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It’s dark outside. By now she should be asleep. She has to wake up early; Uncles Ho, Jang-Toong, and Woo-Wah were all going out tomorrow. The restaurant is her responsibility for the next day. She would have gone to sleep earlier if it weren’t for the fact that the restaurant was even more crowded than usual, and if she didn’t have seventy strokes left before she could sleep. A soft smile circles her lips upward while her brush splattered water droplets over the cotton of her pajamas. If it weren’t for the thick blankets that adorned her bed, she would have frozen over years ago. The epitaph would read, “Pucca: Survivor of Ninja Attacks, Savior of Lives, Killed by Bad Weather.”
When she thinks about dying, that’s not how she wants to go. Of course she has thought about it. Since age twelve she’s been surrounded by ninjas — her parents, her uncles, her friends were all ninjas, constantly risking their lives for some good reasons, and some pretty stupid ones, too — so of course she’s thought about it. Maybe she’ll go fighting alongside Garu. Or, more likely, she’ll go kicking and screaming against Tobe’s badly planned attacks. To be entirely fair, they have gotten better over the years. They now rely more heavily on the element of surprise and on his own level of battle skill, rather than curses and the weather. The Cursed Bow-Tie was a pretty dumb way to go; Pucca had a way of making the impossible happen by simply wanting it badly enough, even as a child. That bird didn’t go extinct because it has bad breath like it already ate an entire extinct species of bird. Those things are probably striving in the darkest, smelliest corner of the world. Maybe she’ll get killed by one of those birds’ rank breath.
She thinks of the face she made when the stupid bird breathed on her. Green, ill, and losing hope for all life. It makes her giggle. The sound stops at a knock on her window. Pucca expects Ching to be there, smiling and waiting with an explanation about how she doesn’t want to wake up the uncles with her loud knocking at the downstairs restaurant. Still she’s careful about unlocking it, not wanting a fight with…anything that accidentally came flying through the window. Despite all her fighting skills, despite the Vow of Silence she took, she isn’t a ninja; she doesn’t want to spend twenty-five out of twenty-four hours of the day meditating, or fighting. It isn’t Ching at the window; it isn’t even Abyo, running away from who knows what problems he caused.
It’s Garu, with a black eye and a swollen lip.
The window opens before Pucca realizes she’s the one opening it. She doesn’t even have to ask what’s going on. It doesn’t matter; she’s kicking the ass of whoever did it. Garu jumps in. One of his pigtails has come undone, the hair held together by the black hood. It must have come off when he was running. Garu isn’t one to run away, ever. He’s got his honor and his righteousness and his stubborn, stubborn personality. Whatever happened, either it was bad or he’s just too tired to fight it.
Pucca’s eyes narrow. She hadn’t wanted a fight, but if Garu’s hurt — forget the restaurant, it’ll be fine if it’s opened a few hours later tomorrow.
Garu shakes his head before she can jump out. The black eye is growing worse, even in the few seconds it took him to come in. He shuts the curtain closed a moment after Pucca’s noticed his eye throbbing. A yawn escapes his mouth. She understands; he really is tired. Her head tilts, dark hair slumping onto the cotton shirt. The unspoken question hangs in the air: Toby? Garu nods, reaching to rub his swollen eye before realizing that it is, indeed, swollen. His fingers drop away from the inflamed flesh, dark eyes staring at Pucca.
Before he can blink, the slim girl’s away and back, a pack of ice in her hands. He’s seen that anger in her eyes many times before; when aimed at him, it sends shivers down his spine. Now it’s mixed with worry. The ninja takes the bag, pressing it to his eye. Maybe if he takes care of himself, she’ll calm down a bit. Maybe he should have gone to Abyo’s house. Pucca is terrifying when she’s mad, whether or not the anger is aimed at him. Abyo isn’t so much terrifying as he is overenthusiastic. He wouldn’t wait; he’d just rip his shirt off and get himself killed. His only option other than Abyo and Pucca was Ching, and Ching would worriedly cluck her chicken into an early coma. Pucca cares enough not to dig herself an early grave, and enough not to worry any surrounding animals into the ground.
He sighs, walking over to the bed. It’s nearly impossible not to feel Pucca’s eyes following him around the room, waiting for an explanation. They both stare at each other. Ice presses a little harder into his eye. Toby ambushed him in his house; if it hadn’t been for Mio’s hellish meowing, Toby would have gotten vengeance for whatever wrong Garu had done. Lately he’s been getting more and more violent. It’s scary. Not that Garu can’t deal with a little scary, but it’s getting old and he can’t remember the last time he’s actually had a full night’s sleep. Another yawn escapes him.
This time Pucca nods; she understands. Maybe it’s because they took the Vow of Silence at the same time, but she can understand the subtle changes in his expressions, the shift in his eyes. As annoying as she is, it comes into use more often than not. He’s glad for it. Charades is a difficult game to play at eleven o’clock at night when he’s about ready to pass out. The ninja watches as Pucca rummages around in her closet for extra pillows. He has to wonder why she needs them — her bed is sixty percent pillow and forty percent mattress. He can lean back and find his head on seven different pillows right now. Garu doesn’t complain; he can’t, verbally, and doesn’t care to physically. She’s just busying herself so she won’t hunt Tobe down and show him what for. He understands.
More pillows are rested on the bed, an extra blanket set down. Garu watches as she fluffs them with a little more violence than needed. Pucca climes on the bed, throws her long hair over her shoulder, and sets to work on his. She doesn’t ask if it’s okay to touch him, thought Garu would have appreciated it. She’s become resigned to the whole “unrequited love” part of their relationship, but it seems she’ll take affection where she can get it.
Her fingers are soft, combing through the undone pigtail, as if she knows the scalp there is tender. Once the largest knot is undone, Pucca undoes the other pigtail and pulls the hood of his suit off head. Dark hair tumbles out. He keeps it just long enough for the pigtails he loves, but not much longer. The girl threads her fingers through the rest. It’s collecting the grease of a day gone without washing, but it’s still soft. She picks up the brush, gently brushing his hair out one hundred times, all in silence. Garu sits with a scowl on his face, but he doesn’t complain.
Pucca puts the brush down on her dresser when she’s done, running her fingers through the dark hair before curling her arms around his waist. They’re both tense. Pucca for whoever hurt Garu; Garu because of Pucca’s closeness. Pucca buries her face into his back, relishing the warmth. A lot of the time, she’s scared. Not for herself, she can protect herself. She’s afraid for her friends, for Garu. Her parents died doing ninja work; it’s why her uncles retired to take care of her. She can’t even remember their faces. Garu, Abyo, Ching, and so many other of her friends were ninja. She can’t protect them all the time, no matter how much she tries.
The swift sound of movement crosses her window. Her arms tense around Garu, ready for a fight; they relax again when she feels that he winces. Does he have bruises on his chest? Pucca frowns, but her eyes stay on the window. One — two — three — four — five shadows cross it. If Garu hadn’t made it very clear that he wants to sleep, she would go out and make Tobe and his henchmen regret everything they’ve ever done. Garu knows this, knows her, and reaches to place a hand on her forearm.
Pucca, no.
A small harrumph leaves the girl, but she relaxes against him, leading Garu to do that same. A third yawn splits his lips. Pucca leans back onto the unneeded thousands of pillows, dragging a blanket around her. Garu slumps against her, muscles too tired to hold himself. Tobe’s going to get killed, Pucca decides, but tomorrow. Tonight, Garu is sore and falling asleep in her arms. Tomorrow, after closing time, Tobe is dead.