Chapter Text
Hei’s arms hurt. They shouldn’t, because their only cargo is Mao in his carrier, which was heavier than expected but Hei had found it resold at a dream of reduced price. All he had to do the night before he and Bai would leave for their trip to Okinawa was fix up the cage’s latch and tape some spare styrofoam over the small plastic hole on the corner of the carrier. Mao had been watching his hard work the entire time. Once Hei finished off with a soft towel on the bottom of the carrier, the cat took a tentative step inside, comfortably sat himself on the towel, and meowed at him. It seemed Hei had passed the test.
On the morning of their leave, Bai boards the train several minutes earlier than Hei does, with an elation no one in the station could match. They had been in line for a street food stand, because Hei was determined to get them both something to eat on the way to the next stop.
“Why are we still here?” Next to him, she’d whined like anything. “The train is about to leave!”
Hei meanwhile is counting up all the cash he has in his wallet, because god forbid he loses any of it, further shrinks the trip’s budget in his mind, and sees Bai pout even more. “No it’s not. We have twenty minutes until even the boarding starts.”
“Walking back to the train takes ten!”
Hei huffs, “And then what? Sitting down takes fifteen? Really, Bai, trains won’t leave when boarding just begins. I’m pretty sure they programmed the system to prevent that from happening.”
“Oh, so you think you know everything about how trains work because you studied physics, out of all things, in university?” Bai grumbles and he rolls his eyes.
“So restless,” he grunts, glancing down at her. “Go wait on the train. I’ll get the food.” He hands her ticket and resumes facing forward now switching the carrier over to his other arm. He doesn’t need to look back at her to know the way she’s grinning right now. Her footsteps pitter-patter back to the train and he listens to them until they blend in with the never ending cacophony of shoes on floors.
The line continues moving at a decent pace. Soon enough, he’s embarking the train with food safely held by his hands clad in napkins. He settles next to Bai just as the train begins moving.
It’s over a day of travel by train then ferry, but when they arrive in the late afternoon, almost falling asleep on their feet, November is waiting for them at the terminal. He must have caught sight of them first because when Hei spotted him, he was already looking right in their direction.
“Finally, my friend!” November spreads his arms then claps his hands together like those spokespeople do. “You couldn’t have come any later.”
“You have friends , brother?”
“No.” Hei drones keeping his eyes on November, who smirks at Bai’s genuine surprise. “Just someone I know.”
November stage whispers to her, “We’re friends. He just doesn’t know what the word means.” As Bai snorts, he turns his attention to the carrier in tow, just like Hei had expected. He boldly brings his hand to the cage door. “And who’s this little—?” Mao leaps up to the door and hisses with a snap of his teeth to the thin wires in front of him.
By then November has whipped his hand back into his pocket, and not very smoothly. “God, I hate cats,” he mutters.
Hei coughs. It doesn’t really hide his single beat of quiet laughter. “You held your hand out first.”
“He’s nice once you get to know him,” Bai tries to offer with a sheepish smile.
“Ah, forget about it.” November walks them out the terminal, all jovial now. “What you two need to get to know is where you’ll be staying.”
He loads them in his car with a few mutters of “come on then, in you go.” While Bai comfortably has the backseat all to herself, Hei ends up in the passenger seat next to him with the carrier in his lap. November swings into the driver’s seat and is about to start the car when he just notices the carrier and freezes. “You’re putting that brat in the backseat now.”
“He’s not a brat,” Hei scoffs but complies.
The hotel they arrive at in minutes is quaint, unassuming. Two small floors stand quietly in front of them, just barely blocking a close view of the ocean stretching beyond their sights. Only the salty breeze speaks to them. Once they enter the lobby, November checks them in, presses the key in Hei’s hands, and shoos the siblings off to their room before he speaks a little longer with the receptionist.
“Brother, do you smell that?” Bai asks excitedly the moment they step into their room. The ocean is indeed the first of what Hei notices too; the glass door to the balcony is wide open, letting the wind carry in the scent.
“This is… nice.” Maybe a little nicer than their flat, for one. There are two beds separated by a nightstand and a lamp. By the smallest wall of the room is a simple desk supplied with pens and the telephone for service.
He sets the carrier down and opens its latch. Mao pads out curiously and begins exploring. Hei checks the bathroom, where he’s pleasantly surprised to find soaps, shampoo, lotion, and towels already there, ready for use. He tries shutting the faucet that never seems to be fully off, given the slow drip of water beating the sink. The dripping continues despite his efforts.
Regardless, Bai was somehow right in that he had overpacked.
He goes back to the desk, walking past Bai holding Mao in her arms as she gazes at the ocean, and requests a small dinner from room service. Once the order is promised to come soon, he calls Mao over to let him drink water from the faucet before the cat can take desperate measures for his thirst.
There comes a knock on the door then. It’s almost too early for room service to have prepared and delivered dinner. Perhaps they’re quick workers? Opening the door he finds—
“Miss Yin?” Hei asks blankly. He barely hears Bai’s gasp and footsteps from the balcony.
“This is the room of Hei and Bai, right?” Her voice breaks him out of his stupor.
“Yes. Do you and November need—“
“He said you have a cat.”
Hei blinks and opens his mouth but Bai answers for him promptly, pushing forward past Hei to be face to face with her hero. “Yes we do, miss! His name is Mao because… he meows a lot. And we, uh, didn’t know what else to name him.” She ends with an awkward clear of her throat.
Yin smiles very slightly. Hei would’ve missed it if he’d caught himself staring and stopped already. “Mao. May I see him?”
Bai squeals quietly and claps before leading Yin inside, pushing past Hei again. He catches himself on the wall as his gaze follows the woman.
He realizes his lips remain apart from failing to hold a basic conversation with a famed pianist. He forced his mouth closed. While Bai chatters about how they took in Mao and Yin delicately holds the purring little thing, all Hei can do is stare and wonder how he ended up here this evening with an undeniable tug in his chest.