Love's Not Void

Chapter 6:

Rolling her eyes, she shifted so that she would lie on her back.

"Have you ever thought of trimming your hair, Rai?"

"What?"

"Have you ever cut your hair?"

"No."

"That explains the coarseness of your hair near the ends."

She only heard him scoff.

Rolling over on her side once again, she found Rai looking at her.

"How can you sleep like that?"

"I don't know. It's just comfortable to me."

...

As silence passed, she began to hum. It was a tune Konoe normally sings, but for some reason it got stuck in her head a while ago.

Suddenly standing, Rai looked down at his hands.

"What are you doing?"

"Hum?" Opening her eyes, she looked at her fuzzy companion. His hands were shaking.

"Rai, what's wrong?" She stood up and walked over to him.

"You were humming."

"Yeah, so?"

"I wasn't like this before you began humming. I can feel the song."

...

Was he implying? Did he...? No, that's ridiculous.

"I'm not a Sanga. I don't even think Hu- ugh- Two Canes can become Sangas."

This was twice today she's almost referred to herself as a Human. It was getting frustrating.

"You have a better explanation?"

"I...well! Um...no."

"Then this settles the feud."

He looked around for a moment or so, and it was then that something hit her like a ton of bricks.

If Rai had a Sanga, wouldn't he be traveling with him? Did this mean Rai was left without a Sanga?

"You don't have a Sanga, do you?"

Rai and Kimberly met eyes.

"No."

She gave a nod and turned to lie back down.

"Try jogging in place until you feel tired. Do something to weary like...pumping iron...so you can get some rest."

Already she was looking after this dude like a mother. This was going to be interesting.

~

Next morning, Kimberly woke alone in the room. She sat up, holding her head.

What the hell happened last night? After she fell asleep, things get hazy. She knows that she had a dream. It was a weird and scary dream actually. She just couldn't remember what it was about.

Sighing, she stood up and went downstairs. Rai was downstairs, standing in front of the kitchen window. He was in his causal position; arms crossed and slightly hunched back. He leaned against the kitchen counter, his eye glued on what could be outside.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking out the window."

"What are you looking at?"

"The outdoors."

"Nuuuh... 'The outdoors,' ba-blah-ba-blah..."

Ever since she's seen Hotel Transylvania, the ba-blah speech has stuck like glue. But she only says it is she's too lazy to come up with a proper insult.