Beyond the Horizon

18. Kindness

Kinako Yoshida's home was only a fifteen-minute walk from the convenience store. Kinako talked as they went, sharing mundane things about the town: here's the laundromat, and here's where the best milkshakes are, Farmer's Market goes up on that road in the spring and runs all the way through Cherry Lane. Occasionally, she inquired about Nezumi and Shion's time in town. Nezumi usually answered these questions in as vague terms as he could, but the older woman didn't seem to mind his reticence.

          Nezumi and Shion's hands were still clasped together; Nezumi wanted to believe that it was to lend Shion support, but the truth might have been the other way around. Shion didn't look scared or worried about the prospect of staying with strangers, only cautious. Only the slightest bit hopeful. Which was Shion's default when it came to offered kindnesses. He took them at face value, while Nezumi always looked at them askance.

          Kinako quieted into companionable silence as they exited the town proper and stepped out onto a dirt road crowded by spindly trees. Nezumi tightened his hold on Shion's hand.

          "This walk must be beautiful when the trees flower," Shion said, loud enough that Kinako could hear. "These are plum trees, aren't they?"

          Kinako turned, her eyes bright with pleasure. "They are! Every January the whole road is lined with whites and pinks. It's the loveliest thing." She nodded at the naked branches before aiming another smile at Shion. "You know your trees well."

          He ducked his head shyly. "My mom likes gardening."

          Kinako's fond expression stayed in place, but she tilted her head. Nezumi didn't need to read her mind to know what she was thinking: Why was Shion wandering around homeless if he had a mother? He had a few explanations queued up in case she asked, but Kinako was apparently too well-mannered. She waved them forward with a cheery, "The house is just around this corner!"

          "You OK?" Shion whispered.

          Nezumi looked over at Shion, but the concern he saw in Shion's eyes had him immediately turning his face forward again. "Fine."

          "Are you sure? We don't have to stay. We can go back to the warehouse."

          "We already agreed to stay. The woman is safe. She... She thinks you look like her dead son."

          Nezumi glanced at Shion's reaction out of the corner of his eye. He looked surprised, then regretful, then he looked at Kinako's back. She was humming softly under her breath, a happy, springtime tune.

          They rounded the corner and the house came into view. The exterior was painted a light orange color, like the sunset, and accents around the door and windows were in a dark, warm brown. The second storey facing the road looked like it had two or three rooms to it, which had balconies with small, rectangular railings. The home was quiet, quaint, and utterly charming.

          The inside complemented the outside: cream painted walls and light wooden accents in the low coffee table and rocking chairs in the living room. A plush, dark blue loveseat sat against the back wall opposite an older model television. Plants crowded the corners of the room, and one particularly energetic rubber tree plant was bent to peek over the edge of the window sill.

          "Sou?" Kinako called as they entered, and a man's voice called back in greeting. "Come here, we've got guests."

          An elderly man came out of the kitchen at the same moment Nezumi and Shion filed into the living room. He was tall, lean, and tanned. His dark eyes were obscured a bit by the smeared lenses of his glasses, but he looked friendly, and he caught his wife in a half hug when she drifted to him.