Nobody's Home

Disclaimer: If GA was mine… Well… Well it doesn't matter. Because it's not. So yeah.

Author's Note: Hi. I suck. I know. Anyway, changed the plot... Again. Sorry. I promise this is the last time. If anyone wants to see the old version, PM me.

o1 – Peanut Brittle.

Thump, thump, thump.

"Open the window, Mire, will you?" Kitsuneme's voice is gruff as he raps impatiently on my window. "I've got something to show you."

"Non," I decline, wrapping my blankets tighter around my skinny shoulders. "I'm sleepy, Kit." But not just that – I don't want the rain to get inside. He'll be all wet and muddy, and he knows I hate it when he doesn't use the front door, even though it's half off its hinges.

Thump, thump, thump.

He's still knocking, even though we can see each other through the filthy glass. "Yeah," he says. "I know. Just for today, Mire, please." I can't help but want to when I see how Kitsu's sandy hair plasters itself onto his head and how the rain slides off his dirty cheeks, revealing the alabaster skin underneath.

Thump, thump, thump.

I scowl at him. "Stop it, will you?" Kitsu grins at me, revealing strangely pearly white teeth.

"Let me in, Mire," he coaxes. "I'll follow your rules about the door tomorrow. This'll make it up to you, you'll see."

"Fine, I'll open the damn window, but it better be worth it," I warn. He shakes his head, still smiling.

"It will be." I stand up and flip open the latch at the bottom, grunting as I push the window up as far as it's willing to go. Kitsu immediately slips inside it and I slam the window fast, closing the latch.

I eye his wet figure warily. "Take a shower, Kit," I say, rolling my eyes. He shakes his head and tosses me a brown paper bag that is, surprisingly, mostly dry.

"Fine," he agrees. "But open the bag first." He looks strangely excited but changes his expression to one of nonchalance when I look at him suspiciously.

I sit down on the bed. It squeaks as I do, making a horrible sound very similar to a cat raking its claws against a blackboard. I ignore it. I've gotten used to it, so I don't mind it as much as I used to.

"Hurry up," Kitsu groans. I smile at his impatience and open the bag, peering into it. My eyes widen in disbelief.

"Holy shit," I say.

Am I seeing what I think I'm seeing?

I look up. Kitsu smiles encouragingly and I spill the contents onto the bed. I freeze.

There, in front of my eyes, are a dozen pieces of peanut brittle, about three inches wide and four inches long each. I stare at the pieces in wonder.

"How the hell did you get these?" I ask, getting up and throwing my arms around him. He laughs and hugs me back. The front of my clothes dampen a little bit, due to Kitsu being in the rain.

Kitsu shrugs. "Traded the fish for it," he tells me, all smiles. "The vendor knew, ah, someone with a sweet tooth who highly valued fresh fish. And I knew you hadn't had that stuff in a really long time, so I figured just this once you'd settle for the loaf and some brittle." I pull back.

"Aw," I say cheekily, putting my hand over my heart. "That's very sweet of you, Kit." He rolls his eyes but his smile doesn't fade. He knows it's one of the ways I say thank you.

"Anything for a friend, Mire," he says, shrugging again. He looks down at himself. "I'll take a shower now. I wouldn't want you giving me one of your glares again." He gives me a two fingered salute and bounds over to the next makeshift room.

I place the all the pieces of peanut brittle back into the bag except for one, flopping back down onto the bed. I shut my eyes and nibble on the brittle until it's gone, resisting the urge to lick my fingers.

Today was a good day.

I wait for the sound of water splashing to cease. When it does, I clip the bag tight and put it in the drawer inside my rusted nightstand. I move over on the bed and give room for Kitsu to sleep. Beggars can't be choosers, but anyway, I like sleeping beside Kit. It lets me know that someone's still there.

He walks inside the room and dries his wild hair onto a cotton rag made from one of his old t-shirts. He's wearing a faded pair of striped blue pajama pants and a worn-out green Ninja Turtles t-shirt from the good old days. I smile a little reminiscently, remembering them and remembering who had given Kitsu the shirt.

I miss you, Koko.

A sigh escapes my lips and I thank God that Kit doesn't hear it, otherwise he'd ask what was wrong. And I can't do that to him. Kitsu lies down beside me and I throw our thin blankets over us.

"Night, Kit," I whisper.

"Night, Mire," he replies.

Then, for old times' sake, he leans over and plants a kiss on my forehead like a brother. Just as I'm about to fall asleep, I hear him whisper, "Night, Koko."

It keeps me awake for little longer, but I feel my eyes drooping when I hear Kit's soft snores.

"Night, Koko."

I can imagine Koko replying, saying Night, Sumi. The thought comforts me the slightest bit and I fall asleep.