Page 44 of Fumiko and the Finicky Nestmate
The question was put delicately enough, but Juuyu grasped his meaning. “I have no attachments of a romantic nature.”
“Ever?”
Juuyu warbled a frustrated cadence. “I simply do not wish to cause you pain by reminding you that she is no longer here.”
Colt’s brows drew together, then rose. “This isn’t about Fira. This is about Suuzu and Akira, isn’t it?”
Perhaps it was. Again, Juuyu murmured, “I apologize.”
With a gentle nicker, his teammate said, “It’s not easy, being brave. But it’s even harder to be brave for someone else. Never really works out.”
He hated to think of Suuzu’s sorrow. Yet he’d added to it. “I have taken Akira from him even sooner.”
“The decision was made before you became involved. And the choice was ultimately Akira’s.”
Juuyu found no comfort in excuses. “If anything happens to him, I will blame myself.”
Colt pulled him into a loose embrace. “Trust me more, Juuyu. Give me a chance to tell you about all the good that came from having a human bondmate.”
“I would be honored to hear your stories.”
“Not a single one’s a tragedy,” he promised. “Now, do two things for me.”
Juuyu searched Colt’s smiling face before saying, “I will if I am able.”
“You’ve been brave before, Juuyu. You can be brave again. Don’t forget that.”
If he’d had feathers to ruffle, he would have. Instead, he borrowed from Sinder and rolled his eyes.
Colt nickered again and took him by the shoulders. “Go back for today. Healer’s orders. Hold onto your boy and send me mine.”
SIXTEEN
Goodnight Moon
Fumiko had few escapes, but climbing was a tried and true one. Her fingers and feet knew every path through Zuzu’s heights, where they’d created hideaways. Nests of woven branches padded by faded blankets or folded towels. Platforms created by surfboards and driftwood that had washed ashore. A plank swing that was wide enough for two to share.
The things Akira had said were bothering her.
Fumiko didn’t know the answer to his question.
Did Zuzu?
She could have called her sister to her side, but there were so many things to say, and up among the leaves was the safest place to say them.
“Where are you?” Fumiko murmured.
“Here.”
Arms twined around her from behind, and in an instant, she was safe in the highest niche. A nest for two that swayed just out of sight from passing birds. Fumiko huddled against Zuzu’s side and asked, “Did you hear?”
“Maybe. So much has been happening at once.”
Fumiko remembered then, that Zuzu would vanish when their home became crowded. Not because she was shy or trying to hide from their guests, but because it was easier to catch everything when she wasn’t looking through a pair of eyes. Zuzu absorbed it all, from the passing of a migrating vert nippet to a stolen kiss between the bookcases in the library, simply by being there.
“Sister?” Zuzu stroked Fumiko’s hair and asked, “Do you think we’ll have a visitor this evening?”
“What kind?” It was one of their little games, born of hope and fond memories. “Since there’s no fog bank, maybe we’ll catch the last sunbeam?”
