| [Mar. 5th, 2018|04:17 am] |
Many stories, it turned out. Himself was as excitable and distractible as Kaori and Hideki had been — or at least he pretended to be. The moon rose higher and the stars wheeled slowly overhead while he glided and danced from tale to tale. When the heat started to get to Genma, and he got out to sit on the side of the pool for a moment, Himself suggested they all cool off with some melon, while he regaled the shinobi with an elaborate account of a prank the tanuki had played on an unscrupulous blacksmith.
It was by far the sweetest, most succulent and refreshing melon Genma had ever had. Kurenai kept pouring, and they kept drinking, without ever feeling drunk. The convivial, open-to-joy effect of the libation seemed to stretch out with each fresh cup.
A breeze rustled through the leaves, sending a rill of shivers along Genma’s shoulders. He took a last bite of melon, set the empty rind aside, and slid back into the steaming pool.
“An excellent idea,” Himself declared. He waved as the other two joined Genma in the water. “You three should stay here as long as you like. When you’re ready to sleep, just follow the path back to the firepit, and one of my kin will take you to your beds.”
“You’re not staying?” Genma asked.
“I’ve bathed enough,” Himself said. “I believe I have ‘goodwill tokens’ I need to arrange.” He shook a few remaining droplets from his shaggy beard, then somersaulted himself back into the huge, fur-covered form they’d first met. He gave Kurenai a sly, approving look. “Harubi-san and her kits will have everything they need for their journey back to your world tomorrow.”
Raidou grinned, pleased with the world. “Goodnight, Greatest-Grandfather.”
“We’re grateful for your generous hospitality,” Kurenai said. “And—” she raised her nearly empty sake cup and drained the last few drops with a connoisseur’s true appreciation, “—your truly excellent sake.”
They bowed farewells.
And then they were alone — just the three of them, in the mist and heat and moonlight, with paper lanterns casting golden highlights on bare skin.
Kurenai’s unruly hair, curling in the steam, did its best to escape from Genma’s elastic. One graceful tendril hung down in front of her ear, drawing Genma’s eye down to the waterline. Steam and darkness cradled her pale skin.
Next to her, Raidou’s broad shoulders were a sculpted bulwark. He ducked in to his chin, then sat back up, spilling water down his chest in little rivulets through slicked-flat body hair. They were both close enough to touch.
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