--- KUBATO ---
Kubato slowly woke from her sleep.
It was still dark. Muffled voices drifted up from the ground floor—from the dining room—reaching her ears in the guest bedroom. It sounded like Marcel. He was scolding Konrad.
The wolf girl noticed that she was wearing a new set of pajamas. They felt warm and comfortable against her skin. She stared out into the dark sky beyond the window. The events of the previous night still clung to her thoughts, refusing to let her rest.
A sudden knock at the window interrupted her memories.
She looked toward the windowsill and saw a dark figure clinging to it—pale skin, barely visible in the shadows. For a moment, fear shot through her. But as soon as she felt that familiar presence, she hurried to open the window.
"Akumu," she whispered happily as his grotesque form slipped into her room.
"That's me," he replied melodiously, sitting down on the edge of her bed. His dark eyes met hers, and his amused smile filled her with an unfamiliar sense of calm. "How are you feeling?"
Kubato didn't know how to respond. She was so relieved that he was here. Yet at the same time, something tightened in her chest, pulling tears to her eyes. Without another word, she threw herself into his arms and began to cry.
"Wow, you've got quite the tear reservoir," Akumu laughed softly, stroking her hair. "It's fine. Go ahead."
The little wolf girl remained in his arms for several minutes. Her tears slowly subsided, but he stayed silent, simply holding her.
Faint voices could still be heard through the door—voices Akumu now noticed as well.
"Your old man is really grilling his son," he commented lightly.
Kubato pulled back and looked straight into his eyes.
"You smell like Grandpa."
Akumu sniffed under his arms and grimaced dramatically.
"Yikes! That bad?"
"No," Kubato smiled faintly. Only then did she realize how stiff her face felt—how hard it was to smile. "You smell… like him. Familiar. Kind. Loving."
Akumu smiled.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"Did you know my Grandpa?" Kubato asked, sitting beside him with her legs tucked beneath her.
"Well," Akumu began, gazing around the room as if the memory were floating somewhere in the air, "he was the first person who discovered that I existed. To be precise, I was sealed away back then. As Death, I sense every soul that dies. Many people have tried to bargain with Death—but no one ever spoke to me directly. Except him."
Kubato leaned closer to him. Only now did she realize it.
She had only ever leaned on Grandpa like this before.
"What did he say?" she asked quietly.
"'Protect Kubato,'" Akumu replied.
The words shattered something that had been lodged deep inside her heart. The dam broke, and she began to cry again. She missed her Grandpa so terribly—and yet, at the same time, she was grateful beyond words to know that he had entrusted Akumu with her safety.
She buried herself in his cold arms and let her tears flow freely.
"My goodness," Akumu commented playfully. "You've got more water in you than one would expect."
Kubato sniffed and finally looked up at him.
Her tears were mostly spent.
"I miss Grandpa so much," she said softly. "But I'm glad he sent you."
Her words were interrupted by fresh tears.
Amused, Akumu wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer.
"You're adorable, little one. A growing bud that will bloom beautifully in the years to come."
Kubato froze.
"I'm fourteen! I'll be an adult in four years!"
The dark man smiled.
"In your mind, yes. But physically? You mature much later."
"Grandpa said beastkin just take a little longer," Kubato insisted. "But I'll still be grown up soon!"
"Yes," Akumu agreed. "You will grow up."
Soft footsteps approached from the other side of the door. Stairs creaked faintly.
"What a shame," Akumu said with a smile. "I would've liked to spend more time with you. But it seems I should be going now."
Kubato's expression fell, though she was still happy that he had come to see her.
There was a knock. The door opened—and the light was switched on without warning.
Where darkness had been, Akumu sat before her, smiling.
And when the light filled the room, he vanished along with the shadows.
Marcel and Konrad entered.
"Kubato," Marcel said seriously. "Konrad has something he wants to say to you."
He stepped aside, giving the boy room.
Konrad couldn't bring himself to look her in the eyes. Shame and guilt were written all over his face.
Kubato didn't look at him either. Her gaze lingered on the spot where Akumu had been only moments ago.
"Kubato," Konrad stammered, forcing himself to face her. "I'm sorry for what I did. I promise… I—" He hesitated. "I will protect you."
Slowly, she glanced at him, caught his eyes for just a second—then looked away again.
He means it… but… it still hurts.
"Kubato," Marcel spoke gently. "I gave him a very clear lecture. It won't happen again."
He stared hard at Konrad.
"I hope you've learned your lesson."
"Yes," Konrad replied quietly, eyes fixed on the floor.
"Now go to bed," Marcel said, sending him to his room.
"Kubato," her stepfather said softly after Konrad left. "I'm sorry too."
He stepped closer and hugged her tightly. It felt warm and safe. She liked it—and hugged him back.
"Sleep well," he said, kissing her forehead before leaving the room and turning off the light.
Akumu did not return for the rest of the night.
Yet it felt as if the shadows and darkness were still saturated with his presence.
Reassured, Kubato lay down again.
And soon, she fell peacefully asleep.