Chapter Text
After spending the night at Kit’s house, Anpan and her friend were having a leisurely breakfast together, the two wrapped in cozy robes with fuzzy slippers on their feet. Kit had made scrambled peki eggs and two thick slabs of toast spread with generous amounts of butter and jam. Breakfast was accompanied by steaming cups of coffee. Anpan ate the eggs and toast with relish; she loved when Kit cooked for her in their large, well-equipped kitchen, and she couldn’t wait to have them over so she could cook for them on her new stove.
“What’s up with you and the broody hunter?” Kit asked her with their mouth full of toast.
“Nothing! He is finally teaching me a bit about hunting, so we’ve been mostly doing that. It’s not like we even talk!” Anpan scowled. “He gets so cranky if I try to talk. Though he has been coming around a little bit…” Kit sat up, clearly interested in more.
“Wait, he actually speaks to you?” they exclaimed. “I don’t think he’s spoken more than two words to me. He generally just grunts when I come to him for bow upgrade recipes and supplies. You two must be getting pretty close. I haven’t seen him out team hunting with anyone else ever.” They gazed at Anpan with a mixture of curiosity and awe.
“I mean…I guess we might actually be…friends?” Anpan puzzled through the thought as she sipped her coffee. She couldn’t point to a single person in the village besides Auni who Hassian considered a friend, and even Auni was more of a younger sibling to him than friend. It was actually rather sweet; Hassian played cards with Auni almost every night at the inn, generally losing to the boy. Other than that, Hassian generally kept his distance from most people, including his mother who he treated with a sort of distant respect. “I’m not sure where that will go, but I am glad that he at least treats me a little bit better than when we first met.”
“That’s a pretty low bar for improvement,” Kit shot back. The two laughed at Kit’s joke, then set to finishing their breakfast and getting ready for the day.
After showering and dressing, Anpan bid her dear friend goodbye and skipped down the path to her own home. As she came around the bend in the road, she stopped at the entrance of her housing plot.
Home.
A small, rough house had replaced her makeshift tent. It was only a single room for now, but it had every comfort she could wish for. Anpan finally had a small kitchen to cook her meals, a living area with a couch, two overstuffed chairs, a small coffee table, and a comfy bed in the corner blocked by a patched fabric screen she had added for some privacy. Anpan suspected the one-room house was bigger than the apartment she had in New York, but she couldn’t quite remember, and it didn’t really matter.
Anpan set her pack down on the single lawn chair in front of her house and went to check on her garden. She nodded with approval as she surveyed her tomato plants; there would be plenty of tomato soup for Najuma. Her onions and potatoes were also doing well, and once they were harvested she would rotate to growing rice, wheat, and corn.
Once the garden was thoroughly weeded and watered, Anpan grabbed up her pack again and went inside to get ready. She was having the Pavels over for tea, and just as she had promised Hodari, she would serve the tea inside of a house rather than beside a campfire. She tossed the pack down on the bed and rummaged within, pulling out bundles of sweet leaf, a few heat root clumps, and a single, precious Dari clove flower. Anpan carefully carried the herbs over to her prep station and began chopping them up, adding them to the tea pot. The Dari clove was extremely hard to find, but she felt like splurging on her friends for this special occasion.
Kit had been the only person to come over since Anpan completed her house the week before. They helped her move her meager belongings into the house from the tent, aided in arranging and rearranging the furniture, then instructed her on how to use the newly installed stove. Anpan smiled; Kit really was the best friend she had in Palia, but she was eager to deepen her friendships with other people in the valley too, like the Pavels.
Anpan was just putting the kettle on to boil when she heard a knock. She dashed to the door, leaping over one of the stools at her kitchen table, and opened the door.
“Anpan!” Najuma slammed into the human and gave her a tight squeeze. Anpan laughed and returned the hug. The girl peered past her into the house. “Wow! Did you build all of this yourself?”
“You bet she did,” Hodari said as he stepped into her home, ducking his head slightly as he entered the door. Anpan smiled warmly at the miner and extended her hand for a handshake. The miner’s hand completely covered hers, almost able to touch his thumb to his other fingers as they wrapped around to grasp hers. She could feel the warmth of his touch radiate up her arm and settle in her chest, and she had to fight the feeling of disappointment when he let go. The kettle began to sing behind her.
“Tea is almost ready! Why don’t you two make yourselves comfortable and have a seat,” she said as she started to move to the stove.
“I brought a snack,” Hodari said, coming with her into the kitchen area. He produced a cloth-wrapped bundle, and he pulled the cloth off to reveal a pie. “It’s blueberry pie, bought it from Reth.” The lattice pie top glistened with egg-washed shine, and dark berries peeked out from between the woven pastry.
Anpan clapped her hands with delight. “I love blueberry pie! It’s one of my favorite treats. How did you know?”
Hodari looked down with a slight expression of embarrassment. “I asked Reth, and he said you told him blueberry was your favorite. Was Najuma’s suggestion to bring something sweet.” Anpan felt her face glow warm; she knew the man didn’t prefer speaking to Reth much, but he had swallowed his discomfort and got her favorite dessert.
“That is really thoughtful, thank you!” Anpan set the tea to steep and cut three slices of the pie. She poured out the tea into three mugs and carried them over to the low table, Hodari following behind with the slices of pie. He and his daughter settled on the couch while Anpan sat across from them on a low stool. Najuma grinned wide and started eating her pie, the adults doing the same. The three sat in companionable silence, enjoying the tartly sweet confection.
Once the pie had been eaten and plates cleared away, Hodari pulled a rectangular box from his pack, opening and unfolding a chezuu board. Anpan had seen the boards at the Urmuu’s Horn and had observed others playing, but she had no idea how to play herself. Najuma and Hodari proceeded to teach Anpan how to play the game, often interrupting each other in the process. Soon, Anpan and Hodari were locked in a chezuu match with Najuma giving Anpan pointers as she went. Hodari won the first round handily, and they set up the board for another try.
After staring at her pieces in silence for a while contemplating her next move, Anpan realized that she hadn’t heard Najuma’s voice in some time. She looked up and saw the girl curled up on the couch next to her father, sound asleep. Anpan quietly gestured to Hodari, and he smiled at Najuma’s sleeping form and turned back to Anpan.
“She’s always stayin’ up too late. S’no wonder she can’t keep her eyes open during the day sometimes.” The miner shook his head. “Her mother was the same way, always workin’ till late into the night on her latest invention.” Hodari smiled sadly at the memory.
“What was her mom like?” Anpan asked cautiously. She knew it was risky to ask something like that, but she truly wanted to know how much of the woman lived on in Najuma.
Hodari bowed his head. “Leta was as bright ‘n fiery as her hair. Najuma has the same color and similar temper, which might help you understand Leta’s personality,” he said with a slight chuckle, bringing his eyes up to meet Anpan’s. “We lost her when Najuma was five. There was an accident, and…she passed through the veil. I miss her every day.” Hodari’s voice had lowered to a husky drawl, trying not to wake Najuma from her nap.
Anpan reached out across the chezuu board and put her hand on Hodari’s where it rested on his knee. She saw the man startle just a little before settling and letting her leave her hand there. “I’m so sorry you and Najuma lost Leta, especially when Najuma was so little.”
Hodari turned his hand over and put his palm against Anpan’s, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “It’s an old hurt at this point, but somehow still feels fresh,” he said. Anpan nodded in agreement. “Najuma told me you lost your mom too, and I’m guessin’ you understand that kind of pain.”
Anpan returned the squeeze and retrieved her hand back so she could take another sip of her tea. “My mom passed away about a year ago…or I guess I should say a year before I appeared here in Palia. She got sick about six months before she died; the cancer…a human sickness… took her pretty quick, but it felt like time was standing still watching her be in so much pain.” Anpan paused and wiped away a tear which had escaped her eye. She hurriedly poured herself and Hodari the remaining tea to give her a moment to compose herself.
“I’m sorry it’s still so new and fresh for you, Anpan,” Hodari said as he picked up the fresh cup of tea, gazing at her with sympathetic eyes.
Anpan took a thoughtful sip. “What was Leta’s favorite color? Mom’s favorite was yellow.”
Hodari looked taken aback, but he quickly recovered and answered, “She also liked bright colors, yellow and orange, same as a sundrop lily.”
“I think my mom would have loved sundrop lilies because of the color. They are really similar to what her favorite flower was, the tiger lily. Sundrop lilies always make me think of her when I see them.”
He smiled. “Sundrop lilies make me think of my Leta too. What was your mom’s favorite food? Leta’s was hot hounds.”
“I don’t know what those are, but must be good if they were her favorite! Mom’s was chocolate cake. Favorite sport? Mom’s was soccer.”
Their conversation continued like this for a while, becoming more jovial as they went.
“Favorite season?” “Favorite sweater?” “Favorite song?”
As Hodari opened his mouth to answer the last question, a small voice began to sing.
Wind in your sails to bring you home
Sailing the ship on the sea
I’d be the wind to bring you back
As long as you come home to me
The final note of Najuma’s song hung in the air, Hodari and Anpan sitting in stunned silence. “I don’t remember if that was Mom’s favorite song, but she sang it to me all the time,” Najuma said quietly.
“I remember that,” Hodari spoke slowly and quietly. He put his arm around his daughter and gave her a squeeze. “She sang much better than I can, that’s for sure.”
“Oh yeah Dad, when you sing it sounds like a wounded sernuk,” Najuma said with a giggle. The two shared a laugh together at what seemed like an old inside joke, and Anpan smiled at the sight. She knew the pair were having their ups and downs as Najuma got older, but deep down they cared for each other deeply no matter what they were fighting about in the moment. Anpan felt the twinge of sadness as she wished again that she could talk to her mom. The moment passed, and she smiled brightly at the father and daughter.
Hodari stood up stiffly, Najuma pretending to give him a shove as he stood. “Well ‘Juma, I think it’s time we headed home and gave Anpan her house back.”
Najuma groaned. “Awww man, I had really hoped we could stay longer!”
“It’s ok, Najuma, we can have tea again next week if you want! As long as it’s ok with your dad to come out here to see me.” The two looked at Hodari expectantly, and he nodded.
“Sure, fine by me. As long as Najuma is home ‘fore dark.” Najuma made a face at this, but she quickly smoothed it away, trying to look as responsible and mature as possible. Her face broke out in a crooked grin.
Anpan walked them to the door. “Thanks so much for visiting! It was nice to finally have guests I could host in my new home.” Najuma gave Anpan a big hug and bounded toward the path. Hodari turned to go, then paused and turned back to face Anpan..
“Thanks for the tea, and…thanks for bein’ such a good friend to my girl.” Hodari slowly and shyly stepped forward, arms out awkwardly. Anpan stepped forward into his offered arms, soon finding herself wrapped in his embrace. She wound her arms around him in return and put her head on his shoulder. Anpan didn’t know how long they stood there; it could have been an instant or it might have been hours. The two broke away, Hodari bashfully putting his hands behind his back before nodding to her and turning away.
Anpan watched him walk past her mailbox and out to the path where Najuma was waiting. The father and daughter turned and waved at her, and she enthusiastically returned the wave, calling out farewells. The pair turned and walked around the bend, out of Anpan’s view.
She went back inside and started tidying up, washing the pie plates and tea cups. Hodari had gifted her the chezuu board (“housewarmin’ gift”) which was still on her coffee table, and she gathered up all the pieces and refolded the board. After all the housekeeping tasks were done, she sprawled on the bed to rest for a moment before starting on dinner. Anpan reflected on the tea party with the Pavels; Hodari was really opening up to her, and Najuma had also been confiding in her, but she wished the two would talk to each other as openly as they spoke to her.
Hodari also seemed to be more comfortable with physical contact from her too. She blushed at the memory of being in his arms. Oh no you don’t, missy! Anpan had no desire to get entangled in romantic relationships in this new life, though she did feel herself being drawn to the miner. It’s just a silly little crush, some physical attraction, and nothing more. He is clearly still in love with his wife and wouldn’t want more than friendship either. She shook her head as if to clear it of any thoughts in that direction. The lovers she had in her previous life had broken her heart and eventually her spirit, were partially responsible for that life ending, and Anpan swore it would be a cold day in hell before she’d let anyone hurt her like that again.
