favor
Sana does not visit her domain often.
Fauna doesn’t mind. Time passes differently for her than it does for everyone else. It’s nothing to her, because Space speaks endlessly about the things she’s done and the things she’s seen, all with a starry look in her eyes over a hot cup of tea. And when it’s all said and done on her side, she’ll ask Fauna all about what she did, fretting and worrying like no one else in the world ever would. Every visit is a twelve hour conversation.
It’s different, today.
There’s a starry presence. The weight on the grass is a weight in the back of her mind, every detail sealed into the palm of her hand. She’s always tiptoed like that, as if everything below her feet would shatter with too much pressure.
“You don’t need to tiptoe, Sana,” Fauna says, amused. She folds the corner of her book’s page, glancing steadily at her doorway. “You know the grass isn’t so fragile.”
“I know!” Sana chirps. Fauna giggles when she appears at the doorway, smiling sheepishly. “I just—! Maybe I’m feeling a little out of it, but there’s a part of me that feels a little, mm… unintentionally destructive.”
Fauna tilts her head. The stars in Sana’s eyes don’t seem as bright, she thinks. Delicately, she brushes her hair out of her eyes. “What do you mean? Are you alright, Sana?”
“I’m alright! You don’t need to worry that much about it, Faufau.” Sana titters, a half-smile pulling at her lips. “I have a bit of a favor to ask.”
“If you’re worried that I’m going to say no—”
“No, no—!” She leans against the doorway, “No, I know you would do anything at the drop of a hat for me, Faufau. That’s what makes you so sweet! But… I also think that this is a bit of an undertaking, and I feel like it’s a little deceptive for me to ask this of you when you might as readily say yes as you would regret it afterwards, so I’m— simply a little frazzled on how to approach this.”
Sana giggles apologetically. Fauna echoes it, smiling gently. “Oh, Sana… You don’t need to worry about that. I know my limits.”
“I’m covering my bases,” Sana says quietly. “I just want to make sure you don’t jump headfirst into something that might cause you discomfort.”
“Well,” Nature begins, sliding her book onto the table as she leans against the palm of her hand, “perhaps you should tell it to me first? So that the matter is off your mind?”
“Of course.” Space clears her throat theatrically, leaning against the doorway, Fauna’s amusement growing warm in her chest. “I want you to give one of my old friends some company, since I’m gonna be away from her for a little bit. I’ve seen how much she needs it, so I thought about asking around! Mumei said yes, and Bae said she would if she found time…”
“...Does it require being around humans often?” Fauna asks, thoughtfully. She searches the stars peacefully. “Is that why you’re so tentative?”
Sana gives her a feeble smile. “You don’t have to say yes. She’s sort of a human herself, still. They’re not around at night, but…”
“Then I’ll come at night,” Fauna says carefully. It’s a distant sensation, the thorns growing on her vines. She smiles but it feels superficial, like the barbs in her chest are visible in her teeth. “I might come in the morning, if there aren’t many around. It’s alright.”
She giggles at the way Sana’s eyes lighten up, a little more genuine. “Really?”
“Mumei said yes, didn’t she?” Nature breathes the wisp of a delicate titter. “She’ll protect me, just as I will her.”
“Oh, Faufau, you’re a lifesaver!”
And that’s the worth of it, Fauna thinks as Sana jumps into her, chirping profuse gratitude — the stars perking, the way they twinkle, the excitement all back in her voice. She’ll bear the barbs if it’ll keep the sun in Sana’s heart shining brighter than gold in the dark.