Ivy looked up from the wash basin at the crooked cross near the tree line in the distance. She had seen it before, even ventured close enough once where she could almost make out the etchings in the wood that spelled out a name she didn’t know before being called back to the cottage. She wondered who was buried there, and why Sakura refused to tell her. Why she had asked her to stay away from it.
It couldn’t be for the vixen’s parents. They had died so long ago and in a place far from this one, their bodies incinerated, and ashes left to the wind. And even if it was placed there as a reminder of them, it wouldn’t make sense to hide it from the girl.
The cross was for someone else.
Someone Sakura had loved.
Someone who had once lived here with her.
Ivy liked the cottage even if the demon didn’t. It was quiet and comforting and had everything that a person would need close by; food, water, shelter. But even though she enjoyed being here, it would be nice if they could do so without having to see the witch. It’d be nice if they came more often. It’d be nice if they could stay for longer than a day or two.
It’d be nice if things could be different.
The girl liked the cottage and the limited time she was allowed to spend there, but she also felt suffocated by all the rules that Sakura had laid down for her to follow.
Don’t go to the cross.
Don’t go in the room.
Don’t open this dresser.
Don’t sleep in this bed.
Don’t ask.
They had come several times over the years for different reasons, this time being that Sakura needed another ribbon that could turn into a cloak to hide the girl. They had woken up on a windy morning a couple weeks prior, and when Ivy had called for the ribbon, it ended up getting caught in a sudden gust of wind, and they had spent nearly an hour chasing it down. The demon then decided that they would get another ribbon that she would hold on to just in case they ended up losing the original.
When they had first arrived at the cottage, the fox went to force the door open just as she normally had to, due to the hinges being old and rusted and not wanting to move as willingly as they once had. But when she did so this time, her body fell into the room with the effortless swinging of the door, and she barely managed to stay on her feet. The demon instantly stuck her nose into the air, breathing in deeply in search for an uninvited scent, but Ivy could tell there was nothing much more than stale air for her to smell. She had ushered the girl in and closed the door before examining the hinges, running her finger over one as she chewed nervously at her cheek.
They were new.
Shiny and placed with care.
“Was someone else here while we were gone?” Ivy asked, looking around the room for other signs left behind. It was a silly question, of course those hinges hadn’t found their own way onto the door, but just who could have replaced them was a mystery.
“No,” Sakura said quickly, her tone not open for discussion. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Do you think Torg came all the way up here to fix the door?”
The woman straightened and spun on her heels, strutting past the girl to the kitchen. “I said don’t worry about it. It doesn’t matter. Come on, I’ll make you something to eat.”
The girl didn’t ask again.
And she didn’t worry about it.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
But she sure was curious.
Because it did matter.
She spent the rest of the day silently noticing all the little changes; a fixed spot in the roof, tools that had been laying in the yard were gone, and she found them neatly organized in the shed, where the wash basin and board were now placed.
There had definitely been someone here.
Someone who knew the place and saw fit to repair the things that were worn down and broken.
And Sakura was all wound up about it, ready to jump on the first opportunity to leave.
The woman had barely given the girl any time to settle after her meal before practically pushing her out the door and into the woods to the witch’s hut. She then completed the necessary tasks in order to obtain the ribbon with almost no fuss and quicker than Ivy had ever seen her do anything. Had it been up to the fox, they would have been gone the same day they arrived, having spent only a few measly hours there. However, Ivy had been able to convince her to stay the night with her tears and begging, exaggerating how tired she was and how sore her feet were. Once the woman reluctantly agreed, the girl attempted to push for more, another day or two or week, but that was all the leniency she was going to get.
She would just have to take what she could.
And not let the opportunity go to waste.
Ivy kneeled in the yard with the wash basin before her, lazily scrubbing, as she glanced over at the shed, certain that a few boards had been replaced and a fresh coat of stain painted on since the last time she’d seen it.
Who could it have been?
Why wouldn’t Sakura ever tell her anything?
The girl had tried asking in the past when she was younger and more naive. She asked what was in the room. She asked why there were three chairs at the table. She asked why there were two beds in the corner. She asked why they only ever slept in one. Who was the other one for? Where were they?
The woman would never say.
Just look like her heart was breaking.
So, Ivy stopped asking.
All the girl knew was that the vixen’s parents had died when she was young, and she had left the den and ended up here at this cottage. She knew that Maggie was cruel and enjoyed watching Sakura suffer. She knew that Torg and Okag were kind but careful about what they said around her after a quiet but stern warning from the demon during their first meeting.
But Ivy wanted to know more.
The girl got to her feet and hung the wash. It was warm out so she didn’t have much hope that their clothes would stay damp and delay their departure the next day.
She sighed.
She just wanted to stay.
So badly.
Ivy didn’t normally mind traveling. It had actually been quite the exciting experience being able to see new places and try new things. Sometimes it was awful though, like when they got caught in bad weather on the road. Or when they didn’t have enough coin for food, and Sakura had to find some random job to do so they could scrape enough coin together to eat. But it was always something new, and that was thrilling in its own way.
But Ivy didn’t want to do that anymore.
She wanted to stay at this cottage.
She wanted to wait.
But she couldn’t ask.
Sakura exited the house and went to the girl, helping hang what was left of the clothes. “I’ve got the vegetables prepped.” The woman smiled at the girl. “I’m gonna see what I can find in the woods. I won’t be gone too long. Will you be okay?”
Ivy beamed. “Of course! Do you want me to start supper?”
“We’ll start it when I get back.”
The girl nodded and watched as the woman left her and disappeared into the trees.
She counted.
Slowly.
One...
Two...
Three.
She turned and hurried inside, her feet taking her to the door of the room.
The one she wasn’t allowed to go into.
The one that called to her.
From the time she had set foot into the cottage, an invisible force had wrapped around her, pulling tighter and constricting her chest, making it so she could barely breathe.
Beckoning her to come near.
To relieve the pain.
To find what was meant for her.
Ivy hesitated for only a moment before grabbing the handle and turning, opening the door.
And allowing the air to fill her lungs and calm her nerves.
The room was small and plain, only holding a bed, dresser, and small bookshelf. She walked to the bed, neatly made. Her fingers brushed across the blanket, and she looked behind her.
But no one was there.
Not now.
But later...
She bit her lip and sighed.
Knowing that later would mean nothing without her here.
She crawled into the bed, listening to the whispers that were just barely there, left behind by another.
It was so warm.
Like the last fleeting rays of the day’s sun.
She wanted to stay.
She wanted to wait.
But she couldn’t ask.
She could only cry.
And leave behind whispers of her own for the other to follow.