Aww, would you look at this. It's ruining my life.
It's 1999 anime only and it shall be damned. Look at Mito, she's freaking blushing. Also there's a scene that goes "Gon needs a father" then cuts back to Kite. Hmmmmmmmm
I'm asking, where are my people? I know, 2011 did Kite dirty but they're both like parents to Gon.
“Please Mr. Kite, you’ve gotta come to my house and meet Mito-san!”
He didn’t exactly jump at the chance. Coming here had been fruitless, save for meeting Ging’s boy. He felt a fire at his heels on this quest, always. He could practically hear Ging’s disapproving voice, his ridiculing laughter.
But Gon’s eyes sparkled like the sea surrounding them.
“Come on, Mr. Kite! Mito-san will make us something to eat!” He went on, he rambled. She’s a little younger than you! She’s really pretty! Her cooking is the best and you can stay in the guest room!
“Stay the night?” Kite’s eyes widened and his fists clenched. He hardly stayed the night anywhere, unless he was in a tent or balancing on a thick tree branch.
“Yeah! You must be tired and hungry, and you kind of smell!”
It was all too true for Kite to protest, so when Gon grabbed him by the wrist and tugged he followed, a defeated smile on his face.
.
The house was modest, but luxurious for his tastes. Even as a hunter, even making money, Kite rarely bothered to take advantage of the finer things. But the table was set with nice ceramic, and there was locally-made wine chilling in the ice box.
She came out of the kitchen and nearly dropped her platter. Fresh vegetables, slices of warm, homemade bread.
“Gon! You can’t just bring strangers into the house!”
“No, no! Mito-san! He’s a friend of Ging’s.” Gon tugged on Kite’s sleeve, urging him forward. He stumbled some, so out of place, an intruder.
“Um--”
“A friend of Ging’s, hm?” Mito set the platter on the table and her hands on her hips, striding forward, tilting her head up to stare Kite in the eyes. He gulped. He’d never really been afraid of anything. “So what’s wrong with you, then? I assume you’re just as much of a--”
“Mito-saaaaan!” Gon interjected, placing himself between them. “Mr. Kite is Ging’s student! He’s really nice and he saved my life!”
“S...student?” She blinked, backing off some. “Hopefully he’s not teaching you to do everything like he does.”
“Ah, no ma’am.” He found himself slipping his hat from off his head and holding it to his chest. “He helped me become a hunter, and--”
“And he came to Whale Island to look for Ging! But he’s not here! And now he’s gonna spend the night with Mito-san and me!” The boy took of running down the hall then, leaving them utterly alone. Her eyes stayed narrow, her arms folded over her chest like a shield.
“You smell. I’ll draw a bath.” With a huff she left him, dutifully untying her apron and heading for the washroom.
He soaked for about twenty minutes until he heard a loud knock at the door.
“Mr. Kite!”
He groaned quietly. He wasn’t sure exactly what he’d done to earn the boy’s respect. Mito was correct to assume he was nefarious…
“Y...yeah?”
“Mito-san says to put some clothes on!”
“Gon!!!” He heard her yell from outside of the bathroom. Kite snorts as he pulls the plug at the bottom of the tub.
“I’ll be right out, Gon-kun…”
He dressed in Ging’s old clothes. A ratty T-shirt and baggy shorts, the only thing he left behind on his last, brief visit that Mito thought would fit him. You’re...rather tall, she’d said. In the mirror he looked like a different man. A clean one, sure, but she’d taken his regular clothes and put them in the wash. Kind lady, to help him despite her suspicion. His long hair hung heavy over his shoulders, and looked so naked without his hat, also in dire need of cleaning.
Dinner was simple but presented beautifully. A roasted bird and rice, the bread warmed anew and the vegetables crunchy.
“Isn’t Mito-san’s cooking great!?” Gon must have asked the question five times. Each time Kite’s eyes fluttered to her, then to the table, then to his lap.
“Yeah...best I’ve had in a long time.”
Nearly ever. It was nothing like the meals he’d once had to scrounge for.
He swore he saw her cheeks flush, swore she bit her lip.
Imagining things, no doubt. His nature got the better of him, always hunting for some cure to his empty arms. Every woman he met seemed to charm him, somehow. And he seemed to charm them back. He owed better to any relative of his teacher’s.
Gon was forced to bed with some protesting, but not before wrapping his little arms around Kite’s waist. Awkwardly he laid his hands on his head, his back, and patted him like one might a small animal. Mito giggled behind one dainty hand.
“Go on, now.”
Gon kissed her cheek and scampered up the stairs.
“You two kids behave now…”
“You-- old woman, go to bed!”
Kite forced a calm expression as the grandmother climbed the stairs. Slow, creaking.
Her fists at her sides, Mito pouted all the while.
“That crone…” She softened eventually, sighing and looking up at him. You’re rather tall…”Come on. Let’s have some decaf and cake. I didn’t tell Gon we had any left because he gets so hyper…”
They took their cake and coffee in the sitting room, knees bent toward one another. His legs so long on that little couch.
“You surprise me, Mr. Kite.”
“Please…”
“Fine....Kite.” His name sounded sing-song on her tongue. Like she valued each letter. “You surprise me. I would expect any friend of my cousin’s to be…”
“An asshole?” he asked quietly, into his little coffee cup, smiling behind it. She chortled, covering her mouth again, trying to keep the cake in. He liked that little habit…
“Yes.” The flush of her cheeks told him she never heard foul language these days. He quelled his nastier thoughts, that she might like to hear more…. “I didn’t think he’d ever take on a student, but I suppose it’s easier than raising a kid.”
He set his coffee down on the little table before them, shoulders sloping.
“It must be hard to--”
“Don’t.” She held up a hand. “Don’t pity me. Gon is a wonderful boy.”
“He is.”
The clock ticked for a while, and that’s all he heard. His eyes, again, trailing to her, and back, and forth. So modestly dressed. Something sad about her eyes, behind all that sweetness.
“I’m sorry for snapping at you, Kite. Everyone always tries to help me, like I can’t do it on my own.”
“They should know better just by looking. Though I guess I...I wouldn’t know, I never had parents of my own.”
“That’s just awful!” Her lips hung open some, hands fiddling in her lap, eyes sparkling just like Gon’s had. Come meet Mito-san! “Kite, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s alright.” He waved his hand, ready to move on, but stopped short when he felt thin, soft fingers on his knee, when he saw that determined, pitying look on her face. He smiled. “Hey...don’t pity me, either…” He wrapped his own hand around hers, so small, and gave it a little squeeze. Ever-present were his wiles, and she quickly retracted her hand to her chest, flustering.
“I’ll...show you to the guest room.”
.
In the morning he changed back into his clean clothes and began to gather his other things, looking out the window to judge the weather. If he left right then, he could be across the channel before sundown…
“Mr. Kite!” Gon came bounding into the room, leaping onto the bed to jump. “Mito-san made breakfast! She said we’re going to the beach today!”
“It’s...autumn…” He put down his duffel bag, perplexed and antsy. He really needed to go…
“Mito-san likes to take off her shoes on the beach when it’s cool out, and feel the cold sand between her toes, and I like to do it, too!”
He wasn’t given a chance to deny them. One more day couldn’t hurt. One more bath at night to freshen him, one more night in a real bed to ease his tired back, aching far too much for a man his age. One more cup of decaf, one more slice of crumb cake…
At the beach she kicked off her little shoes and curled her toes into the sand. The place was utterly empty, and the strong sea breeze whipped at them, mussing her neat, slicked-back hair, making his own fly behind him like a victory flag. Gon ran off to brave the cold waters up to his skinny ankles, and they stayed behind to keep an eye on him.
Her feet were pale, but clearly overworked. He could see calloused rounding her toes and heels. But her nails stayed trimmed, her skin soft everywhere else. He could see her bones. He could see her ankles and calves, her long skirt hiked up some to avoid getting sand in its pleats.
With some coercing, she got him to take off his shoes and roll up his pants some.
“Feels good, actually.”
“You didn’t believe me? What do I know, I only live here.” But she grinned, and she laughed and she noticed the breeze pulling his hat from his head. “Oh!” Seemingly thoughtless, she placed her hand on his crown to keep it in place.
The breeze died down at that exact moment, but her dainty hand stayed upon his head, then his temple, one little finger tucked beneath his hat. She seemed to stare. Or, he wanted her to stare. He wanted her to see him, in the early morning at the cold, autumn beach, the sun overhead and reflecting off his pale, tired skin.
Her fingers trailed down his cheek, palm resting against his face as if that, too, could simply disappear into the wind.
It would. He couldn’t stay.
Just one more night.
.
Dinner was quiet, furtive glances and Gon telling wild tales. Occasionally Kite would indulge him, telling stories of his own bright-eyed youth, stories of Ging, stories of the Hunter Exam. Mito watched with her head in her hand, gazing adoringly. At Gon alone, Kite tried to convince himself. Motherly love. Nothing sweet for him, nothing admiring.
That night they stood on the porch, an uncharacteristic warm front coming through. She leaned on the wooden railing, the grain rough against her skin. He could give her splinters.
“You’ve been upgraded,” she said, somber, eyes never leaving the sunset.
“What?” He turned his upper body, leaning closer, studying her.
“You’ve gone from ‘not an asshole’ to ‘a real sweetheart.’” She bit her lip and grinned, tapping one foot behind her as she leaned farther over the railing. Modest chest pushed against her arms, fine hair failing all in her face. “But I know you probably want to get going tomorrow.”
“...I don’t have to.” He meant it, even if it came out of him like vomit from seasickness. He wasn’t quite sure where that was coming from.
“Don’t lie to me. I know you have to find Ging. When you see him, tell him he’s been downgraded.”
“From what to what?”
“From ‘a total assole’ to ‘a total asshole who failed to mention in any letters that he’d taken on a student.’” They laughed in tune, then, heads leaning inward, hands creeping closer. He took hers and smiled, bringing it to his lips, and her mouth parted as if to speak again, but she seemed to choke.
“I need to go to bed--”
“Oh--”
“I--I’m sorry, Kite.” Turning swiftly, she adjusted her clothes and shuffled toward the door, opening, letting it slam into the quiet night. He sighed, leaning back onto the railing, head facing the sky. It didn’t feel like a normal rejection. It didn’t feel like any other lonesome evening, going back to his room alone and drunk. He was sober as stone, and with a strange new aching in his chest. He was about to resign himself to one final night in the guest room, when he heard the screen door creak open again.
She stood there, silhouetted against the lights of the house, breathing heavy as if she’d just ran up a hill. As if forced by a sea breeze, she came close, hands gripping his collar and pulling him down. It was a sloppy kiss, if he’d ever had one. Clearly inexperienced, but hungry. Once he got his bearings he wrapped his long arms around her waist and let his jaw open some, breathing out against her skin--
She froze, hands curled even more into his shirt as she backed down, no longer on the balls of her feet. She seemed to shake like so many leaves, but he held fast and gentle onto her back. She felt so small, then…
“I don’t know what came over me…” Her voice was airy, like he’d emptied her lungs.
“I do…” One hand lifted, his thumb tracing her cheek and jaw. That old, lecherous seduction. He really ought to have spared her. Even if it felt a little more real. Even if his heart seemed to leap more than ever. “Let’s go inside, Mito…”
She gulped.
“I-I just met you, I’m not going to--”
He kissed her again. Soft and neat, that time.
“So we can talk.” His voice was low, deep. He spoke against her cheek like kisses.
They didn’t talk much. The guest room grew foggy with the haze of their messing around, and he was thrilled by their efforts to keep quiet. He was thrilled by how challenging that seemed for her, as he touched her, tasted her, whispered to her. Is it okay if I take this off? Do you like it when I do that? Her squealing drove him a little bit mad, that night.
But they stopped short of making love. He’d never called it that before anyway.
They did talk, then. His head resting on her bare chest, her arms around his sturdy shoulders.
“Ging would kill you.” He could hear the laugh bubbling in her lungs when she said it.
“Then maybe I should never find him.”
But they both knew it was mere play. He’d leave in the morning.
.
They woke up early on purpose, Mito gathering her clothes to make it seem as though she’d stayed the night in the proper bed. Her hair a mess, her face still flushed, it was hardly passable, especially as that little old woman ambled through the hall toward the stairs, mumbling some sordid metaphor under her breath as she shook her head.
Gon bounced at the breakfast table.
“What are we doing today, Mito-san?”
“Ah...we’re going to take Kite to the dock, so he can be on his way.”
“Awwww….” The boy gripped his fork and knife and tapped them sadly on the table. “But Mr. Kite likes it here! And Mr. Kite likes Mito-san!”
Kite coughed into his orange juice, blinking like he’d been slapped in the face.
“Gon, manners!” Mito spat, turning her coffee cup in her hands. Another little habit…
“I saw Mr. Kite kiss Mito-san from my bedroom window. It was kind of gross, but I like Mito-san, too!”
Mito buried her face in her trembling hands. The old woman cackled into the ether.
“Well...Mito-san is right, Gon-kun…” Kite wiped his mouth free of orange juice with the back of his hand. “I have to leave, but I’ll come back sometime--”
“But th...there’s a really bad storm coming!” Mito practically shouted from across the table. “I-I just remembered. It will hit this evening, so you should probably stay one more night!”
The table was silent, Kite aghast, but hardly able to protest. The journey called to him, but her laugh, her lips, her skin, the little guest room and the way her toes curled--
“Well. Safety first,” Kite agreed, putting down his fork with an air of finality.
“But he’ll come back sometime, Gon.” Mito smiled across at him, eyes seeming to softly plead. “He promises. Right?”
“...yeah.” Sheepishly he gazed at his hands. He meant it. How unnerving.
.
That night they didn’t talk much either, but it was much more sordid. The house was dark and quiet, and they held one another’s hands as they walked down the hall toward the stairs. They ought to call it an early night--
But something seemed to snap, and soon she was gasping, and he was needy, and she was pressed against the tacky old wallpaper, pulling at the pleats of her skirt to hike it up. His hands were beneath her homespun shirt and his trousers fell to his thighs. They had to be quiet, a soft ah, ah, ah that didn’t echo, from her sweet lips. She was no virgin, and he was no prince charming. She was a local girl who never went steady, and he was a drifter who’d been too many places, kissed between too many shoulder blades and mumbled sweet nothings against too many necks. But he found his favorite skin. He found his favorite hair to pull and his favorite breasts to hold. His favorite voice to hear.
