The underlying growl had left Rory's voice, Jigano was glad to note. He seemed calmer now, less angry with the world - with himself. The bard felt better as well, comforted in a way that was still strange and new to him. Not since he had left his parents' house had he had someone he could turn to as he did now to Rory. He was the one who supported, comforted, reassured and soothed his friends. He was the rock, the point of stability they could rely on
except when they couldn't. When trust became complacency, became underestimation, became derision, became fatal
and he was proud of that.
But no one had ever asked if he needed support or comfort. Even Isuma and Hiraku, who had known him best, privy to his darkest secrets, had never considered that he might have a breaking point until it was too late.
But Rory was... different. He didn't just take the comfort that Jigano offered. He gave it in return, just as freely. He asked nothing of the fox, expected nothing, but gave him shelter, and gentleness, and hope. He let him keep his secrets... secrets that had nearly gone unspoken until it was too late.
Thoughts flashed through his mind, some well-articulated, others merely feelings. In the end the fox bowed his head in acceptance of Rory's not-quite-request, the gentlest of appeals doing what a harsh demand never could. He stood and jumped from the bed--
--and flowed upwards into the shape of a man, tall and lean with long white hair cascading down his back and caught only lightly into a tail. His clothing fit his body snugly but loosened to wide sleeves in pale greys and greens. He turned to face Rory fully, blue eyes full of trepidation as he said softly, in his rich tenor: "Jigano. I said my name is... Jigano."
except when they couldn't. When trust became complacency, became underestimation, became derision, became fatal
and he was proud of that.
But no one had ever asked if he needed support or comfort. Even Isuma and Hiraku, who had known him best, privy to his darkest secrets, had never considered that he might have a breaking point until it was too late.
But Rory was... different. He didn't just take the comfort that Jigano offered. He gave it in return, just as freely. He asked nothing of the fox, expected nothing, but gave him shelter, and gentleness, and hope. He let him keep his secrets... secrets that had nearly gone unspoken until it was too late.
Thoughts flashed through his mind, some well-articulated, others merely feelings. In the end the fox bowed his head in acceptance of Rory's not-quite-request, the gentlest of appeals doing what a harsh demand never could. He stood and jumped from the bed--
--and flowed upwards into the shape of a man, tall and lean with long white hair cascading down his back and caught only lightly into a tail. His clothing fit his body snugly but loosened to wide sleeves in pale greys and greens. He turned to face Rory fully, blue eyes full of trepidation as he said softly, in his rich tenor: "Jigano. I said my name is... Jigano."
