As promised, Friday evening arrived, and Raven kept his word to Roxy and Faith. A week felt like an eternity to the two little puppy, who had been buzzing with anticipation for Raven's return. School dismissal couldn't come fast enough, and as soon as the bell rang, they practically dragged Raven towards Ri and Jihu's house, their small hands clutching his.
The familiar scent of pine and wood smoke greeted them as Jihu opened the door. His eyes lit up when he saw Raven, a mixture of relief and concern etched on his face. "Raven, you've come," Jihu stated, then his brow furrowed slightly, "How will you manage to stay in front of Shu?"
Raven remained silent, his expression momentarily clouding over. He knew what Jihu meant. Maintaining this human form took immense energy, energy he was running dangerously low on. Roxy, sensing the unspoken tension, stepped forward, her small voice surprisingly confident. "No problem, Uncle Jihu," she declared, placing her hands on her hips. "Mother hasn't come back from college yet. You should think carefully and decide how Father will present himself to Mother when she does."
Jihu chuckled, impressed by Roxy's quick wit. But Raven was utterly charmed. He scooped Roxy into his arms, her giggles echoing in the hallway. "That's my clever daughter!" he exclaimed, showering her face with playful kisses. "Only my daughter could come up with such a wise solution."
Faith, standing slightly apart, tugged at Raven's jacket. "Mr.," he began tentatively, his lower lip quivering slightly, "Do you only love Roxy? Don't you love me?"
Raven's heart melted. He gently lowered Roxy, then reached out and lifted Faith into his other arm. "Who said that?" he asked softly, looking into Faith's innocent eyes. "I love you too, Faith. I love you and Roxy equally." He paused, a playful frown creasing his forehead. "But Faith, I'm your father Jihu's friend. Why do you call me 'Mr.' and not 'Uncle'?"
Faith's gaze shifted to Jihu, seeking his permission. Jihu simply smiled and nodded encouragingly. Faith turned back to Raven, his cheeks flushed a delicate pink. "Father, I want to call Raven Uncle Mr. because Raven Uncle is very handsome."
A wave of warmth washed over Raven. He glanced at Jihu, and a shared memory sparked between them. Last night, in the privacy of Jihu's home, Jihu had tended to Raven's weakened form, witnessing a glimpse of his true, ethereal essence. The memory was both poignant and strangely humorous in this context. A silent understanding passed between the two men, a bittersweet smile gracing Jihu's lips.
"Okay, Faith," Jihu said, his voice full of gentle acceptance. "Call Raven whatever you want."
The afternoon unfolded with the effortless joy of children's games. Roxy and Faith, oblivious to the undercurrent of unspoken emotions, tumbled through the living room, their laughter filling the house. Ri, Jihu's wife, worked quietly in the kitchen, the rhythmic clinking of dishes a comforting background melody.
As the afternoon waned, and shadows lengthened, Jihu realized that Shu was unusually late. "She must be held up at the college," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. After waiting a while longer, Jihu turned to Raven. "Raven, come with me for a moment. I need to talk to you."
Leading Raven to a quiet study, Jihu closed the door behind them. The playful atmosphere of the house faded, replaced by a sense of hushed urgency. "Raven," Jihu began, his voice low, "You are visibly weakening. Maintaining this form is draining you. I need to replenish your spiritual energy, just enough for you to get through tonight."
For what felt like a long time, Jihu focused his energy, channelling streams of warm, revitalizing power into Raven. Raven closed his eyes, accepting the healing, a deep sense of gratitude washing over him. When they finally emerged from the study, Raven felt marginally stronger, the oppressive weight of his weakened form slightly lifted.
"I should take Roxy home," Raven said to Jihu, his gaze softening as he looked towards his daughter, still engrossed in her game. "I'll wait there for Shu to arrive." He scooped Roxy into his arms. "We should go, little one." He bid farewell to Faith and Jihu, a silent promise hanging in the air, and stepped out into the cool evening air, Roxy nestled securely against him.
The walk home was a blur of familiar streets, but it was the sight of the old house that truly struck Raven. Years had passed since he'd last seen it with human eyes. The paint was peeling in places, the garden overgrown, but it was undeniably, achingly home. A wave of emotion, a complex tapestry of longing and regret, washed over him.
Roxy, sensing his shift in mood, tilted her head, her brow furrowed with concern. "Papa, what happened? What's wrong?"
Seeing the worry in his daughter's eyes grounded him. He hugged her tighter. "Nothing, my dear," he reassured her, forcing a smile. "Nothing at all. Are you hungry? Would you like me to make you something to eat?"
Roxy's eyes widened in surprise. "Papa, can you cook food too?"
The question transported Raven back to another time, to the early days with Shu, in this very house. He remembered the clumsy attempts at cooking, the burnt offerings, and Shu's unwavering praise, even when the food was barely edible. A bittersweet smile touched his lips.
"Yes, I used to cook for your mother, honey," he said softly. "Tell me, what do you want to eat?"
Roxy's face lit up. "A sandwich!" she declared with enthusiasm.
Raven led her to the kitchen, a space filled with ghosts of memories. He made her a simple sandwich, his movements a little rusty, a little unsure. It wasn't gourmet, but as Roxy took a bite, her eyes sparkling, she echoed words that resonated deep within Raven's soul. "Papa, it's very good!"
Just like Shu used to say.
They ate together, a quiet intimacy settling between them, then began to explore the house. Each room was a portal to the past, whispering fragments of shared moments, of laughter and dreams. They paused in the room that had once belonged to Shu and Raven, , before he had moved away. Raven stood in the doorway, Roxy by his side, a palpable sense of nostalgia hanging in the air.
"Papa, did you live in this room?" Roxy asked, her voice hushed with awe.
Raven nodded, his throat tightening. "Yes, little one."
Suddenly, Roxy darted away, disappearing into another room. She returned a moment later, clutching a brightly coloured storybook. "Papa," she pleaded, holding it out to him, "Will you read to me now?"
Raven couldn't deny her. It was a wish, a simple innocent wish, and his daughter had been denied so many. "Of course, sweet girl," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "But you have to be sleepy. I'll read you a story, but you have to fall asleep while you listen."
Roxy nodded eagerly. She snuggled into bed next to him, her small body radiating warmth. Raven opened the book, a familiar copy of Beauty and the Beast. He began to read, his voice a low, soothing murmur. The words flowed easily, each syllable a gentle lullaby. Before he knew it, warmth enveloped him, and the gentle rise and fall of Roxy's breath lulled him into a peaceful slumber.