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“You’re late.” The river lapped gently at its bank, sunlight dappling its surface as the afternoon sun hovered above one of the two hills their river was situated between.
“I know, I know.” kantje sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was just saying goodbye to Onion, she said she’ll be gone for a while this time.” His grip tightens on his trident, all his worries for his daughter swirling through his head, but he forces them away. Onion can take care of herself, she’s a god now, even if he doesn’t fully understand how.
Arcy just scoffs, “Well, I can see that my time is clearly not all that valuable to you, so I guess I’ll just have to go…” He trails off, but despite his words kantje can hear the lightheartedness in his tone, and Arcy makes no move to get up from where he’s lounging comfortably on the small spruce dock.
“Oh shut up, you dramatic asshole.” kantje responds with a small laugh, swapping his trident for his fishing rod. “If you leave now you might miss your chance to finally beat me.” He settles himself on the edge of the dock next to Arcy, the other shifting his position so his legs dangle off the edge.
Arcy huffs in response, a determined glint present in his eyes that kantje is so used to seeing as he casts his rod out into the water. Their weekly fishing trips had become competitive quite quickly, but kantje always was the winner in the end. That doesn’t stop Arcy from trying though.
kantje loves these days, where they do nothing but talk and fish, and it’s just the two of them. Sure, there’s occasionally times when Onion or Rin or someone else will accompany them, but there are always certain afternoons that are reserved for just the two of them.
These afternoons are special to kantje, hours filled with laughter and worn fishing rods, the river splashing at their boots, until the sun goes down and the stars glitter overhead. Then they huddle around the fire, one or both of them shivering and soaked, from when someone inevitably gets shoved into the river. Usually it’s kantje, the victim of attempted sabotage on Arcy’s part. He still wins anyways.
No matter how many times he ends up wet and cold, kantje loves this time spent with Arcy. Sometimes it feels as though they’ve known each other for lifetimes, even though they only met when kantje arrived from Myth. Or at least, that’s when kantje first met him.
But Arcy isn’t like kantje’s other friends and family, he doesn’t look at him like there’s something missing. kantje knows it’s not their fault, he knows they’re trying –and he’s so grateful for that– and they’ve tried to explain what happened, but he knows he’s not the kantje they want him to be.
He sees it in the sad looks Onion and Rin wear when they think he’s not paying attention, in the way the jokes Saturn or Effy make fall flat, as though they’re meant for someone else. It’s in the cut off “This is just like when”s or the “Do you remember”s, small persisting reminders that he’s different, and that hurts.
But not with Arcy. Arcy does none of those things, he never brings up the kantje from before, never treats him like he’s someone else. Instead, Arcy insults him, snoops around the valley, and shoves him into the river whenever kantje annoys him. Still, Arcy is one of his best friends, and kantje couldn’t ask for more.
kantje is pulled from his thoughts as Arcy kicks his leg, glowing eyes narrowed to a heatless glare. “You better not be going easy on me, when I beat you today I want it to be fair.” In his introspection, kantje had forgotten to actually cast his rod into the river, a mistake which he quickly remedies.
“Ha! In your dreams.” kantje grins, sharp and playful, and Arcy tries to kick water at him. And sitting there, next to his friend, with golden sunlight warming his fur and the glittering river before them, kantje is happy. And that’s really all he could ask for.