All Who Wander [Chapter 20 - WINTER]

Katsuki halted, ducking between two houses to brace himself against the winds, grimacing as he waited for the gust to pass. It was officially winter again, the first blizzard kicking up right across the mountain, and Katsuki had been making his way from house to house, ensuring all the shutters were closed for those who might struggle to do it themselves. Toshinori followed along behind him, carting a pile of firewood for anyone who might need it, and Katsuki wrapped an arm around the strong neck as they huddled between the buildings, sharing their warmth.

“Okay buddy, let’s go,” he said, when the winds began to calm. “Almost there, we’ve got this.”

The last house on the row belonged to an old lady who had lost her husband the winter before, and sure enough, her shutters were wide open, clattering in the wind. He didn’t bother to ask permission, just made a lap around the house and locked all the wooden shutters in place. Grumbling to himself, he knocked on her front door, listening to slow, shuffling steps as she headed over to greet him.

“Hey, Granny,” he said, when she cracked it open to look. “I closed your shutters, you okay here?”

“Oh, you’re a dear. Thank you for your help. Come in and warm up a little, before you head home.”

“Thank you,” he agreed, though personally he’d rather just get going. “I appreciate it.”

He took off his gloves and untied his boots, whacking them against the porch and getting rid of as much snow as he could, before he set them in the entryway to come back to. Under his arm he carried a bundle of firewood from Toshinori’s cart, setting it in the holder beside her fireplace without waiting for her to agree.

“You got food here?” he asked.

“Of course! Would you like a snack, dear?”

“Oh, no, I’m good, I just wanted to make sure you have something to eat when you get hungry. With this storm, it might be hard to get everyone together for a meal.”

“That’s very kind of you. I have some milk set aside, and some of that fish you brought by yesterday.”

“Okay, I’m glad. If you need anything, if you can make it to our place, we’ll be happy to help. Otherwise you know the drill, right? You got your flag somewhere?”

“Right by the door,” she assured him. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a snack?”

“No, I just ate, but thank you. I’d better get going soon, I just wanted to check in.”

“I appreciate that. Thank you, Masaru, you’re a fine young man.”

Katsuki winced a little, but didn’t correct her. Her husband had done the same thing, just a year ago.

“Have a good night. Stay safe, okay? And keep warm.”

“You too, dear.”

He stopped at the door to pull his boots and gloves on, giving her one last wave before he made sure the door was shut tight behind him, and then he was back at Toshinori’s side, with another quick hug for the delay. They only had one more stop to make, to get Toshinori back to the stables, and then he would be ready to hurry back home through the wind and snow on his own. It always felt a little easier with Toshinori beside him, even if he felt a little guilty for dragging Toshinori through the poor weather with him.

“There we go,” he said softly, when they reached the door of the stables. “Come on, buddy, let’s get you comfy.”

Toshinori wasn’t a big fan of other reindeer. Katsuki understood the sentiment, really, considering he wasn’t a fan of other humans. During the warmer months, Toshinori spent a lot of time outdoors, just hanging out alone or following people around, but in the winter, Katsuki was forced to use the stables a lot more often.

“One day, I’m gonna build you your own stable,” Katsuki promised, as he brushed Toshinori down. “We’re gonna have a little place to ourselves, just you and me. Maybe up in the mountains, where we can get some peace.”

With the cart stored away, the wood and water buckets filled, and some firewood thrown in the little stove that kept the stables bearable, Katsuki said a last goodbye. It would probably be a few days before he could get back, judging by the howling winds, and Katsuki always hated that. Toshinori was his best friend, he could happily spend all day just sitting in the field together, if he didn’t have so many other stupid responsibilities.

“There you are!” Masaru burst through the door as soon as Katsuki got close – clearly the sap had been staring out the cracks in the shutters again. “Is everyone doing okay? Come warm up.”

He dragged Katsuki over to the fire, throwing a blanket around his shoulders and thrusting a hot mug of milk into his hands, and Katsuki cracked a smile, nodding.

“Everyone is fine,” he assured his dad. “Granny down the road didn’t seem to know the storm was even happening, but she’s good.”

“I was afraid that would happen. Last winter...”

He trailed off, but Katsuki nodded anyway. Between the two of them, they’d spent far too much time leading the old man back to his house, when he’d wandered out with barely a coat on. Katsuki still wondered what would have happened if things had been just a little different; if they’d lived close enough to spot him sooner, or the village had enough food to spare that the old man didn’t go out wandering so often. He hated to think that he could have done more.

“Everyone I asked has fish and milk at home to eat tonight,” Katsuki said, after he’d taken a few sips of milk. “But I think I need to get around with more, tomorrow.”

“Hopefully we’ll get a break in the weather,” Masaru said, though they both knew it was unlikely. “The trader said those jars we bought will last a long time, so maybe we can deliver those around, get people to keep them as an emergency reserve.”

“I thought the same,” Katsuki agreed. “But some of them are packed with vegetables, and the soups look really thick, I was wondering about thinning them out, to spread them further.”

“That’s probably a good move,” Masaru agreed. “We could explain that, though. Tell them if they get stuck, to add it to water and heat it that way. Or maybe the jams? The trader said they were sweet, we could tell people to mix them with milk when they get desperate.”

“I like that one,” Katsuki admitted. “We have so many jars of it, too, so we can probably give one to every household as emergency supplies.”

“I’d love to learn what they do to the jars to last so long.”

“Yeah,” Katsuki agreed. “Then again, it’s winter, our stuff will last long as fuck anyway.”

“That’s a good point. Maybe we could thin out the soups and deliver them to everyone in jars, for the people who don’t have their next meal waiting.”

“I like that,” Katsuki said. “Do we have enough jars to go around?”

“Maybe, just barely. We could ask people if they have any empty ones, when we deliver the soup.”

“None of that we bullshit,” Katsuki warned him. “You can help cook, but it’s my turn to do the deliveries.”

“I’m not that old yet, Katsuki.”

“You did your time,” Katsuki reminded him. “Relax and let me take care of it.”

Masaru smiled softly, finally conceding a little nod.

“Okay,” he agreed. “Thank you, Katsuki. You’re a good man.”

“Just doing my best to keep up.”