“A bus?” Ham Song snorted. “This paper space is nothing more than the inside of an old bus cart?”

Ritsu took in the foggy green lighting and the dated advertisements. There were two seats facing opposite each other. Despite his complaints, Ham Song had already helped himself to one of them. Ritsu took a seat on the other one in an upright position.

Ham Song took notice. “Benign monkey, what are you doing?”

“I’m going to stay up and wait for Bodhi. I’m guessing they don't want to just sleep on the floor.” He noticed the disapproval on Ham Song’s face. “Don’t look at me like that. Without Bodhi’s help, we would have nowhere to sleep, and you know it.”

“Suit yourself, monkey. In my opinion, you give that monk too much credit, but what do I know?” Ham Song grunted and rolled until his back was facing Ritsu. “I’m nothing but an old pig.”

Ritsu leaned back in the seat and preoccupied himself by staring out of the artificial window above Ham Song. He saw a sleepy cityscape forever frozen in twilight. Every now and then, the image would flicker, as if to remind Ritsu that his essence was at the mercy of whatever was happening on the outside of the little paper crane.

Ritsu waited to the point where he could no longer keep his eyes open. As he drifted off, he lost track of time until a noise other than Ham Song’s snoring brought him back to attention. The monkey pulled himself out of his slouch to see a lump curled up on the floor of the cart. 

Thanks to the peachy light coming in through the window, his eyes quickly adjusted. Ritsu realized that the lump was Bodhi, curled up tightly and trembling at random intervals.

Without thinking, Ritsu left the seat and stretched out alongside the monk. He looped his arms around their middle and pulled them against his navel. He suddenly registered the lavender bath oils clinging to Bodhi’s skin. Taking a big inhale, he whispered, “You smell nice.”

“Ape,” Bodhi hissed through chattering teeth, “w-what do you th-think you’re d-doing?”

Ritsu only held on tighter when Bodhi tried to squirm away. “You looked cold. There’s not enough room for both of us on the seat, so I thought I would just come to you and help you warm up.” 

A particularly violent shiver passed over Bodhi. “These shakes have nothing to do with the temperature. I’m going through withdrawal, you dumbass.”

By then, Ritsu was too deep in slumber to hear Bodhi’s insult. Now unconscious, his glamour became untethered, covering Bodhi in a layer of warm, velvety fur. Their shaking became less and less frequent. They were close to drifting off to sleep themself when another presence plopped down next to them. 

“Don’t mind me, monk. I’m just trying to get warm.” The pig grunted before he went back to snoring. Bodhi sighed. Whether it was out of frustration or satisfaction, no one might ever know.