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I’ve been burned many times for assuming someone’s size is any indication of how strong they are. But when she showed up at my door… all I could think about was how small she looked.
“Sakura…”
“Asahina.”
“Call me Hina, please.”
I nodded, and Hina pulled the sleeves of her sweatshirt over her palms. She looked at the floor, my shoes, down the hall, anywhere but me. I was used to that. When we’d had tea earlier, she’d been much more relaxed. This was different. She was anxious about something.
We stood there in the unnatural silence that permeated every inch of this horrible school. I was fine with silence, normally. But there was nothing normal about this place. Every muscle in my body was tight with anticipation of an attack. I made the conscious effort to uncross my arms, trying to look less threatening. Clearly she was upset — unless it was a trap, which I couldn’t rule out.
Finally, she spoke.
“Would you— would you sleep in my room?”
Hina looked up at me then, her big blue eyes shining and her mouth pressed into a determined line. She was scared. I was all familiar with people being scared of me… but that wasn’t what this was. She wasn’t scared of me. It took me a long moment to process that, and I responded without fully thinking through what I was saying.
“Sure,” I said.
The reaction was immediate. Shock briefly passed over her face, and then she broke into a huge grin and pumped her fist.
“Okay! Great!” Hina pushed past me into my room, and started bundling up the blankets and pillows into her arms. “Whoa!” She said, ponytail whipping back and forth as she looked around my room. “Is that a pull-up bar? Can I use it some time? When we couldn’t find a gym anywhere I was SO glad I brought my weights — you can use them whenever you want!” She glanced at my arms on her way past me, out into the hallway with her own arms full of bedding. “Though, um, they probably aren’t heavy enough.”
I blinked, and stared after her as she crossed to her room and pushed the door open with her foot. “Come on!” She said, flashing a smile.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been flustered. Shaking my head, I grabbed a nightshirt from my duffel and carefully locked my door.
Hina’s room was so different from mine.
Structurally, they were identical. The same flat bed, desk, and bathroom. But every surface in Hina’s room was adorned with something. Sports equipment was piled high on the desk. There were posters of Olympic volleyball teams, pop stars, and landscapes all pinned to the walls in haphazard rows. The weights she’d mentioned were on the floor near the bed, and she rolled them out of the way with her foot so she had space to walk.
I stepped into her room, took a last look out down the hall, and then shut the door.
“Sorry about the mess. I only worked up the courage to come ask you like, 5 minutes ago, and I was worried about getting to your room before 10 o’clock.” Hina flew about the room, pushing clothes under the desk, sweeping candy wrappers into the trash, and arranging the pillows and blanket from my room on the bed. I stood by the door and tried to make myself as small as possible to stay out of her way.
Eventually she stopped and rubbed her sleeve across her forehead. Her cheeks were flushed as she grinned up at me.
“I can sleep on the floor,” I said.
“No! I mean— you can’t— you’re my guest! I had thought we could share but of course you need more room than that. I’ll— I’ll sleep on the floor!”
I shook my head, unnerved by the speed and intensity of her arguments. We both looked at each other, then at the thin carpet on the floor.
“I guess…” I swallowed. “We can share.”
“Great!” Said Hina. She unzipped her sweatshirt and tossed it under the bed. “I sometimes kick in my sleep if I’m dreaming about swimming or soccer, so just pinch me if I start doing that—” I managed to turn away just as she lifted her tank top, revealing the soft curve of her stomach. Fuck. I scanned the room, and then strode into the bathroom at what I hoped was a reasonable pace, leaving Hina to ramble and undress where I couldn’t loom over her.
I changed, then took a moment to lean against the door and breathe. I could still hear Hina chattering on from the main room, her voice muffled by the bathroom door. The sound of her constant dialogue took the edge off my nerves. She was just like this — forward and bubbly and warm. Cautiously, I eased the door open and looked back into the main room.
Hina was in the bed, the corner of the blanket pulled back where she had left a space for me. She yawned, stretching both arms overhead and causing her loose fitting night shirt to raise and reveal her side.
This was fine.
I’d survived a ton of sleepovers in the past. Granted, those were all well before I took up half the width of a bed. This was going to be fine.
Hina flashed her cheery grin again, and patted the mattress next to her. I made my way towards the bed, and carefully slid in next to her. “I’m exhausted,” she said, stifling another yawn. “Who knew that being kidnapped would be so much work?” Her expression darkened a touch. She looked… sad. I reached out a hand and rested it on hers which laid between us.
“We’ll figure it out,” I said.
Hina’s eyebrows came together as she looked up at me. She gave a sharp nod. “You’re right,” she said. She wiggled her hand around so she was clasping mine. “We will.” She yawned again. “But… tomorrow.” Her eyelids drifted closed.
She was still holding my hand.
I laid there perfectly still, my whole body tight, as Aoi Asahina drifted off to sleep. Soon her breathing was slow and even. Her lips were parted ever so slightly. Every so often her breath came out as a tiny, rumbling snore.
I tried to relax. Every muscle in my body was tensed and ready to fight, to defend myself against an attack.
And still, Hina slept.
With each passing minute, she laid there, vulnerable and small and… peaceful. Her hand was still clasped to mine, though her fingers were slack and soft with sleep.
With a start, she gripped my hand tighter. I tensed again, moving for the first time since I’d laid down. I looked around the room, at the still-locked door. Straining to hear anything through the sound-proofed walls, I waited.
Nothing.
Hina tugged on my hand again, and I looked back down at her. Her eyelashes fluttered. Under her eyelids, I could see her eyes darting back and forth.
She was dreaming. Slowly, I raised my free hand, reached it across her, and laid it on her back. When she didn’t react, I moved slowly, carefully, with all the precision of movement that my years of training had instilled in me. I rubbed long, slow strokes down her back.
Hina let out a sigh, and her fingers relaxed in mine. She tilted towards me, and I froze, scared I had woken her. Both her hands reached out towards me, until they gripped the front of my shirt. Eyes still closed, Hina pulled herself across the last few inches of space between us, until her face was buried in my chest, her hands clutching my shirt, and her breaths became slow and even again.
I didn’t dare move.
She was so warm, so soft, so fragile in sleep. My eyes stung, and I blinked away tears, not fully comprehending why they had come, being careful not to let them fall on her.
We fit together perfectly. Every soft curve of her body melded against me, as though were cut from the same piece of cloth long ago and finally reunited, whole again at last.
I swallowed thickly, and tried to push these thoughts out of my mind. She was asleep. If she woke, she would pull away. She might think I had moved her in her sleep, and be angry with me. I grimaced at the thought.
No.
Aoi Asahina had already showed her hand. She was vibrant and kind and bubbly. She was hopelessly optimistic. And above all… she trusted me. Why else would she have brought me in here? How else would she have fallen asleep so quickly, so soundly?
From the darker part of my brain came the thought that this was a trap. That she was feigning her trust to lull me into a sense of security.
I hadn’t realized I was rubbing her back again. My body, that had been tight and rigid for so long, had softened as I lay here, arms wrapped around Hina’s sleeping form.
She mumbled something against my chest.
I ducked my head and tried to make out her words.
“Sakura,” she said. Her eyes were still closed, her dark lashes resting against her soft brown cheeks.
My words caught in my throat, and I swallowed again. “Hina?”
I felt her hands tighten as she clutched the front of my shirt. Her words were so soft I could barely make them out.
“I feel like… I feel like I’ve known you forever.”
Soon her breathing slowed again, and she slept. I rubbed gentle strokes down her back until I felt sleep claim me, and for the first time in this horrible day, I felt truly safe.