Work Text:
Sometimes, nightmares still linger in his sleep. The fire, the Golden Bee. The paper cranes. The spider lilies—symbolizing he is never to love and be loved. He was so sure it was all over when Hugo Kuroiwa died that day, it was a long while since.
Chiaki wakes up with a cold bead of sweat in the middle of the night, the room felt a little stuffy in the middle of summer. His fingers dig into his own arms—where his spider lily tattoos have been engraved into. He overthinks.
His beloved—she stirs awake, likely from him thrashing in his sleep. She hugs Chiaki from behind, bare and all, nestling her cheek against where his spider lily tattoos etch into his skin.
"Chiaki," she mutters under her breath, clearly half-asleep, pressing her lips on his arms—his tattoos—and kisses it so gently it felt a little tingly and ticklish; like a bee attracted to flowers. "I'm here for you. Always."
Chiaki wistfully smiles, cupping his hand on the fingers that dig into his waist, mouthing a small thank you and kissing her on the forehead.
He is Chiaki Kashima, not Hugo Kuroiwa, and that's more than enough.