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A monster's claws don't always seek to harm.
The last shot rang out in the empty space, filling the few dark spaces with a path lit by electricity. Everywhere, there are mannequins simulating battle poses and targets going back and forth. In the middle of it all, a man with a yellow ribbon sighing bitterly, his gloved fingertips tightening the string of his bow.
An elite man, who has tirelessly strived to achieve exceptional efficiency...
"On the tip of the feet. Impressive, Asaba."
Failing. Again and again. Miserably.
As his palms began to shake, he realized that his inefficiency was because something was terribly wrong. Again. With a rebellious sigh, he raised the gun with another arrow loaded. He wouldn't leave without hitting the target once.
But it all happened so fast.
Once the tip finally collided with the plastic head, he felt two spikes pierce deep into his neck, like the fangs of a beast pouring venom into his skin. And it was burning him.
He screamed in pain, but there was no sound. And also there was no time to think between the dizziness and blurry vision as he heard an alien voice scrape his throat. He didn't even have moment to question why the entrance to the training area connected directly to the reception of HAND headquarters.
"Sh... Shit..."
He reached the entrance while cursing, the gloved fingers brushing the glass surface. Looking up, he wished he hadn't.
In front of him, a reflected silhouette that gave a glimpse of the night streets infested with civilians. A silhouette that didn't belong to him.
And that everyone seemed to fear.
It had to be a hallucination, he couldn't just accept that that was what they were looking at. Who would look at him like that if not?
However, it was relatively easy to smash the material into pieces with such a desperate punch. The man's expression trembled in disbelief. Blood on his knuckles.
"Where's the rest...?" He didn't know if he asked out of fear or hope of having them nearby.
He then ran without hesitation outside the imposing building, only to discover that he wasn't there, but on the streets of Lumina Square. Buildings and businesses with flashing lights had never been so intimidating. No matter where he went, he could hear a hundred voices of strangers. Blaming him. Suffocating him.
He felt so small that he could only collapse on the asphalt, covering his mouth and holding his choker with increasingly weak strength. As if he needed to keep secrets until his last breath. He begged the nothingness over and over again to please be quiet, to leave him alone...
Silence.
The echo of voices is replaced by a soft hum, a single, quieter voice, as if seeking to chase away the torments with its melody. And called by the sweet voice, snowflakes scatter around, covering him. Anxiety and confusion overtakes him as he watches them fade away one after another on the asphalt, but he hopes they don't.
He lets out one last dry cough before pulling his palm away from his mouth, wanting to reach at least one. Wanting to preserve it.
Maybe one would reach his heart.
The next thing Asaba feels, it's a light illuminates his eyelids, clearing his vision. He had fallen asleep.
From the mere reflex of suddenly waking up in the middle of the night, he sat up in pain. His head ached and he could feel his muscles still suffering from the effects of sleep. He ran a hand over his body, as if to make sure everything was still in order.
He had a vague memory of how he ended up on another night like that. In fact, he didn't have any. Harumasa's mind was spinning and could only close his eyes as he thought about what he saw. The familiar burning in his lungs with each breath.
Clearly, he had a nightmare.
He dreamed of practicing his archery skills, as a routine of a completely normal day being an agent of Section 6. A day that wouldn't count as the best.
But after failing the last one, he felt a liquid running through his veins. His pierced neck added to his desperation to escape somewhere, and then the projection of a reflection and voices spitting out unmentionable appellations that he shouldn't be hearing. Until in an instant, lying on the streets, accumulating empty emotions, everything calmed down.
From somewhere, he began to hear a lullaby. Soft and enveloping. So cruel that he could cry with her, and so gentle that it would make her decease less heartbreaking. As little audible as it was, he wouldn't have minded staying a few more seconds to listen to it; looking at his palm stained with the blood from his mouth.
He even swears he heard it after regaining consciousness.
"It was beautiful..." He thought, giving him the strength to open his eyes and glimpse the cushion of the couch...
Wait.
"Are you okay, Asaba?"
The calm and sweet voice of a woman behind sent him an alert. Then he remembered; he wasn't in his apartment, nor in his living room. He was in the Hollow Special Operations headquarters, Section 6's office, after collapsing on the couch. And as he turned his head, another confusion came.
The distinctive pink hair, impeccable uniform highlighting a soft and curvaceous body, with a serene and pure face staring back at him.
"Tsukishiro...?" He blinked a few times to make sure he was seeing right.
Before he could process what Yanagi sitting next to him implied, she placed a hand on his forehead. Apparently, he no longer had the ribbon on his head, because their temperatures clashed instantly. And her fingers absorbed the immense heat from Haru's skin. At least she didn't take off his choker...
"As I feared, you're still feverish. You'd better rest a little longer." She says, her voice calmer than it had sounded before. She lazily crawled over to Harumasa's body.
"Uh, no... Tsukishiro, what are you...?" His dry throat barely lets out a moan before letting him finish. He licked his lips and swallowed, preferring to rephrase the question "Or better, what are we doing here...? Am I still alive...?"
"Most of the staff has already left, and a few hours ago we returned from an operation at Scott Outspot. You fell asleep, remember?"
So it was exhaustion from something so common in his life. What a humiliating blow for an HSO agent.
"Ah, I see. And as a good Deputy Chief who cares for her weak and tired subordinate, you allowed me a moment of peace before working overtime. You're so considerate it warms my heart." He made a dramatic smile as clutched his chest "Well, I'll make it up to you for that now. It's time to work."
She stopped him by grabbing his wrist. Too obvious, when normally he was absurdly skillful with words.
"As much as I'd like to see you gladly fulfilling your duties for once, your reaction upon waking up tells me that you're not in condition. And that's not your usual response." She argues in a firm, but non-invasive voice "Did you get worse?"
Saving his wordiness for just a few seconds, Harumasa took a few more steps that resonated against the echo of the enclosed space; working on a good response while overlooking the slight shock in his heart upon hearing her.
"It's just the work overload..." He keeps his back slightly hunched. "That's what happens when you ignore my requests for so long, Deputy Chief. Leaving that aside-"
"That doesn't convince me." She cuts him off. "Unless you want me to remind you who covers for your absences when they start getting rejected, I need to know what's going on." Yanagi's tone of voice doesn't give room to doubt that she's serious. Even with his back turned, he swears he can feel her inquisitive gaze piercing his stomach.
By the time the threat landed, Harumasa was already rummaging through his desk for his medications. But of course, there wasn't much he could do if enough time hadn't passed yet for the dosage, as prescribed. Now that he wanted to escape the situation...
"Time is never my ally..." he mutters under his teeth, exasperated. "Hey, it's fine, it's fine, there's no need to be so drastic. It's just a liiiittle bit hard to explain. So I deserve at least to be you told..." He turned around and leaned against the table, crossing his arms. And trying his best not to bring his hand to his forehead in front of Yanagi.
"Why, in all ways, did I wake up...?" The gesture with his head and hands replaced his lack of energy to speak.
'Tsukishiro, why did I wake up on your lap?' Is what he would normally ask if he wasn't too tired to deal with the embarrassment of admitting it.
She narrowed her eyes, her more uninhibited expression unveiling a bit of her concern.
"You really don't remember?"
"...Absolutely."
Yanagi let out a sigh. The line of her lips tightened slightly.
"When we arrived, you threw yourself onto the sofa holding your forehead, so I approached you after seeing off Miyabi and Soukaku. Then, you leaned against me and whispered 'let me sleep next to you' and I could feel your skin starting to boil. To avoid complications, I chose a method that would make it easier for you to sleep." She explains, straightforward and elegant.
... Huh?
"Stop joking around, Tsukishiro. I didn't know you were capable of saying such... compromising things." Although Harumasa's tone was mocking, he was hiding the fact that he didn't want to believe it.
"You think I would lie like that?"
"Well, you were already able to slap me. Now anything is possible." He argues wryly, rolling his eyes.
"There's no point in putting yourself in a situation like this without a reason." Yanagi shook her head in response. And the truth is that he couldn't deny it, because it was too surreal to be true. Normally, she would have tried to wake him up so that he could finish the papers that had been putting off for days.
His superior would do nothing more.
"Of course, because otherwise you would never treat me so special, right...?"
"What-?"
Maybe the dream altered his senses too much. Instead of thinking it, it escaped as a murmur between his teeth.
He clicked his tongue shamelessly, almost without spirit.
"Nothing. Forget it."
The silence is deafening. He regretted being so careless sometimes when he was guided by his more impulsive side.
He manages to hear a deep breath. Then, a subtle restlessness against the couch. The tranquility of a young night greets him at the windows, totally oblivious to the tension between the two... Colleagues? Friends? Hoping that it would help him control the accumulated discomfort.
"Asaba... do you trust me?" Yanagi brushed a strand of hair from her face.
Tense.
The mere mention of what would be considered a luxury for him sent a chill down his spine. Asaba snorted and lowered his head, feigning an unusual interest in the paperwork stacked on top of the folders in the center of the table, which he had yet to review.
"What is that coming for?" He asked, more as a distraction than out of actual confusion.
Yanagi tended to worry about what she might convey to her co-workers. She had a calm, in-control voice that kept the team in order in the most risky situations, a superhuman ability to memorize large amounts of information that she could express quickly without making a mistake; and to the extension of that, an exceptional ability to plan strategies that always lead Section 6 to impressive results in each mission. And many times, that efficiency forced her to keep doubts about her ability to herself.
There were few times when she allowed herself to falter in front of them, just to make sure that, despite her strict but not unfair calm, and often indifferent in the professional field, she could continue to provide them with security. With the effort she made every day to keep the team standing.
He test her reasoning on occasion, it is true, but it was because he wanted to prove that he understood her logic, and his contribution could perfectly complement her sharp mind. He did not want to feel less... Efficient.
A burden. Yes, maybe that was it.
"With how weak you are at this moment, it is inevitable that a little of your vulnerability escapes. It cannot be a bad observation on my part." Yanagi says, adjusting her glasses. She looked away for just a second, to then rejoin in Harumasa "Is there anything else you want to tell me?"
Of course, she is so observant that it is scary. But that word, coming from Yanagi, feels bittersweet.
She was not asking him for professional trust now. It had nothing to do with work. A fact that Harumasa was ignoring, or seemed to be.
"Why are you asking me for trust, Tsukishiro? With all due respect, what's the point of that when you don't even tell us about your vision problems?" He looked more offended than he'd like. After glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, he tilted his head completely to her side.
She tried to hide most of her surprise. Not just at what he was saying, but at how he was doing it. How could he...?
"I don't... I don't have-"
"Slacking off isn't the only thing I do when we're on overtime, you know?" He snaps, coughing and giving a wry smile. "I've seen you stare off into space a few times. You hide it well, though. And it's not normal for you to lose focus in the middle of a battle like today either. For a minute, I even considered carrying you in my arms here so you wouldn't trip on your heels."
The light reflecting off her glasses prevents him from seeing the reaction. Asaba only needs to notice the slight flinch of his superior's body to know. Discomfort. Uncomfortable with him. His lips tightening into a misshapen line as he feels frustration reach him.
"It's an... Unnecessary topic right now. The important thing is that you recov-"
"Unnecessary, you say? Where's the trust you speak of? Do you expect me to turn a blind eye?" His voice rose at least an octave with each question, more desperate, to the point of coming closer at a shaky pace. The realization is like burning his skin, because she doesn't deny it, and she didn't tell him before. "Why don't you trust... In...?"
"Asaba!" It was her weakest imitation of a scream. The wobbly reaction made Yanagi act on impulse and she gently held him by the shoulders, the taller's expression darkening as she sat them both back down.
A louder cough invaded him and his head throbbed, what a mocking game of his own body. Of course, who would want to place their trust in an abomination that can't even protect itself. An unstable force that would be a slave to it's danger if it didn't have something to keep itself at bay.
He's selfish, he knows. And he wishes with all the little strength in his body to be a source of security that once lacked him. "Trust me, please... Why don't you do? Tsukishiro..."
Yanagi helped him sit next to her, clearly alarmed by the labored breathing and the cold sweat that was building up on his body again.
"I told you that you need to rest more, Asaba. Why don't you ever listen to me?" She mumbles fragilely, still not letting go of his shoulders.
"N-No, don't worry, Tsukishiro. I told you that I'm... Fine."
Contrary, he found it difficult to contain the discomfort caused by an itch in his throat to speak. Fantastic...
Before he knew it, Yanagi had pulled out a handkerchief and carefully wiped Asaba's forehead, as well as the area from his neck to his collarbone, and he made a monumental effort not to push her away of there. With her other hand, she held his shoulders firmly but carefully, preventing him from imposing any distance between them again.
He couldn't deny it, it was refreshing.
The fabric that brushed against him was already damp. Haru thought she must have been doing this while he slept, perhaps to soothe his shivers. His throat rose and fell, and gritted his teeth.
Even though there were no other people in the room, he felt... Strange. This brought back some sort of deja vu, back in his days confined to a hospital room. His master remained beside him in bed, offering him almost paternal calm with warm words and gentle caresses on his small shoulders. To assure him that everything was okay, that the monsters of his nightmares were gone; and he remained in the fortress, as he always had. But that man too...
The situation, this time, provided a radically different sensation. Some tickling ran from the tips of his feet to his head, without pain in between.
Forcing himself to look away, he realized that he was embarrassed by how much he liked this treatment.
"Seriously, Deputy Chief, can't you please be your usual self and let this topic go? I'm not a child." Harumasa snorted lightly, almost begging.
Despite the latent tension from just a few seconds ago, Yanagi regained her composure quickly, as always. She paused briefly to reflect on the raw truth she had just heard.
"I can't keep respecting your secrets if I have to see you suffer so much at the cost of it, Asaba." She gently pressed the cloth against his boiling skin, changing into a pained expression. The one she used whenever she caught him in his coughing fits. "Tell me, please. Did you have a nightmare?"
The genuine concern came too late, to be noticed by someone who was still upset at ignoring the questioning about her vision.
"I dreamed that I turned into something horrible in the middle of everyone."
Yanagi's confused voice and face lowered the blood to his feet. "I'm just kidding." He quickly corrected, regretting being too honest. "How horrible it would be to mutate into an ethereal, don't you think...?"
He stopped feeling the dampness of the fabric for a moment. Then, it returned in a slower, more hesitant pace.
"... Asaba, please don't say things like that, even if it's a joke." Yanagi muttered, the glint in her eyes silently reprimanding him. But this time it was more like a plea than a scolding.
The man beside her gave a low growl, and he clenched his fist weakly. Sometimes he detested his lack of influence over her, unlike Miyabi or his 'daughter'. Outside of the fact that he could never convince her to approve his leave requests, digging further into the complications of her private life would lead him to a dead end; both because he had no right to be confided in by her about things that only God knows how he could resolve. And because there was no way to pressure her, his superior, without it seeming inappropriate. Like now, when it was so easy for her to divert the topic that worried Harumasa.
What a contradiction. As if he weren't different in that sense.
But what he hated most was his own limitation.
He always had to be the one being cared for. His imperfect body can do nothing but beg for help, with that familiar burning throbbing inside him and the gagging of a complicated night; even when his mind and heart scream, in a theatrical performance, to cling to the humanity that allows him to be someone's hope for damn once.
The thought made him clench his teeth so hard, it seemed like they would break.
"Well, I know I shouldn't but... Please stop pitying me..." He says, his eyelids trembling in frustration.
He didn't need anyone's pity. That would mean they underestimated his ability, and other people looked down on him.
Suddenly, a shadow covered his vision. As he wondered what was wrong, he felt a pat on the head.
"That hurt!" Asaba groaned, the slight impact intensified by his state. "Why do you like mistreating me so much...?" He questioned, rubbing his forehead.
"You think it's just pity? Were you just joking? Then, what explanation do you give for this?"
Yanagi's thumb, which was stroking his head a few seconds ago, wiped the corner of his eye, and showed it to him.
"You're crying. And you were crying while you were sleeping." She snapped with heartbreaking rawness.
He clicked his tongue again. Pathetic, pathetic and irritated. Even though he was already prepared to give his all and maintain the reputation he worked so hard to build within the HSO, he seemed to cry at the thought of being weaker. Here he was, wanting to be the one everyone—the one she—trusted, the one they thought of when help was scarce, and he was crying over stupid things.
What did he say he was ready for?
Maybe wasn't. Maybe he was reluctant to the fact that the one he had to protect them from the most, was much closer than in the Hollow.
And he was speechless. Sunk in his fractured soul.
It's useless to escape what's already written in your soul. The cruelest and most insecure side, the one that he hid from the critical eye of the rest, hummed from him within like an apocalyptic chant Who are you trying to protect, anyway? Everyone you know can take care of themselves. She can protect herself... The only one who can't is you.
Relying on medications had never been so hateful... But contrary to what his mind wants to make him believe: he is not weak. For some reason he is part of the elite of the most important military forces of New Eridu; his arms always struggled to reach out to welcome her safely, even if he does not deserve to feel her warmth so close.
But how do you protect someone with the wings of death.
The wings of a crow.
"Come here." She asked dryly, and without asking permission, she laid him back down between her legs. The warmth of a hard-working woman's thighs embraced every fiber of delicate skin it could reach, as if they had waited to take him in for a long time.
"I don't pity you, Asaba." Yanagi continues, choosing her words carefully. "I don't like you reducing my feelings on this matter to mere compassion... Less if only a nightmare is capable of leaving you like this." Something in her tone reflects the knowledge that it's not as simple as that. But... If Haru wasn't comfortable sharing it, much less in the midst of a fever...
What right did she have to push him further?
That didn't stop the sparkle in Tsukishiro's eyes. So genuine, so pure that it would melt his gums, if he dared to look up.
The couch creaked as the young agent nervously settled himself on his superior's lap; the golden orbs, usually mocking, now more serious with the weight of an almost prophetic condemnation.
The strands of his dark hair tickled his cheek. He didn't even have the energy to be embarrassed anymore of being in such an intimate situation, again. And now conscious.
And at that moment, something stuck on his face came off... Just a little.
"Tell me, Tsukishiro, what would you do if suddenly, you looked into my eyes and... You simply found out that the one you see isn't me...? That something alien has claimed me...?"
The melancholic use of each sentence sent a stronger pressure to Yanagi's chest. Maybe because, Harumasa's own was suppressing that uneasiness. At a certain point, she was upset; what was the point of him making her imagine such drastic things...?
She frowned before had the control again. With a determined voice, she didn't hesitate to speak from the heart:
"I would do everything in my power to bring our Asaba back home."
... Wow.
Of all the possible answers, that one didn't even cross his mind. For the first time, he was at a loss for what to say that could justify the emotions that were pouring out around him.
"... Don't say things you might regret, Deputy Chief." Bring down her optimism is as bitter as his medications. With that purity she emanates at this moment, it is precisely why he shouldn't drag her into that corner of his soul.
"And you, Asaba, don't keep quiet about things you might regret." Yanagi blurts out another truth in response "Besides, no one is claiming that I regret what I said."
Another deathly silence. During that tense period free of disturbances from outside, accompanied only by the night breeze that crashed from outside against the reinforced walls, there was the unnoticed space to reflect on the weight of what was said, and what was not said.
Yanagi, above all, fell without repair in her bold statement. She realized how unfair it was, since she wasn't telling him anything either.
So, she took a deep breath. And took the first step.
"You know, this isn't something I would share lightly... But I care a lot about the three of you." She announces, distracting herself with her hand cautiously approaching Asaba's chest. "The mere thought of losing someone else... It makes me shiver at night."
She carefully wrapped her gloved palm around the area of her subordinate's heart. As if she needed to remind herself that it was still beating.
Warm...
The chill throughout his body is immediate, and his heart rate increases so much that he might think he was having another attack.
Talking about trust and security, for Harumasa, is digging up scars from the past. As he grew up and developed his own perspective on the world back then, remembering the furtive glances of compassion and tenderness from the medical staff, who gave him treatments in his childhood that he couldn't quite understand, and the uncertainty of whether his condition was more serious than they had painted for him; made it difficult to feel protected. The abandonment of his parents, who didn't even give him an explanation or farewell to leave him in the hands of strangers.
And then there's his master... Who was the only one who offered him anything like warmth and encouraging company.
And...
The daily vaccinations in his neck, slow and torturous mutations, the voice of a beast scraping his throat-
"I just... I don't want to even imagine a future where... you're not here, okay? Don't be so cruel as to make me think about that..." She confessed, a deep sorrow showing in the cracks of her tone; Asaba's lack of answers, due to his sudden disconnection from reality, was suffocating her.
But she really did say that.
The broken record that is his mind completely changed the focus, just by emphasizing that he had her presence. He remembers on Friday nights he usually invites her to a restaurant that passes through Lumina Square towards Yanagi's apartment, easing the burdens of their work week. The aroma of freshly cooked food and the liberating sensation of loosening her uniform, distracted her for a while from the pressure of Soukaku waiting impatiently for her with all the food possible. Let that little demon wait a while.
So much so that a 'The usual, lady and gentleman?' from the waiters was enough to serve them.
In one of those, affected by a much more distressing week than usual, he talked too much. She knows he has some illness, like all his team. Or rather, he has told her enough to suspect. But they didn't have to know that he had mental after-effects, or how long he had been with that condition. When he looked at her face, she looked away from the snow falling through the window towards him; and he felt the strong need to be completely honest. As if the weight of carrying all his nocturnal delusions alone, and the expensive treatments that he had to support with the HSO insurance and part of his salary; all that tangle of emotions drained from his body. Until only something resembling longing remained.
He was not willing to bet.
However, it seems that the doubts from his superior about his true condition had been silent all this time; just as he sealed the suspicions of her blindness. The mishap of a fever on a day so normal as today, somehow made them end up like this; and unravel, just a little, the white lies.
And how he is terrified of how it could affect the future, their future. If he even had one left.
Would things work between them? Would she look into his eyes, empty like the Hollow, with something more than indifference or dismay?
The cost of the different possibilities was too high. Yanagi, as Deputy Chief, had more than enough responsibilities. And he had to behave like her most competent... Colleague, who for some strange reason, she seemed to need more than the others. When he was not sneaking away from work.
What is certain for him now, is that Yanagi really, really, doesn't want to lose him. Not him, not Soukaku, not Miyabi... He'll have to settle for that.
But it's more than enough.
The wet gleam in his eyes intensifies, accompanied by a burning comparable to the one that pierced his neck as a child. Salty as blood, tears overflowed. How insensitive; she was trying hard to open up, and he couldn't offer her any kind of comfort to her greatest fear...
Without it being a lie.
"Yanagi... I'm sorry." Although he was still unfamiliar, he couldn't help but call her by her name "I'm not used to, well, this, and I know you just want to help me... But I..."
"I know." She patted him more soothingly "I know. I'm wrong too for pushing you so hard... Let's talk when you're feeling better." She said slowly, a softness like the silky fabric of her skirt. The brushes of her fingers in his hair became more careful, as if she were touching the pieces of an fragile glass.
"... Hah, I see... You know that I would never be able to harm you... Intentionally harm all of you, right?"
A broken gear wanting to work. She moved on to caress his cheek, struggling to keep the pieces in place. Haru's lips parted, holding back double-edged confessions.
"The only harm you would do is if you refuse to be reached, Harumasa." She replied, her voice a little more fragile "At least, this time you are allowing yourself to be reached. So... If you find it uncomfortable to be touched by others, promise me something..." She gulped slowly "... Allow me to take that position."
Yanagi's hand, almost from the moment she had started touching his skin, remained cold. No matter how high his fever was, the cold he perceived was like snow, creating a unique contrast to their current temperatures.
Haru wondered if her temperature dropped when she had Oni blood flowing through her body—a detail he managed to coax out of her on one of their, uh, 'dates'—. His mind grew cold at the thought. How could he take care of that? If he couldn't even warm them up.
"If you don't regret... Being so kind to me." Asaba's hand reached out to her and weakly intertwined their fingers. He could see the invisible claws, but if it was her, they had to obey him.
Maybe Yanagi was just saying that for habit to take care of her team... Either way, it's fine.
"Regret? I don't think so. At least not now."
"Haha, makes sense. I'm shameless." He replies with a raspy laugh, drawing lazy circles on her skin. It was all he could do for now, anyway.
"That's true. Your sick leave record for this month corroborates that." She argues the evidence bluntly. "It's also true that, to me... You're a good man, Haru."
He felt a knot so tight forming in his throat. The way the nickname melted on her lips.
He wished to hear that sound for the rest of his remaining days.
For the first time, he dared to observe his Deputy Chief's features. Pink eyes and hair, serene and silky, respectively. The scent of her expensive shampoo, her slightly chubby cheeks that he could nibble on, just to annoy her. She emanates serenity and tenderness, a tendency to sacrifice herself for others that frustrates him, but always provides a comfort; that's Tsukishiro Yanagi.
'You're a good man' Huh?
He's sure she'll make his tears seem like they were never there.
"Yanagi..."
"Yes?" She stared into his sunflower-colored eyes. A glimpse of purity and a glint in her eyes of something he couldn't quite identify.
"I want to go home."
In reality, Harumasa didn't have a place to call home. Going back meant seeing those pills strewn carelessly on his nightstand again, along with his medical records with scribbled notes of his condition. His messy bed a witness to his nightly torments, where he was accused of being a monster.
In his current state, asking to go back to something called 'home' would be an escape so that no one could see his mental exhaustion; something so out of place for a formidable and tenacious elite agent. Or a call from the depths of his worn-out heart to have a real home.
"Alright. I'll think of a justification for our absence from overtime tomorrow. We'll go home."
Or both. Maybe that's why he allowed himself the sentimental impulse to ask her exactly. To Tsukishiro Yanagi. Did he deserve it? Probably not. But...
"Ah, I see. Your diligent subordinate will help you relax. You have a lot to explain to me." And he closed his eyelids.
Although a little hesitant, she decided to nod shyly. "I'll try. 'I don't see' the hour that you do it too."
Harumasa glared at her with half-open eyes.
"Um, sorry. I'm not as good with jokes as you." The adorable woman laughed awkwardly at her attempt to make the atmosphere more relaxed. But he appreciated the effort. "Well, for now... Worry about resting. Please."
At least, with how incredibly kind Yanagi was being, he experiences a feeling similar to what he longs for, but he refrains from confessing out loud. He could talk to her about it using his usual smooth talk and flirtations that she won't understand; half joking, half serious. Just to record the slight reactions outside of the serenity that he manage to get out of her. That yeah would cheer him up.
As he sank into the depths of a darkness, no longer so threatening, he thought of the snowflakes from that... Dream: that purity, brightness and hope that they emanated, in the midst of a frigid and desolate environment.
At that moment, that lullaby caressed his ears again. The man gave himself completely to the melody, hoping that it would save him... When he wake up, he wanted to be his savior...
After Haru fell into a deep sleep, Yanagi remained stroking his head, perhaps longer than she should have. Her voice intoning a childish lullaby, until his delicate face calmed down.
"But I assure you, I would never do this gesture with anyone else." Yanagi thought, before kissing his cheek with all the softness she could muster. A salty drop melted on her lips in the process.
Haru's involuntary shiver made her smile.