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The first thing Airi’s aching body recognises when she comes to is the hum of a song.
It’s one she’s heard Shizuku sing before, in the quiet moments before sleep, or when she supposes Airi isn’t listening. The words are foreign to her – a tongue she recognizes as Vouivran, but knows nothing else of.
She’d listen forever, to that lovely voice, if she could – but the sobering effect of consciousness reminds her. Last night’s misjudgment is carved into the tendon of her shoulder, and it burns.
The memory of last night filters, in pieces, through the back of her head. She remembers the rage in her chest; the acidic desire to have justice be done, coursing through her veins. She remembers the ugly faces of the bandits she’d pounced on, the scent of their blood as she ran them through, and the taste of dust in her mouth as she hit the ground.
Turns out, there were more than just a few of them.
It was a victory in technicality – they suffered enough losses that she’s pretty sure they won’t be coming back – but there’s no denying she got her ass beat badly in the process. The injury to her pride is almost as bad as the one to her shoulder. Almost.
No, by all accounts, given the thrashing she took (and gave!), she should be hurting in more places than just her shoulder. It’s not like her body isn’t aching – even breathing aggravates things – but she should feel like complete shit, instead of only a little bit like shit.
…which means, given the weight on her torso, Shizuku’s gone and pushed herself to the brink, again.
Airi opens one eye, experimentally, and as expected, there she is. Long, silken-soft teal hair spills all about the place; Shizuku’s curled up, head resting on Airi’s belly, dozing with an expression far too gentle for the likes of Airi’s company. Her tail sweeps from side to side, the feather-fluff at the tip stirring up dust with each lazy movement. She looks utterly serene.
(Ah, this girl…)
Frustrations aside, she’s okay – Shizuku’s okay – and from the looks of it, she’s dragged them both to safety. Airi’s body has been propped up on her bedroll, on a gentle incline for a little bit of elevation. There’re bandages covering her right shoulder, a little clumsily tied, and a pot bubbling on the little campfire she’s built. Whatever’s inside smells pretty good, too.
She cranes her neck – ow – to see if she can’t get a peek at it, but the angle’s not quite right, and – fuck , that hurts. While she’s wincing the pain away, Shizuku’s eyes blink open – she yawns, and stretches out her limbs, tilting her head with a smile.
“You woke up,” she says, like it’s something wondrous – like looking at Airi is wondrous. Airi doesn’t get it, personally, but it does something to her chest, anyway. Thankfully, her tail has the mercy to stay put. “How are you feeling?”
“Hey,” Airi manages, voice still thick with sleep. Her throat hurts, too – probably more from shouting than from injury, if she had to guess. “Not dead, I guess?”
Shizuku smiles a little bigger, at that.
Airi glances at the pot, and coughs, thickly – ugh, “…did you fall asleep with the pot on?”
She shakes her head – the feathery strands of her hair tickle Airi’s tummy as she does so. “I just took a little nap. Your face finally stopped tensing up, so I thought I could relax, a little…”
If she did relax, a bit, it could have only have been because Shizuku spent all that time healing her up. Sure, healing Arts can only do so much – the gash in her shoulder, regretfully, will have to heal naturally – but even just doing away with the minor stuff is plenty. She’s certain she’d hurt a lot more, without Shizuku.
Airi studies her face, though – there are creases, shadows beneath her eyes that weren’t there before, a tension in her temples that belies a deeper-rooted exhaustion. It’s approaching dark, now – which means Airi’s been out for almost a full day. Her gut instinct was right, then – no wonder she looks shattered.
“You look tired,” Airi comments; reaches out her good hand to cup Shizuku’s cheek. Shizuku leans into her touch, blinks bright blue-green at her. “You’ve been overdoing it, haven’t you?”
It’s become a little more common, as of late – half the time Airi will come back from a fight bloodied and bruised and Shizuku won’t leave her be until she’s closed every cut, smoothed out every bump and bruise to her own satisfaction. Maybe Airi’s become a little too used to her healing glow, but – it takes a toll on her.
Shizuku frowns – eyebrows furrowed. “And you didn’t?”
“I…” Airi doesn’t have a good response to that. The proof of Shizuku’s statement is obvious if she turns her head to the right. Still – she doesn’t regret it. “I just did what was necessary to keep those people safe.”
“And you needed to throw yourself into their camp, outnumbered, to do that?”
Shizuku’s voice is stern, but not threatening – and that just makes guilt pit even more in Airi’s stomach. She knows – knows she made a bad call, knows she fucked up, knows that it’s her fault, ultimately, that Shizuku is pushing herself this hard, but—
“Now, they won’t be harassing anyone else,” she says, softly, and averts her eyes as best she can. She can feel Shizuku’s eyes on her, though. “So it all ended fine, didn’t it?”
Airi shivers as fingertips ghost down her wounded arm, over the gauze. She turns her gaze back – Shizuku’s staring at it, like if she wills it to heal faster, it will, but an injury of this magnitude…? Not even the best healers in the world could fix it any faster than nature.
“Is this fine…?” Her voice goes quiet, contemplative. “I don’t think it’s fine.”
She remains that way, for a few moments. It’s not uncommon, as of recently, for her to be like this. Airi doesn’t really know what she could say. Yes, she could get hurt, but if she doesn’t do something – well, it’s not like there are many people looking out for the Infected. If she’s there, and she can do something, might as well.
The clock’s ticking, after all. She’s probably only got a few more years. Better to make something of it than not.
“I should change your wrappings,” Shizuku says, with a smidge of urgency. “You’ve bled through.”
Oh, so she has. Airi’s fingers come away a little wet as she touches it. Shizuku fusses around in her pack for spare cloth, returns triumphantly with a coil of it, her tail slapping the ground in satisfaction.
“Can you sit up?” Shizuku’s hand reaches around to support her back, as Airi gingerly pushes herself off the ground. It’s a little awkward – has to wobble to the side to avoid stretching her sore arm – but she manages to sit up without inventing a new swear, so close enough to mission accomplished.
“There,” Shizuku breathes, fingers dancing across Airi’s skin as she futzes with the knot she’s tied – gently, gently, so as not to disturb the wound.
It’s one of those (many) things that Shizuku is really good at. Airi’s received minor medical treatment from an assortment of dubious places, and most of them weren’t particularly concerned with pain. She’d gotten used to gritting her teeth about it, and then, here’s Shizuku, insistent on taking her time, so that it hurts as little as possible.
…Shizuku’s always doing this sort of thing, huh…?
She unwraps the cloth from Airi’s shoulder slowly – pauses, as she feels some resistance where the blood is thickest.
“This might sting a little,” she frets, brushing Airi’s hair out of her face.
It does – Airi winces, hisses involuntarily, tail shoots straight up as Shizuku rips the bandage off, but then it’s over, and Shizuku’s ghosting her hand down Airi’s better arm to soothe her. It’s not like it actually hurt. She’s had worse injuries – been in worse shape, but to Shizuku, every wound is something to care for.
It’s… pretty nice, actually.
She’s quiet as Shizuku wraps her back up – obediently lifts or lowers her good arm so Shizuku can secure it however she thinks is best. When she’s doing it herself, she’s never this thorough – it’s good enough if it’s more or less tight, and covers wherever she got cut. She’s managed up until now like that. Maybe she’s just not used to being taken care of. To be cared for.
Airi doesn’t have many blessings in life, but Shizuku might be one of the few. She didn’t quite understand it then, when they first met, but – looking at the worry in Shizuku’s brow, she might, now.
“All done,” she breathes – evidently satisfied with her work, she knots the bandage, and lowers Airi back down onto the bedroll. She rinses her hands, too – something Airi had to drill into her, but you can’t be too careful. “Now, you’re probably hungry…”
Truth be told, Airi isn’t, in particular – but she’s not so stubborn as to refuse food when it’s offered to her. Shizuku insists on feeding her, too, which is – fine. It’s fine. She’ll play along; she’s caused trouble enough for Shizuku, tonight.
The stew she’s made is tasty enough – she makes a show of swallowing enough to satisfy her adamant caretaker – and once Shizuku’s done away with the dishes, she pulls her own bedroll up close, and settles close.
“You’re not hurting too badly anywhere?” Shizuku presses – almost pouting.
“I’m fine, I promise,” Airi shakes her head, carefully. Even if she was in pain – well, Shizuku’s done plenty. “You fixed me up real good. Um – thanks, Shizuku.”
She hadn’t said that out loud, until now; maybe out of embarrassment, or shame, or just – god forbid – her own stupid stubbornness. The same stubbornness that put her in this situation.
“I don’t mind,” Shizuku breathes, as she hovers over her again – takes Airi’s cheek in her palm, turns her face slightly until they’re looking right at each other. “I just don’t like seeing you hurt.”
“I,” Airi searches Shizuku’s eyes for understanding. “You saw. I just…”
She’s not even sure she could enunciate the feeling that drove her. Just – a kid and their family, on their way to find medical treatment? Really ? Of course it would make her blood boil. Of course she’d lose it, of course she’d want to rip those bastards limb from – mm.
Maybe part of it was vengeance, in a way.
Shizuku’s hand on the back of Airi’s neck presses their foreheads together, until their horns bump. It really does put to work the contrast between them – the smooth ridges of Shizuku’s horns against Airi’s jagged mess.
“I know. I just wish you’d treasure yourself a little more,” she murmurs, as if she’s somewhere far away. “I do.”
Airi can only hope that fractional distance between them means she can’t see how Airi feels, hearing that. She’s never been subtle; flushed cheeks or a thumping tail giving something away. And she’s not sure, exactly, how to put to words this – whatever this is – that they have between them. She’s never been this close to a companion before; never been this close to anyone , before.
What can she even say, to something like that…? This girl, she’s really, truly—
“Those people you rescued…” Shizuku continues, mumbling a little, “…they were going to that place, weren’t they?”
“Oh,” Airi blinks – focuses, forces her tail to still, “uh, mm. I think so.”
Rhodes Island – some dubious organization Airi’s come across a few times in her travels. She’s not quite convinced they are what they say they are; what sort of medical research facility needs an army? And yet – it’s not like there are options, for the Infected.
“I know you said no the other day, but—” Shizuku murmurs, drowsily. “Maybe we could talk to them? Just to see?”
…it’s not like it would be that easy. The family they’d rescued said they were heading to some sort of Outpost, a good few miles away. It’s not like Airi’s seen any since leaving Chernobog, either – they don’t seem to have much business in Sargon, but – Shizuku’s eyes shimmer, a little bit, pleading.
Airi has to avert her gaze. She’s… she’s a little weak to that.
“I mean,” she mumbles, staring down at the floor – away from the affection in Shizuku’s gaze that she’s not quite sure she deserves, but – “If it’s just talking with them, then… I guess there’s no harm.”
Shizuku beams – leans back, and presses her lips to Airi’s chipped horn as she giggles.
“Good…! Good,” she clasps her hands together, the tip of her tail wagging even as she yawns. Airi’s not sure it’s worth that much fanfare, but – at least she seems to be satisfied.
Shizuku settles down, after that – curls up, tucked against Airi’s side, tail resting gently on her stomach. She’s probably exhausted – if she’s been using her healing Arts for hours, then…
“Maybe they can help you…” she continues – stops to yawn, eyes half-lidded. “Wouldn’t that be nice…?”
“Sure would be,” Airi says, though – it seems a bit far-fetched. She’s seen enough people wither away to know that curing it is a bit of a pipe dream. Managing it, though…? She could believe that, maybe.
Maybe there was meant to be a follow-up to that, but Airi feels Shizuku’s breath against her torso reach a steady pace; she’s fast asleep. Her good hand finds itself resting atop Shizuku’s head, nestled in the crook between her horns.
Mm. Airi doesn’t mind this – resting in the night, watching the rise and fall of Shizuku’s chest. She’d never really thought to consider what peace looked like, until Shizuku joined her. She’s a Sarkaz, after all – they don’t really get peace .
But… this might be close. Maybe.