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“Hey, Futaba, do you wanna talk about it?”
Beneath a sky of string lights hung by Akira himself was a cocoon of blankets wrapped around a raw Futaba, more goo than flesh. She didn’t speak; only shook her head.
Akira crawled forward and sat next to the fortuitous mound. “Figured you could at least use some company. Just tap my hand if you want me to go.”
Upon the lack of contact, Akira stayed, and they sat in the static silence of the starry room.
The day started off strong. She was excited to tackle one of the goals on her promise list. Alone, she went adventuring into the perilous maw of the world only for it to spit her back out, tattered.
Now was the time to regain HP, but it also meant turning off her phone and hiding from the world; it worried Akira.
Without warning, she crawled out of her blankets and nestled herself in Akira’s arms.
“You were so brave today, Futaba,” he murmured, stroking her hair. “I’m so proud of you.”
A mousy whine escaped her lips, and then a sob. Quietly, she wept.
“I know. I know,” Akira cooed. “It’ll be alright. I’m here.”