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Rain tapped softly against the windows endlessly. The room was dim except for the pale blue glow leaking through the curtains. Lightning occasionally flickered somewhere far away, briefly illuminating the scattered energy drink cans on Haru’s desk and Peekaboo curled into a tiny ball near the foot of the bed.
You slept beside Haru beneath tangled blankets, your face half-hidden against the pillow. Unlike him, your sleep was light enough that even someone coming down the stairs that’s close enough to the bedroom could wake you. So when Haru suddenly jerked upright with a sharp inhale, the entire bed shook. His breathing was ragged and uneven, like he had surfaced from drowning. For a few seconds, he didn’t move at all. The rain outside continued to fall.
His silver eyes stared blankly ahead and unfocused, strands of his hair clinging to his forehead. Moonlight caught the metallic sheen of his prosthetic arm, the cold steel contrasting harshly against the warmth of his bare skin. The mechanical fingers twitched once, then clenched tightly. You stirred a moment later, blinking sleepily into the darkness.
“…Haru?”
Your voice came out soft and hoarse with sleep, he flinched slightly at hearing your voice. You pushed yourself up slowly, rubbing one eye before looking toward him properly. Even in the dim light, you could tell something was wrong immediately.
Haru was always loud, bright, cheerful in a way that overwhelmed entire rooms. Even exhausted, he smiled. Even stressed, he joked. Even when everyone else was falling apart, Haru somehow stood at the center holding everything together with ridiculous optimism and caffeine. But right now he looked painfully small, the silence around him felt unnatural. Rainwater rolled down the window behind him, streaking the glass like tears.
“…Bad dream?” you asked quietly.
Haru didn’t answer, his shoulders rose and fell. You noticed his gaze slowly lower toward his right prosthetic arm. Something in your chest tightened, you didn’t need him to say it as you had seen that look before. The distant expression, the way his jaw locked slightly. The subtle tension whenever conversations drifted too close to his arm, to the past, to things he carefully buried beneath laughter and endless energy.
You never pushed for answers not because you didn’t care. In time, you know that he’ll say it all when he’s ready. So instead, you simply shifted closer beside him, close enough for your shoulder to brush his back. The room remained quiet except for the rain, after a long moment, you spoke gently.
“…Do you want a warm drink before going back to sleep?”
You stretched slightly, trying to sound casual despite the worry curling inside you.
“I kind of want one too.”
Haru still didn’t answer immediately then he turned toward you. The expression on his face caught you off guard- he looks tired and vulnerable. Before you could move to get up, cold mechanical fingers lightly wrapped around your wrist.
You blinked. Haru’s grip wasn’t tight, it felt hesitant like he was afraid you might pull away.
“…Don’t go.”
Your breath caught slightly, it startled you more than if he had shouted. He was looking at you now with something painfully soft in his eyes. The storm outside rumbled quietly, he gave your wrist the faintest tug. Those silver eyes met yours fully now, no jokes hiding behind them. And suddenly, he looked like a lost child asking not to be left alone, your heart melted instantly.
“…Okay,” you whispered.
Haru visibly relaxed at that single word. You shifted back against the headboard, pulling the blankets around your lap. For a moment he simply watched you almost uncertainly, before slowly laying back down beside you but Haru buried his face against your waist, arms loosely wrapping around you while carefully avoiding pressing the metal arm uncomfortably against your side. The position was so unexpectedly clingy that warmth flooded your chest immediately. You looked down at him in disbelief.
“Haru,” you whispered with a tiny laugh, “you’re acting like a baby.”
“I’m sleep deprived,” he mumbled against the fabric near your stomach. “That doesn’t count.”
“You say that every time.”
“Because it’s true every time.”
Despite yourself, you smiled. There he was, a little bit of his usual self. Your fingers slowly moved into his hair; soft and slightly messy from sleep. You gently combed your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly against his scalp the way he liked. His reaction was immediate, Haru exhaled quietly, shoulders loosening beneath your touch.
“…There,” you murmured. “Better?”
“Mhm.”
“You’re too easy.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It absolutely is.”
He huffed softly and you felt the faintest smile against you as the room settled again afterward. The mechanical arm rested beside him on the sheets, unmoving now. Yet even without words, you could feel the lingering ache surrounding it. You wondered what he had seen in that nightmare, what memories haunted him enough to rip him awake like that… or maybe something worse. Maybe not the physical pain at all, maybe the loneliness afterward, the helplessness and the fear.
You looked down at him quietly.
Haru spent so much of himself taking care of everyone else that you sometimes forgot who took care of him. Jabberwock relied on him. Others complained about him constantly, yet still followed him anyway because Haru somehow kept the entire house from collapsing into chaos. He motivated people even when they hated it, he worried constantly like a mother, worked endlessly like a father, smiled endlessly and somewhere along the way, he had probably forgotten he was allowed to be weak and rest too.
Your hand slowed slightly against his hair.
“Haru?”
“Hm?”
“You know…” your voice softened, “you don’t always have to pretend you’re okay.”
His hold around your waist tightened faintly.
“…I know.”
But the answer sounded uncertain, you continued gently running your fingers through his scalp.
“I mean it.”
“…Sometimes I feel stupid.”
“For what?”
“The nightmare stuff.”
His voice was muffled slightly against you.
“It’s just a dream, right? But sometimes I wake up and it still feels real.” He laughed weakly. “Kinda pathetic of me.”
Your chest ached, you immediately shook your head.
“That’s not pathetic.”
Haru didn’t respond. You looked out toward the rain-covered window.
“I think…” you began slowly, choosing your words carefully, “when people get hurt badly enough, some pain stays longer than it should.”
The storm flashed pale blue across the room.
“And pretending it doesn’t hurt anymore won’t magically make it disappear.”
For a while, Haru simply listened.
“…You always say things like that.”
“Like what?”
“Stuff that hits too hard at two in the morning.”
You laughed softly under your breath.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.”
His voice had grown sleepier now, your fingers continued threading through his hair slowly and rhythmically. You could practically feel the exhaustion dragging at him again.
“…Can you sing me a lullaby?” he asked suddenly.
You blinked.
“You’ll regret this when you hear my voice.”
“I doubt it.”
You sighed dramatically, though affection tugged at every word.
“Fine,” you whispered. “Only because you asked nicely.”
“I always ask nicely.”
He laughed softly.
Carefully, you leaned your head back against the headboard and began humming softly. The kind meant for quiet nights and tired hearts. Your fingers never stopped moving through his hair while you sang. The rain outside accompanied you like background music, soft percussion against the windows. Gradually, Haru relaxed further against your waist, the tension left him piece by piece; his breathing slowed and the faint crease between his brows disappeared. You lowered your gaze toward him, eyes already closed now. Without his usual grin and loud energy, he looked unexpectedly delicate, just a man carrying more weight than he should. Your voice softened even more toward the end of the lullaby. You gently brushed his bangs away from his forehead.
“…I hope,” you whispered quietly after the song ended, “that someday the nightmares stop hurting you.”
The rain continued falling.
“I hope you can forget the pain enough to sleep peacefully.”
Your fingers lightly traced through his hair once more.
“And I hope,” you murmured almost silently, “you never have to carry it alone again.”
No response came, only slow even breathing and you smiled faintly. Haru had completely fallen asleep, his hold around your waist had loosened; soft and unconscious now, like he simply wanted reassurance you were still there. You looked down at him fondly and carefully, you adjusted the blanket around his shoulders so he wouldn’t get cold. Peekaboo stirred near the foot of the bed before waddling sleepily closer, curling near Haru’s side again.
The storm outside slowly softened, the rain no longer sounded lonely. You leaned your head gently against the bed headboard behind you, continuing to card your fingers lightly through Haru’s hair even after he was asleep just in case he woke up frightened again. And with pale blue light spilling softly into the room, you fall asleep too. Still holding him together quietly in your arms.