She couldn't remember the last time she'd allowed herself to sleep in the presence of another living, breathing person. It had been hard to fall asleep, imagining she could hear a pulse in the room that wasn't her own. That there was an open patch in her new home's room helped; she could see the stars
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There wasn't much he could do about that, though, even staying the night. Startled awake by her screams, he sat up where he'd been sleeping on the floor and pushed to his feet, not fully awake, but instinctively looking for an intruder and seeing no one. "O-Ren," he called, moving to her side. "What happened? O-Ren?"
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With more trembling than she wanted to admit, O-Ren climbed off of him and sank to the floor.
"Sumimasen," she gasped. "Sorry."
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"I'm sorry," O-Ren repeated, and lifted a hand, the sword clattering to the floor.
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Careful not to spook her, though she seemed more awake now, he moved in to put an arm lightly around her shoulder, as if she were Summer. Sometimes it just helped to have someone else around. "What kind of dream?"
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Her cheeks flooded with color. Only the strongest warrior can be vulnerable, said the old woman teacher in her memory.
"If I tell you, you have to promise not to be mad."
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She watched him now, intently.
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Perhaps resultantly, O-Ren hated normal beds.
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Why she'd found her life worth saving in that moment had always been a mystery to her.
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