Yay DRABBLE
... I blame Pan. BECAUSE THIS WILL PROBABLY HAPPEN SOONER OR LATER--?! Yaaaay chibis.
The first night was the worst.
The chill of the cave was a sharp contrast to the heat simmering in the sand beneath her feet earlier. If she shifted a little, she could just barely see the star-speckled sky from the entrance. The light didn't extend into the cave, leaving her hidden in darkness, a shadowed child whose eyes reflected nothing but a forlorn emptiness.
The stern-faced man in another corner of the cave didn't stir as she fidgeted uneasily, the jagged wound on her chest throbbing with a burning intensity that made it hard to ignore. Hard to forget.
Why? Her fingers curled loosely into the shirt that someone had more or less thrown at her and told her to wear (she wondered about the black patch over his eye, but had decided against asking). Why could she remember running, but not why? Why could she remember that the people crushing her under their mutilated bodies were her parents, but not know their names or recall their faces? Why could she remember a katana, the design eternally etched into her mind, but not...
Why...
Why couldn't she remember who she was? What else would she have forgotten with the passing of another night?
It was just as dark as it had been last night. It took little effort to bring the memory forward, almost as if it had been hovering at the edge of her mind, just been waiting for her to realize it was there. That didn't surprise her; it had happened fairly recently, after all. She remembered trying desperately to suck in quick mouthfuls of air as she ran, remembered being held, remembered her world exploding in blinding pain, remembered a voice, asking her--
"Are you cold?"
Tired dark eyes suddenly shot wide open in alarm until she recognized the speaker. The boy so many people called "Haine" (just as they called her "Naoto") was awake, his head turned towards her.
"N...." The sound of her own voice felt too loud, so she settled for giving her head a shake.
"You're shaking."
"... I'm fine." Her voice was barely audible and he leaned closer.
"... Aren't you tired?"
She didn't reply. She knew they were both exhausted, and thus knew what he was really asking: Why are you still awake?
"I don't want to close my eyes." Her fingers clenched the fabric tighter. "I-I don't... know what'll happen if I..."
Silence and a few feet separated them. Then both ceased to exist when a warm body settled down right next to her, strands of disheveled white hair tickling her cheek as he lowered his head to mutter into her ear.
"It's okay if you sleep. I'm not tired."
"But--"
His hand rested on hers briefly, causing her protest to die away before it had even stood a chance. "It's okay," he repeated. "Go to sleep."
She considered arguing, but it was evident from the firmness in his tone and posture that he wasn't going to budge on the issue. So she simply sighed instead, head slowly dropping to rest against his shoulder. Neither one moved for a few moments, nor spoke, the smaller of the children focusing on steadying her breathing to match his. Alive. They were both alive. There was no one pursuing them. No death. Just him.
"... Thanks."
She wasn't alone.
**~~**~~**~~**~~**
Saitou Hajime had seen many a strange and unsual sight during his lifetime, but Rammsteiner and Fuyumine curled up together like puppies, white and black hair intermingling and calm expressions on their small faces was something he'd never expected to see. Even as he watched, the girl murmured in her sleep and burrowed closer to her source of warmth, who drowsily shifted to accomodate her.
"Stray dogs banding together," he remarked to no one in particular, heading outside to smoke. "How appropriate."
On the second night, both children fell asleep immediately.
The first night was the worst.
The chill of the cave was a sharp contrast to the heat simmering in the sand beneath her feet earlier. If she shifted a little, she could just barely see the star-speckled sky from the entrance. The light didn't extend into the cave, leaving her hidden in darkness, a shadowed child whose eyes reflected nothing but a forlorn emptiness.
The stern-faced man in another corner of the cave didn't stir as she fidgeted uneasily, the jagged wound on her chest throbbing with a burning intensity that made it hard to ignore. Hard to forget.
Why? Her fingers curled loosely into the shirt that someone had more or less thrown at her and told her to wear (she wondered about the black patch over his eye, but had decided against asking). Why could she remember running, but not why? Why could she remember that the people crushing her under their mutilated bodies were her parents, but not know their names or recall their faces? Why could she remember a katana, the design eternally etched into her mind, but not...
Why...
Why couldn't she remember who she was? What else would she have forgotten with the passing of another night?
It was just as dark as it had been last night. It took little effort to bring the memory forward, almost as if it had been hovering at the edge of her mind, just been waiting for her to realize it was there. That didn't surprise her; it had happened fairly recently, after all. She remembered trying desperately to suck in quick mouthfuls of air as she ran, remembered being held, remembered her world exploding in blinding pain, remembered a voice, asking her--
"Are you cold?"
Tired dark eyes suddenly shot wide open in alarm until she recognized the speaker. The boy so many people called "Haine" (just as they called her "Naoto") was awake, his head turned towards her.
"N...." The sound of her own voice felt too loud, so she settled for giving her head a shake.
"You're shaking."
"... I'm fine." Her voice was barely audible and he leaned closer.
"... Aren't you tired?"
She didn't reply. She knew they were both exhausted, and thus knew what he was really asking: Why are you still awake?
"I don't want to close my eyes." Her fingers clenched the fabric tighter. "I-I don't... know what'll happen if I..."
Silence and a few feet separated them. Then both ceased to exist when a warm body settled down right next to her, strands of disheveled white hair tickling her cheek as he lowered his head to mutter into her ear.
"It's okay if you sleep. I'm not tired."
"But--"
His hand rested on hers briefly, causing her protest to die away before it had even stood a chance. "It's okay," he repeated. "Go to sleep."
She considered arguing, but it was evident from the firmness in his tone and posture that he wasn't going to budge on the issue. So she simply sighed instead, head slowly dropping to rest against his shoulder. Neither one moved for a few moments, nor spoke, the smaller of the children focusing on steadying her breathing to match his. Alive. They were both alive. There was no one pursuing them. No death. Just him.
"... Thanks."
She wasn't alone.
**~~**~~**~~**~~**
Saitou Hajime had seen many a strange and unsual sight during his lifetime, but Rammsteiner and Fuyumine curled up together like puppies, white and black hair intermingling and calm expressions on their small faces was something he'd never expected to see. Even as he watched, the girl murmured in her sleep and burrowed closer to her source of warmth, who drowsily shifted to accomodate her.
"Stray dogs banding together," he remarked to no one in particular, heading outside to smoke. "How appropriate."
On the second night, both children fell asleep immediately.