なぜあなたはしませんか？
Four days after getting back home from Kyoto (having successfully dodged imprisonment, and taking along with them Misao and Kurama's assurances that the 'So Fu matter' would be looked into more carefully thanks to her testimony and Shin's corroboration of it, Pai had absolutely no idea how she found herself alone in a luxury penthouse in Maruyama with Shin.
She did know, but she didn't at the same time. It was frustrating to retrace their smattering route through the day and the city, to logically see how it led to this.
But how?
It started off as a ordinary morning, much as it could be in Ayashi House. It was Wednesday, which gave her the reprieve of Shiori barging into her room like Pai hadn't put that chair in front of the door to specifically keep Shiori out until at least after eight o'clock. Shiori was a late sleeper, but she liked to wake up early on most days either to get to school on time or, if it was Sunday, to give Pai hell. Saturdays were the only days Shiori did neither thanks to the end of the school week, and to her unshakeable belief that Fridays were sacred and Saturdays, holy.
Unfortunately, today was a school holiday, a time when the kids assumed it was perfectly excusable to start up a hellish racket because no-school days automatically translated to all kinds of 'fun' for them. A good portion of that fun involved tormenting the Daitengu in impressively creative ways. Pai usually found herself roped into trying to control the chaos they made, together with Yukiji and Mizutani.
That hadn't happened this morning, though.
The kids didn't know what she'd done, where she'd been for the years she was missing, or what she was. They were much too young for that. She was relatively certain that someone had told them something, at least, for she woke that morning to their exuberant cries not in her room, but muffled through several walls.
They had decided the next best person to violently awaken that morning would be none other than Shiori. It was her enraged yells of, Let me sleep you demonic flying fiends! that echoed around the house ridiculously early that morning, and any stragglers still trying to remain barricaded in their rooms to sleep didn't have a chance to continue their peaceful slumber.
She would have enjoyed watching Shiori chase them around, waving one of the Karakasa umbrellas and mock-threatening to end their devious ways with it (much to the poor Karakasa's trauma). She would have loved to do that, instead of having to meet Aihara again that day – and this time, instead of Kaede being there to silently glare suspiciously at the nurse in alliance with Kanou, it was Shin who came.
Despite playing it off coolly, acting mature and level-headed as she liked to pretend she was, she felt like she'd walked a tight-rope the entire time Shin and Aihara shared breathing space in the room at Dokokai Hospital. It was exhausting to fend off Aihara's still suspicious questions regarding the obvious relationship between Pai and Shin whilst also keeping Shin from flat-out scowling the nurse away.
She couldn't decide which was worse; revealing to Sojobo Kurama that the monsters they all had to fear weren't hiding under the bed, but wielding guns right in his backyard, or acting as a human buffer between the man she loved and the woman who'd told him Pai was going to die, no matter what any of them did.
Shin wasn't an idiot. He knew that Aihara was but a messenger of what was to come. But several times throughout the meeting, she'd caught him looking at Aihara as if he blamed her for what was happening. All Aihara had done was bring their attention to the fatal reality simmering under the surface of their perceived happiness – yet perhaps it was for that very reason he faulted her for it all.
Pai did the only thing she could when she realized that. She put on a big smile that felt so natural when it was for Shin, and she tried to make him smile or laugh in whatever way she could, even if that meant doing random and stupid things (she swore to never purposefully get milkshake on her nose when she nearly spontaneously combusted when Shin leaned in and swiped it before licking it off his thumb). She didn't care. All she wanted was to make him happy, and it killed her to know that her condition was the reason he wasn't to begin with.
...maybe she wouldn't mind trying to milkshake thing again someday. Maybe.
Aihara had somehow managed to wrangle out of the hospital staff the room they'd used last time at the hospital. The tests she did weren't anything like what she'd asked Pai to do that resulted in them all finding out what her [ability] was. Aihara took her blood sample, but other than that, most of the time was spent going over her past. What she remembered of it, at least.
Aihara asked all sorts of questions, ranging from what her diet was like when she lived with her family, where did they live, what were her parents' names, did she ever notice anything odd about them, how long had she been aware she could see Yori Chiisai. They were simple questions. Like when doctors perused your medical history. Only with Aihara, she was trying to figure out which one of Pai's parents wasn't human, and what exactly they were.
No matter how contradictory it was to the current reality that was Pai being Hanyou, the one thing she was absolutely certain of was that neither of her parents ever gave of the feeling she got when around Hengen. In this new reality of uncertainty about everything she was, this was the one thing she didn't waver on.
The day in itself wasn't special. Nothing particular happened. Everything was going smoothly – until she and Shin got to the train station on their way home.
There had been an accident further up the railway lines, something mechanical. A technical team was on the ground to deal with the problem, but the robotic voice overhead informed the station that those going on the eastern tracks would be delayed until the next morning, at 06:00.
The next morning. Not that evening.
The next morning.
That was when Shin dropped the mother of bombs on her.
"There's a safe house we own in Maruyama that we can stay in for the night," he'd said, so casually, as if he was suggesting they stop at a café for tea. "No one really uses it unless they're staying around here for a while. We'll leave tomorrow morning on the train when it's repaired. How does that sound?"
It was a perfectly logical plan.
It was better than staying in a hotel, or camping out at the train station. They couldn't take the bus back because that would take too long, and neither had their bus passes with them to begin with. The car was with Jirou and Ryosuke, at the garage, getting fixed for some problem with the engine. Flying in Shin's arms wasn't exactly ideal because she didn't have on enough clothes to handle the cold, and he didn't want to risk her getting ill because of the winds. They couldn't very well walk back home, either; Pai wasn't adverse to walking forty-five minutes to get to a destination, but two hours? No thank you.
Really, it wasn't exactly like they had an abundance of choices to pick from.
They stopped at a supermarket to buy some basic things to get them comfortably through the night, like temporary toiletries. Shin picked out an incredibly soft and fluffy towel for her, and she knew right then and there that she'd probably only ever use that towel for the rest of her life.
Walking through the streets with Shin at her side was still a phenomenon she hadn't gotten used to. Shin noticed how uncomfortable she was with all the stares they attracted, pointedly from women, who all adopted faces like they'd just sucked on sour lemons when the hope glimmering in their eyes dimmed at the sight of her walking beside Shin. They only primly turned away from their ogling when Shin, with a sly and knowing smirk, put his arm around her shoulders and drew her closer to him.
Pai was very glad that she'd left her hair open today. It gave her perfect cover to duck under and hide her burning face. When he did that, she had to remind herself several times over that spending the night at the safe house was a perfectly logical plan.
But her heart quite literally went into cardiac arrest when Shin closed the front door behind them after they entered the apartment. She wondered if premature heart attacks were a thing. Maybe she'd be the first case of it for doctors to study.
Pai hadn't expected the safe house to be a luxury apartment in the ward neighbourhood where big cars were parked, windows plating the towering buildings glimmering as they reflected off the lights of the city around them. She wasn't sure what exactly she'd thought they'd be spending the night in, but it certainly hadn't been all this.
Polished marble floors in the lobby. Door handles that shone brighter than her life. Warm wooden floors under lush maroon carpets her bare feet sank into as she wandered from room to room while Shin talked to Kouta on the phone. Floor-to-ceiling windows that gave her unadulterated view of the city below.
No, this certainly hadn't been what she was expecting.
She stood by one of those windows now, wanting to touch the clear glass, but almost afraid to for fear of leaving her handprint behind, like some sordid piece of evidence at a crime scene. Or even tumbling into open air, the glass was polished so perfectly that it honestly didn't look like it was even there. The lights of cars speeding along the roads, slowing at traffic signs, strangely reminded her of the floating baubles of light that were the little Yosei. The apartment was a penthouse, right at the top of the tall building, and night had already fallen, so she couldn't see the people down below.
Pretty, Kuniumi giggled. A cold finger traced down Pai's cheek, and she turned her face away from the window, away from the hand. Like you.
Liar.
What? she asked in mock-petulance. Do you think you're an ogre?
You don't think the city's pretty, she replied, looking back at the flickering lights of the city. It wasn't the first time she'd caught the tangling, effervescent thoughts that sparked and died in Kuniumi like fireflies on their last night of life. You think it's a toy. Those people down there aren't toys.
To you they aren't. To us, this whole world is a playground. Everything you know was made for us. You are everything you are to who we once were. When will you ask him?
Kuniumi changed track so fast that Pai was left stumbling in the dark of confusion for a few seconds before a nauseating sensation settled in her stomach when she realized what exactly it was Kuniumi was asking.
I'm not going to.
Oh come on, come on! Kuniumi twittered. Stop being so boring, you're not any fun like this!
I am not your toy.
Do you think he's going to hop away like an angry rabbit if you so much as breathe his way?
That same cold, cold hand brushed her hair back from her shoulder. Pai jerked at the unexpected sensation of her hair falling from her shoulder down her back; this was the first time Kuniumi had touched her like this. She'd never physically affected her like this, moving things around in any noticeable way. Pai had always thought that Kuniumi resided solely in her mind, but what if that wasn't the case?
What if Kuniumi was as physical a being as Pai was herself? If she was...where was she?
A scowl worked its way down her brow. Shut up.
Why won't you?
I don't want to.
You do.
I don't.
We know.
Do you?
We do.
Then stop.
But you must.
I know.
Do you?
I do.
A wicked smirk twisted her lips before she could stop herself, before she could remind herself that her face wasn't Kuniumi's face. Through the clear glass of the window, she watched the savage smile break her face, the way her eyes darkened to mud brown. Her face was her own, but in the second before she wrestled control back, she was someone else.
Someone she recognized. Someone who was a familiar stranger to her.
You two are both right where you're wrong. Funny, isn't it?
There's nothing funny about this.
There's plenty that's funny! Kuniumi shot back, as if Pai had just insulted all the great comedians and hilarious happenings in the whole wide world. You're afraid of the same thing.
What are you talking about?
He's coming, she whispered conspiratorially. Pai drew herself from her mind just long enough to overhear Shin finishing his phone call with Kouta. See? We'll even leave you two alone.
Who said I – Kuniumi disappeared a second before she heard Shin call her name from behind her, jarring her out of her mind. Want you to leave, she ended, shoulders drooping.
She didn't understand herself. She wanted Kuniumi gone, scared of what would happen the longer Kuniumi stayed with her. At the same time she was just as afraid of what would happen to her when Kuniumi was gone, and there was no one else to peer into the abyss of memories with her, and pull her back from the edge.
She wasn't even sure if what Kuniumi did was pulling her back from the edge, or if it was pushing her closer and closer to it.
Pai shook her head and rallied her spirits, turning away from the city teeming with monotonous life below her, to face Shin. He was sliding his phone in his back-pocket as he rounded the elegant yet hard-looking furniture arranged in a U around a coffee table, all set in front of a large flat-screen TV.
"Jirou and Ryo still have the car in the garage," he said as he approached her. His eyes were crimson; a sign that he was comfortable and at ease around her enough for that. "So we'll stay here the night, then catch the train back home tomorrow morning."
She smiled up at him, trying very hard to quell the tide of nervous butterflies fluttering like mad in her stomach at the thought of spending the night here with Shin.
It wasn't like it would be the first time they fell asleep within vicinity to one another. The roof had become something of 'their spot' at Ayashi House, where no one really bothered them, except that one time Kouta flew in with Shiori in his arms, both blushing brighter than Christmas trees and adamantly refusing to say where they'd been (even after much teasing from Shin).
The roof was where they could spend hours together under the stars, talking or playing increasingly weird guessing games or simply being together in a comfortable shared silence. Sometimes she would go up to the roof with a book or her Kindle in hand to read in quiet, away from the raucous hollering of who was chasing who through the house, and Shin would join her a while later with his own book or play on his phone.
But that was different because it was Ayashi House; even when they were alone, they were never truly alone. There was always someone there, always someone walking in the house right under them, or in the garden. Not to mention Karasatengu's legion of spying crows perched in the trees outside the gates.
Here, they were the only two people on this entire floor in the building. She'd seen a few other people, all dressed in expensive clothing (she was sure the lady with the rose-themed, elegant high heels had spent as much money on those shoes as Pai had for everything in her entire wardrobe) walking into their own apartments, as they rode the elevator up, or coming out of them. She guessed that was the point of penthouses, the privacy afforded by them.
The thought did nothing to calm her.
"It's a really nice apartment," she said quickly, trying to distract him when she noticed him watching her for a beat too long. "This is what you call a 'safe house'?"
The apartment was more than 'nice'. It had an open-floor layout, which meant the only doors in the apartment were to the bedrooms (three), off to her left from where she stood at the window, and the bathrooms, one of which was bigger than her room at home. The ceiling towered far above them, long necks of the low-hanging lights creating an odd sensation of standing in a very long room. The furniture was themed in dark red and black accents that matched the overall setting of the apartment.
There were paintings hung on the warm-coloured beige walls, depicting scenes of rolling landscapes dotted with the occasional tree. If she was completely honest, those ones bored her. It was the painting set above the TV of a city in harsh blacks and whites that interested her, though she couldn't find the words to say why that was so. The picture would fit perfectly as the setting of a dystopian novel.
He grinned before tapping the end of her nose. "You've watched too many American TV shows. Not all safe houses are dark and dreary."
She gave him a deadpan look. "Who says I thought it would be like that?"
"Oh, I don't know," he answered as he took a hair band out of his pocket and started gathering up his hair at the back of his head to tie. "Maybe it's something to do with the gunfire from Shiori-hime's room every once in a while?"
That was one time, and Pai did not ask to be dragged into a marathon of watching Nikita to be Shiori's go-to translator when the subtitles were literally right there.
"Point," she admitted begrudgingly.
Shin flashed her a quick smile before putting the hair band between his teeth as he used both hands to pull his hair back. She watched his long fingers card through his hair so expertly as he fixed it to keep stray hairs from getting in his face and bothering the back of his neck. He'd been getting a lot of practise with that, now that his hair was long enough to be a bother when it got in his face (she was sure he had no clue of how positively bewitching he looked when the wind blew his hair like that) and long enough to be tied back.
She spoke before she was even aware of it.
"Can I do that? For you," she asked tentatively. Her cheeks burned as she quickly added, "I mean, I...I just thought – "
He grinned at her red-faced stammering, letting go of his hair and holding out the hair band. "No problem. You'll do a better job than I will. I usually cut my hair before it gets this long."
"You want to grow it out?" she asked as she followed him to the sofa.
He shrugged. "I don't think I care either way. I guess I've just been putting off going to get it cut."
"I understand that," she said with a small laugh. "My mother used to take me to get hair cuts because the curls in my hair would always be frizzy, and neither of us knew how to deal with it when it gets long."
"Your hair's long now," he commented. "So you eventually learned?"
She nodded as she sat on her knees behind him on the sofa as he sat so that his back was to her. "Yeah. I met Shii-chan, and she actually likes figuring hair stuff out and then actually doing it."
"Ironic considering her constant scissor threats to Kouta."
She snorted, unable to help herself. "Those are empty . I know she likes Kouta's hair as much as he does, for sure. It gives her an excuse to practice her skills." With only a little hesitation from nerves, she pushed her fingers through his hair, combing the dark strands with crimson woven through. She couldn't help marvelling at how soft his hair was, at the way the red ran into black so seamlessly. "Shii-chan helped me figure out how to deal with my hair so it's not a bird's nest all the time."
Shin chuckled at that. "I'm glad. I like your hair."
Her cheeks bloomed red at that, and she was so thankful he wasn't facing her to see how hard she blushed at such a simple compliment. She managed to get a shy thanks out before turning to focus on catching all of Shin's hair into a band.
His hair had gotten long enough that it brushed a few centimetres past his shoulders, just the right length to be pulled back into a low ponytail at his nape. Despite that, Kouta loved to tease Shin with how much longer Kouta's own hair was, only to promptly run away when Shiori would walk in holding a pair of scissors, even if it was for innocent reasons. Pai had long since noticed that Kouta was very nervous around scissors, even if Shiori had never once followed through with any of her 'threats'.
Tachi? Fine. Katanas? No problem. Obaasan's special butcher knives? Cool (Haru would beg to differ).
Scissors? Torture devices crafted by demons from hell.
Pai was smiling as she gently pulled his hair back, winding the long strands around her hand and snapping the plain black hair tie in place. She leaned back to inspect her handiwork. It was a simple thing to do, but, oddly, she felt like she'd just taken another step closer to deserving to be by Shin's side.
I just fixed his hair, she thought wryly as she patted his shoulder to indicate she was done. There's no big deal in doing that. Her heart, the treacherous thing, refused to agree.
"All done."
"Thanks." Shin turned to her, leaning back on the sofa as he ran a hand down his hair, smiling slightly.
Her smile broadened, remarkably steadier than her stomach. "No problem."
He nodded somewhere behind him. "Are you hungry? You haven't eaten since lunch."
She lifted an eyebrow. "Same goes for you."
He hummed, not denying it. That made her wonder how big of an appetite he could have. Haru's was legendary, and his food-stealing antics tended to overshadow Obaasan's not uncommon complaints against other thieving Daitengu (and Heir. And grandchildren).
"I guess we're both in for some ramen?"
She wrinkled her nose at the thought of eating ramen. She didn't have anything against it, but she was still traumatized by Shiori's attempt to cook it two days ago. Shiori may have been just as much a food lover as Haru was, but unlike him, she couldn't cook to save her life. In fact, letting Shiori near unprepared food was more likely to end someone's life.
They'd still probably die if they tried to take food from her, too. Really, there was no way to win when it came to Shiori and food.
Shin laughed at the face she made. "What's wrong with ramen?"
"Nothing," she said. "Unless Shii-chan's touched it."
He had the good grace to attempt to hide his flinch as he rubbed his stomach. "Yeah, my stomach still hasn't healed from that."
"It was really bad, wasn't it?"
"Kouta will gasp scandalously and hang me for saying it was, so let's pretend I never did."
She smiled impishly at that. "Isn't there anything else?"
She wondered why they hadn't thought to buy some groceries to make it through the night. In her defence, as they'd wandered down the aisles in the small supermarket they'd stopped at, she'd been a little distracted by the warm feeling in his chest at how domestic what they were doing was.
"We can take a look," he gestured and she stood, following him into the kitchen. She gave him a quick smile when he stood aside and held an arm out for her to explore the kitchen as she wished, as if he was showing her the way to a throne room than a kitchen. "This place hasn't been used in a while, though. Not sure if there's anything more here."
"Can I?" she asked.
At his nod, she walked into the kitchen on hesitant feet, looking around at all the gleaming surfaces and murmuring a quiet apology for the intrusion under her breath. He said that the apartment hadn't been used, but it looked like someone at least came in regularly to clean. Everything was practically spotless, and there was no dust settled anywhere.
The kitchen felt large, though she thought that might be because of there being no doors or walls keeping it separate from the living room. The counters were made of granite with flecks of white strewn about, and in the middle of the kitchen space was an island with eight stools with spindly legs situated around it. Pai pulled open the drawers, orienting herself with where the appliances were while she tried very hard not to blush when Shin leaned against the wall to her right, arms folded over his chest as he openly watched her move about.
One drawer was filled with knives sharpened to fine points, another with spoons that reflected back her ballooned face when she took them out of the drawer, and another with forks whose spikes reminded her of that one time Shiori threatened to stab Ryu with a fork when he played one of his meaner pranks on her. There weren't quite as many utensils as there were at Ayashi House, but this much could comfortably be of use to half a dozen people at once.
The cupboards and fridge were what yielded what she hoped she could whip into some sort of a meal. There was a packet of frozen peas in the fridge, which she immediately set out on the counter to thaw, along with five carrots. There was a pack of six eggs as well, which she warranted were enough for two people. After checking the expiry date on the peas and carefully sniffing the eggs, she was surprised to find that neither were out of date.
In the cupboards, she found a tin container half full of lentils and another with rice, opting for the rice as the beginnings of the thought for what they'd eat took root in her head. The lentils would be for breakfast, if they had time, she decided.
By the time she was done perusing every nook and cranny of the kitchen, there sat a small bottle of cold-pressed sunflower oil, salt, pepper, chilli powder, garlic butter, the eggs along with the peas, carrots, and rice, and, miraculously, an elegantly shaped little bottle of soy sauce. She must have looked demented when she found the soy sauce and given a little dreamy sigh as she hugged it to herself.
She twirled around to face Shin, a triumphant smile on her face as she held her hands out to the glory she'd laid out haphazardly on the countertop. Her heart started to pound when she caught the look of rapt fascination on his face as he watched her before he smiled at her.
He looked so handsome, standing there, leaning against the wall. The light from the kitchen and the shadows of the unlit corridor behind him played off his features perfectly, highlighting his sharp jawline, the high cheekbones. In such a homely setting, she was mildly surprised to find that the crimson eyes of his Kamigami state didn't look so out of place, either.
It didn't hurt that he wore a white short-sleeved shirt that showcased the tattoo of the dragon's tail winding down to his forearm, with a deep V-neck that just teased at the Daitengu tattoo on his chest, coupled with jeans that hung just right off his waist.
She wondered how she looked to him. She had decided to try something other than tights, and instead wore an ankle-length, colourful skirt that she liked how it swished around her legs when she walked, and – thanks to Shiori pointing out she needed to wander out of her comfort zones of baggy shirts sometimes – a plain black, sleeveless shirt that...it didn't exactly hug her body like a skin-tight swimsuit, but it certainly didn't hang off of her like she was used to.
Shiori had attempted to get Pai to wear heels, to make up for the height difference, as she'd put it. Pai flat-out refused; she was short, and the heels weren't going to make much of a difference, considering Shin was safely six feet tall. Shiori had pouted so much that Pai eventually relented to wearing the black kitten heels Shiori brought in to replace the six-inch monstrosity of heels Shiori had originally tried to get her to wear.
The fact that she agreed to walk straight out of her comfort zone was telling of how she couldn't stop thinking about how he saw her. Ever since they'd gotten together, she'd found herself concerned way too much about what she wore.
"Pai-chan, your face is really scary." Shiori's gloating voice drifted in like a bad smell.
"Shut up and help me make sure this skirt doesn't fall off, or so help me I will tell Obaasan that you sneak into the kitchen at exactly 11.34 P.M. almost every night."
Shiori hadn't even looked that frightened or offended with the blackmail. She was too far gone in 'Pai-chan's-finally-acting-like-a-girl' land.
Sometimes Pai just...didn't understand Shiori.
"I can make sort-of benihana rice from this," she told him, forcing Shiori's triumphant face from her mind. "The rice will be freshly cooked so it's not going to be fried, it should be steamed from the day before for that, but it's better than ramen, right?"
"Sounds good. You're like a little whirlwind, you know," he commented teasingly. "I have never seen soy sauce make anyone so happy."
She gave him a flat look. "Soy sauce makes everything better. Never question the soy sauce."
A huge grin broke out over his face at that as he languidly stood to attention, like a soldier in the military would, hand to his forehead in a salute. "Duly noted, ma'am. Never question the soy sauce."
She laughed, the band of nervous tension settled in her stomach uncoiling a little at their easy banter as she pattered about the drawers again, pulling out what she'd need to cook. There mightn't have been very much in terms of what they could eat, but at least there were plenty of kitchen utensils she could use.
As she moved around, Shin walked in to stand opposite her, separated by the island between them as he leaned his forearms on the counter. "Need any help?"
With a narrow-eyed look, she straightened and pointed the skillet she'd just pulled out at him. "Don't you dare."
Shin, to his credit, looked righteously offended. "I can cook."
"Obaasan said you burned everything in a soup once. How do you even do that?"
For one moment he looked like he was about to argue in his defence. He paused, and she had to stifle another laugh when he shrugged, not denying the atrocious crime.
"Can I at least watch?" he asked hopefully.
She gave him an odd look. "Won't you be bored?"
She always found it wearisome to idly stand by and watch the goings-on in the kitchen rather than actually cook herself. Ever since she was deemed old enough by her mother to actively take part in cooking the meals, she'd carefully watched and repeated every recipe her mother, or Obaasan or Yukiji, had ever taught her. Sometimes she tweaked a thing or two to make the meal specific to her own tastes, or to what she knew were the tastes of those she cooked for.
Which reminded her...what kind of food did Shin like? He ate what meals were prepared at Ayashi House, same as everyone, but his face never gave away whether he actually enjoyed the food or not. She had to consciously ignore the pang in her chest when she thought of all the things she still had yet to discover about him, and the fact that she might not have much longer to do so.
He grinned coyly at her, unknowingly halting the brooding track her thoughts were about to run down on. "I like watching you."
I like watching you.
I like watching you.
I like watching you.
pai.exe has ceased functioning.
She just about burst into flames at the unabashed confession, her eyes going wide as she attempted to stammer out any kind of response, in vain, breath halting in her chest. His grin grew as he stepped round the island and placed a quick, chaste kiss at her temple. She could feel his smile against her skin before he stepped back and playfully bumped his nose to hers.
"Hey," he murmured softly. "Don't forget to breathe."
Maybe don't do stupid cute things like that and I won't forget to. She gulped as she turned her head slightly to look at him. He was close – so close. Just like he got when he...
"If you're going to watch," she said, proud that the tremor in her heart didn't make its way into her voice. "Sit on that stool and don't touch anything unless I tell you to." She pointed the skillet at one of the stools around the island. "Deal?"
"Mhm," he hummed as he pressed his lips to her hair again, taking a deep breath. "Deal."
She closed her eyes at the sensation, goosebumps riding over her skin at how close he was, his heat warming her chilly skin. Her fingers loosened around the handle of the skillet as a little frown of concentration worked her brow low when he stepped away, giving her the space she needed to begin cooking.
Why won't he...
She was afraid. She was so afraid of asking him, because what if she thought was right?
She forced herself away from the thought. She wasn't going to think like that. She just had to focus on one thing at a time, on the simple things, and right now, they were both hungry.
Preparing the makeshift benihana rice came along quickly. That in itself was a miraculous feat, considering she was a bundle of nervous tension thanks to Shin sticking true to what he said he would do. He sat where she told him to and only moved when she asked him to give her this bowl or that knife, and otherwise kept his gaze fixed on her the whole time.
It was only thanks to muscle memory that she didn't chop off a finger or three.
While she made their meal, they talked about Aihara's questions that day. She dodged anything personal, like what she felt about her impending death, a silent fact that hung over them like an executioner's axe while her neck rested on the chopping block. She could tell Shin knew what she was doing, avoiding talking too intimately about what she was, what one of her parents was, but he never pushed her.
In thirty minutes the food was ready. They ate the meal in comfortable silence at the island in the kitchen, afterwards only interrupted when Kouta called Shin while she washed the dishes, keeping him occupied for as long as it took her to do the chore. He was still talking when she decided to go to the bathroom and brush her teeth, splashing water on her heated face one too many times when she looked at the large, impossibly comfortable-looking bed in the room.
They hadn't yet talked about sleeping arrangements for the night.
Shiori called only a few minutes after she was done, to remind her to watch the drama the two had been keeping up with since it started airing – and to not so subtly make one too many comments on the fact that Pai and Shin were alone together, as if the fact needed constant repeating.
When Shiori coyly added that at least it was a 'safe house' and not a love hotel, Pai promptly hung up.
It was only when they settled in to watch the drama (Shiori would actually bludgeon her if she missed the episode) that the full-force of the destructive power of her own treacherous thoughts hit her. It didn't take Shin longer than a minute to realize something was wrong after she stood up to 'stretch her muscles' for the third time since they'd sat down.
When she stood again, he followed her into the kitchen, slippered feet padding so quietly behind her that she didn't notice immediately. Her shoulders tensed when she did notice, but she didn't stop until she set herself on one of the stools around the island with a bottle of water clutched in a death grip, the dramatic music from the TV playing in the background. It only seemed to emphasize the large silence between them.
"I'm just walking around," she said, giving him a pass at a reassuring smile. "Too much energy."
He shot her a narrow-eyed look as he sat on the stool next to her. "You sure about that?"
She nodded too happily, twisting the lid on the bottle and taking a large gulp of water. "Yep."
"Okay," he said. "Mind if I join you?"
You're actually supposed to be enjoying the drama, not watching me be an idiot, she thought as she nodded tentatively.
She felt helplessly awkward as she sat and stared at tap of the sink, a single drop of water plopping out every thirteen seconds. Her leg bounced up and down with skittish vigour on the little bar of steel that connected the legs of the stool together. She only managed to keep seated for another thirty seconds before she was moving to stand and walk around the apartment again.
"Butterfly," he caught her wrist in his hand as she half-stood. "Come on, stop. What's wrong?"
She looked back at him warily, frozen for a second, unsure of what to do. It was eating her alive, these worries and circling thoughts that pinched her at every turn. The question she wanted to ask haunted her every step, always hovering at the back of her mind no matter what she was doing, yet she couldn't force the words out of her throat.
She swallowed as she nodded uneasily and sat down on the edge of the stool, like a bird ready to take flight at the slightest hint of danger. She held on to the bottle of water so tight that, for one hysterical moment, she thought she'd squeeze it enough to have the lid flying off and a jet of water splashing all over her. Nothing of the like happened, of course.
It would provide a welcome distraction. Maybe not pleasant, but welcome nonetheless.
Shin twisted his stool around to face her fully again, one forearm braced on the island's table top, his other on his knee. The TV droned on as background noise, whatever ludicrous plot twists playing out on the screen forgotten as he focused his full and undivided attention on her. Shin reached over and touched her chin with one finger, turning her head so that she was facing him.
She dropped her eyes down to the little bit of exposed chest she could see from the V of his sweater. She pursed her lips, trying to think of how to divert that intense attention away from her. If they were anywhere else, she'd use other people to deflect him, but here...it was just the two of them. There were no distractions like this. It was just the two of them here, in this big, fancy, empty penthouse.
Just them.
Her fingers tightened around the bottle.
"Shin?" she asked, thinking of the only thing she could in the situation. "Are you okay?"
"Are you okay?" he threw her own question right back at her. "What's wrong, butterfly?"
I want you to kiss me. Why won't you?
The thought came in desperation, unbidden. She swallowed again, tearing the question out of her mind and stomping on it so that it wouldn't sneak out of her mouth without her noticing.
"What do you mean?"
He lifted his hand and chucked her chin, forcing her to look up at him. He caught her eyes with a steel gaze, and she held her breath. "I'm not an idiot, Pai, and I'm not blind. Something's bothering you."
"There's lots of something's to choose from," she muttered under her breath. She shrugged, trying to play for nonchalance. It was barely there, but she worried that he'd hear the faint tremble in her voice. "You pick."
That drew a half-smile from him that lasted a second before dropping away. "One thing in particular is, right now."
She opened her mouth to deny it, and then stopped. She thought about actually saying the words, giving voice to her concerns, and her heart kicked into gear. She swallowed, making to stand up and walk up and down again to try ease the restless tension in her muscles. Or, rather, to avoid talking for however much longer she could manage.
"Oh, no, no," Shin muttered.
Before she could walk away from him, he wound his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, right between his legs, crossing his ankles behind her so that she couldn't run. Her eyes blew wide open, startled with a deer-in-the-headlights look, and her hands hovered uncertainly close for a few seconds before she gave up and rested them in small fists at his waist.
He ran a hand down the open mass of her hair arranged over her shoulder, fingers lacing through it. She fluttered at his touch, a ruddy tinge rising in her cheeks as she closed her eyes and tried to pretend she wasn't blushing hard enough to light the penthouse on fire.
He tugged her hair gently and, almost unwillingly, she opened her eyes again. The look in his eyes as he gazed at her, so openly pleading with her, lights glimmering in his eyes and making him look wholly unreal, stole her breath.
"You know you can trust me, Pai, you know you can." He said quietly. "I can tell that whatever is bothering you, it's about us. Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."
Her eyes dancing from one red iris to the other. She lifted her hands, wanting to run them through her hair, pull at the strands to try and ground her so her nerves didn't send her flying, but she paused and dropped her hands from her hair, her forearms lining up with his. The touch of his skin to hers did the same; it grounded her, as much as touching him still always had her aflutter.
Her lips twitched, and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she dropped her eyes down to the front of his sweater.
"Is it something I did?" he asked when she said nothing, looking searchingly at her, trying to catch her eyes. She shook her head mutely, alarmed that he would think that but still trying to find her words. "What's wrong, butterfly? Tell me, please."
He sounded so lost. So confused, thrown at sea with no boat or paddle in sight to help him. He didn't know why she was being like this, and her silence...it wasn't helping them.
"Are..." she paused, staring unseeingly as she traced her fingers over the fine hairs of his arms. She steeled her nerves and thought, Just get it out and come what may I'll deal with it it'll be fine it'll be – "Are we – okay?"
That – that was a poor attempt, but it was one anyway. At least she'd started. Beginning was always hard.
He frowned, perplexed – understandably so. "What do you mean?"
Nervous tension ebbed from her as she curled her hands to fists, abruptly aware that she had been petting him. Roses burned in her cheeks, but she drove on. Perhaps it was something in his eyes, the way he looked at her grimly, that told her he wasn't going to give up until she answered him.
She'd already started. Beginning was always hard. She just had to continue.
"Why – um." she licked her lips nervously. "Why haven't – you – you haven't kissed me. Since...since I told you what – since – you haven't kissed me."
Lies. Continuing wasn't any easier.
She finally lifted her eyes to meet his, and blinked, startled, when she felt tears swim in her gaze. Almost as if noticing them gave them some sort of hold over her, she felt the lump of worry in her throat expand until her breath caught and she couldn't stop herself speaking.
"I'm sorry," she started, a hiccup hidden in her voice. "I'm sorry I couldn't – I couldn't s – stop him, but I tried," he had to believe that she'd tried, she'd tried and done everything she could to stop it in the moment until every bit of life just suddenly left her and she couldn't move but "I didn't just – "
"Shit, Pai, no," she glanced up, startled by the vehement denial as he shook his head. "How could you even think that? Pai – "
Looking like he was at a complete loss for words, he reached out and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her hair, one hand pressing into her back and holding her so close to him. She stood frozen for a moment, , confused at what was happening he was – he was holding on to her like she was an anchor, but – but she'd been so sure that he was turned off from her because of what had happened, what tainted her.
Her hands wavered unsurely around her before she relaxed and wound her arms around his neck. Her fingers shook when she pushed them through his hair, trying to reassure him even though she wasn't entirely sure what was happening, trying to keep the confused tears at bay with quiet hitches in her breath as silence enveloped them.
For a long time, that's all there was. She didn't know how long they held each other in this impossible embrace, and though she wanted to know what was wrong, why Shin had reacted like this, she couldn't bring herself to break the quiet moment. She liked the feel of his strong arms around her waist, holding her so gently and fiercely. She liked the feel of his breath tickling the hair on her neck as she held him just as close, running her fingers through the silk of his hair.
She liked just being with him. She didn't want it to end. She didn't want a past she barely remembered clearly to ruin them.
Her heart leaped to her throat when Shin sat up – but instead of pulling away, he cupped her face in his hands, fixing his eyes on hers so that she didn't have anywhere else to look but at him. "Don't you ever think what happened is your fault. Do you understand?"
"Wasn't it?" her lips twisted, trying to keep the pathetic sound of her tears out of her voice. "Our cells are soundproof, but I was trained. I was trained to fight, and I couldn't – I couldn't even – "
He shook his head. "No. I don't blame you for what happened. I blame that fucking bastard, and if he wasn't already dead, I'd make him pay for what he did to you. Pai, it wasn't your fault."
"But – " she quickly reached up to swipe away the tear leaking out of the corner of her eye. He only gave her those two seconds to do so before he held her face in his hands again. "But then why haven't you..."
He sighed and leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers and closing his eyes as his hands dropped to her tense shoulders. She saw his own shoulders sag as if under a weight, and her frown deepened.
"I was scared," he whispered.
Her breath halted, and she went still, eyes widening. "What?" she asked, stunned.
Shin didn't open his eyes, remaining as he was, as he said, "You've spent the last year avoiding people because of what he did to you – and that's before you started remembering. You didn't even really remember what happened to you, but a part of you did, even then. I was scared of pushing you beyond your limits." He lifted his head to look at her then, and she could only stare in baffled awe at the open plea in his eyes. "Please, Pai, you have to believe me. I just – I didn't want to hurt you. I was scared of pushing you, of hurting you, when that's the last thing I want."
"Shin..." she whispered, but said nothing more. She had no idea how to react to this. It was the complete opposite of what she'd so firmly thought was his reason for not touching her like he had in the beginning.
"I didn't kiss you because I suddenly stopped loving you after you told me what happened," he said slowly. "It's because I love you that I didn't. I didn't want you to feel like you had to."
"Are you serious?" she asked quietly, her breath shaky. "This – this isn't a joke, right? You're being serious?"
He nodded, sitting up and cradling her face in his hands again. "Pai, I always want to kiss you. When you have that little adorable frown," he reached up to trace her brow with a tentative thumb, smoothing out the confused wrinkle there. "When you're so focused on something with your beautiful eyes that you don't notice anything else," she closed her eyes as he brushed his fingers lightly over her dark lashes.
Her heart pounded fiercely at how vulnerable she was right now, at how much she trusted him to let herself be like this in front of him. How could – didn't he see that? Didn't he see how much she trusted him not to hurt her, after how hard he'd tried before to not do that? Didn't he see that she trusted him to step back if she said it was too much?
Didn't he see that she trusted him?
"When you let me see you smile when so few others do..." he touched her lips reverently, as he would if she was a goddess. Her eyes flickered open, wide and disbelieving and...hopeful.
"I didn't because I was afraid of making that frown permanent." He said. "I was afraid your eyes would look at me with fear instead of the trust I see in them now. I didn't want you to look at me the way you did when you told me what he did. I didn't want you to tell me you couldn't be with me because I make you afraid."
Pai shook her head roughly, tipping back. Slowly, afraid he would refuse her, she held her hands to his face, thumbs touching the grey shadows nested under his eyes. He didn't pull away. He just continued to look at her like she mattered, so much, to him.
"It's true," she said slowly. She felt him stop breathing and rushed to continue, "I don't like it when people touch me. It just, it feels too off, even when it's Shii-chan. But with you..." she flushed. "I love it when it's you. It's because it's you. I love it when you touch me."
He blinked at her, face going blank. He froze like he was made of stone, eyes jumping from hers, to her nose, her lips, her hair, the dark slashes of her brows. A small smile tugged her lips at the utter confusion scrawled on his face in defined lines. He looked so lost, so baffled. It was adorable.
Strong, amazing, thoughtful, badass Shin – those were just a few words she usually thought of with him. Cute? Yes, cute definitely applied here. Especially because she couldn't believe how quickly her fears dissipated once she knew why he hadn't kissed her for so long.
It was like one second, the tap of anxiety and worry was turned on to full power, churning out endless thoughts that swirled like a thick soup in her mind. The next, the tap was off, and all was right again, even if everything else that hounded them was not.
She leaned forward and lightly touched the tip of her nose to his. "You're the only one I'm comfortable with enough for that because I trust you, Shin. If I didn't, I'd have broken your thumb a long time ago." She chuckled softly. "I know how to do that, you know. Kaede-san showed me."
"What has that man been teaching you," he grumbled, but he was smiling, too. "I thought you were training in self-defence with him?"
"How to break thumbs is useful to know."
"If you're a mobster, yes."
"Says the one who was part of the 'Yakuza Ayakashi'. Which, by the way," she added, as if it wasn't clear enough, "Sounds more dangerous than just your regular garden-variety yakuza."
He laughed at that, a full sound right in front of her, unmarred by the weight she'd dumped on his shoulders by telling him all her secrets, by unburdening her whole soul before him. A light giggle breezed out of her at the sound, and she committed his laugh to memory, memorized every sway of it as it rose and fell with a smile – a shy smile, Shin's shy, I'm dying – lighting his face as he looked back at her.
"And, you're not just saying that?" he asked cautiously.
Her smile turned wobbly. All this time, they'd been fooling themselves into thinking the completely wrong thing about each other. All he'd wanted to do was kiss her and comfort her, yet he'd been afraid to hurt her. All she'd wanted to do was kiss him and be with him, yet she'd feared that he'd been put off by her past, by the fingers it reached out to taint her present with.
You two are both right where you're wrong, Kuniumi had said. Funny, isn't it?
Very funny, she thought now, still swimming in the drunken relief brought on by the fact that Shin didn't hate her. He didn't kiss her because he was disgusted with her, but because he didn't want to hurt her, didn't want to push her too far out of her boundaries and risk ruining what they had, what they were slowly building together.
He doesn't hate me.
She nodded, and surprised them both by taking the initiative for the first time; she leaned forward and kissed him.
She was nowhere near as confident as he, much to her embarrassment. But that didn't matter, not to him. All he cared about was that she made the first move; she showed him that she meant what she said and her words were not empty reassurances.
She timidly pressed her mouth to his, and Shin didn't waste a second. He pushed back and fully captured her lips with his. He kissed her the way she would imagine a man from the desert would drink water after days of deprivation. He kissed her as if he was starving for her.
That drove her half wild, giddy with all the myriad of sensations he could make her feel with just the touch of his lips to hers. His arms dropped to wind around her waist, holding her tight against his hard body. With one hand on the small of her back, he pushed her closer to him, their lips melding.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled, his lips grazing hers as he pulled back just a little to look at her, pupils dilated. Under her palm resting over his chest, she could feel the rapid tattoo of his heart. It astounded her that his heart beat as hard and fast as hers was. "I'm sorry for hurting you."
She shook her head. "You didn't." She smiled coyly and added, "Can we do that again?"
He was only too happy to oblige, but with an unexpected twist that left her breathless. Before she could make a sound, Shin rose and gripped her under her thighs, effortlessly hoisting her up against him. She was pressed close to him as she lifted her legs and hooked them around his waist, her skirt thankfully long and wide enough that it didn't stop her.
He tipped his head back to marvel at her hovering over him, breath ragged with her cheeks burning roses, grinning in shy exhilaration down at him. The stools squeaked on the floor as he twisted around and set her on the table top, hands dropping to curl possessively around her hips. They were at perfect eye-level now, and she could see all the love he had for her in his eyes. Love, and something darker she couldn't quite pinpoint.
"Next time," he said, fixing a hot gaze on hers. "We talk, instead of keeping quiet. We'll just drive ourselves mad otherwise. Deal?"
She nodded eagerly a mere second before his lips claimed her again. She kissed him slowly, shy, uncertain. He kissed her deeply, hard, no holds barred, yet his lips were still soft against hers, still letting her choose where they went with it. That ability to choose, the fact that he always let her have that, that he recognized her right to say no if it got too much, made her fall for him all over again.
She lost herself to him, to the feel of his hands on her waist, the unknown coiling of something in her abdomen at the touch, to the softness of Shin's hair flowing over her fingers. A little sound, caught somewhere between a gasp and a moan, escaped her as his tongue swept over her bottom lip, and when her lips parted, inviting, he touched hers and claimed her, tracing her tongue and making her hands fist in his shirt in a desperate last-ditch effort to control herself. Fierce glee had her heart bursting at the pleasured growl she felt reverberate from Shin's chest when she pushed her fingers through the long dark locks of his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp.
Even though Shin took the lead, not as sure of herself the way he was, she found herself kissing him with the same increasing need for more that he did, as best she knew how to. It felt like years since she'd last had this intoxicating swarm of dragons' roars in her stomach. They hadn't even done this so often since that first time on her birthday, just over a week ago, but she was already so addicted to him.
She was floored by how much she'd missed this, with Shin. Before, she'd always looked at kissing as some weird thing that she could never truly see herself doing. The idea of it was nice, romantic, even, but the actual doing of it was something she shied away from, unnerved because of how foreign it seemed.
But this. This, with Shin, the way he so easily drew out quiet gasp and little whines from her. This, with Shin, the small rumble of an almost-purr she drew from him when her nails scratched lightly at his nape, tugging and pulling at his hair, her skirt hiking up her thighs as he gently nudged her legs apart so that he could fit between them like he was made to be there, her legs tightening around his waist, ankles locking at the small of his back.
This, with Shin, the war drums of their hearts beating against each other...this, she would never get used to. This, she would always crave, always want more of, always be greedy for everything he gave her, always want to make him feel the way he did her.
The shrill ring of Shin's phone broke them apart, unfairly soon. She jumped at the sound, heart hammering like a runaway train. Shin leaned back just enough so that he could rest his forehead against hers, both of them breathing hard as he reached back and pulled his phone out of his pocket, resting it on her thigh. She was looking at it upside down, but it wasn't hard to make out the picture of Kouta grinning goofily at the camera, his name flashing at the top of the screen.
He scowled at it like it had personally offended his ancestors. "I'm going to kill him," he grumbled, looking up at her with a heavy sigh. "He has the absolute worst timing possible. How does he do it?"
She laughed, tremulous as she tried to catch her breath while petting the hair at his nape. "You should get it."
"Hm," he bumped her nose again, kissing her on the corner of her mouth. "I should."
She had to keep herself still as a statue to stop from turning her head just so and kissing him again, though she couldn't quite keep the wide smile from her face. Her mind still whirled dizzyingly at the intoxicating way he'd just kissed her, and she was almost shocked at how much she wanted him to do it again, to take it over that step she'd felt him hovering at before he pulled away.
But he did need to answer the call – what if it was important?
She couldn't help grinning wider, though, when he heaved another sigh in defeat. He glanced down at the watch strapped to her wrist, then looked up and nodded at the bedroom door.
"It's late," he told her as she looked at her watch. She stared dumbly at it. It was almost midnight already. Where had the hours gone?
"You should go get some sleep." He continued. "We've got an early start tomorrow, if we don't want Shiori-hime interrogating us on why we're late."
She blushed as she thought that that would be just like Shiori. She could see every day that Shiori was trying her hardest to keep from blurting out every question she had regarding how her and Shin's relationship blossomed, but Shiori – at least with this – had the good courtesy to wait for Pai to speak first.
Pai was certain that wouldn't last for very long. Aoi had looked genuinely traumatized when she told Pai about how Shiori shovelled an avalanche of questions about her own relationship's start with Shuusei.
She nodded, going red-faced when his hands went to her waist again, lifting her and smoothly setting her on her feet again. Before she walked away, he drew her in for another kiss that left her smiling giddily against his lips before he turned her around by the shoulders in the direction of the door.
A full-blow grin made its way on her face when she heard him answer Kouta's call with a threatening, "If there isn't a life-or-death situation that made you call, I will fucking end you, you goddamned flightless bird."
She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. She pushed open the bedroom door, and was just about to enter when she paused on the threshold. She looked at Shin to see him switching the TV off as he listened to what Kouta was saying. She took it as a good sign that he didn't have on that hard look he got when something bad happened. He looked faintly amused by whatever Kouta was saying, actually.
Shin noticed her hesitation and looked at her, pulling the phone from his ear and putting it against his shoulder to muffle it so that Kouta wouldn't hear what he said.
"Something wrong?" he asked.
She shook her head quickly. "No, I just...uh, will...will you come?"
He watched her with an inscrutable look in his eye for a long second. She wondered if he could see her question for what it really was. She wondered what he was thinking behind those eyes that showed her he trusted her, that face that could be so open and closed at the same time.
He glanced at the couch they'd been sitting on only a few minutes ago. At the door she stood in front of, the bed lying within, unslept in for too long.
There were three bedrooms in this penthouse.
He focused on her again. "I'll see you there in a minute."
Pai held her breath for another second as she nodded and walked into the spacious master bedroom, closing the door behind her. She leaned against it and tipped her head back, a quiet sigh flowing from her as she closed her eyes and smiled.
They were okay. They really were okay.
She knew it was foolish to believe the peaceful fantasy they were entrapped in now would last. Too much was happening, too many things were changing. But here, in this apartment she didn't feel quite comfortable in without Shin, here they could exist in a little bubble no one else could enter. Here, they could simply be with each other and forget that the rest of the world existed outside, living and laughing and crying and dying.
She tiptoed her way over to the bed, hovering hesitantly. Shin was going to sleep in the bed with her – the command centre in her brain was scrambling like mad to process that, alarms screeching, ABORT, ABORT. NERVES SHORT-CIRCUITING. TOTAL DESTRUCTION IMMINENT – but which side? She liked to sleep on the left, even when it was just a single futon. On the roof at home, when she fell asleep in his arms, she always awoke to find her head pillowed on his left arm as he looked up at the slowly brightening sky or, like she'd caught a few times, watching her wake up.
Gulping nervously, she slid under the heavenly checkered green-and-white blanket of the bed, laying her head down on the soft pillow on the left. She pushed her hair to the side over her chest, lying on her back playing with the ends of her hair as looked up at the dark ceiling high above her. The large window, glass cleaned to sparkling like all the others in the apartment (seriously, who cleaned these windows? Who cleaned the apartment, actually?), was behind her head.
She listened to the sound of Shin's voice drifting through the closed door, talking quietly, and the sounds of the city outside. She tipped her head back when the clatter of pebbles striking the window grew louder, and saw that it had started to rain. The drops of water streaked down the window as the rain lashed at the building, unable to drench those within protected by walls of stone.
It all sounded so far away. Even Kuniumi seemed far, presence swirling in relative quietude, keeping herself at a distance, allowing Pai this one reprieve of normalcy. She felt like she was floating in the calm waters of the ocean, everything around her muted, a full moon hovering above her and casting pale crystalline light on the water.
She'd almost dropped off to sleep when she heard the quiet click of the bedroom door shutting. She squinted through the darkness, just able to see Shin as he made his way over. The bed dipped when he sat on it, leaning over to place a kiss to her temple.
"Sleeping yet?" he asked quietly.
She shook her head, smiling drowsily. "A'most."
He hummed a little, and in her half-asleep state she didn't think twice as she pulled open the blanket so that he could get under. She caught him smirking at that, and she remembered that he didn't actually need a blanket for warmth. She was about to say something in defence, but before she could Shin's arms wound around her waist as he lay back on the pillow, pulling her to him.
For a second, she had no idea what she was supposed to do. Where should she put her hands? What about her legs? Should she move them, curl them up against her side so she wouldn't take too much space on the bed? And what about her head, resting on his arm now. She wanted to stay as she was, but what if he got uncomfortable? He was Kamigami now, but that didn't mean he didn't get pins and needles, or muscle cramps, or –
"You're thinking too much," he chuckled as he looked down at the little frown on her face.
She looked up at him, blushing sheepishly. "I – I've never done this before." She didn't know what to name it, so she gestured at the little space between them and repeated helplessly, "This."
Another low laugh rumbled through his chest. She could feel it where her hand rested right over his heart. "Relax," he murmured against her hair. "We're just sleeping."
"I know," she tried vainly to keep herself calm when she was sure she was about to spontaneously combust. "Are – are you comfortable?"
He pressed his lips to her forehead, and she closed her eyes in contentment. "I'm more than comfortable. Goodnight, butterfly."
"'G'nigh'," she mumbled, drifting.
She tilted her head up, questioning. He answered, kissing her slow and languid, a goodnight of touch to mirror his goodnight of words.
She shifted a little closer to him, laying her head over his chest, listening to the lullaby of his heart beating as fast as hers was, slowing. Their legs were tangled together, breath mingling, bodies flush against each other. She felt so calm and at ease,as he ran his fingers gently through the long white locks of her hair, over and over again, soothing her to sleep. She wouldn't mind doing this every night.
She wasn't sure, already floating far into that strange beyond place where her body existed in limbo as she fell asleep, but she thought she heard him whisper to her, "I will always love you, no matter what you are."