In spite of herself, Arashi's mind had told her to stay with him. When she awakens the next morning, Sorata's hand curled around her hip, her mind tells her to run. As her hand curls lightly around his wrist to lay it flat on the sheets, it already feels awkward, light, like it has lost feeling and the resilience of human flesh.
Sorata stirs, and for an instant her heart stops beating; his breathing becomes even and so does hers, hands weakly curling into the rough, starched cloth of the infirmary bed's sheets as she lifts flesh that feels unlike her own to cover her breasts. He remains still, and she smiles. Arashi's lips barely brush Sorata's forehead as she leans down to kiss him, and she supposes that this is a good thing if he's sleeping lightly. She pulls away, feeling bitter with regret, but rebelling against the guilt in her mind that tells her she has taken his life.
She stares at her palm, and she wills her power to manifest. When her skin is left pale and unscathed, she knows the Priestess of Ise is gone and only she, Arashi, exists now. She is now useless as a Dragon of Heaven; all hope she had of protecting Sorata falls and breaks in slow motion. The last of her resolve is gone, and all that is left is to grasp at the shattered pieces.
Sorata doesn't stir as she gathers her clothes, and for this she is glad. He hadn't questioned her the night before; she hadn't felt the need to explain herself then, and she doesn't feel the need to explain herself now, even to her own conscience. Her fingers move to knot the laces in her shoes clumsily, and for a fleeting moment she is tempted to compare her situation to Sorata's, but dismisses this as selfish martyrdom on her behalf.
Arashi turns to face the bed again, delicately pulls the sheets back up to Sorata's chest, and then leans over him again, feeling the moment stretch forever and onwards as the distance between them narrows. She pulls away when she can feel her own breath warm her lips, feeling almost guilty, almost hating him for dedicating himself to her in death but not in life. She needs reassurance right now, more than she needs the warmth of another, regardless of how much Sorata deserves it.
When Arashi leaves the room, she doesn't look back. The echo of the lock clicking shut behind her seems to ring in her ears. She knows now what she needs to do, but still feels lost.
And so she runs, knowing that Sorata will follow regardless.
But would he find her when all was said and done?
END