His Heart's Tendon
When Miharu first saw Yoite bleeding, he was shaken, though not entirely consumed with fear. Physical wounds could be dealt with, and although they were currently in a defenseless state, they weren't entirely without hope. There was a chance that the battle could be drawn elsewhere, and they could find a way…
Then, Miharu saw Yoite's eyes.
Within an instant, the weight in his arms became so heavy, and though the blood flowed slowly, it all of a sudden became so much more precious. With that one look, Miharu realized just how vulnerable Yoite truly was. For the longest time, he had thought of him as a stone wall that was as apathetic as Miharu painted himself to be. Now, his entire frame was so fragile and powerless in Miharu's hands, he thought he might break him from holding on too tightly.
There was a definite fear in Yoite; a raw and utterly human fear in the way his weakened limbs trembled and how his eyes widened despite being clouded over in pain. A faint heartbeat tick tick ticked against Miharu's body, making his own heart sink deeper and deeper with every passing second. With quivering lips and a tedious intake of breath, Yoite's mask cracked open, splitting along the dark line of his mouth.
"Miharu… I don't want to die."
The words struck him down like the arrow lodged in Achilles' heel. Miharu did not hear as much as he felt the scream rip out of his throat, tearing apart any defenses that he had left. The walls came crumbling down, and Miharu's arms crumbled before Yoite as they fell into an embrace, supporting the ruins of feigned strength. His fingers laced into the scarf that he had persistently wrapped around him hours before, trying to find something anything to tie them together.
Yoite had said he wanted to disappear, and Miharu complied because it was the best decision at the time.
Yoite had said he did not want to die, and despite how long and hard the battle had been fought, Miharu cared.