Disclaimer: ソウルイーター © Okubo Atsushi
She watches the darkness seep into the atmosphere like ink in water, watches the blood of both allies and enemies splatter and blend, watches as the war is lost. Feels her weapon transform back into human form against her will and his arms around her in a protective embrace. Hears him whisper into her ears the instant before the warmth of his touch is gone, feels her throat constrict in pain as she screams his name, over and over again until her voice is gone and the darkness is up to her knees, her waist --
He's there, shaking her awake with a firm grip on her shoulders -- hands fitting on her body like they're meant to be there -- hard enough to bring her back to reality but gentle enough not to hurt. There are tears in her eyes and down her cheeks -- this she knows and tries very hard to hide them by bringing the backs of her hands to her face, but he doesn't let her. A simple switch from her heaving shoulders to a loose encirclement of her wrists is all it takes. With nothing to defend her crumbling pride, she turns her face away.
"I'm here," is all he says, when he should be saying things like it's all right now or don't cry, it was just a bad dream, but the single sentence is surprisingly calming. She stops thrashing about after a while, but the tears just keep coming and the roaring in her ears isn't stopping. She doesn't know how he knows this, but he just does because he's him -- releasing her wrists, he places his hands on her cheeks and tilts her head upwards, albeit gently.
"I'm here," he repeats with a certain sort of conviction that can only belong to him. She nods, a little awkward. Satisfied with her response, he turns to leave the room, leaving the night-light on in case she gets nightmares again -- or so she thinks, until she feels the other side of her bed sink down a little from his weight.
"W-what are you doing, idiot?!" she exclaims, her previous anxiety almost completely dissipated as she tries to sit up and chase him off. Unfortunately, the arm on her waist keeps her lying down, and when she turns around to give him a piece of her mind, she is met with an exasperated expression on his face. "Shut up and go to sleep," he mutters, but not unkindly.
She frowns at him in annoyance, but is too tired to argue. Besides, she's secretly appeased by his presence, his warmth. Closing her eyes, she listens to his rhythmic breathing, and finds herself drifting off to sleep once again.
There are no more bad dreams, for that night.