I can't believe it took me this long to write something for +Anima. it's one of my favorite mangas ever.


It's been so long ago, it almost feels like a dream.

That's what Nana thinks sometimes.

Everything that happened, all the things that they went through, fade away into a muddled string of memories and if she closes her eyes, breathes in the faint smell of burning wood in the fireplace and fresh bread waiting on the table, maybe she can imagine they didn't happen at all.

It's raining, lightning cracks open the sky, streams of water run down outside and she presses her hand against the window pane to feel the cold beyond. She can see her own eyes reflected back at her in the glass, it's pitch black outside and she only needs to look and know it wasn't really a dream, was it?

She remembers her father on nights like this. She can hear his hurried footsteps, his angry snarls as he chases her, fear gripping her throat like a vice, as if it were just yesterday. And Nana knows in her deepest thoughts that she will never forget that. It's as much part of her as the mark and the ears and the wings are, perhaps even more so.

They learned the hard way that it doesn't help, running away from what you are

She notices it in her friends as well. No, more than friends, she reminds herself. Family. Calling them anything else would be an insult to the bond they've come to share.

Husky becomes wary, withdrawn. More than he normally is anyway. He isn't scared so much as on edge, foot tapping endlessly against the wooden floorboards and she would try and comfort him but has learned the hard way that would only make things worse. He doesn't like water and he doesn't like rain and sometimes he just has to be able to not talk about that out loud.

Cooro too becomes silent and still in a way very unlike him. The storms of days past have left their scars on him, not visible ones but deep inside him somewhere nobody can see. He stares at the fire, dark eyes drawn towards the flames as if hypnotized, and Nana knows he is remembering them, and the regrets they left him. And how much they hurt.

And Senri. He is pretty much the way he always is. It's hard to tell. Nana can't read him at all, not even after years and she has taken peace with the knowledge she probably never will be able to. But when their eyes meet he smiles, thinly, in the way he often does lately and it feels a bit like coming home.

She stands up, leaves her place at the window and sits closer to the fire. Picks up the needle and thread she deserted their earlier and the silence isn't broken by anything but the pouring rain and distant rumble of thunder.

But it's warm and cozy and dinner is almost ready. And the storm can't touch the four of them anymore.


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