Through a dark haze, blood is spattered on concrete rubble stretching on for miles and bodies litter the ground. One with a thick head of autumn red hair. A black cloak lies at her feet. Reaching down, her hands drape themselves over the soaked fabric. A bright light like a bomb explodes before her eyes and a Japanese woman stands in front of her holding a sword, its sharp edge flying inevitably towards her head. Death. She makes to scream but finds herself choked by fear. A cold paralysis grips her limbs.
Lilith gasps, sitting up in bed, her muscles clenched. Her hand reaches up to her face to find wet tears at the corners of her eyes. Slowly, shaking, she gets out of bed. Feeling the floor with her bare feet. She hobbles over to the bathroom, tripping over the wood notch and falls inside, her knees hitting the cold, hard tile and pain rushes through her legs. "Ow," she gasps then holds her breath and turns to look over her at the other bed, hoping she wasn't too loud.
Her body continues to shake and her gasps become sobs as she sits on the cold, unforgiving floor. The memories of her dream still fresh as a knife in her mind.
Something's wrong, I think to myself half asleep. I can hear the weeping of a young woman and find myself unable to fall back to sleep.
Lilith. I recall we had gotten a room together. I was supposed to be watching over her as I promised Toma I would. But where is she? My hand comes up to push the hair away from my face. My white tank top is wrinkled from sleeping. That's definitely her voice I hear. Damn. I get out of bed and walk carefully, making my way over to the fragile sound, trying not to startle her. It seems to be coming from the bathroom. "Lilith?" I ask, reaching around the doorway and looking in. She sits on her knees, her hands nudging her eyes, covering her face. I reach my hand out to her but pull back hesitantly. I've never been good at comforting people. "Did you have a nightmare?"
"How… did you know?" she says between sobs. I kneel down next to her.
"We all get them sometimes, don't let it bother you too much," I offer warmly.
"I saw…" sob, "you were dead…" sob…
She was dreaming about me? I'm rather uncomfortable knowing I'm in someone's thoughts in such a gruesome way, but I hesitantly take her around the shoulders and pull her closer to me. "It's okay. It was just a dream. I'm right here. Everything will be alright." If it weren't for Index, I think to myself wryly, I probably would have never learned to do this sort of thing.
"Really?" she looks up at me with vulnerable eyes. She is indeed too much like Index. All those years ago, I used to be Index's guardian instead of Toma and when she was afraid, I learned to comfort her the way I am now. But that was a long time ago and my desire to be here for the girl in front of me is growing. I ponder these strange emotions. Why is it I decided to save this girl instead of handing her over to the church like I should have?
"But how do you know that?!" she wails, distrustful of my help. "Those people could attack tomorrow! Or right now if they wanted to! And there's nothing I can do to stop them!" Her voice squeaks and she breaks down again. Her head falls lower into my chest. I can feel her tears drop against my robe. Reaching out, I cup her face in my hand and force her to look up at me. The pad of my thumb running over her cheek.
"No one is going to hurt you."
"That's not…" sob, "what I'm worried about." A look of confusion crosses my face as she pauses for a moment. "I can't stand to see you…" sob, "Or anyone else… get hurt because of me." Her heated tears race over my palm as it touches her flushed cheek and I'm surprised. This girl doesn't seem to care about herself at all. It appears that she only ever worries about the well being of others. I put my arms around her, pulling her into an embrace. I can feel my anger rising.
"Nothing is going to hurt me. I promise I won't let them touch us or any of our friends ever again. You have my word." She continues to cry for several minutes before she reluctantly drifts off to sleep in my arms, soaking tears into my shirt. Her week hands loosen their grip as she falls limp. When her breathing has calmed and I'm sure she's finally fallen asleep, I slip my hands under her knees and around her back, lifting her up tentatively, and carry her to bed, lying next to her through the night. She continues to quiver and it pains me that I can't drive away the entirety of her sadness and for the rest of the night I can't bring myself to leave her side.
It seems I have a new mission. I decide I'm not just protecting her for Index's sake anymore, but for my own. "What a handful," I say to myself, finding it impossible to resist the call of sleep any longer. I can feel her hand fall into mine before I drift into unconsciousness.
