10. Mutual
The thing that she loves the most about Daigo is that when push comes to shove, he does feel the same way. It's never quite enough like empathy but he understands. She doesn't have to say anything and even if he wants her to, he doesn't ask.
Daigo was running his fingers and a comb through her hair when she opened her eyes from a restless sleep. He was smiling, a dimpled little thing that was so desperately full of love and joy and she wanted right then and there to-
end it
-because there was something like commitment there in that smile something like 'til death do us part', till the duties of their people are fulfilled. Something permanent and with Bakumon dead she didn't know if she could deal with that kind of permanence. And yet, it sounded so enticing. Not sensible, but enticing. Like if things went inevitably down the slope of color they were going to with or without her, she would have some reason not to go where it turned black.
What about Bakumon?
For the first time, that question irritates her mind, makes it red. She fumbles her fingers towards the nightstand because that voice keeps whispering and it takes on the old man's soft tone, softly guiding and cajoling to not take them, her mind is better when she's off them and that is not true, right?
His hand closed her grip on the bottle and Maki inhaled their scent from the pillow.