A/N: Alright, time for some comfort!


Standing in front of his door, her finger hovering over the buzzer, she was starting to rethink this whole thing. His tone was so desperate that she'd raced over, still in her pajamas, because of what was probably an overreaction on her part. How was she supposed to explain the reason for her visit? He called her as Mogami Kyoko, and not Mistress Setsu, so what did that mean? Where did he get her number anyway? What if he wasn't even the one who called her, and she was about to wake him up? What if he wasn't even home? In the end, nothing overcame her need to know that he was alright.

After a small delay, the door cracked opened fractionally, and she hesitated, the stiffness of fear coiling through her limbs. She took a deep breath, pushing it further open, but there was only the light from the corridor to interrupt the pervading darkness beyond the threshold. Turning on her phone's flashlight, she braced herself and stepped inside..

She found him slumped over against the wall next to the door, sheet-white, and with hair plastered to his face. She dropped immediately to her knees and reached out to him, but he showed no sign of reaction. He was cold and rigid, and her mouth went dry as she checked for a pulse. It was silly she knew, because he must've just opened the door, but she couldn't help herself. Breathing out a sigh of relief, she dragged her hand across his forehead, pushing his hair out of the way.

"I'm here, it's alright, I'm here."

She didn't get a response, but she wasn't expecting one, as she wrapped her arms around him and settled into his side as close as she could. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but she didn't care.

"You're alright," she cooed, hoping some part of him was registering her words.

This wasn't her responsibility, she knew that. What she should've done was to call an ambulance, and leave him in the hands of trained professionals. It would've been reasonable to fear for her own safety, if he came to, confused and violent. Even knowing all that though, she just stayed there, holding him. He was unresponsive for a long time, and then she felt a small twitch, his shoulders shifting slightly, before his arms reached around and pulled her into him. With the odd angles, and differences in their heights, the position was awkward, but he didn't seem to notice.

"I'm here, you're safe," she promised, rubbing soothing circles against his skin. "Come back to me, I'm waiting for you."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, low and raspy, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, everything's okay now, shhh."

He gripped her even tighter, and he began to shake, tears dripping onto her hair and shoulder.

"But it's my fault... I killed him."

She should've fled, terrified, but her heart just broke for him. Was it possible that he really murdered someone, or did he just blame himself for their death? If this is what made him so afraid of the dark, why did he have all the lights off? Even the brightness of the city outside should've helped, but he must've had blackout curtains covering the windows. Was this a way to punish himself, since she was no longer there to do it for him, or had he become more comfortable with the darkness because of their sessions, and now that they'd ended...

Even though she knew in the abstract that it wasn't her fault, she couldn't help but feel responsible.

"Where are you?" she whispered.

"I don't know."

She shifted to free her arms, first wiping the tears from his face, and then covering his eyes with her hands.

"You're with me, safe and sound, just like in my dungeon. Nothing can hurt you here, I've got you."


He focused on the sound of her voice, and the grounding weight of her body. There was something so reassuring about the way she covered his eyes, somehow pulling him back to reality, and out of the darkness inside his soul. He still struggled to breathe, his chest tight and his head pounding, probably from lack of air, but the relief was immense and incredible.

"I'm sorry."

His voice was rough and tired, but he hoped that his sincerity came through. Calling her had been a moment of weakness, but the fact that she actually came all the way here just for him, it proved he didn't deserve her. Still, he wasn't strong enough to refuse her comfort, especially since it was the last of it he'd probably ever have.

"Shhhh, there's nothing to be sorry for. You're not alone anymore, everything's fine."

It really was. She'd made him feel safe again, and chased away the encroaching abyss, but eventually she would leave him again, and he couldn't call her next time. As much as he wanted to, it wasn't right, or fair. She didn't owe him this; hadn't even been paid for this. He knew well he was asking for too much, but could he stop himself without her posing an objection?

"You don't have to stay, I'll be fine."

He loosened his grip on her, realizing how tightly he was holding on, and how uncomfortable she must've been in that position. She moved to kneeling, and his arms fell away, prepared for her to get up. Instead, she leaned her forehead against his, her hands still pressed gently over his eyes.

"I don't mind, I'll stay as long as you need me to."

He almost told her he wanted her to stay forever, but he swallowed down the words, and all his feelings. For however long this lasted, he would enjoy it, all those familiar sensations coming back to him.

"Thank you, Mogami-san."

It was a risk, but he wanted to know how she'd react. He heard her let out a heavy breath from her nose, and she chuckled slightly.

"I was hoping you'd keep pretending not to know, honestly," she admitted in a whisper, finally pulling her hands and face away.

He opened his eyes, but it didn't matter, it was much too dark to see her expression. Maybe it was better that way, even if he desperately wanted to look at her.

"I can from this point on, if you'd prefer."

"I think it's a little late for that now, but... thank you for keeping my secret."

"You don't have to worry, Mistress, I would never tell anyone."

"I know," she breathed, her voice almost too small to hear.


This was getting uncomfortably intimate, their being so open with each other, and she didn't know how to handle the situation. As Setsu, she could easily navigate these waters, but as Kyoko, this was rough and unfamiliar territory. Without the power dynamic in play, they stood on equal footing, and that terrified her. Instead of interacting with him as a character, engineered to fulfill his fantasies, she had to face him as herself, and she had no idea how to do that.

"I don't… know what I'm doing," she confessed.

"You've done enough honestly, you don't have to stay."

She let out a deep breath, shaking her head. It just made things more difficult when he encouraged her to leave, not just because she knew that's probably what she should do, but because she felt overwhelmingly inclined not to. The impulse was one that was probably best left ignored, but she was already here, so what did it matter if she stayed a little longer?

"I know, but I will. How are you feeling? You should probably try to stretch out your legs, after sitting that way for so long."

"Don't worry, I'm fi- ahhh," he hissed in pain.

She reached out on instinct, her hand brushing his face. They both froze, and she slowly traced his cheek with the back of her fingers. It was so strange, how the impregnable darkness all around them made her feel so safe, and so uneasy, at the same time. He leaned into her touch, and they stayed that way for a while, neither of them saying a word. Was he as confused by the whole situation as she was? She didn't want to think about it.

"Are you able to stand? If you feeling up to it, you should take a quick bath or shower before getting back into bed."


He probably looked as miserable as he felt, which made him thankful to be obscured by the lack of light, even though he knew she didn't see him in that way. Still, it would've been nice to see her properly, not only because this would be the last time, but because he'd never seen her as Mogami-san outside of work. When he realized she was in what were probably pajamas, the knife of guilt twisted deeper. She'd probably gotten out of bed just to come here, and had done so without even getting dressed.

She was so much kinder to him than he deserved, and the least he could do was get up. He pushed off the ground with his palms, shifting onto his knees. His head was spinning a little, but he'd experienced worse. He braced himself with one hand against the wall, and then she reached out to him, and he stopped breathing.

"You can lean on me if you need to."

Did she have any idea how much those words hurt? He blinked hard, fighting against the sting at the back of his eyes.

"I'm okay," he lied, but let part of himself sink into her, because he couldn't hold himself back.

She didn't even suggest turning on the lights, holding her phone as a flashlight ahead of them, as they made their way to his bedroom. When they got to the door, would she leave? Would she wait until he was tucked back into bed? Would she stay until he fell asleep? What would hurt the least? The most? He didn't know which he preferred.

"Are you steady enough to stand on your own?"

He nodded his head, his body working on autopilot. She asked if he had a change of sheets, he did. Where were fresh pajamas? He told her. She sent him to get cleaned up, like he was a child, while she fixed the bed. His protests were useless, but that was how it worked, right? Whatever order she gave him, he'd obey. It felt nice, so familiar and comfortable, and he didn't want it to ever stop.


What was she doing? Was she out of her mind? Moko-san was going to murder her to death when she found out, but it was like some kind of forcefield prevented her from leaving. Maybe it was just the lack of sleep, and she was becoming delirious, leaving her brain vulnerable to the dream thoughts she'd never willingly admit to having. She was torn between making up the bed and fleeing, and taking the opportunity to snoop around his apartment. The fact that he could be done showering any minute, and that she was also pretty tired, was thankfully enough to keep the impulse in check.

She instinctively breathed in the scent of the sheets, and then threw her arms as far away from her face as she could. This was absolutely terrible. Just as soon as she made sure he was okay, she needed to leave. She should've just run out the door right then, but she couldn't abandon him when he was in such a fraught emotional state, and even though she knew she shouldn't blame herself, she couldn't help feeling responsible. Old habits die hard, she thought, a bitter smile finding her face, before she shook her head to chase away the memory.

The bed was so soft and inviting, as she crawled across it to straighten the blanket, which made her realize just how exhausted she really was. She couldn't have been sleeping long when she got the call, and it was already past two. By the time she got home it would probably be at least three, and she didn't even want to think about that, or the cost of these ridiculously soft pillows. She couldn't help pressing her face into one, just to test, just for a second. It was even better than she imagined, snuggling her check against the fabric.


The water pelted angrily against his skin, burning away the bits of grime that stained his soul, at least temporarily. He placed his palms against the tiled walls, hanging his head, as he tried not to think about how close and how far he was from Mogami-san. How easily he forgot his guilt when she was involved; at least he wouldn't be able to do that for much longer. Was she even still there? He was afraid to find out. Intrusive thoughts clawed at his mind, dark voices giving him terrible ideas. His hand reached for the faucet, raising the water temperature until his flesh was nearly scalding.

He listened for sound outside the bathroom door, but heard nothing. There was a light on in the bedroom, though that wasn't really an indication that she was still there. He padded slowly across the soft carpet, his eyes trained on the floor, for fear that she gone. When he got to the edge of the bed, he finally lifted them to scan the room, and it felt like his heart stopped beating. His jaw dropped open when he saw her lying there, asleep, in his bed.

He couldn't breathe, terrified of moving a single muscle, in case she'd wake up. But it was wrong, wasn't it, to leave her there? If he let her sleep, and she found herself still in his apartment in the morning, would that be worse? He wanted to freeze this moment, to have time stay stuck like this forever, so that he never had to watch her walk away again. For just a little while he waited, memorizing the peaceful expression on her face, and how her hair looked, mussed from sleeping.

"Mogami-san."

When she didn't respond, he called her name again, a little louder. She hummed and shifted positions, and he didn't think he could take much more. He reached a hand out tentatively, holding it still in midair, too afraid to touch her.

"Mogami-san," he repeated once more.

This time she dragged a hand up her face, her eyes slitting open.

"What?" she groused, voice heavy with sleep.

"You fell asleep in my bed."

"Mmmm, yess, it's so soft."

Her eyes closed again, her lips curving into a small smile. Was she trying to kill him?

"You can stay here if you'd like, but I thought you might want to leave."

"I'll just stay until you fall asleep," she mumbled.

Did she just? No, there was no way she meant what those words implied.

"Alright, I'm going to sleep now, I'll be in the guest room if you need anything."

He turned to leave, but she grabbed hold of his arm.

"Stay."

"It's okay, I'll be right down the hall. You're too tired to know what you're saying."

She opened her eyes fully and looked up at him, making his heart pound with impressive force.

"No," she insisted, "I'm not. Go to sleep."

Without saying a word, she rolled over, effectively ending the conversation. In a daze, he turned off the light and climbed into bed, carefully keeping a polite distance away. His head was still pounding, and now his emotions were an even bigger mess. Could he fall asleep with her next to him, knowing she might be gone when he woke up? For her sake, he'd try, and if that didn't work, then he'd pretend.


A/N: So yeah, they're sleeping in the same bed. No big. Nothing to see here, nothing at all.