Welcome back!
As I commented on previous author notes, the rating has changed to M, so from now on you will need to choose the All Rating options in the display menu. Some of the scenes are a bit out of my comfort zone regarding writing, so I really hope you like them:) This fic has become an exercise in stretching that comfort zone, from the choice of pairing to the choice of verbal tense.
Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed, followed, or favourited this story. In particular, I'd like to thank Morizono Kat, SzymonS, Avedici, and Daeths. This time around I have been able to reply all of your reviews via PM. Just a little thing: the content that was sketched for chapter 7 will be featured in chapter 8. Chapter 6 was getting too long, and I didn't want to delay its uploading, so I've split it into six and seven.
I hope you have a good time reading this. As always, I appreciate your feedback.
Warmest wishes and stay safe.
Ah, when you are scared and can't return, come and hug me.
Ah, when it is hard and I scream, will you come for me?
Theme of Gasai Yuno, Red Love.
6. Ghosts #2: Vows and Desires
Mao is fuming, her face flushed with hues that clash with her colouring, wild eyes jumping from Hinata to Akise, who are sitting on a bench in the school grounds engaged in a lively conversation. She stands up near them, fidgeting with her dress, chewing her lower lip to prevent her jealousy from exploding. Leaning against the wall behind the bench, Kosaka smirks, sharing some snark here and there, giving the other boy a thumbs-up in triumphant male solidarity.
Akise and Hinata are comparing pics or texts in their mobile phones. He says something that makes her laugh, a sound brimming with flirting, for she is flirting indeed. Her posture is more feminine than what is usual in her, long legs pointing out at the albino's seat, body leaned forward so that her generous breasts push against the fabric of her sports top. She pats his arm lightly, as if supporting herself from the shaking of the laughter, and her hand lingers there for too long.
Mao is fuming and flushed, and Yuno, who is starting to see red, sympathises with her for once. The scene makes her want to stab Hinata and save Third the effort. How dare she touch her man like that?!
The crimson words of possessiveness make the alarms jump in her mind, so she commands herself to calm down and remember what it is going on there. It was their plan: after Akise's exam and her PE lesson, he would distract Hinata, whereas Yuno would break into the girl's locker to investigate her stuff. She found nothing of relevance: no weapons, no transmitter or gadget to connect with Tenth or his rabid dogs, no Tenth's diary. She also mingled with Mao's belongings with similar results.
She may have succeeded or failed her part of the mission, depending on how one looks at it.
Meanwhile, he has dealt with the duo of girls and got to pry into Hinata's phone to boot. It is a common one, not his father's. Akise cannot know this because he has never seen it before, so his interest in whichever crap Hinata keeps there is normal as he looks for clues. By a stroke of luck, Hinata convinces Mao to show pics and whatnot from her phone to him, too—another harmless one. Hinata's clothes have no place to hide anything else, and she looks truthfully unknowing of the battle royale. Yuno has seen her pretend innocence in several loops—she can tell there is no deception now. All in all, it seems this is one of the realities where the tomboyish girl ignores what Tenth is up to, and he is not using his daughter as another well-trained hound.
"Hey, Gasai, come here join us!" Kosaka shouts, waving his hands and grinning like an idiot. Mao's face sparkles with something resembling hope.
"Hey, Yuno. Did you know Hino-san here would be studying in my class from tomorrow on?" says Akise, and the sparkle disappears. The whole moment may be hilarious if Yuno were not fighting her own demons.
"Hey, I told you to drop the honorific and use my name." She laughs again and gives him a wink. Yuno imagines gouging out that eye. "I can't believe I'm kinda promoted! I'll have to work hard, but senpai here will help me through. Mao, stop pouting, we'll still be friends. We all can go out together. Let's exchange phone numbers and make some amusing plans."
She chimes, the embodiment of a cheerleader. Kosaka joins the friendship-fest, of course. Following Akise's subtle gesture, and not exactly knowing how or why, Yuno steps in the party, too. Besieged by an excess of good intentions and zest for fun, an unexpected vision crosses her mind.
It is the path of a non-existent world without the Game where everyone, including Yuno, develop a close friendship. Yuki is alive, and no one in the group is trying to throttle a rival because of romantic clashes. For a split second, the vision seems so legit that she starts pondering questions. Would she choose Yuki as her first choice again and ignore Akise? Would he choose her over Yuki?
The second is gone, and she comes back from la-la land, pinching her wrist to wake up from stupid daydreaming. Such a trail of thought goes nowhere. Besides, the nuisance now is not Yukiteru's ghost, but Hinata's fleshy presence. Why is she still touching Akise? Can't she understand the meaning of territory?
Her patience gone, Yuno urges him to go. She has remained composed until now, but red seethes beneath her veneer. When they make to leave, Mao grants her a smile full of gratitude for splitting the couple apart, adding up to the overall weirdness.
Strolling towards the bus stop, enduring a gusty wind that makes Yuno be thankful for wearing sport clothes and not a skirt today, they exchange their findings, which amount to nothing suspicious. The conclusion that Hinata doesn't belong to the group of successors is reached, though he suggests monitoring her once she has changed classes. She is fed up with the Hino issue, so she asks him in a bark-like tone about his exam, which he has nailed as expected. Then they stop trying to ease the hassle that lingers between them since yesterday.
Riding on the bus, her thoughts are bleak as the dark-grey sky over the city, noisy as the trees which rustle and creak under the attack of the wind. For all she knows, Hinata has never lusted after Akise, not even in the loops where they became close friends. This new attraction—because the signs are unmistakable—may mean another change in this universe crammed with surprises. Unlike other turns of events, Yuno doesn't welcome this one.
Her mood escalates from grey to black.
At the dojo, they have the chance to let off steam. They engage in one combat after another, rather equal in skill and strength. They start with ritualised techniques that soon shift into raw street fights without any ceremony behind.
A good time has passed by when they finally stop to recover their breath.
"I don't understand why you resent me, Yuno."
"You behave like a jerk yesterday."
He frowns. "I accept my share in this cold war, okay. What about you? You didn't have your best day either, taking everything personally. And what have I done today to cross you?"
She cannot stop herself. "Flirting with Hino-san, maybe?"
His eyebrows rise in disbelief. "I wasn't flirting, I was checking if she was an enemy. We decided on that course of action together."
"She was hitting on you, and you went along."
"I was just being nice. Dammit, your suspicions can be suffocating. Are you aware of how many boys look at you as if you were a feast? Must I rave about it, too? It wouldn't say much about my trust in you."
"I reckon I have issues. I'm working on them, I'm trying! Stop judging me from your self-righteous pedestal."
"I'm not doing that. The balance of power between us is going to change in no time, and it's not me who will have the upper hand."
She puts her hands on her hips. "Would you have preferred to become a player and fight against me?"
"Don't twist my words."
"You're the one twisting topics!" She stops, chewing what is gnawing at her. "By the way, why haven't you introduced me as your girlfriend?"
He pauses, then chuckles softly. "I didn't realise labels were that important to you." His voice has grown gentler, his face has lit up even when a flick of nervousness crosses it.
Yet, he has not answered her question.
"Then?" she insists.
"Then what?"
"What. Are. We?" Anxiety punctuates every word.
He doesn't look too cool, either. Vague would be a better term to describe his reaction. "Petty concerns have no place in your destiny, Yuno."
She feels annoyed at how her demands have backfired. She sees she will not get a definite answer, so she goes for second best. "Those petty labels would tell people like Hino-san not to overstep certain limits."
"Enough is enough. Don't stoop low, it doesn't suit you."
"At least I feel this way because of a real girl who likes pawing you. I'm not the one poisoning my thoughts with a dead boy."
She regrets her outburst at once. It is unfair and hypocritical, for Yukiteru's shadow also dives in the abysses of her mind.
Akise tenses, hardens his gaze. "Speaking of low blows."
"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry."
His scowl doesn't relent, and she is afraid she has crossed a line of no return. Angst grabs her heart with an iron fist; she begins to panic.
At last, he eases a bit. "We'd better train than throw accusations back and forth."
She nods heartily while the fear of loss constraints her throat. They resume their practice, an ugly piece of work where the two combatants attempt to bury emotional damage under physical exhaustion.
Somehow, it works. He asks for a break a while later, complimenting her stamina. They sit down and hydrate, and she thinks the training has ended when he disappears into a storage room.
He comes back, carrying two sheathed surprises. He keeps one and throws the other to Yuno. The katana flips in the air before she catches it.
"You told me you preferred blades," he says, unsheathing his sword. "They use them for advanced tai-chi performances. Although I'm not a master, I can stand my ground."
Yuno stares at him, weighing what the hell all this means, which fragments of erased timelines have been triggered, which ones could be sparked. She berates herself for showing off last night; up until now, she has trodden carefully around her deadly weapons. One minute of bragging may undo all her efforts.
"Shall we dance a bit?" he asks.
She draws the katana and shudders, half with pleasure, half dreading it might mean the destruction of their relationship. His head. Once she used a hunting knife, once she used a sword. She shudders again, choking on recollections which are unbearable now, however necessary the actions seemed back then. The idea of messing with her memories as Muru Muru and she did in their first loops tempts her; it vanishes fast. That defence mechanism cost them pieces of sanity and wholeness, and since Yuno gained full control of her Dea's energies to disguise her identity from Deus they have never resorted to it again.
She must live with her countless pasts, but she would do anything to prevent them to break Akise.
I won't let him remember me like that, she swears, clenching her fist around the wilt.
She loosens her grip on the weapon, saunters towards a low bench, and lets the katana there.
"I'm not fighting you with blades, don't ask me again."
"You had a knife with you in my backyard."
"I mistook you for a foe, you made me think so! I'm not using this, period. We shouldn't, it's dangerous. I'm leaving."
She unties her belt and puts off the jacket of her karate gi, standing in the white cotton T-shirt she is wearing behind, and pivots to reach the changing rooms.
Akise stays in her way to the exit, right in front of her.
"Oh, Yuno, but you did use cold steel against me. You did, and you will."
"I won't!" she shouts, shocked.
As she realises his clothes are all wrong, she hears the voice of the real Akise coming from the place he has never moved from, asking who she was talking to.
Her hair stands on end.
The ghostly albino tilts his head to perceive what lies behind her. His eyes widen in surprise and then lose focus, tendrils of mist blurring his shape, voice shrouded. "You did, and you will unless you let go and break the cycle. Are you learning now? Have you finally?"
She shrieks, pitches forward against the spooky silhouette, passes through thin air. A chill runs up her spine. She hears the youth calling for her, but she runs away, a hundred thoughts spinning in her mind. Could it be Twelfth's diary? May the freak vigilante hide somewhere near threading a trap?
She bolts from one place of the building to another, tracking every shadow to uncover the enemy's presence while logic tells her that Akise has not suffered from delusion, that no one in the area behaves like a zombie, that she has not experimented the same effects as at the hospital. By the time she has combed the grounds around the dojo and known with certainty that Twelfth is not there, she doesn't stop, for her worries don't stop either.
Forget about diaries, she has been bearing similar hallucinations for lifetimes now. She boils with rage for ignoring their meaning and purpose, and curses Deus Ex Machina, whom she blames for the paranoia. She only wants to escape the phantasmagoria, so she runs on and on.
The wind has halted, the pregnant clouds explode in a heavy downpour. She dashes over puddles, never yielding until she feels that she has arrived at a safe haven and left some accusatory oddity behind.
The entrance to the Akises' place stands before her. She stops, bends over, puts her hands over her knees. Cold sweat mixes with raindrops. She embraces herself till she hears footsteps. She lifts her head and sees the white-haired youngster—the authentic one, thank goodness—heading for her, loaded with bags: her schoolbag, the sports one, his. He has put on his jacket over the karate gi in a feeble attempt to defy the weather. He pauses beside her and takes a deep breath.
"What happened? Why did you flee?"
She crosses the space that separates them and throws her arms around him. She buries her head in his chest, grateful to find flesh and bone. She holds him tight as if he were a mirage which may escape from her grasp, all trivial grudges fading away at the delight of feeling his body.
"I thought that I was under Twelfth's hypnosis. False alarm, but I… I don't know what got into me, I just needed to leave."
He tries to return her hug without dropping the bags. "Don't do that ever again. Don't go after an enemy without me knowing," he says against her earlobe.
She shivers, this time not from coldness or dread. "I'm sorry for our fights. I'm sorry for my cruel remarks, for my jealousy. I trust you; I really do. Mistrust is all in my head because of my past, the people I knew, my own obsessions… But it was far worse before, I'm working on it. I'm better now, I'm learning."
He has decided to sacrifice his sports bag to the muddy ground so that he can draw soothing circles on her back. "I apologise, too. We've acted like fools, letting our stubbornness harm us. It's okay, we can adjust and grow together. Let's get inside, we'll fall sick if we remain here."
They enter the house with their arms interlaced. He disengages to let the bags and his jacket on a sideboard in the hallway. Like her, he stays in the karate trousers and a tee shirt now. The wet fabric delineates his torso, a very appealing vision in Yuno's eye. She ogles him in not a subtle way.
He comes back with a couple of towels. He offers one to her and starts advising about taking a warm bath and changing into dry clothes when he loses track of his speech. Colour touches his cheeks; he averts his gaze, which returns to Yuno regardless with a will of its own. Surprised, she considers that her stares have made him uncomfortable.
Then she notices which part of her body attracts his attention and understands. Soaked white cotton covers her breasts, leaving nothing to the imagination. Pride overcomes her. Hinata is not the only one with a pair of assets. She straightens her posture to allow him a better view.
"Do you like what you see?"
Although he has looked away in respect, her tone is charged with intention, and he perceives it. He lives up to the challenge. "I like it very much. You are a vision."
"You can touch them if you want," she purrs.
A speck of shyness assails her as she observes how his pupils dilate with desire, charcoal ringed by flames. He combs her wet hair, brushes her collarbones and cleavage, trails the transparent fabric down to her mounds and traces their shape, hesitant at reaching the stiff peaks.
The seconds of hesitation are enough for Yuno to forget coyness.
She kisses him with passion, provoking his immediate reaction: his hands become bolder, making her heady. She pecks his lower lip, abandons it for his neck, rejoices in his flavour and scent and the low sounds which escape from his throat until he lifts her chin to reclaim her lips. His tongue curls around hers in sweet abandon as his thumbs caress her nipples in patterns similar to those within her mouth.
Tingles of pleasure run across her body, making her blood pump hard. She moans; he drinks her satisfaction with hunger. The heat between them escalates: a pinch is met with a bite; fondling is met with grabbing. Hands are lost over and under clothes intent on tearing down the barrier which prevents their skin to be in direct contact.
In a haze of lust, they find themselves against a wall. They are panting, their tee shirts and her bra discarded on the floor, her waist held by one of his arms, his face on her breasts, her nails playing roughly with his hair and nape as he licks her areolas with agonising delicacy.
"You taste so sweet," he says, breathing on the sensitised area, then sucking it softly.
The contrast is delicious and turns her greedy. "I love that, keep on doing it. Please."
He obeys, and she basks in his compliance.
"Thank you," she whispers.
He looks up at her, eyes gleaming with an emotion that disarms her. He resumes his ministrations, which become erratic as his arousal increases. His erection is rubbing against her thigh, so she shifts her position to allow a better angle to feel him, and they start to lose it, moving in a dance of bliss instead of a dance of swords. There is a throb between her legs, her heart pounds, and she wants more of him, she wants all of him.
But he is slowing down gradually, stepping back. Dizzy and expectant, she waits for his next move.
He covers her with one of the towels, mumbles something that breaks the charm.
Like two days ago, he is withdrawing.
"You're kidding me," she says, and reaches to him to regain momentum.
He surrenders for a moment only to resist her again if with great effort. "Forgive me, I can't afford to lose control like this. I should… I must…"
He tries to elaborate some excuse between clenched teeth, his body tense in every sense of the word, instincts fighting whichever pretext he is looking for.
Elaborated or not, shoulds and musts win, to Yuno's dismay.
"Fuck you!" she shouts, giving him a shove and whipping away, cringing at the choice of wording.
She strides to her side of the house, slams the door of the bathroom, kicks away the rest of her clothes. She enters the shower, aching and craving ongoing warmth, hoping that he will appear to explain himself.
Water runs in another bathroom. No shower will be shared.
The rest of the evening is a study in avoidance.
...
She cannot find rest. Hot and agitated, she stirs on her bed. Many, many loops have passed by since she has felt that turned on; frustration is nagging her. His body is just a narrow corridor and two rooms across, his reasons lost in some unreachable place. It vexes her to have him so close and so far at the same time. He desires her, very much indeed, so why did he pull away? Is he so afraid of losing objectivity? Is it because of their arguments?
Perhaps the low blow about Yukiteru she threw up against him was too much to forgive, a shadow too dark for them to illuminate.
Her eyes sting. Maybe he is doing the right thing keeping them at arm's length, preventing their relationship to deepen. After all, that was her scheme from the start.
No further intimacy. Just play, foreplay, stop. Keep it flat, a shallow bond.
She suffocates a whimper. She is not fooling anyone: nothing is shallow between them.
Jaded, she changes the bed for the floor. She takes a yoga posture, meditates. Bit by bit, she begins to relax.
Then, the scream.
Pure unadulterated terror comes from somewhere else in the house, from Akise's bedroom, from Akise's throat. She has never heard him scream like that, not even when confronted with certain death.
She jolts into motion, there is a gun in her bedside table, now it is in her hand, now she is racing towards his room. She storms off the place, aiming at whomever is there, ready to shoot, regretting the impersonal kill when she would rather be cutting the enemy to pieces.
No one is in the room save the albino, who is half sitting, half lying on his bed. He lowers his hands from his face, paler than pale, hair plastered and dishevelled like tangled white silk.
"Yuno?"
"Are you alright?" She remains in high alert, staring everywhere to detect any threat, muscles charged with adrenaline.
"I've woken you up, sorry. I had a nightmare. It seemed so real. So real."
Relief washes over her. She stops targeting the nothingness, leaves the gun on a desk, and approaches him slowly. He looks like a wild animal, a handsome, fragile specimen still able to lash out at his hunter and rip her off before being taken down.
"The dream is gone. You're awake now. I'm here for you."
She offers him her hand, sits beside him, brushes his face, pulls the bangs off his forehead. He warms up under her palms. He revels in her touch, kisses her wrist.
"It's a recurring bad dream. I stood in the strangest of places, surrounded by a blinding light. I was dying, something worse than dying, fighting circles of bright particles, a void bent on consuming me. Against a god's will, I lived, only to be murdered soon after. I survived and died again, and my heart was broken over and over."
His words belong to former loops and terrify her. For lack of a reply, she hugs him and whispers nonsense in his ear. Little by little, their bodies reassure one another, dispelling the horrors and the cold.
"I don't know when or how, because although I've had admirers, I can't recall me dating anyone before you," he says, feverish scarlet fixed upon carnation pink. "However, I remember the feeling. Of my love being unrequited, of pushing onwards against impossible odds, of treading my happiness for someone else's. I can't tell apart nightmares from reality, but I can feel it: my hopes shattered, my life wasted. Worst of all, the certainty that it was meant that way, that I couldn't aspire higher, that that was my duty." A mirthless, wounded chuckle escapes his lips.
She doesn't know what to say. She hurts for him, cursing the score of worlds between them, moved to tears to see him so vulnerable.
"I—" she starts, but he quiets her.
"Listen to me, please. I don't mind where these feels come from. I don't care if the Game is taking a toll on my perception. I want to live. I want to love. I dreaded being heartbroken again, so I cowered before you. But I am brave, I'm not letting this fear stop me. Why can't I have my way for once? I want to love and be loved in turn. I want to honour my heart and be selfish about my desires."
His voice is husky, his touch burns, there is fire in his eyes. Moonlight beams seep through blinds and curtains, giving his skin a pearly quality. The palest shade of blue glimmers in his hair, and Yuno thinks she has never seen anyone or anything as beautiful as this before. Her heart overflows with emotion; their mouths crashed together, robbing them of breath while filling them with hope and lust.
"I'll take care of your heart tonight. I give you permission to be selfish."
As they undress each other, their pulse beating in unison, the night explodes in a tender bonfire which scorches them before bringing them back wiser and stronger, the moon a silent witness in the sky.
...
Dawn comes; the last rays of silver and the first rays of gold struggle for dominance. After refreshing herself, Yuno stands in the bathroom in front of the mirror, revelling in the lovely sensations which still enwrap her. They have taken it easy, not going all the way through yet. Instead, they took their time, exploring each other's body, studying how they react under soft or coarse touches, learning the other's shape, giving and receiving pleasure before falling into peaceful, satisfied sleep. She looks at her reflection: rosy cheeks, healthy glow, beaming smile. The image demands honesty.
Vows and duty.
In the recesses of her consciousness, a tiny voice whines about faithfulness and betrayal, a susurrus which speaks of clinging to her old vows to Yukiteru even when she kept them till death did them part and beyond. Insidiously, it mutters she should feel ashamed after reaching this new level of intimacy with another man. Providing she cannot love Yuki anymore, at least she should feel tainted.
She splashes herself with cold water, stares at the mirror: she exudes happiness from head to toe.
No taint. Quite on the contrary, she feels pure, cleansed from vileness. Water is useless; she would need to bath in blood to remove that cleanliness.
Is this what 'letting go' means?
The idea unsettles her. Maybe she is not ready yet.
Somehow ill at ease, she comes back to the bedroom—Akise has just returned from the other bathroom. They say good morning, the faintest timidity colouring the interaction. It fades away as ogles come back and forth pinning her breasts and waist, his chest and subtly defined abs, her thighs and legs, his length which is hardening under his boxers.
They fall into each other's embrace and onto the bed.
The hateful voice still tries to catch Yuno's attention, so she thinks of experimenting.
If I may prove this is wrong… If I may make it filthy…
Thus, she acts out all sultry, goes down on him, looking for his hardness. She strokes it and laps it from base to tip before swallowing it. She bobs her head up and down, pretending an expertise she doesn't really have. He grunts, and his hips tremble with the effort not to move untidily.
And then he stops her.
No, not again!
All of a sudden, she realises it is her fault this time, that her ghosts have led her to the same road he has abandoned just a few hours ago, only in a different way. Why is she trying to sabotage herself?
No one will be able to destroy my happiness if I destroy it first.
The thought is terrible, a consequence of so many failures and losses, and she is shocked to discover she holds that belief.
Angry and embarrassed, she hides her face from him.
He doesn't permit it. Loving caresses anchor her and force her to confront him.
"I appreciate you're putting on a sexy show for me," he says huskily. "Anyway, you don't have to pretend. I've never met anyone as hot as you before, there's no need to act. You can be yourself with me."
Inside Yuno, a chain begins to break, losing several links. How she wishes she could open her heart to him without reserve.
At least I can offer him my present. I can promise him a future.
"I want to do this for you," she says with renewed confidence.
Flushed, he nods and allows her to go on.
Ignoring the tricks of her mind, she continues pleasing him, the action right and natural now. Curious, she savours the experience. Comparisons are hateful, but she cannot help noticing that he is larger than Yuki, and he tastes better. For the first time in her life, she is enjoying this particular activity—excitement builds up in her. It is thrilling to sense his cock pulsing and dripping, the vibrations that come from the motions of his hips when he cannot control them, how he tries to utter in between growls something along the lines of "your hair is like a waterfall of blossoms". She feels powerful when he pulls back just before coming undone with ecstasy, spilling hot seed over both of their stomachs.
"Fuck. Oh, fuck," he says when he recovers his voice.
She has a fit of giggles.
"What?" he asks.
"Sorry. It's only... I've never thought I'd hear you swear!"
"Well, I'm only fucking human."
She is still laughing when he uses a tissue to clean her. The tenderness and intimacy of the gesture sober her, and her own wet problem comes to the front. Her legs wiggle, and he notes it.
"It felt incredible. You were great," he says as he slips a finger inside her panties and pulls it out slick with her juices. "Let me return the favour."
He pushes her over the bed and kisses her belly and her navel. He travels down to her inner thighs, teasing her, gently spreading her legs, his mouth drawing circles that head for her folds and clitoris.
"Guide me; I'm an advanced student and eager to learn," he says.
He already learnt some lessons the night before which he applies, deft fingers inside her nursing a sweet spot. His tongue is new to the place however, so she gives directions until she cannot do anything else except moan and pant, and ride the waves of pleasure which turn her whole body into a raw nerve. Her back arches, her walls tighten, and she climaxes hard thinking that this is sheer rightness, that she feels pristine.
He is an honours student indeed.
...
They spend the day like that, horny and giddy, grinning for no reason, unable to put their hands off each other for too long. There is even a hilarious moment when he answers a phone call from his parents and has to explain why he sounds so breathy. Nonetheless, when she suggests they might go farther, he is adamant.
"I want our first time to be special, unforgettable. Do you have any cherished wish?"
The romantic streak melts Yuno, and she begs, "Then take me somewhere out of this cage, release me from this trap of a city if only for a couple days. I want to breathe fresh air, walk on the beach, see the ocean. Set me free, please."
"I do, I will."
She freezes at the eerie similarity with the words said by the spectral version of him that haunted her at the dojo. But then she sees the look on his face.
Otherworldly hope. Unshakable determination which speaks of much more than the topic they are discussing.
He is making a vow.
Inside her, another link loosens, a bolt shatters, a door becomes ajar, a wall starts to crack.
With tears in her eyes, she holds on to him as if he were salvation.