Disclaimer: I don't own 'em.
I have the window open. It's rather chilly outside, but I'm too hot. I
growl and kick off my covers, the comforter falling off the bed to land in
a heap on the floor. My sheets are damp with sweat, as are the t-shirt and
boxers I'm wearing. It's irritating, clinging to my skin as if it were a
heavy mist that won't dissipate. I sigh, climb out of bed, and move to sit
on the windowsill, staring off into the moonlight night.
The mission was rough, but no one took any physical injury. just emotional
and psychological ones. Myself included. I can put up a façade well enough
when I choose. At times, I can't even tell the difference between the mask
I show to the world and the face that's buried beneath it. It wasn't always
like this. I wasn't always checking myself, guarding myself, putting up a
false front. but time changes, the past slips away, and I allow myself to
become lost in the cool air of the Tokyo night.
I've been awake for a while now, the sweat cooling on my skin. I suddenly
feel dirty - in need of a bath.
Slipping like a wraith out of my room and down the hall a short distance to
the bathroom, I steal inside, locking the door behind me. I need to cool
off. The heat is oppressive. I pull a towel out of the closet and, tossing
it haphazardly onto the edge of the sink, I kneel down to play with the
faucet. One way or another, I'm going to get "clean".
As the bathtub fills, I tug at my shirt, the thin material clinging to my
body. Disgusting. I grab the cloth and pull it up over my head, casting it
aside without a thought as to where it may land. I find myself sitting on
the edge of the tub, trailing my fingers through the cool water, my mind
wandering from one thought to the next. Finally satisfied with the
temperature and depth, I stand long enough to remove my boxers and let my
overheated body slip beneath the surface.
When I open my eyes and glance at Yohji's Sailor Moon clock sitting on a
shelf in plain view of the shower, I blink. It's 2:00 AM. I've been in the
bath for almost two hours. I must've fallen asleep. I quickly climb out of
the now-cold water, drain the tub, and wrap the towel around my hips,
shivering slightly. I yawn and make my way back to my room. Perhaps I won't
be so hot anymore.
I cross the room and close the window. It's a beautiful night, but the last
thing I need, standing here shedding water with every movement, is to catch
a cold.
My bedroom is still warm. I yawn again and stretch, glaring at the
comforter on the floor. It's too hot in here for that. I pad silently to my
closet and pull out a thinner and much lighter blanket. There's no way I'm
letting myself roast again.
I quickly dry my dripping hair and skin, toss the towel aside, and crawl
into bed. I've never been one to sleep nude often. It's only something I do
if it get too hot. She used to tease me about it all the time. after she
walked in at 4am and tried to wake me up by stealing the covers, that is. I
don't know who was more embarrassed: myself for not locking the door, or
her for taking my blankets.
I curl up between the sheets and close my eyes in an attempt to sleep in
the heat. I freeze when I hear something in the hallway right outside my
door. Part of me wants to arm myself and beat the shit out of whatever it
was. My logical side, however, reminds me that I'm not exactly dressed for
the occasion. I sigh and try to resume my interrupted nap.
Another crash has me burying my head under the pillow. I'm not scared, not
in the least. I'm an assassin. It would be foolish to be able to kill a man
without flinching, yet jump at even the smallest sound. I want to go to
sleep, but someone seems to have it out for me. Again, I close my eyes and
force myself to shut out the world around me.
I must've started to drift off, because I almost didn't catch the sound of
the door opening. I slowly open my eyes to see a figure standing in the
doorway. I know who it is, but I don't understand why. I've never tried to
be close to any of them. I even go so far as to tell myself that I don't
WANT the closeness, the friendship. that I don't deserve it.
He turns to leave. By now, my right arm is falling asleep. I must've been
lying on it wrong. I shift my body to try and restore feeling, when he
stops and looks back. He must've heard me. I don't put it past him; after
all, he's an assassin.
I blink and try to speak, but what comes out is a pretty pathetic whisper.
"Wha's wrong?"
"Go back to sleep."
I growl low in my throat. I don't like being ordered around, and I'll be
damned if I let him get away with not answering me.
He sighs and says, "Can't sleep."
There it was - the reason to why he was here. I wanted to ask him why he
was in my room, but instead I just smiled and pushed myself up. "Me
either." Wha. where the hell did that come from? I guess the heat is
starting to get to me.
He stares at me as if I've suddenly grown tentacles. I know he doesn't know
what to make of this drastic turn in my personality. Honestly, I don't
either, but I know that I can't act like a cold-hearted bastard all the
time. If I did, I'd die from frostbite, which is why I decide to let the
mask fall.
He stands there, like he doesn't know whether to walk in or run away. I
laugh in spite of myself. He looks kinda cute like that.
I move over in the bed and lift the edge of the blankets. He can't sleep, I
can't sleep. might as well keep each other company for a while.
He continues to stare.
"Don' tell me ya jus' wanna stand there all night." I wince inwardly. Kami,
I sound like an idiot tonight.
He shakes his head, closes the door, and starts to come closer. Agonizingly
slow steps. He must think I'm going to bite his head off. Of course, it's
not everyday that I offer to let someone sleep with me. or smile. or laugh.
or. oh shit. That's when it dawns on me that I'm still naked. A part of me
hopes that he'll turn and run. The rest of me wants him to stay.
Unfortunately, the rest is what wins out. I drop the sheets, pouting. I'm
not going to sit here all night while he tiptoes around.
The door is closed. The light from outside is shut off. All that remains is
the pale moonlight from the window.
I keep pouting. This is taking way too long. I climb out of bed, not caring
about embarrassing myself. He'd probably write it all off as a weird dream
later, anyway. besides, he doesn't seem to notice. I move behind him and
push him toward the bed. He looks unsure of what's going on. I don't blame
him. I'd act the same if I were him.
After dragging him into bed, I crawl over him and settle back between the
sheets, pulling the blankets up over us. I have to force myself not to
laugh at him. He looks shocked. On a whim, I curl up against him, my body
half-covering his, my arms around him, and run my fingers through his hair.
I don't really know why I'm doing this, but it doesn't feel wrong, so I run
with it. I can feel his hands on me. one on my head playing with my hair,
the other across my lower back. Slowly, the sleep that had been eluding me
falls into my grasp and I let my eyes drift shut.
"Oyasumi," he murmurs softly, his breath ruffling my hair.
A smile touches my lips. "'Yasumi," I reply, and fall asleep to the sound
of his heartbeat.