Disclaimer: I do not own this series or any of the characters.  Give Konami your money instead.

**Miklotov**

(Ooh…soft…)

It was warm and gentle, whatever was gliding over my left cheek. The thing lightly touched each and every blemish, then traveled over to the rough skin right above my top lip, where a mustache had been shaved off multiple times. It then traveled down to my lips, feeling each crack of my chapped lips. The touch seemed so hesitant and so deliberately gentle. I basked in the attention a few seconds more, and then slowly opened my eyes.

(But yet it's going away…)

It was gone before I could protest. Was it a dream? I could have imagined it, especially the way it disappeared so quickly and without a sound. And when my eyes finally opened, the thing was gone. Instead there was an empty room, all covered in white from white bed sheets to white curtains for the windows. It was noisy outside, and the sun streamed through despite the covered windows.

(As if the sun had fooled with me…)

I realized that I missed my morning training and immediately tried to push myself off the bed, but instead found myself aching in pain, unable to lift myself up more than an inch. Someone quickly rushed down the hallway towards this room, probably after hearing my cries of pain. The door opened.

(Then you came…)

He looked strangely worried and immediately held my hand gently in the grasp of his soft hands. Wait, he had soft hands? I never knew that…oh, did I actually say that out loud? He blushed, a red tinge that peeked from under the tanned skin of his face.

(No don't withdraw your hand…it feels nice…)

I held on to his hand like a child to his favorite toy. I think I was a little embarrassed too, for actually saying that out loud to my best friend who I would spar with all the time. Yes, it was awkward for strong fighters like we were.

These words roll off pleasantly from your lips…

He slowly withdrew the sheets, and I found that I was wearing a set of comfortable pajamas. He gently squeezed my hand before withdrawing it to unbutton my shirt…whoa, what's going on? This time I knew I said these words out loud, and he stopped to look at me.

(You look at me with such concern…)

He told me I was knocked back by an enemy while trying to protect him, which I didn't remember at all, though he didn't seem to take my confusion as odd. Maybe I was knocked on the head or something, because I sure did not remember at all. But then he also said that I've been out for a few days…

(I was in worse shape than I thought…)

He continued to take off my shirt. Then after discarding the shirt he flipped me over, rubbing some medicine onto my bruised back. It smelled really bad, but I felt the tingle of the medicine as it penetrated through my skin. Plus the softness of his hands felt really nice, and I was disappointed a bit when he finished. But then his hands soon returned as they traced random patterns lightly upon my back.

(Ooh…this feels good…)

I found myself relaxing greatly to his soft hands. But I really wanted to know what he was feeling, if he enjoyed it too… As I signaled to him that I wanted to be rolled over, his deft hands slowly and carefully laid me back onto my back. He smiled at me, a smile that I returned, and we just seemed to gaze at each other for a while. His eyes were so full of affection… Suddenly the sounds of footsteps down the hallway awakened us from our present state and he turned his eyes away from me.

(But now you're leaving me…)

He handed me a book that he had been carrying conveniently into my hands and told me to enjoy it. He was supposed to train the cadets and was a bit sidetracked when he heard me yelp, he told me. He tucked me into the blankets once again, like a mother to a child, and lightly brushed his fingers over my cheeks, my lips. As soon as he left, I smiled.

(Though I know it was no dream…)