Reluctant Hero

12. Kaito's silence

The room was silent, saved for the low buzz from the air con and the soft rhythm of Aoko's breath. It had a natural flow to it, rather than the unnatural breathing pattern she had before, which confirmed Kaito's guess that she had truly fell asleep while pretending to.

Looking away from the rise and fall of her chest under the cover (strange how just that could reign his attention), Kaito turned towards the curtains. He couldn't see the car park from here, but he was too damn lazy to move right now. He checked his phone, finding it close to two in the morning.

Ok. He shoved his phone under his pillow and laid his head over again. Ten minutes and I'll go.

There was no way he could fall asleep in this unfamiliar environment, but he still closed his eyes anyway, his ears familiarising with the air-con buzz and Aoko's breaths as he felt himself relaxed.

Just ten minutes. Kaito repeated again in his head, and then a couple more times for warranty. That should be enough to set his body clock to work.

Ten minutes later, Kaito opened his eyes.

Or what he assumed was ten minutes.

He shifted his head around, finding the room a shade brighter than what he remembered seeing before he closed his eyes. He glanced to the gap from the curtains and inwardly groaned. There was some light outside, not too bright, but it must as least be dawn.

At least three hours much have passed.

Kaito closed his eyes again, unable to believe that he had fallen into a deep sleep faster and longer than all the sleeping pills he had taken, just by having the presence of a stupid buzzing sound and Aoko's breathing.

And that wasn't the end of his surprise.

Kaito moved, trying to reach for the phone under his pillow, but his arm was heavily weighed down, as if it was strapped to the bed. He blinked, and looked down to see why.

It was all Aoko's fault, again.

She was leaning against his left arm, face buried into his sleeve while her exposed arms were wrapped around his like a bolster. Her fingers were pressing into his skin, with almost an intention to left an imprint.

Damn it.

"No…"

Kaito flinched, looking over to Aoko's face (and mouth) to check if he had imagined hearing it.

"Don't..." She whispered painfully again.

Like a lost kitten in a sea of crowd.

Behind her fringe and some strands of hair, he could see her brows were furrowed—as if frightened by something. Kaito frowned. What could she be dreaming of?

A nightmare?

That might be one mutual friend they had.

Kaito raised his other free arm, hand reaching for her head and patting her hair as he hummed. A soft tune. Everyone's familiar rhythm. One soft pat. Another soft pat-

Her grip loosened.

"Mom," she mumbled again. "Don't go…"

Oh.

"It's... okay," Kaito whispered back. "I'm not going anywhere."

The words did better wonders than his touch; her face fell lax, breath became slower and softer… until he could tell she fell into a dreamless sleep again.

One soft pat. Another soft pat-

Ok.

He should really go.

(What a liar he was)

Slowly, Kaito moved his previously trapped arm, her fingertips bushing across the skin on his arm. He saw her hand twitched, and he quickly moved his pillow and placed it in her grasp.

She didn't move anymore.

Heaving a silent sigh, Kaito trudged across the room and towards the curtain. He took a peak outside. As expected, the black car was already gone.

But that wasn't enough to ease his tension. Kaito has wasted enough time here. He needed to get back to Snake before he started cooking up stupid thoughts and randomly decided to check up on Aoko, perhaps thinking he could use her as part of their future trade-offs or whatnots.

That would be the shit.

Kaito began searching for a pen and a notepad and found the set by a small table on Aoko's side of the bed.

There were so many things Kaito wanted to say, but he wasn't sure where to start: About their conversations in the car, her job offer on the bed, her nightmare that made her scared; basically everything else that happened. It was quite a mess—on the surface and even in his head—but what he showed, while standing in the still darkness of the room, was his pokerface.

It was his only mechanism to deal with things he wasn't sure about.

But even if there were thousand things he wanted to say, there was only one thing that he was entitled and responsible to tell. He had put Aoko's path towards Snake, and the least he could do was to diverge her away again; It was his mistake, from setting up the firewood to putting the whole forest on fire instead when all she wanted was a little warmth.

After penning down his words, he tore the paper (which happened to be a sticky note), and pasted it on the glass window.

He glanced at Aoko's small figure on the bed (for two seconds longer than intended), picked up his jacket and headed out of the door.

A/n: PHEWWWW... this had been a hell of a ride. Thank you for reading, and reviews are always loved and appreciated :')