i own nothing.
Fight
Sometimes he still dreams about reverting back to the way he was before locking his sword away. A cowardly man, shooting venomous words at his crow-like classmate and putting his only friend through cruel abuse. Fakir hates those dreams. He hates the constant reminder. And he hates the image of Ahiru's frightened face as he clenches against her wrists. And, for some reason, his mind thought it appropriate to plague him with pictures of himself attacking that very girl the most.
Slamming her against the wall and spitting out that she knows nothing…shooting her a glare that makes her legs give out from under her…holding her arms behind her back as he goads Mytho into shattering his own heart out right in front of her…
It's when he sees himself darting forward and striking a shard of glass to her throat that Fakir can't take it anymore.
Jerking to sit straight up in his bed, sweat dotting the brow of his forehead, Fakir grits his teeth as he slowly comes back down to earth. He can hear her little snores, the soft sounds that always accompany his bedside, and he breathes slowly while running a hand through his hair.
No. He's different now. He would never hurt Ahiru again like that. So why did his dreams persist in reminding him? Of the fear in her eyes as she looked at him?
Frustrated, he leans over to scoop up the sleeping duck right into his arms, apologizing softly when she wakes up abruptly and begins to squirm around everywhere in confusion. He holds fast to her, feeling the softness of her feathers against his hands.
Yes, they were once enemies. Yes, they fought each other. Yes, he still hates himself for the way he hurt her.
But when the little duck settles in his arms, still unsure of the reason why he so suddenly grabbed at her, Fakir has to close his eyes and breathe. Just breathe, and hear her quietly quack in askance. He says nothing in response, just needing to embrace the little duck that changed him so much.
Eventually he can hear her soft snores again, drifting off to sleep right in his arms. He looks down at the duck in slumber, the little feather at the top of her head rising up and down with the rhythm of her deep breaths.
It's the feel of her comfort and her trusting him so that reassures Fakir. She doesn't think about that past self of his anymore. She doesn't hate him. She doesn't even have any qualms about lowering her defenses so much and fall asleep in his hold.
It consoles him more than he can ever say, and so he slowly lies back down on the bed, closing his eyes. He keeps Ahiru in the crook of his arms as they sleep.
End