o4.

A Flame's Fervor

Imagination turns to dreams, dreams turn to nightmares, and sometimes, nightmares can become reality.

Staring at it, he couldn't believe it. His vision swirled red, and all was lost in a haze. Blurred clarity overcame his temporary lapse, and as he inched closer, he recognized it for what it truly was.

There, in the exact center of the room, his room, was Mitsuru.

And there, in the opposite corner, were her clothes.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Tartarus is a nasty business. Shinjiro had always known that. But when his thigh gets banged up to the point of no excellent repair, it really does become terrifying. And when Mitsuru has to literally half-carry him up to his room, it's damn embarrassing.

As kind as she's been to him the past few months, he still didn't want to have to always rely on her. Trekking through the city at midnight in the arms of a beautiful girl was a bit mind-blowing, he'll admit, and as much as he didn't complain about her fancy, thrilling perfume wafting through his nostrils as his head rested on the soft feather of her shoulder, it was still weird.

And not to mention that her tits were only a few inches away.

"Mitsuru, I can –"

"No, Aragaki." Her voice was firm. "My persona couldn't heal your wounds, so don't be as preposterous to think that you can."

Does she even realize how this looks? As canny as she is, she probably did. But as responsible as she is, she probably didn't care.

With Akihiko scouting ahead, it made it look even worse. Shinjiro started sweating, but it wasn't entirely out of pain. With a glance of those shimmering amber-brown eyes, he knew that Mitsuru noticed. But did she understand what it meant?

"Here – Let's get you through the door. Come on." Now practically lying on top of her as they jimmied through the door, Shinjiro felt his ears grow hot of embarrassment as they slithered into the door together. It felt wrong, and as he found himself pressed against her front, he felt the embarrassment spread to his cheeks. He didn't want to be doing that.

Moving hopefully towards the couch, Shinjiro groaned and winced as Mitsuru gave a quick jerk towards the stairs. He dragged his good leg along and breathed in deeply when they hit the first stair. It was like getting shot directly through the eye. Shit.

"I… I can't…"

With a slight sigh, Mitsuru stopped and then grabbed his injured leg, putting it atop of her own. She then took hold of Shinjiro's waist and literally picked him up for every step. He felt his leg brush against her skirt every time, and he felt her firm, strong hold on his side. As humiliating and degrading that it was for him to need help from some skinny chick, he was impressed, though more uncomfortable.

Reaching the end of the hall, Mitsuru took out her own master key and stuck it into the lock.

"You can do that?" Shinjiro wheezed, starting to feel the combined effect of both Tartarus and his loss of blood.

"Of course I can," she remarked. She weaseled him through the door again. "I can break into your room at any time."

Though she stated it as a fact, and potentially a joke, it made Shinjiro blush. He then blushed even more when he realized what he was blushing about. Why was he so nervous and giddy? He was recalling and fretting over everything like a goddamned thirteen year-old.

Limping into his room, he shrugged out of his filthy peacoat, kicked off the one boot that he could, and then collapsed onto his crumb-infested bed. It hurt, and as he yelped, he heard footsteps come from somewhere behind him. Mitsuru was still there?

"You need to take your other boot off," she ordered, coming to yank it off for him. Shinjiro yelped again, but it caught him by surprise when her breath was right beside his ear. "I need to look at your wound, so I'm going to roll you over."

For some reason, her words made him shiver. He allowed her to take hold of his waist and move him so that he was on his back, looking up at her. She was leaning over the bed, but she wasn't quite on it. Perhaps it was too dirty for her.

"Let's see," she mused, narrowing her eyes and focusing on the crusted surface of his leg. He felt more pain just by looking at it. "That's quite a gash… Could it be… Poisoned?"

"Poisoned?" Shinjiro reached over to cup his wound, the sudden movement causing a bout of dizziness to wash over him. He swayed sideways, but before he could hit the hard surface of the ground, Mitsuru caught him.

Holding his upper body with the strength of hers, she hoisted him back to his bed.

She then stumbled on his kicked-off boot and fell on top of him.

"Mitsuru, how's Shin –"

Looking over the top of Mitsuru's head, Shinjiro saw Akihiko freeze in the threshold of the door, his gray eyes wide but then narrowed to glare directly into Shinjiro's.

Shit.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Nothing happened, Aki."

"Oh sure. She was laying all over you for nothing, then!"

"I was about to pass out, and she caught my fall and then tripped over my boot."

"Oh yeah? And why was the boot on the ground? Stripping our clothes, were we?"

Was he for real? His nostrils flaring, Shinjiro couldn't believe what he was hearing. Pacing around the space near his bed, Akihiko was acting like a ten year-old school boy. And as he continued to pry into the situation, to delve deeper into absolutely nothing, Shinjiro began to wonder about something. Why did Akihiko even care?

"That's enough, Akihiko." Both Shinjiro and Akihiko jumped, and with dread yet a buried sense of pleasure, Shinjiro turned to see Mitsuru stroll into the room. Her arms were crossed against her chest, and her look was deadly. Shinjiro wouldn't want to run across her in a dark alley at night.

"Right. I'll just let you cozy on over to his bed again, then."

"I said that was enough, Akihiko." A look passed between the two, and after a few moments, Akihiko lowered his head.

"I'm gonna go for a walk, then," he puffed, sidestepping her to head towards the door.

As he passed her, Mitsuru put an arm out, brushing against the hem of his sleeve. "You are to go to bed. I daresay we've all had a rough night."

Akihiko grunted, and as he pushed his way out of the room, Shinjiro noticed the hint of concern that flashed through Mitsuru's eyes.

"You worry about him, huh?" He didn't know what made him say it. It kind of slipped out like a drunken statement.

"I suppose," she answered, slowly walking towards him. The concern was back, now clouded with… Guilt? "He just doesn't know how to cool his temper. He's a very passionate person, and I'm afraid that it could get the best of him."

Passionate, eh? That was Castor, and as shocked as Shinjiro was that he had been listening and acting so civilized, he tried to ignore him. Wonder how she knows that he's passionate.

Shinjiro grunted, and he then turned away from Mitsuru to lay back down on his bed, propping his injured leg up on a coffee-stained pillow.

"Are you sure that you'll be alright?"

"Yeah. Leave me alone."

Silence met his words, and though Shinjiro's face was smashed against his damp pillow, he could almost see the quick flash of confusion that must've crossed Mitsuru's porcelain face. He waited for her next words, but after a few intense moments, he heard the opening and closing of a door.

"See what you did?" He grunted aloud, feeling a sudden wave of hatred consume his soul. His daemon stirred restlessly inside of him, but Shinjiro channeled this movement with a force much stronger. "You had to go barging in at the exact wrong moment. You had to screw all this shit up."

I'm merely a shadow of the innermost feelings of your heart.

A wave of shock overcame Shinjiro, but he brushed it off almost immediately. "No one knows what I feel, and no one, especially a goddamned freak of nature, can tell me what to do."

But you'll always hear it. Shinjiro shut his eyes, willing it to stop. He'd never heard it before, and he didn't want to. No matter where you go, Shinjiro, I shall always be here. And I'll always speak the truth. Even if it kills you.

With a bellow of rage, Shinjiro rammed his fists against the head of his bed and thrashed his body against his covers.

A floor above, a redhead sat quietly on the foot of her king-sized bed, and her head was craned tensely in his direction.

Sorry for the hiatus! Please R&R and have a great day.