#06 - SANCTUARY
This one concludes my series of Slam Dunk vignettes. I didn't want a pairing at first, but then I decided, what the heck? These might be the last SD fanfics I ever wrote.
Summary: The battle-weary warrior meets the gentle healer. Tale as old as time.
SANCTUARY
by サンテラ
Rain drummed against the windows, contrasting with the quiet within Mitsui Hisashi's home. He sat hunched on the couch, nursing a throbbing jaw and a bruised ego. The fight had been ugly—a brawl sprawled outside the court, leaving his reputation a little more tattered than his knuckles.
"You really need to stop getting into these things," Haruko said softly. The first aid kit lay open between them, her movements gentle as she dabbed antiseptic on his split lip.
He winced, the sting a welcome distraction from the deeper ache. "They started it," he mumbled, the familiar defiance dulled by exhaustion.
Haruko sighed. It was the same story, the same stubborn insistence that he was always the victim. Yet, as she met his stormy brown eyes, there was a hint of something else… a vulnerability he usually kept buried beneath bravado.
Can you… just for tonight…" she began, then paused. Mitsui looked at her, the challenge fading from his face. "Just… let yourself be taken care of?"
A flash of surprise crossed his features, then the usual mask slid back into place. But his silence was a quiet kind of consent. Haruko leaned closer, her touch feather-light against his swollen cheekbone.
The room seemed to shrink, the rain and the echoes of the outside world fading. His world, so often filled with noise and confrontation, was distilled to this simple act of kindness. Her fingers traced the cut on his brow, and the tension coiled in his shoulders eased slightly.
"You don't always have to hit back," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Mitsui's hand shot up and hesitated before settling lightly over hers. It was heavy and battle-worn, a contrast to her own delicacy. "Then what's left?" he asked, his voice rough.
"You." Her gaze met his, steady and unwavering. "You're enough."
A long moment stretched between them. Then, something in him seemed to break and settle simultaneously. He nodded, the movement barely perceptible.
He didn't say 'thank you'. There were some things Mitsui still couldn't express. But an unspoken understanding bloomed as the rain pattered on, and Haruko continued to tend to his wounds with quiet care.
As Haruko finished wrapping the last bandage, Mitsui heaved a weary sigh. Leaning back against the couch cushions, he felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him—the lingering adrenaline crash from the fight now mixing with the strange, soothing balm of her care.
She moved to collect the first aid kit... a pulse in his temple made him wince. He shut his eyes, the rhythmic patter of the rain blurring into a hazy buzz around him.
"Maybe you should lie down for a bit," Haruko suggested, her voice laced with concern.
Mitsui forced his eyes open, finding her standing beside him. "Can I stay... for a while?" Her voice was soft and slightly hopeful.
His face softened, and a gentle warmth spread through it. Without hesitation, he moved to shift the pillows and patted the couch beside him.
Haruko stretched out, her body settling into the surprisingly comfortable cushion. She draped a light throw over Mitsui, and the warmth seeped into his tired muscles. He drifted into a fitful half-sleep, fragments of the fight replaying in his mind.
Suddenly, he felt a gentle weight against his side. He opened his eyes to see Haruko nestled next to him, her head resting on his shoulder, her breathing soft and even.
His heart gave a strange jolt – not the adrenaline-fueled surge of a brawl, but something different and unexpectedly tender. A ghost of a smile crept onto his face.
"Hey, who's being taken care of here?" he whispered, his voice laced with a playful amusement that lacked any real bite.
With a soft sigh, Haruko shifted slightly closer. "Maybe... we both are," she murmured, her voice barely audible.
The warmth of her, her quiet words, and the surprising vulnerability he sensed in her made something inside him shift. A sense of peace settled over him, pushing away the lingering edge of conflict.
His playful tone faltered slightly. "Haruko?"
"Hmm?" She looked up at him, her eyes soft and warm in the dim light.
The closeness, her touch, and how she looked at him all stirred a sense of intimacy he hadn't felt before. A wave of tenderness washed over him as he hesitated, then reached out to brush a stray strand of hair away from her face.
"Hisashi," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.
The familiar name, spoken with such unguarded affection, echoed deep within him. Its warmth was different from the heat of battle, and it spread through him, displacing the lingering chill of his chaotic world.
His smile widened, and he tightened his arm around her, pulling her closer.
"Yeah," he murmured, the word thick with unspoken meaning, "maybe we are."
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