CHAPTER 90

I do not own skip beat. Yoshiki Nakamura does.

Storm aftermath.

Footfalls. Huge conundrum of familiar loudness an inch away behind a closed door outside. A cabin. The door's handle turning. Voices shifted to apologetic murmurs.

An opening. A breach between in and out. Cold seeping in the cosiness of a warm cocoon.

A bang. A kick in the door sending it wide open into the opposite wall.

But no one is stepping in.

There are shuffles, mumbles and orders.

The soundless walk of strong uselessly infinite legs as they appear, covered in snow. Followed by a long-muscled chest owned by none other than their giant of a friend.

Face as white as the snow if not for the blue tone of it. Expression is grim but not murderous. Worry is there. Anger is still there. And it is so much improved. Light has returned and replaced the smoky deadly shadows that had filled his eyes only a few hours prior.

None of that, magnets their stares and reliefs as much as what they see, bundled up in his embrace. Carefully held in his big hands and covered in at least four covers.

The feminine svelte figure indolently curled up against their friend. Lethargic, the form is unconscious. Hopefully sleeping. Their friend's gaze lands down on the sweet form, and reflexively, they see his grasp fold up tighter, pressing her closer, higher. Their friend's eyes close – eyelids quaking in their shutter – as he holds her, the painful comfort painting his face in mixed softness and agony, overbearing for many hearts present in the room. Their hearts twisting in an ache that wasn't theirs, and mirroring a thousand, maybe, of what their friend might be feeling. The appeasement in their friend nearly too much to bear. As if the relief was making him collapse inside with its brutal power rather than to be of any alleviation.

It takes some time before he finally opens his eyes. And when he does, it is only to observe the light rising of her breath as her chest leisurely moves up, and softly down. They can see how deeply he needs the reassurance. Then, he starts walking once more, standing strong and stable again under eyes that beg for answers about her state.

Shadows of two other men enter the cabin but not one person pays attention to them as they close the wooden door.

Worry and questions are on every lip, in every gesture, in every mannerism; in every mind. But no one is talking. They are frozen in silence. Waiting. Staring.

He is not looking at them. Not looking willing to be responsive in the slight. But they can see the lingering anger. Despite the found solace from before.

He is looking at them as if he doesn't know if he can trust them anymore. They feel lost, they feel hurt. Yet, every one of them can understand in this instant.

He is not angry at them. He is not staring at anyone with that dark boiling bloodlust of his. Not anymore. Only the wall receives his anger. The main responsible isn't there.

And they know. He doesn't hold them accountable. He knows. But it is as clear as day light. He wants to put a barrier between her and them. He is turned slightly to the side. Giving them half his profile, half his back. He is wary. Of them. To her.

Trust remains unbroken. Towards them. But he is shielding her. Still. It can't be helped, and they understand. Some of them – the ones that know him best – can guess the guilt, lying just under the surface. The feeling of having failed her, of being responsible, for it happening. For everything happening. They just know, by now. The slightest mistake, and he is all too ready, diving in to shoulder it like he was failing them all. Bearing it all on his broad, broad shoulders. Imperceptible for most, catchable by only a few. In his protectiveness over them, sometimes, over her, all the time.

But everyone in the room can perceive it. He is a soldier. The guard of every cell of her. Body, heart and soul. Were anything threatening to bring harm upon her, he would shred every flesh, every piece of menace. That what his tense shoulders, his dark intimidating back, are telling them all.

But then,

A moan. A snuggle. A stretch.

From the form in his arms.

And suddenly, like spring sprouting throw evaporating snow, the cold demeanour of their friend is melting. Shoulders release, back loosens. Her softness and life against him breaking his resistance and bringing back human emotions on his face. Even the ghost of a smile shines through his facade as the mumble of his name is heard as the young woman emerges from a slumber, surely amply deserved after her experiences.

The amber of eyes they saw their friend tumbled into by far too often catches the light, and everyone get a proper glimpse of her. And of the weariness stretching down her expression despite the bravado of a smile she still shows them as she figures out her surroundings. An embarrassed tiny greeting breached her lips, and some more warmth glows with the tone of her eyes, through tiredness and all.

But no matter the ray of braveness and brightness she can be, no one can escape the instant thought as they see her poor beaten state. Close.

How close it had been. How close they had been to get a far more macabre end. How tiny it would have taken to lose her. To lose them both.

They hear her asking to be put down, feel his reluctance.

She wins, obviously, and he puts her down. She wobbles as her feet touch the plush carpet but their friend's huge arm wraps around her waist in a dead lock before anything can happen. Concern and irritation are on his tired face, confronted to her stubbornness. There is no fighting. He just picks her back up and drives a fast step to the fire hearth in the living room, her usual protests when he gets overprotective are barely whispers they can't even make out as he put her down softly by the chimney. He adds a cover, and that's when some of them take actions. One is making hot food. Another is prepping hot drinks. A last one pouring a hot bath. Anything, as long as it's hot and comforting.

They work without a sound, still unable to break the oath of silence that fell upon them.

Time passes, fuming mug of cocoa is served, followed by hot potage and more substantial food. And it's only when her face recovered – in spite of the tired complexion – a perky pink hue, that bath is decreed. The fact she doesn't mumble an usher of protestation gives her away on how far gone she is into exhaustion. Acutely aware of this – they are sure of it – their friend snuggles her close to him again in a careful embrace picks her up once more. He stands nearly delicately for him and steps over the still silent circle of friends that had gathered all around them, his own cover slips down his shoulders as he moves. Safely secured in his arms, she is dozing a little on his shoulder as he carries her up stairs in new efficiency of soft quiet stride. Only glancing once towards Momose, inquiring she would go with them.

They stop at a door and were you in the eyes of Momose, you would see the conflict seizing him as he freezes. Rigid and unwilling to move, to do anything he would have in mind. The struggle of letting go – if only for a little while – at this moment, is tearing him apart. Bringing back the fear and the sorrow like as many demons from the hidden forsaken boxes. The pain is real and his tense muscles refuse to bulge, to ease their binding from around the form in his hold. It's overbearing to watch.

Three fingers on his left shoulder to attract his attention. A kind reassuring smile given to him. Then, the seal is broken and the first few words fall from the woman by his side. A whispered promise.

"I will not let her leave my sight."

His eyes search a second for the truthfulness of this, before closing.

He puts her down. His arms shake as he lets go, pulling his treasure out of her sleepiness. The young woman obediently but drowsily enters the bathroom, followed by Momose, and the door closes.

A shudder of a breath comes out before a palm is placed on each side of that door. Calm makes its return, then. And the form won't move from its stand until that door open again.

When the door eventually opens, a form comes out, looking both more tired but also more awake. She is clothed in a thick soft PJ, her hair is washed and dried up, her cheeks are rosy. She greets the standing immobile figure with a soft hi and a refreshing smile. The man takes a step back to look at her, and she grins. The exhaustion is seeping out from her pores but she looks more like her.

"I'm fine."She says in a kind but indulging tone of the one that said those words in repeat.

The strain on his traits partially disappears, replaced by a more genuine expression. He grabs her back in his arms, squeezing. She squeaks at the tightness and asks to be put down, only making the man smile more.

She rubs his back in more reassurance until he releases her. The other woman is forgotten as the man mostly commands the tired figure to go in bed.

She doesn't resist and pads her way to it with her guarding dog of a companion. He watches her every step, making sure she isn't stumbling and can stand on her feet all the way to her room. One arm at the ready if she was to only wobble half an inch. When she reaches her bedroom, she pushes the door open and he follows her in. Another door closes.

§§§

Kyoko turned back to him, puzzled but mind fuzzy from the overtired feeling.

"What – ," she attempted, "are you doing?"

He just looked at her with an intense expression, back against the door frame.

"I'm not leaving you."He stated with absolute conviction.

"What?" She rubbed her eyes, he didn't make sense. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not leaving you." He repeated. "I'm not leaving you."

Kyoko rubbed at her whole face, trying to pull back some sensation, some clarity in her overdone mind. She took a profound breath, feeling the numbness of her muscles after the extreme and repeated changes of temperature, fluffiness of her pyjamas nearly rubbing her wrong over the sensitivity of nerves awoken after the slumber the cold had put them in.

He was leaning, no, spread against that door as if he had sunk an anchor into it. His tall figure was a little crouched, so unlikely of him compared to his usual perfection.

When she was looking closer, he looked just a little prostrated.

She made a step forwards, something was weird. He was acting off.

Her feet led her to him before she had grasped the thought of joining him, and she took his fist inside her fingers.

"Ren…"

He was making himself sick again.

He had to stop. Nothing of this had been his fault. And she was safe and sound only thanks to him.

Her palm found his cheek, grazing with indulgence, making him see, look at her. His gaze avoided hers, and she spoke.

"Hey…"

"Ren, come on."

"Look at me." She told him again.

Eventually, he lifted his stare to meet her soft one, letting her see, grasp his haunted expression. Next instant, he was resting his face in her hand like it could support his head. His gaze, his head, his whole being felt like it was collapsing inside that hand of hers, lassitude imbibing his whole shape, mixed with the softer texture of a feeling she couldn't place. He rubbed his cheek against her hand and she wondered how it was still so cold. They had been back for a while now. She thought. Her sensation of time was a bit blurry right now with how dizzy she felt and the moment she spent sleeping. Still.

Then, he lifted back his eyes to her. Once more.

Like lightning. The desperation that filled his eyes sprinkled with a longing seeming like a plea, all shaped in an intense buzzing of silent energy.

"I'm not leaving, Kyoko." He murmured in her hand. "I'll sleep wherever you want. In the armchair, on the floor by your bed, wherever. But I'm staying near you."

Her lips tilted open, searching for what she wanted to say but failing. Witnessing the turmoil inhabiting him, recognizing the urgency of his demand, those were simple things. But to understand the core of the issue, being able to do more; she couldn't. Maybe she was too tired, maybe she was too confused, maybe it wouldn't make sense, even in the mornings. Maybe it was too personal for him. It didn't matter.

She could only reply to this one way.

"Okay."

His shoulders sagged as the intensity left him, and his eyes sang their gratitude towards her with a mellowness that would have petrified her and drove her to more despair were it not for her exhaustion.

She took him in her arms, hoping a hug would be of any comfort.

"I don't know what still worrying you," she mumbled, "but we are fine. We are both okay. Relax."

He returned her hug as he grabbed at her back so strongly she knew it would add a bruise to her new collection. But she refused to push him away. He needed it. She needed it.

"I'm not letting you sleep on the ground or in the chair, though." She said in his neck, trying to muster a firm tone but only got out a yawn.

"Wherever is fine." He repeated. "As long as I can be near you."

Her heart pulsed painfully, singing at his words. Even when her mind knew better. Why did those magical words needed to be wrapped in so many thorns?

She rubbed at his back.

"Come on. Let's go to bed." She said. "I'm too tired to talk."

She bet he was too because he didn't protest or say anything more. He followed her as she turned around and they clothed themselves into the warm cocoon of the covers. And under them, he held her tight against him. And she let him. She didn't care anymore what was what. Her mind was a blank. Her body, an aching mess. She had spent every last drop of energy. Trying to push him away, to keep some distance was beyond her force. In her thoughts – at this instant – limits and boundaries made no sense. Not anymore. And she was way too happy to be in his arms.

She didn't want to think, ponder, worry, question. She wanted nothing of that on this moment. Just sleep, and find some solace in the soft spot against his chest she nuzzled unconsciously, just above his heart. Surrounded by him, basking in the comfort of his scent; that was all she needed, all she wanted.

Drained beyond expression, slumber took them before they could notice.

The vivid shine of the lights of the early afternoon woke her up as it pierced through the curtains and washed upon her face. The debilitating sore and worn she felt in her muscles confused her as her brain refused to emerge from the webs of Morpheus. She could not remember the last time pulling out of sleepiness had been this hard. The sweet cocoon of heat she felt herself surrounded by, was already lulling her back to unconsciousness.

Yet, the persisting snugness she felt encased in – that feeling of sweet cotton hardness – it rubbed its oddity at her senses until she popped open her eyes. Sensations shot from everywhere as her mind tried to catch up through the last threads of confusion. Tough yet perfectly supple to serve as a pillow muscle under her right cheekbone. The firm cushioned grips squeezing her middle. One smooth pressure under her breast area she finally internalized was a bicep and forearm, the other secured around the whole of her hips. Hands that felt like they travelled miles of her body with how much they covered in her back, at her side.

It felt like those arms folded over and around her as close of a clutch as it could be possible.

Her senses done with awakening, his scent washed over her and the sooth of the situation infiltrated in her.

She found out one of her hands was laying above his own, the one linked to the arm clutching under her bust. Thoughtlessly, lazily, she let her fingers borrow the reverse road, tracing back that wrist bone of his, before subconsciously gliding up above the clothed arm. Emotion clogged at her throat as her senses pulsed, her body arching a little more here, a little less there. To get every last drop of contact it could.

She tenderly caressed and wrapped her fingers around that strong arm holding her so dearly at that second, and closed her eyes in a tight shut, dreaming. Wishing against her best senses, against her reasoning and logic, that world rules could bend and grant her that one desire. That one greedy wish.

She could only assume she had fallen back asleep, rocked by the soft warmth Ren's body let out and his low breathing, because a sensation on the side of her forehead drew her out of it, and she cracked open her eyes, noticing she was now on her back when her gaze met the wooden beams of her room's ceiling.

She groaned a little, dropping her arm over her eyes, reminded of the sore feels in her body when she stretched her back.

"Good afternoon." A low rumble of a voice said on her side, the tickling rough tone familiar and so pleasant to her ear. She smiled drowsily, turning her face to the side he was.

"Hi."She said in all the briefness of a mind stiff turned off.

He had an odd expression on his face for second, as if he was witnessing something else, an echo of a dream, before he grinned back, his adoring concern making day on his traits.

"How do you feel?"He asked.

"Sore and tired. But all good." She smiled, reassuringly but didn't move. Her will refused to rise to the surface.

"You can feel your whole body? No numb feeling anywhere?"He asked with insistence, as if a blue leg would fall from the bed anytime now.

But yes, she could feel everything. All too much even. Between the soreness of her muscles and his tight warmth. She nodded, though.

"I'm fine, I promise. I'm just feeling lazy moving and a little sore from all that walking in mountains of snow." She mumbled, hiding her gaze away from his under a yawn as she dropped back an arm on her head.

"No fever?" He questioned again, dropping his fingers on her forehead. You sure we shouldn't call a doctor to check?"

She waved his concern away before turning around. Trying to savour the last drop of this soon ending proximity while she could but needed to stop staring into his eyes. He had removed his contacts sometime during the time they slept. Diving into the green eyes was too dangerous.

"Positive. I'm just feeling lazy. Give me some more time and I will get up."

He tightened back his hold around her waist and laid back down close to her. "That can be arranged." He said with a chuckled.

Oi!

He was doing this like it was nothing. They weren't exhausted anymore. Was he trying to push her into a frenzy? It was enough when she had to repress all of this under normal circumstances but if he started acting like this, she was really going to lose it.

She tapped his arm lightly, feigning nonchalance.

"Hey, you can get up and have some coffee or something. I'll join you and the others in a bit."

"Are you shunning me away?"

Why could she literally hear the fake sulking pout in his voice? Damn him.

"No, but – "

"Then, snuggles it is."He said, wrapping back his arms around her.

Whattt?!

She stayed frozen. Seriously? He was cuddling her. Not because of circumstances. Not because she was sick or because they were exhausted.

But on his own volition? What was happening? She was confused. Happy, overwhelmed, excited but terribly confused.

"Wh-what are you doing?"She asked as she turned around to face him, and to her shock he kept her close, held in his arms as she did so.

"Being lazy with you."He replied with his own yawn, laying his head on her left shoulder and sending tingles all the way down to her left fingers. Why did he have to be so cute? So cuddly? It was turning her feelings to mush. He looked so at ease and happy right now, lying on her shoulder and close to her. With his bed-hair mess and soft breath tickling the side of her neck. Why couldn't it be more? How could she feel such a proximity, such an intimacy with him, and it being nothing more? Yet, her mind knew. She dropped her thoughts. "I searched for you all night, I'm allowed to be a little worn-out myself, I think." He mumbled, though his words contrasted with how content he looked right now.

That made her pause. As her brain caught up with some of the events that happened yesterday.

"That's right. You went out in the night and the storm…" That storm had been terrible and only got worse later. She had only been lucky because she found shelter in the forest, under the trees, where the big trunks sliced through the wind and the storm and protected her. But he had been there, in the maelstrom of the wind, of the cold and the snow, in the middle of the night, searching for her. He could have… It was mad. He was mad. Totally and fully insane.

She sprang from the bed as realization continued to hit her. She knew how close she had escaped it, but for him to risk his life recklessly like that. Useless worry, anger, emotion from him doing such a thing, it all boiled inside of her like a raging earthquake before she exploded at him.

"Why did you do this?!"She shouted at him as he rose to sit on the bed too. He looked at her with confusion before she continued. "Why did you go into the storm?! Risking your life for nothing!"

She saw the moment anger filled his eyes and as his fingers fold around the bed cage, making it wince. His tense frame shifted as his gaze drifted sombrely to the side. Yet, she couldn't stop.

"Last night… There was an avalanche and the snow…"

She rubbed at her face as her mind provided her with far too much accuracy and details more nightmarish outcomes than the precedent, rolling around in her thoughts second before.

"You could have been stuck under snow! You could have lost yourself or have developed hypothermia… You could have – … You could have – …"

Her mind reeled at the idea and her hands shook. She felt she was going to throw up.

Ren snapped at her. Rising to his full height with an anguish and furore she did not get, but was too focused into her own turmoil to try to analyse.

"So what! I was supposed to stay here?! Waiting without doing a thing! In hope you would be okay when you might have been the one meters under the snow, freezing?!" He growled.

"You would have preferred that?!"

"YES!"She snapped back.

He swore and sent his fist flying against the wall to the side and the wooden plank fissured a little.

"DON'T ASK ME THAT!" He howled at her. "EVER. Ask me anything. Everything. Anything you want, it's yours! But don't ask me that. Because I wouldn't be able to." He followed in a softened tone, and her whole being shook at the words he was sprouting while worries for potential futures – What he might or might not do, what risk he might take – fear cracking at her heart.

"Knowing you are in danger," he started back in a painful whisper, "and not doing anything – … I couldn't. So, please, don't ask me that."

Her own fist hit his chest, full of her fear, and she grabbed his shirt in anguish, trying to shake him off this nonsense.

"Are you completely out of your mind?! YOU COULD HAVE DIED!" She screamed at him, harshly pulling at her hair with the distress she was feeling. "Going into that storm like that!"

"SO COULD YOU!"He snapped back once more. "Do you think I would have been okay with that?!"

"But I was already outside! It's not like it was your fault! Why didn't you prioritize your own fucking life?!"

"BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT YOU DID MAYBE? You went out too. Thinking I was outside and not even checking to be sure first if it was the case!"

"YES, I KNOW! But I was worried."

"So was I."He growled back but she ignored his comment.

"I know it was stupid. But you should still have prioritized your safety! No need to add one more person at risk, just because I made a mistake."

He sighed deeply and placed both of his huge palms on each side of her head, grabbing lightly at it. He looked at her like a mad man, the eye crazy.

"I'll start putting my own safety first when you do it for yours too!"

She scoffed at that attempt.

"That is not the same."

He narrowed his eyes at her, looking suspicious.

"How so? I find it very fair for my part."

"It's different." She said again, not wanting to precise.

"It's the same."

"No, it's not."

"It is."She said again.

"It is not!"He cut angrily once again, "Unless you consider my life more important that yours."

"YES, DAMN IT! Of course it is!"

She sighed, realizing oh-so-well he wouldn't like the sound of that.

"You can't be fucking serious?!"He asked after a prolonged silence.

She angled her head to the side as best as she could in the position she was in. There was no point denying it.

Another quiet tense moment followed.

Then a loud sound came out as he growled at her. Quite literally.

"Goddammit Kyoko! You are driving me nuts!"

She shrugged it off, feeling her cheeks still held by his hands rub against the heart of his palms that felt both soft and rough at the same time. Why did she have to notice things like that in this sort situation? So annoying. He was. The matter was the same, anyway. It wouldn't change her opinion.

"You are insufferable. You cannot think that way! Your own life should come first!"He said then and she refrained calling him a hypocrite and telling him she had said this just a minute ago. She shrugged again but refused to look at him or say a word, it would unveil too much. And, she was pissed off, anyway. Kinda? She understood his position, and now that she was coming to her senses, she could somewhat get they had acted the same reckless way – though, for obvious different reasons – , but she still couldn't approve of putting her first. She crossed her arms, taking an appropriate stance. There, she looked pissed. Internally, she sighed, she was so failing at it.

"Fuck."He commented and she couldn't help a tiny smile to bloom on her face, even if she hid it fast. She had never seen him swear so much before today. Even when he was playing BJ. It was kinda funny and cute.

More quietness followed and she wondered when he would give up when he suddenly let out a groan.

"Fine, suit yourself. But I won't listen to any of this no more." He said. "If I only accept to consider that you are unable to see how precious your life is – … I'll turn mental."

She opened her mouth and closed it. He looked tired. There was no need to fight, really. She knew they wouldn't come to an agreement on this.

"That's what I thought."He said with a sigh, and suddenly took her into his arms, holding her right against him. "Cling to this nonsense, I'll cling to mine." He grumbled in a slightly calmer tone.

Her mind stopped.

"What? That's not wh – "

"I-do-not-care."He very carefully enunciated, nose close to hers. "Since you cannot treasure your own life to its fair value, someone must do it for you."

She was ready to object but her world tumbled sideways all of sudden, and –

"You – … Wahhhhhh!"

She was hoisted up on a large shoulder, and she huffed out as her front hit slightly his back before he stabilized her quickly.

"What are you doing? Put me down!"She protested as he began to talk.

"No. It's punishment for your words."

"Punishment? But – … Wait, where are we going?" She asked then, when she got the sense he was moving and getting them out of the room.

"Downstairs for breakfast. You need food and your strength to recover."He said curtly as he started to climb the steps down, and clearly he was still pissed.

"Put me down. I can walk."She said but he didn't even reply.

She hit his back lightly, annoyed again.

"Damn you!"She growled, frustrated by the whole situation, and her inability to make it better right away.

"Right back at you."

When they reached the ground level, she asked to be let down again, and he obliged this time. Placing her softly on the ground. He looked at her and she saw frustration, annoyance, worry, sadness but also some affection that was still there. Despite what a pain-in-the-ass she had been for him the whole last day, she couldn't help the feeling of relief that submerged her as she let out a breath she had held since the moment they started to argue. Why did she hate so much to fight with him?

She sighed at herself.

She knew why.

"Angry much?"He inquired in a somewhat remorseful tone, yet not all.

She eyed him from the side, knowing what she would find, and the corner of her lips tilted. God, was she failing.

"Nah. Frustrated at you, at most."She commented.

"Same."

Her face stretched into a full smile. Damn it all. He was too skilled.

He gave her a brief side-hug, knowing peace was reestablished.

When they entered the kitchen, however, another kind of scene was playing out. And sure enough, peace wasn't the term to describe it.

§§§§§

PS: Hello everyone. Lord has it been a while. Sorry, very sorry. It took me longer I expected to recover from covid. And after that my health and sleep were in chaos again. But here is the new chapter. I hope you will appreciate it and that people are still interested in reading what will happen next. Lots of kisses to you all. I hope you are having a great summer, and that you are not having too bad of a time with the heat and the drought.

Let's stay positive and try to enjoy our lives, everyone. Because what else can we do, sometimes? But to hope for the best, and to give love and warmth to ourselves and the ones close to us, when things are tough.

I'm already working on next chapter but again, no promise when it will get out. As I can never know what life plotted for me.

Also, can you believe we are at 90 chapters? This fic is really becoming a monster.

Kisses again.

Mimagfan.

AUTHOR OUT.