Witch Hunter Robin Fan Fiction ❯ Silk Gloves ❯ Numb ( Chapter 13 )

No Own. Finals Suck. That is all.

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Immediately upon waking, Sakaki Haruto decided that he could get used to sharing his bed with another person. It was almost like having another pillow - one that lived, breathed, molded exactly to you… he couldn't get over it. For a few minutes, he simply lay there contemplating the more mundane points of his position, shoving thoughts of why he was there away. Studying the way that Miho's face relaxed into peacefulness while sleeping was a better way to wake up than considering how much longer his life would last if SOLOMON found them. Soon though, he found himself getting warm, and knew that if he didn't want to overheat, he'd have to get up. How annoying, he thought to himself, slipping his arm from her waist and slowly sitting up, all you want to do is stay in bed, and the heat gets to you, of all things.

There wasn't any denying thermodynamics, though, and soon he was grudgingly standing, going through his bag, and pulling his new clothes on in the bathroom. He brushed his teeth with the supplies provided by Nagira, and put his hair in some semblance of order. Then he glanced at the bed again. She hadn't moved, besides a slight shifting of her hand. He considered waking her up, but decided that it would be better for her to sleep while she could. The decision left him at odds, leaning against a wall and trying to think of something quiet to do without waking Karasuma. His stomach growled.

Breakfast, of course. He could go and find breakfast. By the time he got back, it would be a more decent time to wake her up. Smiling, he grabbed his shoes and slunk out the door, making sure to also take a key.

~^~

It was nearing eight-thirty when he stepped into the lobby, trying his best not to stand out in the morning rush of business men and women scurrying to meetings and conventions. He wandered around, fairly certain that he had seen a bar or restaurant somewhere.

The bar, it turned out, found him. He saw the tables, but it seemed that the place was closed. However, as he was about to give it up and try to find a vending machine, a voice called out from his left.

“Hey, you!”

Sakaki turned around waryily. A man was coming out of a door, which presumably led to a kitchen of some sort. He was waving a small strip of paper in one hand. Relaxing marginally, Sakaki stuck his hands in his pockets. “Yeah?” he asked, reminding himself that he looked like a surly teenager - not a semi-professional hunter.

“Do you know a tall guy, kinda curly hair?” He spread his hands apologetically, “I thought I saw you come in with him last night, your older brother or something?”

Sakaki nodded. Nagira definitely met the description; the lawyer did rather look like an older brother to him and Karasuma.

The man sighed, relieved. “Oh good. Look, he left this last night at the bar - and I really don't think he'd want to lose it.”

Sakaki took the paper from the man's hands, thinking it was a receipt of some sort, and glanced down at it.

He blinked. Images of Doujima and Nagira, laughing and making somewhat ridiculous faces stared back at him. The paper wasn't a receipt; it was a picture booth reel. For a moment, he couldn't do much else but gawp, and then snapped his head back up to the expectant barkeep. “T-thank you,” he finally forced out, nodding to the man.

“You ok, buddy? That ain't your woman, is it? I didn't get a good look at `er last night.”

Sakaki shook his head vigorously. “No, no, I was just surprised.” He looked down again, this time noticing there was a rip at the bottom, as if one of the pictures had been ripped off. “There aren't any others, are there?”

“Nope,” the man said, “that's all there was. He was lookin at `em awfully hard, though.”

“Yeah,” Sakaki said softly, “yeah, I bet he was.” Turning, he waved to the bar tender. “Thanks.”

“No problem, bud. You tell that friend of yours that she's no good for him if she left. He ought to move on and find another girl- there's plenty of fish in the sea.”

Sakaki looked down at the pictures, shaking his head. “Right,” he said, forgetting the words even as he heard them. He turned to the front desk, shoving the pictures in his pocket.

“Can I help you, Sir?” a helpful attendant asked.

Sakaki paused for a moment, thinking over the complications of what he was about to do. Then he shook himself and said, “Yeah, could you give me the room number of Nagira Syunji? I came in with him last night.”

“Of course, you and your lady friend,” the man said, trying to hide a grin and failing.

Sakaki blinked, and then nodded. So long as he was remembered, he didn't really care how; though the lack of tact on the receptionist's part was somewhat surprising. Must be an Osaka thing, he decided as the desk man gave him the room number. Nodding his thanks, Sakaki grabbed two juices and a few breakfast bars that had been set out near the desk, and headed to the elevator.

~^~

There were no signs of life coming from room 737. For a moment, Sakaki argued with himself about whether to knock and hand the pictures over in person or just slip them under the door. He was sorely tempted to do the latter but felt it would somehow be cowardly. Of course, it would save face for Nagira, but…

He sighed and knocked. Curiosity was getting the better of him. Where was that last picture? He couldn't very well just bring it up in the car - this wasn't every day conversation material. There was a long pause and Sakaki heard shuffling from within the room. Finally, the door opened, revealing Nagira still dressed in his business clothes from the day before. Sakaki firmly schooled his face to neutrality at the lawyer's appearance; he was a bit of a mess, with dark circles under his eyes and the usual wicked grin conspicuously gone.

Sakaki wordlessly handed over the small line of pictures. As he watched, Nagira's face morphed slowly from surprise, to sadness, to resigned amusement. Then he began to chuckle, voice gravelly. Waving Sakaki in, the lawyer turned from the door, barely murmuring `just can't get away from her.'

Sakaki stood just inside the door, feeling like a complete outsider as Nagira sat on the bed and extracted his wallet from his coat, carefully putting the pictures in one of the leather pouches. He then straightened and walked to his suitcase, unzipping a side pocket and rooting around. “Where'd you find `em?” he asked as he pulled out a bottle of pain reliever.

“The barkeep gave them to me,” Sakaki replied quietly as Nagira shook some pills from the bottle. Grunting, Nagira unwrapped one of the hotel glasses and filled it with water, taking a drink and throwing two pills back with what looked like the ease of practice. He coughed once, drank the rest of the water, and looked at the teen. “Thanks,” he said, inclining his head. “I'll be ready to go in half an hour.”

Sakaki nodded his understanding, and opened the door. Halfway out, he turned around. “Where's the last picture?” he asked.

Nagira put his hands into his wrinkled pockets, staring to the side with a very slight smile on his face and thinking of the last picture, when he had caught Doujima in a kiss, and both their eyes were closed. “With her,” he said, and turned to get ready.

~^~

Sakaki wandered back to the room slowly, brooding as he walked. The goodbye he had stumbled on had been passionate, a lot of kissing, some groans and whispered names - all in all, it hadn't shown him the depth of Nagira's relationship with Doujima. There had not been an `I love you' and he hadn't even seen them hold hands. The only reason he had ever known anything was his surprise appearance as she was leaving on her last day. At the time, it had seemed more like the parting of two people who had sex for fun - not lovers of any sort. Of course, as he thought about it, he realized that they themselves probably hadn't realized how close they were to one another. It was just in their natures.

After ten minutes, he reached the door of the room he was sharing with Karasuma, and quietly slipped in. She was awake and standing by the sink with her toothbrush in hand, leaning against the wall with a pensive look on her face. She was so lost in thought that she jumped when Sakaki appeared beside her.

“You ok?” he asked, concerned. He had heard that women disliked waking up alone but his mind had chosen not to remind him until that moment.

She shook her head, “I'm fine. Just…wondering what Michael is doing - what the STN-J is like without us.”

“Quiet, I'm sure,” he said, cracking a smile, “maybe Michael's finally getting some proper time off.”

Her lips curved as she rinsed off her toothbrush and placed it in the backpack beside her. “I hope so. I don't think he's gotten any real time off since he's been there.” She frowned, “It was all either recovery from something, or he was still collared.” There was a pause and then she beamed up at him, a sparkle of humor in her eyes. “Maybe he'll go out clubbing or something.”

For a moment, Sakaki smiled down at her, meaning to reply in kind. Suddenly, though, words failed him, and his smile followed soon after. The image of Nagira, standing with his hands in his pockets and thinking about that last picture - whatever it had been - flashed in his mind and he found himself reaching out to take her in his arms. She went willingly, arms reaching up to link around his neck, but he could feel her surprise in the slight inhalation at his ear.

“Haruto?” she asked quietly after a second's pause.

“He loved her,” Sakaki said into her hair as explanation, knowing that she would understand, “I think he really loved her.”

A pause, and then her arms tightened, her head falling into place on his neck. “I know,” she said softly, “He tries to hide it, but...” She trailed off, lacking words for Nagira's complete and utter sadness, which she only saw in flashes.

“I don't want to hurt him any more,” Sakaki said, voice just above a whisper.

Karasuma sighed. “No, neither do I,” she said, resigned. They were a connection to Doujima and she knew that by acting like a couple, they were only throwing salt onto already painful wounds. Well, she thought, it's only for a few days.

For a long moment, they stood there by the sink, holding each other as if making up for the time that would be lost. Then Sakaki loosened his grip and stepped a little back, smiling at Karasuma. “Nagira said he'd be about a half an hour,” he glanced at the clock embedded in the mirror and frowned, “Twenty minutes ago.”

Karasuma covered a chuckle with one hand, “Well,” she said, going into the room and grabbing her bag, “it's not like we have to pack much. I just have to change.” Then she disappeared into the bathroom. Sakaki stared after her for a moment before realizing that he was looking at nothing but a white bathroom door. He turned to the room, grabbing his discarded sleeping clothes and shoving them unceremoniously into the backpack along with the hair brush and tooth brush. As he straightened, the door opened, and he couldn't help but momentarily admire the short hemline of Karasuma's skirt while she collected her toiletries from the sink. He would have to thank Nagira somehow, he decided. As he tried to figure out how she managed to stay warm, she turned and caught him. He jerked his gaze up in surprise to find her eyebrow quirked, her hand halfway in her bag. He smiled and mutely shook his head, feeling a little silly. She zipped the bag with a smile of her own, saying, “and with five minutes to spare, no less.”

A sly grin snuck across his features and he slid closer, murmuring, “I can think of a good way to spend that,” before swiftly connecting his lips with hers. Her backpack dropped to the floor, one hand burying itself in his hair as their lips moved in tandem. He closed his eyes as her free hand curled at his shoulder, fingers tickling him through the thin shirt.

“Not terribly creative,” she said breathily when he drew back for a moment, “but effective.”

Sakaki raised an eyebrow. “You want me to be creative?”

Karasuma's face became confused for a moment, soon replaced by surprise when he descended again, this time delicately taking her lower lip in his teeth. He kissed her normally again and she gently nipped at his upper lip, trying the game for herself. Kissing became playful, taking turns at biting and nibbling between kisses, and when a knock on the door interrupted, Karasuma broke away and smiled. “I could get used it,” she said and disentangled herself from his arms, kissing him softly once before opening the door.

Nagira stood outside, his coat draped over his arm. Karasuma thought she caught a sad frown on his face as she walked by, but then he looked up at her and flashed his trademark grin. The melancholy retreated behind his eyes again. She nodded, smiling as if she hadn't noticed the frown at all. But it was hard to forget.

~^~

As they checked out and got to the car, Nagira began to dread the drive to Hiroshima. It wasn't as if they were going to make out in his back seat, he told himself. They would probably sit quietly, hands barely touching in a way that seemed even more intimate then being in the middle of screwing each other would.

As he thought about it, unlocking his door, he decided that it probably was. Sex was a matter of “insert tab A in slot B”; emotional involvement was barely required. He knew from experience that screwing the enemy could be fun.

Falling for the enemy was …not.

The frown returned to his face as he sat down and unlocked the doors, staring morosely at the steering wheel. When he looked up again, Sakaki had taken a seat beside him and Karasuma had slid into the back seat. They… weren't sitting together. A rush of gratitude abruptly filled him and he reached down to the keys, starting the car with a smirk. It was something, anyway.

~^~

“It's ok. It's not like I want to hide from you.”

Karasuma held back a sigh as the conversation from the night before replayed in her mind, warring for attention with her still tingling lips. Last night had been yet another reminder of exactly how she had managed to fall in love with Sakaki - despite the fact that they had been forced to hide their relationship and despite the fact that she'd never seen it coming.

She had had relationships, yes, but they had never felt logical in her mind as well as well as right in her heart. They had always been with a completely human man from SOLOMON that seemed pulled in by her mystery and sadness, and then eventually pushed away when the trials of being a witch became too difficult for them to handle. Things had usually ended gracefully, parting as friends when it became clear to one or both of them that he could never get over the simple fact that she was a witch.

As she thought about it, her choice in men had never been very good. Well, logical, anyway. They had all been good men, most certainly. But she couldn't recall ever feeling passion for them. She had kissed them but couldn't remember a time when she had nearly lost her balance from kissing them. It had mostly been a gesture for meetings and partings and she had never felt the absence. She doubted that if any of them had pulled a trick, like Sakaki had that morning, she would have continued - much less played along…and enjoyed it. She shook her head clear - just thinking about it made her shiver pleasantly.

But it wasn't only the fact that she would willingly follow his lead that surprised her. He was easy to talk to and good to listen to as well. In a way, it was incredibly refreshing to be able to talk about her powers with someone that understood. And telling him about her parents had just been so… easy. Natural. The last person who had heard the whole story was Amon and she had been a mess at the time. He had been the one to tell her to stop regretting things she couldn't control - advice that she had been sorely tempted to reciprocate as she came to know him better.

She wondered if she would regret the last few months, with time. Would she regret the coven, leaving Michael, getting Nagira involved? She didn't think she would regret the coven, it just felt… right, even if she was running for her life. As for Michael, she just hoped SOLOMON hadn't suspected him, that he wasn't physically hurt. No doubt he was emotionally bruised; after all, they had left him alone again. She might regret that some day but what choice had they had, really? And Nagira… he could take care of himself, except maybe where Doujima was concerned.

Would she regret Sakaki?

She smiled. No, she could never regret him.

~^~

It was turning out to be a very strange few months, Sakaki thought as the lines on the highway rushed past his window; possibly stranger than anything in his life.

Actually, very likely stranger than anything else. Becoming a witch hadn't been strange - his parents had warned him and showed him that he would have powers when he was older. Hunter training had been along the same lines - he'd been raised expecting such a thing. Coming to the STN-J had been a logical extension of his training. The factory had been- well, it had been sick and strange. But it had still been for SOLOMON and he had still been a hunter. The factory had only been the beginning, though. It was everything else that followed that simply seemed… out of place with the rest of his life.

He had been a SOLOMON baby. It was something akin to military brats; they knew a lot of people in the business, had been conditioned to understand what it was their parents did, and pressed to follow in their footsteps. He'd been glad to go through hunter training - especially once he found out what happened to those that refused. At the beginning, he'd been doing it for his father. When his mother died though, he'd decided that he would become a hunter for her - she'd been proud when he had entered training.

Wonder what mom would think now, he thought to himself. I know dad's probably livid…provided he's heard.

He didn't know whether his father had heard yet about the call for his life, though. He also realized that he didn't really care, either way.

There was one other thing that didn't fit nicely in the puzzle that was his life, one that made the dissolving of his hunter's life worth it.

He'd never been in a serious relationship before. His record thus far had been comprised of three one-night stands and breakfast the morning after. This… thing he had built with Miho was completely out of sorts with that. He wasn't sure what had kept it from sliding into the rut that his past had taken. Maybe it was her. She was exceptional beyond comprehension - older than forty and younger than twenty by turns, she could see the past with her hands…those same hands that he had held as he fell asleep the night before.

Then again, maybe it was him. Before the factory, there was no denying that he'd been stupid. But everything that had happened in the building had plagued him, made him older than his years. He had stopped taking chances - not wanting to force his co-workers through another loss. And while he hadn't had time for girls while he was in Japan, he'd simply lost sight of the appeal of a one-night stand. It just didn't sound as fun as it once had.

Trying to be discreet, he glanced back at Karasuma. She was looking out of her window, chin in one hand and legs tucked underneath her. As if sensing his gaze, she suddenly shifted to return his gaze. As she smiled, Sakaki realized with a start that having her made everything he'd gone through in the last few months worth it.

~^~

The headache Nagira had woken up with was growing worse. Of course, it was completely his fault. He had probably had a few more drinks than was wise - the night before was something of an alcohol-induced blur. He had been drinking whiskey, that much he remembered. The barkeep had been talking at him but he hadn't heard the words. At some point he'd taken the pictures out and stared at them, trying to tell himself to forget her again, like he'd been working on doing before they had shown up.

The irony did not escape him that it was Sakaki who had brought the pictures of Doujima back, just as the ex-hunters had brought thoughts of her back to his mind.

Damn it! He'd been so close to shutting off that valve in his mind that dripped her voice, her skin, her perfume into his thoughts. And then they'd shown up and the spigot had opened all over again. Even numbed with drink and half asleep, when he had lain down in bed the night before, specter hands had roamed across his chest, making his breath stop. But when he'd opened his eyes, there was nothing but his own hands, clenched by his sides and shaking.

And when Sakaki had returned that strip of pictures the next morning, he'd finally understood that two months wasn't near enough to forget someone.

Especially her.

This wasn't going to get any easier, he realized, and he didn't want to intrude on them any longer. When he'd started, he hadn't thought that it would be such a big deal. But having her constantly on his mind was beginning to weigh on him and now he wasn't so sure. He glanced at the clock; they would be in Hiroshima in about two hours. Could he leave them there in good conscience? Yes, and he would find a way to rig some passports for them before he left; he still had some contacts that lived there. That decided, he began to feel better, the headache clearing enough to let him drive in relative peace.

~^~

It was a fairly small hotel by Hiroshima standards but it would do, Nagira decided. The room would be in his name anyway, so SOLOMON wouldn't be able to track them. And it was near the transit station. They could stay here for a day or two and then go to Fukuoka. It was perfect.

Again, they stood on the sidelines as he booked a room - thus missing that he did not reserve a room for himself. Then he turned, handing them their keys and smiling.

“I've got some errands to run,” he said. “Meet in your room about eight?”

Sakaki glanced at his watch and nodded, it was about three thirty. More than enough time to find something for a late lunch - he was starving.

“Rightio - you kids have fun now, hear?” Nagira said jauntily and waved as he turned around, walking away with a light spring in his step. Sakaki and Karasuma stared after him a moment, both taken aback by his sudden mood swing. They glanced at each other and Sakaki shrugged.

“Lunch?” he asked, “I'm starved.”

Karasuma smiled. “Yes, me too.”

Hands barely brushing each other, and not needing anything more, they made their way to the small restaurant attached to the hotel.

~^~

Two freshly made passports resting warmly in his pocket, Nagira sauntered into the hotel lobby and checked the clock. It was seven-thirty - not too bad, he'd have to remember that guy. Fast work, and pretty good, too. Not only that, but he'd been able to cajole some good info out of the guy he'd gone through. All in all, it hadn't been such a bad afternoon. He was in his element here, getting information and using it to save lives.

As he got into the elevator, he sighed. Now he had to tell Sakaki and Karasuma that he was leaving. He had an excuse, albeit a lame one, and he'd reserved their room for another night and found and reserved tickets for the bus - it would be as if he'd never left.

His conscience still nagged at him a bit, like a biting insect at his neck. For once, he ignored it. Sometimes his sanity had to take precedence. They were capable of taking care of themselves, especially with the head start he'd given them.

Finding their room number, he gave the door a smart rap, fully expecting to be stuck waiting for a few minutes; after all, he was early. Instead, Sakaki opened the door after a moment's pause, still clothed in the shirt and shorts Nagira had given him. Nagira had to fight to keep an eyebrow from rising at his quickness - the set up of the equation seemed to have only one outcome - and refrained from commenting as Sakaki showed him in.

The room was bigger than last night's had been. It reminded him more of an American hotel than anything else. A TV sat on a large entertainment center and Karasuma sat at a desk by the window. It looked like she had been doodling on the pad of paper provided. As he cleared his throat, she sat up and put her pen down.

“Here,” he said quickly, handing them each a passport with the Japanese seal embossed on the front. “Just don't ask me where I got `em.”

“But…” Sakaki started, and Nagira shook his head.

“I don't care what anyone told you to do- Japan just isn't that big. If it's a choice between following orders and staying alive, I'd choose life any old day.”

Sakaki nodded, putting the small document in his pocket as Karasuma mused, finally saying, “she did say it didn't matter where we were.”

Nagira's natural penchant for little-known information perked up. “Don't suppose you could tell me who it is that's been running the show, could you?”

They glanced at each other, and Sakaki shrugged. “He'd figure it out, anyway,” he said and Karasuma nodded.

“You heard about the woman who was sent to replace Robin and Amon?” she asked.

Nagira nodded; Doujima had proclaimed the woman a bitch the day the new hunter had arrived.

“She had been working against SOLOMON already when she got here and partnered with Single-Eye, another witch, to awaken seeds.” Karasuma paused, seeing Nagira's surprised look. “Nagira?” she asked.

“You were working with a witch named Single-Eye?” he asked, remembering what his contact had told him about the state of Tokyo's underground.

“Yeah…” Sakaki said slowly, his voice wary.

Nagira sighed. Well damn, he thought, they've got a right to know. “Single-Eye is dead. Someone apparently went to his apartment and found nothing but some blood on the door and a note that said `I'm sorry'.” He paused, watching the news seep heavily into their faces. Suddenly grim, Nagira frowned at the floor, mumbling, “thought you'd like to know.”

“Yes,” Karasuma said softly. Her voice was tear-laden but firm. “Thank you.”

“What about Michael?” Sakaki asked. “Did he make it out all right?”

Nagira nodded. “Yeah, the kid's fine. He's been on the lookout for you two.” He snorted. “Should recruit the guy, he's got a knack for Intel.”

“I'm afraid,” Karasuma said with strained amusement, “that he's already been recruited. Rather forcefully.”

Nagira chuckled, remembering the hacker's surprise appearance in Harry's. “Yeah, I guess. Well, we'll see. After all, look at you two.”

Two small smiles appeared on their faces and Nagira sighed. These two shouldn't be here, he thought. They should be in school, living some semblance of a normal life. Single-Eye should have been an uncle who died of a heart attack, not a spy with a bullet to the brain. Michael should have been the class genius, not the kid left behind. Sometimes he really hated the gene pool for pulling this `witch' crap on people. “Anyway,” he said, “I got a call from Mika. There's a client about to drop a case and another few that are threatening. I've got to get back, if that's all right.”

Karasuma started and glanced at Sakaki. They both knew it was a bald-faced lie; his `real' job didn't much matter to him. He was leaving because of Doujima.

“It's fine,” Sakaki said presently. “I'm sure we'll be ok.”

Nagira let out the breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding. “Ok. Well, you've got your passports, this room is paid for another night, and there're tickets waiting for you at the bus station to Fukuoka.” He looked between the two of them for a moment and sighed. “Well, I've got to leave now if I want to be back in Tokyo before business hours tomorrow,” he said. “Good luck.” In staying alive and staying together, he added mentally and turned, not bothering with any further goodbyes.

They didn't stop him, sensing that he needed to get out, not even getting the chance to throw a `thank you' behind him. He was gone in less than a second. For a moment, Karasuma stared after him, feeling numb. “That's that,” she said faintly, standing and staring at her hands for a moment. There was still grime from the tunnel and stair case smeared across her fingers and suddenly, a shower sounded like a very good idea. She pushed away from the table to grab her backpack, Sakaki turning at the noise. Feeling his eyes on her, she looked up. “Shower,” she said simply, and he nodded, seeming to trust his voice as little as she hers. Grabbing the complimentary soaps, she went in and shut the door.

~^~

Sakaki lay on the bed with his hands behind his head when she came out, dressed in her night clothes. He got up silently when he saw she was done, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. Then he took the bathroom over for himself, the shower starting moments after the door closed.

At first she tried lying down, but soon found that the chaos of her thoughts wouldn't let her stay still. She stood, pacing to the window and pulling the drapes aside with one hand to watch the city lights. Somehow, it had slipped her mind that Single-Eye was in as much danger as they were - possibly more. That SOLOMON would think to hunt him…she just hadn't contemplated it, though it made more sense than them hunting her. But she had just assumed he would get away, disappear - just as he had when the STN-J had hunted him.

That had been a more than half a year ago. And now he was really dead. Hunted. She stared out the window, the hand that gripped the drape threatening to cramp. Hearing about Single-Eye's death brought to mind everything else she had left in Tokyo. Her apartment along with what memoirs of her life she had had,. Someone would probably wonder what happened to the Emergency room worker eventually, either because she didn't pay rent or she wasn't there when they needed first aide advice. They might go into her apartment, look for a clue. The only things of interest they would find would be a mailing address to Doujima in Europe, a few pictures, and her broken Orbo amulet. Her hunter's certificate was in a safety deposit box. That was all right, she didn't want it anyway.

But she had still left it. Left everything. It was a very empty feeling.

A door opened and shut, and Sakaki's arms suddenly slid around her from behind. Dropping the curtain, she turned to bury her face in his shoulder, throwing her arms around his neck. No tears came but the need to hold him, and be held in return, to know that the person that mattered had stayed with her, was overwhelming. Murmuring her name, he planted a kiss in her hair, hands stroking her back.

“It just didn't seem possible,” she said quietly.

“I know,” he said. “I knew the chance was there, but it didn't seem like it'd actually happen.”

“What do you think he was sorry for?”

Sakaki sighed; he had wondered the same thing. “I don't know.” His hands stilled, “But I don't think it was for joining Kenshio.”

She nodded, slowly drawing back and sitting on the bed. Her thoughts had slowed, leaving in their wake a sudden exhaustion. Sakaki lay down after turning out the lights and she moved within arms reach, the shyness of the night before forgotten. “Do you think it was for being caught?” she asked as she settled in his arms.

He was silent for a moment, a finger moving idly on her shoulder. “No,” he finally said. He looked down and smiled sadly. “He told me once that he didn't care whether he lived or died. I think someone made that last part up.”

Karasuma nodded, closing her eyes. “I hope so,” she said. “I don't like thinking he died feeling sorry about something.”

“Yeah,” Sakaki agreed and then leaned down, briefly pressing his lips to hers. “Good night.”

There was a slight pause, and then she moved to return the kiss, lingering just a bit longer than he had. “Good night,” she said, and then, quietly, “I love you.”

For a moment, he forgot to breathe from hearing her say it so firmly, when he could actually listen to her instead of being half scared to death by a background of explosions. Then he felt her hand move, and inhaled. “I love you,” he replied, and closed his eyes, repeating the phrase over and over in his mind until he dropped off to sleep.

~^~

Thanks to Petite Hikari and MsCongeniality (I really hope I spelled those right…) as the l33t Betas.

Now. I know, you all are going “But you said you posted this here for the lemon! Where is it?!”

Er…it isn't done yet. -.- I swear, it'll come!

er…

*sigh*