Shiinahkz

Homura’s pupils dilated. His voice caught in his throat. His body turned to ice.

Right before his eyes, the girl lay still—eyes shut tightly, blood trailing from her temple, her body limp, unmoving.

“She protected her friend… took the hit meant for them. Wanderer struck her down.” The voice echoed faintly in Homura’s ears, drowned in the high-pitched ringing that began to consume his senses.

“You’re allowed to get hurt—but you must return to me safely.” The words he once spoke to her now felt like a curse, broken and discarded.

“Shiori.” Her name finally escaped his lips—shaky, broken, soaked in disbelief.

“Reclaim this heart and end our everlasting bond.” That memory surged like a blade in his mind. The moment he lost her once. The moment she left a wound so deep, it still bled within him to this day. The memory that branded his soul with eternal grief.

“Shiori.” With trembling steps, he moved closer.

“Shiori…” His hand reached for her cheek, and in that instant—a violent wave of déjà vu crashed over him.

He remembered the cold. He remembered touching her lifeless face once before. No… Not again. He couldn’t endure that again. He wouldn’t endure that again. Not the same loss. Not the same centuries-old sorrow.

“Shiori.” His voice now cracked with rage and helplessness, as if naming her could pull her back, as if it could undo the damage. He wanted to curse the world. Rip apart anyone—anything—that dared to hurt her.

“Homura…” His heart quaked. Her voice, faint—fragile—trembled in the air as her eyes fluttered open.

“Shiori.” He immediately grasped her hand. His chest heaved—he could barely breathe. She was still here. She was still holding on.

“Homura, don’t cry.” She smiled weakly, brushing his tears without realizing how they’d already streamed down his face—like a silent storm carving rivers on his cheeks.

“Why don’t your tears turn into pearls?” She teased with a feeble smirk, her voice barely a whisper.

Homura gave a broken smile in return, filled with love and guilt. He pressed her blood-stained hand against his cheek, not caring what marred his skin.

“Should I give you one of my scales as a weapon… so you never have to bleed like this again?” He breathed, cherishing the warmth of her hand—the warmth he had nearly lost.

“Mmm…” She let out a soft laugh—delicate and fleeting—before wincing as pain stabbed through her again.

“No more talking,” Homura whispered, voice thick with emotion.

“Don’t move. Just rest… heal… and come back to me—whole.” He leaned down, eyes filled with quiet desperation, and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead—as if trying to kiss the pain away, even just for a moment.

000

“So? Is there anything you’d like to explain?” Homura sat beside Shiori’s hospital bed, arms crossed tightly over his chest, eyes fixed sharply on her bandaged head.

“Mmm? Explain what?” Shiori turned her gaze away, nerves knotting her throat.

“Explain how someone could show up—bleeding everywhere.” Homura leaned closer, eyes narrowing, making her shrink beneath his stare.

“Haha… sorry.” She lowered her head in defeat, abandoning any attempt to defend herself.

“I was only trying to—”

“Protect your teammate without thinking about the consequences,” Homura cut her off, swift and merciless.

“Sorry…” Her voice softened as her eyes fell to her lap. She didn’t dare meet his gaze.

“Do you not realize how dangerous that was?” His voice now edged with something sharper—fear disguised as anger.

“Listen, I’ve never stopped you from helping others. But if you keep getting hurt like this… should I start forbidding it?” His sarcasm didn’t hide the tremble buried beneath.

“No, you don’t have to. Next time… I’ll be more careful.” Finally, she raised her head, her eyes meeting his.

“Homura, I—” She couldn’t finish. Homura suddenly lunged forward, pulling her into his arms, holding her tight but tender, afraid to hurt her, afraid to let go.

“Don’t ever do something that could make me lose you,” he whispered—his voice low, heavy with unspoken fear and unshakable sincerity.

“Homura…” Her breath caught. His words cut through her like a blade made of grief and love. She could feel it—he was scared. Terrified. He couldn’t handle losing her again.

“I’m sorry. Next time, I’ll be more careful. I promise I’ll return to you—safe and whole.” Shiori slowly wrapped her arms around him too, returning the embrace, anchoring him in the warmth he had been denied since the moment she was hurt.

Giving him the peace he had longed for since yesterday.