anastasia

Ren Shiranami.

The boy can groan and complain all he wants, but at the end of the day, he still has to listen to you because he is your junior.

So the two of you make your way down the dark path toward Dionysia, which remains abandoned (this all takes place before the Dio ghouls eventually reopen their House).

As you walk, you can hear Ren occasionally yelp aloud or unconsciously press his stride closer to yours because this entire place creeps the absolute hell out of him. You pass by old frayed tents, vibrant paint smudged into muddy streaks by the rain and broken machines abandoned carelessly in the corners. Everything around you gives off that eerie horror movie vibe where some fucking serial killer clown could pop out with a rusty saw and start chasing people down at any given second. Ren is practically quivering from head to toe the entire time while you simply focus your mind and walk straight ahead through the gloom.

When you finally reach the destination, the artisan workstation, it is clearly abandoned as well. Thick layers of dust coat every single surface and there is barely any light left to guide you. You turn to Ren and tell him to hold up his phone to use like a flashlight while you walk straight toward the bleak line of metal lockers. You head right to your left, targeting the third locker in the row that stands out because it is slightly rustier than all the others. The handle seems half-broken and makes that awful, high pitched creaking sound every single time you attempt to open it.

Inside the narrow space, you find Haru curled up tightly within the cramped, dark and moldy interior.

He seems to genuinely enjoy sleeping in tight, enclosed places like this. Any normal person looking in would definitely question if his spine and back are going to be okay, wondering who the hell could possibly find an ounce of comfort in a spot like this. But you know Haru. He is the type of person who finds it incredibly hard to let go of old, deeply ingrained habits even when those very habits cause him physical or emotional hurt. He keeps most things entirely to himself because he dislikes telling people too much about his personal life. You only know these things because you have been his close friend for a very long time. Otherwise, you highly doubt you would even know where to look to find him on a night like this.

Crouching down slightly onto the cold stone ground beneath you, you call out his name into the damp air.

"Haru."

But he seems to be deeply asleep, totally dead to the world. His face is heavily flushed from the alcohol, his hair is completely disheveled, and his shirt is wrinkled with several of the front buttons already undone. You let out a quiet sigh to yourself before turning around and telling Ren to carry Haru on his back. The young boy does exactly as he is told without asking a single question.

Just as the two of you are about to leave the workstation, Haru suddenly wakes up. Clearly still drunk out of his absolute mind, he keeps loudly singing and rambling utter nonsense. He spits out chaotic strings of words that most people wouldn't even understand. His arms wrap and cling tightly around Ren's neck while the poor boy nearly chokes to death under the grip. Ren looks completely annoyed, exhausted and miserable, but he still carries Haru all the way back to safety while the stubborn redhead keeps aggressively tugging on his curls and shaking him around. Ren sighs heavily once or twice during the trek before apparently deciding that this situation is far beyond his emotional paycheck, choosing to simply tune out Haru's loud antics entirely.

⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆

By the time the three of you finally return to the dorm room, Haru has calmed down a little bit, his heavy breathing falling into a slightly more even rhythm.

"Sorry for the trouble. You can go rest now."

You speak gently to Ren right after he helps you settle Haru safely onto the mattress of his bed. The boy hesitates for a brief moment before leaving, but you firmly reassure him that everything is perfectly fine. You have taken care of a drunken Haru countless times in the past and know that he is not entirely catastrophic to manage, so Ren eventually decides to take his leave and head to his own room.

As you use a cloth to wipe the damp sweat away from Haru's forehead, you cannot help but notice how hot his face and neck feel from all the alcohol burning through his system. His breathing occasionally falters and falls out of rhythm. It is obvious that he must be having a bad dream.

You briefly consider helping him change out of his messy clothes, but considering the fragile, volatile state he is currently in, you decide against forcing the issue for now. After carefully removing his gloves and his vest, you tug the blanket over his body to secure him warmly.

You think that maybe you should just leave him to sleep for the rest of the night.

But just as you begin to stand up from the mattress, his hand suddenly reaches out from under the covers and firmly catches your wrist. The cold, unyielding sensation of metal presses directly against your warm skin.

It is a firm grip. It feels slightly eerie in the quiet room. You turn your body back around to look down at the man lying prone in the bed. His vivid red hair is completely messy against the pillow, and his eyes are only barely open. Pale moonlight pours heavily through the window pane and softly illuminates his features while his breathing sounds slightly strained in his throat. And with those tired, glazed eyes and a low, rough voice, he softly calls out your name.

He sounds just like a lost man searching desperately for something in the pitch dark.

Or like a frightened child calling out for their parent after waking from a terrible nightmare.

Seeing that vulnerable side of him makes something twist painfully deep inside your chest because you have never been able to bring yourself to leave his side when he gets like this. So you slide back down and sit at the edge of his bed, doing your best to soothe whatever dark feeling is haunting his mind.

"Do you want some water, Haru?"

You ask him the question very quietly, and despite his condition, he still manages to understand your words. He nods his head weakly while you move to help him sit up slightly against the pillows. You have no idea just how much alcohol he drank tonight, but you can already tell that tomorrow's morning hangover is going to be horrific. You reach over to pick up the water bottle resting beside his nightstand and uncap it for him.

"There are hangover meds too. You should take them."

But as he tries to reach out, his arms start shaking badly. His fingers tremble so violently that he can barely hold the plastic bottle properly. If you let go, he would definitely spill the water everywhere. So you place your hands over his to help him hold it steady while he slowly drinks. The cool water slowly eases the burning sensation in his parched throat, though his thoughts still seem hazy and slow.

"Open your mouth."

You speak the command gently, and he obediently follows your instruction like a child while you place the small pill carefully onto his tongue. The surface of his tongue brushes against your fingertip for only a fleeting second, but the intense warmth of it makes you flinch slightly. His tongue barely dampens the very tip of your finger before you quickly pull your hand away from his face.

You say nothing about it. This is not the first time you have taken care of him while he was drunk, after all. It is nothing new between the two of you.

"Do you want to change clothes?"

You ask him quietly while his hazy gaze slowly drifts down toward the intensely wrinkled state of his shirt.

"...Yes."

He finally answers you after a very long, drawn out silence. Normally, he wouldn't be coherent enough to respond to a question properly. Either you would have to handle the entire clothing situation yourself by force, or he would clumsily strip half conscious and collapse straight into the bed sheets. But tonight, he actually seems somewhat capable of following the thread of the conversation. You stand up and move toward his dark closet, grabbing a comfortable, clean shirt and a pair of sweatpants before returning directly to his bedside.

Haru who is still lightheaded, slowly starts undoing his shirt buttons on his own, but his trembling hands make the simple task nearly impossible to complete. You stand there and watch him struggle for a moment. You know Haru better than anyone. He never asks for help even when he needs it most of all. Sometimes he will actually ask Elias for assistance, but he never asks you.

You frequently wonder why that is. Does he genuinely think that he is a massive burden to you? Or does he simply not trust you enough to rely on you in that specific way? Whatever the true reason is, you don't care. You just want to help him.

So you reach forward and gently stop his shaking hands before beginning to undo the rest of the buttons for him instead. He simply sits there, leaning weakly against the wooden headboard with a dumbfounded expression on his face, looking like his brain is still desperately trying to process the situation occurring right in front of him.

He does not try to stop you at all. Perhaps it is only because he is completely drunk. Usually, a sober Haru would get flustered immediately and pull away violently from your close touch. But now he stays quiet through the entire process until you finish undoing the very last button and hand him the fresh shirt.

He pulls the fabric over his head, making his red hair even messier than it was before. You reach out and smooth it down gently with your palms while speaking to him.

"You can change your pants yourself, right?"

That specific question finally seems to drag whatever little bit of sobriety he has left back into his sluggish system because he immediately stumbles over his words, his face turning an even brighter shade of red than before. You honestly cannot tell if the dark blush is from the alcohol or from sheer embarrassment.

"Relax. It's not like you've never stripped naked in front of me."

You say it casually because you remember there was that one specific time he threw up all over himself and the floor. Towa obviously could not handle the mess, and Ren had not even enrolled yet. So naturally, the responsibility fell onto you.

"I'm sorry..."

He suddenly murmurs under his breath, making your gaze drift right back toward his face. The dim moonlight softens over his flushed skin while his brows furrow together slightly.

"Am I being a burden to you?"

Ah. Right. There is another thing you learned about Haru a long time ago. He is always more honest with his feelings when he is drunk. Which means all the deeply hidden parts of himself that he normally conceals from everyone else start slipping through the cracks.

"Is that what's been bothering you?" you ask him quietly while he remains silent. If he actually wants to talk tonight, you are more than willing to stay up all night long just listening to him. "You think you're a burden to me?"

You repeat the question much more clearly this time to make sure it gets through.

"...Yes."

His voice is so soft that you almost miss it.

"How so?"

You lower your tone gently, coaxing the words out of him. It is the exact same voice that both of you always use when you are around animals, treating them like they are tiny, fragile babies.

"I... I..."

He cannot even explain the feeling properly. Or maybe he simply does not even know where to begin. Perhaps his entire life feels so disastrously tangled up to him that he no longer knows how to organize any of it anymore.

"Do you dislike it when I take care of you?" you ask him very carefully.

He lifts his hazy gaze up toward you. The sheer sadness and guilt reflecting in his eyes make you want to pull him into a tight embrace immediately, but you know that if you move too quickly, Haru might retreat right back into his shell. So you stay perfectly still and wait patiently for him.

"...No."

He finally answers, causing a soft, genuine smile to appear on your face.

"Then what are you worried about?" you ask him again, trying to truly understand what is haunting him so deeply that even when he is dead drunk, he still cannot rest peacefully.

"I feel like... I'm taking advantage of you."

The blunt answer makes a quiet laugh slip from your throat.

"A drunk man like you?" You lean slightly closer to his face. "I should be the one saying that. What exactly are you even capable of when you're this drunk?"

You gently remind him of his current helpless condition, which only serves to embarrass him even more. You soften your demeanor again quickly.

"I want to help you. And accepting help from others isn't taking advantage."

He looks genuinely caught off guard by your words.

"So I'll take care of you even when you're not drunk, Haru." You gently guide him back down beneath the warm blankets while he obediently follows your lead like his brain has short circuited. "So will you let me do that?" you ask while tucking the blanket neatly around his frame again.

His eyes stay fixed on you, still slightly hazy and clouded. He does not answer you right away. But after a very long pause, he nods his head faintly.

"Good." You pat the surface of the blanket lightly. "So get some sleep, okay? We still have work tomorrow."

"...Can you stay until I fall asleep?"

It is the first time Haru has ever asked you for something so directly. The sudden request catches you off guard, and he seems immediately startled by his own words too because he quickly buries himself deeper beneath the heavy blanket.

"S-sorry..."

He starts trying to take the request back like he always does, but you are already moving your body before he can even finish the sentence. You shift your weight onto the bed right beside him like it is the most natural thing in the world.

He flinches slightly when he feels your sudden warmth so close beside him. The heat radiating from your body makes him feel even hotter than the alcohol already does. You tug the blanket over both of you and gently pat his shoulder like you are lulling a small child to sleep.

"Satisfied?" you ask softly with a smile.

Haru shifts his body slightly before slowly turning around to face you.

"...I must reek of alcohol right now."

The quiet mumble almost makes you laugh out loud. He just asked you to stay, and now he is worried about something like this.

"Yeah, you stink," you tease him lightly, immediately noticing him trying to shift his body farther away despite the darkness of the room.

Even without seeing his face clearly, you can feel how incredibly flustered he is. His breath is warm against your skin. So you move closer instead, wrapping a firm arm around him.

"But not nearly as bad as those babies we'll have to deal with tomorrow."

You pat his head gently. Running your fingers through his soft hair, you feel his entire body stiffen up beneath your touch. But he does not pull away from you. Instead, after a long moment, he slowly and hesitantly inches his body closer toward yours. His arm settles around your waist while he buries his face deeply against your chest, inhaling softly through the fabric of your shirt. Finally, you feel his tense shoulders completely relax. That uneven, strained breathing from earlier finally smooths out into a quiet, relieved sigh that you almost never get to hear from him. You rub his back gently before pressing a small kiss against his red hair.

He murmurs sleepily against your chest.

"How did you know where to find me?"

Right. Because he never actually told you about this specific hideout.

"Elias told me." You don't see any reason to hide the truth.

Haru looks up slightly, his chin resting against your shirt while your fingers continue brushing gently through his hair and away from his forehead.

"He did...?"

"He was worried about you." You continue rubbing his back softly, carefully, treating him like he is something incredibly fragile that might break. "It's getting colder lately. That's really not the best place to sleep, you know?"

You want to scold him for neglecting his own well being and worrying everyone half to death. But you don't do it. Because you truly understand Haru. Opening his heart to people is not an easy task for him, and right now, he is trying his best.

And you? You have worked incredibly hard to earn his trust over time. You have worked hard to win his heart also. So of course you do not want to hurt him in any way, even verbally.

"Besides, even if you weren't there, I still would've found you."

You say it matter of fact while pulling his body slightly closer to yours. He does the exact same in return. Even through the fabric of your clothes, you can feel the cold metallic sensation of his prosthetic arm tightening faintly around your waist.

"You're not the only one who likes putting trackers on people."

You smile while softly pinching his flushed cheek. That action finally earns a small, genuine laugh from him. It is only a tiny one. But it is more than enough to linger warmly in the darkness of the quiet bedroom.

"Sleep. I'll wake you tomorrow. Peekaboo must miss you."

You kiss his soft hair once more. You slowly guide him toward a deep sleep. Not until his breathing evens out completely, his chest rising and falling softly against your own body, his eyelashes finally still, his brows relaxed and his expression peaceful in sleep, do you finally close your own eyes too.

"Goodnight, little foxie."

⋆⸜ ⚘ ⸝⋆

Bright sunlight pours through the curtains and spills directly across your face, making you stir slightly in your sleep. It is such a warm and refreshing morning, something you rarely get to experience since you usually wake up long before sunrise.

You immediately sit upright in the bed.

Shit!!!

You must have slept straight through your morning alarm.

But as you look around, you realize this is definitely not your room. The ceiling looks unfamiliar. The bed, the blankets, and even the subtle scent surrounding you feel completely unfamiliar.

Right. Haru. He was drunk. You took care of him last night. Even though you only planned to stay until he fell asleep before returning to your own room, somehow you ended up falling fast asleep right beside him too.

Turning toward the other side of the bed, you realize Haru is already awake. He is sitting quietly at the edge of the mattress while yawning softly, the back of his red hair completely tangled. Honestly, it might be the worst case of bedhead you have ever seen on him. Well, that probably means he slept incredibly well, right?

"Good morning..." you mumble sleepily while rubbing your eyes.

Haru lets out a troubled, shy smile.

"Sorry. Did I wake you up?" he asks you quietly, looking like he is afraid of disturbing your peace even now.

"No. It is just my iological clock," you yawn lightly. "Did you sleep well?"

"The best sleep I've had in a long time."

He answers you softly, causing a little smile to grow on your face.

"Glad you didn't wake up with a hangover."

You stretch your limbs slightly while the bright sunlight dances across the room and catches teasingly against his reddish hair. Only now do you realize that he isn't wearing a shirt at all.

"...Where's your shirt, Haru?"

Your tone sounds significantly more interrogative than curious.

"Ah... that." He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. "I dirtied it while feeding Peekaboo earlier."

So he woke up that early already. Normally, he would already be fully dressed and halfway through his morning duties by this time of day. He usually skips breakfast too. But today is a bit different. Sweatpants. Messy hair. Still lingering around his bedroom. Did he actually decide to take a rare day off?

"Ren made breakfast and said he'd handle the morning tasks…" Haru explains quietly, still sounding uncomfortable about accepting help from other people.

"What a good junior. We should reward him later," you tease softly while pushing the blanket aside and preparing to get out of the bed.

But before you can even move your legs properly, a strong pair of arms wraps tightly around your torso. Or rather, Haru clings onto you securely from behind. You glance back slightly over your shoulder to meet his eyes. His bare chest presses faintly against your back while he nuzzles his face lightly against the side of your cheek.

You lift a hand up and gently rub his messy hair and the warm back of his neck. He is being unusually clingy today.

"Sorry... I just wanted to do that..."

The quiet, honest confession makes soft laughter slip from your lips.

Cute.

You think the word silently to yourself. Though honestly, you have always thought Haru was incredibly cute. But today feels entirely different. He is far more adorable when he is honest with himself. And in the end, you simply let him cling to you for the entire morning until he finally feels satisfied enough to let go.