#desallalong

...he was, awake?

his fingers twitched, and he stumbled, coughing still, but pushed himself. legs weak, he gripped onto the side of the ‘bed’ he had been laid on for all these.... how long had it been? months? he nearly collapsed, but as it was wont to do, his healing factor was already kicking into overdrive.

his head ached something awful. mamoru breathed out, glanced towards those stairs. not a few minutes ago, another man had been there. he had come here, seeking solace, and had told mamoru so very many things. yes, he remembered. despite not being physically conscious, he could recall everything these long months. mamoru’s gaze dimmed, head hurting worse.

“I-I can’t go, but y-you can. You should go. I feel like people need your help, more than I do right now. Sota and my family can look over me just fine while you’re gone. I’ll be okay.” She tries to reassure him before weakly moving her hand, sliding the red rat robe that was over her towards him. “And take this and your cap. Use it for b-both our sakes. I can help you even if I can’t fight right now. Please, Sora. Go be the hero I know you are.”

he stared down at her, his eyes softening considerably. "...kagome," her name is soft from him. he holds her hand, gently, it feels so clammy and warm. she's so sick. he can't, just leave her....!

though she implores him to. she wants him to go. people need his help. could he, really, help them...? she says that she’ll be okay. then, she does something sora had never expected: she gives him back his red rat robe. his ears twitch, curling forward in some disappointment-- he worried she didn’t like it, at first.

but then she spoke, told him to take back the robe for this battle only. his hat too. sora stared at her, and then she called him a hero.

him? really?

“kagome...!” he wants to hug her, but he’s worried it might hurt. she’s so frail right now. sora stands up then, and takes the red rat robe, nodding. he moves toward the closet, opens it so that the door is covering him from her view. then quickly changes, walking out now in that red rat robe again, socks on his feet still, that hat on his head.

“don’t worry, kagome. we’ll all be home before you know it!” he gives her a toothy smile, hoping to ease her fears. honestly, sora does feel kinda scared too. but as he glances away from her, his expression sets and gets stronger, confident.

“Then why do you delight in your own suffering: in the cruelty you truly believe the world has shackled you with.” he says it lowly-- sharply, perhaps. He wonders if she’ll ever realise, perhaps a part of him is terrified for the day that she will. After all, from her perspective, he was simply ‘Kazama’. Any notion otherwise, well-- why would Des allow for such a thing.

“We can all be cruel in such a way, Kikyou. Surely you realise. Don’t be so quick to assume you’re above such things.” He had seen timelines as such, though again, she couldn’t have known the things he did. Kazama had, unfortunately, seen far more than he was ever truly meant to. Couldn’t begin to explain to her, to neither Kikyou, nor even Usagi, the woman he loved and trusted most of all.

He so desperately yearned to tell her, even with his terror. His long-forgotten name, his shed appearance. Everything. And yet, as always, Kazama struggled with those words. With the concept of truly being allowed to be vulnerable, to be honest.

a foreboding sense cascaded down sora’s whole body, causing his ears to perk up, his posture to instantly straighten and his eyes to dart towards kagome’s bedroom window. kazonii-- something was, wrong.

but, kagome was sick too...! she’d gotten ill after, something terrible awful had happened, something she couldn’t think about. sora thought it was probably fear and stress breaking her down. he’d spent the last few days with her, helping to try and nurse her back to normal.