SAI SHINU
When the first light of dawn crept through the window, I stirred. Something felt… different. Heavy. Warm. I opened my eyes, and there she was—Namae, still asleep, her face calm and untroubled, her arms wrapped around me as though holding me in place, as though afraid I'd vanish if she let go.
For a heartbeat, I couldn't move. My chest tightened in a way battle wounds never could. She looked so peaceful, yet there was a strength in her grip, silent and unyielding.
Slowly, almost without thinking, I raised my arm and wrapped it around her, pulling her just a little closer. The moment I did, something inside me loosened—a quiet I hadn't felt in years, maybe ever.
But the movement stirred her. Her lashes fluttered, and she blinked herself awake, finding me there, holding her as the morning light fell across us both.
Her eyes widened slightly, not with fear or embarrassment, but with a gentleness I hadn't expected.
"…Sai," she whispered, her voice soft as the dawn.
Her eyes were still heavy with sleep, but her gaze lingered on me, steady, unafraid. For a moment, neither of us moved, the silence wrapping around us like another blanket.
"…Morning," I said quietly, unsure what else to offer.
She blinked slowly, then a faint smile tugged at her lips. "You stayed."
I looked away, staring at the pale light spilling through the window. "You told me to."
Her smile grew, and she shifted slightly, though her arms didn't let go. "You could've ignored me. You usually do what you want."
I huffed a breath that wasn't quite a laugh. "Maybe this time, what I wanted matched what you asked."
Her expression softened, her face close enough now that I could see the way her hair caught the light. For a heartbeat, I let myself forget the weight of gods, glyphs, and blood that hung over me.
"I'm glad," she whispered.
Something tightened in my chest. I swallowed, words caught on the edge of my tongue. Finally, I said, "You shouldn't… hold onto me like this. I'm not—safe."
Her brow furrowed, but she didn't loosen her grip. "You've always been dangerous, Sai. That doesn't mean you're not needed."
I turned my head toward her, meeting her eyes. She looked at me with a quiet certainty I didn't understand.
"You're not alone anymore," she added softly. "Don't make yourself be."
Her words sank into me deeper than any blade. For once, I didn't argue. I just nodded faintly, letting her warmth press against me.
But then I found myself speaking, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
"The fact is…" My voice was low, almost a whisper. "I was never alone. In my life, people come and go… but I always had someone by my side."
As soon as I said it, faces flickered across my mind. My parents—their smiles, their pain, and the night I had to stain my hands with my mother's blood to protect her. Jiro, the quiet strength in his presence. Yosuke's reckless laughter. Yuri's steady, healing hands. Taro's boundless energy
Each one was like a shadow stitched into me. Some gone, some still here. But never… never truly nothing.
My chest tightened as the memories pressed against me, heavy yet warm.
I turned my eyes back to Namae, who was still holding me like I was something worth protecting. For the first time, I didn't feel the urge to push her away.
"You're part of that too," I admitted quietly.
Her eyes widened slightly, and for a heartbeat she just stared at me, her lips parted as if caught between surprise and something softer. Then, slowly, she smiled—gentle, without judgment.
And for a fleeting moment, I let myself believe it: that maybe, even in this cursed path I'd chosen, I wasn't walking it alone.
A soft knock shattered the silence.
Both of us froze. Namae's arms loosened around me, and she sat up quickly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. My body tensed—I didn't need to ask who it was.
"Sai Shinu," came a voice through the door. Deep, measured, the kind that didn't ask permission to be heard. Namae's father. The Head of the village.
I slid out of the bed slowly, careful not to meet Namae's worried gaze, and opened the door. He stood there, his broad frame filling the doorway, eyes like steel, watching me with something between judgment and calculation.
"We need to talk," he said.
I gave a single nod and stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind me.