It's quite warm, isn't it?
It was cold a few moments ago, yet now I feel warm.
Why was it warm?
The warmth felt nice, like morning sun on bare skin.
Is this how the afterlife feels? I could get used to this... this tranquility.
But if I were dead... why did I feel a gentle breeze brushing against my face? I even felt strands of my own hair stir against my forehead.
And this weird—delicate weight, pressing down against my hand.
Hold on... I'm not dead, am I?
My eyes fluttered open to a familiar ceiling—high arches carved out of white stone. It was the very ceiling within my own bedroom chambers. I shifted my head to the left and found that the window was open, letting in the breeze that I had earlier and still felt, letting in the golden sunrays that painted my room in slanted lines of floating dust particles, letting in the noise of bustling streets, letting in all kinds of sensations I shouldn't be sensing right now.
I should be dead.
I tried to push myself up, using my left hand as support, and then my torso screamed. Like it, actually, internally screamed. What the fuck?!
When I looked down, I noticed it. My torso was still there. How long have I been out for? How is my torso still intact? So many questions flooded my mind, I couldn't even recall them all.
But whoever healed me must've been one hell of a healer. I didn't even know it was possible to heal a hole through one's abdomen. I should thank them.
Though even so. I was bandaged like one hell of a burrito—from the curve of my lower chest all the way down to my waist, bandages all around in crisscross patterning, so tight, it felt difficult to breathe. On top of that, it was uncomfortably soaked through with enough dried blood to feed a vampire for months.
My mouth and throat were pretty dry, surprisingly; however, that was the least of my worries right now.
One worry stood out above the rest, like, who was that woman I saw? And why was Vangardia burning? I might be overthinking it, honestly. It must be a dream—yes, yes, a dream is what it was.
...An ultra-realistic dream...
Also, I'm pretty sure my torso was 'screaming' not from my wound but from how tightly it was wrapped—however, I'm not dumb enough to undo the bandages yet. Otherwise, my insides might actually come out and greet the outside world. So for now... I'm gonna have to deal with it. Sigh.
While half-sitting up, using my elbows as support, I shifted my gaze to my right.
Sis?
Her hair, which was already infamous for being messy, was more tangled than usual, not just the usual mess. It appeared even messier than before, cascading in waves over her sleeping face. She sat slumped in a cushioned chair by my bed, her temple pressed against the mattress as if she had fallen asleep mid-vigil. Her fingers, tipped with my very own dried blood, were intertwined with mine, and her grip was fragile.
I studied her delicate face for a moment, my mind fading back to what she said.
"I don't wanna see your dead body!"
I'm sorry, Kat. But hey, at least I didn't die... I think?
She looked peaceful now, a direct contradiction to the panic and rage she must've gone through to end up like this. The exhaustion and faint markings of tears clinging to her face spoke louder than any words ever could.
I inhaled a shaky breath, my voice coming out hoarse and thin.
"…Katarina."
Her fingers barely twitched—I almost missed it, but even in her sleep, she tightened her fragile grip as if letting go of me would mean my death, and I felt my very own heart sink further. I almost wanted to cry. But I'm Sora. Sora doesn't cry.
An image flashed in my head: my heart pumping out blood to organs that weren't there anymore, my deep red heart hysterically beating in a useless attempt to save me. And once again I asked myself—
Who healed me? How am I alive?
"...Mm..?"
Katarina let out a groggy sound, an escaped breath as she deeply inspirated then expirated.
Her eyelids then fluttered, sluggish at first, as if even waking up required more strength than she had left. She shifted her head slightly, strands of hair sliding off her cheek as she blinked herself into consciousness with eyes that remained puffy and red from countless hours of crying, I'd bet.
Sis finally opened her eyes and looked at me. I looked back with a weak, wry smile. "...What's up?" I said, wincing slightly as I tried to push myself up even further.
She didn't answer me immediately; instead, she continued to stare at me with flat, unfocused eyes.
"...Sora?"
Her voice was low, timid, barely a whisper, as if the fear of speaking too loudly would result in my inexistence.
I raised a dark brow and strengthened my smile, then repeated, "What's up, twin?"
"SORA!"
She shot up like a spring, straightening her posture in a heartbeat with a hitched breath.
She lunged forward, slipping against the floor, causing the chair behind her to scrape backwards. Her arms wrapped around me tightly—much tighter than someone who recently got perforated should be.
Still, as much as I hate to admit it, her embrace was nice. But this was embarrassing.
I grabbed her by the waist and tried to push her away gently without looking like a terrible brother, but she wouldn't budge.
Tears rained down my shoulder as she patted my head, gripping tightly around my neck with another hand, her knees on my bed.
"I—I thought—I ran back after—and—and I—I saw."
Her words stumbled out between sobs, fragmented and raw. To anyone else, they might have sounded incomprehensible—but I understood.
After she stormed out, she rushed back immediately, desperate to make up like the Sister she is. And then… she saw her amazing brother lying there, a hole through his torso.
Damn.
"I'm sorry I worried you, Sis."
Eventually, I gave up trying to push her away and just let my arms fall numbly to my sides.
"I can't imagine what went through your mind at the time, but I'm okay now."
Her entire body shook.
Her breath came out in shaky bursts.
Her fingers dug into my back as if she thought I'd vanish again the moment she loosened her grip.
"You're alive… you're—you're actually—" Her voice cracked mid-sentence, splintering under emotion she'd clearly tried to hold back for far too long. "I thought— I thought you—"
"Yes... I'm alive, so can you please let go before you squeeze me to death?" I gently told her with a smug grin before giving her a light peck of a kiss on her cheek as she responded, slowly loosening her embrace and then letting go completely.
She remained seated on my bed, knees tucked beneath her.
I got a good look at what she was wearing now, and it was the same outfit she wore at the ceremony, the green dress and whatnot, except this time she was barefoot and ungloved, and the circlet she wore on her head was nowhere to be seen, not to mention her hair being undone. How long has she remained like this? Wait, how long was I even out for?
She tried to hold herself with regal authority, but the expression portrayed on her face told me everything but regal: A slight frown, tired eyes, a tight jaw, chapped lips, a sense of relief that washed over her, and a scrunched nose from constantly hyperventilating.
I couldn't help myself.
"Well," I said, leaning back on the pillows with all the effortlessness of someone who survived being absolutely destroyed, "you clean up nicely for someone who was clearly holding back a full-on panic attack."
Her jaw tightened. A faint flush rose to her cheeks.
"I—I wasn't panicking!" she sputtered.
I chuckled softly, letting the smugness drip from my words. "Right. Of course not. But, honestly, that's nothing I haven't handled before."
She crossed her arms, trying to look intimidating, but honestly, it was adorable. Her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes narrowing just slightly.
"I should've died, you know," I said, lazily stretching an arm above my head. "A little hole through the middle of my torso, and yet here I am. Alive. Perfect. Unstoppable, as usual."
She groaned, her hands gripping her knees like she was holding herself together. "You are infuriating," she muttered.
"And yet," I added, letting my lips twitch upward in that signature smirk, "you still care enough to sit here and wait for me. Admit it, Kat—you're relieved I didn't die."
Her lips quivered. She didn't answer immediately, just stared at me with those sharp, expressive eyes.
I knew I'd won, of course. I always did.
"You're alive," she whispered finally, almost to herself. "Of course I'm relieved."
"Soooo, how long was I out for?" I asked, putting an arm behind my head.
"...Two days," she answered, though her voice was tinged with caution, the fear of my extinction still looming in her head. Ah, Sis, you worry too much.
"Two... days?"
"...Mhm..."
The corners of her mouth curled up slightly in a grimace that looked almost like a smile.
"Two days, and nobody bothered to wake me up? That's unacceptable, do you know who I am?!"
"Oh shut up, you almost died!"
Almost...
We sat there for a moment, bantering like the siblings we are, her wild nature beginning to seep back into her.
"...You're unbelievable!"
"I know, it's part of my charm."
I laughed, and she groaned, already done with me.
We calmed down as she started to look around the room now, still a little wary, though the color of her spirit began to wash back onto the canvas that is her. She was returning to normal, letting her concern for me subside.
Before she hit me with. "Oh, by the way, Dad said to make your way to the conference room when you're awake."
"Excuse me?"
"Mhm!"
She hopped off the bed and then sprinted towards the door with loud, obnoxiously loud footsteps. But before she left out the door she opened, I asked,
"Where's Mom and Dad anyway?"
Dad's always busy, so I assumed he was called away for some mission or whatever. I was shocked he was able to attend my ceremony in the first place. So the fact that he wasn't here didn't surprise me all that much; however, mother? She's quite the worrywart, honestly. I expected her to be here more than Sis.
"Hehehe."
Oh no. I know that face.
Katarina placed her hand in a 'polite' manner over her mouth as she let out a stifled giggle. Her face was far too excited; she was practically twinkling; it was worrisome.
"You'll see."