Chapter 10:

Nightmare Prevention

Your Sights

The SUV with bulletproof windows made its first stop at the stronghold so Braith and Yumie could wash.

Sunata led them inside, a JSDF woman following close behind, cradling a matte-black assault rifle that looked far too well-used. The safety was on. The magazine was not empty.

Yumie still clung to Braith’s back as he piggybacked her through the corridors. Even during the ride she hadn’t let go, pressing herself tightly against him to keep her uncovered body hidden. He didn’t comment on it. He understood.

They passed through the common room.

Eevi and Julen were there, seated with their Mahotonas standing behind them. All four went pale when they saw the pair. Yumie was more dried blood than skin now, what was left of the sweater stiff and dark with it.

Julen muttered something under his breath about bad luck.

Amane stared, eyes wide, as if fighting the urge to rush forward and wrap both of them in a crushing hug.

Eevi covered her eyes.

Kertu’s filled with tears.

No one spoke.

They scaled the stairs up to the fourth floor. When they reached Braith and Yumie’s apartment, Sunata stopped outside the door and sighed.

“I’ll be around,” he said quietly. “Take as long as you need. If that means not getting clothes until tomorrow, so be it.”

He paused, then sighed again.

“Also, your suitcases. They were supposed to arrive last night. They never did. We’re tracking them, but… they could honestly be anywhere right now. I’ll update you when I know more.”

Braith nodded, managing a tired smile.

“Thank you.”

Sunata returned the nod and walked back the way they’d come.

Braith pushed the door open and stepped inside, Yumie still clinging to him like a lifeline. He turned left into the bathroom and crouched so her bare feet touched the floor. She didn’t let go until he spoke.

“I need to run the bath.”

She nodded and slipped off his back - but instead of fully separating, she wrapped her arms around him from behind, limiting his movement without stopping him entirely.

The bath began to fill, the sound of running water oddly calming.

It was difficult to reconcile this quiet moment with the image burned into his mind - Yumie being shot again and again, collapsing in a pool of her own blood. Harder still to accept that she’d proposed to him immediately afterward.

He felt filthy. Crusted over.

And yet, she was the one caked in blood.

Without turning, he spoke.

“Do you want to rinse off first? So the bath doesn’t… you know.”

She nodded, her forehead bumping lightly against his back in response.

Leaving the bath running, he crossed the short distance to the shower and turned it on, adjusting the temperature. Then, gently, he pried her hands from his waist and guided her forward.

She raised her arms at the threshold.

He removed what remained of the sweater and discarded it without ceremony.

A naked fox-girl stood before him.

Nothing indecent crossed his mind.

He helped her find her footing beneath the spray. Instantly, the water pooling around the drain turned red.

Her voice reached him, barely audible over the rushing water.

“Please… clean me.”

He did.

He found a soft cloth and began carefully wiping her down. Knowing she wasn’t actually injured allowed him to remove the stubborn patches of dried blood, but he still worked gently, deliberately. She let him clean every part of her without complaint.

There was no lust. No embarrassment.

This wasn’t that kind of moment.

It felt sacred - something fragile and important, something that needed care rather than desire.

This was his wife-to-be.

And he would take care of her.

When she was clean, he checked the bath. Not quite full, but enough. He guided her out of the shower and helped her step over the edge, waiting until she was settled before turning the water off.

Her silk gloves remained on, unchanged by the water. They seemed almost surreal against her bare skin.

She shimmered beneath the surface.

He didn’t look.

Instead, he gently washed her face.

It struck him then - how she would never truly know how beautiful she was. She understood beauty as a concept, remembered it through him, but she’d never be able to place herself within it.

When he finished, he rested his forehead against the edge of the tub and exhaled.

A moment later, a wet hand rested on his head, scratching lightly.

“Are you alright?”

He smiled faintly.

“I should be asking you that.”

She shrugged.

“We both deserve to be asked.”

He sighed.

“I’m just glad we didn’t have to see the bodies.”

She smiled softly.

“You got to see mine instead.”

He shuddered.

“I’d rather not ever see that again.”

She giggled, then sighed.

“…It’s kind of lonely in here.”

She patted the water beside her.

“Come on. You need to wash too.”

He let out a breath.

“I thought you might say that.”

He stood. She tilted her head toward where she thought his face was, then angled it upward when she heard his voice higher.

“But I’ll take you up on the offer.”

She smiled warmly and shuffled to the side as he began to undress.

After a brief, half-hearted discussion, they agreed that neither of them was capable of facing a clothes shop that day.

As the evening wore on and the bathwater slowly cooled, they found themselves content anyway.

They dried off together - Yumie with a little assistance - before she latched onto his arm once more, as if afraid he might disappear the moment she let go. Neither of them bothered with clothes. Neither of them truly noticed. Braith was dimly aware of her bare chest resting against his arm, but the thought never turned sexual. It simply… was.

He guided her gently to the bed, helped her settle beneath the covers, and then climbed in beside her. Their hands found each other almost immediately, her silk glove warm and reassuring in his palm.

They lay there in silence for a while - long enough that it began to feel as though the quiet itself was trying to speak.

Braith sighed.

“What are we going to do about clothes?”

Yumie’s voice floated back, soft and far steadier than it had been earlier.

“What do you mean?”

“Well… first, what you’ll wear to get there. And second, what you’ll buy, considering you don’t know what any of it looks like.”

She thought for a moment.

“I’ll probably have to borrow something. Maybe Kertu or Amane have something that fits?”

He smiled faintly.

“They’re both a bit taller than you.”

She sounded almost disappointed.

“They are?”

“Yeah. But something’s better than nothing.”

She sighed.

“I suppose so.”

“And once we’re there?”

She shrugged.

“I don’t know. It’s not like I can see what I’m picking.”

He scratched his cheek.

“But you can feel it, right?”

“I can,” she admitted. “But if that’s all I go by, I might end up dressed like a marshmallow twenty-four seven.”

He laughed softly.

“So you want me to help you.”

“…Yes. If you’re okay with that.”

He squeezed her hand, deciding it was the closest thing to a smile he could offer in her darkness.

“Of course.”

She squeezed back.

“Okay.”

Another quiet moment passed.

Then, almost reluctantly, he whispered, “Yumie… why did you do that?”

She turned her head toward him.

“Do what?”

“Put yourself in danger. Killing them. When you hate thinking of yourself as a weapon, and when you didn’t have to.”

She was quiet for a moment.

“I saw how frustrated you were,” she said at last. “That you couldn’t do anything. And then I started thinking about the people they were going to kill.”

Her voice softened.

“The new parents. The babies. The ones who hadn’t even been born yet.”

She took a breath.

“And then I just… acted.”

He squeezed her hand.

“I thought you only cared about me.”

Guilt crept into her voice.

“I do. I just… I was thinking about if it were us.”

His brow furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

She hesitated, then spoke more quietly, nerves and embarrassment bleeding through.

“I mean… if we were the ones in there.”