by Momiji Hime

The night was calm, quiet. An extremely cool breeze settled in, reminding everyone that it was still fall, although most residents were posed in slumber at that particular moment. The refreshing, earthy smelling, autumn wind swept into an open window, ruffling the fluffy curtains. It was a mild, calm time, but despite its appearance, all was not well. The gauzy material parted in the breeze, allowing slivers of moonlight to illuminate a lone, petite figure, wrapped tightly in a bedsheet.

Momiji was sprawled on her back, her arms relaxed, one resting at her side, and the other raised beside her head on her pillow. The wind blowing form her open bedroom window did little to soothe her, as tiny droplets of moisture began to appear on her forehead. Her quickening of breath was an indicator that she was not having the most pleasant of dreams.

She sat up with a start, raising a hand to her throbbing head. Another nightmare. All night, unpleasant thoughts had plagued her, forcing her to remember the unthinkable.

Momiji lifted her gaze, needing an object of focus, of concentration. She needed to keep herself awake, for her own sanity. Falling asleep was a breeze; it was a tranquil night, no traces of the storm remaining, and the soft, rhythmic sounds of the small, outside inhabitants sent her to sleep faster than a well sung lullaby. However, since falling asleep, her innermost self was violated by thoughts of the past, thoughts she would rather forget.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, sighing as her toes met the floor. First it had been the spiders... from her classmate's blouse.. those creepy, tiny monsters influenced by evil. It hadn't been the scariest moment of her life, but it had been in the top ten. Two years after the event, she was ashamed to admit that she still had nightmares about it. She had quickly awakened at first, but fell back asleep only mere minutes later, only to stumble upon another dream.

This one hadn't been much better, only it had involved the first time she had met the ex-love of her life, when he had tried to end her existence. The dream stretched, not only reminding her of how they had met, but of her transformation, of the moment when she had been given her first mitama. She straightened her blankets, recalling how she had felt at that moment.

The memories of being attacked by countless Aragami, and the emotional turmoil she had felt still haunted her, to this day. Her past and present feelings for Kusanagi, her emotional estrangement from a sister she had never really knew, being dubbed a human sacrifice, her many kidnappings, and finally, the moment she had sacrificed herself. Would she forever be assaulted by these constant recollections?

Rising to her feet, she padded over to a window, leaning against the frame as she started into the cloudy sky. And on such a night too. Of all nights, this one had to be the one where she was bombarded with thoughts of the past.... as if she didn't have enough trouble now. Was there ever any peace for her? Would there ever be? She rubbed the transparent curtain material between her fingers, deep in thought. She had been an idiot to think that her life here, as a regular girl instead of pursued sacrifice, would be a way of starting over. Tonight was proof in itself. No matter what she did, she couldn't erase the past; it simply wouldn't leave her be. She couldn't move on. The thoughts, the memories, would always return when she least expected them, making happiness virtually impossible. Everyone had a destiny, a mission in life. Momiji's obviously didn't include long-term commitment.

Snatching a spare quilt from her armchair, Momiji climbed gingerly onto the window seat, spreading the blanket over her legs. Closing her eyes, she relished the cool night air on her face and neck. Gods, it felt good. She slowly raised a hand, tugging down the top of her nightgown slightly, allowing the air to hit a little lower. She undid the top few buttons, parting the soft fabric. Momiji sighed once again, relaxing a bit, until she glanced downward..

Indeed. Happiness would never be possible. Ever.

***

It promised to be a long, rough night. Despite the cold, serene night air, Kusanagi's window remained open allowing the chilly breeze to circulate throughout the bedroom, making his skin tingle. His long, tall frame was propped against the windowsill, Kusanagi stared out into the cloudy sky.

How could an evening that had promised to be so good have turned out so badly? Kusanagi sighed, his eyes roving across the dark room dispassionately. He could still make out a few choice items; an armchair, a couch, the bed, which he should really have been in by now. Everything was neat and tidy, which was unnerving. Something told him that it never got messy enough to actually clean. His own place was clean, but then again, Momiji had preferred it that way. Although she rarely saw his room these days, he kept to keeping it orderly.

Momiji had been a neatness freak. She would burst into his apartment, tsk tsk him for the mess, and clean it with a speed that he could never seem to match, complaining all the while. He never argued, because, hell, she was right. Besides, he got a clean apartment along with her complaints. He could find his socks, and when the phone rang, he could readily locate it after one after her visits. Her bouts of irritability had always ended in affectionate gestures, too. Kusanagi had never been the cuddly type; being lovey dovey was something he simply couldn't fathom.

It didn't make much sense. Momiji hadn't seemed to mind, though. She held his hand on her own, she grasped his arm when she felt like it, and had even given him a few hugs. He hadn't minded; he rather enjoyed her touches, but he just couldn't return them readily. He could count the times he had kissed her on both hands. Despite him being so aloof, she had been satisfied just being in his presence, it seemed. Just being with him apparently gave her comfort. At least at first. In time, it was apparent that she was doubting herself, her attractiveness, her charm.

She had become depressed, and unsure of herself. And as much as he wanted to comfort her, to let her know that there was nothing wrong with her, he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Of course, his lack of affection wasn't the reason for their breakup, but it played a part. He didn't want to hurt her, but either way, he supposed it was inevitable. He was damned if he did, and

damned if he didn't. He was tired. Tired of seeing her downcast and lonely. Tired of being lonely. He had wanted to see her. His innerself had protested, but the other side of his brain had reminded him that it was raining, and that together or not, she'd need an escort home. He had told himself that he would just see her home, and then leave himself. Armed with his lame excuse, he had bundled up and left, in search of Momiji. It had been a good thing that he had, or else she would, at this very moment, still lay collapsed on the cold pavement, alone and injured.

He pushed himself away from the window, making his way through the dark bedroom to the door without much error. He banged his foot against an armchair, and cursed as he pulled open the door. He eased his way into the hallway, trying valiantly to keep noise to a minimum. He crept in the darkness of the hallway, easing his way to a door at the end of the hallway. The door had been partially shut, due to the open window, but he could still manage to see get a glimpse of the bedroom. Was she awake?

He could make out small sounds, like shifting... and... Kusanagi strained his ears, attempting to pick out another sound. Crying. No, sobbing was more accurate. Crap. He stood at the door, battling with himself. She knew. He and Takeuchi had hoped to ward off this discovery until the morning, but apparently, she came across the mitama herself. Should he go in? He couldn't very well leave her like this. He had done that already earlier that night, and if he could have, he would have beat himself senseless for his harshness. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the awkwardness he knew would come, and pushed open the door.

Once inside, her sobs were amplified, piercing his ears, resonating in his head. He shut his eyes briefly, trying to give himself a bit more courage, then opened them slowly, aiming his gaze toward the bed, which was.. empty. A quick assessment of the bedroom revealed her on the windowsill, bent over at the waist, her face almost buried in her lap. Her crying was punctuated with quick, desperate gasps, in hopes of regaining her composure. As he stood and watched, her despair rose, filling him with despair of his own. Her slight form shook violently, and her tears showed no signs of slowing.

Kusanagi stood, helpless, gripped with a brief bout of paralysis. Eventually, though, his legs carried him slowly towards her, although his mind was blank. However, his body seemed to be doing fine, showing him what he should do without actually using his brain.

Momiji looked up, surprised, but not disappointed to see him. By some act of a heroism, she managed to briefly check her tears, and ground out the words, "D.. did I wake you..?"

"No... I was up." He kneeled next to her, rearranging the covers over her bare legs. So far so good. He hadn't stuck his foot in his mouth yet. He silently prayed to every available higher source not to screw things over. Just this once, if no other time, he needed to be there for her. "Are you.. okay now..?"

She gave a small hiccup, nodding slightly. "Fine..."

"Liar." His voice was gruff, quiet, and unbelievingly gentle. He rose to his feet, situating himself behind her on the windowseat. Not believing his own nerve, he wound his arms around her from behind, pulling her soft form against him. He began his explanation without warning. "I don't know how you got it, but-"

"I.. I don't care how I got it. It doesn't matter. I don't suppose I should be surprised either.." Against her will, she leaned backward, allowing the back of her head to rest against his shoulder. "I just want it gone.. " She gave a small laugh, which abruptly ended in a sob, which was followed by another, then another, until she was crying full force again. In order to muffle her tears, she clamped a hand to her mouth, with no success.

"Shhh... " Kusanagi placed a hand on her head, repeatedly brushing a stubborn shock of hair from her forehead. It was like taking a heart punch, seeing her so upset. He couldn't do a damn thing about it. He couldn't banish her mitama, and he couldn't stop her tears. All he could do was sit like a helpless idiot, and just, basically.. sit there. It ripped him to shreds. He lowered his head, pressing his face into her soft, fragrant hair. "Shhh..." he murmured again, swallowing his own fear. In the morning, when the TAC arrived, they would all have some explaining to do, and then figure out what do with Momiji's new.. predicament. Right now, all he wanted to do was keep his mind blank, and give her comfort.

Guilty as he felt for feeling the way he did, he wanted the night to last forever, so whatever force that had given him the courage to come to her, to hold her, would remain. In the morning, he knew that spark of bravery would be gone, and he would be Kusanagi again, the aloof, distant plant boy. He returned his arm to her waist, holding her to him. Kusanagi continued to shush her quietly, not to make her stop, exactly, but more to relax her. He didn't know what to say, but the gentle noises seemed to be calming her a bit, helping her ride the waves of fear and confusion.

He was overcome with a feeling of warmth as he felt her hands creep slowly upward, covering his gently. The numb feeling that had been spreading throughout his body when he had found her earlier, began to melt, easing a bit of his tension. Eventually, her shaking ceased, and they just rested, each finding solace in the other. To Kusanagi's relief, her breathing slowed, becoming rhythmic and calm.

Eventually, Kusanagi would have to return to his own room, but for now, just for a little while longer, he wanted to hold her. Leaning his head back against the window frame, he closed his eyes. He would stay with her, until she fell asleep. A blanket of warmth settled over him, telling his systems to relax. Kusanagi allowed himself to drift off, a slight smile gracing his lips. Telling himself that he was giving her comfort would be a lie.. in truth, she was doing more for him than she would ever know. Tonight had been a night filled with pain, but also healing.

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