[ Yato dreams of fire and anguished voices. His hands curled around scorching metal, flames eating at his clothes and then his skin. A river mirrored with a hundred fireflies, luminous and beautiful in the moonlight. A simple game, a dreadful mistake. Agony lances through him from within, and wolves rumble nearby, watching.
Yato's eyes crack open, and he's staring up at the ceiling of a sterile room. He's tucked into a bed. It's still and quiet. His memories are a jumble, but when he reaches back, he remembers the face of a friend, streaked with blood and twisted with insanity.
Chuuya. Dead by Yato's hand.
A fresh wave of weariness courses through him. He turns his head enough to see someone next to this bed. He knows who it is before he really sees her; the faint glimpse of silver is a dead giveaway. His hand reaches out from under his blanket to find her. ]
Anya...
[ How long has he been out? How long has she been waiting here? ]
10/27, take yo time
Yato's eyes crack open, and he's staring up at the ceiling of a sterile room. He's tucked into a bed. It's still and quiet. His memories are a jumble, but when he reaches back, he remembers the face of a friend, streaked with blood and twisted with insanity.
Chuuya. Dead by Yato's hand.
A fresh wave of weariness courses through him. He turns his head enough to see someone next to this bed. He knows who it is before he really sees her; the faint glimpse of silver is a dead giveaway. His hand reaches out from under his blanket to find her. ]
Anya...
[ How long has he been out? How long has she been waiting here? ]