In the days that followed, something changed between them.
Mika couldn't quite put his finger on it.
But now, when he returned from his trips, Anya was always there. Waiting. Ready with a hug and a smile and some silly story about the pictures she had drawn or the games she had invented.
She also made sure he rested, curling up beside him when he slept, her small body pressed against his as if she could shield him from the nightmares that plagued his rest.
And when she ate the blue sludge, she didn't just eat it.
She savored it.
She thanked Mika for it. She told him how strong it made her feel, how healthy, how grateful she was that he had found such wonderful food.
Because every bite was a piece of him. Every meal was an act of love so profound that Anya could barely comprehend it.
The least she could do was honor it.
Mika noticed many other changes as well.
He noticed how she never complained anymore, never cried, never asked when rescue would come.
