Today, I would not leave her side. I would let her be as clingy as she desired; I would pour every ounce of reassurance into her until she understood that she is safe. I had to make her believe—truly believe—that she belongs here.
I stopped trying to hold her down. Instead, I crawled into the futon beside her. It was a tight fit, but I pulled her head against my chest, cradling her.
She was hot. Usually, her warmth is comforting, but now she was burning. To think she had been wound so tight, for so long, until she finally snapped…
Ah, truly… why is it that in a moment like this, I find her so incredibly dear to me?
"I will not cast you aside," I whispered into her hair. "I will be by your side forever. I will cherish you until the day your anxieties turn to ash and you fear nothing at all. I am here."
"…!"
"I'm not letting go. Even if you beg me to, I won't. I told you before, didn't I? All you need to do is smile by my side. Smile for me. And if anything gets in the way of that smile, I will brush it aside myself."
I held her tight, stroking her hair, trying to pour every ounce of my affection into her through my touch.
This is all I can do. Such a simple, meager thing. What use is being a "sorcerer"? What use is being a "fiancée"? I find the titles nauseatingly inadequate.
"…I love you. So, do not be afraid. Do not cry. You belong here, Himiko. This is your home."
So please, get well soon. I cannot stand to see you so diminished. I want you to laugh again. For that, I would do anything.
"Nn…"
Blast. I fell asleep. I had intended to stay awake, but I drifted off while holding her.
I glanced at the clock on the bedside table; it was already past noon. I needed to get her something to eat… she needed her medicine.
"…Madoka-chan?"
"Ah, forgive me. I drifted off. How do you feel?"
"…Mmgh."
Not great, evidently. Her face was still flushed, her skin hot to the touch. She had broken into a heavy sweat, and her nightclothes were damp. I couldn't leave her like this. I needed to wipe her down with warm water and change her clothes.
As I tried to sit up, she caught my hand. She interlaced her fingers with mine, gripping tight. She had no intention of letting go.
"I need to get you food and fresh clothes. Will you let go for just a moment?"
"…No."
"I'll be right back. I'm not going anywhere."
"But…"
"Don't look so worried. It's only for a minute."
"…No!"
She wouldn't budge. This was a problem. She wouldn't get better without fluids and medicine, but my parents wouldn't be home until evening. I was on my own.
"Himiko. Just for a second."
"…No! Stay with me… please!"
There was no helping it. I would stay with her until she drifted off again. Once she was deep in sleep, I would slip away quietly to prepare a light meal, the medicine, warm water, and a fresh change of clothes.
I pulled her close again and resumed stroking her hair. She was still so hot… I prayed the fever would break soon.
In the end, her fever didn't fully break until the following morning.
I felt a wave of relief seeing her sit up—but the relief was short-lived. The moment our eyes met, her face turned bright red again.
"What is it now? Are you still unwell?"
I pressed my forehead against hers to check her temperature.
"Umu… still a bit warm. You are to stay in bed today as well. Chores? My dinner? Forget all of that until you are completely recovered. Sleep. Now."
I have to make sure she never pushes herself to this point again. Where should I start?
Well… I suppose I shall start with the cleaning. And I should probably learn how to prepare a decent meal for an invalid. More than anything, I must make sure she feels appreciated.
I want her hard work to be rewarded.
I suppose I shall just have to spoil her as much as she can stand.
(Next time: The USJ Attack. It might be a long one...)
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