The glow of Mars' floor lamp cast long, soft shadows across the room as Hime leaned against her cluttered desk, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. The data feeds on her tablet flickered, their cascading streams of information barely registering in her consciousness. Kazuki had left hours ago, his presence replaced by the hum of rain against the windows. The silence was oppressive, and yet, it was familiar.
She had always been alone.
But this time, it felt different. It wasn't just the waiting that gnawed at her; it was the not knowing. Not knowing where he was, what he was doing, or when he would return. Her mind churned, piecing together fragments of data, the echoes of their last conversation, and the subtle clues he hadn't even realized he'd left behind.
The mayor. The Shadow District. Rival factions.
It didn't take her long to deduce his objective. She didn't need the specifics to understand the framework of his mission. But knowing didn't make it easier. It only made her feel... restless.
Hime exhaled, setting the tablet aside. She soaked in the quiet for a moment before her routine took over. She moved to the bathroom, her sanctuary for reflection, and filled the tub with steaming water. The faint scent of cedarwood filled the room as she sank into the heat, her thoughts still racing.
The walls of the bathroom were her canvas, covered in scattered notes and diagrams. She stared at them now, her damp fingers trailing across the edge of the tub. Even with her mind branching out to other data points, one thought remained constant: Kazuki.
The following morning, Hime resumed what appeared to be a mundane routine. She tidied the small kitchen, scanning the shelves for supplies. The realization struck her: she needed groceries. The thought of going outside felt strangely grounding, as though immersing herself in the normalcy of the world could distract her.
The market was bustling, the rain having subsided to a light drizzle. Hime moved through the aisles with precision, selecting fresh vegetables, rice, and miso—her staples. Her hand paused over a pack of instant coffee before she grabbed it, almost rolling her eyes at herself.
Then, without thinking, she found herself in the men's section of a clothing store. Her fingers brushed over shirts, her mind calculating Kazuki's size. She selected a few items: plain black t-shirts, a pair of gray sweatpants. She hesitated for a moment, thinking it was foolish, but then shrugged. He'd probably never even wear these.
Back at Mars, she unpacked the groceries and folded the clothes neatly on a chair. The day stretched on, her mind drifting in and out of focus as she processed new information. News articles, intercepted communications, financial reports—they all swirled together, but none of it could distract her completely. The thought of him lingered, like a shadow she couldn't shake.
When night fell, Hime found herself sitting on the couch, her legs curled beneath her. She stared at the dimly lit room, her tea untouched on the table. Sleep felt distant, an impossibility with her thoughts so loud. She lay down eventually, the couch's worn fabric soft beneath her cheek, but her mind wouldn't quiet.
He'll come back, she told herself.
But the reassurance did little to ease the tension in her chest. Even as her body began to surrender to exhaustion, her brain refused to stop. It wasn't analyzing data this time, though. It wasn't strategizing or cataloging information. It was singularly focused—on him.
And then, finally, she drifted into a restless sleep.
It felt like only moments had passed when she stirred. Her mind, always half-alert, registered the sensation of something warm and comforting. A gentle hand brushed against her hair, the touch so light it felt like a whisper. She blinked, her eyes heavy with sleep, and found herself staring into familiar, sharp eyes.
Kazuki.
Her breath caught, and for a moment, she thought she might still be dreaming. But the warmth of his hand, the faint scent of rain clinging to his clothes, and the intensity of his gaze told her otherwise.
"You're back," she said softly, her voice laced with a relief she didn't try to hide. A small, almost happy smile tugged at her lips.
Kazuki's hand lingered for a moment longer before he pulled back. "I told you I would be."
She sat up slowly, brushing her hair from her face as she studied him. He looked tired but unscathed, his presence grounding her in a way nothing else could.
"Was it successful?" she asked, her tone neutral, though her eyes betrayed her concern.
Kazuki's smirk was faint but reassuring. "What do you think?"
Hime's smile widened slightly, and she shook her head. "You're insufferable."
"And you worry too much," he countered, his voice softening. For a moment, they just looked at each other, the silence between them no longer heavy but comforting.
Hime leaned back against the couch, her body relaxing for the first time all day. She didn't need to say it, and neither did he. The fact that he was here, safe, was enough.
For now, it was enough.