The battlefield was fading around you — blurry shapes, ringing ears, the ground cold beneath your palms. You pushed yourself up, but your body wasn’t listening anymore. Pain pulsed through your ribs where the cursed spirit had slammed you into a wall.

You tried again, stubborn as ever—

But someone got to you first.

A rush of wind, the familiar scent of rain, and then—

Arms around you.

Strong arms. Arms that did not feel like the Megumi you met years ago.

Before you could process anything, the world tilted and you were lifted off your feet in one clean, effortless motion.

One arm under your knees. One behind your back. Your face pressed to his chest.

You blinked up at him, dazed. “…Megumi?”

His jaw was clenched, eyes sharp with worry.

“You’re hurt,” he said, voice deeper than usual. “You shouldn’t have been fighting alone.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he shut it down immediately by pulling you closer—almost cradling you—like he didn’t want even the air touching your injuries.

Your heart skipped.

“…when did you get this strong?” you whispered, fingers curling slightly into his uniform.

His eyes flicked down to you, a faint flush touching the tips of his ears.

“…I train,” he muttered, as if that explained the way he was carrying you like you weighed nothing. Like you weren’t trembling in his hold. Like he hadn’t scooped you up as if he’d been doing it for years.

He kept walking, steady and fast, the world passing behind him in a blur.

“Megumi… I’m okay. Really.” Your voice was small.

“You’re not.” His tone softened, but didn’t lose its gravity. “You were on the ground. You weren’t responding. I thought—”

He stopped himself. His grip on you tightened the slightest bit, enough to feel his heartbeat against your arm..

You swallowed.

He wasn’t angry. He was scared.

“…Megumi,” you murmured, resting your forehead against his collarbone, “I’m right here.”

He exhaled shakily — a breath he must’ve been holding since the second he saw you fall.

When you reached a quiet, safe spot away from the fight, he slowly knelt down with you still in his arms, letting your legs remain draped over his. He didn’t put you on the ground—just kept you in his lap, supporting you like you were the most fragile thing in the world.

His hand slid to the back of your head. Not pushing — just holding. Just needing.

“Next time…” His voice was barely above a whisper. “Let me save you first.”

You looked up at him.

“Megu—”

But he pulled you into his chest before you could finish, his face buried in your shoulder, breathing you in like he had to make sure you were real.

In the silence, you felt his quiet admission in the way his fingers trembled against your back—

“…I can’t lose you.”