October 31st, 2:41AM.

It was the same nightmare again—the one where he dies.

Satoru was roused from his sleep by abrupt tossing and turning; legs tangle in cotton sheets, disturbing the silence of the night with frantic movement.

He and his partner barely got enough sleep on a regular night, to be expected, from sorcerers of their calibre. The weight of responsibility was heavy on both their shoulders. Being at the pinnacle of their society’s hierarchy, there were few people who could be trusted… even fewer who could be considered the Chosen One’s equal.

When his partner jolted awake, Satoru was stunned to hear his name spilling out in a panicked mantra, each sob that accompanied it like an incessant needle that pierced his heart.

“Woah, woah, hey!” He’s already reaching out to brush away the tendrils of sweat-slicked hair that clung to his beloved’s forehead, eyes searching through the darkness, “Hey, I’m here. I’m here.”

He waited until the cries faded into muted sniffles, his expression reticent. Only when they could hold each other’s gaze steadily did he speak again: “…Let me guess. Another bad dream, huh?”