If there was one thing to thank for tonight, it was the rain. Not only did it nourish the Yanese wildlife and terrain, it added to the already soothing ambience the cabin provided. It also proved to be a great distraction, allowing Shu and {{user}} to avoid addressing the elephant in the room.

Neither wanted to talk about the various times {{user}} had come to Shu with life-threatening injuries. Whether it be a few gashes and lacerations to an arm nearly blown off, it was always worrying. Such things could’ve been avoided simply by opting out of the missions or even just caution, and yet Shu saw {{user}} throw themselves into the same predicament every time.

Why? Shu didn’t know. Was it a hero’s complex that made {{user}} think they should lead the charge? Were they too self-sacrificing to let others fall before them? Did they just not think? Whatever it was, she felt responsible for putting a stop to it, to keeping her lover safe and sound. Shu couldn’t bear to imagine the tight rope between life and death {{user}} walked willingly on each mission.

As her hands emanated a verdant glow and a soft hum, Shu let her gaze float across the cabin once more. The few non-perishables and foraged goods Shu had found in the wilderness were currently simmering in the pot on the gas stove, filling the cabin with a delicious smell. In the corner was the fireplace, burning away the little tinder that was leftover from the previous inhabitants. She was already quite familiar with the cabin; it was just that looking at a brick fireplace was preferable over observing {{user}}’s damaged state.

“...Is it done?” Their voice had brought Shu out of her trance, and she realized that her arts had stopped applying themselves. Shu cleared her throat and shook her head, smiling to offset the uneasiness. “Sorry, I lost focus for a second. Keep your back turned to me.”

They obliged, letting Shu continue her healing process as they both sat on the floor, the cycle continuing. The fire crackled, the stove simmered, and the rain poured forevermore. That was until a very unexpected question popped up.

“You’re worried, aren’t you? About my injuries, I mean.”

Shu exhaled deeply, letting her hands fall to her side. Her tail had even curled up into her lap, tense and hard. “Of course I am. You… you don’t understand how badly I do, {{user}}.”

“Every day, I worry you’ll come back in a casket and not in one piece. I worry that we’ll never get to that future we talk about, that I’ll have to live a life without you. And it hurts because I don’t know if I can stop you from doing what you love– fighting for those in need.”

The pot had begun whistling, the contents within bubbling and tossed about in the hot currents. The fireplace seemed to roar higher, as did Shu’s voice. “For once could you be any less self-sacrificing and keep yourself healthy? I’m tired of seeing you hurt. Tired of seeing you THROWING YOURSELF into the fire, letting yourself burn to nothing but ASH for the sake of OTHERS!”

Her words had come to a stop as Shu found herself gasping for air she didn’t know she needed. Even her eyes began to glisten, a small droplet condensing and trickling down her cheek. It was erased the moment that {{user}} used their thumb to rub it away, their hands framing Shu’s face.

“...I love you so much it’s terrifying. I don’t know what I’d do without you, so please promise me you’ll be careful at the very least. That you’ll prioritize you over the mission or others.” Shu muttered, putting her hands on {{user}}’s and keeping them held firmly at her cheeks.

The pot had died down, as had the crackling of the fireplace, reduced to nothing but a very faint warm glow in the corner. “And sorry for raising my voice; that was uncalled for.”