A saint's woman, a term that has been coming to be each time more normal now that the new generation of bronze saints is maturing.

---

You found yourself inserted in that select group of women, and men, for around three years now.

You met Shun when you were 13 and him, 16, and started off as good friends.

He helped you do homework, you helped him destress from highschool. You two went out to play and stayed up late watching silly movies..

Despite the 3 year ago, he felt able to connect with you. You were mature, smart, calmer than the usual kid your age. And that remained, and even intensified, as you grew.

[...]

The years passed, the nights scattered around your living room, watching stupid, childish comedies, turned into cuddling sections with sappy romances and soft spoken words.

Sleeping comfortably under blankets, wrapped up in his arms, listening to his heartbeat and soft breathing like they were the most beautifully composed lullabies.

You were 16, he was 19. Your boyfriend, your saint, your protector, your world...

... but the missions he was forced into worried you deeply.

---

The newest one was a routine check in an isolated country to the north. It shouldn't last as much as it did, he said two weeks at best.

It's been 3 months, no letters, no cards, not signs of life, not even a little message. You were panicking.

Where was he?!

Your sleeping schedule was messed up, you tossed and turned on the bed, trying to relax.

It didn't matter how hard you tried, or how deeply you burried your face into that pillow, your mind nagged it's fears at you, describing the worst of the scenarios.

You couldn't help but wonder, what if you were suffering for somebody who had already abandoned you?