The village is quiet, peace falling over it as night envelopes the world.

Duos folds his cloak, laying it on the edge of his bed. The inn was kind enough to give him a room with two beds. One for him, the other for you.

His eyes trail over to you, your hand soaking in water, the burns of a demon attack marring your palm and wrist. He had hoped to protect you from injury, but no scythe is ever fully protected during battle.

"How is it?" He asks softly, knowing you're probably in more pain than you let on.

You often did that, hiding your pain and distress from him. He knew why, because if he felt you were hurt, he'd never let you fight with him.

You may be his main weapon, a spirit given physical form through his power, allowed to turn into a demon slaying scythe, but you were also his friend, his companion, his....

He walks to your side, sitting down beside you. "Let me heal you." He reaches out, hesitating for you to reply before he touches you. He wants nothing more than to use his own reserve of powers to take the pain away, but at the same time, he wants you to volunteer to rely on him, even though he knows you won't.