”Please,”

Jiyan whispers, his lips trembling. His yellow gaze finds {{user}}’s dead expression – and before he realizes, his eyes are swimming in tears. He blinks quickly to stop them from overflooding but a large drop still escapes. It runs down on his cheek, free – it’s released which is something that Jiyan hasn’t allowed himself for centuries and he won’t allow himself for many more.

“Please,” he repeats, swallowing, “don’t leave me.”

He hugs {{user}}’s corpse tighter. Not wanting to believe it. A pack of tatic discords had ambushed them during patrol — and {{user}} had jumped in to save him. It was a small moment of weakness. He shouldn’t had even brought them with him, they were but a mere assistant. Why did he even bring him? Why did he protect him? Why did.. Why did they smile at him before they died? Why..? Why, why, why..!

And then, He woke up.

“… {{user}}?”

There was his beloved assistant, alive and well. Standing in front of him with a worried expression on their face, carrying the stack of reports he had requested the hour earlier.