The hours in which Yuu found sleep felt like days, time compressing and seething as a lifetime fought to restore itself in her head. Her breathing was slow, steady, but beneath her closed eyelids, the flicker of memories played like lanternfish gliding through deep waters—brief glimmers of light, then gone again. Then another. And another.


    The past did not return all at once, but rather in waves, lapping gently at the edges of her consciousness before surging forward, swallowing her whole.


    A child''s laughter, hers, ringing through the corridors of a place long forgotten. The warmth of a hand clutching hers, the weight of a promise made under starlight. A name whispered in the hush of the wind, spoken by a voice she had missed without ever knowing why. Faces—so many of them that she’d known and loved, making her both happy and desperately sad. Even if she did return, she knew, those faces would no longer be the same.


    She shifted in her sleep, lips parting as if to respond to some distant call, fingers twitching as if reaching for something—someone—who had been just out of reach.


    A lifetime unraveled in the space between heartbeats.


    However, beyond those sweet times, she could feel whatever it was—something dark, tremulous, and altering, growing nearer with every blip of information that Nerissa’s magic brought back to her.


    What was it, from her past life, that she was so afraid to see? What had the dark mirror hidden from her?


    Once more, however, Yuu did not have to face that thing, because she was being shaken awake.


    Yuu groggily opened her eyes to find Azul standing over her bed, looking…different than she’d imagined him sleeping in Octavinelle, but, she sleepily admitted to herself, not even businessmen slept in suits.


    Azul’s sleepwear was the kind of luxury that whispered rather than shouted. A deep navy silk robe, embroidered subtly with curling ocean waves along the hem, draped over his shoulders, cinched just enough at the waist to hint at the shape beneath without being indecent.


    Pity.


    Beneath it, a light, sleeveless tunic and pants clung a little too well to his frame, the fabric soft and well-worn in contrast to the sharp tailoring of his usual attire. Without his glasses, his expression softened, less guarded, less calculating. His silver hair, usually so meticulously styled, had relaxed into soft waves, one errant lock slipping down over his forehead in a way that was unfairly charming. And yet, even in his sleepiness, there was something composed about him, like he was ready to bargain with the night itself if opportunity presented.


    “This will be easier if you sit,” he said tiredly—grumpily.


    She opened her mouth to say something clever, but what came out was a groggy, "Why’s it still dark outside?"


    He helped pull her to sit.


    "Because it''s two in the morning, and I’m the only thing keeping you from a slow, agonizing death. Hold still."


    Yuu slumped over him, both leaning on each other in the sleepy haze. The feeling of his magic seeping into her was still uncomfortable, but not nearly as bad as it had been the first time. She could even see signs of the bite mark starting to heal normally.


    "You’re looking a little rough, Ashengrotto,” she mumbled into his hair.


    Hypocrite, she chided herself.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    "You, my dear, are a parasite,” he said, once he’d finished.


    “Aren’t you the one sucking my blood…?” she mumbled, still slumped over him. He didn’t seem like he had the energy to argue, much less pull away.


    “Mhm,” was the only sleepy answer she got from him.


    They were going to have to do this again in three hours. She sighed, leaning farther into his silk-clad arms. He didn’t fight her when she leaned—more like flopped—both of them back down.


    “Have to go,” he mumbled into her neck.


    “Three hours,” she grumbled back. It was the only argument they both needed. He could do this again, and then leave later.


    His sleepy brain could have understood this, or perhaps he was just too tired, because second later, the heavy rumble of his slow breaths were lulling her back to sleep.


    This time, falling asleep was more urgent, the magic pulling her harder through the memories she had left like memory whiplash.


    She saw the most recent memories before she’d left her world. The memories weren’t just dumping knowledge into her brain; they were presenting her a different view of herself.  She already knew that she wasn’t the same person as the one she now remembered. So, would she even fit back in her old life?


    The answer struck her, just as that dark cloud looming on the edge of the sea of memories reached her at last.


    There had been an accident—but not for her. Her father loved travel. He had to travel for business. He’d learned to fly his own planes—not just to save cost, but because he loved the feeling of soaring through the air. One night, he, and her brother had gone, and simply never come back.


    There were police at the door, explaining to her mother. Bodies ripped apart. No saving them. Gone on impact. And so many plastic bags of belongings returned to them, drenched in dried blood and fluids.


    Her mother had gone to pieces—of course she had. Yuu herself had fought to get scholarships and into the college of her dreams—because she had to. She had a future to rebuild. Her mother had remarried. Her sister had charted her own course. They had to. They had to.


    And even though it had been long enough that her heart no longer bled, the memory of that moment came back to her, pain as fresh as the week after it had happened, when she’d finally let herself feel the sting of reality.


    Yuu woke to the pain of sharp tears and ragged breath. Mortified. Azul was still there.


    Azul shifted beside her, drawn from the edges of sleep by the trembling at his side. His voice was thick with exhaustion, his usual precision dulled into something softer.


    “…Yuu?”


    She froze. It was one thing to cry alone—it was another to be caught like this, tangled in the sheets, curled too close. She couldn’t have felt more exposed if she’d woken up naked. Mortification burned through her, but the betrayal of her own body was worse. Her shoulders shook with the effort to keep quiet.


    “Just a dream,” she whispered, but her voice wavered, the lie crumbling before it could even take shape.


    Azul exhaled, long and slow. His fingers twitched where they had barely, instinctively, reached toward her in his half-conscious state. He was clearly still lost somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, but even so, he sighed, shifting toward her, and curling her into the lapels of his robe without opening his eyes.


    “…Terrible liar,” he mumbled, more asleep than not, his voice low, rumbling. “Memories can be….”


    But he never finished his sentence. His hand, heavy with drowsiness, brushed against hers before he stilled completely, his breath evening out once more. Yuu swallowed hard, the lump in her throat thick and unbearable, letting him curl around her, laying halfway on top of her as he fell asleep once more.


    She should move. She should leave. But in the heavy quiet of the room, the warmth of him steady beside her, the weight of the past pressing on her chest—she stayed. Azul’s calm steadiness kept her, pulling her back into a sleep that was—for once—unmolested by the hard, artificial pull of foreign magic.


    Instead…instead she could have sworn she felt his magic—traces of it under her skin, defending her temporarily from anything that could bother her. It pushed away her fear. It shoved at Nerissa’s magic, telling it to leave her be—at least for now.


    So, warm next to Azul, Yuu slept, feeling more calm, more whole, more safe, than she had in any other time since the night her family was torn in half.