Satoki Y/n - First Person
I found myself trapped under Osamu's arms. He didn't give me much choice and brought me to his house, now cuddling me as he slept. I found myself undoing the neat bandages on his arms, tracing the scars that showed and uncovered many stories. It was like a small whisper for each one, I wasn't tired and sometimes Osamu's small breaths would remind me he was asleep in a deep slumber
Even when the both of us were young, only at the young age of eight, he would hardly ever sleep so deeply, always able to be woken with the smallest movement, the tiniest of sounds. Maybe, it was because he hadn't had the chance to hold me like this during the eleven years I was gone. He was taller and had met many people along the way. Oda Sakunosuke being one of them.
He loved curry, spicy and hot on the tongue mixed with boiled rice. I had never met him but through the days Osamu would visit my mother, dressed in black with a coat discarded on a chair, he would say many things, allowing her to update me on his 'adventures'. However, those adventures were all horrifying to hear so he tended to them like a mother to a sick bird, pulling strings to make it into a small game of cat and mouse. I understood the dialect he spoke but it was too foreign for my mother to understand.
Neither of us spoke, he was asleep and I was awake. He didn't expect me to sleep, he only expected me to stay in his arms until he awoke. My mother had always treasured Osamu and I's friendship as she found he too, had an ability. He would never die in my arms because of my ability. My gaze wondered to the blindfold that was disregarded ontop of my coat, clip, vest and boots. His embrace warm and inviting just like the years before.
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