When Akane comes home from the hospital, Aoi makes a feast. Whatever she wants – sweet and sour fish, miso soup crowded with chunks of tofu, omurice, bread pudding soaked in rum sauce, and pain au chocolat. He works in the kitchen like he’s preparing for battle and Gab follows at his heels, tail wagging and hoping Aoi brings out some cheese.
Akane takes a bite of everything, and says she’s tired. She gets up from the table with great effort and hobbles on her crutches to bed. Aoi worries his lip; Junpei sighs. They look at each other but don’t speak.
In the bedroom, Akane is struggling to lay down, uncertain how to lean on one crutch while discarding the other, so Junpei holds her under the arms and sets her down gently, cradling her broken ankle like glass. She’s already closed her eyes and started to doze off by the time he thinks of what to say.
Junpei goes out to the living room and finds Aoi sitting in his chair, staring at the TV.
“She’ll be fine,” Junpei says.
“Yeah. She will in time,” Aoi agrees.
Neither are willing to wait for that time.
*
Gab wants to be where Akane is; snuggled against her side in bed, watching TV, even whining when she’s in the bathroom and scratching at the door. Akane lets him lavish her with attention and licks. He’s an old boy now but brims with puppylike energy at the changed atmosphere in the house. He knows something is wrong with Akane and has decided he’ll watch over her.
He and Junpei have that in common; Junpei is on her other side in bed, getting poked with her knitting needles occasionally. He does not say how lucky they are or how he’s glad he saved her in time. Akane is loving but distant, her eyes hazy. He is not used to her laid so low.
He does not apologize because she does not want to hear it.
Instead he says, “What do you want to eat?” and “Watch this with me,” and “That scarf is pretty.”
She smiles, but it’s always thin.
*
It was a simple mission, in and out of a building, and she is angry because she hurt herself running. A freak accident, and she was alone, and–
They are lucky. So lucky.
Akane starts working the day after she comes home, on her laptop in bed with cooling mugs of tea at her bedside. She tries not to sleep, she tries not to eat.
Junpei wants her to slow down and rest but she has no off switch, he knows. So he works too. Planning and dealing with Operations and ordering his people to do just one more thing in service of her plans.
“I’m not tired,” she complains when she’s nodding off from pain medication, and he shuts her laptop with a, “Ssh.”
*
He has a nightmare that he did not find her in time.
When he wakes up he wants to press his head to her breast to feel her heartbeat, but he doesn’t want to wake her up. She rouses anyway and pets his hair before pulling him to her chest.
“I’m right here,” she says. “I’m okay.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop,” she chides gently.
*
He does whatever she needs, whatever she wants. Her arms are fine but he washes her hair, rubs her back, brews tea the Correct Way with filtered water, puts her socks on and helps her up and down. He walks Gab slowly with her dragging herself alongside them, drives her anywhere she wants anytime. He and Aoi cut down on squabbling playfully about pointless things.
And still she’s frustrated, slower to calm down and quicker to exclaim, “I can’t do anything!” She has already made plans to go out again, needs to feel in control.
“I’ll do it,” he says. “Aoi will do it, Investigation will do it all.”
“You shouldn’t have to!”
“I <i>want</i> to.” He can’t stand to see her unhappy. He needs to find the mythical something that will make this all okay.
She stares at the floor. “I know.”
*
The cast comes off and Akane throws herself into her physical therapy. Aoi bandages and braces her ankle and stretches it out for her. “Good girl,” he says when she comes home.
Junpei does her home exercises with her and can feel her pushing back against his palm with all her strength, frowning when it doesn’t feel like enough.
“Keep going,” he says.
*
“Walk, boy? Walk?” Akane tempts, jangling Gab’s leash, and Gab actually stands on his hind legs, wobbling, for her. Akane is God to him. “I’ll be fine,” she says when Junpei offers to go with her.
He almost bites his nails as he waits for her to return. When she does he kisses her.
*
“I’ll be fine,” she says, less convincingly, when she volunteers for the next mission. It has been months; her ankle is strong, recovered. It doesn’t hurt anymore.
And she is scared, for the first time, he can see it in her playing with her hair and mussed cuticles.
“I’ll go with you,” he says. For her and for himself.
“Please,” she says and hugs him.
*
Akane runs with an expression of surprise, not to be caught again but as if surprised she can still run at all. Junpei runs with her, and they dodge gunfire adeptly. They escape whole.
They are shaking in the car and never get used to almost dying and when they pull over they hold each other, hands in their hair.
“You did it,” he breathes.
“I did,” she says, shaky. She sniffles. “I did.” And she cries for the first time since this all happened.
*
“Wake up, wake up,” Akane says, shoving him in bed. “Let’s go for a run.”
It’s rainy and gray outside and Junpei wants to stay in bed, cuddling with her and Gab. Akane wants to run every day now, a habit picked up from Aoi. He could never convince her to come before the injury. She says it makes her feel stronger.
“Mmmph.”
“Junpei!”
He snatches at her but catches the air. She grabs his wrist and tugs. He’s not getting out of this.
“I’m here,” she says. And she is. Thank God she is.
