[The bird's cry pierces his ears from the other room. Hearing her tugs on his heartstrings, despite how preoccupied he is with his own misery. No matter how sad he is, he still has sympathy to spare for a helpless baby animal, especially one who depends on him like a child. And yet he's too tired to get out of bed. He's exhausted physically and emotionally, and even when he was worried sick about Nagisa during SS and wracked with guilt about how things were going in ex-fine, he's never felt like this before.
The good news is that Jun is willing to get up and check on the bird for him. The bad news is that this requires Jun to leave. Hiyori's stomach clenches at the thought of him going, even though it's just to the other room, and at that moment, he realizes he's just like their bird: clinging to Jun for warmth and relying on him just to get through the night. The Jin Sagami poster hangs on the wall next to them, and the phrase "security blanket" echoes in his mind.
Slowly, he untucks his face. His grip on Jun's shirt loosens and he meets Jun's gaze, blinking at his words, surprised by the suggestion that the bird might have sensed something is wrong. Did he wake her? Then Jun suggests bringing her here, and he pauses, thinking about the bird, about the nightmare, about the conversation him and Jun need to have.
He gives a small, subdued nod.]
... mm.
[It's all he says. But yes, Jun can bring the bird over, if she's amenable. He'll let go and sit up in bed, allowing Jun to leave, despite how clingy he still feels.]
no subject
The good news is that Jun is willing to get up and check on the bird for him. The bad news is that this requires Jun to leave. Hiyori's stomach clenches at the thought of him going, even though it's just to the other room, and at that moment, he realizes he's just like their bird: clinging to Jun for warmth and relying on him just to get through the night. The Jin Sagami poster hangs on the wall next to them, and the phrase "security blanket" echoes in his mind.
Slowly, he untucks his face. His grip on Jun's shirt loosens and he meets Jun's gaze, blinking at his words, surprised by the suggestion that the bird might have sensed something is wrong. Did he wake her? Then Jun suggests bringing her here, and he pauses, thinking about the bird, about the nightmare, about the conversation him and Jun need to have.
He gives a small, subdued nod.]
... mm.
[It's all he says. But yes, Jun can bring the bird over, if she's amenable. He'll let go and sit up in bed, allowing Jun to leave, despite how clingy he still feels.]