It was another night where the air was too cold. Thankfully the humans had invented some sort of heating device for indoors and it kept the small apartment cozy and warm. I couldn’t sleep, I found recently as time has passed and his personalities have become more prominent I couldn'tt. While I love every piece of him, I am seeing less and less of the gentle and sweet boy that originally made my heart swell. I feel I can see glimpses of him again when I watch him sleep. His black hair is down and out of his typical ponytail, but is still kept swept away from his face. Only a few strands that were already there dared to stay on his face while he slept. His tanned skin is sweating slightly, his face has creased in sadness and I frown. He must be having another nightmare again. I want to use my ability to transport him to another world, a world without pain, a world without humans, but I know regardless of where we go his memories will always follow him, his body will still eventually fail. Besides, I know that isn’t what will make him happy. I have sworn to myself to stay beside him, for better or for worse, even if it results in my death. I will do the best I can to make him satisfied, to make him happy.
I shift my body weight to get comfortable again, my gaze never leaving his being. I wonder if he hadn’t seen what he did, if he would let me whisk him away to another world, to a happier place. No, probably not. I smile, thinking of the boy I first met. He was on a holy crusade to rid the world of evil, the evil of demons, and he wouldn’t have settled for anywhere else but here. I would have had to meet him long before I did, to probably have a chance to convince him otherwise. Long before Koenma did, long before he encountered demons trying to kill him. That would have made me a pedophile though, and possibly even a kidnapper if he didn’t agree. I smile again at the thought of what he must have looked like as a child. So cute, I bet, though I’ll never tell him that. I don’t fear him, but I don’t want to upset him, he will surely want to know, or worse, figure out how I came to be thinking of him as a child. I don’t want to let him know
I’m worrying about him, about his condition, about his happiness. There really is no reason to, he is fully capable and quite strong, but this is what you do when you love someone, I’ve realized, you worry. Even if there is no reason to worry, you invent little things to worry about. Even if they’re silly.
I lean closer and brush a few short strands of black hair from his forehead with my pale fingers. I look almost like a ghost compared to him with my blue hair and my snow-like skin. I smile again. He’s warm to touch and stirs under my cold fingers. Suddenly, his eyes open and stare at me. “Why are you out of bed, again?” He says as if he’s scolding me, and I can’t help but smile. “Well you know, my favourite television program was on, I couldn’t miss it.” I told him, using a lie similar to the one I used when I originally met him. His face changes, only briefly, it seemed to look like disappointment, or sadness, but maybe I am just seeing things. “Your hands are too cold,” he tells me sternly and pulls me back into bed quite effortlessly. Of course, I don’t resist. My body is smaller than his and I fit comfortably in his arms. As if I was always supposed to be there. He adjusts the covers so that they are covering both of us and closes his eyes. I sigh softly, satisfied. “Next time,” he tells me. “Wake me up. You know it’s my favourite show too.”
I can’t help but let loose a chuckle and agree. “Okay, next time. I’ll wake you too.”