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Naia occupied the space beside him and directed her attention to the glass tube. “What is that?”
“A sleep tonic,” he said, then took a swig. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swung his head back.
Mage.
“Crafted by your hand?” Naia asked as casually as she could force it out.
“Nah, my mom.”
Right. Naia remembered Yuki and Akane mentioning at the festival their mother crafted herbal remedies.
Naia studied him closely as he peered out into the blinking lights of the city. She sensed he was somewhere deep inside his head.
What did she need long ago during those delicate days after losing her father?
Nothing more than for someone to talk to.
Turning to face the midnight city, she asked, “How did he die?”
Ronin sighed. “My mom passed away about a year ago. They’d been together their whole lives. I guess you could say it was a broken heart. We knew he wouldn’t last long without her.”
Naia’s heart pinched. “You have my sincerest condolences. That is truly terrible.”
“What?” Ronin looked at her, the dim light casting over his face. “Love?”
“Yes. Tragic, more like.”
“To grieve yourself to death because you lost the one who you held closest to your heart? Some would argue it’s romantic.”
Naia scowled, despite agreeing. “Idiots.”
Ronin chuckled. “I actually agree with you.”
His response was the perfect opportunity for her to push a little deeper. “Is that why you’re forcing a tonic down your throat to sleep?”
His eyes flashed to her, his expression shifting more somber.
He didn’t reply.
“You seemed capable during our travels.” She pointed out with the memory of him lounging back leisurely on the train seat.
“It’s not that I can’t fall asleep, it’s that I don’t want to. If I do, I’ll dream of them, and when I wake up, I’ll have to process they’re both dead all over again.”
A pang of guilt shot through Naia. She was disgusted with herself for pushing him to spill his truth, and for taking advantage of his grief out of selfish intent.
Truth was, she understood where he came from, and, even worse, empathized with him. A feeling that was the bridge to caring. She refused to walk across it, because once she crossed that bridge, caring ultimately led to growing attached.
But she couldn’t stop herself as she asked, “You don’t want to be inside your own head, then?”
Ronin stared down at the vial in his hands. “Something like that.”
Her heart pinched at the sound of his voice growing small. “I’ve experienced the feeling multiple times in my life,” she told him.
He gave her a sidelong glance. “What did you do about it?”
Memories of her darkest moment flooded her mind, and a bitter pain staked in her chest.
“I laid awake and prayed for the High God of Death and Curses to take my life.”
