When Akari scraped his knees or bled from chores, Lira would sneak stolen balm under his pillow. She hated how quiet he was when he hurt.

“You can tell me when it’s bad,” she whispered once, after binding his palms with strips from her own blanket. “You’re allowed to need someone.”

Akari blinked, unsure how to answer.

Instead, he leaned against her shoulder.

That was the first time he let himself fall asleep next to someone since the day he arrived.