Obliques

My ears listen the wild birds chirp. I feel a lot more energized. I squeeze my eyes and stretch my arm. My hand hits something hard and I look over my shoulder, in fear of what it is. My eyes land on a sleeping Kier. He rests on his back with his arms folded as per usual. I sigh, laying my head back down. I don't mean to stare, but I can't help it. His soft curls fall away from his sharp face. His chest moves slowly with his long breaths. His plump lips are no longer in a tight line. Kier is an austere man, hard and unforgiving. It's difficult to be around him. But something makes me want to...

I raise my arm and hit him. So unaffected by my strike, he opens his eyes a little. I take another opportunity, but as soon as I lift my arm, he grabs it.

"You deserve another one," I say.

He raises a brow and groggily asks, "Are you always this dangerous, this early."

He lets my hand free, sitting up. I punch him anyway. He doesn't even move. I boost myself to my feet and plod out the tent. The air is still quiet. The hushes of bird songs help me clear my mind. Everyone is still asleep, for the most part. My boots crush the crisp thin layer of snow. I take a deep breath, holding myself from the chill.

"Sage," I hear behind me.

A shiver runs down my spine. I don't stop walking, until his solid hand grasps me back.

"What?" I snap.

He frowns at my tone and my defying glare. I watch him lick his lips, agitated.

"Why are you so hard headed?" he throws back.

I roll my hand in a fist and drive a punch below his chest. He backs up from my blow, crouching in pain, swearing like a maniac. I'm in shock.

"Oh! Oh! I'm sorry. Sorry," I jumble.

He growls, clutching his ribs, "Anywhere... but there."

"S-sorry," I panic, trying to support him before he falls over. "I-I didn't mean to."

He slowly recuperates, hissing threats at me that I can't quite catch. Walking him back to his tent, I start to feel a small throb in my own ribcage. The discomfort grows with every step. Kier sits down, grabbing a hold of a water bottle and chugging it down. I find myself trying to massage my ribcage. I hope this has nothing to do with Kier's pain. But I can't help thinking about the time when Kier dislocated his shoulder and my shoulder was throbbing with pain as well. I sigh, realizing something.

"You broke a rib?" I ask him, feeling guilty for hurting him.

I honestly though it would be satisfying, but it's not.

He takes a brake from his bottle and answers.

"Four. Not big deal," he says with a moist throat.

I pull my lips to the side, wondering.

"I can feel it," I say.

He stares at me and I turn into a statue. I shouldn't have said that. I slap myself mentally.

He looks away and takes another sip.

"Then I'll try to heal faster," he tells me, lowly.

I brick lodges itself in my throat. I guess that's his way of comforting me. The throbbing dies down.

"Ame told me about the match pains. Do we... have to do something about it?" I ask, uncertain.

"We don't have to do anything about it," he answers monotone, his eyes still away.

"But, if what Ame said is true, I don't want to go crazy," I say.

"You," he starts, "You're already crazy."

I raise my arm, ready to punch him again. I watch him flinch for a second. I drop my hand, with a satisfied smile. Finally, he fears me.

"Kier, I'm serious," I say, trying to put away my smile.

He grins at me. It's a sight I don't get to see often. A new silence falls on us. He rubs his stubble with a sigh.

"Match pains can be..." he trails off.

"I know," I say, nodding.

He looks at me.

"Then just be there when I need you," he tells me.

Again, he sounds like he's giving me an order. But my cheeks helplessly burn up, as I try to discern what it is he means. Before I can contest, he gets up and walks out the tent.