[ she lets him sleep. it's not like he's in any danger here, and aerith wants to light a few candles, anyway. it's a ritualistic habit, and she's got an hour to kill before she's supposed to be anywhere, so an easy calmness wades its way into the church while a boy sleeps and dreams of a world he's supposed to have never seen. and while minato dreams, a young woman lights a punk stick, standing before rows and rows of long extinguished candles. she clasps her hands tightly together, a perfect recreation of a prayer pose, and does what she always does. she prays— perfectly, even, as she's been taught to do.
a collision is made; a body hits the floor, the sound echoing in the emptiness of holy grounds, and aerith whips around to catch the tail end of his new injury being made. ]
Finally awake, are we? [ with long, languid steps and her hands behind her back, she approaches, finally, just to stand very helpfully over him. ] That sounded like it really stung. I'll take a look at it. [ stand up, boy!! ]
iii
a collision is made; a body hits the floor, the sound echoing in the emptiness of holy grounds, and aerith whips around to catch the tail end of his new injury being made. ]
Finally awake, are we? [ with long, languid steps and her hands behind her back, she approaches, finally, just to stand very helpfully over him. ] That sounded like it really stung. I'll take a look at it. [ stand up, boy!! ]