Battle Scars

They arrived back home, the quiet street cloaked in the chill of the late night. Standing in front of the front door, Daniel and Diana both hesitated, feeling the weight of the evening settle over them. A cold breeze brushed past, and Diana shivered, pulling her jacket tighter around her. She sniffed, then sneezed, the sound breaking the stillness.

Daniel looked at her, his expression a mix of frustration and thoughtfulness. "We can't risk waking up Mom," he whispered, glancing warily at the door. "If she hears us on those stairs again, it'll be impossible to explain what happened tonight."

Diana seemed to consider this, her eyes darting between Daniel and the house. Then, as if a lightbulb went off in her mind, she grinned and gestured for him to follow. She didn't say a word, just turned and walked briskly toward the side of the house.

Daniel raised an eyebrow, hesitating for a moment, then followed her. As he rounded the corner into the backyard, the shadows seemed to deepen, and he instinctively placed a hand against the rough wall for balance. Ivy vines twisted up the side of the building, their dark leaves blending into the night, and he could see patches where the paint had begun to peel, flaking away to reveal small gaps and weathered wood beneath. The faint scent of damp earth filled the air, and he could feel the long, cool blades of grass brushing against his ankles as he stepped off the path.

Just as he moved further into the yard, turning the corner toward the back door, something tall and dark came hurtling toward him from the shadows. His heart lurched, and he threw his arms up in defense. But just as it seemed like it would strike him, the object missed, toppling to the ground with a heavy thud.

Stunned, Daniel stared at the fallen object, his heart still racing from the sudden scare. It took a moment for him to realize it was a ladder that Diana had accidentally dropped while trying to set it up. "Sorry," she mumbled, her voice tinged with remorse.

Shaking off the shock, Daniel chuckled nervously. "Damn, I thought I was gonna die," he joked, trying to lighten the tense moment. Diana apologized again, but as she attempted to lift the ladder once more, it refused to cooperate, much to her frustration.

"Let me help," Daniel offered, stepping forward to assist. Together, they struggled to push the ladder against the wall, their combined effort finally securing it in place. Diana couldn't help but remark, "Who makes these ladders?" She gestured toward the thick ladder poles, noting how they were too substantial for her to even cover with her hand.

Daniel gestured for Diana to go up first, watching as she ascended the ladder slowly, disappearing step by step over the ledge. When it was his turn, he began climbing with his hands barely managing to wrap around the rungs. When he reached the midpoint, his muscles started to ache. With each rung he grasped, he felt his strength waning and his grip loosening. His palms grew slick with sweat, and vertigo threatened to overwhelm him as he risked a glance downward, knowing he couldn't afford to fall.

Despite being at his limit, he pushed on, grabbing each rung with determination. His muscles screamed in protest, and his palms were now covered in sweat. Just as he felt like he was about to let go, Diana's head popped up over the ledge.

"Come on, you got this!" she called out, reaching her hand down toward him. Her encouragement gave him a surge of motivation.

With renewed determination, he pushed with the last of his strength. As he approached the top, he reached out and grabbed her hand. With a grunt, she pulled, and he pushed himself up with all the energy he could muster.

Together, they managed to hoist his chest onto the ledge, and he crawled back inside the attic. But just as he was pulling himself in, his grip faltered. He tumbled over the edge of the attic opening and hit his head on the ground below. The impact sent a jolt of pain through him, leaving him momentarily dazed and disoriented. Diana quickly rushed to his side to help him back up, her face filled with concern. He shook his head, trying to clear the dizziness, but he could feel a slight throb where his head had struck the attic floor. Despite the pain, he was grateful to be back inside the house and away from the trouble they'd just encountered outside.

Suddenly, they both froze, hearts pounding, and strained to listen for any signs of movement downstairs. The house was eerily silent, save for the faint creaking of the old wooden floors as the house settled. They exchanged a worried glance, silently hoping that the noise from his fall hadn't woken Carmine.

After what felt like an eternity, they were relieved to hear nothing but the usual quiet hum of the house at night. Diana let out a small sigh of relief, and Daniel nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. They both knew they had to be more careful, but for now, it seemed they were safe.

Diana helped Daniel to his feet, and he rubbed his head. Once he was steady, she guided him back to the mattress, telling him to rest.

She looked at him for a moment, noticing that, despite the fight, his body had suffered only minor bruises and a bleeding lip that had already closed up. Still, she decided to risk it and went downstairs as quietly as possible, grateful that the stairs didn't creak under her lighter steps.

In the living room, she opened the drawer beneath the TV and found a cloth. Next, she tiptoed into the kitchen, where she carefully retrieved some ice cubes and wrapped them in the cloth.

Returning to the attic, she found Daniel examining the letter she'd left on the floor. He was smiling, though his face looked slightly confused. As he tried to stand up too quickly, a wince of pain crossed his features. Diana hurried forward, setting down her supplies and helping him back onto the mattress.

"Where did you get these papers?" Daniel asked, glancing from the letter to her with curiosity.

"I'll explain later," she replied softly.

As she knelt beside him, she pressed the cold compress gently against his arm, her fingers brushing his skin. His body was soft around the edges, yet beneath her fingers, she could feel the faint outline of his abs. It felt strange—this body was once hers, but now she was tending to it from the outside, applying pressure to soothe the pain.

She noticed slight bruising on his arms and a small, dark bruise forming on his chest. The marks weren't too severe—likely because the man had been too drunk to land his hits with much force or accuracy—but they were enough to show how close things had come.

"Does this hurt?" Diana asked, pressing her fingers lightly on the bruised areas.

Daniel flinched slightly but shook his head. "No, it's not too bad," he muttered, though his voice was tight from the discomfort.

Diana continued to press the cold compress against the bruises, her mind still grappling with the surreal nature of their situation. It felt strange applying a compress to what had once been her own body, but she pushed the thought aside, focusing on easing Daniel's pain.

When she finished, she sat back, placing the compress aside. Daniel shifted, slowly sitting up and adjusting his position on the mattress. He looked at her, a curious expression crossing his face. "So… about the letter…" he began.

* * *

In another place, a girl with white hair sat on the branch of a leafless tree in the middle of a fog-covered island. The eerie mist curled around her bare feet as she sighed in frustration.

"Why is doing this so complicated?" she muttered, raising her hand, palm forward. A glow began to emanate from her palm, lighting up the fog that surrounded the tree.

* * *

Back in the attic, both Daniel and Diana suddenly felt a strange, warm sensation wash over them. It was subtle but unmistakable, a feeling that made Diana pause mid-motion.

"What did you just say?" she asked, frowning slightly as she looked at Daniel.

"What?" Daniel replied, confused. "I didn't say anything."

Diana glanced at him, her brow creased, but she let it go. "Alright," she said softly, though her thoughts lingered on the moment.

With the compress secured, Daniel stretched, wincing slightly but managing a small smile. "I think I'll head downstairs to my room. Thanks for all this, Diana."

She nodded, watching as Daniel carefully made his way down the attic ladder. Once he was gone, she lay back on the mattress, pulling the blanket over herself, still trying to process what had just happened.

The warm sensation slowly faded, but the lingering sense of something unexplainable remained. Diana closed her eyes, letting herself drift off to sleep, her mind swirling with thoughts of the strange connection between them.