Burden
The first time he picked her up, she felt heavier than a girl her stature should be, reminding him all the more of who it was that he held in his arms. This was the woman an entire religion was based around, who had lived for 2000 years- and the woman that had caused everything in his life to go wrong. It was because of her that his entire family- their entire village- had been put through so much suffering. And her weight on his arms was a burden he would gladly shake off if he could.
But when he told her that after she saved his life, when he saw the cold flint of resolve in her eyes as she glanced at him and told him of her plan to use the last vestiges of her life to seal away Gardenia, he faltered. He was angry, yes- because despite all she said of what she understood, she brushed off her sins far too easily for his liking- but somehow his fury slid past her cool visage, and to cover how she unnerved him, he had blurted out something about making sure she would see her promise through.
He regretted making such a bold claim almost the instant he said it, but there was something in her eyes that forced him to leave his words where they lay.
The second time he carried her, it was because her body was weak, too frail to move where it needed to go. He didn't know why, but when his gaze flicked over to her face, there was something in her pensive, downcast stare that produced a lump in his throat. Unconsciously he found himself aware of how small she was compared to him, how strangely vulnerable she seemed... and this was the woman that had sworn to protect their world? He couldn't believe it- wouldn't believe, not until she proved her words true.
That thought made him restless somehow, and she chastised him for jostling her like a parcel.
Somehow, he was always nearby when her legs gave way, and despite Kunzite and Shing's attempts at dissuading him, he would pick her up. It was better, he reasoned. As a back-line fighter, he would carry less of a risk of being targeted. It wasn't until he said those words that he realized how he wanted to keep her safe.And after, he would catch her gazing at him when she thought he wasn't aware, with that strange pensive look that held some secret within its depths. But she ducked her head quickly when he glanced down at her, embarrassed at something- what?
Being human? Originally, he found the idea ridiculous- how could anyone be embarrassed at stuff like that? But then it sank in- her words, the way she stared, the way she dismissed his anger so easily-
None of that would matter for one who was about to die.
Unconsciously, his grip tightened and she let out a small yelp. Remorsefully, he dismissed his lapse of character somehow, and she gave him the tiniest of smiles as she teased him for his lack of attention. But even as he forced a smile, that only made it feel worse.
When the cold mountain air made it difficult for her to continue after saving his life from the currents once more, wordlessly, he offered her an outstretched hand. She blushed lightly now when she stepped close to him, but as he held her close to him, as her fingers clutched at the fur of his jacket, he could hear how frail her breathing sounded, see how pale her face was. She wouldn't have much longer, she told him carelessly, as if speaking of the weather or some other small thing, unaware of how a fist was tightening around his heart.
She smiled and laughed, was so alive that he could easily forget about the steely gaze she once showed him, the way she so easily said she would die. And he didn't know when he realized that the burden she carried was far more than he would ever be able to bear. He didn't know how she did it- how she looked at him and brushed away his anger, how she could lean in close against someone who once told her he wished she would die.
And in those small moments when he held her in his arms, when he could remind herself that she was here- when it felt like the whole world was right, he whispered to her that it was okay, that he would carry her burden, carry her- anywhere and everywhere she wanted to go, wherever his legs could take them.
And she chuckled at him and told him he was being silly, even as she nestled against his torso and closed her eyes for a brief respite.
And he knew how she could bear the weight of her impending death, of the way her fragile life would be so easily cut short.
Because her love for the world was a burden she would gladly bear; a burden she wouldn't shake off, even if she could.
Just like his love for her made it enough.