Yako honestly hadn't felt this safe in a long, long time. If it wasn't nightmares about her father, they were about Sai, or murders, or, most recently, the Black Dream. But, for once, she felt completely at ease, drifting in and out of vague, happy dreams.
There was something warm and firm wrapped around her and she didn't hesitate to wrap herself around it, burying her face to block out unwelcome light. The blonde clung to the receding tendrils of sleep, refusing to return to the land of consciousness. She liked this feeling, and wanted it to last as long as possible.