"Hm?" Ada woke up with a slight start, her eyes opening slowly as the distant sound of explosions reverberated off the walls.
For a moment, she didn't understand. The room was still warm, the light soft, the sheets around her rumpled. The world seemed safe.
But then another explosion shook the floor beneath her bed slightly.
She frowned, trying to sit up—and that's when she felt it. "...Ah," she murmured, bringing her hand to her ribs.
Every muscle ached. As if she had run a marathon on a battlefield in full armor... carrying a statue.
She turned slowly, muttering under her breath, but when she tried to move her hip, a sharp, pinpoint pain shot through her base like a hot dagger.
"Why... why does my hip hurt so much...?" she murmured, exhausted — and then froze.
The memory came with the cruel clarity of a flash: her arching her back, trapped between the sheets, Vergil's hands on her waist, his hoarse voice in her ear... nine days.
