The Peninsula

The Fiction and Poetry Archive of Liana Mir and scribblemyname



Thunder cracked and lightning lit up the entire inside of the bedroom. Anna shot up out of the covers, blinking at the brightness. She wasn’t scared. Not even a little bit. Nope.

She scrambled out of bed and crept down the hall, shivering at the continuing flashes and thunderclaps overhead. She reached the couch where Totsuka had crashed earlier, pulled back the blanket, and crawled underneath.

“Huh?” Totsuka stirred, blinking at Anna in sleepy surprise.

Thunder rumbled then snapped. Her grip on the blanket tightened.

“You’re not scared, are you?”

“No,” she said.

Totsuka smiled but tucked her in close.

Memories of Us


Anna took the camera out a year after Tatara’s death. Mikoto wasn’t there for her to wake up with it or make memories with. There was no Tatara to absolve her if they damaged the camera.

Even so, she wanted to add her own memories to HOMRA again, so she took the camera in her hand and went out to find Misaki.

He sucked in a breath when he saw it but pasted on a smile as he waved. Fushimi stared at her a moment.

“It’s good to see you,” she said softly.

He was part of their memories too.



She woke him from a world ending in fire.

Mikoto opened his eyes wide in the dark, heart still hammering, aura still thrumming under his skin and in his blood with the ever-present urge to Burn them. Anna’s serious face, her grim mouth, and intent gaze were mere inches away.

He sat up. “Anna.”

“Nightmare,” she said quietly, simply. It disarmed his desire to brush her off gruffly.

Instead, he allowed her to clamber into the bed beside him and tuck herself under his arm, fingers clutching his shirt over his ribs.

They fell asleep like that, his nightmares quieted.