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A simple night. That’s all it was, a simple night aboard the Grandcypher. Gran’s crew was silent, sleeping soundly in their beds… well, most of them. Some liked to wander, get a midnight snack, look at the night sky, take a stroll. Tonight, Gran was one of them. A bit of lack of sleep, nothing major. He had decided to simply get some fresh air on the deck, clear his mind.
Someone, however, had the same idea as him. A hulking figure stood near the edge, face, raised upwards, staring at the stars. Vaseraga was apparently having trouble sleeping as well. Gran looked at him in silent for a moment, then decided to walk over.
“Not that sleepy too, huh?” He asked, more of an affirmation, really, as he got closer. He leaned over the balustrade of the deck, and raised his chin to look at his face. It was still covered in bandages. He wondered why he had forsaken the helmet, but the thought was gone as soon as it came.
Vaseraga’s single eye widened ever so slightly, and he shifted. Now that eye was looking straight at Gran. “Captain,” he murmured, with the usual deep, low growl that was his voice. “I suppose you could say that. Sometimes, no matter how much you keep your eyes closed, no dream will come.” He turned his gaze back at the night sky. “Though, I’d say it happens more often than I’d like to admit.”
Gran didn’t answer, and instead kept staring, like before, in silence. He wished Vaseraga had kept looking at him: he never really managed to see his face, and now, while still almost completely hidden, there was a part of him he could see, something really important. He wanted to look at his eye more. Instead, he too turned towards the clouds. “Mmh… I’d like to say I understand but… Maybe some would better than me.”
Vaseraga hummed thoughtfully. “I’d say you could understand. You’ve seen your fair share of things since you started this journey. But maybe you’re just stronger than I am.”
That last statement made Gran feel a sense of worry. His brows furrowed, he turned back to Vaseraga, that red eyes still fixated on something, high up, above both of them and the ship. “... Does that mean you’re thinking?” He didn’t really know what kind of sense that question had, but it came out so naturally. Vaseraga seemed to have understood perfectly, however.
“Thinking… I’d say it’s remembering. Sometimes, I wish I was more of an airhead. That way, maybe, I’d forget more easily.” He closed his eye. Gran could’ve sworn he just sighed. “But I think I’ve said too much.”
Gran let out a huff. He slightly regretted it right after, but what’s done is done. He rolled with it. “You always end with that. I don’t think anything you say is ever ‘too much,’” he placed his chin on his hand, making a crooked smile. “if anything, it’s probably more meaningful than what a lot of other people say.”
Vaseraga let out a single chuckle. A weird sound, coming from him, but Gran didn’t think he was the only one finding it more than welcome. “I don’t think I’ve ever had someone compliment the fact that I talk too much. Thank you, Captain.” He stayed silent for a moment. “But there are times when I really do talk too much. Words are things to choose carefully, and even now I’m still learning to do so.”
“Well, you’re definitely better at it than me.” Gran comically covered his mouth with a guilty look. “Ah- see, I just did it, didn’t I?”
This time, Vaseraga laughed, truly, heartily. Like Gran never heard before. He laughed with him, like that, enjoying the sound until it faded a moment later, replaced by comfortable silence. Gran looked at the sky for one, two more seconds, before slightly shifting his head to see Vaseraga’s face. He was still staring at that mysterious point between the stars that only he could see. But even like that, Gran could see a light in his single eye that wasn’t there before… or rather, it was there very rarely, feeble, barely visible. This time, though, it was as if something had light up inside of him, that light reflecting itself in that red eye. Not like when he gave it his all into fighting, a red glow that spelled the end for anyone he was fighting, but a gentle glimmer, something you’d get for looking at what you liked the most in the world.
Gran wondered if he had that same glimmer in his eyes as well right now. But instead of thinking more about it, he kept looking, half-heartedly hoping Vaseraga wouldn’t catch him staring like that.
“You know…”
The words escaped his mouth, and by then Gran already didn’t know what he was really going for. There were so many “you know”s in his head that he wanted to say. Which one now? But he already knew which one. Or rather, which one wasn’t the right one. He turned his head quickly, before Vaseraga could see the face he was making too well.
“... Zeta isn’t the only one who thinks that.”
Vaseraga looked at him in surprise without saying anything. Gran, continued. “I… We, are here for you. If you ever really need help… or, well, if you just need anything, really… you can ask. You can come to us.” To me. He smiled instead. “That’s what comrades are for, don’t you think?”
Vaseraga’s gaze was inscrutable, just like always. Gran wondered if he should’ve chosen his words better, but then, Vaseraga let out a small chuckle, like before, and looked down, shaking his head. “Ah… you always say the weirdest things, Captain. And at the weirdest times, too. Yet you somehow always make them work. That’s probably why you’ve got so many people behind your back. Probably how you convinced me, too.”
Vaseraga’s bandages moved a bit. Gran’s eyes widened slightly at the thought of Vaseraga smiling. “I think that’s enough night talk for now. I can manage without some hours of sleep, but you’re still young, Gran. You should try to sleep at night, at least.” The draph started walking away, but not before placing a comforting hand on Gran’s shoulder. Gran, himself, was silently watching him go, weirded out by his name suddenly being uttered. It was a weird feeling. A weird feeling that he liked.
The hand was gone way too quickly, and Vaseraga slowly disappeared in the shadows of the night, going towards his room. Gran was left on the deck, the breeze gently blowing without a care.
He wanted to call him back here, maybe talk a bit more… about what? He didn’t know, he only wanted to talk. Instead, he looked at the moon with a tinge of jealousy, envy that made no sense being there.
At the very least, she got to look at his eye for longer than he did.