Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They’re hiding in an abandoned building, waiting for their pursuers to give up. It's a rare instance the others dislike being forced to do, but it sometimes happens during their more subtle missions where they better not shed blood or can't make themselves known, and they're first and foremost professionals.

The chase was abrupt and violent, and Skull lost both his life and his notepad. It's already been a couple of hours they're hiding, and the same amount of time Skull itches to write down his death. He glances at Viper yet again, Viper who can't mist them away because of the skillful sensor in their enemies' side, and he has to stop before they snap at him.

Still, Skull needs to write down his death. He needs to write it down somewhere as a reminder until they're back at the mansion so he won't forget to add it in his notebook, as well as the other deaths of the latest page of his notepad that was yet to be full. He needs to write it down to not forget—he won't, of course he won't forget, he could never forget—one death so far today, three this week, eight this month, thirty-one so far this year—, needs to write it down so he'll remember, he needs to write it down.

Skull reaches for his pen, the others instinctively glancing at him at his movement before they glance back to more pressing matters. They're sitting in two groups in what once could have been a waiting room, one group in the right corner near the window, and the other in the opposite corner across the room, close to the door.

Skull rolls his sleeve up to his elbow and takes off the pen's cap with his teeth. He aims for a spot where his skin is still smooth before he stabs the pen into his flesh.

Blood spurts from the wound as Luce flinches away, while Fon tenses, his hands hidden in his sleeves jerking.

Skull doesn't even realize as he drags the pen sideways to form a line, then does it again five more times. The blood covers his skin but he knows the six lines are there—will still be there whenever they'll be back at the mansion—, and the knot in his stomach loosens as he breathes relief out of his lungs.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Skull raises his head, and if not for his voice, he could not have told Reborn was the one to speak. Not when the disbelieving incomprehension—maybe even some horror—on his face is the exact same as Lal's, Verde's and Viper's.

It hasn't been long since their first meeting, only a couple of months, but Skull guesses it more safe to not answer. It's not like Reborn actually expects an answer anyway, not really. Only for Skull to give him the opportunity to make him feel small, and anything he says always does the trick.

"Do any of you have bandages or something? It doesn't heal when I'm the one hurting myself."

Skull outstretches his bleeding arm as if it wasn't already the center of attention. He can do without the bandages because it's not like he'll ever feel blood loss or anything, but pissing blood while trying to escape without leaving a trail won't exactly help.

"Skull," Luce starts quietly, softly, but unsure, and Lal speaks over her.

"Skull, what the fuck?"

There's a beat of silence where they stare at him, Skull staring back, and Viper takes the opportunity to construct bandages around his arm.

Skull answers with the truth, because they didn't quite give him reasons not to yet, even when he's not sure about what the heaviness in their silence means. They're professionals, the best of the best, got there through blood for sure if not tears too. Surely a pen wound is nowhere near the worst they've seen? "I died earlier while we were escaping. I lost my notepad as we did too, so, you know—" he shrugs "—I wrote it down where I could."

"Your death?" Fon asks.

"Yeah."

"You stabbed yourself six times," Reborn says.

Skull shrugs again. "The pages in the notepad always go in my notebooks once full. The current page I was on had five deaths already, and I didn't want to forget them either."

"Skull," Luce tries again, but again doesn't find the words.

She has tears in her eyes.

"I always have a notepad and a pen on me too," Verde says after a bout of silence.

"Oh." Skull blinks, then laughs at how silly he is for having forgotten. He’s instantly found it endearing the way Verde reaches for his notepad and pen in the chest pocket of his lab coat, always so smartly, so proudly. "Thank you. I love you." He looks at Viper, and smiles at how they just slapped bandages on top of his bleeding wounds without a care. "Thank you. I love you. I love you," he says again, talking to all of them, and only the silence answers him.

Chapter Text

"What do you write down your deaths for?"

Skull glances through the rear-view mirror at Viper, ever the curious one, and he chuckles lightly under his breath. "It's a reminder."

He not so absentmindedly glances at his bandaged arm and flexes his muscles to feel his wounds throb with pain.

He's driving them back to the mansion where he’ll finally be able to write down his deaths properly, but it never hurts to make sure his wounds will last until then. Not even himself can say confidently he knows how his body thoroughly works, and sometimes it likes being a bitch to him for no reason.

"You're afraid of forgetting your own deaths?" Skull doesn't need to look at Reborn to know he raises his eyebrow, only going with the tone of his voice.

"I want to remember them."

It's different, he doesn't add, because even if he found the words to explain the difference to them, they still couldn't understand.

"But you would still remember them, won't you?" Fon looks at him from the passenger seat, then down at his arm, and back at him again. "Even without marring it in your flesh," he says in a low, gentle tone, as if the words could hurt him. "Six deaths isn't such a big number you would forget it."

"What if I did? What if I forgot right here and now?"

"What if you did?" Viper asks when Fon doesn't answer before the silence can settle back in.

Skull tightens his grip on the wheel, a smile too sad and pained to last pulling at his lips.

He could never forget, but that's not the point.

"If I don't remember my deaths, who else will?”

Chapter Text

Luce walks into the living room, takes in the others gathered around the low table, the open purple notebook on it, and anger so strong overtakes her, it swallows the guilt whole.

"How could you?" she spits out, venom on her tongue, disdain—almost hate—, betrayed as if it was her visions of the future laid down on that table, the ones she saw and let happen, and the ones she fought against but they happened all the same alike. "How dared you?" Her eyes sting, and it's tears of anger but of hurt too, of fear, as if laid down on that table were her visions of the future, the ones she saw and helped happen.

She walks forwards on quick, righteous steps, takes the notebook from the table and holds it against her chest. No doubt it's only one notebook among many, put away in the safest place Skull could come up with once full, but that's not the point.

"You looked?"

"We counted," Reborn corrects, as if it's supposed to absolve them of everything.

Luce feels sick.

"You'll apologize," she says, and she never had the pretension to act as their leader, but it isn't a choice she's giving them. "He'll forgive you even if you don't, but you will apologize."

She's overstepping the unspoken boundaries they agreed on, but they're too puzzled by her strong reaction to show their distaste of it. Too unnerved by what they found in the notebook too, she supposes, but it was none of their business to find.

Viper is the one to purse their lips, the first to stand to face her. "Don't act like you weren't curious too."

Luce stands her ground, stares back through their hood, and the others shift, tensing, straighten where they sit.

"I wasn't."

Her eyes are dry, her voice striking like a whip fiercer than before, and she hopes it stings, hopes the sting will last, doesn't care about how she's threatening the already fragile truce between them resting only on their respective pride.

She doesn't even care about how she's threatening the familiarity that has started to build between them.

How could they, how could they—

Don't they know what trust looks like?

Don't they know what laying a piece of your soul bare sounds like?

"I'm back."

The others tense, some wincing, some even flinching.

Luce doesn't, even if she's the one holding the notebook in her arms.

Fon and Lal stand, and along with them and the others, she turns to face Skull, standing in the doorway.

"I'm sorry," she says, truly apologetic, tearing up again, and leaves it at that even if it could mislead him.

It won’t.

This love she has for Skull—half blessing, half curse—is because of the understanding only she can have of his immortality, but it cannot be one way even if Skull doesn't know about her visions.

Luce would know, because of her visions, because sometimes she sees but sometimes she doesn't, and still there're cracks born from pain always visible to the right eyes, whether they know or not.

"Thank you," Skull says softly, even smiles, genuine but so sad, Luce's anger chokes her up again.

He looks down at the notebook in her arms, and she breaches the distance between them to hand it to him. Skull holds it against his chest the same way she was, stroking his thumb over the cover.

"We looked," Lal says when Skull looks up at them, her voice strong and steady, but she sounds like she's confessing even when Skull has yet to ask anything.

"Counted," Viper’s the one to correct this time. "That is, until we were too horrified to keep going."

"And it's only one notebook among what I assume many," Verde finishes.

"Did you damage it?" Skull asks. "In any way at all?"

"Of course not," Fon breathes out softly, making a move to step forwards, but he thinks better of it. "We would have never, that wasn't—Skull, we didn't..." he trails off, and Skull looks down at his notebook again, holds it tighter against his chest.

"I love you," he says as soft as Fon, softer than Fon, and if not for the silence in the room, they wouldn't have heard him at all. He looks up again, a brief smile gracing his lips, and Luce's heart clenches. "But don't you ever touch any of my notebooks again. Never, ever again."

He says it so softly it sounds like a request, like Skull's open to an answer from them, a disagreement he'll take in stride, but they look at his clenched jaw, his curled fingers digging into his notebook, and they know better.

Skull nods at their silence. "Thank you."

"Skull," Reborn calls out, so many words weighing down Skull's name, but Skull turns around and leaves, and this time, he's the one to answer them with silence.

Chapter Text

"Do you always write it down on your body that way?" It's sudden, the first words spoken since they started dinner, and yet Verde looks as casual as casual can be, as if he just asked him about his day.

Skull smiles. "Of course not. But we could have gotten into fights and stuff again, and the ink could have been wiped away. I just wanted to make sure it would last until we got back to the mansion."

"Do you write down every single one of your deaths?"

"Yeah, every single one."

The others don't look away from their food, act like Verde and Skull are alone at the table and they can't hear them, even though Skull knows they're listening.

It's been more than a week since they took his notebook, and Skull resolved to keep it at the same place even if it makes his heart shake. Except for Luce, they haven't spoken to him since unless absolutely necessary, though they look at him a lot, something like apprehension in their eyes.

Skull could tell them he isn't about to snap at them, that he said all he wanted and needed to say and the case was closed, but he doesn't care to. He forgave but he won't forget, won't offer a piece of his soul again, not so soon anyway. But soon enough, he hopes the hurt and disappointment will let place to the love of their curiosity at the very least, their worry at best, and, who knows, maybe even care?

Skull smiles to himself at his wishful thinking. They're little more but strangers turned accomplices, and it seems the others have every intention to remain strangers as they strive together to the one goal they happen to share.

"What for?"

Beside Skull, Luce bristles, looking up sharply at Verde. Her eyes are cold as ice, the sharp traits of her face like knives, looking every part a woman at the top of her mafia family.

Verde doesn't look back and she purses her lips, frowning, then haughtily turns her attention back to her food, like a teenager. She resumes eating, intentionally clinking her cutlery against her plate, and her leg jerks under the table as if about to kick it, like a kid.

Luce's fascinating to watch, sometimes older than she should be—and not because of how she looks, never because of how she looks—, and sometimes as if she didn't get to learn what growing up looks like, so she held onto the little she could witness and now refuses to let go.

Luce is agony to watch on days when their souls reflect each other's too much, and it's days Skull can't bear to see his truth in her soul; yet she's saving grace to watch on days Skull can't bear the weight of his soul, and her soul speaks of understanding without needing words.

Luce gets angry for him, cries for him, says his name in such a way, Skull lets himself believe she'll take a piece of his soul with her when she'll go. And when he could only remember what the concept of love is, the piece of his missing soul will assure him that not only he loved but was even lucky to be loved back, and he can only hope it will lessen the grief and loneliness, even if only for an instant.

I love you, burns at the tip of his tongue as he looks at her, but he doesn't want them to forbid him to keep saying it if he says it too often.

"In any case," Verde says when he doesn't answer, "you don't have to do it that way anymore. Like I said, I always have my notepad and pen on me too."

Skull turns his attention back to him, then to his food, and doesn't bother considering his words.

They took his notebook and Skull will remember it, but he won't hold it against them, won't resent them, it'd be unfair of him to. It was entirely his mistake to open them a window to his soul hoping for anything else that isn't what happened.

They're little more but strangers, Skull the strangest to each of them than any of the others, begrudgingly brought along anyway because they're professionals, the best of the best, even with a glaring civilian weakness at their sides.

They don't owe him anything, not basic respect of his boundaries, not trust, not friendship, and certainly not love.

Skull loves them as he resolved to love the world and anything and everyone in it it has to offer, even when it estranges him further to be loved back, but love doesn't necessarily have to be earned, isn't necessarily built on time, doesn't even have to be a two-way street.

Love is wherever you wish to find it, and so Skull found love to hold dear in sharp but pleased, childish smirks near espresso, a figure wrapped up in a cape against the cold, the glimpse of a mischievous smile behind a red sleeve, fingers tapping the rhythm of a catchy song against a thigh, a pencil twirling between fingers, reaching out on your tiptoes instead of floating out of laziness.

Skull isn't always loved back, might never be loved back this time around, but that's not the point. Skull isn't even giving love, not really. He cares more about taking it wherever he can find it, and make it his to carry him forwards however far it'll carry him forwards.

Skull could tell them what love means in his mouth so they'd know they could simply let it wash over them, could tell them he'll keep loving them as long as they'll allow him to—that he wants to keep loving them. He could tell them he wants to love all he can, needs to love all he can so it lasts, and lasts, and lasts—

But of course, it'll never last long enough.

No amount of love he carries ever feels enough, not faced to eternity, and so Skull needs to love even more, he needs to love, to love, to love.

Skull could tell them, but he doesn't care to.

He owes it to himself to love them, but the same way they don't owe him anything, he doesn't owe them anything more than that.

"What do you care?" he asks, and watches how the way they don't have an answer for him is written all over their faces.

"I care," Luce says, so quietly, not looking at him, and she sounds like shame and guilt, always does.

"I love you," Skull lets himself say this time, and it saddens Luce to hear it, it always does.

Chapter Text

"Why are you so committed to write down your deaths?" Lal asks.

She doesn't sound like she expects an answer, but Skull scowls, biting his tongue on a harsh reply.

It's been a couple of months since they talked about his immortality, and though Skull is touched they took the time to think about it and gave him time before wanting him to talk about it again, this isn't one of these days he wants to talk about it.

Skull adjusts his head on the pillow, curling his blanket tighter around himself. It's not so comfortable looking up at the sky lying sideways, but he doesn't want them to see his face.

Deep indigo colors the sky, the stars not so many anymore or as bright as before, but Skull climbed up on the roof early in the night and already admired them all he wanted.

"Is it so strange?" he eventually says, and immediately after, maybe a bit sudden, "What about your scars?"

"They mean nothing."

"I guess not in a way some of my scars—"

"They mean nothing," Lal cuts him off, firm but not offended. "Not a reminder, not a burden, not a homage; not guilt, not pride, not love; not anything."

Skull widens his eyes a little, his mouth gaping, his breath stolen, at a loss for words. He understood her words but cannot fathom them, and she might as well have spoken in a foreign language.

Lal must hear it in his silence as she speaks up again, "Your flesh gets wounded, and sometimes it bears the marks of that wound forever, indiscriminately between big and small wounds, meaningful ones or not. Nothing more, nothing less. Why should I put meaning in them?"

"Where do you put it then?"

"In other places. Sometimes—often—other people," she adds after a beat. "I carry meaning in other, deeper ways; treasure it in more meaningful places than my body could ever hope to be."

Skull chokes up a little, almost tearful, but it's not a bad feeling. "You're so very strong." He forces his voice to not be a whisper so Lal can hear it. He might not be able to fathom her words, but he knows he'll never have the strength to follow them. "I love you."

Lal doesn't answer but he hears laughs, then her stuttering, embarrassed voice demanding the silence.

She's not the only one he's showing his back to, though she was the first to climb up on the roof after him. The others followed as the night trickled by, and he's not sure why they're here, what's so special about his insomnia tonight they all felt the need to join him—to keep an eye on him.

Whatever it is for, they had joined him on the roof—be it because they worried someone would attempt to hurt him, or because they simply worried about him—, and Skull felt warmer and warmer as one after the other they took place behind him.

He exhales slowly, relaxing his body. It's not so bad watching the stars with a company other than his thoughts.

"Why do you write down your deaths for?" Luce asks as a breeze blows, cold from early morning and the remnants of winter.

"As a reminder."

The sky shifts from indigo to rosy orange colors with undertones of red, and Skull watches the last few stars fading into them.

Stars are the only other eternal entities he knows apart from himself, but will he even survive them one day?

"Of what?"

What do you care? Skull wants to spit out, much harsher than he did that time at dinner.

Maybe it's not that they climbed up on the roof to keep him company after all, but to corner him and satisfy their curiosity.

Skull bites his tongue because it's Luce who's asking, and Luce cares if not any of the others, and Skull trusts she does, knows in his soul she does.

And maybe it's also because it's been a couple of months since that time at dinner, almost half a year since they first met, and Skull found so much more to love in them, loves them so much more than before.

"It depends."

"How so?"

Where should he begin?

Skull would die for his notebooks, knows the exact number of deaths in them for each of them, but he rarely opens them. He rarely strokes his fingertips over the lines crossed-out every five of them, sometimes with a note about his death next to them, more often not.

It never has been about the way he dies.

When Skull does, when he opens his notebooks and runs his fingertips over the crossed-out lines inside, it's most often at night, and most often not a happy occurrence.

Sometimes, Skull touches how many times he died and lived again, and it reminds him how he lived again, how he lived through every single one of those lines, and how he'll live again as long as life exists and some more.

Because Skull will never be the first to go, and he'll always be the last to stay, the one who'll never be able to leave. Every person Skull meets will be a memory one day, every person he loves grief and loneliness and longing, and eventually the terrible, terrible, far away forgotten memory you can't recall anymore.

Skull will survive humanity, maybe even the world, and when he'll be the last to stay and the one still unable to leave, he'll carry its memory on his shoulders, and it'd make him want to die but he won't be able to.

Sometimes, Skull touches how many times he died and lived again, and it reminds him how he lived again where anyone else would have died, how he'll live again where anyone else would die, and with them, the life they could have kept living. The life with every hope and dream and love and happiness they held into it; every mistake and regret and remorse and pain they could have amended and moved on from and healed from; and with every person they treasured their life for left behind lonely and grieving.

Because Skull will have more time than he'll know what to do with it, time he'll eventually only feel resentful and hateful and desperate about, but it's time some people would do anything for.

Skull's immortality is a curse, will never be a blessing, but he doesn't have to bear it as a curse all the time, can't let himself bear it only as a curse. Time can only end up being loss and grief and loneliness for him, but it's time some people die desperately begging for, and Skull owes it to them if not to himself too to make it something more than pain.

One day, Skull will be the last remnant of humanity, and he'll bear on his shoulders the goods and the bads humanity is made of, carrying grief in his heart as large as humanity, and he wants the last remnant of humanity to be love. He wants to carry love within him larger than humanity, and if it will not save him still, he at least hopes for mercy.

Sometimes, Skull touches how many times he died and lived again, and it reminds him how he died no matter if he lived again every time, how he only lives again because he dies.

Because Skull's alone in death the way everyone is, but not quite. Not when the unknown of death is central to humans, but Skull looked it in the eye and came back to tell the tale, and not when he's so intimately familiar with death the way no one else can ever be.

Skull is mortal if only for however long he dies and stays dead, but it'd be selfish of him to expect others to keep it in mind. To expect them to overlook even if only for that moment that he'll come back to life, to understand death is death even for him, and the Skull that comes back is never the same Skull that left.

Skull's alone in death whether it takes him or he comes back from it, no one to meaningfully hold his hand or accompany him to his last moment once they know he'll come back from it, no one to meaningfully give him warmth and comfort and reassurance when he does come back from it indeed, not even if they wanted to.

Skull's so alone in death it terrifies him, and he has only himself he can count on to remember his deaths, to remember he's still human and his humanity. Can only be certain he’s the only one who’ll never fail to remember he still deserves to be mourned and grieved and remembered, deserves the warmth and comfort and acceptance upon returning from the cold, even if given only by himself.

Skull could tell them all that—wants to tell them. Almost half a year since they first met, and they're more than strangers now, closer to friends than simple accomplices.

A couple of months after they took his notebook, and they all sought his forgiveness one after the other, they now all carry a notepad and pen with them, and Skull has yet to need to write down his deaths on his skin again.

Skull sits up, turning to face them, and he wants to tell them but he doesn't know what he's about to say.

The others are bathed in the light rosy-orange colors of the sky, looking so beautiful, looking so ridiculous, because apparently no one else had thought to climb up on the roof with their blanket.

Luce curls up on herself, trying to fit all of herself in her cape, but Lal's bare legs on her lap also trying to fit inside the cape makes it difficult. Lal's upper body rests against Fon's chest, sitting next to Luce, his arms awkwardly around Lal as she hides her equally bare arms inside his large sleeves.

Next to them, Viper looks warm enough because of their coat, but grumpy as Reborn had turned the end of their coat into a blanket, no doubt tugging on it until Viper gave in and extended it lest he tore it apart. He lies down at their feet, the coat wrapped around him like a cocoon, his trusted nightcap on his head.

Verde sits next to Viper, trying to fit how he can his tall body under another pan of Viper's coat that doesn’t usually exist, and he looks like a child about to nod off against their parent.

Skull laughs, incredulous, loving them so, so much in that moment, he chokes up a little, tears in his eyes, and it's a painful feeling.

I love you, burns his throat but he doesn't say it, because sometimes love is pain too, he would know, and right now he won't bear to speak it aloud.

Do you really care? he doesn't ask either because it'd be unfair of him, but not quite, not quite, and so he can't help but still doubt.

Almost half a year since they first met, and they're more than strangers now, even friends on the very good days, but they still make him feel small often enough Skull can't overlook it, and it's still evidently purposeful often enough he has to wonder.

Is it they think it's okay because Skull knows as well as them they could do so much worse, be so much more cruel? Is it they're overestimating how it affects him—that maybe they don't even realize it is affecting him to begin with—because Skull learned how to roll with the punches smiling a long time ago?

"Sometimes," Skull starts, and even then he still doesn't know what he's about to say.

Sometimes, Skull touches how many times he died and lived again, and it reminds him how he lived again where anyone else would have died, reminds him that anyone else who would have died could have been someone he knows, someone he loves.

Because Skull dies and lives again, but so far, he's the only one he knows who lives again.

Skull's immortality will never be a blessing, but it isn't always a curse, not completely, and all the time in the world and more he will have doesn't always have to be only pain.

Skull's future is granted to him but to him only, and time to say the words that have yet to be said, to give the love that have yet to be given, to share the happiness that have yet to be shared will always be available to him, but it's meaningless if the ones he wants to share that time with aren't there anymore.

"Sometimes, it reminds me how to forgive."

Chapter Text

Fon opens the door with his elbow, holding the grocery bags that'll last them for the week in both his hands. The rest of them are clumped together in the entryway, but behave under Fon's ever so slightly raised eyebrow as he walks into the kitchen.

He puts the bags on the table before he slides one away from the rest, and they waste no time pouncing in. They take a seat at the table and begrudgingly let Luce look into the bag first because of pregnancy privileges.

"Sure," Fon says. "No one helps me put away the groceries."

"You’re welcome," Reborn and Viper shoot back, and Fon rolls his eyes.

Luce snickers as she slides the bag to Lal, her disgusting, over chocolated cookies from the nearest bakery in front of her. Lal takes out her so-called lemon biscuits from the same bakery, but really, Skull tasted one of those, and it has to be made of pure bitterness only.

The grocery bag makes the round, Reborn's espresso, Verde's ice cream and Viper's strawberry milk finding their rightful owner by the time it ends up in Skull's hands.

"Fuck yeah," he cheers at the sight of his chamomile tea and kisses the box. "Tea, anyone?"

Skull's already up before the others answer and puts a cup in front of each of them no matter what they say. He's pouring the water inside them when Fon and Verde take their seat, then sits back down in turn.

He eagerly wraps his hands around his cup, the heat against his skin more than welcomed, and breathes in deeply the apple-like scent. "Fuck yeah," he says again, grinning. "Fon, you're the best. 'Love you."

Fon chuckles. "You're welcome."

"You're so dramatic," Lal mocks playfully. "What does that even mean?"

"What does that mean?" Verde spontaneously repeats, the words spilling out of his mouth, and really, it's impressive he held back this long.

Skull pauses, about to stand to get the milk, but he settles back in his seat instead. "Right, we actually have yet to have that conversation, huh?" He clears his throat. "Right. Sorry about that by the way, I should have started it sooner."

Lal raises her eyebrow. "I didn't mean it as an accusation."

Skull gives her a brief smile. "I know. But I still should have, especially when you were so obviously uncomfortable with it at first."

"I wouldn't say 'so obviously'," Reborn cuts him off, and Skull rolls his eyes so hard it's a wonder they don't get stuck. The others laugh. "Not me at the very least."

"Of course not," Skull mock agrees reverently.

"As long as we all agree I'm right."

Skull rolls his eyes again. "Anyway," he pointedly stresses, looking at Reborn, but he only smirks at him. "I'm sorry I never got around to ask if that was okay with you. I should have, and it's not that I purposefully didn't do it, you know? I just—I was just..." Skull bites his lip, wincing. He holds onto his cup of tea tight and can't bring himself to finish his sentence.

Would they think he's finding excuses for himself if he says he was afraid? Could they find him anything but pathetic hearing that when Skull has yet to explain to them what it means to him to speak love out loud wherever he finds it?

"Skull," Lal calls out, "it's fine."

"It's fine," Verde repeats. Then, after a beat, "Go on."

Reborn snorts along with some of the others. "Real smooth, Verde."

"It's fine," Skull is the one to say this time. He breathes out a laugh, slumping in his chair a little and sips his tea first. "Right, about my…"

"Confessions," Verde offers helpfully.

Skull winces. "I mean, I guess, but it's definitely not that type of—oh shit, you guys do know I've never meant it romantically, right?" He laughs, dumbfounded at his own stupidity. "Fuck, guys, I'm so sorry I never made it clear. It literally never even crossed my mind."

"Of course not," Verde deadpans, looking utterly done with him.

"We figured," Fon reassures him gently, though not without a hint of mirth in his voice, and Skull ducks his head, his fingers curling over his cup.

"I do appreciate the explicit clarification," Viper says. "No matter how late it came."

"I'm so sorry," Skull says again in earnest. "I'm just so…"

"Dumb as shit," Reborn offers oh so helpfully. "Yes, we figured."

The others laugh, Skull joining them good-naturedly, happy to have been forgiven.

"So?" Lal calls him back to attention. "What does your not-confessions mean?"

"You know," he says vaguely, not actually knowing how he should put it in words. Yet he had to find ways to put it in words before, but it won't be good enough for them. "I don't know. It's less of a confession and more—more like... everyone pouring out love in the world by the mere fact of them existing. Or something like that."

The silence answers him, stretching between them, and starkly, Skull realizes he's not used to it anymore. He tenses, biting his lip, but forces himself to lift his cup of tea to his mouth. He sips it, the sound of it nerve-rackingly loud in the silence.

"You do know we're literally the greatest criminals in the world?" Skull holds his breath, almost choking on his tea as he does. He swallows, not quite comprehending the words through his apprehension of them, and no doubt he's now sporting the same face of incredulous disbelief as the others. "You do know that, right?" Reborn asks again.

Skull laughs breathlessly, hoping it doesn't sound as obviously relieved to them as it does to his ears. "That's what—love has nothing to do with goodness."

"Maybe," Verde says, "but that’s very often a pretty strong argument."

Skull laughs again, shaking his head. He straightens in his chair, lifting one leg under him and swings the other back and forth. "You are you, greatest criminals in the world as you may be, and no one can or will ever be like you are ever again. The singularity of what you bring in the world can only be worthy of love."

"Can't say I agree with that," Lal says in that way that tells you she, in fact, strongly disagrees with you.

Skull smiles. "I don't ask you to."

"I meant, there're some real pieces of shits walking this Earth."

Skull's smile turns fond, and he purses his lips to hide it. "I never said I found love in everyone. Or that I want to for that matter. There're some real pieces of shits walking this Earth all right, we totally both agree on this one."

"Yeah, and these pieces of shits are us," Reborn starts.

"Speak for yourself," Viper cuts him off.

"Seconded," Fon and Verde say.

Reborn ignores them. "And some of us actually pride ourselves on it too. Listen—"

Fon rolls his eyes. "Reborn, my friend, you're so—"

Lal bursts out laughing. Viper does too immediately after, and soon they're all laughing.

Reborn takes it gracefully, leaning his head against his hand, elbow propped up on the armrest and his legs crossed at the knees, a pleased smirk at the corner of his lips. Both the king and the jester, and really, no one else does it like him.

Skull's laugh dies in his throat when he flicks his eyes over to Luce.

She bows her head, not a hint of a smile on her lips. She holds onto her cup of tea even if she has yet to take a sip from it, but before Skull can decide if he should say something or leave her alone, Verde speaks up again.

"Do explain one other thing to me." He marks a pause, and Skull tilts his head, raising his eyebrows curiously. "You said something about the way it's the mere fact we exist…" he purposefully trails off, and Skull is happy to fill in the rest.

"Right!" He perks up, bringing his chair closer to the table, sitting at the edge of it. This one is easy to talk about, and he's happy to talk about it. "It's in the little things, you know? Like the way I know only the grocery store across the town sells my favorite brand of chamomile tea, but Fon always makes sure to get it anyway. Or how you always ask us if we don't have any last minute clothes to wash before you do the laundry. It's the way Reborn always makes sure he's the first to go in and to come out of any place we go, or how Lal lets me give her rides on my bike when she'd rather a car any day. It's how Luce leaves us a cup of tea or glass of milk in front of our door whenever we can't sleep, or how Viper never lets us lose something for long. You know, just..." Skull smiles, flicking his eyes over them, taking them in. He scoots back in his chair, sitting properly, and settles his gaze somewhere ahead of him, not looking at anything in particular. "...the little things that mean little," he finishes, his voice tender and grateful. "But they mean the world to me, and it's of the utmost importance to me to acknowledge them and cherish them wherever and whenever I can, and as much as I can."

The others go quiet again, and Skull tries to not let it get to him. He doesn't dare look them in the eye again, wrapping his hands around his cup of tea, but the warmth against his palms is not as soothing as he'd have wanted.

He tries to not let their silence get to him, but it's hard not to when the expression on their faces... He's not sure what it means, can't put words on it, but though not all of them are bad, he doesn't think so, the one on Luce's face—

Luce has been looking down the whole time, not saying a word, a vice-like grip around her cup of tea.

Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe Skull shouldn't have answered, should have let it up to their imagination.

Of course, he didn't just blurt out the first things that came to mind, chose the ones he thought would do no harm, wouldn't make them self-aware, but this must have been embarrassing to hear all the same. At best.

At worst, it must have sounded like weakness, like vulnerability, and what if they never show these parts of them again?

This was a mistake. Skull shouldn't have answered even if he was happy to, even if he only meant it as praise and compliments.

But Verde asked—

"It sounds pretty meaningful to me too."

Skull slumps his shoulders, the tension seeping out of his body, but something else heavy to bear too settles inside him instead. A smile graces his lips even as he shakes his head. "Thank you," he says first and foremost, looking up, warm in the chest, and he hopes Fon can hear it in his voice too. "But it doesn't have to." He opens his mouth again to go on, but finds no word comes out. How should he say this? "I mean, I know it's just a tiny part of who you are, and there're so many other, bigger parts of you that make you who you are more worthy to be noticed. That's why, even if 'I love you' might sound heavy in my mouth, you don't have to hear it with any weight at all. I don't expect you to," he adds before any of them can say something, "nor do I need you to."

There's a beat of silence then, not as natural as Skull would have wanted it to be, filled with the words he didn't say, but he hopes they weren't heard too loudly all the same.

If they were, that's not what Lal asks about, and he's grateful for it. "You said it means the world for you... loving the little things wherever and whenever you can, and as much as you can."

"It does."

"Why? What do they mean to you, really?"

Everything, Skull wants to say.

Salvation, mercy, but no, it doesn't sound right, it's not anything that big.

"It—" he cuts himself off, wincing. He clears his throat, but the lump in it chokes him still. It doesn't go away, and suddenly, for how much he always thinks about it even now, how much he knows what it means to him and how much it means to him, he doesn't know if he can speak it out loud. "A little less pain," he finally hears himself say with a strangled voice. "For when, inevitably, it'll only be me and my immortality. A little less pain," he breathes out again, his voice more heavy than the first time, more shaky. "Or so I can only hope."

Chapter Text

"Skull, eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"Yes, you are."

"I'm not hungry," Skull says again, truly not hungry.

Not when the seat in front of him is empty where Luce should have been, not when her breakfast is turning cold too.

Her absence weighs heavy in the air, weighs it down with a wariness akin to their first days together, even more tangible now that Skull can easily see it under their affected indifference.

"Starving yourself won't put food in her stomach," Reborn tries again, and doesn't sound like he cares about how it won't put food in her stomach, and Skull hates that he doesn't.

Luce's seat is empty, and her absence seems to speak volume to the others, seems to have told them all they needed to know when they came down in the kitchen and Luce didn't, when they started eating and Luce still didn't come down too.

"She won't come down," Verde says as if reading his thoughts, with the same finality in his voice as the one on their faces when Skull came back down in the kitchen, and Luce hadn't followed after him.

It's a cold one, and Skull hates to hear it, hates the way they're all eating as if Luce's seat isn't empty and there's nothing to be done about her empty seat.

Skull can't make them understand if they've already made up their mind.

"Better she doesn't," Viper adds, speaking out loud what they were all loudly thinking.

And it wasn't a threat—not yet—, but the words desperately spill out of Skull's mouth anyway, "She had a nightmare."

Reborn scoffs. "Please." He sounds harsh, bitter, and whatever else he was about to say, he clenches his jaw instead, not quite smoothing out his face into an unreadable blank mask again.

"You felt it too, didn't you?" Fon asks, not looking up at him, a hint of sadness in the otherwise closed up expression of his face. "It might have been under emotional stress, but her intentions were quite—" he cuts himself off abruptly, pursing his lips. "You can't expect us to overlook it."

She had a nightmare and lashed out, Skull wants to scream. That's what people do, it doesn't mean anything. How unfair can you be to want so badly to read the worst in it?

Skull bites his lip and doesn't say anything. He did feel it too, the scorch of her flames on his skin, how they had burnt into it don't come near me.

Luce had stepped back as if she was the one attacking, as if she couldn't bear to be close to them, couldn't let herself be close to them, and suddenly, his burnt skin spelled out I'm not trustworthy.

And if she isn't, who else among them isn't either?

And what else can untrustworthy people mean in their world but death?

"Just eat," Reborn says again, uncaring, akin to the Reborn of their first days together. "You don't eat because she won't, so what?"

"So she'll know her pain means something to me."

"Fuck you."

Lal abruptly stands, her chair falling loudly on the floor. Skull flinches back, shrinks under her gaze, and tears well up in his eyes at her shaking fists on the table, the curve of her pursed lips.

"Lal..." he croaks out.

"Fuck you," Lal spits out again, averting her eyes, and she leaves the kitchen in a heavy silence.

Skull gives himself a moment before he stands in turn, wiping his eyes dry. He swallows the shame and guilt in his throat, then leaves the kitchen too, taking Luce's breakfast on a tray with him.

That was cruel of him, especially when he knows it's not that they don't want to give her the benefit of the doubt too, but that they never learned how, that they saw often enough why it's better they never do. He knows, but...

He wants so badly to apologize to Lal, he will, but first, he needs to see Luce.

Luce, who may have lashed out at them, purposefully at them, but more than the scorch of her flames, Skull remembers the scream she woke up from her nightmare with, and he has to let her know it didn't go unheard.

"Luce?" Skull puts down the tray aside and knocks at her door. "Hey, it's me again. I brought you your breakfast. Luce?" He pauses knocking, straining his ear, then presses it against the door when he doesn't hear anything. "Luce, are you okay in there? It's me, it's Skull, I'm alone. Please, open the door." She doesn't as he knocks again, and knocks and knocks, and keeps knocking. "I'm sorry I'm insisting like that, I swear I don't want you to do anything you don't want to, but we can't have Luce Jr starving now, can we? Please, open the door, just for a second. I just want to see your face, and hear you say to me face to face that you're fine and want to be left alone."

Skull pauses, listening in again. This time, there's movement behind the door, so he lowers his arm and steps back.

When Luce opens the door, she surprisingly opens it fully.

She stands in the doorway, a step from being out of her room, facing him but not looking at him. She lets him see her face as he asked, her red-rimmed eyes and her tears-stained cheeks, her blood-red lip and her tussled hair.

"Hey babe," Skull says softly. "You look awful." Luce's face is blank but so frail at the same time, except for her eyes, always her eyes. They’re still as tormented as they were last night even if she clearly spent the night crying. Skull flicks his eyes to her belly, noticeably carrying a baby by now. He moves his hand to touch it but thinks better of it. "How's Luce Jr?"

Luce catches his eye at last and bursts into tears. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" She falls on her knees, Skull stepping in to break her fall, and she holds onto his arms like a lifeline. "I'm sorry, Skull, I'm so sorry!"

Skull wrenches himself free as if burnt.

He steps back, his heart stuck in his throat, beating so loudly in his ears, and he can't breathe anymore.

She said his name—why did she say his name, why did she single him out?

What is she apologizing about?

What would she need to apologize to him so desperately for, almost incoherent through her tears, to beg his forgiveness for, on her knees, her head held so low?

What did she see last night?

Skull feels sick, feels terrified, frozen on the spot while his every instinct screams at him to get away, and he can't breathe anymore, he can't breathe, he can't breathe—

Luce wouldn't do that to him.

"I'm sorry," she says again and again, "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry, Skull, I'm so sorry..." She sobs, the sounds tearing out of her throat like an explosion of shrapnel, her tears pouring and pouring down her cheeks, and she doesn't look like she'll ever bear to stand again, like she'll ever be able to even raise her head again. "You'll never love me again," she chokes out, whimpering, and it's one of the most painful sounds he's ever heard.

Skull fiercely shakes his head, and absentmindedly, he realizes tears roll down his cheeks too. "I love you. I'll always love you."

Luce shakes her head in turn, curling on herself as much as she can, and it's one of the saddest sights he's ever seen.

Some days, the reflection of his soul in hers is agony to watch, and right now, the reflection of her soul in his seems to have laid it bare, raw with pain, to have shattered it in bleeding pieces.

Skull kneels in front of her, and as her body tenses away from him, he knows that Luce's pain, the one that calls to his own has only ever been pain, has only ever been punishment. That she can't fathom a pain similar to hers to be anything else when she never knew anything else, and that's why she has ever only looked at his pain with sad, pained eyes and heartbreaking understanding.

Her visions—because what else could it be—have only weighed down on her shoulders like a burden, have only ever taken from her.

But Luce will have him.

Even if they salvage whatever this is, the others won't ever have the same relationship with her as before, but Luce is the closest thing to everything he thought he'd never have, and she'll always have him, whatever comes her way.

"You'll hate me," Luce's saying now, her voice breaking on the words, no more than a whine rising from the back of her throat. "You'll hate me, you'll hate me..."

"I'll always love you." Skull puts his hands on her shoulders, straightening her despite her reluctance to hold her in his arms properly. "Of course, I'll always love you. Don't you know what you mean to me?"

What did you see? claws at his throat. Why will you let it happen?

It's the easiest thing to do to swallow the words down, to ignore the knot in his stomach.

Skull's the last person that would ever do that to her.

What if she would do it to you?

Luce shakes her head again, pushing against his chest to pull herself free. "You'll hate me, you will. I know—" her voice breaks again, and she chokes out yet another sob, her fingers curling on his shirt.

Skull pulls away enough to face her and cradles her face in his hands. He brushes her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ears, but doesn't try to make her meet his eyes. "Even then. Sometimes, love is pain, even if you don't happen to be called Skull and be immortal, right?" Luce doesn't laugh, doesn't smile, looks even sadder than before. Skull strokes her cheeks with his thumbs, and she looks up at him at his smile. "Even then," he says again. "I'd love you still. I know I will."

Luce's eyes well up with tears all over again, her face twisting into something so heart-wrenching, Skull almost cries again. She looks down, covering her mouth with both her hands, muffling her cries so mercilessly, they shake her body almost silently.

Then she stills, even when tears still roll down her cheeks, and slowly lowers her hands to hold onto his shirt again. "I won't." She sobs once before she bites her lip until it bleeds as she blinks the tears out of her eyes. "You'll keep loving me because I won't." She finds his eyes again, and this time, she looks at him head on, and her vice-like grip on his shirt feels like she's holding onto his lifeline. "I won't, I won't, I won't!" she says it again and again, and when Skull hugs her again, she lets him.

What if she would do it to you?

Skull holds Luce tight, stroking her hair, and it's the easiest thing to do to ignore the voice in his mind, to not let it feed into his fears.

Not when Luce cries for him, so obviously as terrified as him to lose him when they've only just found each other, as desperate as him to keep him by his side for as long as she can.

And her words might not sound like a promise as she says them again and again, sound too much like desperate hope already slipping between her fingers, but even then.

"Either way," Skull says into her hair, soft but resolute. "I'd love you still."

Chapter Text

Skull startles awake, his eyes snapping open as he's hauled up by the collar of his shirt. He makes out the outline of a nightcap through bleary, frantic eyes, and immediately the tension leaves his body, sleep slamming back into him like a truck.

"Jesus Christ, Skull," Reborn says, straddling him, a vague silhouette in the dark, and Skull has no intention to be kept awake long enough to see clearer through the dark. "Do you know how many times I could have killed you by now? You're not on a fucking vacation, you can't just allow yourself to sleep so soundly."

"You're watching over me," Skull mumbles, his head lolling back, already nodding back to sleep. What is Reborn even doing here? What time is it? "Is everyone okay?"

"They're fine, that's—" Skull goes limp, closing his eyes, and is halfway gone already when Reborn shakes him awake, almost snapping his neck with the force of it. God, what does he want? "Who said you could go back to sleep? Look at this."

White light flashes in his eyes at literally point-blank, and Skull flinches his head away, groaning. "Reborn! What the—" He can't go far because Reborn still holds him up by his shirt, and he blindly reaches out to push his hand—and his goddamn phone—away.

Reborn has none of it, doesn't let him budge his arm at all, the light of his phone shining on his face and through his closed eyes. "Oh, you'll live. Just look at it before you miss it."

Skull has half the idea to flip his shit considering Reborn has clearly lost his mind. He squints his eyes open, glaring at the phone until he can make out the screen, way too damn close to his face. Does Reborn think he's blind or something?

He blinks at it, not seeing anything noteworthy on the screen, then up at Reborn.

Reborn surprisingly doesn't roll his eyes at him, his focus intent on him. "What time is it?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Skull blurts out. "The time? The fucking time? Get the fuck out of my room."

Reborn flicks his eyes somewhere to the left—his bedside table? Oh, his alarm clock—, and briefly frowns. He shakes him again before he drops him back on the bed. "You're going to miss it. Just look."

Skull wants to sleep, especially now he feels his comfortable mattress under him again, but Reborn is serious about whatever this is, gently and patiently serious at that, and he can't make himself say no to him.

He reluctantly focuses back on Reborn's phone, still too close to his face. It's 23h59, and nothing happens as he watches the four numbers, but Reborn is still waiting for it in silence, intently watching him watch the screen.

"Midnight," he says, as the time switches to midnight indeed, sounding so obviously pleased, Skull knows he's smirking before even looking up at him.

"Reborn, what the fuck? What the actual fuck?"

"Happy new day," he purrs in a sing-song voice, getting off of him, now for sure out of his goddamn mind. He puts away his phone, looming over him on his knees, and unceremoniously pushes him away. "Scoot over. I'm sleeping here tonight."

He slips inside the blanket before Skull can answer, kicking him and elbowing him to naturally claim more space on the bed he wasn't invited on.

"This is why nobody likes you," Skull deadpans.

Reborn smiles prettily at him, fluttering his eyelashes, and kicks and elbows him harder.

Skull wakes up so very well rested, he only wants to fall right back to sleep. He sprawls on the bed, Reborn's side already cold, the sun warming his back as well as Reborn's gaze.

"I thought you'd never wake up."

"Wasn't that the point?" Skull mumbles sleepily. "Love you by the way. Sun flames have always been my favorite, just so you know."

There's a split second beat, either an eye-roll or a smirk, maybe even a silent laugh. "It was. But I was starting to think my job conditioning might just have taken over."

"Jeez, thanks." Skull shifts on his side, contently mushing his face into his pillow. A breeze flutters his blanket and blows through his hair, and he scrunches up his nose, raising his head to look at Reborn. He sits on the windowsill, all dressed up and ready for the day, a cigarette between his fingers. "Really? No smoking in my room. We don't all have Sun-made lungs."

Reborn takes a drag of his cigarette, looking him dead in the eye, and for a second, Skull really thinks he's about to blow the smoke inside. He waits one beat too long to not do that, and Skull rolls his eyes at the mirthful glint in his eyes.

"As if Cloud-made lungs have anything to complain about. Just get out of bed already, will you?"

"Yes, Mom," Skull mocks, but does drag himself out of his bed as lazily and slowly as he can.

He drags his feet to the bathroom, only dropping his blanket on the floor once he reaches the door.

"Don't slip in there."

"Yes, Mom."

"I'm going to shoot you."

Skull snickers, closing the door behind him without looking back. He doesn't slip while showering because he's not a kid anymore, thank you very much, but considers faking a fall anyway to test the waters of whatever's going on with Reborn.

He doesn't, too content of his morning so far to risk ruining it.

They come out of his room together, side by side, Reborn half a step behind him. He matches his pace exactly, silent as if on a job, and Skull feels trailed.

"Careful," Reborn says as they climb down the stairs.

"What?"

"Don’t slip."

"What?"

"The stairs. You could slip. Be careful."

Skull bites the inside of his cheek, successfully not making a noise as his face twists in incredulous laughter. He climbs down the stairs one by one, his pace safe and careful, staying self-aware of each step he takes.

He swallows down his laughter before he pauses on the next step, twirling his feet slightly to look at Reborn. "Is there something I should know?"

It looks like some idiots might try to take them on again, either him specifically or all of them. Skull usually doesn't care to know the details, but Reborn being so personally involved makes him think that maybe he should.

Reborn gives him a secretive smile. "Who knows," he drawls out in that tone that says 'I know, but I won't tell you'. "Is there a problem?"

Skull shakes his head, pursing his lips to contain his grin. He climbs down the rest of the stairs with a joyful, safe and careful bounce in his steps, flashing a grin to anyone who'd care to see it.

Whatever's going on and why he can't know about it, it's being taken care of and he's being looked after, and that's all he cares to know about the matter.

The others welcome them in the kitchen with a chorus of "Morning" and "Took you long enough" and "I thought you were dead", and Skull laughs it off, letting Reborn do the snappy comebacks for the both of them. He sits next to Luce, eagerly eyeing his breakfast.

"Let's dig in!" he says, even when the others are halfway done with their food already, if not done entirely.

"Slept well?" Luce asks.

"So well," Skull says around a mouthful of scrambled eggs. "God bless."

"Reborn's fine."

"God forbid," Lal deadpans as Skull blows Reborn a kiss, and the others laugh.

"Do you have plans for today?"

Skull glances up at Fon, making sure he's the one being talked to. "I'm gonna try the latest updates of my bike in town. Promised some kids I'd give them a ride too."

"Seriously?" Viper asks, skepticism dripping from their voice. "Do their parents know about that? Have they ever seen you drive?"

"You take that back this instant. I'm the best goddamn driver you'll ever see."

"It doesn't mean anyone should let you drive their kids."

"We do agree I'm the best goddamn driver you'll ever see then." He grins cheekily. "Thank you, that's the kindest thing you've ever said to me."

"Oh, shut up. But you might as well give me a ride too. I'm going to town today too."

Skull laughs. "Sure."

"Me too, actually," Fon says. There's somewhere I need to go."

"Okay, but my bike is only—"

"We'll take the car," Lal cuts him off. "I have somewhere I need to go too."

Skull pauses, his spoon halfway to his open mouth. He blinks, then narrows his eyes, more incredulous than suspicious. "Right."

"Great," Reborn says cheerfully, reaching for the coffee carafe yet again. "I'll drive."

"I'll drive," Lal immediately corrects.

"As long as I'm not in the middle," Verde cuts in.

Skull narrows his eyes again, this time entirely out of suspicion. He straightens in his chair, disregarding his food. "Okay, what's going on here?" He stares them down each in turn with what he hopes is an intimidating gaze, but only gets fake, innocent looks in return. He stares down Luce last and raises his eyebrows. "What's going on? I assume you're coming too?"

Luce gives him her prettiest smile. "Of course. Oh, I know!" She claps once, her face bright, childish excitement in her eyes. "What about a picnic? Seeing as we're all going out together."

She grins wider, and Skull doesn't even want to try to not give in. He huffs a laugh, shaking his head, but grinning widely all the same.

A picnic sounds like a super great idea, actually.

"So you all lost your mind overnight, huh? It's okay, don't worry. I'll watch over you."

They take the car, Skull his bike, but Verde's the one riding behind him. The garage door opens on a bright sunny day, clear sky and sun-rays shining on the paved driveway, hot breeze invitingly ruffling the leaves of the trees beyond the gate. They take opposite directions around the flower bed in the middle of the driveway at a barely tolerable snail pace as far as Skull's concerned.

"One, two, comms test," Lal's voice sounds through his earpiece. "Do you copy?"

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am."

"Good. You can get lost now."

"Too boring to even try keeping up?" Reborn taunts.

"So cute you're still desperately wanting me to give a fuck enough to try to impress you," Lal shoots back without missing a beat.

"Just fucking make out already," Viper says.

Skull rolls his eyes and lightly shakes his head. He grins. "I'm going ahead," he warns over their bickering, and Verde wraps his arms even more tightly around his waist. "Buckle up," he tells him cheerfully.

"There's no belt," Verde shoots back stiffly.

Skull speeds up along the driveway, past the gate onto the forest road, trees standing tall on both its sides. His bike vibrates under him like a content, purring animal, straight through his body to his veins, and his blood pumps. The wind clings to his figure, slamming against his leather suit jumpsuit and splitting away as he tears into it. It roars in a back and forth with his engine, muffled by his helmet, but it's as beautiful a sound as ever.

Skull serves right inside the forest, his bike immediately jolting on the uneven ground.

"No!" Verde cries. "Why?"

"Testing the wheels!" Skull screams back gleefully.

Skull doesn't slow down, makes it a game to swerve around the trees as they pop up to block his way, walls of brown bark he's seemingly about to drive into before they abruptly disappear to the side as he makes a sharp turn around them. The trees' leaves come together high above them, the sun shining patch of yellow lights on the dirt road through the gaps, and Skull chooses his path one ray of light after another. His bike jolts here and there, them with it, driving over roots and cracking branches under its wheels, leaving a trail on the ground. Skull feels a little bad about damaging the environment, but he'll fix it later.

Soon, he glimpses the proper tarmac road between the trees and drives back onto the forest road, then out on the open road. Behind him, Verde is a bundle of tensed muscles, holding on his waist for dear life, his chest flushed tight against his back. Skull bites his lip, a silent, fond laugh shaking in his chest.

He slows down a little without a word. "You know," he starts casually, trying to distract him, "as long as you don't throw up, you'll be one of the best passengers I've ever had."

"Slow down more," Verde grits through his teeth.

Skull chuckles but obliges, and Verde's iron clad grip around his waist loosens slightly.

"Oh, here they are," Reborn says, his voice dripping with mockery. "At long last."

Skull glances at his rearview mirror, and here they are, a good couple of feet behind them. "Woah, Lal," he praises, only half teasing. "A lot of people have done a lot worse, congrats."

"Fuck you. I just wanted Reborn to shut the fuck up."

"More like you can't say no to anything I want," Reborn purrs.

Lal says nothing, but Skull can just feel her deadpan, utterly done expression in his bones. Or is it a knowing grin, playful and soft and exasperatedly fond, the one that always throws Reborn off his game?

"For fuck's sake," Viper grumbles. "Get a room or get me out of this car."

"This is a fifteen minutes drive," Fon tries to mediate. "Everyone just plays nice."

"Skull?" Luce calls out, in that tone that says she already knows the answer to her question but is still hoping for a different one. "Aren't you going to slow down?"

"What for?"

"What do you mean 'what for'," Lal immediately goes off on him. "You're just going to drive in town at that speed?"

"Maybe you can't," Skull says in a sing-song tone, "but I'll do just fine."

Verde sighs, peeling himself off of his back. "This is it. Get me off of this motorcycle."

"I thought you'd never ask," Reborn says almost too quickly. "Skull, get back here."

Skull slows down yet again as Lal speeds up, a pout on his lips, but curious about whatever Reborn's up to. Lal comes up to his level and he moves to the passenger side, sticking close to the car at Reborn's guidance.

"All right, both of you, stay like that." He takes his seat belt off and lowers the window. "Now, Verde, jump on—" Lal brakes the car and Reborn's body shoots forwards, his head slamming against the dashboard before he's knocked back against his seat. "Mother. fucker!"

Skull bursts out laughing, sliding in a one eighty against the road for an abrupt stop. The others burst out laughing too once the surprise wears off, and Skull laughs so much he has to remove his helmet.

Lal's voice strikes like a whip through their hilarity. "What. do you think you're doing?"

"I was going to switch places with Verde," Reborn snaps back, his tone biting. "Do you have a fucking problem with that?"

"While we were driving?"

"When else?"

"Right now? While we're both not driving?"

Reborn scoffs, his hand still on his forehead because he's so very dramatic, as if he was hurt more than the millisecond his flames needed to deal with the damage.

"No way," Fon's the one to answer. "Where's the fun in that? I'm next after Reborn."

"I am not jumping on the roof of a moving car just so you can have fun pulling a movie stunt," Verde says.

Reborn glares through the windshield. "Don't be a boring fuck."

"Shut the fuck up, Reborn, of course he's not going to do that. He's going to walk over here and you're going to walk over to Skull, and no one—Luce, will you stop fucking laughing? Are you kidding me? Aren't you the four months pregnant one here? Don't you care?"

Luce has been laughing ever since Reborn kissed the windshield hello and doesn't sound like she's about to stop anytime soon. She doesn't even seem to have heard Lal, laughing so hard, Skull's about to burst out laughing again any second now too.

"There you have it," Reborn says smugly. "Let me hear those engines."

Lal faces the wheel again and exhales a short, exasperated breath. "You're all so stupid." She looks at them through the windshield, then to the side at Reborn, then up at the rearview mirror, and back again in front of her. She starts the car, sighing. "So fucking stupid."

Skull drives into town with Reborn in his passenger seat, and pointedly doesn't slow down even if he left Lal in the dust right away. He knows these roads by now anyway, or well enough at least he isn't about to run over anyone or have an accident, or be caught by the police if they choose to pursue him today.

The cars are few and the sidewalks packed, the town's people out to enjoy the bright sunny day. They turn their head to watch him drive past them like sunflowers turning to the sun, scream in surprise as he sharply rounds corners, scream in outrage and embarrassment as the wind lifts their dresses and skirts in his wake.

Skull tries his bike on the assholes' favorite roads, passing them while keeping as close to their, oh so very precious cars as he can, just to hear their children cheer him on over their furious honks and screams. He does not run red lights despite Reborn's taunts—even if of course, he could do it safely—, but does drive past the police station as loudly as he can so he'd stop poking him grumpily already.

"Fuck you!" the policemen shout after them like their life depends on it.

Reborn bursts out laughing, sharp and clear and delighted, and shouts back absolute filth to shame and embarrass even the world's most promiscuous woman.

Skull laughs so hard he has tears in his eyes and almost crashes them.

He drives more into town to more residential areas and does slow down then, lest Lal have his head. He takes the way to the park, honking gratefully whenever he happens to pass by a fan who loudly cheers and spurs him on.

The kids he promised a ride to wait for him near the park's entrance, perched on the wall surrounding it, jumping and waving and screaming for him.

Reborn reaches for his helmet, turns off his comms, and oh, this can't be good. "Go over to them."

Skull goes over to them, moving from the road to the sidewalk, because this won't be good but it'll be fun.

Little ten years old Sofia reaches her arm out, and Reborn snatches her like a ripe fruit from a branch, catching her around the waist as Skull gets back on the road.

Oh, they're so fucking dead.

"Are you out of your—" Sofia's screaming her throat out in pure delight, laughing, and her friends are as loud as her, half cheering and half calling dibs for who will be next. Sofia has her arms around Reborn's neck, hanging on like some backpack fluttering in the air before Reborn properly settles her on his back in a piggyback ride. "Never mind, I'm very easy to influence."

"Good boy," Reborn praises. "Drive fast enough, and she'll only be a blur her parents won't be able to recognize."

Skull chuckles, but then laughs in earnest, and probably doesn't slow down as much as he should considering the circumstances.

Lal is so going to have their heads.

Skull drives around the block until Sofia screams their voice raw before he drops them by the park and goes looking for the others. Reborn and Fon switch places swiftly, and Skull can pretend to not hear Lal until he drives away as soon as he can.

Fon turns off his comms again as soon as they're out of sight. "What did you do? Let me in on the fun."

Skull snickers, taking the way to the park again, because who is he to deny Fon when he sounds so mischievous?

Fourteen years old Christian throws himself at them, all lanky limbs and no sense of distance, and Skull has to tilt his bike low for Fon to catch him. The weight almost makes them go down, but Skull's better than that, straightening the bike again, Fon using the momentum to haul Christian away from the road. He swiftly shuffles him in his arms like some kind of basketball and settles him on his shoulders in a fireman's carry.

"Some bold fans you have," Fon says over Christian's shrill laughter, and Skull takes it as the compliment it is.

"Hell yeah, they are."

These kids will so be grounded forever, and Skull will sure as hell make it worth it.

He drives by the park yet again, this time with Viper behind him. They don't think twice either at playing "catch a kid midair while on a super fast driving bike", and Skull's very proud of all of them for that.

Viper squeezes Mattia between them and counter-productively threatens her with tickles if she keeps fidgeting in excitement. They come back around the park again for the last promised ride, and Angelica hears much more ominous threats as she tries to sneak a glance past their hood.

"Here's the plan," Viper says when Skull parks near the other park they decided to meet at—thank God it was the other one—, the one with tables and nicer grass to sit on.

"I'm listening."

"Play dumb and say nothing."

Skull snorts. "Yeah, that'll save our asses for sure."

The others chose the grass, sitting under a tree. Lal waits for them, standing, looking straight at them. She has her hand on her hip, eating a slice of watermelon with the other one, and Skull chooses to look right past her.

Behind her, Luce's preparing the cheese and ham piadina, their picnic on top of a purple cloth laid out in front of her. She sits against the tree, Verde next to her, his legs stretched out in front of him over Reborn's back, crossed at the ankles. Reborn lies on the floor, eating his insalata di riso without a care in the world.

Next to him, Fon's not quite as good at playing innocent, so focused on playing innocent, he feeds Reborn pears and cheese whenever he cues him in by opening his mouth more than he eats them himself.

Skull flops down on Luce's other side, Viper sitting down next to him. "Thanks for waiting for us."

Luce smiles. "I told them to, but they didn't listen."

"Thank you," Verde says. "So much for me waiting for you."

They chuckle, and Skull leans forward to make a playful face at him.

"Had fun?" Luce asks.

"Had fun?" Lal repeats, and Skull's not so eager to answer all of a sudden. He quickly grabs a slice of watermelon, takes big bites of it to stuff his mouth full, and then looks up at Lal. She stands between Viper and Fon, closing their little circle, both her hands on her hips now. Skull nods. "Really? What about the kids you promised a ride to? Shouldn't you be on that by now?" Skull hums noncommittally, exaggeratedly chewing, and moves his shoulders in what may or may not be a shrug.

"Their parents called to cancel," Viper comes to the rescue.

Lal doesn't even try to pretend to believe them, snorting. She sits down, one arm resting on top of her knee, maintaining eye contact the whole time. "And when did you learn that while driving like dangerous idiots through town?"

"He stopped to take the call, obviously."

"Obviously." She smiles. "Show me the call."

Viper marks a pause, then another, then another. Luce hands him a sandwich that he hands  to Viper, who quickly takes the biggest bite of it they can to keep their mouth occupied.

Lal rolls her eyes. "I hope you both choke and die." They both laugh, almost spitting their food right out of their mouths, maybe or maybe not choking on it. Lal sighs, grabbing a bowl of salad. "What about you, idiots?" she says, glancing at Fon and Reborn. "Anything to say for yourselves?"

"I mean, nobody died," Fon offers helpfully.

"Jesus," Reborn and Verde say at the same time, and Verde even snorts.

It prompts Reborn to chuckle as Viper slaps their hand against their mouth. Skull purses his lips, trying very hard to not laugh too.

"What?" Fon asks.

"Wow, really?" Lal says in mock pleasant surprise, or tries to, but she looks and sounds about to laugh any second now. "Nobody died? What a relief."

"What?" Fon says again defensively. "That's a solid argument. Aren't you actually glad to know no one died?" Viper finally swallows their food and promptly bursts out laughing, cackling in earnest. It spreads to all of them, Skull's laughter spilling out from his mouth, but none of them laughs as hard as Viper. "Viper—" Viper lets themself fall sideways on his lap, and laughs, and keeps laughing, and laughs again.

Fon takes a deep breath, closing his eyes, then exhales slowly. His smile's kind and serene, but twitches as Viper's still laughing. "Thank you for the meal. Let's hope no blood finds its way to it."

The others apparently have real things to do and real places to be so they cut their digestive rest short. Skull takes his bike with him even when the others decide to go on foot, but paces his speed with theirs to stay at their level.

"I hope you know how utterly stupid you look right now," Verde says.

"So?"

"So you're making us look fucking stupid," Reborn complains. "Stay farther in the back."

"Aw, babe," Skull says flirtatiously. He winks. "Don't make me scream loudly your name until you throttle me dead."

Reborn smiles. "I'll throttle you dead all right, sweetheart."

Skull laughs along with Luce, though her laughter's noticeably more subdued. She sits behind him, both legs over to one side, lightly kicking them back and forth.

She wasn't going to ask, but her face lit up when Skull offered this safe way to give her a ride too, and he isn't going to let what other people might think of them take it away from her.

They make their way through the town's streets like that, buying gelato to cool them off from the sun. The others take their turn leading them to wherever they need to go, and Skull follows along idly, sightseeing as they go.

Somehow, it means meeting what must be the sweetest elderly people in town. They pay for Ande’s groceries while learning all about his grandkids, sit on Sara's patio while watching her wife tend their garden, hang out the laundry for Ginevra, trying to not get hit by a strayed football from the kids she's babysitting.

Dan hands the leash of their dog to Viper's before they hold their hand, thanking and complimenting them, and seemingly not planning to stop anytime soon.

Skull's lips twitch, the idea of Viper walking a dog funnier than he thought it'd be.

"Am I having a fever dream?" he whispers to Luce.

"Networking," she explains, whispering back.

"Oh."

Right. Reborn did say something once about how important the support of the elderly is.

"Not a word," Viper warns the second Dan closes the door on them.

Oscar is a little menace of a brown chihuahua, taking Viper for a walk more than the reverse, and there's a lot of snorts and muffled laughter if not words. He poops twice, and each time Fon looks to be having the time of his life.

Reborn brings them to a gun shop, either for personal enjoyment or work, it's hard to say. His eyes sparkle at the display on the shelves as he entirely ignores the vendor hitting none too subtly on him.

He swiftly takes notice of the guns worth his time, and sits right on the floor to disassemble them to thoroughly inspect them. Skull doesn't know if it's actually something allowed in gun shops, but when he glances at the vendor, his smitten look only tells him he wouldn't care even if Reborn set his shop on fire.

Lal sits herself next to Reborn, her eyes as merciless as his, both praising or tearing apart each gun in turn, no in between. The rest of them amuse themselves by giving the most threatening looking guns to Fon and having him take aim.

It's a hilarious sight solely because they know who Fon is and how unlikely it is to ever happen, but it doesn't stop them from laughing.

"I do know how to use guns," Fon points out when they start sounding hysterical, taking aim at them with a shotgun, and they only laugh harder.

Skull perks up when he recognizes the way to the street fair he noticed earlier while speeding through the town on his bike. The music's loud, different ones from different shows overlapping together, and it's incomprehensible but somehow still a bop. The dancers he can see across the street—a parents and kids show as far as he can tell— are off-beat but perfectly in sync with the music at the same time too.

They weave through the crowd, from families to couples to old people, and everything they're eating he can only glance at as they pass by each other waters his mouth. The heavenly scent in the air from the various booths lined up on each side of the street doesn't help, and Skull doesn't know which one he wants to try first.

There's not only food though, pops of colors from clothes and paintings, as well as the shiny, peculiar trinkets calling to him as much as the food.

They go their separate ways, Verde and him with Luce, Reborn with Fon, and Viper with Lal. Luce starts a conversation with a couple apparently also interested in pretty, handmade napkins, and Verde and him discreetly watch her back from a couple of booths back.

Skull tries to be discreet anyway, but whether he actually is or not doesn't matter. Luce said she's only meeting members of her family to make sure everything's going well over there, the way Fon's probably hearing right now about the China underworld and Lal about COMSUBIN.

Nothing dangerous, so he doesn't feel bad about his focus being snatched away, widening his eyes.

"Gotta go, 'be right back," he rushes to say.

"Wha—" Skull shoves his slice of watermelon at Verde—God, he loves watermelon—, and runs off without looking back.

He keeps his surprise securely hidden in a bag until they regroup together before he gleefully takes them out. He puts one on his head and holds out the others to them, three on each hand.

He grins from ear to ear. "Surprise! Bought with love."

Luce gasps, covering her mouth with her hand while Reborn flashes a smile, laughing approvingly. The others look overjoyed too, various, more or less strong reluctant feelings fleeting across their faces in disbelief.

Skull enticingly shakes the straw hats, as big as Luce's mushroom one, but so much more outlandishly colorful and eye-catching. And perhaps they're not pretty per se, but who cares about pretty when they're cool as shit.

Patchwork of colorful cloths cover the straw part, large ribbon around the crown peppered with glitters and tied in a giant bow tie catching the light. A bouquet of colorful tall feathers or flowers decorates the ribbon, while a veil falls over the brim, abstract painting in pastel colors on the white silk, with dangling little bells at its end.

Of course, Skull chose the hat with all of it on it.

"How will I wear it though?" Luce asks sadly, gesturing dejectedly at the hat she's already wearing.

"They have strings," Skull immediately reassures her.

Luce gasps again, clapping her hands. "So the perfect hat does exist."

"I know, right?"

Reborn laughs, reaching out for one of the hats. "Are you trying to seduce me or something?"

"I know, right?" Skull says again excitedly, bouncing on his feet, then waves the hats again for the others. "It's either these, or you register as a group with me for the dancing contest."

The others sigh, and the hats look absolutely ridiculous on all of them, and Luce and him laugh themselves to tears at the profoundly offended or otherwise disheartened expression on their faces.

Skull'll be damned if it isn't the best thing that'll happen today.

Verde sighs again. "I'm not teaching wearing this."

Skull gasps, then gaps, then grins.

Okay, Skull be damned because this is only the best second thing that'll happen today.

It's late afternoon when the kids run inside the local school, straight for the only classroom Verde was given the key to. Skull watches incredulously through the window how happy they are, running to what looks like in every way actual school. The others and he sit at the back of the classroom—an honest to God classroom, what even is going on—, and giggle for no reason as they keep glancing at each other.

The kids barely acknowledge them, even with their hats still on their heads, and ignore them as soon as they do. They take their respective seats, gathered together at the front, and dutifully take out their homework from their bags.

There're kids from different grades needing help on different subjects, and Verde looks like a fish in the water, smoothly going from one kid to another, sitting beside them to explain their subject as many times as they need, each time differently until it clicks.

Sir Verde, they call him, trying to keep his attention for themselves as long as they can, and Skull has the distinct impression they take their sweet time doing their homework so they'll finish as late as possible. They purposefully ask their questions so Verde will get distracted too, going into topics about math and science and history, but always answering their questions first.

He always ends up by the board, a chalk between his fingers, drawing schema and writing keywords, while answering the kids' questions until he remembers to not indulge them too much and that they're supposed to be doing homework.

"Stop looking at me like that," Verde says suddenly through the comms, sitting at the teacher’s desk in a rare moment the kids aren't asking for his attention.

"Like I'm going to miss even a single second of this," Reborn answers right away, and Skull couldn't agree more.

"It's just…" he tries "… Sir Verde," he finishes, starting another round of giggles between him and the others.

Verde rolls his eyes. "I don't actually have a teaching degree if that's what you're wondering about. I'll simply always be the best at translating my intelligence to make it understandable. If it can help these kids grow their own intelligence, one similar to mine or not, it's time worth spending, nothing more."

"They love you," Fon says matter-of-factly, a bit of wonder in his voice.

It resonates hard within Skull and with everything he's feeling right now, his eyes glued to Verde, fascinated, unable to look away. He crosses his arms on his desk and comfortably rests his head on top of them.

The class goes on and Skull watches with rapt attention, a light smile on his lips. He flicks his eyes to the others from time to time, with those gorgeous hats he bought them still on, thinking back to the improbable and not so improbable places and things they brought him to and he saw them do today.

It's truly a wonderful sight to witness, how alike they are even when they couldn't be more different, people at the top of what they love to do or otherwise what they're best at, committing every day to stay the best at it and nurture the ones who’ll come after them to the best of their abilities. Such a wonderful sight how universally human the most unique people can be, and how easy it is to not only see but recognize each other through our respective uniqueness.

Skull hides his smile behind his arms, his heart fluttering in his chest, not wanting the others to notice it when for now, he only wants to soak in the feeling and keep it for himself.

Skull loves them so much, and for how many reasons this could go wrong or only be temporary, he might just get to keep loving them for a long while still.

They go back home under the setting sun, Lal strictly keeping him under a speed where she can actually enjoy the ride. It means more time to enjoy the sunset so Skull doesn't even mind.

The others make it back to the mansion safe and sound, as he promised. He watched over them but was watched right back too, wasn't left a minute alone, Verde’s eyes weighing on him from afar even as he bought their hats.

He still isn't left alone even if he makes it back safe and sound to the mansion too, the others still keeping watch over him when they settle in the family room for a movie night.

Snacks and drinks pile up on the low table as well as a stack of everyone's handpicked DVDs. Fluffy blankets and cushions cover the couch and the floor at its foot, and Skull gets to claim the best spot on the couch, right in front of the TV. Luce and Reborn sit next to him, Viper next to Reborn while the others go through the DVDs.

"What should we watch?" Fon asks.

"What about—"

"Someone other than Reborn," Verde cuts him off, making Lal snort.

"Fuck you, he was asking the room."

"His mistake."

"Go fuck yourself. You're lucky I can't bother getting up right now for your worthless ass." Verde laughs, something light and soft, glancing at Reborn over his shoulder. Reborn raises his eyebrow. "What, did you just fall in love with me?" He smirks seductively, lowering his voice to a whisper. "I'll ruin you."

Verde throws a DVD at his face that he dodges easily, but they laugh anyway because Reborn needs daily loving bullying to keep him from becoming unbearably annoying.

Skull catches Luce's eye, grinning. Luce grins back from ear to ear, her face shining with joy, chasing away the shadows in her eyes, and it's a sight he's been missing dearly.

He doesn't know if she's already spoken with any of the others, if the others had sought her out for a talk, or if she plans to ever talk with them at all. She won't ever have the same relationship with the others anyway, he knows, but it doesn't mean they can't mend it to something else they can trust and cherish again.

Luce has been laughing all day and they have let her, have let themselves laugh alongside her too even if it was just a matter of circumstances, and Skull trusts they can do it. There's still a long way to go, but it's a first, important step full of love, and Skull's so happy and relieved they're willing to take it.

Skull doesn't know who ends up choosing the movie, but he can't seem to be able to pay attention to it anyway. He rests his head on Luce's shoulder, his legs tucked under him, Reborn's weight warming up his side. Reborn has his legs up on the couch too, as does Viper, their head resting on the armrest, and the both of them jolt his body whenever they kick each other for more space.

The coexistence at the foot of the couch is more peaceful, the low table pushed aside so they could lie down on their stomach.

Verde looks bored to death, having figured out the plot of the movie in the first ten minutes as he often does, but Fon's keeping him entertained. From the startled, muffled, mischievous laughter of it, it seems Fon's sharing some of that witty mind of his with him, and Skull would be jealous he can't hear it too if not for the reassurance Verde's having a good time too.

Lal does this thing where she's staring intently at the TV, but still couldn't look more like she couldn't care less about what's happening on the screen. She's munching on three different snacks at the same time, laughing at Fon's jokes and throwing a reliable "shut the fuck up" over her shoulder whenever the kicking contest gets too loud and rowdy.

They're in the dark, the movie loud enough to drown their noisy selves, but Skull has ears for them only. He suspects that's why the movie goes right over his head as he cares so much more to soak in the feelings of the moment, grave it in his memories, and he could stay there just like this forever.

Halfway through the second movie, he not only feels too good to care but also a bit tired, so of course, it's when Reborn shoves his phone into his face. Again.

The bright screen blinds him, and this time, he successfully shoves Reborn's hand away, squeezing his eyes shut. "Reborn! For fuck's sake."

Skull pulls away from Luce, carefully squinting his eyes open again, his arm defensively in front of his face. He flinches when one of them switches the light on, and by the time he gets used to it, he's the center of attention. For some reason.

Reborn waves his phone under his nose. "Just watch," he says, smirking, looking so very proud of himself in the most endearing way, Skull can't stay mad a second more.

"Watch it," Luce encourages him, a hand on his back.

Skull hesitates a moment more before he reaches out for Reborn's phone and looks down at it as everyone's looking at him.

"Midnight," he says a short moment later, turning the phone around so the others can see it for themselves too.

They smile brightly, some laughing, and Luce even claps her hands. None of them even glance at the phone, all their focus on him.

Luce intertwines her fingers together and rests her chin on top of it, her grin as bright as a thousand suns.

"What?" Skull laughs, could not not laugh to save his life, not when he can taste their happiness in the air and is faced with their so proudly accomplished looks. "What's going on, who's getting married?"

"No one," Viper says. "Come on."

Luce takes him by the hand to the low table, and they all sit in a circle around it. The snacks and drinks are promptly shoved away, Fon's flames briefly lighting the table to clean it.

"All right," Viper says again, sitting across from him, and the atmosphere suddenly turns solemn.

They reach out to lay their hands flat in front of him, seem to take a breath and share a last glance with the others. They look at him then before they light their hands with their flames.

When they remove their hands from the table, they leave behind a notebook with a pen next to it.

Skull's breath hitches silently.

He holds it in his throat, too afraid it'll ruin the moment if he lets it go, or will make him realize the moment isn't real to begin with. He gazes down at the notebook, doesn't dare touch it, his hands safely tucked away on his lap.

"What… is it?" he whispers as low as he can make it, terrified to ruin the moment.

"A gift," Luce breathes out next to him, as quietly as him.

"A gift," Skull repeats, a bit hollow, as if he doesn't know what the word means.

The others do nothing as he does nothing, just watching the notebook. It's a striped one the colors of the rainbow, the pen rainbow-themed too, and a smile pulls at Skull's lips.

It's a nice gift.

"We all contributed to it," Reborn says.

A startled laughter spills out from his mouth. "Yeah? What, it's made of silk or something?"

"You won't know if you don't touch it."

Reborn smirks his "got you" smirk, and Skull huffs, rolling his eyes, but it all feels frail and shaky. The others look at him with encouraging smiles and patient eyes, and Skull finally puts his hands on the table.

He grazes the notebook's cover with his fingertips, holds it in his hands in the lightest grip he can, looking at it from all angles while feeling its weight. He eventually opens it and runs his fingertips over the length of the blank page.

No part of the notebook is made of silk, but it's more precious to him than any silk could ever hope to be.

Luce comfortingly leans against his shoulder, her arm wrapped around his waist, and she gives it a light squeeze. "Go ahead. But only if you want to."

Skull laughs, or means to, but he's breathless and only exhales air. He takes the pen, cold and heavy in his hand, and it feels like it takes him forever to draw a line on top of the blank page.

It's a glitter ink pen, purple, and this time, he startles properly in laughter, but it sounds wet and choked up.

His sight blurs, Luce's face fuzzy as she cups his cheek to make him look at her. She strokes a gentle thumb over one of his eyes, clearing up his sight a little.

"Skull," she says softly, like the warmest blanket that'll ever be draped around his body. "Congratulations for a day well lived, and for having seen it through the end." She leans their foreheads together, her eyes shining, but her voice brims with joy and love. "The first of many, many more to come."

It sounds like a promise, and Skull bursts into tears.

Loud sobs tear out of his throat unbridled, deep from the core of his being, its most sensitive, bruised part, and he couldn't make them stop even if he wanted to.

Luce holds him in her arms, resting his head in the crook of her neck, and Skull makes himself small, tries to fit whole in her embrace. He cries his heart out on her shoulder while she says nothing, does nothing but holds him tight, tighter whenever Skull curls up closer to her, curling his fingers in her back.

"Sure hope these are happy tears," Lal mutters.

"I'm sure they are," Fon says, but doesn't sound so sure.

"I told you it'd backfire," Viper hisses, but sounds more panicked than angry.

"We just agreed it was happy tears, didn't we?" Reborn says, forcefully placating.

"Did we?" Verde asks.

They bicker, muttering not so discreetly, because of course they do, and Skull laughs through his tears, almost choking, and somehow it makes him cry harder.

It's mourning tears, for something he lost long ago and didn't realize he helped buried, doesn't remember when he buried it; and it’s grief for the loss he didn't allow himself to hurt over, didn't think he had the right to hurt over.

It's happy tears all the same, through the grief and the sadness for what he wishes he'd have heard years ago celebration for what he hears now; and it's letting go and letting himself be, letting himself live, a deaths afflicted life as his life may be.

Embracing his deaths, cherishing them is so very important to him, but his life isn't only deaths, doesn't have to be only deaths.

Death might not give weight and meaning to his life the way it does to everyone else's, but it doesn't mean he can't look for weight and meaning elsewhere.

Skull pulls away from Luce at last, and it might be hours later for all he knows, but he's too embarrassed to think about it. He keeps his head down, rubbing at his eyes and sniffling, and it takes him a couple of minutes more to dry his eyes.

"Here," Verde says, handing him a tissue.

"Thanks." It's so quiet, Skull feels almost shameful to blow his nose, feels like laughing.

He puts the notebook on his lap, looking down at the purple, glittering line in wonder, the first to many, many more to come. Skull purses his lips, his eyes welling up with tears again. He takes one last look before he closes the notebook and holds it close against his chest.

"I can't tell you how much this means to me."

"Please, don't," Viper says. "This is much too emotional already."

"Sorry I have emotions," Skull jokes, and though his voice's still shaky it's genuinely playful, and the others laugh briefly.

"What Viper meant," Fon starts, and Skull only then looks up, "is that you have nothing to apologize for. We only hope we didn't cross a line. We only wanted—"

"I know." Skull nods, smiling. "I know, it's okay. You don't have to say it. We don't have to do any more emotions for today."

Viper throws their hands up in the air. "Oh, fine. I'm sorry, all right?"

"All forgiven," Skull says teasingly, only spurring the others on in their playful mocking.

"So," Luce says, her arm wrapped around his waist, never having left his waist, resting her chin on his shoulder. She gazes up at him. "Happy tears?"

The others snap back to attention none too subtly, quieting down, clearly waiting for his answer. Skull doesn't mean to mark a suspenseful silence, but it's such an obvious question to him, and it feels so good to hear, he can't help it.

He can't help but let the words wash over him, sink into him, spreading the most soothing scorching warm in his chest.

He smiles, then grins, then he laughs, bright and giddy and so very, very happy.

"Yeah. Very, very happy." Relief flickers over everyone's faces, immediately covered by proud, confident grins as if they knew it all along, and Skull couldn't love them more if he tried. "The first of many, many more to come," he says, stroking his thumb over his notebook. He's so very, very lucky. "I'll hold you to that, you know?"

Startled smiles and laughs bloom over their faces and out of their mouths, then the fondest look they've ever given him.

"Of course," Reborn says, as confident sounding as he always is, as reassuring as it has come to always be. "Who do you think we are?"

"We wouldn't have it any other way," Fon assures him again.

It sounds like a promise, and Skull rubs his eyes before he turns into a crybaby again. "Thank you." He looks at the others each in turn, and they look right back at him, a knowing look in their eyes of what he's about to say, and they let him say it anyway. "I love you."

They grin, and Skull grins right back, then they're giggling at each other, and Skull hears loud and clear what he doesn't need them to say out loud until they're ready to say it.

Luce lets go of his waist to claim one of his hands to herself, and he gives in easily. She intertwines their fingers together and cradles their hands over her heart.

Her eyes are impossibly soft and strong, her smile so loving, his heart aches in the best of ways.

"We know."

It sounds like a promise, and Skull trusts it's one they will all make sure to never break.