Chapter Text
Once upon a time, long before the first from the outside came to climb, this place was lost.
Deserted, without a tad of hope. Only one seed was able to grow within this desolated place.
But buried deep, lied another one, that, once an unfortunate fella died on top of it, began to bloom. It rose into the sky, high and mighty and brought the rain, everlasting, bringing life. The first plant, not tolerating the water, died.
It was never seen again, as it should. If this one is about to grow again, planted at the most sacred heart, the tree will be gone.
The rain will end.
This place will die again.
Beware the dead things and hail the Arbor Vitalis so that the water of life remains,
always and forever.
A place, where the rain never ends. A floor, where eternity exists for everything wetted with the water of life.
A kind of paradise. That’s what they call this place.
Bam reminisces in silence. A thin wall made of a translucent material separates him from the world. It’s soundproof, gives him shelter from the rain. He cannot concentrate, as he sees but cannot hear the drops falling. Compared to the rest of the floor, their homes are silent. Everything exposed to the water screams. And sitting here, up above the sturdy trees, reminds him of it.
He tries to shut it out through closing his eyes again.
This floor, or rather every living being chained to it, wants to die.
It is sensible, even in this secured room. The Shinsu weights stronger onto his shoulders. Sometimes it’s hard to breath because the air smells heavy, desperate, and stale. It’s sickening to everyone, who’s stepping a foot onto these grounds.
The rain is the reason for regulars to subconsciously push their climb, but not because it’s rain. Not because it’s the ever-cloudy sky and the absence of a directly shining Shinsu sun.
Bam needs rest, the feel of this floor slowly crept into his bones, making his muscles ache and his eyes burn even when closed.
Sometimes his affinity towards Shinsu is a blessing but now it feels like a bane.
Behind him, the sound of an opening door gets him back to focus. Light, well-known footsteps approach him, and a soft sigh escapes the incomer as he lets himself down on the spot next to Bam.
“Hey, you.” Khun greets him and Bam can hear his smile, despite not looking.
He opens an eye, smiling back tiredly. “Hi Khun.”
“Found anything?” His lightbearer hands him a bottle of water and a banana. “I saved you one. It’s from three floors down but don’t tell Rak.”
“Thank you.” Bam takes both, and as he receives the banana, he lets his fingers slide over it. He feels the peel’s texture. It’s a fruit. A normal one, not mantled in the aftertaste of eternity rain. “I found myself this quiet spot.” Bam answers.
Khun always asks his question when he interrupts Bam’s meditation. It started after they got to this floor, and he came by every day since. Bam answers every time, though his responses differ.
“This room has quite a nice view.” Khun states as he nips at his coffee.
“It’s eerily silent.” Bam let’s himself enjoy the slight sweetness while eating. Contrary to their Rak leader, bananas are not his favourite fruit, but this one is just how he likes it best.
“Isn’t everything?” Khun takes the peels from Bam and stores them in the waste collecting system of his lighthouse. “But it’s probably better this way.”
“Maybe.” Bam looks down, as he thinks of constant drumming against the roofs and walls. The rain gathers in trickles, flowing down the window glass just to meet up others on its way to the bottom of those globelike rooms where they drop down to earth. They fall upon the leaves of smaller trees to keep them alive. Until eternity. Until this rain ends.
He can feel it. The desperation and inexpressible want, the need to die. The need for everything to renew, regenerate and to rebuilt. For this floor to be reborn. Bam bites his lower lip.
“Khun?”
“Hm?” His lightbearer stares out in the endless cloudy sky.
Bam is stopped in his thoughts by the blue of Khun’s hair – a shade he always liked very much. It contrasts with the dark grey of this sky, reminds him on more familiar ceilings. And of being somewhere where nature truly thrives.
“What is it?” Khun looks at him with questioning eyes another shade of blue and Bam halts in his movement.
Why did he raise is hand?
“I- sorry, I don’t know.” Bam clenches his other fist, the one Khun cannot see, and leans back again. The sharpness of his nails is a slow reminder. He takes a breath. Then two, knowing what he’s about to ask from the person who always kept him out of trouble. At least when he was in control and position to avoid such. “Can’t we -?”
With a sudden crash the door behind them slides open. Heavy steps echoing fast, causing their room to quake. “Blue Turtle! How dare you!” Rak jumps in, throwing himself onto Khun. “How can you keep me from the food of my soul?!”
“What?” Khun growls in protest and tries to free himself from their heavy friend.
“You should’ve come to me instantly! I love bananas you mean blue sneaky turtle!” Rak seats himself onto the lightbearer and crosses his tiny arms. His eyes glimmering red with a growling expression of discontent.
“Bananas aren’t even part of a wraithraiser’s usual diet. Get off of me right now, stupid gator!” Khun stops his unsuccessful attempts in struggling and winding himself out of his disadvantageous position. “Or else you can forget about your so-called food of soul.” Mirroring their leader, he too, crosses his arms on top of his chest.
Bam cannot help but chuckle which lets the others stop their bickering for a second.
But soon they continue in their arguing. Rak for Khun giving him his bananas and Khun for Rak getting off first.
They are so stubborn about these things; Bam thinks to himself while watching his best friends. He welcomes this warm feeling that makes him bear this floor. A little smile shows on his face before he decides to mediate between his two best friends.
*~*~*~*~*
Dinner time comes fast. Bam helps Hockney and Elaine preparing today’s meal, but they shush him out of the kitchen as soon as the vegetables are cut. He talks to Isu about current news – the type of information he knows Khun tries to hide from him - and has a little talk with Hatz about his training.
Sometimes it is lovely to take a few days off between a floor test and before ascending to the next one.
None of them knows how hard it is for him, dealing with this place’s type of Shinsu.
But Bam would not tell them. His friends are comparatively at ease right now. A rare chance to get a little rest. He won’t ruin them this. Not when he is already ruining their whole climb by selfishly staying by their side.
Their rest is not a mandatory one anyway.
Khun skips dinner. He often does while gathering information. Bam looks for him to ask if he wants anything. Yet his lightbearer is nowhere to be found.
“Maybe he’s at that supersize tree thingy? Wasn’t that some kind of special place here?” Endorsi replies after Bam asked her about his whereabouts. Her tone drenches with disinterest as she continues to paint her toenails.
It is interesting so see her upbeat when Bam askes her something or talks to her in general just to watch her lose all that energy when it concerns a certain blue-haired teammate.
Bam thanks her and returns to the now empty living room. He leans against the wall and lets himself sink down to the floor.
The outside is filled with the darkness of a star- and moonless night but the rain does not care about the time of day. Heavy drops visibly beating at their homes. It seems like the intensity grew.
The next bubbly flats built into the sky are visible in the distance. Some are lit, most lie in darkness and some use the shield to prevent the prying eyes from neighbours.
Bam feels incredibly lonely. And tired. The rain is eating at him without even touching his skin.
“Black turtle?” Rak comes in, looking down towards Bam. He seats himself, still chewing on a banana.
Silence hangs in the air but not the heavy type. They sit like this for a few minutes and none of them says a word when Rak shifts into his natural form and Bam leans against him.
“I heard the blue turtle and the tracksuit turtle talking about leaving soon.”
“Yeah, I know.” Bam closes his eyes.
“We will find yourself a better hunting ground, Black turtle!” Rak’s voice is grumbling low. Bam feels reminded of the rocks Rak tends to eat from time to time and of earth. Of something grounding.
“We sure will.” He feels himself slowly drifting away, leaning against the comforting warmth. The last thought Bam can remember is about Khun and about how he hopes that the rain will not harm him, wherever he went to.
*~*~*~*~*
When Bam wakes again, he feels a cold hand brushing against his forehead. Beneath him is the soft but firm hunch of a mattress and he is blanketed with a comforter, he most likely would have fought off during sleep.
Bam leans into the palm and gets cold once it leaves. Barely noticeable footsteps are leaving and Bam panics. “Khun?” His throat is dry from sleeping and his voice nearly inaudible but the steps halt.
“Bam?” Khun’s voice is soft as if not to wake him further. And it is too far away.
“Khun. Come back?” Bam rasps.
He hears a sigh and as Bam finally finds the strength to open an eye, Khun kneels beside the bed, wearing a tired smile. “Go to sleep again, Bam.”
“Can you stay?”
“I’ll wait until you’ve fallen asleep.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Bam moves a little to give Khun the space to lie down next to him.
His best friend’s lips form a thin line and he looks like he is about to object. But whatever Bam’s expression must have looked like, it worked and Khun, with another short outlet of breath, took off his shoes, loosened his cravat and carefully laid down next to him.
As soon, as Khun slips beneath the blanket, Bam’s hands find his hair. He moves a tad closer to get rid of the distance and runs his fingers through the silver blue strands.
Khun closes his eyes and he carefully tickles the back of Bam’s arms.
Bam enjoys the soft and comfortable tingling that comes from the light scratching of Khun’s nails and he indulges in the proximity of the moment. He feels his heartbeat slow down and the weight slightly lifting. He could fall right back to sleep like this. It feels like home.
“Are you still able to take it?” Khun draws little circles onto his shoulder before letting his fingertips dance towards Bam’s wrist again. His eyes are dark because of the dim blue light from his lighthouse. Still, Bam can see the worry and concern within them.
“I think so.” Bam traces the shell of Khun’s ear which causes the other to take a shallow breath. He likes to watch Khun’s brows slightly twitching and his eyelids to flutter at the sensation.
“It’s only three days. They refuse to start the teleportation device any sooner.”
“It’s okay.” Bam smiles softly. “I can take it.” Bam feels the urge to draw Khun even closer. To hug him without the intention of letting go anytime soon. “Earlier, I actually wanted to ask you something, Khun.” But he does not give in.
He remembers Khun’s words about this not being something you would do with a friend when they did it for the first time. Laying close together, caressing and slowly stroking each other’s arms and backs to seek comfort in stressful and exhausting times.
Bam had a hunch that this might be the case, but he did and does not care about such things. He had asked Khun if he liked it and Khun, the tips of his ears turning unusually but somehow adorningly red, answered it was effectively soothing but a very intimate thing to do. And that it should not be done with just anyone.
Then Bam had told him, that he did not give a thought about a weird friendship code no one ever cared to explain to him and that he saw no reason to stop doing something bringing a little relief in their rough days. Not if they both found a liking to it, of course. They had been growing much closer already since Khun had woken up and rejoined them after his coma. Bam failed to see the differences between hugging after a fight or within nights of nightmares and whatever Khun or anyone else would call what they currently did.
And like this, they continued looking for comfort and security within the other.
“What is it?” Khun’s low voice reaches Bam’s ears.
He remembers another question he never got to ask.
Sometimes, being together like this, his friend would wear an unusual expression. With dark lidded eyes and deep longing, he would never wear in other situations. Like he wanted something and Bam always wants to ask what, so he might help him get it.
But before he could articulate the words, Khun would rest their foreheads together, sigh and smile. And those smiles! They make every thought and word in Bam’s head disappear, replacing them with an incredibly warm and cosy feeling he cannot name, but misses whenever Khun is not around.
“Bam?”
Another tug at his focus. Oh yes. There was something else, he wanted to solve. “Khun, isn’t there anything we can do about it?”
Khun looks a little confused for a second. “I don’t think so. They were very clear about the-“ He starts to reply softly.
“No. I’m not talking about our departure. Sorry. I mean the rain.” Bam keeps his voice calm to not disturb the moment too much. But he himself heard his resolution.
“What?” Khun lets his hand rest on Bam’s arm. It’s warm, distracting Bam’s attention for a second.
“Isn’t there any way to stop it?” Bam’s fingers search for the other one. “Since we have come here, I can feel it, Khun. The rain keeps everything alive. All those trees and grasses and other plants down there. I know that’s got nothing to do with us. But they are older than the family heads. They want to die and I can feel it in every breath I take. This eternal rain has to end for this floor to live again. It’s so sickening, Khun. I can endure it. I will and I tell you every day but I’m not sure, if I can leave like this. I cannot wait to escape this feeling but I'm also afraid that it will hunt me when I don't at least try to do something.”
Khun watches him and Bam recognizes the shift in his expression.
“Wait a moment, Bam. I’m not ready to think about this yet.”
He wants to stop Khun when he slowly moves away and leans against the headboard. But Bam knows Khun prefers his distance when he’s thinking and therefore Bam follows his actions and rests against the wall.
Khun rubs a little on his temples and then the bridge of his nose while taking deep breaths. “Did I just understand that right? You want to stop – the rain?”
“Yes. I mean – if possible.”
Khun lets out an audible breath. “Bam. Listen to me. You cannot stop the weather, you know?”
“I could talk to the administrator.”
“It’s unlikely they can or will do anything about this, Bam. They refuse to talk to Regulars anyway. Even the Shinsu contract was formed without speaking to them. And the eternity rain is not like the drops of Shinsu falling down onto other floors. It’s not artificial.” Khun moves a little closer again. “This floor bears the so-called Water of Life. It’s basically its own entity and some sources say it’s woven to the administrator’s soul and therefore can be used to form the contract. There is no indication or information that it’s stoppable.”
Despite the information he shares, Khun’s voice has a pleasant tone, Bam could listen all night to until he’d fall asleep again. “If you will end it eventually, this floor will die, yes. But it might never be a place to enable life again. At least not according to the legends and stories they tell about this floor.” Khun stares at the opposite wall. “But even if we don’t consider all of this, I don’t think it’s possible to find a solution until they open the gates.”
Bam glances on his own hands, deep in thought. The pressure all encompassing.
He raises his chin up again, laying his hand onto Khun’s. “I still, would like to try.” He interlaces their fingers. “Please, Khun. If we cannot find a way, we can still move on.”
Khun still avoids looking at him. Bam refuses to look away.
Then Khun finally holds his gaze and sighs. “Fine.” His expression isn’t essentially happy. More an exhausted one. He moves away from the headboard and lets himself fall flat into the sheets, covering his eyes with the back of his hand. “Fine. Let’s try.”
As Bam gently squeezes his hand as a thank you, a faint smile steals it's way on his lips. He carefully joins him and listens to Khun voicing his thoughts, listing the things they had to take care of now. And even tough he really tries to stay awake and to contribute to the thought process, sleep embraces him, carrying him away from the weight of the day.