Archive of Our Own

Tsukasa has never felt his morality waver till now. It swings, like a pendulum, back and forth, back and forth. His focus also swings, between feeling the heat near his face to putting an ear to the rioting crowds.

Rumors say that witches go up in green smoke. Tsukasa bitterly thinks it's time to prove it.

—

Tsukasa tumbles down the forest floor, after he tripped on a hidden root, embedded like a castle trap. Dirt flies and leaves get crushed as he rolls until he finally comes to a stop. He takes a second to assess his situation- his clothes are ragged, scratches and tears and mud smudged on the white and red cloth; his legs burn, aching with small bursts of pain; he doesn't recognize where he is after he tumbled off his horse.

It's shameful. He said he needed no escort, and the one time his parents finally trusted him to go alone, thinking he was old enough to hold his own, he went and got himself in such a predicament.

No matter, he thinks, as he dusts off his pants, he'll find his way out soon. However, the canopy is thick and slathered heavily with leaves, blocking out all and any traces of the sky or sun, and the hill he supposedly tumbled down is gone- leaving him in the middle of a flat clearing.

Essentially, he's stranded with no clues on how to get back.

Unsure of where to go, he wanders. The forest is dense and dark, yet plentiful with life abound. Hares hop from stump to stump, the sounds of rushing water are never far away, and birds chirp from high above in the branches.

He lugs himself in the direction he thinks he came from, tired and weary but determined to come back- only to suddenly fall. fast.

His head is pounding. Seems he fell into a trap, as his hands press at layers of dead leaves. He looks up to see a brown, thin, tarp dangling from masts crossing over a hole like a spiderweb, ready to ensnare its prey.

Maybe today just isn't his best day. However, the fact there's a trap here must mean that there's a person in these woods. Tsukasa's heart pounds with the hope that he might be able to get some help.

His prayers are answered when a blonde, bushy, head sticks out from the edge of the pit. They hesitate for a second before smiling, "Oho? Looks like Sora accidentally caught a human instead of an animal!" They laugh a little, light and jovial before pulling out what seemed to be a broom.

Tsukasa is dumbfounded, lost at the kid's manic energy, until they suddenly descend on the broom, floating and twirling in the air- which, by all normal human means, should not be possible. But it is. And it's staring him straight in the face.

He thinks back to a wayward rumor he's heard of while passing in town- a witch in the woods. Magic is an extremely rare talent, to the point where many believe that it doesn't exist- Tsukasa himself subscribed to the mentality of "when I see it, I'll believe it", well, he's seeing it right now, so he's inclined to believe it.

Soon enough, the kid is standing right before him. They're maybe just a smidge shorter, but Tsukasa can tell they're around the same age as him.

Tsukasa hesitates to say anything, to react, and they pounce upon that pocket of silence- "Hihi!! Sora's never caught someone else before? What's your name? We should be friends!" They talk a mile a minute, and Tsukasa waits till they slow to a stop.

"My name is Tsukasa, of the Suou family. I'm sure you've heard of it." He speaks with as much elegance and grace he can muster, although there isn't much point when his audience is not a royal court, but just a kid whose clothes are about as tattered as his.

Sora, who Tsukasa assumes is his name, hums for a second before loudly responding, "Nope! Sora's never heard of a "Sue-oh" before! Wait…" Sora's eyes draw up towards Tsukasa's hair, and he seems to think for a second or two, "Oh! You're related to those rich guys- the ones who have golden armor and servants, right? They sometimes pass through the road, yeah!"

The Suou family is indeed the only family with bright red hair, Tsukasa realizes, however, he must be quite out of the loop to not even recognize the Suous.

"Then, you must at least know the Tenshouins, right?" Tsukasa asks, tentatively.

Sora has to know who the Tenshouin family is- they're the ruling family, after all, however, with an enthusiastic shake of the head, Tsukasa pieces together how isolated Sora is.

Tsukasa hesitates, unsure of how to phrase his question, before asking, "Sora… how many friends do you have?"

Sora counts on his fingers, one, two, and then stops. His face seems to turn sheepish for a second, almost saddened, before returning to its bright sunshine, "Two! Shishou, and Senpai!"

Smiling, Tsukasa laughs, "Well, that's one more than I have!" And for once, the admittance of his loneliness doesn't leave him feeling hollow inside, it doesn't leave him feeling like he's on his knees, craving for something- it makes him feel warm, because for once, there's someone beside him.

—

Sora leads him inside some small hut, the roof is made of brown tiles, the wooden walls matte, and the shape is irregular, like a tree stump or the cap of a mushroom. It's wildly different from Tsukasa's usual - white, waxed walls, golden embellishments, and perfect, proportional rooms and buildings. The difference is as striking as a mallard duck versus a white swan, but Tsukasa doesn't mind one bit.

The door is just tall enough for Sora, so it's too short for Tsukasa, and he bangs his head on the top. Tsukasa grabs his forehead, feeling the dull pain pounding in his skull, and Sora turns around, concerned.

"You okay, Tsuka-chan?" Sora asks.

"Yes…wait, Tsuka-chan?" Dumbfounded by Sora's words, Tsukasa echoes.

His heart seems to grow three sizes more: once from just meeting Sora, and once more from the nickname. It swells, and Tsukasa can feel heat rush to his face.

Sora smiles, giddy and energetic, bright like a shining star, "Mhm! If Shishou is Shishou, Senpai's Senpai, then Tsukasa is Tsuka!" He says it like it's so natural to give someone you just met an endearing nickname, and Tsukasa feels himself pulled into Sora's vortex, Sora's energy.

It's easy to go along with Sora's whims, Tsukasa thinks, or maybe he's already hopelessly fond of the witch.

The inside of the hut is cramped, to say the least. The ceiling slopes and dips in places, and things seem to be placed about randomly, yet with the way Sora glides through all of it, easily finding the things he needs, there must be some kind of pattern that only Sora understands.

The more he looks, the more he comes to understand that this is Sora's home: The hastily scribbled labels on potions with long-winded, fun titles that don't even give a sliver of information on what they do; The quilted bed woven of rough cotton, patchy and torn in some places, with mountains of mismatched pillows; The pile of board games, almost all of them intended for two players, yet they look used with scuffs and scratches on the wooden boards.

The small framed picture of a red-haired man, dressed like the fortune tellers in town, a taller, blue-haired person who looks strangely familiar, and Sora in the center, beaming. They're inside a different house, and the picture almost comes alive in their expressions - the way the red-haired one is seething at the other, yet there's a fondness captured in the blue-haired man's worried smile, it's like they're a family, with how close they are in the photo.

Sora speaks up, noticing Tsukasa admiring the memento, "Oh! That's Shishou and Senpai!" He points to their faces as he says their names, "We're separate right now, but they always come to visit! In fact, Shishou came to visit about a week ago!"

That's when Tsukasa realizes how old the photo is. The edges are yellowed, and the frame is dusty, like the ancient vintages sold at the auctions.

Tsukasa responds, "I see. Hopefully, I can meet them."

Sora smiles, "Sora hopes you do!"

Eventually, after wading through piles of miscellaneous things and winding paths, they make it to what seems to be a lab of some sort: junk is cleared out, making space for a counter full of experiments. Vibrant, colorful liquids in flasks, powders and herbs spread about, and a cauldron stands in the center.

"Honestly, Sora doesn't know how to treat a guest, so he thought to just show you something cool instead!" He looks a little embarrassed, but Tsukasa tells him that it's fine, and he's excited to see Sora's work.

Sora brings him first to the center cauldron, and hands Tsukasa a handful of herbs - elderflower, thistle, and others he can't recognize - and tells him to throw it in the pot.

"Watch-" Sora says, right after Tsukasa tosses it in. He stirs slowly, using a large metal ladle, and Tsukasa can barely contain his amazement when the liquid goes from orange to blue, like dawn breaking.

Tsukasa exclaims, "Marvelous!", eyes wide from the transformation.

Sora smiles, large like a jumpy puppy, "Here, here!" He grabs Tsukasa's wrist, dragging him to a counter, which holds a steel plate with a few grains of green powder.

With a flick of a wand, there's suddenly a flame waving on the very point of it, and Sora carefully lights the powder ablaze- it smokes green, lime green, floating up in thin wisps, before something crackles and Tsukasa hears sparks flying and it explodes.

There was barely a smidge of powder, yet the following boom is large enough to cover the entire plate in a green explosion.

Tsukasa's mouth hangs open, completely both dazed and impressed. He's speechless, as Sora giggles in delight.

Using a hand to waft away the burnt smell, Tsukasa notices the scorch marks on the wood, black and charred. Sora must've been working on this for a while, but for what purpose?

Obviously, not for bad intentions. Tsukasa thinks he has a pretty good judge of character, and Sora looks like he wouldn't hurt anyone. Even if an explosive like this could do massive damage, he doesn't think Sora would use it for anything malicious. Maybe that's an incorrect hunch from his naivety, but he wants to trust his newest friend.

As he watches Sora clean up with a large grin on his face, skipping and humming as he stacks the dish upon a tower of other dirty tools, he realizes that Sora does it for fun. He finds these experiments fun, Tsukasa means, who wouldn't?

The tower of used equipment stacks a mile high, nearly dozens of tubes, dishes, tools, and other such things, all stained with strange colors or smudged with grimy substances. Tsukasa wonders how many experiments has Sora done, considering the shelves full of potions and cabinets full of jars and boxes.

It's a little sad, Tsukasa thinks solemnly, knowing Sora does all of this alone.

He can see Sora's smile when he finally has a lab partner, someone to show all his cool creations to, he can see how Sora seems to shine when he shows Tsukasa something magical.

When Tsukasa leaves with a map and some bread, he marks down the location of Sora's hut and makes promises to come back.

—

"You're going there again?" Tori asks, spitting the words out as if they were insults.

Tsukasa stops at the doorway, "Yes, is there a problem?"

He visits Sora nearly every day, now. After all, before this he was a sitting duck, there's not much to do when you're the son of a lord.

Everyone knows he leaves late in the morning, after tutoring, and comes back after the sun kisses the horizon, his clothes and face occasionally more worn and torn than when he had left. There are many different rumors as to where he goes: Some say he's training to become a knight, some say he's going down to the markets and getting in street brawls, and some even say he's running away to some secret love affair.

However, he hadn't told a single person of the location of his getaways, except Tori. Which he now regrets immensely.

The first thing Tori did was laugh, saying that he didn't know Tsukasa could tell jokes. Only when Tori realized he was serious, did he start bugging him.

Tori says, "Well, no. I could care less- but you shouldn't be so chummy with those types." He scoffs, haughty as ever, "They'll pull their pointy little hats over your eyes before you know it."

Tsukasa learns quickly that the Himemiyas are scared of magic. It doesn't show in Tori's face, but the way his voice cracks slightly and his hands wobble makes it clear.

"What do you mean?" Tsukasa says, genuinely confused. Sora wouldn't do such a thing, right?

Tori looks away, "Y'know, you've heard about the five eccentrics, right?"

"Well, I've heard bits and pieces, but nothing more than just their name."

Tori smugly says, "Well, I'll tell you all about them. Someone needs to teach you, after all, so feel honored."

Tsukasa was about to interject, saying he should get going, but Tori continues quickly, "They're, like, a super evil band of witches and wizards that used to terrorize the country. Rumors say some of them weren't even human, but humanoid monsters." He sticks a finger out, before proudly smiling, "But Eichi defeated them all, which is why he's king! I mean, of course he had some help, but he led the crusade against them."

He leans against the marble railing, laying his elbows and face across it, "They say the world was bathed in darkness while they were around- but that's probably just an exaggeration." It's hard to ignore the shiver that crawls up Tori's back.

Tsukasa says, "And this is related to Sora how…?"

Tori pouts, "Well, it's obvious! Your friend is a witch: So, what if he's in cahoots with them? You don't want to get tangled up in something dangerous, do you? I mean, not that I care if you get hurt."

It's a little funny, this back and forth of who could seem to care less between them, yet they both seem to check on each other in the (not so) subtlest of ways.

Tsukasa waves Tori's concerns away, "I can fend for myself- and I appreciate you not talking about my friend like that."

Tori looks at him with narrowed eyes, before walking away, "Don't say I didn't warn you."

That day, Tsukasa plays a board game with Sora, chess. Tsukasa wins every game, except the last.

—

Tsukasa waits at the very edge of the city, where the town meets the forest. He kicks a rock around, dust flying as he straightens his clothes.

Eventually, a blur of yellow and green and blue rushes in, and Sora's standing right in front of him, bouncing with energy. He's wearing a muted green robe with an emerald pendant and muddy brown leather boots.

"Hihi, Tsuka-chan!" He buzzes around like electricity, quick and light on his feet, excited. Tsukasa sighs, before speaking, "Hello, Sora. Are you ready?"

"Ready as Sora could ever be! He's super excited! In fact, so excited he could hug Tsuka-chan right now! Can he, can he?" Sora talks quickly, but doesn’t run out of breath.

Tsukasa nods, and Sora jumps towards him, hugging him tightly. They seem to cuddle a second too long for what's considered friendly, and awkwardly break away, a light smattering of pink on Sora's cheeks matching how Tsukasa feels as if he's in the middle of a hot summer day, cheeks flushed from the heat.

From there, they wordlessly enter the city, and Tsukasa leads them to the market.

The market is bustling with people from all walks of life, as usual. However, instead of watching the market go by, as usual, full of life and living as people trade and bargain and steal, he watches Sora- he notices how his eyes go wide, filled with starshine and wonder.

He notices how his friend's eyes are the same color as the sky. The impossibly big, blue, sky that holds as many secrets as it does dreams.

His eyes are like sapphires, Tsukasa realizes. Sparkling, shiny, sapphires.

However, before Tsukasa can think any more about Sora's eyes, he's pulled along to a stall. The display holds numerous different fruits, and Sora seems to have trouble picking what to buy.

Tsukasa takes the initiative, buying two apples for both of them, and they each take a bite. Savoring the crisp, juicy apple, they casually walk to the next stall, making light talk.

The next shop has a red, muted covering, and is selling small plush toys. They seem to be stuffed with goose feathers and have adorably cute designs on them. Sora seems to hover, before noticing the price, to which he seems dejected.

Tsukasa looks, before something catches his eye. A shooting star, yellow, with a bright neon green trail- it reminds him dearly of Sora.

It is like him, after all, a shooting star in Tsukasa's galaxy. What seemed to be a fleeting passing of fate, turned a wish real.

He buys it, and gifts it to Sora while they're moving on, "Here, I noticed you were looking at them."

"Tsuka-chan… this is… oh, thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Sora thanks you from the bottom of his heart!" Sora spins in place, holding the shooting star plush up, delighted.

Tsukasa feels something well in his heart, too. Something heavy, yet comfortable. It constricts his floating feelings and he feels the tug of something never felt before. Love, he hears in the voice of his mother.

When he was a kid, he would often ask his mother to tell stories of how his parents met and fell in love. He was enraptured by the idea of meeting someone just for him, being able to click with someone like matching puzzle pieces, or like how the ocean meets the earth.

So this is what it feels like, Tsukasa thinks, when you know that you could spend your entire life with someone.

It's warm. Impossibly warm, without being scorching, burning hot. Just- warm, like sun-kissed gardens full of flowers, like freshly baked pastries and cakes, like herbal tea enjoyed in a pavilion, like the heat of a hearth during winter, and so much more.

Sora smiles, and Tsukasa can feel that warmth thaw his heart again.

They make it to the next shop, to which Sora's back to admiring the display again. However, Tsukasa opens his ears to something- a conversation right behind him. He can't help but eavesdrop when it concerns Eichi.

It's hard to pick out the words from the hustle and bustle, but he picks up "the five eccentrics" and "jester" out of some other stray words.

He knows of Eichi's personal jester, Wataru, although he's never seen him in person. Some say his tricks are like magic, captivating, and impossible to recreate.

Maybe that's something to look into, Tsukasa thinks, he remembers Tori's words and decides to check the archives that night.

—

Tsukasa holds a lamp, the oil sputtering as it holds a small flame that flickers. The yellow glow barely illuminates the hallway, just enough to see.

He carefully, but quickly, sneaks into the archive rooms. Normally, he would be allowed in during the day, but he doesn't want the servants to know about this. They have no reason to think he's concerned with rumors and wizardry.

Despite being a noble, he could barely get any privacy while at home, so unfortunately he has to make do with snooping around.

He searches through many things, mostly junk, until he goes into the very back of the archives. Spider webs and must cover the area, his footprints leaving marks in the heavy layer of dirt on the ground. Clearly, nobody has touched this corner for a while.

Pulling out a dusty file, he flips through it, it's all just words and papers and things he doesn't recognize nor need, until a photo slips out. It falls to the ground loftily, and Tsukasa picks it up.

It's a small photo with five people, all posing for the camera. Underneath it, it's labeled "the five eccentrics", scribbled hastily in black ink.

Their names are written underneath, Wataru being one of them, confirming the rumor. What Eichi had in mind, employing one of his enemies, is unknown to Tsukasa.

What's more concerning though, is that Shishou, as Sora called him, was in the photo.

He thinks back to Tori's words, about Sora having connections to the villains of the past.
A pit of dread settles in his stomach, he doesn't want to think about what it might mean, but the evidence is right there.

However, he decides not to dwell on it, and believes in Sora - nothing bad will come from this, he hopes.

After all, it's been years since the five eccentrics disappeared without a trace, surely, they wouldn't come back, right?

—

They're sitting in a clearing in the forest, where the sunlight strikes down. Soft grass and flowers fill the field, swaying slowly with the breeze. A fine cloth is laid down, ornate and detailed with yellow and red patterns, as the two lay down. Tsukasa is sitting upright, posture perfect as he unpacks a large picnic box, whilst Sora hums and kicks his legs up, laying on his stomach and bringing out a set of cards.

They decide to play "BS", a simple card game. Although, since you're supposed to yell out profanities, the nobility found it too vulgar to play, so it would be Tsukasa's first try.

Tsukasa takes a bite of his sandwich as he plays down a three to follow Sora's two. It's roasted tomatoes and cheese.

Sora plays a four, giggling, "This place is really pretty, right?"

While playing his card down, Tsukasa responds, "Agreed- I didn't know there was somewhere like this in the forest, I thought it was all dark and shadowed."

It really is pretty, Tsukasa notes. The light reflects on the morning dew drops, making the flowers glisten, and butterflies flit around, numerous different colors dancing like synchronized performers.

"Well, it looks like that from the surface, right? It seems all scary and creepy, but you have to look deeper! Deeper, until you can see its true colors!" Sora says, putting down two cards.

Tsukasa responds, "Right. Don't judge on appearances."

After putting his card down, Tsukasa realizes that he doesn't have any cards for the next turn: no nines. He's going to have to lie.

Now, of course, he knows how to lie. Everyone does. But he's not very good, which was why he was hesitant to play.

However, maybe he can pull one over Sora, he thinks, letting his competitive spirit flare up.

He swiftly plays down an extra queen, controlling his features to the best he can to seem as natural as possible, and he thinks he pulled it off for a second until Sora shouts, "BS!"

Tsukasa was confused, "What! How?" He was sure his expression, his movements, were perfect.

Sora laughs, "Your color was different than when you were putting the other cards down!"

"Color..?"

"Oh, right, Sora forgot to tell you!" Sora puts his cards down, "All witches have a unique ability along with their magic- Shishou's is future seeing, Grand Shishou's is bird communication, and Sora's is seeing emotions as colors!"

Sora continues, putting a finger up, "Your color changed when you were about to put that card down, so Sora could tell you were lying- sorry, Sora kind of rigged the game. Hehe."

Tsukasa was dumbfounded, knowing he was outplayed, ensnared by Sora's trap. Yet, he couldn't be mad at all.

(Not when Sora looks so cutely smug over his trick.)

Tsukasa says, "It's alright, but let's play something else, then. How about speed?"

Sora hands his cards over, "Okay! You better teach Sora, though."

Tsukasa glides Sora through all the rules and then plays a couple of games. At the start, Tsukasa smoothly wins, but once Sora gets the hang of it, they're evenly matched- each game is more intense and exciting than the last, as they quickly race to get rid of their cards.

Soon enough, they've both exhausted their lunch and their hands, and decide to take a break.

They sit at the very edge of the mat, bunched up next to each other. Sora has his arms crossed over his knees, bringing them to his chest; His face is pressed into his arms, letting his bushy hair fall over his eyes. Tsukasa is sitting formally as usual but leans a little towards Sora.

Sora seems to hesitate for a second, before speaking, "Shishou doesn't visit as often these days."

Tsukasa waits for Sora to elaborate, "He says he's busy. There's stuff with grand Shishou and his friends, apparently. They're planning a grand- ah, Sora doesn't remember."

He sinks even further into his knees, "Sora misses Shishou."

Tsukasa isn't sure what to do. He doesn't know what to say, he doesn't know anything. Tori's never been vulnerable in front of him, and, god, has he ever been vulnerable in front of anyone except his family.

However, he thinks back to when he was young. He scraped his knee while running down the stairs, and started bawling on the floor, and remembers what one of his servants did- she scooped him up in a big hug, and squeezed him tight as if she was wringing out the tears.

So that's what Tsukasa does. He hugs Sora tight, wrapping both arms around him as much as he can, and lets Sora push his face into the crane of his neck as he leans against Tsukasa.

They stay there for a while. If Tsukasa feels a slight smidge of water on his shoulder, he doesn't mention it.

A voice seems to reverberate within him - his voice - until it's too much to stay pounding within him and he says it out loud, "I'll be here, till the end of us." It's soft and barely a whisper, yet it's steady, like a flickering flame in the dead of night.

Sora shifts, and after a sniffle or two, he whispers back, "Thank you."

—

Eichi passes the tea towards Tsukasa, who takes a sip. It's floral, light, and delicate on the tongue.

Pouring his own cup, Eichi speaks, "You've heard of the rumors, right?"

Tsukasa asks, "What rumors? I don't recall anything related to you passing around."

Eichi hums a quiet tune, "Oh, it isn't about me. I'm sure Tori has mentioned the five eccentrics to you before, right?"

"Yes. The villains you defeated to claim your throne, I'm familiar."

"Oh, villains? Is that what everyone calls them now?" Eichi adds a whimsical tone, stirring his tea with a sugar cube.

Eichi looks off to the garden beside them, the roses are a splendid red, the color of freshly spilled blood, "I've always thought of them as martyrs, myself."

"Martyrs? What do you mean?" Tsukasa asked, genuinely confused.

Eichi smiled, looking back towards Tsukasa, "Well, everyone's closer together after defeating a common enemy, right? And every hero's glory is stronger after taking down the boss."

Tsukasa grips his hands into fists, his stare solid as rock, "What are you implying, Eichi?"

Eichi laughs, light and melodic, "Nothing much. Just that I had to make a few… sacrifices for the greater good."

Tsukasa stays silent while Eichi sips from his cup, the tea finally cool enough to drink, "Think nothing of it. Although, I may need to prepare a new lamb, soon."

—

It's night when Tsukasa hears knocking at the window. He sits up from bed, unable to sleep due to Eichi's words, and instead meanders over. Rubbing at his eyes, he's both surprised and not surprised to see it's Sora, whom he lets in quickly.

Sora floats in, daintily. He seems excited, but there's an overlaying feeling of dread he can't seem to shake off.

The night is slightly cold, biting at his ankles and wrists where his nightwear doesn't cover. In contrast, Sora has another robe on- this one's a deep blue, at least Tsukada thinks so. It's hard to tell with the filter of the dark atmosphere.

They both come to sit on the bed: Tsukasa sits on the very edge, while Sora decides to lay down in the very center, facing up. He sprawls his arms out like a spider, and Tsukasa shakes with the realization that Sora's never had a bed this big, probably.

Tsukasa decides to poach the question on their minds first, "What's wrong, Sora?"

He notices how Sora seems to shake and tense up, but despite his apprehension, he breaks through it, "Shishou had a bad vision."

The night grows colder. Tsukasa grabs at his elbows, pulling himself closer. The wind blows and rips outside, gusts like whip cracks hitting the walls of the mansion.

Tsukasa hesitates before saying, "Could you elaborate, please?"

However, he thinks he already has an inkling as to what Shishou's vision is. Considering Eichi's words, and Sora's status- but Eichi shouldn't know about Sora, unless…

A pang of guilt reverberates in his gut. It hits hard, like a hammer to a wall made of sticks and mud.

"Something bad will happen to Sora in a few days," Sora states, with no emotion or energy. He can tell Sora's trying to keep it together, hiding some things, shoving away some things.

However, it's futile, tears start to spring out from the corners of Sora's eyes, glistening in the moonlight. His tears begin as specks, little droplets of water, until they're full on waterfalls, pouring down his cheeks. They pool into Tsukasa's bedsheets, as Tsukasa moves to grab Sora's hand.

Sora's hand is freezing, but he can still feel a living beat within it- like the small heat of a campfire in a snowing forest, his hand is a reminder that Sora's still fighting, and willing to give them what they don't want.

Tsukasa's truly lost for words, so actions will have to make do. He squeezes their hands tighter, laying on the bed next to Sora.

And they stay there, for who knows how long, till twilight starts to peak, brilliant blue and orange hues radiating among the sky before dawn breaks, golden yellow breaching the horizon.

As time passes, Sora's hand starts to warm and his tears start to dry until they become dewy morning dust, and his frown is no longer there, just peaceful slumber.

And finally, Tsukasa was able to fall asleep to the sounds of the ravens cawing at night, the breeze flowing outside, and Sora's calm breaths.

—

Eichi approaches Tsukasa at the doorstep, polite and proud, like a regal king, "May we take a walk, Tsukasa? I have something to discuss."

Tsukasa nods, not completely sure of Eichi's intentions, but he can tell he's scheming something.

They walk into the courtyards of the Suou manor - bushy green trees trimmed to perfection, flowering purple orchids and red tulips dotting the cobblestone pathway. Ornate iron framework surrounds the gardens, more decorative than protective, and birds hop on the steps, pecking at the ground.

Eichi looks around for a second, before locking eyes with Tsukasa's, "I have an important request for you," he states, calmly.

"What is it?" Tsukasa fidgets with his fingers. It's not the most comfortable to be under Eichi's gaze.

"I need you to take my place. Tomorrow, we will send a message out to the five eccentrics, however, if it goes wrong, my life could be at serious risk." He says casually, as if he were talking about the weather, and not his possible fatality.

"Hm, what kind of message?" Tsukasa asks, a chill creeping up his spine.

Despite the sunshine beaming on the two of them, Tsukasa can't feel anything but petrified - something about Eichi gives him the shivers, unsettles him, ruffles all of Tsukasa's feathers.

Eichi smiles, "I need you to lead a burning at the stake. I'm sure you already know who it is." He continues speaking lightly, melodically, as if none of it truly concerns him. He's an angel above all the sins of the world, while everyone else is signed to suffer underneath - at least, that's what Eichi's tone implies.

However, Tsukasa just feels white-hot fury. He doesn't know what to start with- how Eichi asked him to essentially, kill his best friend, maybe. Or how Eichi seems to think Sora's life is just a mere bargaining chip, a simple coin played to stop the five eccentrics from coming closer to overthrowing him and making a comeback.

He could yell, scream, charge at Eichi with all the things that were wrong with what he’s done, that he could be mad about- but he doesn't.

He can't. He can't go against the king, can he?

After all, if he says anything, he'll be turned into a flag as well, a red flag- a symbol of betrayal gone wrong. He'll be made an example of, surely.

His family will be ruined.

He thinks of his father, kind and hearty, who taught him how to shoot a bow and ride a horse. He thinks of his mother, quiet and kind, who read him stories and books and listened to his violin concerts for an audience of one.

He's unsure of whether to accept, but Eichi forces his hand anyway.

—

It rained that night. The dripping water soaks into Tsukasa's cloak, and mud gets on the very hem of it, staining the dark purple a deep brown.

His lantern is completely snuffed out, not a single trace of light, so he relies on muscle memory to find his way to Sora's. He trips here or there, stumbling on stray rocks or slipping in puddles, but soon enough, he sees light pouring out of the windows and the familiar shape of Sora’s house.

Running, he's panting as he makes it to the hut, knocking frantically on the wooden door. He hastily pounds one, two, three, and then finally, Sora opens the door.

"Tsuka-chan..? What are you doing here?" Sora asks, holding open the door for Tsukasa, despite the heavy rain coming inside the house.

Tsukasa instead grabs Sora's shoulders, knowing how wet his palms are, and Sora seems to wince at his icy touch, "You need to leave, now."

Sora then seems to realize what he's talking about and his expression turns somber. His eyes glaze over, and his eyelids droop, "Sora can't. He can't leave."

Tsukasa interjects, "But-", however, Sora raises a hand up and signals for Tsukasa to follow him.

Eventually, they make it to the corner of the hut, it's dark and shadowy since the light from the candles doesn't quite reach it, but just enough to be able to read.

Sora wordlessly pulls out a small letter, addressed to him by Eichi, and takes a deep breath.

Handing Tsukasa the letter, he speaks, looking off into the distance, "They're holding Grand Shishou hostage, apparently. If Sora leaves, then Grand Shishou will-" He breaks off, tears starting to form in the very corner of his eyes.

It's that moment when Tsukasa realizes that Eichi was just offering a choice as a formality. There was no option for refusal, there was no escape.

Both of them were being played as fools, like marionette dolls, following Eichi’s whims to entertain the masses. They were strung on their strings before they knew it.

Tsukasa reaches out to hug Sora. It’s a desperate, somber hug, Tsukasa gripping at the fabric on Sora’s back, holding it tightly as if it were a lifeline, the cold chills soaking into his skin, while Sora seems to only cry harder into Tsukasa’s chest, small whimpers and cries muffled by thick cloth.

They stay there for some time, wrapped up in each other, but eventually, they have to pull away - even though the world is hard to face right now, they have to face it.

Calmed down, Tsukasa walks away with an idea in mind. Even though the burning, the warning, is unavoidable, there’s something he can do. A small protest towards this cruel world, almost.

He quickly strides over to Sora’s lab, and grabs a small, muted-green cloth from the counter and a piece of twine, before stopping before a jar full of green dust. Tying a small pouch together, he carefully pours the powder into the cloth and creates a small packet with two long strings.

Sora seems to be not quite himself, staring out of the window, watching the rain droplets hit the glass and slide down. The moonlight illuminates the drops, making them sparkle like tiny stars against the dark backdrop of the night.

Tsukasa takes his place sitting next to Sora on the small couch - it's too big for one, yet too small for two, and they end up squashed next to each other, sharing one and a half a cushion each.

Sora looks over to Tsukasa, blue eyes wide with a psychedelic prism of emotions, reflecting different sides, different feelings.

Tsukasa wordlessly reaches over to tie the pouch over Sora's neck, securing the small bag. The necklace fits snuggly and blends in smoothly with Sora's robes, camouflaging with the folds.

Sora seems to take a moment to realize what Tsukasa's done until his eyes go wide with conflict, unsure of what to say or how to react.

It's bold. It's striking. It'll make everything easier.

His hands tremble as he holds the pouch in his palms, Tsukasa watching as he grabs it, and presses it against his chest. His eyes are determined, gleaming with new light.

Sora speaks, firmly, "...Sora won't let them be satisfied."

Tsukasa smiles, a solemn, sad, smile, but still a smile nonetheless, "We won't give them what they want."

He reaches out to ruffle Sora's hair- his hair is soft, flowing like waves of sand on the beach, or like wind-tousled grains in a never-ending field.

Sora giggles, a pure, happy sound that even with the layers upon layers of despairing feelings that night, still shines brightly like a beacon of hope, uniting both of them under its light.

And so, Tsukasa can't help but laugh too, laughing in the face of their horrible, twisted, situation. He laughs, until the sun comes up and the birds start to chirp and he has to finally leave.

—

That night, Sora hauls a large stone using his wand to the edge of a small clearing, before getting on his broom to float the stone to the bottom of a pit.

The pit is the same as they had left it, large, barren, and so far out of the city that no one had visited since their first encounter there. Dead leaves still lay at the bottom, crisp and crunchy as they kick up from Sora's entrance.

Tsukasa follows soon after, using a small rope to grapple down, carefully scaling the stone walls.

Eventually, both of them make it to the bottom. The full moon is high above them, shining light upon them as if they were on a stage.

Sora hums, and a small red point is at the end of his wand, glowing. Smoke starts to come off the tip, even though the wand itself isn't actually burning.

Tsukasa watches as Sora reaches to write something on the stone - his name. His handwriting is the same as it's always been, even when writing on a tomb: whimsical, fun, and a little messy.

Satisfied with the inscriptions, Sora steps back to add other things next to the stone- a few of his favorite games, the shooting star plushie, that framed photo, leaning against the stone, still as dusty as it was when it was hung up on the wall.

It's a strange feeling, Tsukasa thinks, making your own grave. The flowers he’s holding feel so much more heavier in his arms.

Finally, Sora places another photo- a new photo, the edges a glossy off-white, and in the very center, Tsukasa is standing next to an excited Sora, who’s posing for the camera with a large smile.

Tsukasa remembers when they got that photo printed: the day they went to town, they took one photo at the end of the day - the sunset hues leak through the background, coating both of them in orange light, a soft golden glow surrounding them. The sky is a brilliant array of colors behind them, capturing the transition between day and night in a slice of time, printed on paper in bright, eye-catching tones.

He leans down, slowly placing his flowers at the very center of the tomb, sunflowers. Blooming sunflowers, two of them, a reminder of brighter, happier, sun-kissed days.

They both stand in front of the grave. Tsukasa’s hands instinctively grab for Sora’s smaller ones, interlocking their fingers.

—

The torch spits and wavers, as if it were mocking him, it flickers, telling him how much of a coward he is that he can’t just get on with it and finish the job. However, it’s almost too much, having to look at Sora’s pitiful form, holding the flame as far away from his body as he can.

It is too much, and he hesitates right before the stake.

Sora’s head turns up, meeting Tsukasa’s eyes. The fire flashes in front of him, right before he sees Sora mouth some words.

You can do it.

Tsukasa shakes his head fervently. The crowd is too loud, yelling and screaming insults and slander, like a jumbled-up orchestra with no practice, yet all the confidence.

The sun is too hot, sweltering heat making his skin sticky with sweat, and his limbs ache as if his bones would start crumbling under the cruel sunshine.

It’s all too much. Too, too, too much.

He wishes it could be over already. Like some kind of crazy dream, he could wake up and forget this all happened. Yeah, that would be nice.

He wishes he could just spend today playing games, he wishes he could spend today frolicking in gardens and fields, he wishes he could spend today learning something new, with Sora by his side.

Instead, he’s forced to do this. This horrible, despicable thing he can't run away from. His head swirls, all mixed and messed up- is it from the heat, or his own unstable state?

He takes one step and feels the earth shake underneath him. It cracks, crumbles, and Tsukasa immediately wants to take the step back.

Isn’t there a way for everyone to be happy? Why did it have to turn out this way? Why couldn't everyone just live in peace? Why did someone have to be sacrificed for the "greater good"?

It’s all too complicated, and just makes his head hurt even more.

He takes another step, and another, and before he knows it, he’s before Sora, torch ready to set the stake ablaze.

Sora’s bound to the stake, wrapped up in rope, unable to move. He doesn’t struggle. His head droops low, his witch hat covering his face to the masses, making Tsukasa the only one able to see him.

Tsukasa notices wet stains on the dirt ground, right below Sora’s face. He doesn’t say anything.

He lifts the torch up, pausing.

He thinks about the past few months - every day a whirlwind of fun and adventure with Sora, a vortex of never-ending excitement and enjoyment. He thinks about their first meeting, two lonely kids looking to orbit each other, quickly becoming like a binary pair of stars, sustaining one another. He thinks about their outings, where they tried to do something new each day, showing each other something novel and experiencing it together.

Tsukasa could fill thousands of scrapbooks of just their memories, each page just as valuable as the last. Those memories shine in his heart, crystals of preserved amber, shards of diamonds reflecting the happiness of those days.

However, he can’t hold onto those days anymore. He needs to let go, for the sake of them both.

He feels the familiar tug of tears, the itching in his throat to just sob and cry, but he holds it in, and lights the stake - and, with a quick flick of the wrist, sets fire to the bag.

The stake is soon engulfed in flames, large, red, fiery flames that roar and crackle, and Sora sits in the very center of it, trapped in the tornado of fire. The crowd seems to cheer, but Tsukasa isn’t paying attention anymore. Instead, he looks up, and sees green smoke.

It only takes a few seconds before everything explodes in bursts of flaming wood and bloody screams.

Something splatters on the ground, people trip as they flee, and the entire venue is bathed in chaos - like prey scattering from the top predator. It’s pure pandemonium, the explosion loud enough for the entire city to hear.

Tsukasa just stays there, until something falls at his feet. A piece of Sora’s hat - it’s nearly charred beyond recognition, but the pattern is still there.

He goes to pick it up, but it crumbles into ashes at his touch, the dust flying away in the gust.

When the fire dies down, nothing’s left - except, that’s not the case.

He’s still there, with me, Tsukasa thinks, grasping at his chest.

Those memories we made under this very same sun, more valuable than silver or gold, shining like stars - I’ll keep them with me, till the day I can see you again, my shooting star.