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The sun was high in the sky and beating down on his back. The slight breeze flitting through his clothes lessened the burden of the sun. It was a favourable day to be paying ones respects.
It had been two years since he fell to earth, and he still hadn’t fully recovered. He walks purposefully towards his designated location with a slight limp, that he fears will never change. However it was a small price to pay for what he went through, and still being alive.
The grave site was small, secluded and most importantly, on Earth. Just as it should be, it was fitting the Terran boy be buried here. It had taken him more than a year to find this place, the defamation on the young man’s name was widespread, it had to be kept secret to avoid people coming to desecrate it. It was surprising the boy received a grave site at all. It must have been the Empress’s doing. But after the lies she spun around the dead man’s name, this hardly makes up for it.
In the distance he can see a figure sitting in the grass beside his master’s resting place. His eyebrows knit together in confusion, who would?
-
After 10 long months in prison, Slaine Troyard passed away. His health had steadily declined from the day he was incarcerated. It was no surprise to Inaho, he could see it coming. The man refused to take meals or accept any form of help offered him. It was a lost cause from the beginning. Between learning of deception behind his name and the Empress’s complete disregard, he lost the will to live. Or maybe it happened long before then, Inaho would never know. All he knew was that he failed to save him. In the last few weeks of his life, Inaho visited more frequently and the conversations they had only made him wish he had tried harder.
Inaho sits by the grave in quiet solitude playing a match against himself on a portable chess set. He sister used to complain about how often he visited the dead-man, when the man had still been very much alive. He wonders what she would say now, that he spends more time with him than he ever did when he had been alive. Its peaceful. Although he is very much alone and the boy six feet below him has long since passed, Inaho still feels a sense of companionship every time he visits. Maybe he should have brought lunches more often, maybe he should have tried to talk more, maybe...maybe...maybe… Maybe none of it would have helped at all.
In the end, he failed.
Inaho looks up to the sky as a flock of birds pass overhead. He never thought much about the afterlife nor cared whether one existed but in this moment he hopes Slaine has found the freedom he could never grasp in all his years trapped between Earth and Mars. He hopes in death he can finally make peace with himself and finally stretch his wings to their full potential. He hopes in death, he can finally live. Unbound by the chains of war, race, class, society, the Princess.
He never saw Slaine truly smile but his brain fills in the pieces as he pictures Slaine smiling down at him as if to say ha how does it feel to have failed at something?
He moves a piece on the board not paying much attention to the game anymore.
Look at you still wasting your time with a dead-man who never wanted your company to begin with. Pathetic.
Another piece. Checkmate. The white queen takes the black king.
The game ended 14 months ago.
He doesn’t know what else to do. Work, sleep, call Yuki, update his friends when they reach out, rinse and repeat. That is what his life has become, monotonous.
Inaho is shaken from his thoughts when he notices someone approaching and is instantly on high alert. Not many know of this place, and he doesn’t recognize the man steadily approaching. Tall with hair so dark it almost looks navy blue under the sunlight, he looks to be a few years older than himself. The man looks caught off guard at seeing Inaho, he must not have expected anyone to be here.
-
He stopped short at the suspicious figure lurking around his master’s grave. He walked faster, with more purpose trying to look authoritative. Who was this person, what were their intentions?
As he approaches the figure’s features become clearer and as if sensing his presence they look up directly to where he stands. It’s young man in his late teen or early twenties, his eyes flicker to the chess set on the ground then back to the boy. They make eye contact and he realizes the boy is missing his left eye. The singular red eye staring at him is unsettling enough, looking through him but not at him.
He approaches quietly. Its obvious the boy hadn’t expected anyone to come here just as he hadn’t expected anyone to be here. The brunette's gaze follows him as he makes his way towards him. He should pay his respects quietly and be on his way to come back another day when he can visit in peace but his curiosity gets the best of him.
“Who are you?” The man’s tone is defensive as he looks down at Inaho. Inaho responds with a question of his own. He wants to leave since his peace has been disturbed but it is suspicious that someone would know of this place and willingly come visit it for a reason other then to vandalize it.
“How do you know of this place?”
His tone is accusatory and the man is taken aback. He doesn’t answer, he doesn’t know if it’s safe to reveal his sources to the younger man.
“If you’ve come to deface this place, it’s futile, I will not allow it.”
“How dare you.” The dark haired man fumes “I would never do such a thing to my master’s-” The man stops short realizing he’s said too much. The boy is quick to call him out on it.
“Master?”
He lets out a defeated sigh. “Yes, I am his loyal servant.”
The boy’s eyebrows furrow slightly, deep in thought, never breaking eye contact still assessing the man standing before him.
“What is your name?”
“Harklight.”
“Harklight..” The boy parrots pausing briefly before adding “He spoke fondly of you.”
It’s clear who the boy is talking about. He had no idea who this boy was or how he knew the deceased count. And know him enough to have spoke with him, and to have spoken with him about Harklight himself, it must have been recent but that makes no sense.
“Who are you? How did you know him?”
“Inaho, Kaizuka Inaho. And I-” Harklight doesn’t hear the rest. The name sent his mind reeling. He knew that name. The pilot of the orange kataphrakt that always got in the way. The enemy. Why was he here, as if he hadn’t tormented his master enough while he was alive.
“You killed him, you won, why are you here? What more do you want of him?” A brief expression of shock passes over Inaho’s features but is quickly masked.
“Ah, you know of me.” The boy’s indifferent reply angers him even more.
“You are the enemy.”
An emotion passes briefly over the boy’s face but it is masked to quickly for Harklight to decipher. “It is troubling that you still consider me an enemy in a time of peace, the war is over by two years.”
“You have no idea how troubling you were to him. You killed him. I am still loyal to him, you are the enemy.” He seethes.
“On the contrary I am well aware.”
“Why you-”
-
Inaho quickly cuts him off before he begins acting irrationally.
“Besides I didn’t kill him.”
Harklight’s features adjust from cold bitter resentment to incredulous.
Inaho wonders whether he should tell this man, Harklight what truly happened to Slaine Troyard. It is not supposed to be known to anyone, the military’s biggest secret. He doesn’t know if he can trust the man but he feels that if anyone, he deserves to know the truth. Judging from how fondly Slaine spoke of him, he must have played a big role in his life. And it is obvious Harklight cared for Slaine deeply. Besides this man seemed… interesting, he wouldn’t mind spending more time with him. Inaho comes to a decision.
Inaho motions to the ground before him “Have a seat.”
Skeptical, Harklight hesitates before he sits down across from Inaho, the chess board between them.
“Do you know how to play chess?”
“I haven’t played in years.” It looks as though he is remembering something sentimental as his face relaxes. It suits him better.
“I played often with Slaine, before he passed.” It’s clear the statement is a shock to Harklight, but the man refrains from speaking out and Inaho continues.
“Let’s play a match.”
Harklight is understandably unsure. Inaho can only guess at his conflicting feelings. Being so loyal to Slaine still, playing chess with his enemy by his grave no less was probably the last thing the man wished to do.
“We have much to talk about.”
At that, Harklight nods, seemingly understanding what Inaho means and picks up a white pawn making the the first move. A new game has begun.