Chapter Text
It's often said that time heals even the deepest of wounds.
But what no one ever tells you is how long that it can take.
Starlo's eyes peered out from beneath his hat. A soft breeze blew around him, lightly tossing sand onto his poncho. It too waved and swept around from the wind's touch. He stared ahead, taking in the view of the all too familiar Ketsukane house. Silently, he stepped forward, ascending the front porch and putting a hand onto the door. He glanced to the side; aside from a streak or two of sand, the porch was clean. Satisfied, Starlo pushed the door open and entered.
The occasional creak piped up as Starlo walked on the floorboards. In front of him, a shoji depicting red flowers and twisty thorns adorned the door. He scanned the rest of the room, noting that the cacti were dark green and healthy. He walked forward towards the large, sliding door frame and reached into one of his poncho's pockets. Starlo pulled out a feather duster and brushed it against some of the wood, letting specks of dust fall to the ground.
He nodded and looked around once more. Again satisfied, Starlo turned to his right and went over to the next door. He slid it to the side, entering the hallway behind it and allowed the door to slide back shut. A small wispy gust pushed forth as the door opened, disrupting the otherwise stale air of the estate. His eyes darted to the door on his left briefly before he continued down and around the corner, coming to the kitchen. All the dishes, bowls and utensils were stored away in their proper homes. A large sink sat pressed against the wall in the middle, with the stove to its left and a counter to the right. A jade colored watering pail sat on top of the counter. Starlo took it and dunked it in the sink water, letting the water rush to the inside of it. Once it was full, he turned around. He walked and rounded the corner once more, stopping in front of the door that he passed earlier.
Starlo turned the doorknob; with a small creak the door opened. He took in a short breath and sighed, making his way to the right-hand side of the bed. A tall plant in a pot sat snugly between the nightstand and the wardrobe. Starlo poured some water around its base while brushing a small splotch of dust away from the nightstand. He then walked over to the left-hand side of the bed where a second pot stood between the wall and another nightstand, empty except for a single small picture frame that was turned around to face away from the center of the room.
He held the watering pail over the plant, watering this one as well. With the tasks completed, he lingered in the room in silence. His left hand shook slightly as he lifted it ever so lightly towards the frame. It hovered unsteadily for a few seconds before he dropped it down to his side and swiftly exited the room. He closed the door behind him, holding the doorknob in his grip for a few moments before releasing and once again going down the hallway. His footsteps quietly echoed through the passageway.
He passed through the kitchen and went down the next hallway. He then walked halfway through to the dining room. Starlo paused in the middle of the room, letting the heat of the fireplace wash over him. Flames lazily licked against the wood – a magic keeping it burning, even after all this time. He turned his head, watching as he cast a long shadow against the wall behind him. It swayed from side to side, keeping rhythm with the crackling fire behind him. His eyes then moved downward toward the rug under the table.
He blinked at it a few times and lowered his head slightly. “Maybe we never should've found it.” The words hung solemnly in the air with no one to answer them.
Starlo continued his walk through the house. In the next room he nodded at the closed door, and walked a few more steps towards an open staircase. He put a hand on the railway and one foot on the staircase, but stopped short of climbing it. He brushed the rails slightly and found no dust; it seemed to still be clean and tidy from the last time he came. Once again he turned around, drifting from the stairs and heading south through the estate. Starlo walked down the hallway and rounded the corner, glancing to his left as he did. Seeing one of the two pictures on the wall slightly ajar, he paused to adjust it without registering their contents. Once more, he continued on down the hall and slid open the door, returning to the foyer from which he began. He closed the door behind him, looked around the room for a moment, and then left through the front door.
Hot air washed over him when he passed through the threshold to the outside. Descending the stairs, he made a turn to his right. Starlo walked around to the side of the house and continued walking along the path behind it. His stomach faintly tightened. Despite the overbearing warmth of the Dunes, his face stung with a chill. Soon, the yellow desert gave way to shades of green; grass and bushes and flowers swayed on each side of Starlo. Looking ahead, a single tree stood watch over a gravestone. Starlo's eyes darted between the candles surrounding the tall headstone. A shallow trench went around it, creating a small island-like structure where it stood.
Instead of walking to it, though, he detoured to the left and headed for the tree. Near it, a spot in the grass flattened out into a vague, humanoid depression. As he approached, he removed his gloves and quietly stuffed them into his poncho. He looked down, walked a few more paces and stopped.
“This doesn't get any easier,” he said after awhile. Leafs swirled around him as the breeze picked up. Below and in front of him, a white tombstone faced him. In front of it, the cracked and ruined remains of Kanako's mask looked back at him. Seconds turned to minutes as he locked eyes with the mask, and Starlo longed to see someone, anything, look back at him.
The tombstone had but five words inscribed into it. “Ceroba Ketsukane, our ardent friend.”
“I did another pass of the house,” he spoke softly. Instinctively, he reached out and touched the top of the tombstone. “Watered a few plants, dusted a few things. The porch was nice and tidy, just as I left it last time too.”
The rustling of the tree's branches echoed in his ears as they dipped and rose with the small gusts of wind.
“Your magic keeps the fireplace aflame. It's mighty impressive.” He began to choke on his words. “It's a hearty warmth, you know. It feels like you're resting at home when you're near it.” Starlo blinked a few times, letting the tears forming at his eyes to drip to the ground. “It'll burn forever, I'm sure. Every time I go inside it'll... it'll be there. Waiting for me... just as bright and brilliant as ever.”
He lowered his head and leaned forward; droplets fell rapidly, beating against the stone.
Minutes passed as the tears trickle down. Starlo's sobs danced with the cooing of the wind. Chujin was gone, Kanako fell and there had never been word back from The Royal Scientist. And now Ceroba, too, no longer walked, and ate, and bantered and lived among the denizens of the Dunes. She too, was gone.
Starlo soon stopped crying and wiped his face. He stood up straight, and peered out over the cliff and out to the horizon.
“Justice,” he muttered. “Somehow, I'm to believe this was just.” He shook his head, recounting the endless times he'd stood in this spot and thought about justice. The word soured his mouth like a rotten slab of meat. “That damn kid and their so-called justice...” He thought back to the last time he saw Clover, staring into their eyes one last time on a roof in New Home before trudging right past them.
“What would be right... is you being here, with me and the others. Where you belong. Not reduced to dust that's been scattered across the Underground.”
He clenched one of his fists tightly, holding it for a moment before sighing and releasing it. “I'll be around, Ceroba.”
He left out a heavy sigh and left, returning to the Ketsukane house. He walked on past it and began to head back to the oasis. As he approached the front gate of the house, he saw a group walking towards him.
“See? I told you that he'd be here,” Ed said.
“Right you were, Ed,” Moray said.
“Checking the arcade first was more fun, though,” Mooch chimed in.
“But ultimately futile,” Ace replied.
Starlo kept his gaze forward as he closed the distance between them.
“Anyway,” Ed began, “You didn't show up for lunch today, Starlo, so we-”
“North Star,” Starlo replied.
“Hmm?”
Starlo strode forward, until he was standing right in front of the four of them. “I've already told y'all a bunch of times already. I go by North Star again.”
They all stood still as Starlo walked passed him. After a few paces he turned and called out to them. “Come on, let's head back to town.”