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He didn’t get a chance to process it much, the first time it sank in. After all, they were at war with Tsukasa then; it wouldn’t have done to be stuck in a depressive funk. And there was no time almost immediately after, plus he’d never been the type to get overly emotional.
But sometimes, in Ishigami Village’s newly constructed showers, with his hair hanging from the weight of water, he can’t bring himself to look in the mirror before drying it. He cannot look too hard at the shape of his own face, in his own reflection, nor can he swallow Francois’s world-class ramen without feeling his throat close up too tight, just a bit.
—fuck off, old man, get your own chashu (Language!)—
And the first time he saw fireworks again in 3,700 years? They looked a little too bright and caused a pulsing in his chest that he recognised, but refused to name. It was a very good thing that he stood to the side, away from the crowd then.
—Aww, come on! What sort of kid reacts like that to fireworks? —
Well, there is no crowd now, at least. Not in the usual sense anyway, although there were comms and cameras hooked to him. And if anyone asked at all? The sun was too piercing.
Thus, alone, 600 kilometres above the surface of the Earth, treading where no man has tread in the last 3,700 years, a boy brings his forearm to his eyes, only to bump into the glass of his helmet and laugh a watery laugh. And when he has finished with all his tasks and returned to the space station, his comrades would not question or berate him about the salt tracks crisscrossing his face, choosing instead to embrace him.
But for now, spinning slightly amongst the stars, he mourns what could’ve been, and imagines, from a brief moment, that he hears faint, fond laughter, followed by his own name. If he doesn’t turn—and he doesn’t, for the suit made such motions difficult—he could almost imagine there was someone behind him, closer than they’d ever been.
Then, after a few heartbeats, he smiles, despite the moisture trying to escape upwards from his lashes. “Thank you,” he thinks out to the universe, now softer and wider than ever, because of what had once been in it.
Senkuu blows his nose slightly for safety measures, and turns away from the view. Then he goes back to work.