Work Text:
The Wild East is fairly calm, after everything. Not that Ceroba is trying to really pay attention to it right now. It’s hard to really pay attention to anything.
Through her grief, her childhood best friend stays by her side. He makes sure each day that she’s doing alright, cares for her in such a gentle way that Ceroba starts to see the differences between the wild sheriff, North Star, and her shy, yet excitable friend, Starlo. She also starts to see how they mesh together. How his own grief has affected him.
Truth is, even if the root of all their problems is different, Ceroba can tell the grief she holds for Clover is shared. Starlo was starting to love that kid like family, and she knows that. She could tell in the way he was so proud of them when they were still here, how he couldn’t bear to look at Clover’s soul once they had left it with the King, and how he had cried at their final send-off for the kid, even if she was the only one to know.
Ceroba, inexplicably, sees Chujin in him, as much as she doesn’t want to. Sure, they’re both really different, but if there was one thing Ceroba knew her late husband as, it would be a father who loved his family. She sees the same in Starlo. Someone who loved and lost someone they considered almost like a child.
She shouldn’t be thinking that, though.
Thus: the quiet of the Wild East. North Star isn’t the type to show his grief, even when it’s been a long time since it started. Starlo is. Starlo can’t always contain it, and Ceroba doesn’t think she wants him to. So, he’s been a bit more distant from the town lately, staying with Ceroba and allowing them to work through everything together, slowly but surely, one step at a time.
It isn’t all bad, really. They’re best friends. Ceroba trusts him. She also just can’t help but see the ghosts of her past around him. A fall, a twisted ankle. Chujin ripping his red robe to help her. Starlo taking the time to safely wrap the injury. A child’s enthusiasm. Chujin by Kanako’s side, teaching her how to play the game he programmed for her. Starlo teaching young monsters in the Wild East about westerns and making safe missions for them. A quiet night. Chujin holding her. Starlo–
“‘Roba?”
Ceroba shakes her head, and looks up. The saloon is lively tonight, songs from a local band carrying through the building. By her side, Starlo watches her, concern shining in his eyes. “Everythin’ alright?”
Right. She… really shouldn’t be thinking about things like this. She doesn’t think she’d ever want to hurt Chujin like that, even if he’s gone. “Yeah,” she says, and she can tell Starlo doesn’t believe her. “Don’t worry about it,” she adds, taking a sip of the drink Dina made for her. “I still can’t believe you managed to drag me to this little party of yours.”
Truth is, it wasn’t Starlo’s idea. His posse had been the ones to think of it after the town got too quiet, asking Ceroba for ways they could get Starlo to enjoy a bit of fun after being out of it for so long. She had told them music and friends would be enough. She knows well from the time they’ve spent together, both in the past and now, that Starlo loves the community he built. Even if he may not be active enough to be back to his full North Star self, he’d probably just enjoy being around the people he loves.
Of course, he hadn’t known she had a part in it when he asked her to come with him, and originally she had thought he’d be going with his posse, but— she’d be a fool to believe she wasn’t going to tag along.
“It took a bit of convincin’,” Starlo replies, a smirk on his lips. “But y’know you can’t say no to me.”
“I can, actually,” Ceroba retorts, and snickers as her friend is briefly knocked out of his confident persona. “Cool it, Star. You know I’m messing with you.”
Starlo huffs, and takes a sip of his own drink. Ceroba absentmindedly notes the way his starry, freckled cheeks have flushed, glowing with teal light, and stifles another laugh. He’s awfully cute when he’s flustered.
Wait–
She turns away again. In the back of her mind, she can hear what she wants to think is Chujin’s spirit scolding her. What is she even thinking? Instead, she tries to focus on the sound of the music around her, gentle guitar strums and a singer’s voice through the building. White noise from the chatter and laughter of monsters numbs her mind and worries, offering a brief moment of respite.
And just like that, her friend’s voice enters her mind again. She can hear him, among the music and the white noise, humming along to the song being played in the saloon, mumble-singing the lyrics. She glances back over to him, and smiles. “You know the song?”
He nods and keeps humming, only briefly pausing to speak. “Yeah! I’ve heard them play this one from time to time back in Oasis Valley, when me and Orion are takin’ care of the corn stands. I always enjoyed hearin’ it.”
He keeps humming along to the tune, mumble-singing a bit more clear. Ceroba listens, turning one of her fox-like ears toward him to make sure the other noise is drowned out. It’s no secret to anyone: Starlo is a good singer. Sunnyside genes, Ceroba supposes. That whole family sings well— she’s heard it herself, visiting their home back when she was a kid. Whether it was the group of them singing in the corn field to pass the time during the harvest, or just them on their own, she had always made sure to listen to Starlo.
Can anyone blame her for that, though? Who wouldn’t listen to a good voice, especially when you don’t hear it often? It’s not like Starlo sings much nowadays, especially when he’s playing the role of North Star. Tonight seems to be an exception.
“If you’re going to sing, Star,” Ceroba begins, quietly, “you can sing it louder. It isn’t like everyone’s judging you.”
Starlo’s cheeks flush again, and he laughs. “Nah, ‘s okay. I’ll be fine. Besides, I think I’d rather—“ he slips off the chair, “do somethin’ else.”
Ceroba expects him to start getting ready to leave, having spent his social battery for the night, but instead he reaches out a hand to his best friend, open, inviting. “May I ask for a dance, ‘Roba?”
Ceroba freezes. She can hear Chujin’s voice in the back of her mind, telling her she shouldn’t do it. She shouldn’t take Starlo’s hand. Shouldn’t take the risk– the risk of forgetting the one she once loved, the risk of loving again, the risk of losing it all. She toils over the option in her mind, knowing full well she shouldn’t just leave him hanging.
She sucks in a deep breath. Starlo’s hopeful smile wavers.
Screw it. Ceroba takes his hand. “Anything for you, Star.”
He grins, wider than Ceroba’s ever seen him smile in the recent days, and glances over to the bartender. “Hey, Dina! Put my and Ceroba’s drinks on my tab!”
After Dina laughs and nods, they’re off. Ceroba follows Starlo to a more open space in the saloon, guided by a gentle touch. The song from the band continues to echo around her. When they’re there, she looks up at Starlo, and then glances around. Her ears flick, and flatten as she sees the faces of some of the townspeople turned toward them. Starlo quietly calls her name, though, and she quickly turns her attention back to him.
“We don’t have to stay out here, if you don’t want to,” he murmurs, dropping the faux accent for a moment as he offers an out, and Ceroba squeezes his hand.
“It’s not like we haven’t been seen around each other before. We’ve been there for each other through everything. Whatever anyone says can’t faze me anymore.”
Starlo hums, and swallows. “Right.” Shakily, he places a hand on her waist, and Ceroba notes the break in the persona, a bit of her best friend’s anxiety shining through. “Are you sure this is okay?”
Ceroba nods, and places her arms around his neck. “Just… keep singing,” she says, and curses internally at how direct she’s being. “I like how it sounds.”
From this close, she can see the way Starlo’s blush lights the rims of his glasses, mostly hidden by the shadow of his hat. “Of course,” Starlo promises, and begins to dance with her.
Ceroba knows she shouldn’t enjoy it as much as she does. She shouldn’t be laser-focused on Starlo’s voice, shouldn’t be focused on the way they glide through the open space together, seamlessly, like they’ve done this a thousand times over. She shouldn’t be grinning, shouldn’t be laughing along as her friend spins and dips her for a portion of the song. She shouldn’t be back to taking his hand, shouldn’t let herself be held so gently. There’s love in Starlo’s touch, warm and comforting to her aching heart, and Ceroba knows. She doesn’t understand why she’s not pulling away.
Maybe it’s that they’re best friends. Maybe it’s that she knows Starlo, knows he won’t make her do anything she doesn’t want to. Maybe it’s that she’s been getting close with him again, craving his presence through their highs and lows. But she also knows it’s just a dance, nothing more to anyone watching.
Chujin would be furious. And yet, she stays right where she is.
Maybe, just maybe, her arms wrapped once more around the sheriff’s neck, both of them grinning and singing along like they’re kids again, she’s happy she took the risk.