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Vajra never thought something like this would happen. That it could happen in the first place. Stuck in his weapon form, eaten by his meister, unable to hear, feel, or see anything. Stuck alone with his thoughts, and occasionally the thoughts and feelings of his meister.
Former meister?
It feels wrong to call him his former meister, Asura still uses him as his weapon and they still resonate occasionally. Well, mostly Vajra reaches out to resonate, wanting to feel something, anything, from his former… friend? And occasionally Asura will let him. Unspeaking. But undeniably there.
He isn't sure whether he'd rather Asura say something the few times he'd let the weapon resonate with him, wishes the reaper would answer his questions, or if he prefers the silence. After all in the silence, Vajra can at least pretend it's mostly fine. That it's just one of those nights where Vajra is feeling chatty while Asura is only in the mood to listen. He never could tell if Asura enjoyed those long nights just listening to his weapon talk about everything and nothing all at once. It seemed like he did, he always looked so attentive even when his face was wrapped in scarves.
The rare times his face was uncovered was a treat. Asura always looked at Vajra like he was the sun. The only light that mattered. Maybe that's why he did it, Vajra wonders to himself, to keep his light with him no matter what.
Reaching out with his soul to resonate, Vajra is relieved when he feels the familiar soul reaching back out to him in turn. Asura's wavelength always reminded him of the sea, dark, powerful, and ever-churning. Rarely still or calm. But utterly beautiful in its strength and devastating ability.
“Asura?” Vajra starts, not truly expecting a response. He's past that foolish hope. Long past. So he isn't bothered when he gets no response. “It's been a while has it not? We haven't fought any battles in a while. No more souls either. Is something going on?”
He prompts the reaper to answer, yet silence is all he gets in response. Silence and a bitter taste in his soul as Asura's emotions turn sour. Vajra isn't sure exactly how long it's been since Asura swallowed him whole, but he's sure it's been a long time. He's sure it's also been at least a couple of months since the last time he was spit up into Asura's mouth to be fired off. It's unusual to say the least, for Asura to not be seeking more souls in his fearful grabbing at power. “Sore subject? I guess something did happen, then. You can talk to me. I'd listen. I always have listened, the few times you'd want to talk about what's eating you.”
Again, no response is given. Just the feeling of Asura starting to pull away as Vajra suggests talking about whatever has happened, causing a surge of panic to course through the weapon’s own soul. He doesn't want to feel this connection severed so soon. Not when he hardly gets it in the first place. “Wait! Wait, please. Asura. You don't have to talk, sorry. Just… Stay. Please. It's lonely.”
There's a fleeting moment where Vajra feels the smallest pang from Asura, a feeling as heavy and grating as broken glass on skin. It's gone so quickly that he almost thinks he imagined it, the sour feeling of regret filtering over to him from Asura's soul. But he's sure he felt it. “...You know… I miss a lot of things. I think I took a lot of things for granted, like the sun on my skin… the sun. Oh! Remember all those sunny days of training? I always wondered how you never got overheated in all those clothes. I guess you aren't human though, so that's not something you'd be bothered by.”
Vajra pauses for a moment, remembering those better days. Asura is thinking about them too, he can tell, based on the shift in the meister's emotions. Lighter. Softer. He treasures those moments still, even in all his madness. “I miss when we'd finish training and I'd convince you to lay with me. To feel the sun warm you, the grass tickling your back, the sweat cooling on our skin. And we'd talk. Or I'd talk, and you would listen, depending on the day. Did you like those talks? You were always hard to read, even for me. But I hope I helped you, even just for a moment.”
Another pause. Maybe Vajra is still hoping for some form of response. Humans are pack animals, after all, social needs are important for them. A human can only go so long in solitary confinement before their mind erodes past repair.
Does Asura know that? Vajra wonders for a moment. The reaper isn't human after all. Not in the slightest. He doesn't have human needs. He doesn't think like a human. Vajra has experienced this over and over during their partnership. Yet if given a chance to do it over he wouldn't choose to hand himself over to any other meister. He'd have chosen Asura over and over.
“Why?” He thinks to himself, a quiet question he already knows the answer to. Knew the answer to the question long ago. He loves him. Plain and simple. He wants to help him. To ease some of that fear that tears at the reaper's mind for even a second. To coax a dry and weary laugh from between those cracked and bitten lips. Love is such a silly thing, it sneaks up on you when you least expect it.
And it keeps you caged like a bird, even if the door is wide open, it clips wings and breaks you down. Makes you content as the temperature is turned up and the water boils over.
“At least I still have you.” Vajra mumbles, not fighting as Asura starts to pull away yet again. Though before the resonance is completely cut off, he speaks one last sentence to the brick wall. “I love you, Asura.”
“...I know.”