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The most startling thing about entering Tokyo was looking up. In Mikado, even on the darkest and most overcast of nights, one could still faintly see the outlines of the moon and stars behind the thick clouds, promising their eventual return. Not so beneath the ceiling. Any stray glance upward was punished with the sight of the ceiling- craggy, twisted rock fading into a dark abyss. Its only source of illumination were the dull spots of light trailing across its surface, seemingly always outside one’s field of vision. In a kinder world, it might be assumed that their resemblance to stars was pure coincidence, but it was hard to shake the feeling that the demons producing those points of light were doing so specifically to torment the humans below them with now-faded memories of what a night sky ought to look like.
This was the scene Walter stared out on from his seat atop the roof of Cafe Florida. He was, (characteristically as of late), in a foul mood. Part of it was due to shame at being so thoroughly humbled in his attempt to strike out on his own- he had needed Flynn and the others to even get inside the cafe, and then had put his foot in his mouth in front of the man he was seeking out in the first place, after all. Another contributor to his temper had been Flynn’s announcement to the group after receiving their intel that they had neither money nor items, and that everyone needed to take the day to rest and then scrounge up some cash to ready themselves for a difficult battle. Try as he might, Walter couldn’t really find a good reason not to do as he said (although he allowed himself to harbor a slight annoyance at the announcement, given Flynn’s apparent allowance in the budget for fashion). However, people usually become de facto group leaders for a reason, and a hard battle isn’t won on 4 hours of sleep and a couple life stones. Flynn, shameless as always, had simply asked Fujiwara for his permission to stay in one of the rooms above the cafe for a few days as they prepared. Fujiwara, apparently impressed with his boldness, had agreed.
The events of the last 24 hours seemed to rob him of his ability to sleep, while his fellows were strewn about the floor of the small room atop thin blankets and half-stuffed pillows. Feeling like even his thoughts were being confined by the four windowless walls, he got up and made for the small ladder on the side of the fire escape leading to the roof.
Patience had never been one of his strongest qualities, and knowing that uncovering some kind of shocking truth, as Lilith had promised he would, was just one battle away left him restless. But that wasn’t all. There was something else that had been bothering him, that he couldn’t put a name to. Since they set foot in Tokyo- or maybe even before he even became a samurai. It was as if something had been set into motion, a mechanism the scale of which was completely beyond the realm of human comprehension, with he and his fellows helplessly stuck between its gears. Since he was a child, he had felt that he was running a futile race against his own future, but this was different- more sinister, and closing in much faster.
The encounter with Lilith had exacerbated it, of course. His clash with Jonathan- fucking Jonathan, that Luxuror bastard, he’s never understood, never even TRIED to understand, really, what did Walter ever even see in-
He shook his head sharply once, trying to clear his mind of the anger that had overtaken it. He had been finding it difficult to remember what it was about Jonathan that had attracted him to the boy in the first place as of late. It was as if all his old warm feelings had been replaced with that deep and awful frustration, the one he felt from his heart and his stomach whenever the matter of his upbringing came up among other Luxurors. He had sat with the feeling his entire life, but lately it was as if his heart was set to boil over every time he looked at-
“Walter!”
The sudden voice behind him jarred him out of his thoughts, making him aware of the pain in his jaw from clenching it for so long.
“Thank Heaven! When I heard you getting up, I thought you had-“
“Jonathan. Spare me of this. Sit.”
Jonathan somewhat sheepishly took a seat beside Walter on the roof, pushing his coat out behind him as he sank to the ground. Walter continued to pointedly stare out across the remains of the Tokyo skyline. Jonathan, however, did not take his eyes off Walter once. He noticed.
“Walter, y-“
“Do you know what I miss about home?”
Jonathan continued to stare at him silently, an invitation for him to continue .
“The sky.”
Jonathan now turned to look out at the level mess of shattered skyscrapers and apartment buildings, obscuring one another and framing the dome overtop their heads. The difference between the view from their first rooftop meeting in Mikado, where the whole of the kingdom was laid bare beneath them, was stark. Walter continued.
“After a days work was through, my siblings and I would climb atop our roof and look at the stars.. We’d speak of what might be up there, try to find constellations.. anything but facing the tedium of the next day. Another step down the horrible dull road that had been set for us. It sickens you, to even think about the sun rising in the morning…that was our only escape.
But I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
Walter now allowed himself to risk a glance over at Jonathan, who was staring at him with wide, wet eyes. He looked as if he was being eaten up from the inside.
“Walter- I-“
Walter allowed himself, for one precious moment, to hope that Jonathan would understand. He felt a lightness in his chest as he let that distant possibility enter his heart, that maybe, after all he had said, Jonathan would finally just get it, and they could go back to the way they were, he could escape from the jaws of that terrible fate that he felt closing in-
“I cannot believe you have allowed Lillith’s words such purchase!”
That bit of hope burned up in an instant. Walter felt like he had been shot. He turned away from Jonathan and shifted his weight to get up from his seat, unable to meet Jonathan’s eyes again.
“Wait!”
Jonathan had the sleeve of Walter’s uniform balled tightly in his fist, holding it in place with that surprising strength that his gentle demeanor belied. Walter looked at him fiercely. The tears he could see welling up in his eyes earlier had already begun to fall freely.
“Walter, I beg of you, do not leave me-leave us again! Why, when you dashed off, I w-I was absolutely sick with worry, Walter! It’s dangerous out there, and you could have been hurt, or, perish the thought, even worse-”
Jonathan paused to swallow some of the phlegm that was thickening his speech.
“And I don’t know what I’m to do, Walter! You’re the first real companion i’ve had in my 18 years, the first I could talk to freely, the first I’d-”
He cast his eyes, reddened as a symptom of the amount of tears streaming from them, downward briefly before returning them to meet Walter’s gaze.
“Walter, I need you here.”
Walter closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a short sigh, and asked the only question that was on his mind.
“Jonathan. Do you still pray for me?”
The other samurai had now calmed down slightly, though stray tears still leaked from the corners of his eyes, flowing without much resistance down the wet tracks left on his cheeks. His mouth opened and closed a few times before forming an answer.
“Yes.I- I know you asked me to leave your name out of it but I cannot simply-
Jonathan forced down another wave of tears.
“What am I to do, let you be condemned for my actions? It’s selfish of me, to continue to ask you to…to be involved with me like this- and yet, I… persist. But- what if my prayers were not heard, for even a day, and your immortal soul were to come to harm? I cannot abide that possibility, Walter. You mean too much to me.”
Ordinarily, seeing this sentiment from Jonathan only served to irritate Walter. That devotion to this institution that he knows condemns his friends, to include him in a prayer to those forces that would supposedly have him struck dead, rather than finding it within himself to look beyond it, was irreconcilable with Walter’s view of the world. But now, looking down his sleeve at Jonathan, into those earnest brown eyes of his, he felt himself recalling that initial warmth he felt towards him amongst that familiar annoyance. This was who Jonathan was. He was foolish, certainly, and unwilling- or unable- to understand the need for change within Mikado, insistent on preserving the systems that had so burned Walter as a child- and yet… He was just so damn kind, wasn’t he? Looking into Jonathan’s eyes, having just heard him pour his heart out about how deeply he cared for him, couldn’t bear to see him hurt…Walter felt as if he was looking beyond that wedge that had grown between them, seeing the gentle yet passionate young man that he’d become close with in the first place.
Walter sighed slightly and shifted his weight to return fully to his sitting position.
“I’m not leaving now, Jonathan. I hope I don’t have to.”
Jonathan tentatively released his arm from his grip. Walter moved his own hand under Jonathan’s as it slipped away from his sleeve. He held it in place for a moment, running his thumb lightly over the top of Jonathan’s fingers. Both held their breath, as if the slightest disturbance might bring them right back into that same argument they’d been slipping into more and more as of late. The moment was broken by Walter bringing the other Samurai’s hand up to his lips and planting a brief kiss upon it before rearranging his own hands as they were before, limply resting in his lap. He didn’t want his feelings to slip away from him again.
Wordlessly, Jonathan inched closer to him and leaned his weight against him. Walter imagined- or hoped- that Jonathan was as capable of seeing their paths drifting apart as he was. That horrible feeling of impending doom, his uneasiness over whatever cruel twists fate had in store for them had not subsided. But, he decided, just for a little while, he could try to pretend he didn’t see it.
“We’ve only a few hours before we have to leave in the morning. We could watch the stars, as you did back home…”
Jonathan’s mumbling brought him back into the moment.
“The stars?”
“Ah- see the demons flying across the ceiling?”
Walter looked up to the bright specks trailing lazily through the stagnant, dark air above them. Jonathan continued.
“I suppose… We could imagine them to be the stars, for now.”
Walter sighed.
“Very well. For now.”
The pair turned their gaze upward, watching the imagined constellations drift together and apart above them. Indeed, one could almost picture a sunrise appearing in the same way, demons coalescing into to form an imitation of the sun that still lay beyond the rugged prison they currently resided in.
A few hours later, Walter and Jonathan climbed back down to their room, to attempt to squeeze in a few precious hours of sleep before their day of work tomorrow.
Of course, a sunrise did not come.