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It's been 12 hours since Kuromaku died.
That's what he assumed happened, at least. More literally, he was split. Even the clones are unaware as to what rules the cards of their origin live by; whether Kuromaku was truly gone was still a mystery, but Zontik had given up hope. The card - a physical manifestation of your soul, would logically destroy that soul it represents if you were to ruin it. His fingers glided across his own face, as if he were checking to see if he was still here. Maybe the thought was morbid, but he'd rather Kuromaku live on instead of himself. He'd never truly cherished his life. On the contrary, he found this world frightening and unfamiliar. But someone like Kuromaku thrived in this world far more than he did - or ever could.
Zontik thought back to late night in august. the night was warm and he could hear the muffled chatter of the other clones through the paper thin walls of the apartment. He had let out a sigh, curled up sitting in a corner of Fedor's room, trying to block out the noise so he could get some sleep. The only other person in the room with him was Kuromaku, who was leaning against the windowsill, a book in his hands which he seemed deeply intrigued in, reading with a serious expression and furrowed brows. Zontik stared up at him with heavy, half-lidded eyes. The noise of the others seemed to fade, the only sound was the flipping of pages, echoing around the room. Zontik tilted his head to try get a better look at the cover, trying to see what exactly had captured Kuromaku's attention. It was in a foreign language he didn't know, but by the spelling he guessed it may have been french.
"Cyrano De Bergerac" The mumble was only intended for himself, but the quiet room made even pin drops echo. Kuromaku looked up, closing his book and placing in on the windowsill, before giving Zontik a small smile and crossing his arms. Zontik, now flustered and embarrassed in disturbing his friend, looked the other way, curling up tighter. "sorry- I didn't mean to disturb you. I- well, i'm just talking out loud." He stumbled over his words, even more flustered than he was a moment ago. He felt his face getting hot, and he felt like he'd evaporate if he got any hotter.
Kuromaku just continued to smile softly, letting out a sigh. "It's a play - a french play from 1897." He pushed his glasses back up, picking the book off the ledge and walking over to Zontik. He crouched in front of him, handing the other his book. "I don't frequent in fiction. It's more-so just a test for my brain. See?" He gestured Zontik to open the book. He obliged, almost cautiously flipping the pages.
"But how can you..." Zontik mumbled, staring at the pages with a blank stare.
"Right, I don't speak french. Yet I felt drawn to it, so i'm translating it, cover to cover." Zontik stared up at him with admiration, the pounding of his heart getting louder. He'd never really seen Kuromaku as the 'cool' type, but such dedication was impressive, it reminded Zontik of why he'd always looked up the other. The card world was truly limiting him. At that moment he had the thought- 'I'd be fine going back to the card world if it meant Kuromaku got to stay here.'
He felt a smile growing on his face, handing the book back to Kuromaku, who'd decided to sit down next to Zontik. They sat together in comfortable silence for a while, knees hugged to their chests. The noise of the other clones had started to become a welcome addition. The silence was broken by Kuromaku, Who'd taken his glasses off and placed them upon his book on the floor in front of him. "Zontik, if for the benefit of those you hold close, is deception still sinful?"
Sin? Kuromaku wasn't one to believe in god in the first place. Where was this coming from? His eyes drifted to the book, and back to Kuromaku, who he had just now noticed had dark circles around his eyes. Ah, that'd be it. Zontik's smile faded, and he faced away from his friend. The pause was long. "How would you know what's best for them? How would you know it's what they want?"
Kuromaku didn't answer, seemingly just pondering the response. He mumbled something- Zontik didn't remember, before heading to bed in his tiny little futon by the door. Out of curiosity, Zontik picked up the book he'd left on the floor, flicking through and now seeing the countless annotations and notes. About a characters motives, thoughts, personality, their bonds and the way it developed the themes. He had an eye for detail, in people especially. Something Zontik never really expected of him.
Back in the present, he hadn't even realised it but he'd been brought to tears, sitting by himself in a silent, empty apartment. He was ashamed of himself. His throat was sore and his head was aching, he'd been crying on and off for hours at this point. Not just from grief, but from guilt. Of course Kuromaku would do something stupid like this, of course he'd sacrifice himself. He's just that type of person. But Zontik didn't need to be saved! in fact, he didn't want to be. He'd happily of gone instead of Kuromaku, but it seems fate was a cruel card dealer, giving Kuromaku the worst deck of the lot of them. He'd unconsciously places a hand over his mouth, trying to suppress his miserable cries. Zontik rushed to the bathroom, closing the door and letting himself breath. His breaths were quick and shallow, only further working himself up. Zontik stared at his reflection, half his face pale and grey, like it was mocking him at the loss of his dear friend, taunting him with his likeness. He wanted nothing more than to wallow in his own pity.
It was until he heard something feint, a whisper in his ear. "Calm down." It was serious and mature- but it was still his voice. But his body listened, and his breathing slowed down, returning slowly to a regular pace. "you can make it through this, and you will."
He focused once again on his reflection in the mirror, his hand grabbing at the grey chunk of hair. Really, he was lucky he didn't get something like Kuromaku's arms. He actually kind of liked it. Sure, it was a reminder, but he didn't mind thinking about his friend. Now, He had something to cherish him by.
"I knew you could do it." The voice felt clearer this time, but just like before, Zontik seemed not to notice his friends mumble. But it's ok, Kuromaku is happy, as long as he can stay by his friends' sides.