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gokuraku district had always been busy in the evenings, and even more so into the darkest hours of the night. the noise of those crowded streets always managed to seep into yoru's room. that was one of the first things he noticed when yomi first gave him the keys to this apartment. he could close the window and pull the curtains and bury himself under every blanket and pillow he had, but those faint murmurs always crept their way in. jin liked being able to melt into the crowd on his night-time walks, and the constant foot traffic meant an endless stream of potential food sources, but something about it bothered yoru. it was persistent enough to really get on his nerves, but he couldn't exactly strangle sound waves. ear plugs didn't seem to be much help either, so all yoru could do was lie on the firm mattress and wait for sleep to come.
the frustrating thing about sleep was that it never quite arrived on time, always leaving yoru waiting for that moment where his eyes would shut without force and all the noise would fade away and he could just rest. relaxing wasn't as easy for him as it was for jin, so the moments before that sweet loss of consciousness always held this strange tension. he'd listen to the unsteady sound of his own breathing, to the drunken people cackling as they stumbled out of that bar down the street, to the college kids chattering, to the mom calling for her children, to that hitch in his inhale.
most of the time, he'd just roll away from the window and continue to quietly wait for sleep. occasionally, however, he would pull the sheets away from his face and slowly rise to his feet, finding himself strangely drawn to that same window that was pissing him off. he'd open it wide and the crisp air would brush his face as he leaned out. jin would probably be fascinated by the passersby, but yoru would spend nights like these looking at the stars. they weren't the most visible from the light polluted city, but yoru had never known a view outside of the gokuraku district, so it couldn't bother him much.
it always brought back hazy memories of jin and tao doing something similar as children, memories that weren't yoru's but weren't not yoru's either, memories that yoru had to push away to really enjoy it. he'd even managed to memorise a handful of constellations after a few years. cassiopeia, pegasus, aquillus, ophiuchus. ophiuchus was his favorite. there was something about it that he couldn't quite name, but always chalked up to coolness. the shape was pretty cool, right? he'd spend countless summer nights staring up at it until it dissolved into the morning sky, and he'd feel a little disappointed when that sweltering season melted away and took ophiuchus with it, leaving yoru to look at the less-cool constellations through the winter. the disappointment was fleeting, at least. less-cool constellations were still cool, and yoru was good at dealing with less-than-perfection. he wasn't jin, after all. yoru was less childish, more calculated, less meek, more capable, less weak, more suited to protect them both, and more into stars.
he wasn't that into stars, though, so after a few hours of aimlessly craning his neck out of the window, yoru would get bored, and his eyelids would begin to droop, so he'd toss himself back onto the bed. he'd pass out soon after, and jin would wake up late the next morning wondering why he felt like got hit like a truck.