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Harlock stepped into his quarters and raised a surprised eyebrow. Warrius Zero was bundled deep into the bedsheets, half-asleep.
- You’re starting to make yourself at home on my ship, Zero.
- Hmph. Your bed is more comfortable than mine. And… I’ve always found it to be warm and welcoming.
Harlock smirked, took off his belts, cape, boots and gloves, and slipped beneath the sheets beside him. He meant to pull Zero closer without thinking, but something felt off. Zero’s brow was more furrowed than usual, his gaze distant, empty. He sighed heavily, as if the weight of the universe was on his shoulders.
- Zero… you ok? It’s not like you to show up in my bed like that. Something bothering you?
Zero exhaled slowly, closed his eyes and buried his face against Harlock’s chest.
- …I’m so tired. Tired of fighting. For a world that just… doesn’t care.
Harlock brushed his nose through Warrius’ hair. He knew the feeling all too well. Sacrificing lives, negotiating fragile truces, fighting wars that never truly ended… Putting everything at stake, only to watch humanity stumble blindly forward, eager to repeat the same mistakes. Architects of their own demise.
- I know. I’m tired, too.
He lifted Zero’s chin gently, just enough to press a soft kiss to his lips.
- But even if this planet has no future… there are things still worth protecting.
It would be so much easier to stop. To let humanity continue down its miserable path to extinction. What difference could a single man make against something so immense? Did they even matter? It was better not to think about it for too long.
It wasn’t easy staying true to oneself. Caring, even when it hurt. Some days were heavier than others, and on nights like this, hiding in the bed of your enemy was an acceptable way to endure them. Especially when that enemy was the only one who truly understood. Warrius wrapped his arms around Harlock’s waist and cuddled in his warmth.
Yes. Some things were still worth fighting for.