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I stepped out of the rush and clatter of Sinostra’s casino and into the cool silver silence of a desert night. Nothing moved but the wind, stirring the sand into little ripples, and it drew me with it.
I didn't go far. A few hundred meters, maybe, until I found a low tumble of stones that I could sit on and look out across the desert, letting the emptiness settle into my bones, content to let the wind wash over and through me until my head went light and hollow. When a rangy, long-limbed shadow appeared to crouch beside me, I barely moved.
“Heyyyyy kitty-cat.” Taiga’s voice was softer and more lucid than I'd ever heard it. He settled next to me and threw a casual arm over my shoulders. I tensed, bracing myself for whatever cruelty or madness held him in its grip tonight, but he just tucked me into his side and joined me in staring out over the desert.
When he finally speaks, it’s almost lost in the soft sighing of the wind and sand.
“It’s all going to burn. You and us and all the pretty little castles in the clouds, turning and burning and falling down...” He laughs, not his usual raucous cackle, but something that feels like it’s been rubbed thin and soft but whatever he sees with those poison-addled eyes of his. I stiffen and start to pull away, but he pulls me back, holding my head against his shoulder with one big hand. His rings catch in my hair as he strokes it, strangely gentle.
“Not your fault kitty-cat. Nobody’s fault. You got dealt a shitty hand.”
“Yeah.” I let my head fall against his collarbone. “What do you mean, though? It’ll just be back to normal, for you guys, right?”
“Hmm.” He keeps running his fingers through my hair. “Can’t tell, it doesn’t want me to. Flowers and blood and fire, and you– not my kitty-cat anymore though, are you? One of those things, the hungry flower things from that castle.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” There’s a warm pressure on the top of my head for a moment, like maybe the madman pressed his lips there for a moment. We’re quiet again. It lies between us; heavy, silent, secret. I can feel the weight of what he sees pulling at us both.
The moon starts to slip away, silver sifting to shadows, and the wind takes on a sharper edge. I shiver as it slides across my skin, and Taiga’s arm tightens around me, surrounding me with the sharp, warm smoky scent of his skin.
“It’s getting cold. I should go home.”
“Home.” He shrugs. “Hey, I always meant to ask you something.”
I turn to look up at him, and I can see the madness trickling back into his eyes, his smile taking on that ragged edge that looks almost like pain. He cups my cheek, thumb stroking the curve of my eyebrow.
“Living in that place– you ever feel like you’re just haunting your own funeral? Since it’s a church and all.”
“I’ve never thought about it.”
“Heh, thought not.” He pulls away, shoving his hands into his pockets, and I can feel the change when he slips away again, taking away Taiga and just leaving the stigma and its endless hunger. He starts back towards the casino, but his bitter laugh drifts back to me.
“Hell of a thing, just sitting around waiting to die.”
He disappears into the night, and his words settle into my bones, turning into something different. Heavy, sacred, silent.