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Shooting stars are rare in Japan.
Not even the shooting variety; even seeing a twinkle in the sky at night is nigh impossible because of all the city lights that blot out nature's own light with man's.
"Don't you think," Noriaki starts one day, "it's sad that we can't see the natural stars anymore, Rohan?"
They're sitting at a cafe, cups of coffee hot and steaming in front of them sitting nice and pretty on their clean white saucers, sketchbooks open and pencil laid flat on their blank pages. Rohan's paper has a rough sketch of the seat that holds their bags, and Noriaki's open page has absolutely nothing.
Rohan lays down the rough, thick pencil in his fingers and takes a sip of espresso. It's only then he says thoughtfully, "Do you think the cost of seeing the stars at night is enough to compensate for the technology we have in this day and age, Noriaki?"
He taps the screen of his smartphone, flashing a sketch Koichi made of Pink Dark and the time in big white numbers. "Imagine this in Morioh, Noriaki. Don't you think it would have been so much easier?"
"It's a far cry from what you had over there," Noriaki muses, thinking about what a rural town in 1999 would have looked like. "I think Tokyo was a little ahead. We had flip phones, at least, or a little bit later."
He hesitantly takes a sip from his own cup, letting the liquid cool at his lips before they wash over his tongue. It's rich and bitter.
"Well," Rohan continues conversationally, as if no break ever happened, "you'll get to see the stars tonight, Noriaki. Remember? There's a shooting star passing Japan tonight. Not a comet I think, but still something you mentioned you wanted to see, right?"
"You remembered," Noriaki murmurs under his breath. No one else did, not even Jotaro and Polnareff- not that he doesn't understand, of course, what with Jotaro being busy with his thesis and Polnareff dealing with matters in Italy with Avdol, plus the fact he never really talks about this kind of stuff with them, choosing to be quieter and more withdrawn.
Rohan raises an eyebrow. "Of course I did," he says easily, like it's the most simple thing in the world to do. "What sort of friend- what sort of partner would I be if I didn't remember the things you wanted to do with me?"
Noriaki's not a sentimental person.
His eyes are a little warm as he says, choking a little, "Of course you think like that."
"Well, someone has to think around here," Rohan says dismissively. He points his fork at Noriaki. "Clearly, you're not, so I have to do all the brainy shit."
"Like how you cover your hairline with that spiky hairpiece?" Noriaki shoots back, falling into the familiar rhythm of insult, insult, argument, that always follows Rohan around.
They continue like that all the way until the sky goes dark.
Later, when Noriaki gazes upon a star streaking through the sky, he makes a wish.
Can Rohan live like how he is forever, star?
The trailing piece of gold falling through the heavens seems to get just a little bit brighter.
Then it falls silent, and his fingers tap Rohan's palm, and without a single word-
-their fingers curl around each other, just like how soft gold and blue hugged the falling star.