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The dusty night sky is painted with stars of rebirth. No one questions the mist that gently passes through. There's never been a doubt about rebirth, because why would you, when you've been blessed with a feeling anew? Whispers of a blooming utopia-- that this land is, and forever would be.
From the moment he's opened his eyes and henceforth,
That had been Ukyo's life.
"Isn't it nice to entertain that perhaps, the elders plowed their subterfuge into our motherlands neatly? Sowing enough make-beliefs so all we can reap are infertile minds."
He remembers it clearly, the filtered mirrors chipping away as he takes another step. Ringing in his ears are their wails, and crumbled in his feet are remnants of a lost reality.
Regardless of the Pirate being his friend, perhaps he shouldn't have answered his request if all he's left is strokes of a stained canvas. The texture is icky, and nothing feels grounding.
The consequences are too many; one of them is to lie against the wooden planks of their ship, and at the very least, it's useless as an aid. Another is facing the origin of the deceit in the night sky, while burdened with thoughts of tell-tales of legends unknown and fragments of a lost life.
The greatest one comes in the form of a mermaid of cunning smiles and playful smirks, their guide with the heart of a sphynx. It's told that millions of dragons and thousands of seas are needed to find him, yet here they are, all because of recognition from a past life.
"Ukyo-chan~"
From the moment he appeared to be accidentally caught by their fishing net, all what he's spoken of are well-curved, flowing with the mingles of tricksy acts and disturbing truths. He's more fitted to be a sly fox with nine tails rather than being a beauty of the sea.
Peace doesn't harmonise with the name of Asagiri Gen.
Ukyo turns his gaze on him and blinks his tears away. Considering that Gen's tail is flapping about and wetting the planks, he doesn't seem to be bothered by the loss of water. "Gen? Why are you out of your tub?"
He pouts. "My, my. Everyone is set on deeming me as a pet goldfish. How mean~" One of the legends taught is to fear the lullabies that strain the seas blessed by the heavens; for beauty comes with an apple and a snake. Temptation will be one's downfall.
The legends continue to prove themselves wrong. There's nothing fearful from a mermaid prancing about, always doing his best to slide over the wooden planks, and complaining about their daily catches (something about how his brethren are being consumed is deeply hurting him).
Aren't you already a pet goldfish though? Ukyo's amused as Gen tries to further slide towards him, but to no avail. He entertains the thought of telling him, but what instead comes out is worry. Because what kind of mermaid willingly comes out of water?
"You're going to dry out here. Do you remember what happened last time?" His mind flitted over fragments of memories of a hanging, dried out fish in the edges of their ship. Belatedly, he realizes that if Gen was here, it would've also meant that his tub was spilled over again.
Gen widens his eyes, attempting to act adorable. "Something happened last time? Not that I know of, unfortunately," When he succeeds at approaching him, he flaps his tail to wring out water and into Ukyo, who gave him a look before sitting up.
"Well, I'm here to bother my personal carriage if you're really wondering." He gives a wink before re-arranging himself to imitate a sitting position. "It's boring to be put in a tub just because I knocked off Senkuu-chan's vials yesterday."
Have a pair of long ears and fluffy, in-tune ears, and you're set to have danger trail behind you. If one's ultimate fate is to be hunted, ignorance never dangles with bliss. Perhaps everyone will frown at his recklessness, of how heedless he is that his career path took a roundabout turn from a small cafe to a pirate-- a criminal; one that's pretty much occupied with a pet goldfish prancing about.
"I'm not a personal carriage," Despite his pouty mutter, he shows his palms as an offer to carry him back into his penalty of a tub. "I think it would've been better if you asked somebody to call me instead."
"Ever the thoughtful Ukyo-chan, but there's no need to worry, afterall--" Gen has always been full of charming, wide smiles accompanied by honeyed words and meticulous hands, but there seems to be a difference tonight. There's no place for a dainty, genuine smile to bask in the lie of the moonlight, yet there it goes along with the sleight of hand.
A bracelet embellished with fur and enriched with dancing fishes amongst the stars they've come to distrust, as well as three morning glories appeared in the palm of his hand. Most likely flicked into existence from the depths of his kimono. "Ta-dah~"
Ah.
There's nothing more gratifying when shadows of worries show itself in the form of lost rays of sunlight. He'd scurry with hasty lies later on-- there's no doubt, since he's Gen after all; who has long since introduced himself as one who lurks in the corners of the mind for little scuffles here and there.
He didn't come to bother me .
"It's everywhere, Ukyo-chan. The crack of their lies splinter our skins dry open," He ties the bracelet snug around his wrist, and he's soon besprinkled in flakes of purple that once dyed the entirety of his tail. "But there's never been a problem about admiring the stars while continuing to strive."
He came to cheer me up.
While Ukyo can hide a smile, he can't hide the flares of warmth and fondness nor the beaming gratitude in his heart. "That's somehow comforting then. I'm glad," He turns his gaze back at the night sky. "Is this planned, Gen?"
"Planned? I don't do such things. If there's any, my only plan would be how to get you to teach me how to walk," Gen stretches his legs, taking an interest in wiggling his toes. The yellow kimono isn't that of much length, nor help, to cover the mark of his spell--a spiraling indigo tattoo that drapes over the mid of his thighs and a little past the knee.
Ukyo stands up, holding his hand out. "You've never taken the spell before?" Gen is light as a feather, so when he pulls him up, it comes with a small tumble to his chest and then a hand on the said mermaid's waist to balance him.
"Our little genius made it for me," He eyes the bracelet with affection before gently pushing himself away from his chest, his hands tucking themselves away into Ukyo's fingers, interlocking them. He looks into his eyes, hot and dramatic. "But here's the problem: my legs are failing me."
"Years of inexperience are failing you," Ukyo suggests, softly with underlying sympathy. "I'm sure you can do it in days." An encouragement, followed by a squeeze of his hands. Ukyo's personality has always been best suited for times of trying.
And when he does his specialty best, it's always been the soft embers of emerald green that does the deed. In one's eyes are the soul; and in one's eyes bear the honesty of stories untold.
Tonight, he discovers that sapphires aren't cold, and in there, lingers concealed uncertainty. Under the moonlight, the pastel skies revel in the sapphire blue. Gen's eyes widen, startled by the act of sincerity and sudden proximity, his cheeks dusted in tiny red blossoms.
Tonight, he discovers there's halcyon in the intertwining fates of galaxies behind their backs; even more so with his beauty to soothe him in the midst of the void.
Ukyo then snaps out after experiencing flashbacks of Gen constantly wiggling in his arms and often turning his face to the opposite side. He backs away. "I'm sorry. I got too…"
Once he notices Gen starts trembling, legs threatening to collapse, he trails off, hands immediately latching to the back of his arms as support.
Did I make him too uncomfortable?
Guilt weighs a heavy ton.
"Are you okay?"
"I feel like a newborn baby, Ukyo-chan. I am not okay." Just like that, guilt withers down and into relief, however incomplete. He could see Gen rebuilding his mask while flitting between his embarrassment earlier and his current predicament. His legs seem to be too weak for now.
"Why don't we just get back then? Don't strain yourself too much," He guides him to sit down, only for him to end up half in his lap and half out.
It dates a few years back-- an unusual melody followed by an even more unusual catch-- back when only he and Ryusui stood as generals of this ship. It's no doubt he'd be put in his custody, but he never had the thought to treat him as mere property.
And even as Gen proved himself trustworthy, they still find themselves dancing to the same beat of the past; of the schedules and routines embalmed.
"To the cramped tub? Please no." Gen turns his back on him whilst adjusting into a more comfortable position. It seems that he's fine with proximity as long as they're not facing. By the sound of his voice, he's probably pouting. "I wanted to walk."
You never wanted to before.
You do the things you usually never do,
When you act with your words.
Creatures of the sea are skillful at stringing and mending words for they are very powerful weapons; ones that skid and cut veins and arteries. Gen's words, however, are used in odd ways; where dust turns into stars, where ice is set ablaze.
And it's really no secret that Gen prefers doing the former more, however hard he attempts to hide it from their view.
"Gen," Ukyo calls with a quiet huff when the said man rests his back against his chest, pushing all his weight onto him. He starts playing with the white strands of his hair. "While I appreciate you trying to cheer me up, you really don't need to. I'm fine."
There's silence for a little while.
In the calmness of the sea are smeared reflections of the ivory glint from the full moon. In the tranquil of nights like this, they coil like worms, disturbed by muddled thoughts of their punishment awaiting at the very end of dawn.
When fragments of a lost life are nigh, it only marks the ruination of the current one.
The more he sets sail, the more his whole life feels like a lie.
"Hey, Ukyo-chan, do you want to know why I want to walk?" Bits of water droplets appeared in Gen's hand, and he started to play with them; forming objects to go with his story. "I used to map the uneven ground with bare feet. Back then, nights like these are long, but the days were even longer."
The droplets then swirl akin to a storm before forming into little figures. "When thousands of years have robbed you of everything, a reminder beneath your feet always helps."
There's a fleeting, longing smile in Gen's face as he re-tells the story of a stone world. The water forms, manifesting the times of the lost, each reflection bringing misty fragments.
"It's sad that I can't remember," It's what frustrates him the most; shards pricking, yet never fully showing themselves--only to be crumbled down in dust in their next meeting. "But does it end in a good way?"
Gen stays still.
"Maybe~ Unfortunately, we only have to find out for ourselves. Why are we reincarnated to live happy lives?" Wobbly stars curve in the palm of his hands with random plops of little explosions, as if mourning for each and everyone's desolation in exchange for their individual happiness.
This has always been their second chance.
Magic reflects the emotions of their practitioners after all.
"The subterfuge they have plowed is not only for them, but us as well. When there's infertility, only peace exists. An everlasting utopia, if you will."
What's left of their lamps burn addled reflection in the discarded water.
"If that were the case then, the times-" Ukyo slowly admits, fingers curling against the wooden planks. "... when I want to go back-- can be it acceptable enough?" Back to the times of misinformation and mere tales as education, when frail eyes weren't bloodstained, and when only the surviving present time matters--
When supposed tranquil nights submerge and asphyxiate you; when you were comforted with lies and more lies, and they told you to believe in the power of the heavens-- to pray so all would disappear--
Do you really want to go back?
"Sometimes I can remember, sometimes I can't. Oftentimes I miss them, so I hated them." After years of keeping this in, he doesn't know why he's letting it out on Gen of all people. He must look pathetic. "I don't know, really."
He lets out a forlorn sigh before leaning back, his arms behind acting as support. He sounds stupid, he knows. While he was fine with silence after their talk, it's making him anxious as well.
He's quickly brought back by Gen bumping his back onto his chest, leaning once again. "That's something no one can be blamed for," He folds his feet, trying to find another comfortable position; his hair tickling Ukyo's cheek. "If it hurts, then it's no use to pretend it doesn't." He snuggles further into him-- as if inviting him to do something--
Ah.
Perhaps he shouldn't have come with Ryusui all those years ago; when the consequences consist of the wooden planks becoming his solid ground against a once bleak reality, and when the legends-- the passage that come from the elders-- remain proving themselves wrong.
But can he really call them a consequence when he has his hold on a certainty?
When the dusty night sky is finally, truly painted with the stars of rebirth--
When they melt down into tears,
While buried in hidden galaxies, they all mourn.