Work Text:
The sun followed its path, hiding under the horizon and letting room for the moon to rise.
Sitting on the edge of the base's rooftop was the small neighbor, whose loneliness bloomed along with the night.
Yuma used to not care much about the whole not-able-to-sleep problem, since his companion's presence comforted his thoughts and presented him with insightful battle strategies. Just something to keep his mind busy.
But the same couldn't be said now. At Replica's departure, not only did he loose his best friend, but also that always-present company that made nights even a bit less lonely.
With nothing and no one to distract him, Yuma looked at the few stars that peeked through the cloudy night sky and let his mind wander.
It had only been a couple of months since he arrived in Japan, and everything had been so different back then. He had a partner, no family, and a thin thread of hope of being able to mend his mistakes.
When that hope was crushed as well, he couldn't see anything anymore.
For all those years fighting in Calvaria, he'd always had even the smallest excuses to justify his survival. To convince himself that he had to keep on living.
He couldn't just abandon his dad's mission.
Calvaria needed him.
There might be something he can do in Japan.
Surely someone in Border knows how to help him.
That night, not unlike the present one, Yuma found himself thinking back on disobedience, ash statues and inexplicable smiles. Although there was one main difference between these two nights: now, he had lost his partner, had a newfound family, and no hope of being able to mend his mistakes.
It still hurt, the what-ifs and different scenarios that played in his head, yelling at him for not listening to his father.
But, somehow, even when he was all alone on the rooftop, he knew his family was right beside him, ready to support him and lend their comforting arms to embrace him in his lowest moments.
After all these years,
he wasn't alone anymore.