the stars came falling

They stood for a while looking up at the stars, and it was strange how comfortable the silence between them was. It always had been, of course, but there was nothing else comfortable about the situation. It was only after the butterfly had fully faded away, leaving them under only the light of the moon, that Kururu noticed that Saburo was shaking.

"Ku ku ku!" It was a laugh, but with no amusement in it. "Sit down."

They'd half expected Saburo to sit on the sand, and honestly half expected him to just collapse onto it. Instead he walked, a bit unsteadily, over to one of the broken stone kanji of the ruins he had formed himself that night. Heart it proclaimed, and Kururu noticed that dispassionately as they followed after to join him where he sat.

Saburo was looking down at the sand, still quiet; his trembling had calmed but his hands gripped the edge of the stone so tightly that his fingertips were noticeably white even in the low light. Kururu noticed a small smear of red, too, and frowned.

"You're bleeding."

"Hmm?" After a moment, Saburo's grip relaxed, and he lifted his hand up to blink at it. There were a few cuts on his fingers, where they weren't protected by his gloves, though they didn't look very deep. "Must have been when the pen broke..."

Kururu fought back a wince, turned it into a scowl instead. "Why did you do that?"

Saburo smiled; when he looked back down it was all that Kururu could see of his expression, his hair in his eyes. Like before, when they'd fought -- when Saburo had turned up the arrogant, self-centered act and pushed them away. It had been so easy to believe him, even if Kururu hadn't been able to help the nagging feeling that something had been off.

They'd been right, of course. They (usually) always was. Maybe especially about this boy, who they understood... shockingly well.

"Sorry. I couldn't really get out of it. As soon as I noticed the Quietian, apparently that volunteered me, and you know if I hadn't agreed..."

It would have been a forfeit and Pekopon immediately would have lost and been doomed, yes, but Kururu snapped, "That's not what I meant. Why did you try to do this alone?"

Saburo was quiet for a moment. "...You scared me, you know? Doing what you did just now. It's pretty selfish, but I wanted to avoid that. I didn't want you to feel like that either; I thought it might be easier for both of us..."

"You really thought that could have been easy?"

Saburo's laugh was a shaky sound. "It wasn't easy," he agreed. "Sorry, Kururu. Sorry..."

"Stop apologizing, all right?" Kururu couldn't handle the way his voice cracked on that last 'sorry'. Saburo was already swiping at his eyes; if Kururu had to see him really cry... well, they didn't have the slightest clue how to handle that right now, frankly. Their own eyes stung, and that and the remnants of fear in their chest -- fear for another person! -- made them angry, and yet any desire to be harsh with the boy had also faded.

"I'm glad you were here," Saburo said, and turned slightly where he sat, towards Kururu. He reached out the way he usually did to lift Kururu up to his shoulders or head, but just pulled them into his lap, to his chest, and almost curled around them. "Don't risk yourself for me like that, okay? I don't know what I'd do..."

He trailed off, and Kururu was struck with the certainty, suddenly: They would do it again. Yes, they would. Any time. They had in that moment been certain they was in time, had felt a flood of triumph as they'd maneuvered the robot between Saburo and the blast, leaping free of it and tossing him the pen, so they hadn't really thought of it as putting their life on the line in so many words. But with Saburo framing it that way now, and almost begging them not to do it again?

They would. And that wasn't just them being a difficult jerk. That was them... feeling like they...

"Too bad," they said, muffled a bit against Saburo's shirt. Because I don't know what I'd do either. "Don't get yourself into trouble again and I won't have to, Saburo."

Saburo's laugh was still shaky, but a little stronger, a little brighter. "You're the worst, Kururu."

"Ku ku... I know."