Chapter Text
Sun - Sun
Sun - Dark Sun
The cold feeling woke Sun up. There should have been someone beside him, but now it was just an empty cushion. The wind blew against the curtain, flickering white in the night with the faint light of the tiny stars of the sea and water, of the rolling waves and the dawn.
A shadow of sunlight flashed beside the window, looking too close yet so far away. The person's shoulders trembled slightly, as if they wanted to do something crazy, as if their body was here but their soul had already wandered somewhere.
As if they were about to disappear.
"Can't sleep again, Sun?"
He didn't even get out of bed, too familiar with himself to know that even his sleepy, tired voice was enough to wake them from their daydreams.
There was a brief screech, and the buttercup-colored animatronic with pearly eyes turned, totally startled, looking back at him with a vague, almost averted gaze.
“What’s wrong?”
Sun tilted his head. The darkness had made Sun’s eyes still not adjusted, but he could still see clearly the way they hadn’t answered yet, with their hands clasped roughly together, with the timid and anxious look as if what they were about to say would anger Sun.
“I want to go home.”
Their voices echoed in the quiet space, full of trembling fear and determination. The darkness fell on their faces, making those silver eyes glow, avoiding Sun’s gaze.
Only the steady ticking of the clock filled the room.
It was really a surprise, ah, actually no… Technically, Sun had known this would come sooner or later.
Looking at them, as alert as a newborn deer, it made Sun’s sadistic side rise, making him wonder what would happen if he just said no.
Would that little heart break in two?
Or would they persist in trying to escape?
But Sun had played this game long enough to know that sometimes a soft touch was much worse than being tortured day after day.
“Okay, you can go.”
Sun yawned. His eyes rolled up to the ceiling with a dull gaze, nothing but endless clouds.
He had specially designed this room, so that every time he woke up, the sensor would automatically change this space to a sunny place.
Technically, they both have rooms, but Sun (this Sun, his Sun, Nexus's Sun) was too scared, and the sight of them screaming and crawling to his door night after night was very pathetic and sad.
So, about three days a week, he would voluntarily bring his pillow to sleep with them.
They always turned away, stiff and alert like a lamb about to be slaughtered, but when they slept they moved closer to him, clinging to him with a feeling almost as desperate as ghosts wanting to feel a little warmth on the metal skin of the living.
It was pathetic, Sun thought one night as he played with their rays, seeing their tears soaking his fingers, dripping onto the pillow, like pearls forming on Sun's face.
They no longer talk in their sleep… but sometimes...
"I'm sorry Moon! I'm sorry Moon!! Please forgive me…"
The person crying in the dark looked too familiar to Sun's taste, with a worried despair, and a loneliness so painful it was suffocating, it could be felt in the air.
... They cried so silently, dreadfully, always huddled together in a fetal position, and yet, remembering nothing in the morning.
"What?--- Really??!"
"You want to go, then go. I don’t want to force you to stay here forever. You can go back to your old home, if you want. Though…”
Sun stood lazily, pulled the sheet over himself, and stepped out. The fine silk brushed his arms, hugging Sun’s calves like a butterfly kiss. The wind blew past Sun’s heels, the scent of the sea penetrating his senses as he drew closer to Sun.
They were hesitant, nervous, frozen like newborn fawns, as if unsure of what he intended to do next.
He could strangle them or push them into the sea, and they would still let him, too freeze to be able to do anything.
This confused compliance, he would call it cute if it weren’t the leftovers of Moon and Nexus.
Sun didn’t like other people putting their hands on his things, even if they were in the past.
And Sun didn’t want those reminders to be washed away, floating like mud, dirtying what he had cleaned up. To remember this was the way he used to be.
They stood side by side, too close, too close. Red like a storm, like the destruction of dawn swirling into cold, lost white, like nothingness and the crack of an empty vase.
There was the clanging of bells, the ruffles touching. Sun’s forehead pressed against theirs, pinning them against the window frame, blocking any escape they could think of.
“Tell me, is it still your home? Is someone waiting for you there? That would be the question… don’t you think?” Sun smiled, he touched their fingertips, humming to the knuckles and the crimson ribbon that lay neatly in Sun’s hand.
“…”
“Maybe Lunar… Or Earth… They might be so desperate to forgive you, to want you back, to make things right again.”
“But Sun, do you think you can do that?”
“With the Moon’s blood still so fresh on your hands?”
There was no response. As always, they wished for something in return but were too cowardly, too pitiful to dare to do it themselves.
Even now, when they were uncomfortable with the way he played with the sunbeams above their heads, they did nothing, even leaned closer, too hungry for the continuity that only he could provide.
Pulling their hands up, Sun pressed his lips gently to their wrists, both comforting and commanding, to add another chain around Sun’s neck.
“It’s okay, if that’s what you want,” Sun whispered. “Just know, you’ll always have a place here, with me when they leave you again.”
“I trust you’ll make the right decision.”
His shawl was draped over Sun’s shoulders. The wind blew, carrying the scent of sunlight, and the waves surged. A melody hummed along the corridor as he walked…
“Dont make me disappointed.”