Written 2025-01-08
> warning !! this text is UNFINISHED! quality may suffer, changes may be made.
Samurai and Insomniac sat by the lake next to the cherry blossom. It's rare to find such a natural sector in the now–industrialised Middlesea, but the outskirts of it—especially near the shore—promise wonderful views that bring him back to his childhood. They both look 'tward the falling leaves and how they glisten in the sunset's light shining from behind. Their legs dangling in the pond's water, they turn to face up to the tree once more with ever-so soft movements. "...It's nice, no?"
"So it is..." then said Insomniac, laying back on the rough stone barriers they sat on. The pauses are palpable, until he, brushing his hair back and sweeping his patches, continues: "It reminds me of home." Samurai turned to face him. "Home..." he muttered under his breath. He was reminded, and so was his camarade, whom he loved so endearingly. He leaned further closer into him and brought him into his embrace as he felt Insomniac's tears form—rapid, fleeting sensations at the memories of his past life whelmed him—and run down his eyes. But he sobbed nary. The only sound that the world was allowed to hear from him was how the wind blew around his body. His world—Samurai—would be the only one to understand.