Chapter Text
The war rages on between the enemies and the rest of Europe and all those who witness it can say that it is a real walking massacre. Who started it doesn't matter anymore and the hope of an end is fading for all those who have survived so far. Winter in this region is harsher than anywhere else and the lack of supplies is a harsh reality, even in this abandoned village. The battle at this particular rallying point had begun 10 months ago, with the Allies fighting to the death, preventing the enemy from capturing this strategic battle point in the hope that reinforcements would one day turn the tide in their favor.
It was in this village, abandoned by civilians for a long time, where a 23-year-old black-haired man had been sent in the early morning. Guren Ichinose was a journalist. Despite his young age, he had already traveled all over and published countless articles for local newspapers. That was before the war started, 4 years ago. Now he was still traveling but was forced to become a battlefield reporter 'for the greater good'. No lie, he didn't feel lucky at all to be here, in the center of one of the most dangerous battles in central Europe. His job was to report on the progress of the war at this point, rumors had been circulating about a step towards a near victory for the allies.
Honestly, he felt very lucky at first. Unlike many others, he hadn't been drafted into the army out of obligation. Now, his change in position sucked. Thinking about soldiers dying every second riddled with bullets, shredded by mines or crushed by debris, Guren felt how his heart sank to the bottom of his stomach because he would now share the same fear as them. That kind of thought shouldn't have crossed his mind, Guren wanted to turn away and run, honestly.
Clutching his bag tightly over his shoulder, he crossed the empty street, his footsteps crunching through the thin layer of snow that had cloaked the ground. No one greeted him, and Guren tried to swallow his unease by tightening the collar of his heavy wool coat. When he crossed the path of a soldier, the latter wouldn't even think of looking at him. Like two totally different worlds trying to meet.
Guren had to report his arrival as soon as the convoy dropped him off here. Nevertheless, needing to know his destination, Guren asked a soldier on guard to show him where he should go. The man did not deign to give him a glance, simply pointing a finger in one direction and the jet-haired head nodded politely before heading towards the designated building. He eventually reached an old, partially destroyed city hall. The roof, however, still seemed unscathed, offering protection from the weather. He knocked on the door and waited until a muffled but cold voice called him in. Entering, a heavy silence filled the room, where a dark-haired man watched him with a dangerous red gaze, sitting upright behind an old, long wooden table. Guren felt transfixed, the air rushing out of his lungs.
"I-Ichinose Guren, reporter of the Last Moon Newspaper. I have been asked to introduce myself as soon as-" Guren began, but his voice dropped abruptly as the man rose from his stool, noisily scraping the chair across the floor.
"Tsk, another burden..." The man said coldly as he put his black beret, decorated with a golden band, on his head. He passed by Guren, the younger man flinched as the man spoke again, curtly.
“Shinya, take care of this case. I’m off.”
“Yes, General Lieutenant Hiiragi.” A voice caught Guren attention as the Lieutenant left the room. Inspecting the place, Guren’s glance met the frame of a white-haired soldier, which slowly left the corner where he had been standing until now. The man, wearing a confident smile contradicting the obvious tiredness shown by deep dark circles, held out his hand, and Guren, captivated by this strange character, hesitated before shaking the palm he was given.
“I’m Major General Shinya Hiiragi. Pleased to meet you in this, how should I say, awkward situation, mister Ichinose.” The soldier, Shinya, said peacefully but Guren could determine a hint of sarcasm behind those words.
“Guren is fine and, truth must be said, I would rather be in my office in the capital as …”
“Here with me?” The man chuckled, wearing a shit-eating grin. “My my, should I feel offended because I’m risking my life every day for people like you?”
“Sor-” Guren started, taking his hand back and slipping it back into his pocket, embarrassed and guilty like a child who had just stolen a lollipop.
“Don’t! War is stupid and steals away the loved one.” Shinya said as he held his gaze without blinking. In spite of the firmness of his derisive smile that he wore which particularly intrigued Guren, the journalist was however convinced of having seen something trembling in his glance as for his evocation. But he didn't know him and there was room for doubt, Guren had surely been mistaken.
Feeling stupid, the journalist had nothing to answer so he stay silent, both now were just standing there, watching cautionary at each other. Shinya was taller than him and wearing the standard black and red detailed uniform, decorated with a lot of metal insights, each one with its own meaning. Simple black pants, black boots, and a pair of white gloves completed the whole.
Trying to figure out how old the man could be, Guren must admit how his face wasn’t suited for a soldier. As if any face was suited for a battlefield and, putting aside the hint of tiredness, the Major General had somewhat Guren couldn’t pinpoint out yet. Shinya’s half-long white hair was messed around his pale face and his dull blue eyes were like forgotten blue topazes.
“So, Gu~ren” Shinya chirped his name and Guren flinched. He felt like he had been caught staring but also, the sound of the soldier’s voice had just made was just annoying. “Want me to show you around?”
Guren arched an eyebrow but only nodded. Internally, he laughed at the strangeness of the situation as the Major General just invited him to show him around. They were in the middle of the war and outside, the weather was cold as hell, ready for a sightseeing tour.
Stepping outside in the cold, the sound of cracking snow echoed through the empty street again, Guren looked around but there wasn’t anything to catch his eyes. It was winter and it was war, what should he expect to see while he was walking next to the taller one? They met one or two soldier groups. The men only salute as they passed by before they returned to what they were doing, glancing rudely at Guren by the way. Plagued by the silence, Guren opened his mouth as he dared to glance at Shinya, who immediately grinned as he caught his glare.
“It’s quite calm, if I may say.” Feeling like his voice was echoing through the air, Guren shivered. It was indeed calm, too calm this morning.
“Very obvious, mister journalist,” The soldier said, the grin hadn’t quit his lips since they left the makeshift office. “But indeed, we could call it a break since spies have confirmed to us that the enemy is waiting for new supply. Troops are actually working to intercept their supply, though. Unfortunately, we're also in need of supply. Now we just refresh our men, treat our wounded and plan our next operations on the battlefield.”
"How many men are stationed here at the moment?" Guren asked in a totally neutral voice. He observed Shinya lifting a finger to his lips, lightly tipping them like he was inwardly counting his troops.
"240 actually. Plus 85 at the northern district and additionally 102 at the east bridge. There are also 58 mounted soldiers waiting at the west border with their horses and a médical crew." Shinya chuckled. "So many mouths to feed under my command!"
Mentally taking notes and Guren was quick to react as the information flowed into his ears, the black haired stopped in his tracks. He felt curious about how easily the other one just blurted out information.
“I’m a reporter and my job is to share news from the front. But to hear you speak so openly, who doesn't tell you that I could be an undercover spy?” Guren said dryly and watched how Shinya stopped walking too and turned around to face him, his eyes first open wide in surprise before his expression abruptly changed. He seemed slightly amused, his blue eyes now half closed and lips slyly curved upwards. Taken aback, the black haired felt annoyed as Shinya started to laugh. It was strange but mesmerizing at once.
“Are you?” He simply asked.
“What?”
“Are you a spy?” Shinya moved closer to him, Guren felt his lungs missing for air again as he watched him coming closer. The crackling snow made him shiver, but the journalist just snorted, trying to keep his composure.
“Why the hell should I answer?”
“Would you?"
"Forget it!"
"My my, Gu~ren-"
"Don't ‘my my’ me, we barely know each other!"
"I know. Besides, you're not a spy."
Still smiling, the Major General turned around and resumed walking, leaving Guren with a confused expression right behind.
“I haven’t sai-”
“You don’t need to, you’re not a liar.”
“Tsk…” He felt something tickling dangerously deep in his guts, watching the man walking away. Guren persuaded himself that they wouldn’t tag along. The guy was able to make his hair stand on end just with his dumb grin.
“Now come, stupid Guren. You’re cold.” Shinya chirped happily, visibly delighted by the company he could easily tease. But Guren had to admit, even if it was already daylight, he was freezing to death and hunger started to linger in his stomach. Shinya had easily read through him and without further exchange, he followed the white-haired man into an old countryside farmhouse.
Not being a soldier was not easy for his job, when Guren tried to ask if anyone wanted to be interviewed. The sullen soldiers preferred to stay in their corners, busy with their own demons and praying that the end of this hell would come soon. However, when one of them felt in a good mood to give him a moment, there was only one subject that escaped from their mouths: the desire to share their bunk with the luscious forms of a woman. And getting drunk.
Basically, nothing interesting to put into his article, he was convinced that his press review will be summarized in the simple strategic information and a historic track in order to document the state at the front for the lucky ones stuck safely away from the battlefield.
Now sitting alone at a lonely table, Guren had taken some photos with his camera before letting his pen scribble some notes onto the yellow pages of an old notebook. Major General Hiiragi had explained how the village had been strategically transformed since they had built their camp here. To think about it more seriously, it looked more like a small town than a simple village. There were mainly four large buildings still used. An infirmary used the old house of a medic who hadn’t left and was still doing his duty. As for the lodgings, the old houses that had not been destroyed had been requisitioned to serve the soldiers so that they could rest. The city hall was used as headquarters and the old farmhouse, which barn had been rearranged for better use of the place, allowed the soldiers to meet around twenty old wooden tables and an improvised cantina.
The general had also reminded Guren how this point was a strategic place in the ongoing war and how difficult it had been to keep this place safe. The village was the last bastion defending the only bridge in this swampy region. A position that was hard to defend but also quite difficult to attack. He glanced at the still steaming bowl of soup someone on kitchen duty had put in front of him. The brew tasted faded and no perfume emanated from the meal. What should he have expected? He could be lucky that those tired soldiers took care of him, even if it was because Shinya had given the order to his men. Guren was an outsider, he would never be capable to know how those must be feeling. And they surely didn’t want to feel his pity.
His wristband showed quarter past seven in the afternoon, Guren allowed himself to walk outside, tired of writing and working. The white-haired soldier had left a few hours ago, after having politely answered a few more questions of a purely professional nature and Guren was now alone, standing In the middle of the snowy road dotted with tracks. It was already dark, the night had enveloped the village and only rare and faded lights were creeping through some windows. It was an eerie atmosphere and he didn’t feel safe at all. Clenching his fist onto his bag, Guren wanted to step back inside the farmhouse as he caught some glimpse of white further away. Instinctively, Guren’s feet started to move but the more the farmhouse was getting far, the more frightened he felt in this pseudo ghost town. But as Guren suddenly looked around, he had lost track of the glimpse and was now standing at the crossroad all by himself.
“Shit!” He balled his cold fists angrily into his pockets. Not feeling the need to run after this person, although he was sure that it was Shinya Hiiragi. Guren felt nonetheless that this man was, for the moment, the only one with whom he was able to establish a so-called bond of social politeness since his arrival here.
Suddenly, a group of four humming soldiers came across his way and before he could react, a pair of soldiers’ strong arms grabbed him firmly, pulling him all the way to where he came from. His head needed a few seconds until he realized what was happening to him.
“Hey! Let go of me!” Guren shouted angrily as he tried to set himself free, but the men were much stronger than him.
“C’mon, little mouse. Have some fun with us!” One soldier said as he turned towards him, Guren felt his stomach turn at the smell of alcohol.
"Jeez, I don’t need fun!” He grumbled, but they ignored him. Guren decided that despite the situation he didn't want to be in, there was no point in struggling. The men didn't seem to want to let him go and somehow, he knew that nothing would happen to him. Although that was what he believed. He gulped as he remembered stories about desperate fighters, stuck in boredom and despair. His job as a journalist allowed him to read so much, shall it be right or wrong, that a title he had read not so long ago just flashes in his mind. 'Young girls get raped by soldiers. Shouldn't they protect us? '
Looking at them, Guren thought that something like that couldn't happen to him. First of all, he was a man and he tried deeply to drown the little pitchy voice of fear in his head which was saying that it, when it shall happen, doesn't matter what he was. Second, these soldiers were so drunk that he just wondered how they could possibly still be walking straight forward.
He was about to think about a third point, eagerly swallowing away the little hint of fear that was creeping deep inside his guts, when they reached back to the barn and entered with loud but joyful greetings.
"Goshi! What took you so long?" Someone shouted but he never received an answer as they stumbled inside.
"Can you let go now?" Guren asked, dryly as he tried to shake the blond's arm off.
“Oh, please excuse us, mister” The blond soldier, who was still holding Guren, waved, grinning at him and the alcohol was completely overpowering his breath. “Capital mice don’t know how to party at the front.”
"Sure I do." With one last shake, the soldier let go of him and Guren looked at him, angrily. “But not by drunken force…”
He hadn't liked the way he and his comrade had dragged him back to the farmhouse but as he now could see the blond's face in the dimmed light, Guren felt his anger slowly disappearing. The soldier had a kind of idiotic visage, like a grownup with a childish face, except for his blond beard. And like everyone else, he had dark creases of exhaustion showing under his brown eyes.
The blond soldier just shrugged and turned towards his brothers, greeted with loud shouts and clenching beer bottles. Slightly still confused, Guren observed which scene was slowly unfolding right in front of him.
They were mostly sitting all together, having rearranged the tables to accommodate a better conviviality between them, while others were still just standing and busy. Another poor gas lamp was flickering in the middle, showing awful shadows on their face and turning them from soldiers into poor and tortured souls. Nevertheless, they all were happily smiling and chatting all together. All men, Guren could observe, were laughing genuinely. This situation was absurd but somehow, all of them seemed serene. Happy to still be alive and glad to share another moment with their comrades.
Some played cards. Others challenged each other to an arm wrestling match. Still others were feasting and emptying their bottle of beer in one go as if it were their last. There were also soldiers who engraved names and hearts in the wood of the barn’s pillar. Guren could catch the blond soldier, which had dragged him back here earlier, etching a name into the woods. ‘Mito'’ and he first thought of a little girl’s name. Or maybe a woman's, he couldn't pinpoint it out.
And then, he heard it. A guitar was playing a rhythmic melody and a song was sung in a low and deep, although vibrant voice, chorused by most of the men. Even a tangerine was tingling in rhythme and drew his attention.
“...I know not how she found me
For in darkness I was walking
And destruction lay around me
From a fight I could not win…”
Mouth agape, Guren was so absorbed by the scene, he bathed in the ironic but appealing mood those soldiers were creating, that he didn’t hear someone approaching him from behind.
“Isn’t it…” Shinya started and he flinched. Eyes briefly glanced at the white-haired who had just sneaked right behind him, before turning his attention back to the crowd.
“Beautiful?”
“Grotesque” Shinya snorted and as Guren tried to catch his expression, the man had already turned his heels from the weak light so that Guren couldn’t decipher anything from the ladder's face. “But those men deserve hope. They’re strong. And drunk. Anyway, let me show you your quarter for the night.”
Remaining silent, Guren turned one last time his face back to the singing and humming soldiers, gossebump crept under his skin, and without thinking, he suddenly draw his camera out of his back and aimed at the men. His forefinger pressed the trigger hastily and Guren knew the brightness wasn’t perfect, but he hoped that he could capture this moment in one picture. Even if it wouldn’t work, he persuaded himself that the scene would anchor itself in his mind.
“… She asked to name my foe then
I said the need within some men
To fight and kill their brothers
Without thought of love or God…”
The song was still sung in the back as Guren turned towards the exit. Shinya was already waiting in the dark and the cold of the winter month as the journalist stepped outside.
“Please this way” The taller said, leading the way in the direction of the officer's quarter where Guren would stay for the next 48 hours. Strangely, the darkness wasn’t oppressing anymore. In his ears, the last remains of the song were slowly fading as they turned around a corner.
“My labour is not easier
But now I know I’m not alone..”
The journalist had to admit, he felt relieved having Shinya kinda escorting him to his quarter. He couldn’t explain why the darkness of the streets had been so oppressing earlier and why the whole thing felt completely different. He was so far away from home and he had never thought about how cruel and anxious the war really was outside the place he belonged. But Guren wasn’t the only one far away from home. That oddball escorting him find himself miles away from where he belonged and his beloved ones. The thought made his heart promptly flinch.
Eventually, they reached some old tiny house situated slightly far away from everything else. A peculiar and oppressive atmosphere surrounded them and the silence was rarely interrupted by distant bangs or the laughter of drunken soldiers. Entering right behind the white-haired one into the old house, whose old door creaked like a squeaking cat, Guren looked around as he dropped his belongings on the ground and closed the loudly grating door behind him. The room was small and everything but cozy. He had supposed that officers had more privilege than simple soldiers and would have grabbed only the best for themselves but seeing the poor-filled room, the journalist felt a little confused. Maybe, this room belonged to nobody yet and had just been prepared for himself. Yet, he was glad that the room was warm due to the little heater as he threw his jacket onto the back of one chair and stepped closer to the warmth. Guren hated the winter.
“Welcome to my cozy little love hotel~” The officer grinned as he was unbuttoning his uniform and Guren’s mouth slapped open at the remark. Yeah, that guy was a real oddball.
“So this is your place? It’s…”
“Empty, unpersonalized, boring?”
“Small. The four stars on the invitation were fake.” Guren snorted deadpanned. But also Shinya's words seemed to be true from Guren's point of view. Thinking back to the interview, he had learned that Shinya was spending his seventh month here since the operation "Seraph" had been launched. Seven months of living between destruction outside and emptiness inside, Guren’s heart felt like it was just turned into stone and he felt a bit uncomfortable. Even if soldiers didn't carry a lot of personal belongings with them, like one dear photo, a ring or something else significantly small but important, this place was so empty it looked like it didn't belong to anyone. If it really was Shinya's place. The emptiness wasn't just a feeling, Guren admitted.
The room had an old dark wooden bed with old sheets, half hidden behind a thick brown curtain with some floral pattern on it. Near the entrance was an old, partly destroyed kitchen, some of whose cupboards still had whole doors. The wood clearly showed its suffering and the paint was crumbling, even a few petals of color were scattered here and there. Next to it was a rectangular table with three wooden chairs and then, there was the heater in the middle of the room. He tried to look after some belongings, but Guren found nothing except for the man's uniform now hanging over the back of one chair. And the dusty smell filled the room.
“Please, make yourself comfortable. Would you like some tea?” Shinya asked as Guren took a chair to sit in, the furniture's feet scraping involuntarily on the floor.
Guren just nodded, absentmindedly observing how the officer rummaged through the kitchen's cupboard and eventually prepared some pot, into which he poured water to be boiled on the heater.
“So, I’m sleeping here?” The black-haired one asked, finally looking everywhere around but Shinya.
“Yup” Shinya hummed as he placed two old cups with tea bags on the table before returning to the heater.
“And, there is only one bed?”
“Indeed” Shinya grinned like the Cheshire cat and didn't flinch, his dull blue eyes piercing him uncomfortably. Guren felt how the blood was drained from his face as he thought of sharing a bed with an intriguing oddball crossed his mind. This would never happen, not even on his dead body.
"No spare bed?" He asked, internally praying for some miracle but he deeply knew what would be the answer. The man didn't answer, he turned around as the water started to boil and returned it to the table. Shinya was still smirking as he poured the hot water into the cups.
"No spare bed." They were both looking straight at each other and Guren wished to punch the smirk out of his face.
But then, the taller one abruptly averted his gaze and burst into laughter as he put the casserole in the sink.
“My my, you must see your face right now. You’re surely thinking of us together in this small bed. ” The white-haired soldier pointed out the said bed and Guren swallowed, embarrassed. Shinya had read him like an open book, simply laid bare his thoughts and openly mocked him. Guren didn't know if he should feel annoyed by this oddball or if he shouldn't have thought of sharing a bunk with another person. “Don’t worry, I'm not going to stay. This place is yours until your departure.”
And then the black haired didn't know what he felt, dismissing the light disappointment crawling in his chest. It was a mixture of heaviness and Guren persuaded himself that his mind was reflecting the emptiness of the room. Eventually, they sat in silence, after Shinya's laughing had faded and now sipping their own warm and flavorless drink.
"What flavor is it?" He tried to break the awkward silence, but he didn't direct his eyes to the white-haired one.
“Sorry for the chamomille, but with the lack of supply, well…” Shinya said but paused as he emptied his own cup, his expression changed like the liquid he just had drunk tasted disgusting. As even the word disgusting couldn't be used for this brew. “We reused tea bags as long as we can to savor a simili of something.”
"Oh.." And nothing more came up, the silence filled the room again. Guren tried to focus on his tea, he supposed it could have been chamomille but it was actually more tasting like boiled water with a hint of something.
Then Shinya pointed Guren’s notebook from the table. It was such a habit as a journalist to carry it with him, that he had completely forgotten he had put it on the table.
“Don’t you have some more questions to ask?” The white haired chirped in his odd way.
"Not really" He said and simply shrugged. He had asked a lot in the afternoon and now no question came up in his mind. He absentmindedly looked around, but his glance stuck discreetly at Shinya. How the man was now sitting silently, his deep and dark circle made him look like an errant corpse. Guren wondered how this man wasn't about to fall dead of fatigue, the signs in his face were inexorable. And yet, Shinya always seemed to display an expression contradictory to Guren's feeling, as if the man sitting in front of him was simply an empty shell and reacting out of convenience. He did not believe in the supernatural or in science fiction. Shinya was human, so for God's sake, this man wasn't resting?
"Really not?"
"Really."
"Ah c'mon, not funny" The white-haired one chuckled, Guren observed him with an arched eyebrow.
"I'm not here to have fun."
"That's unfortunate" His voice faded and both stared at their cups again, but before the silence came upon them, a thought crossed his mind and he watched patiently as Shinya nonchalantly, either annoyingly swung his teacup, letting the clear liquid swirl without overflowing.
“Why don’t you stay?” Guren simply asked not so out of the blue, admitting the light curiosity which gravitated around the white-haired oddball.
“Eager about my presence tonight?” Shinya chuckled, letting go of his cup and joined his hands together, Guren could feel how those blues were staring at him with intense curiosity and he couldn’t shake the need to gulp in distress.
“Not really,” Guren answered dryly, as he immediately regretted his question. He emptied his cup and deposited it back on the table, with more force than actually wanted so that the cup made a thud as it hit the wood. Shinya flinched at that moment and Guren wasn't sure he just had imagined it. Maybe. "You just look like shit"
"Thanks for the compliment" Shinya rolled his eyes and waved him off, but the smirk did not disappear from his lips, as if it was permanently stamped on his mouth.
"Do you ever sleep?"
"My schedule is quite charged sometimes. And the nights aren't as restful as we wish them to be. " The Major General sipped at the washed porcelain cup again and went on, nonchalantly, as if the words he's gonna say are just as bland as fuck. "You only can waste yourself with some alcohol to get some sleep in a place like this. You're haunted the moment you close your eyes."
"I-"
"But if you really are worried, you can lull me to bed, Gu~ren!"
"Ah, just shut up!"
"And give me a good night kiss, though."
"Stop your bullshit!" Guren felt his cheeks warming up as his heartbeat pumped his hot blood into his face when his subconscious let flash an image of him placing a soft kiss on the soldier's cheek to wish him a good night before being absorbed by this glance. That would never happen. Guren wouldn't even board a kid to bed nor kiss someone somewhere and least, not someone he didn't even know.
And Shinya giggled happily, that goofy expression always displayed on his face and the journalist was convinced that this man was going to drive him crazy.
"It’s so easy to tease you. I could gladly get used to this!"
"Forget it. I'm gone in two days" Guren clicked his tongue, visibly annoyed and Shinya, grinningly, waved him off as he stood up. He dislikes the way Shinya could easily read, like an open book. And it intrigued him to the point he couldn’t avoid an eerie shiver running down his spine. Believing having the white-haired around, made him feel kind of uncomfortable. Guren sighed inwardly as he shook his mind empty. No, this was the no-man’s land and nobody would feel at ease here. You must be crazy to call a place like this home or paradise. So he tried to shake his thoughts away and persuade himself the whole situation was the reason he felt like this. Shinya was the one breaking the silence again, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“Supplies will be delivered tonight.” The white-haired said, without looking at the journalist, getting up to prepare a new pot with water before placing it on the heater. Then, rummaging through the cupboards, Shinya opened an old wooden box and took two still-sealed tea bags to prepare a new round of tea.
“Hu?” Guren looked at him. In spite of his back half turned to him, he observed how his expression was clouded with seriousness, Shinya reminded calm and didn't stop from what he was doing. Although, Guren could see how his blue eyes had darkened a bit in the dim light.
“You asked why I can’t stay. We have supplies getting delivered tonight, I have to check and prepare everything. We’re marching towards the enemy in two days.”
Suddenly, Guren felt stupid and the sudden feeling of tightness that gripped his chest left his heart beating more briskly, but Shinya continued talking as if it was harmless.
“As you already have heard, the rumors are true. Allies have intercepted enemy supplies and while they were waiting for support, the west bataillon managed to come closer to our front. As our comrade from the north had taken the upper hand for now. ” He turned fully his back to Guren and ruffled through the old cupboard again before joining Guren at the table. He offered him some biscuits with two new cups of hot tea. The biscuits tasted dull, but the tea was excellent and hot, and the smell of rosehip filled his nostrils.
“In the need to keep that little advantage, we’re gonna assault their base in two days from now on.” His brain had just flipped the switch, his professionalism had just taken over, repressing all emotionalism and humanity. Guren absorbed every single word, focused on his work as if he was wearing blinders and he let his pen scribble down each word coming out of Shinya’s mouth into his notebook. All without once lifting his gaze to the taller and missing the blackness in Shinya's face made him look awful. And now, Guren was aware of all the details regarding the final phase of the operation 'Seraph', and his professional attitude was suddenly gone with the business done. It was at this moment that this peculiar feeling grazed his deep core again, the feeling of something off didn’t leave Guren at all.
“So, this means that this battle will en-” But before the sentence ended, Guren couldn’t hold the honest yawing escaping from his mouth as let his pen fall off his hand.
“My my Gu~ren, shall I tuck you into bed?” Shinya teased him, biting on the last piece of biscuit he elegantly hold between his slender but pale finger, Guren thought.
“Leave me alone, will you!” Snatching his notebook close, Guren emptied the last sipping of his lukewarm tea before stretching his sore back, Shinya’s furniture wasn't comfortable at all and he hoped that the bed would do a proper job for the night. Time had passed in a flash, Guren's wristwatch showed past eleven now and today had been a long day for him since he had woken up very early this morning to cross the whole country to get here.
“Fine. Anyways, I’ve work to do.” The sound of his voice had grown cold and reserved and his expression had deepened, yet he continued to smile as if nothing in the world could shake him now and thus prevent anyone from being concerned. The white-haired man stood up and, after quickly putting away the cups in the sink, he grabbed his uniform jacket, whose multitude of metal medals clanked against each other. Guren watched him silently reaching for the door. That wasn't what he wanted to happen. “If you need something, ask any soldier on duty guard. I wish you goodnight, Gu~ren!”
“‘Night…” Guren muttered cold and then, Shinya left. He was now alone, settled in a bed that was not his own. The urge to shut off the dim light had shaken at the first sign of discomfort and resignedly, Guren sighed deeply, his gaze fixed on the old ceiling beams of this house. The light would stay on tonight and he thanked inwardly the presence of the still radiant heater before Morpheus engulfed him in a dreamless sleep.