Beneath The Moonlight

Renuion and Departure

One can be blinded when a tie they thought was so strongly bound, is suddenly cut. Before death, the aspiration for most is the struggle for what they truly desire — wealth, power, recognition. The world is groped in the shadow of vulgarity and egotism, of violence and shame and dishonesty. Bad consciences are overlooked, because tomorrow always seemed promised.

A certain friendship, like two dragons tossed into a sea of ferment, in vain to strive to prove their dominance.

Yet when the waves have settled, and one has sunk, the other realizes what he has done.

There was light rain that cold evening. A gentle late spring breeze to let the limbs of the white-colored cherry blossom trees slowly sway, its usual vibrant color now dull and heavy.
The humidity only thickened the somber atmosphere, and every single person who arrived at the funeral service could immediately feel it, breathe it, and experience it down to every last inch.

Death was what they felt. Something fairly all of them were quite accustomed too, but rarely like this instant.

Words of low greeting were exchanged, words of grievances and polite bows and apologies and talk of what had happened was never expected. And a question that was so common but so rare,

"Is everything okay?"

A firm squeeze to his hand was all it took Dazai to shake out a monotone daze, blinking away the few drops of rainwater that fell on his lashes whilst he looked down towards Meraki, forehead crinkled in worry and eyes attempting to read into his face — she had slightly lead them away from everyone else and onto the grass.
"You can do this, Dazai. I'm here with you."

Slowly blinking, a half smile replaced the vacant one on his face, as she visibly untensed the slightest in relief. "We're here together, Meraki-kun. All the hard work you've put in to put all this together is extraordinary,"

For the past two weeks, Dazai had someone who he hadn't at one time after a different, very impacting death in the past. However this time, Meraki made sure he ate and limited alcohol, and stood her best strong beside him, knowing what he could so abruptly plummet into. A few nights of consolidation the both of them shared together, some quiet and understanding and some grieving and in shock.
And Dazai knew and noticed, and there was a sort of guilt he felt for not letting that be known enough and appreciated as they both looked ahead to the venue, a quiet well-settled field with a enough amount of seating for all the guests.

It was going to be a sort of humble event; only the Port Mafia and the Agency were to be there except for a few exceptions, as requested.
With an assuring smile, Meraki gently rubbed her hand along his chest, over the breast pocket of his fine black suit and smoothed out his dark navy tie, her hand sliding down the soft silk of it. Dazai peered at Meraki with a soft gaze, admiring in silence.

The leveled rumbling hum of an engine made both of them look towards the sleek, midnight limousine pulling up into the courtyard entrance. Meraki's hand gently fell from his chest, a sudden coldness taking its warm place.

"Oh, looks like the rest are here," suddenly on the qui vive, she looked back towards Dazai with apologetic eyes. "I should greet them and show them where to settle down, it's starting soon.."
"Ah, yes. Of course."

There was much more he wanted to say, but he found his tongue immobile and throat suddenly parched. Meraki then leaned forward and pecked a soft departing kiss onto his forehead and through his bangs, and he deftly returned one to her cheek.
The gleam of assurance in her eyes as Meraki gave a soft smile up to him one last time instilled a sense of warmth somewhere deep inside him, somewhere that had a barrier against a fleet of that horrid emotion he'd been escaping ever since the realization, that same emotion he had been killed yet not killed by all those years ago.