Starlight wasn’t fully sure if the guitar he was strumming on was actually the one he had played until his wrists were sore while he was in the hospital. If it isn’t, it is identical. If it is, then he has far too many questions to get answers to in one sitting. Either way, he found himself sitting alone on a platform in the Outer Rim, playing a peaceful, yet somewhat somber melody on the guitar he had found deep within a closet in the lounge.
Playing the guitar always took him back to those days. When his lungs were so filled with fluid, that he could hardly speak without either gasping for air or coughing up a storm. The ability to sing, the one thing he loved for than anything, was taken from him. So he found other means to express himself. Other instruments. Ones that didn’t require lungs that didn’t work anymore to use. Of course, now that he’s dead, he can sing to his heart’s content, save for a few coughing fits here or there. But occasionally, when his mind wanders back to those dark years at the end of his life, he finds himself picking up a guitar and letting muscle memory take over from there.
He didn’t notice her standing there, at first. But the cold gaze upon him drew him out of his dream-like state. His copper eyes fell down to the edge of the platform below, his eyes meeting those of the Angel of Death, her face as expressionless as always. Burying his bitterness and resentment of her, he gave a friendly wave. “Ah… hello there, Mori,” Starlight called out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were-”
“You were a friend of Jekyll’s,” she interrupted.
“I…” Starlight’s voice got caught in his throat for a moment. “Er… y-yes. We were… we were pen pals for many years. I’m… I’m assuming since you’re here and he’s not that he…” He swallows hard. “He… didn’t make it out.”
Mori glanced away.
Starlight bowed his head. “…I see…”
A long, tense silence followed. His eyes darted back toward her. Though in any other circumstance, Mori would be antagonizing him, holding his long, slow, and agonizing death over his head, taunting him with the life that was cut far too short, instead, she stood with her gaze averted, her eyes misty. For the first time that Starlight had ever seen, that cold mask that was almost always frozen in place faltered, and cracks of grief materialized.
“…You know…” Starlight began another tune. This time, even slower, mourning seeping through the notes he played. “…he spoke of you quite highly in his letters.”
Mori’s head turned back up to face him. Her eyes widened. “…Really?”
“Yeah,” Starlight responded with a nod. “He’d always write about whatever travels you’d go on together. He’d tell of Hurricane Valley one day, Frostbite Point the next. And throughout it all, he’d go on and on about how lucky he was to have you as his traveling partner. He looks- looked up to you, greatly. He often said that you were the bravest person in Vitalune.”
“…” Mori wiped her eyes.”…You’re just attempting to make me feel better.”
Starlight gave a half-shrug. “Maybe I am. Or maybe your best friend wrote paragraphs praising you. I’d show you his letters, but I left them all on my desk. They’ve been swallowed up by the glitches, no doubt.” Starlight smirks. “Though if you don’t believe me-”
Mori interrupts once more, “No, no, I believe you, I just…” She draws in a sharp breath. “…May I join you? Just for a moment?”
Starlight’s hands freeze over the strings of the guitar. Slowly, one hand moves, patting the ground next to him, before resuming its position on the guitar and resuming play. Mori extends her wings and flies up to the platform, sitting on her knees next to Starlight. For a long while, they remained there, nothing but the music filling the air, their shared grief keeping them bound together.
“…He was one of my only friends.” Mori finally broke the silence. “Yet very rarely would I ever refer to him as such. Perhaps… I had been a bit cold toward him. He was vocal of his feelings toward me, but very rarely did I ever return the favor. And now, it seems I have lost my chance forever.”
Starlight hums a bit in thought before speaking, “I wouldn’t say forever.”
Mori gives Starlight an odd look. “You do not mean to imply that he will become a spirit, like you? He isn’t human.”
Starlight shakes his head. “Not what I meant. I mean that you haven’t lost your chance.”
Mori suddenly raises her voice, her typical monotone speech filled to the brim with emotion, “And, pray tell, how do I still have a chance? My home was consumed by static!”
“And we are working to restore it, aren’t we?”
Mori shakes her head. “A fool’s errand.” Tears become audible in her voice, “A fool’s errand. You know as well as I that an event of this magnitude cannot simply be undone. Death awaits no one. It claimed you. It claimed Jekyll. It claimed Aima. It claimed Ino. And it will claim every last one of these damned souls trapped here, eventually. How, how, do you know this can be undone?”
“I don’t.” Was Starlight’s only response, at first. Mori remained quiet, every counterargument she was preparing dissipating. Starlight then turned to look at Mori. “But I have faith that it can be. I have seen many things, in both my lives. I’ve seen people crushed underneath the weight of a feather and yet many others are able to withstand the harshest of storms. Some even use the time spent in the eye of it to better the world as a whole. I don’t know if we’ll be able to fix everything. But there’s nothing stopping us from trying. And I’ve seen it time and time again: when a group of people band together, with the simple goal of improving the lives around them, they can beat even the most insurmountable of odds.” Starlight gave a warm smile. “You will see Jekyll again, I am willing to bet. And when you do, I want you to give him the biggest hug for me, okay?”
…
…Mori felt the tears on her cheeks. She made no effort to wipe them away.
“…Okay.”