I will fight the end
There’s very little point in Ronin responding to anything Jata says, because he’s already talking about napping and bundling himself up in the blankets before the Star can even consider the answer to the first question. He’s glad that the Arbiter goes down without a fuss, in truth, though the hand that reaches out to snag him tugs him back onto the bed.
Sighing and smiling ruefully at the other man, Ronin settles against the headboard, sitting up with Sunjata curled at his side. He’ll stay for just a little while, he tells himself. Just until he’s sure his friend won’t randomly wake up and look for knives.
Except that isn’t quite how it goes, and Ronin realises it as the rain begins to fall around him in the darkness. He’s more accustomed to this, as time goes on, to realising when he’s sneaking into someone’s dreams. The result, of course, is that he’s learning to do it seamlessly, like now; the Star has barely noticed that he’s fallen asleep, let alone that he’s slipped into Jata’s subconscious.
He forces himself to look up - and when he does, there’s rain pelting off a helmet that he’s wearing, the tinted visor showing him children, parents, a family he’s been sworn to protect. He feels leather and Kevlar snug around his body - not that he knows what that is, and the weight of the gun in his hands is a familiar one, even if he doesn’t know (or does he) how to use it).
It’s a miserable and rainy day in Korofi. But aren’t most of them that way?
Sighing and smiling ruefully at the other man, Ronin settles against the headboard, sitting up with Sunjata curled at his side. He’ll stay for just a little while, he tells himself. Just until he’s sure his friend won’t randomly wake up and look for knives.
Except that isn’t quite how it goes, and Ronin realises it as the rain begins to fall around him in the darkness. He’s more accustomed to this, as time goes on, to realising when he’s sneaking into someone’s dreams. The result, of course, is that he’s learning to do it seamlessly, like now; the Star has barely noticed that he’s fallen asleep, let alone that he’s slipped into Jata’s subconscious.
He forces himself to look up - and when he does, there’s rain pelting off a helmet that he’s wearing, the tinted visor showing him children, parents, a family he’s been sworn to protect. He feels leather and Kevlar snug around his body - not that he knows what that is, and the weight of the gun in his hands is a familiar one, even if he doesn’t know (or does he) how to use it).
It’s a miserable and rainy day in Korofi. But aren’t most of them that way?
'til the end is here
