腐り、堕ちる。

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Wriothesley cannot remember the last time he’s seen the stars.  

Around here, it’s only darkness once the night sets. And yet, as he gazes out of the windows that open into the depths of the sea, he sees a flicker of lights in the distance.  It’s almost like his imagination is playing tricks on him out of pity.  

A little swarm of fluorescent fish swims through the darkness like a meteoroid shower in the night sky. His own little shooting stars. Would they grant him a wish if he made one? 

It feels silly, but there’s no harm in trying. Right? 

* * *

For Neuvillette, a long day has turned into a long night, and the cup of tea Imena brought him as she left for the day has gone cold long ago. 

He almost misses it - the shooting star that draws a path across the darkness. There’s something oddly comforting in how the lone star makes its way through the sky.  

His eyes follow the light until it disappears, but before returning to the documents before him, he reaches to scribble a note on his calendar for the following day. 

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