#seraing

Jibran (Dr. Ji)/Seraing, platonic Lu Feng and Seraing, canon compliant I think, pre-canon,

CW: blood, guns, violence (graphic)

BEWARE, LONG FIC AHEAD!

The first time they met was when Seraing had just joined the ranks of the Tribunal Court. He was assigned to be the second-in-command after Colonel Lu Feng. He quickly came to learn that Lu Feng's coldness was just a protective cover: a barrier set up to keep his demons from hurting the people around him. Seraing saw through him almost immediately. He felt sadness for him, sadness for the fact that Lu Feng felt that he couldn't be close to others. Lu Feng was clearly very alone. The civilians of the Northern Base hated him, the soldiers and the other Judges feared him, and even his own mother despised him. Seraing's sympathy for him was confusing for others, but Seraing himself knew deep down that Lu Feng needed someone by his side, someone who understood him, someone who could save him. He couldn't be the someone who could save Lu Feng, neither could he understand him fully, but a friendly face in a sea full of hatred was not a challenge for someone as kindhearted as Seraing.

Gradually, Lu Feng seemed to warm up to Seraing. He kept him by his side, and showed a more approachable facade when talking to him. His guards were lowered a bit, and Seraing could see that Lu Feng subconsciously leaned in for his warmth and gentleness. Seraing knew then that what Lu Feng needed the most was someone gentle and caring, someone who could offer the purest form of humanity in a world who had lost almost all.

One day, Lu Feng finally let go of the wall between them, and took Seraing with him to the Lighthouse. Seraing was truly happy when he found out that Lu Feng had one close friend other than himself. Doctor Ji was one of those more eccentric ones, but he was a scientist, after all. Lu Feng didn't introduce them to each other, he didn't need to. Doctor Ji took one look at Seraing following closely behind Lu Feng and jumped up to greet him enthusiastically. Seraing had heard of this man before, he was one of the best researchers the Lighthouse had. He worked closely with the Tribunal Court. There was a rumour going around that he was at a very critical point in his research. If he were to succeed, a new way of testing could be used to detect infections.

Seraing politely shook his hand.

"Doctor Ji, I've heard much about you."

"Darling, Jibran is the name, and yes, I'm sure you've heard lots of shit about me from the colonel," the doctor said nonchalantly. He languidly spun on his heels to face Lu Feng. "Who is this little cutie?"

Seraing felt his face heat up. He smiled awkwardly. Lu Feng didn't answer; he just went straight into the doctor's office and took a seat. Jibran tsked and shook his head in disapproval.

"Is that the way to treat your best friend? Wow, such manners!" he muttered under his breath. Casually putting both his hands down the pockets of his white lab coat, he turned back towards Seraing, who was still standing there stiff as a board.

Jibran's blue gaze seemed to pierce through him like lasers as he scanned him from top to bottom and then up again. It was as if he was some kind of special biological matter being dissected on the cold examination table. Seraing cleared his throat and folded his arms behind his back, standing somewhat at attention.

"Seraing. From the Tribunal Court," he said, voice coming out steadier than he felt.

Jibran raised a fair eyebrow, taking a few relaxed steps to circle him fully. All the while looking at him from different angles. He stopped back in front of him after two rounds, idly leaning his weight to one side, eyes half-shut like a sly, but satisfied cat after playing with a mouse. Seraing noticed that his thin lips were drawn up to one corner of his mouth, painting a slight mischievous smirk on his handsome face.

"So, this is our new Judge. Interesting. You're still rosy-cheeked with youth; I would have never taken you for someone from the Tribunal," Jibran said. He stepped a bit closer. Seraing couldn't help but audibly take in another breath, lest he subconsciously stopped breathing because of their closeness. They were about the same height. Seraing was maybe slightly taller, but his leanness and gentle body language took up less space, making him appear smaller in comparison. Jibran hummed an approving tune, now transforming that half-smirk into a playful and arguably flirty one. "But, I like a little hidden danger beneath that uniform of yours."

Seraing didn't know how to respond to that. He was both flustered and embarrassed. Suddenly, an impatient huff came from Lu Feng's direction. Instantly, he felt mortified by the fact that someone else had borne witness to his interactions with Jibran. And not just any person, his superior even.

"Jibran, stop fooling around," Lu Feng commented. Jibran clapped his hands together, the sharp sound breaking the strange tension that had built up between Seraing and Jibran. He didn't seem the least offended by Lu Feng's cold tone; a testimony of his many years spent by the colonel's side. He turned on his heels and briskly walked toward his giant desk, where Lu Feng was currently seated.

"Right, work first," he said. When he noticed that Seraing was still hesitantly standing by the door and shifting his weight from foot to foot, he quickly beckoned to him. "Come on in, darling, I don't bite. Not most of the time, at least."

"I'm going out tomorrow morning," Lu Feng said, not waiting for Jibran to sit down. "Seraing will take my place for the time."

"The Abyss?" Jibran asked.

"Mn."

"And?" Jibran said. "I don't really think you're here for my encouragement, so I'm not giving you any."

"Any specific samples you want?" Lu Feng said.

Jibran slapped his knee and started laughing. Seraing, who had walked further into the office, turned in his direction. Jibran had a very deep laugh, and it was filled of teasing familiarity.

"Oh, so you do know manners!" Jibran exclaimed sarcastically. "Something I want you to keep an eye after? Yes, I got a list spanning more than three full pages! I thought you'd never ask."

Jibran stood up and walked over to one of the cabinets behind his desk. Seraing continued observing the glass containers displayed on the shelves lining one full wall of the massive Lighthouse office. Jibran returned to Lu Feng with quite a few papers and documents. Seraing didn't listen in on their conversations that much since Jibran's voice held that teasing tone that revealed the more casual nature of their exchange. Lu Feng had brought him here just to familiarise him with Doctor Ji, as they would probably have to work with each other during the following months to come. The Abyss was hard to reach; it was the furthest anyone from the Northern Base had ever thought of venturing. It was dangerous too, and the risk of infection high. Lu Feng had already taken him everywhere in the base the last two days, and he had met many different people of position. These were the measures taken in case Lu Feng didn't return. Seraing knew this in his mind, and yet, he still didn't know how to feel about it. The possibility that this was the last time seeing the colonel had already sunk in, but it still felt distant in a way. They hadn't known each other long, yet he trusted Lu Feng completely. Trusted him to come back and resume his position as the Arbiter in the Tribunal.

The next day Lu Feng was gone. He left early in the morning, taking with him a dozen soldiers and three armoured trucks packed with necessities. Most of the civilians didn't know this, but it was almost like the entire base heaved a sigh of relief when they noticed that Lu Feng was not among those conducting the daily inspections in the city. Soon, they would come to the conclusion that he had gone out. Unlike normal mercenaries, who ventured out to collect valuables in exchange for the base currency, members of the Tribunal stayed in the wilderness for months, gathering data they hoped would aid research progress at the Lighthouse. Without doubt, many were already praying for the mission to fail, for Lu Feng to never return to the base.

The following weeks, a total of two small incidents occurred. Because of Lu Feng's absence at the entrance gates, one infected mercenary made it through the lines of lower-ranking Judges before coming face to face with Seraing. If Seraing hadn't been recognised by Lu Feng himself for his ability to detect asymptomatic infections, the mercenary would have slipped through the cracks and potentially doomed the whole base. Seraing executed him on the spot, a quick and precise bullet to the head. It was a harsh, but necessary action for the safety of those in the base, for humanity.

The second incident didn't require Seraing's presence. Another mercenary had gotten infected, this time it had spread to the whole mercenary team that went with them. The infection showed itself while they were waiting in line for inspections before entering. One of the newer Judges, a young woman who had started training when Seraing had just passed the final test, was spat at during the confrontation. She fired multiple shots in succession, of which the last was for herself. Usually, the line of people waiting for their judgment by the gates were unfazed while the gunshots rang off every now and then. No one would stir or even bat an eyelid, they would continue their sombre conversations and mumbling. This time, the whole line fell into silence.

It was safe to say that both Seraing and Jibran were very busy in their respective duties, so they rarely met after that first time with Lu Feng. One patrolled the Outer City, while the other traveled between the Lighthouse in the Main City and the border gates. But, sometime during the second month, an experiment being conducted at the Lighthouse had gotten out of control, and the Tribunal Court was called in to inspect the personnel involved.

Seraing and three other Judges hopped out of the heavy off-road vehicle. The weather-beaten half-truck they had driven in from the outer gates stood in sharp contrast to the sleek glass and steel aesthetic of the Twin Towers. They wasted no time, briskly walking in through the automatic glass doors to the Lighthouse. In the wide corridor before the elevator, a blonde man with an ashen face stood with his hands deep in the pockets of his white lab coat.

"Doctor Ji," Seraing said. Jibran let out a tired sigh. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his whole form seemed more slumped over than his usual lazy way of carrying himself. He gave a slight nod in greeting.

"The eighth floor," he simply said. "I was in the observation room when the area went into a lockdown. I don't know how many have been exposed."

"Got it. You're clear for now, but stay here until the incubation period is over," Seraing said. Jibran nodded, his face still sickly-looking. They called the elevator. Seraing gave a curt nod to his colleagues, and they all readied their guns. The elevator arrived with a ping.

"Stay safe," Jibran said behind them. The doors closed.

The elevator quickly brought them up, the sound of the mechanism purring like a cat in the compressed silence. Humankind's interests take presedence over all else. The motto rang in their heads. The Judge to the right of Seraing started muttering the Pledge of the Tribunal Court.

"... although wrong, it is still right." Rather make a mistake in judgement than risk letting an infected go.

There were more than twenty researchers in that lab. Those who had escaped before the airtight doors sealed themselves would still have to go through inspection.

The monitor pinged once again. They had arrived at the eighth floor.

"Be quick and precise. Keep a safe distance," Seraing ordered. The doors slid open. A young research assistant standing a few meters to the left in the corridor with his back to the elevator shifted around at the sound. Before his body had completely turned, a shot rang out and he fell to the floor. A haunting pattern of vivid red stained the white wall where he had stood just a second before. The splatter of blood from his head exploded onto the face of the senior researcher who had been standing with him. There was only a short scream of shock, no one on the eighth floor was actually scared. The deafening sound had shook everyone from their sombre resignation. All who worked at the Lighthouse knew what the aftermath of a malfunctioned experiment looked like. Only a few people had escaped the lab itself, now they faced the first wave of judgement. They systematically stumbled to form a line by one side of the long corridor wall. The first gunshot had announced the arrival of the Tribunal.

Jibran was still standing by the elevator when they came back down. His lab assistant had joined him. He was forcing a glass of water into the doctor's hands. Jibran kept dismissing him, telling him that everything was fine. His colour had return to normal, the ashyness had gone away and his whole demeanour had livened up again. The initial shock had passed, and now he just looked stressed, as if he had a headache. Seraing stepped forward and Jibran immediately met him with a resigned smile.

"Ah, there you are," he said. Seraing noticed that his eyes flickered momentarily to somewhere behind him before focusing on him again. "I take that the immediate threat has been dealt with. Um, Doctor Klein and the rest?"

"We will retrieve them as soon as possible," Seraing said. He turned to the three other Judges, they all still wore pale expressions. "Bring the stretchers, let's get all of them down here as soon as possible."

The others gave an affirmative sound and left, their steps echoed in the wide corridor. Seraing reduced the distance between him and the doctor, grabbing the glass of water from the assistant's hand and gently handed it over to Jibran.

"Here, drink."

Jibran lowered his eyes to the glass and sighed. At last, he still took a sip.

"Doctor Klein was the one who helped me start the project, without him, I wouldn't have come this far with detecting infections. When I first joined the Lighthouse, he was the one who guided me," he said. He let out a huff of a laugh and chugged down the rest of the water in one go. Seraing wanted to comfort him, but the blackness of the uniform he wore hid the bloodstains of Jibran's former mentor, and the gun in his holster was still hot from firing at all his colleagues.

"There is nothing that could've been done," he said, and then hesitantly added, "I'm sorry for your loss."

Jibran shook his free hand in a gesture of dismissal, and then patted Seraing lightly on the arm where the droplets of now dried deep red hadn't stained too much. He met his eyes and offered a smile that resembled more his old self.

"Don't think about it too much. After this, I'll take over from him, and after me, someone else will do the same. We're all living on borrowed time anyway," he said. Giving back the empty glass to his assistant, he finally moved from the spot he had been standing in since Seraing had first arrived. He worked out all the kinks and joints from his stale body and then resumed his laid-back position. He squinted his eyes at Seraing, as if this was actually the first time he had really acknowledged him today. "Seraing, wasn't it? Yes, Lu Feng's little cutie. I Remember you."

Seraing's face gained a little colour, but the paleness clung onto him like nausea after a full day without eating. Jibran had a special way of making him feel better, but he didn't know what it was. He pulled his lips into a tiny smile, feeling shy all of a sudden.

"Doctor Ji, if you keep calling me that, everyone will soon think that I really am the Colonel's cutie," he said.

Jibran raised his eyebrow, a hint of something teasing in his eyes.

"Oh? So you're not someone's cutie, then? What a shame."

The response Seraing had prepared instantly got lost somewhere on the way from his brain to his mouth. All the words mushed together, and he could only splutter out something incoherent. Jibran looked on as he struggled, finally letting out a laugh, satisfied with how much he had managed to affect the young Judge. The incident from half an hour ago successfully shoved into something of the past, one grief among the many that had been, and were to come.

Collecting himself, Seraing gathered his words yet again. He looked at the handsome man in front of him who was still laughing. It was very rare nowadays to create genuine bonds with others in the base. No one knew when their time was out, when they would meet their very own last moments, be it by the cruel nature of this damaged Earth, or by the cold muzzle of a gun. The era of humanity would come to a bitter and hopeless end, but at least, you could chose to resist, clinging onto life and hope until death. Seraing swallowed, his mouth had gone dry. The tip of his ears were already warm from thinking of the words in his mind. This would be his first time laying himself bare in front of someone else, and if he hesitated, he might never have the chance to do so again. He struggled one last time, so the words that finally came out were still a bit jumbled. He met Jibran's blue eyes.

"I can still be someone's cutie. If that someone isn't too busy, of course," he said, not regretting a word.

Jibran blinked, as if taken by surprise, then he smiled cheekily.

"Well, if you keep this up, I'll just have to come up with a lie to get some leave," he lifted Seraing's chin with a pale, slender finger. "How can I otherwise compete with that someone else for this beautiful face? You'd be snatched away the moment I return to my lab."

Seraing hid his smile by casting his gaze downward. He leaned into the slightly cold touch and closed his eyes. In this age, human touch was something rarely experienced. Thinking about it, this was his first time being intimate with another, and the feeling was... thrilling.

The automatic doors could be heard sliding open at the far end of the corridor, and the sound of the outside came creeping in, along with the echoing boots of the other Judges. Seraing instinctively backed away a few steps, but Jibran only grabbed onto his collar to keep him from leaving, eventually letting his hand stroke down the front of his chest. It was only for a few seconds, but Seraing thought his hand had left a trail of electricity. Acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, Jibran looked at the other Judges and gave a quick nod.

"The Tribunal Court has my thanks. Now, if there isn't anything else, I must be on my way," he said. He then turned back to Seraing, eyes twinkling. He tilted his head in farewell. "Seraing, we're sure to meet again."

Jibran stuck his hands down his pockets again and leisurely walked into a side corridor, disappearing into the labyrinthine interior of the Lighthouse. His assistant had already gone ahead of him.

That day marked the beginning of their entanglement. After the incident at the Lighthouse, Seraing had to return to the Outer City. Jibran, true to his words, successfully got a few days off to spend them in the Outer City as well. Maybe it was the feeling of danger, or the fact that surviving in the Outer City was harsher, but the need for closeness only grew more unbearable. The civilians, the merchants, the prostitutes, all of them lived their lives to the fullest, not caring for anything other than momentary happiness, as if they were afraid of losing everything. Of course, such was the reality for them. The Main City had already decided their lot in life. For someone like Seraing, his life and fate was also decided on. The Tribunal Court killed and died to protect humanity.

After a tough day at the city gates, Jibran joined Seraing in his little accommodation. They had been playing around each other for a while now. The following day, Jibran was to return to the Lighthouse. Seraing was very tense, and Jibran seemed to have noticed it. It all just happened. Suddenly, Jibran had pulled him into his embrace. They stood there for a long time, in that cramped little apartment, embracing each other in silence. Jibran always looked like he was joking around, like he wasn't always so serious, but in that moment, he was very soft. Seraing hugged him tighter, and Jibran let out a light laugh next to his ear.

"I'm not going away, you know. I'll be back in a few weeks," he said.

Seraing let go of his body, but let his hands be enveloped by Jibran's. He smiled, cheeks red.

"I know. I've just wanted to do that for so long," he said. As soon as he said it, he regretted it. He could see Jibran gearing up for his speciality; teasing. The corners of his mouth and eyes were turned upwards a tiny bit.

"Oh, you have?" he said, feigning surprise. Then he leaned closer, one hand travelling up to cup Seraing's cheek. He guided his head away from him gently, and Seraing could feel his warm breath fan his neck above his shirt collar. Seraing's heart beat louder than it had ever in his life, and he was sure Jibran could feel it since his hand was so close to his pulse. "Darling, I'll let you in on a secret. I've also been thinking about you. When we first met, I really wanted to – how should I say it – dissect you on the spot, figure you out. I wanted to know what you liked, how you liked it, that sort of things."

Seraing closed his eyes and tilted his head backwards to allow Jibran closer access to his half-exposed neck. A tremble went through his body, his mind going blank. Well, Jibran clearly knew now what he was doing right for Seraing to react like he did.

"Why don't you experiment, Doctor Ji? Put your theories to the test, I don't mind," Seraing said, words half-mumbled, but still clear enough for Jibran to hear. Jibran gave a quiet chuckle then, to Seraing's frustration, he drew back, letting go of him enough so that Seraing could tilt his head back to facing him. He gave Jibran a confused look, which made him look very much like a lost puppy.

"Silly," Jibran laughed. "Can I kiss you first?"

Seraing blinked. Half-a-second later, he leaned into Jibran whole-heartedly. Their lips met. It was like the dark and harsh world around them paused, or completely disappeared for a few fleeting moments. Jibran eagerly kissed him back, bringing his hands up again to press Seraing even closer. Seraing also couldn't keep still. With fumbling hands, he touched all over the man in front of him, successfully sneaking his fingers under the hem of Jibran's sweater vest. Jibran hummed against his lips and began kissing him harder and deeper. It became more difficult to breathe, but neither of them stopped, the excitement only grew.

Soon, Seraing couldn't hold back any longer. He pushed Jibran backwards until the back of his knees hit the old, worn out sofa. Jibran, too occupied with exploring Seraing's mouth, lost his balance and was forced to sit down. Seraing straddled him, his mouth never separating from Jibran's. Seraing tugged at his uniform, feeling the heat rise between them. With a clinking sound, the long, black coat was discarded on the floor, the star-shaped badge of the Tribunal Court carelessly thrown with it. Jibran helped him with his gun harness, taking a quick breath of air before carefully freeing Seraing from the black straps holding his service weapon.

Seraing moved from Jibran's lips down to his Adam's apple, he couldn't stop. The tension in him must have taken years to build up. The emotions he felt – the arousal he felt – was something he had never experienced before. Jibran used one of his hands to firmly push Seraing away a bit, momentarily bringing him back to the present.

"Have you done this before?" he asked, still breathing hard. It was a genuine question; he wasn't teasing.

"Yes, when I was still training. But only once, and it didn't go very far," Seraing said. Jibran smiled at him and reached up to stroke his cheek again. Seraing nodded his head slightly to give his palm a light kiss.

"Then, let me take care of you this time. If you want me to, of course," Jibran said, his voice unbearably warm and soft, in contrast to his usual tone. Seraing closed his eyes once more and nodded.

"There is nothing I want more than you," he said. Jibran drew in a sharp breath and then pulled Seraing down to capture his lips, resuming where they had left off. Seraing lost himself to the sensation. In a swift motion, Jibran flipped their positions, caging Seraing in between his outstretched arms and the sofa. With skilled and steady hands, he slowly worked around Seraing's body, swallowing every little sound he made greedily. The train would leave for the Main City early the next day, so he would make the most of their remaining hours. After all, this was their first time joining.

A week later, Lu Feng returned. They had lost a few people, and one of the armoured trucks was heavily damaged. But they had been to the Abyss. The mercenaries who came to the base from the wilderness at the same time as the colonel cursed their timing, and the civilians drew far away in fear. It was as if a dark cloud had once again covered the already grey sky. Lu Feng, however, didn't stay for long. Seraing greeted him by the city gates.

"We are going to the Lighthouse," Lu Feng said, not leaving any room for formalities. He held up a glass jar containing a strange, white, fluffy object. Seraing looked at it closely, it was a tiny little spore from an equally tiny little mushroom.

Lundi. Etude, travail. Jeunette le soir, qui rentre d'une journée à la mer. Elle reste deux heures, part, puis revient plus tard. Elle met "sa musique", notamment Sébastien Tellier (bonne surprise). Prenant place devant le PC, elle fait sa sélection, explique en quoi les morceaux me sont dédiées par des paroles toutes en clin d’œil, ceci avec mille façons et minauderies charmantes.

Mardi. Matinée au marché. Moiteur et chaleur de l'atmosphère comme les matins au Vietnam. Travail en journée, entrainement le soir. La salle de boxe est attenante à une salle de "muscu". Comparaison des silhouettes : l'art Déco est à la musculature de l'athlète grec ce que le Rococo est à la musculature bodybuilding.

Mercredi. Livraisons. Jeunette au téléphone, furieuse pour un incident de la veille. Scène. Puis elle revient, plus gentille encore. 

Jeudi. Achat d'un cadeau chez Carhartt pour un camarade. Vendeuse visiblement LGBT vous réserve un accueil glacial puis elle s'engage dans une sorte de bras de fer mental de froideur qui contraste fort avec les injonctions à la courtoisie, avec la surveillance draconienne qui prévalaient dans ce type de job que je faisais à l'occasion, au début des années 2000.

La nouvelle conseillère bancaire en ligne fait des siennes. Les banques vident vos comptes en vous ponctionnant de mille grignotages par des frais, des agios, des provisions, sans vous prévenir. Dans le même temps elles requièrent des vérifications doubles et triples par "clé digitales" pour que vous puissiez accéder à votre propre compte. Lorsque faire son propre secrétariat devient un parcours du combattant...

Soir. Entrainement.

Vendredi. Courses en prévision de ce qui va suivre.  Visite de * venu de Cannes pour quelques jours. Camarade de 25 ans, connu en 1997 à Grenoble. Nous faisons bombance d'un poulet rôti "Français en exil", puis marchons dans le quartier. * tombe une bouteille de vodka, sans moi qui puis à peine en supporter une goutte.

En rentrant nous nous amusons beaucoup du jargon juridique du règlement intérieur de l'immeuble que nous lisons à haute voix plusieurs fois, avec plusieurs accents: "Chaque ayant-droit s'engage à jouir bourgeoisement de son bien immobilier dont il détient la jouissance exclusive en propriété privée, ce dans le cadre strictement prévu par la loi, d'une manière conforme en tous points aux dispositions prévues par l'article... (etc)"

Samedi 14 Mai.

Je traîne * à l'entrainement de boxe. Nous trempons chacun notre maillot puis rentrons. * répare des néons du plan de travail de la cuisine. Il faut aller au "Brico" chercher des pièces manquantes. En chemin nous nous laissons distraire par la vitrine d'un de ces clubs de sport en salle aux murs tous noirs. Nous entrons, un monsieur tout fier nous met la main dessus immédiatement et nous tient une demi-heure pour vendre les services de son club. Nous ne comprenons rien. Tout n'est que "Xcross", "kettlebell", "workshops", "mobility", "TRX", puis "TRX flow", etc. Pourtant nous acquiesçons, pris par l'aspect incongru de la scène, curieux de voir où cela mènera. C'est une expérience... Je ne sais si ce genre de vendeur m'inspire de la peine ou de la colère et demeure stupéfait de la confiance en soi de ce genre de profil. Pas une seconde le monsieur n'a soupçonné qu'il perdait son temps avec nous, ni même n'a demandé quels étaient nos besoins, nos habitudes, nos centres d'intérêt bref, les bases du "probing" et de l'AIDA (Attention-Désir-Intérêt-Achat). Oh mon Dieu si j'avais agi ainsi chez Nespresso ou chez SThree à l'époque, comme les managers m'auraient rabroué!

Aller-retour au "Brico", nous rentrons peaufiner les réparations puis prenons la route direction Seraing dans la province de Liège pour rendre une visite. Grand beau temps, mais toujours cette déglingue sociale latente qui rôde, qui colle au cul de la Belgique francophone. Nous savons tant de choses et ignorons pourtant comment vivre.

Soir, retour à Bruxelles, apéritif place Jourdan, puis pizza du samedi comme de vrais papas Italiens. Atmosphère d'été, ambiance de station balnéaire du sud de la France.

Jour du Seigneur. Seul à l'office du matin. Joie du Regina Caeli: chant bref, ramassé, heureux. 

Retour, café araméen avec *, puis nous montons voir Y* chez lui, un vieux Belge qui nous raconte son passé de braqueur des années 70, sa cavale de 10 années au Venezuela, en Afrique, des faits tous vérifiés, point d'affabulations! Il a 4 enfants de 3 femmes différentes. Dire que notre génération s'embarrasse de mille scrupules inquiets avant même d'avoir un seul enfant...

Après-midi. Kermesse devant une église du quartier européen. Nous mangeons, buvons et parlons avec les passants à droite et à gauche. Un ami se joint à nous, il m'enchante à évoquer l'histoire des Chams du Vietnam et du Cambodge, dans leurs zones de peuplement que j'ai connu en 2006, peuple extrêmement beau, proche des Khmères et de cette Asie brune davantage artiste qu'industrieuse, à l'encontre de l'Asie jaune. Autour de nous, de nombreuses filles dont certaines assez charmantes. Je prends quelques numéros, et une fille qui pourtant s'était refusée quelques mois plus tôt, me lance un regard noir alors qu'elle me voit en compagnie d'une autre. Elles vous veulent "célibataires et fidèles", ces chères petites désormais! Les deux camarades et moi descendons à Saint-Josse puis remontons à Schaerbeek, place Dailly, en terrasse. Journée de canicule paisible, passée à traîner, à rire et boire, à croiser des connaissances, à taper la discussion, la vie... Plus tard, dîner ensemble à la maison, puis un tour au parc où nous prenons le frais jusque tard dans la nuit allongés dans l'herbe, tenant des conversations d'hommes. Ce con de * manque de déclencher une embrouille avec 3 cailleras en trottinette parce qu'il les vise de loin avec un pointeur laser. Le genre d'habitudes contractées à Grenoble il y a plus de 20 ans, lorsque nous étions une bande de types aguerris et renseignés.