#symphonight

"Spots are always so hard to find this time of year, aren't they?"

Sanno Matsuri was a festival Sypha had come to enjoy in the years since immigrating to Tokyo to join their oldest friend and remaining family, the balmy air and hot sun beating down on them both as they navigated their way through closed streets congested with people. Clad in a baggy t-shirt and cargo shorts, their favorite letterman jacket had to be left home due to the scorching weather.

               ❛    𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗 𝗜 𝗕𝗘 𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗨𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗗 ❟ 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨'𝗗 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗞 𝗠𝗘 𝗦𝗢 𝗢𝗕𝗟𝗜𝗩𝗜𝗢𝗨𝗦?     ❜         a rhetorical question, almost wry in kind, for they have suffered no such injury to their pride; still, the crease of their brow as they round the armchair that alucard has long since settled in tells its own story, and that story is almost certainly one of concern. in truth, silence is sacred to them both ————   however, it becomes less so when it hangs over present company like a dark cloud ( or a well of sorrows, didn't he once call it, that could swallow one up, voice and all? ).     ❛   i have never known you to keep your ruminating to yourself ... yet here you sit , all the same .     ❜ not to mention that alucard is a terrible liar, besides; it takes all but a glance for them to see through his guise when he attempts at it. vergil will keep that comment to himself for now, though.

               ❛    tell me ,     ❜         they settle at the side of the other, still-seated, a single hand resting atop the back of the armchair; and if alucard believes the softening of tone to be a trick of the ears, he can rest assured that, in the moment, such is not the case.       ❛   if for no other reason than to speak it aloud .     ❜