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[flatteries]

leave a comment here, mostly for voidtreckerexpress in-game shenanigans but anything else will be appropriately labeled.

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[adregem]

"Yes."

He answers without hesitation. And the hold Inigo keeps is well-received, as Roland's own arm around him doesn't loosen, not even for a minute. But he does take this moment to grant them some space, if only because Roland wants Inigo to see his eyes. To see his face. He wants him to know why they had to come back. Why Roland wouldn't have allowed himself to leave this planet without doing this first.

"Inigo." Roland's voice is certain. He had to keep moving forward. He couldn't falter. Not yet, not without finishing the deed. His hold on Inigo grows tighter still, like a plea to hear him beyond his words. "Where we're about to go..." His throat bobs. "It's not going to be pleasant. But I have to do this because if I don't, no one else will." Roland is convinced the other four in that trip held different convictions about what they all witnessed, and he might just be the only man to feel that this had to be done; a sense of closure not just for her, but for Roland too. He's trapped in the thick of his own spiraling mind, even now with Inigo as his beacon of light. The darkness is a fog that has blanketed him since that day, and it has only grown stronger since.

"Knowing that...do you still want to come with me?" He finally says, and there was little doubt that should Inigo want to turn back and leave, Roland wouldn't have thought any less of him. But at the same time, Roland remembers all the things Inigo has told him; a child of war, a child forced to grow up with a sword in his hand and survival on the agenda. He's had to kill people turned risen from Grima, and that meant...that meant maybe he had to complete that circle too. So Roland knows he wasn't protecting Inigo from anything. This could be nothing for him, in fact.

Maybe that's why a part of him wishes Inigo will stay. Maybe Roland knows deep down, he really would have hated to do this alone.

[flatteries]

"Of course I do." Roland could have told him just about anything right now, and Inigo would have given him the same answer. Unwavering. His hesitation from a moment ago had nothing to do with himself, after all. There are far scarier things he has done than merely just going out into the jungle together with his father, than traveling back to the spot where all the misery born from this mission had begun.

No, the hesitation is only for Roland's sake. Because Inigo is so, so worried about him. A worry that has sunk down straight into his bones ever since that day.

"Leaving you alone would be the worst possible thing to do right now." And he's not afraid to voice that worry out loud like this. Maybe to make Roland realise that it's okay. That it's alright to ask for his company, rather than keep giving Inigo chances to stop, to turn back, over and over and over. That even if Roland said Inigo, please stay with me no matter what, Inigo's answer would still be an unwavering yes.

He sucks in a breath, making sure to meet Roland's gaze, no matter whether or not the other can hold it.

"I'm not afraid, father. I'm just worried for you."

[adregem]

"..."

He doesn't know what else to say to that. It's his fault for making Inigo worry. It's his fault that the ministry might be on to them because he left messages in bottles, idiotic sentiment that he didn't mean to jeopardize their entire well-being. The guilt that affronts Roland is so strong that he can't say a word, paralyzed from the feeling. It's the same kind that returns night after night, remembering the number of lives - millions upon millions - sacrificed in nuclear fire all because he failed, somewhere along the way. Here, a mirror image though of a smaller scale. He has to shake it off, he has to continue to move forward as he had promised himself a long time ago...but it's getting harder and harder to do so. The weight is pulling him down. He's beginning to see a darkness he had not glimpsed at before.

He has never been more grateful for Inigo's constant presence. For always choosing to stay by his side. For reading him so well even though he's prided himself on an unreadable face. Inigo is right. This was not the time to have Roland wander by his lonesome, despite how much he desires to go by himself.

Roland swallows down his silence and nods to Inigo heavily, before moving with a renewed sense of purpose to the designated spot. He perks his ears up for any wayward robots that might have had the night shift, but moreso for the crunch of his companion's footsteps that follow sure and steady. They have since passed the clearing where Tidus and Inigo find Roland, and are now approaching the beginning of the ping where the adventure first began...and Inigo will only need to glance up at the trees to see more moonlight flooding their senses. Canopies of trees, branches bent and broken, leading far deeper into the jungle thicket than Inigo might have expected. Roland only stops for a moment to tilt his head up at the night sky revealed by an empty patch of ruined flora, closing his eyes, before turning back and waiting on Inigo so they can continue the walk.

It wouldn't be much longer, now. The path of destruction led to the task at hand.

[flatteries]

The jungle is different like this.

It's not the first time Inigo sees it darker than during the day. With him being the way he is, he's definitely pushed the time he was supposed to go back to camp multiple times under the guise of doing one thing more, and then another, and then another. He's seen it like this before.

But tonight it feels different. Maybe it's the atmosphere making everything seem a bit darker. Maybe Roland's silence is making the other sounds and sights around them only more apparent.

But it feels lonely under this moonlight.

And as if sensing that feeling, there's a light shining from Inigo's chest, and then Jumblie being held up by his arms a moment later. Roland may not notice it at first, if he's trusting the sound of Inigo's footsteps rather than the sight of him, but once he does look back when he's waiting for Inigo, he'll doubtlessly see the little sunshine creature in his arms.

Inigo doesn't say anything. Even as he briefly stops by Roland's side. The only thing that happens is that Jumblie climbs out of his arms, instead climbing up on Roland's shoulder to sit there. She also doesn't make a sound. Maybe it's just that Inigo and her silently agreed that Roland needs a bit more of her presence right now.

He keeps walking, this time not needing Roland's guidance to know where they're going. The destruction truly is like a path that leads them.

[adregem]

Roland's only warning of Jumblie's light comes from a flash that momentarily shocks him, bright and warm in his periphery. Higgledies barely weight a thing, but true to what they are, when they choose you, when they are asked to help, it is near impossible to ignore their presence. And hers is one he is familiar with; she tilts her head resembling the sun from side to side, as if beckoning him to breathe, to trust that if he falls too far into the shadows, Jumblie can save him. Inigo can reach out, if Roland asks, if he cries out to him.

His mouth quirks up by the corner in acknowledgment of the gesture Inigo grants him, how it mimics what Roland wished for when he gave him the higgledy in the first place. A source of joy; of pure light. Roland raises a finger to touch her cheek, and she coos quietly, a sound that's barely there but still he catches it close to his ear, reverberating deep within. But Inigo is walking ahead of him now, and there is no time to waste even with the renewed spirit lent for the moment. So he walks, one step forward, roles suddenly reversed. Inigo leads him, knows when to glance up at the trees that carve out the destination. The jungle curves in grotesque ways, the struggle of the fallen one clear even in the hush of moonlight filtering through thick vine and bark.

He continues to tickle Jumblie lightly with one finger wagging up and down, but the rest of him halts, heavy footsteps suddenly made silent.

"Wait." Roland says, a coarseness to his throat as if he had not used his voice in a while. Perhaps that's more true than he might realize, staring ahead of Inigo and crossing the distance to stand side-by-side. Jumblie stands on his shoulder, knowing that now her light would be when Roland needed it the most.

Roland doesn't need to point to it either. They arrive in a battlefield. Every step reveals scorched earth where lasers land and miss their moving targets; trees that stand surrounding them, wooden guardians as a shield to the rest of the world marked by blackened burned holes and signs of weapons drawn, slashed and making a mess. Littered across the ground, robots destroyed, parts of them mauled and sliced and torn apart. A giant teraforming robot lays some ways away, a monument of victory. He remembers the day to the minute. His legs move on their own, and he knows Inigo will come with him.

"We're here."

That is all Roland says, but for the most part, where he stops is nothing but an empty spot, occupied only by a fallen log of a giant tree...

...and a darker than usual shape, a blob by the base of the log, almost as pitch black as the night itself. This is the sight Roland can't tear his eyes away from, and his finger finally stops petting Jumblie on his shoulder.

[flatteries]

The moment Roland tells him to wait, Inigo does. He knows it's got to already be tough enough out here for Roland, even with Jumblie's help. The least he can do is make sure he isn't doing anything that worries the other, like wandering straight into something Roland wouldn't want him near.

So he stands there, waiting for Roland to catch up with him.

Staring at what's ahead without any particular expression on his face. It's just.. this is so familiar. Even with the jungle and the robots, things he had never seen before the train happened to him, the general sight is too familiar. Battle. Destruction. Just how many times has Inigo seen this at this point? Enough to tell himself he's numb to it.

Or just pretend like he is.

This must be where Roland watched that person they found die. Slowly, through knowledge of that and knowledge of what Roland is like, Inigo can imagine what the other is about to do. (The only difference being that there's no body to bury, which is exactly what Inigo thought Roland was going to do - did someone beat them here? Can Inigo just not spot it in the middle of this darkness?)

If he's worried about anything in this situation, it's making things worse for Roland. So he doesn't speak up, not right away. It's only when he realises staying quiet would probably make the man even more worried that Inigo speaks.

"Father." His voice doesn't betray even the slightest bit of emotion either. Which may be rare - compared to what Roland is used to from the boy - but it's actually something he's really good at. Something he's done so often, exactly in these kinds of situations. It makes even Jumblie go quiet for a moment on Roland's shoulder. "Tell me what I can do to help."

With whatever it is that Roland wanted to do. Inigo can help. He doesn't mind - whatever it is, he's sure he can carry it, mentally speaking.

[adregem]

In time, Roland will come to realize that what he asked of Inigo was selfish. In time, Roland will understand that Inigo was just a child when he was forced into a hellscape where man against man are pitted against each other under the influence of an evil so great, Inigo had to grow up decades beyond his time. Inigo, having to fight those who loved. Forced to lead a life that led to his own erasure - that's the Inigo of the future, now. If only Roland were stronger. If only he could have turned him down.

But tonight, there is no room for him to doubt that Inigo knew exactly what he was doing. He looks too comfortable walking around like this, taking such confidence from a scene that inspired none of it, should not give him strength. It is a testament of both his history and his growth; but Roland is scared of what to acknowledge first. That Inigo, his sweet, kind, loving, generous one, cutting a stark figure in the darkness as if he's lived there all along. That it was Inigo to guide him here. Roland swallows thick, taking Jumblie by the breadth of her body and setting her down gently on the ground. She looks up at him, as if the perfect reflection of Inigo's own request of him; tell me what I can do to help. Her light is bright, so so bright, and he wonders if Jumblie will know where to cast her rays even if they no longer share a bond.

The spot is calling to him. Roland's features grow sallow and weary when he turns to Inigo, but he's already moving his arms to take the bag slung across his shoulder, not even bothering to keep anything in the hammerspace. One day, he will apologize for making Inigo go through this again. One day, he will make amends to them all. For everything he's done.

One day.

"Look for stones. Big. Small. Any you can find." He walks in reverence to the designated splotch, and now up close with Jumblie following his steps, the light reveals what needs not to be said out loud; the stench of dried and rotting blood remains as an almost permanent stain on the ground. He keeps his eyes focused on it as the bag drops to the side, its zipper half-opened. Roland moves faster and faster now, as if invigorated by the ghastly sight. The fallen log that pinned her legs - that had to go. He takes off the first layer of his outerwear and begins to push with the strength of his legs first, thighs working on overtime, until it begins to budge.

It's enough physical labor to distract him from the heavy words that spill out of his lips.

"We're going to make a funeral mound."

[flatteries]

So Inigo was right as to why exactly Roland came here. It's no surprise, really. After all, Roland wouldn't be sneaking out by himself at night if what he was going to do was something he'd want other people to be present for. No, this is exactly the sort of thing he'd push others away over to take the duty entirely upon his own shoulders. Exactly the sort of thing Roland would feel like he had to do, like it was his responsibility, even though he wasn't the only one who encountered that person out here between the trees.

Isn't that just exactly what Roland is like? Compassionate to a fault. Responsible to a fault.

Inigo is glad he followed him, doesn't even want to think about what might have happened if Roland was out here by himself. This is the kind of thing Inigo is used to, but Roland? Judging from what he heard about both of the worlds Roland is used to, neither sounds like the kind of place where you'd have to do this very often.

So he knows he has to pick some slack here even more. It's why the boy immediately goes to work. There's no whining or complaining in the slightest as he starts looking across the jungle floor for rocks, carrying them over to where Roland is working, not saying a word even over the big ones that are heavy to carry. There are no tears.

- I've done this so many times now, I barely feel anything at all. -

Words he's spoken before, the reminder that Inigo knows how to deal with this, knows how to try and turn off his much too loving heart. The only way to get by while arguing with the others back home about how they had to burn the bodies of the villagers who died just to prevent them from becoming Risen. But does Roland know how to do it? How badly must his father be hurting right now, even if he's trying hard to not let it show?

Inigo just keeps bringing over rocks, the pile of them slowly growing, but in his heart he encourages Jumblie to stay with Roland, to do anything she can for him, even if it's just providing company, or some lightness - literal or metaphorical.

And so she does. Even though it's not like it'll help a thing, Jumblie also pushes against the log with her tiny, stumpy arms. If not just for the adorable sight, or just to give Roland the feeling and the knowledge that he's not alone in it.

[adregem]

Roland pauses as the log moves only by the inch, wasting more energy and time than he's actually making progress on. The sight of Jumblie moving about, pushing in place, does remind him that there are better ways to go about this. The smile that graces his stony look breaks the monotony of having to repeat the same thought over and over again; that no one else from that group would have done this, already too preoccupied with the messages Halo left behind rather than thinking of the person herself. He doesn't blame them for it. He won't ask them to return here. Roland however, is cut from a cloth more traditional. You don't just hold someone's hand as they die and not think of honoring them, their last wish. You can't just fall asleep and not do your part.

And doesn't she deserve it? The woman who thought it pertinent to leave behind one last thing for whoever finds her, one last clue to the puzzle, but cushioning it with her desire to live. They all had that in common, whether or not they could admit it to themselves. And more than that, Halo wanting to be remembered.

No one else would know. She had been erased from the void's narrative, no matter how in love she was with the chaos. Halo is gone and her people too. Her planet existing only as her final words are recorded in an SCA filled with opera and hard rock. It's hurting Roland in places no one will ever understand. The heaviness that can consume you when you give your entire being to loving your nation, then having it taken from you without anyone to remember it was ever there at all. Then, being responsible for its downfall because you failed -

"Light up a path, Jumblie."

He whispers to her, barely audible as wind from open patches above the treetops swoops in to grant them cool air. The higgledy makes a cute pose that might not be appropriate for the moment, but he smiles at her regardless, knowing Inigo is telling her to stay. To make him happy even now. She skips over to the front of the log, and in tandem, guides Roland as he kicks the log further and further out. Jumblie splits into a couple more of her little ones to form a pathway of light, the log following it dutifully, before enough space can be granted for the said mound.

He stops and looks behind him. Then, he meets Inigo's gaze just as he sets down another stone on the pile. Roland can't even tell him what happened to her body. It's too soon. He doesn't know what words to borrow, where to get it from. He's not over trying to remind himself that Inigo won't be the same, he won't let him suffer this fate worse than actually dying, this is disappearing.

Roland breathes in heavy and returns to the higgledies, nodding once in silent gratitude. Wordlessly, he goes to the exact same spot he knelt in days before, where he bears witness to her life once shining bright, and now, no longer. His hands try to smoothen out the ground, uncovering even darker stained patches of blood as her legs give out despite Koumyou's assistance. That it was all fruitless to begin with. Roland has reached a state of total stoicism, just wanting to clean the area and get it over with.

This was his living nightmare, after all. Burying them. His people. His country. The father burying his child. Except there are never any bodies left for him to hold. They all disappear, whether in light, or in ash.

Roland fails to realize his hands are in slight tremble. And that there is no more grass, leaves, or vines left to clear out.

[flatteries]

Even here, in the dark, it's hard to not see how Roland's hands are trembling.

How everything about him is trembling, really. How utterly shaken up the man is by this entire experience. It's that fact that makes it so very clear to Inigo. Roland isn't used to this. This isn't the sort of thing he had to do. (And isn't that only logical? Most people wouldn't have to. Most people would never end up in this kind of situation to begin with.)

Inigo silently kneels down next to Roland, putting his hands on top of the man's. Trying to force them to still, or at least feel the steadying presence of Inigo's calm hands against his own.

Roland shouldn't have to do this. Someone who is used to do this should do it. Someone who's already been ruined in the first place.

"Father." He says at first, and then, more insistently, "Roland."

Usually it goes the other way around. Him starting out with the other's name, only to resort to using the more affectionate way of calling him 'father' to draw his attention. But this situation isn't about that. It isn't about Inigo's usual softness. He's already forced it deep down.

He nudges the hands as if to move them out of the way.

"It's alright. Step back." It's not quite a command or an order, since Inigo wouldn't do that to Roland of all people, but it still sounds like he doesn't want to argue about this. Like he's sure about this. "Just tell me how exactly you wanted to do it. I'll do it."

This is nothing to him, after all. He can't even see a body right now. How bad can a funeral mound be then? It doesn't compare to the sheer amount of people he's killed with his own hands, the blood he's had on his hands. The bodies he had to dispose of. This is where Inigo's meant to be. What he's meant to do. It's a cross he can easily carry for someone as important to him as his own adoptive father.

It's noticable about him too. There's no hesitation, no shyness. There's nothing about this what usually makes Inigo Inigo. Even his eyes are just filled with nothing but hard conviction.

[adregem]

He freezes for a second, as if he had just been awoken from a nightmare. Suddenly things clear up, and he can hear the vibrations in the wind, the jungle insects stirring awake in the nighttime, with Inigo's hands on his. Except - except things aren't quite what they are. There's a frost that settles between them, chilling him upon hearing Inigo's voice cut through to the heart of the matter. Roland's breath is caught in his throat. Daring to look up at those eyes, once gentle and kind, now hardened and ready to dive into hell itself.

He stares at the outline of Inigo's face, prominent features made sharper, older in the peak of moonlight. He doesn't like this. He doesn't like what he sees; what Inigo morphs into. But this was another face he needed to see, wasn't it? Roland has gotten so used to Inigo, his adopted, someone to save, someone to protect, that he can't quite reconcile the Inigo who needed to survive. Inigo, having to bury friends and foe alike every single day, worse in Ylisse because he probably had actual bodies to take to the soil.

The guilt in his heart is only compounded by this sight. Roland continues to disappoint himself, his weakness, succumbing to feelings that made him unreliable. It's the feeling he hates the most. And now look what his failings have brought them to tonight - can't even play a role of his own making, forcing Inigo to do a job he set out to do.

He nods only once, and stands. Jumblie glances a look between the two of them, and seems to decide to wait for Inigo's next order. Meanwhile, Roland faces the direction of his discarded bag and makes his way over, throwing his voice out as he moves.

"Clear out all the leaves and twigs so we can make a proper foundation. Three big stones around a couple of small ones should do it. And an outline around the area." He doesn't need to point out which particular area, but as he bends his knees and rummages through the duffel, Roland pauses for a second to add one last thing.

"...Leave half for me."

He can't. He can't make him do it even if he's used to it. He just can't.

"Please."

[flatteries]

Relief settles in his heart the moment he notices Roland standing up. Inigo thought the other would put up more of a protest about this, knowing how protective Roland is of him - and it's not like he wants to fight. Not with Roland, not ever, but especially not now, when they're all alone in the dark jungle, when Roland is facing the demons of that other day, the day when he went off the radar and returned with a darkness in his eyes unlike anything Inigo had seen before.

So he easily follows the instructions. The man already cleared out most of the area, Inigo notices, so he stands up to drag the rocks he gathered over towards the spot, putting them down in the way Roland explained to him.

Inigo glances off to the side, only to see Jumblie looking back at him - if anyone can sense what's going on in his heart right now, it's her. And he knows it. It's why he gives her a very small apologetic smile, knowing Roland won't see it anyway with the way his back is turned towards him. He's half-tempted to ask her to go back inside of him, but she hops closer before he can do so, as if she's determined to at least let her light illuminate his work.

And Inigo silently accepts that.

He thought he was going to do this all silently, honestly, until Roland speaks up.

It makes him pause for a moment, but then he moves a few more rocks, done with the big ones, starting to add the smaller ones around.

"It's alright. I don't mind this." And indeed, there is nothing in his tone to suggest he minds it. Mostly since right now there is very little in his tone in general. It's just calm, a bit lower than usually. An odd tightness around the very edges.

He finishes putting down those stones, and it's then that he sucks in a breath and looks back, over at Roland. Probably knowing the other won't be able to accept just those words, not under these circumstances.

".. It's hard for you, father. I could see it, and that's.. that's just normal." It's how any regular person would act upon having to do something like this, Inigo thinks. "But it's not for me. That's why I can carry this burden for you. I'm just glad to be able to do something for you, even if it's in this way."

[adregem]

"...Please." He asks again. "I have to honor her memory too."

He stands, holding something in both hands. He shakes his head, determined even when Inigo can't see his eyes, his face. The lilt in his response is so weighted, it could pull both of them down into a crashing orbit. He's begging, he doesn't want this. He doesn't want Inigo to lift a burden that Roland took on willingly, it isn't right. He's already done so much in his short life, this doesn't have to be another burial Inigo makes on his own. Not when Roland is the one who asked, who wanted this.

If it's hard on him, it's only because Halo's face is easily replaceable; in one minute, it's her, in the next, it's Inigo disappearing because the train is destroyed and he's at the foot of the chaos. Roland hasn't processed it totally, hasn't stayed up enough chasing the shadows that lead to this violent end. For now, all he can do is provide peace to a soul departed from the void, wherever such souls should go after void crafts can no longer save them from death. But more than that, it's in the final wish to make sure she's not erased completely. That if anyone else should come here, in this very spot where she once lay, more void missionaries might think to come and remember her too.

He crosses the distance again, kneeling on the opposite side of the mound forming from rock and ground. The item from the bag is revealed in open view as it lays beside his knees - two thin branches tied up in twine to form a cross, or maybe just an 'x' to mark the spot, with a third spike down the middle ready to dig deep into the earth. Face down, a wooden makeshift plaque obviously fashioned from old bits and pieces found in solar stations and jungle flora littered every which way...but the writing is yet unclear, hidden from sight.

Without another word, Roland helps Inigo with the rocks closest to his person, arranging the upper half of the mound in a similar fashion. His hands are not shaking from the inside, not anymore, not when he glances up at Inigo from time to time, as if daring an apology that will never his lips. Not now, when they're in the throes of their own little bubbles of misery.

[flatteries]

Inigo doesn't argue back. Maybe he knows it'd just be a futile endeavour when Roland sounds like this. When Inigo already knows he's not going to back down, no matter what - in his opinion, rather logical - arguments Inigo puts forth.

So he just lets Roland join in again as they silently work on getting the rest of the rocks into formation. Even though it isn't the best idea, even though it just makes Inigo worry what kind of dark clouds must be passing through the other's mind. He's never been good at this. Inigo could go through hell and back by himself and not complain a single moment, but the instant he had someone else by his side throughout all of it, he'd just worry about them.

.. It's the same as back then. In Irivar. If Reno had just beaten him up, then he probably wouldn't have cared much. But it had been the fact that Roland was right there in the fight with him that filled Inigo's heart with worry for his wellbeing.

Although this time, it's not Roland's physical health that's on the line. Instead it's his mental health. His emotions. How much more can a soul like Roland's bear, one that has already had to face the death of a nation?

It's hard to tell whether or not Inigo notices any of the glances Roland is throwing his way. Every time the man looks over, Inigo seems entirely consumed by the act of building the mound, not looking up from the rocks he's picking up and putting down at all.

He only speaks up when they're all out of rocks.

"I think this part is done like this."

[adregem]

"This too."

He stands again, looking at the mound with a keen eye. Details that shouldn't even matter are assessed as if there was something on the line, but Roland wouldn't disrespect someone that way; he'd go all the way. Taking everything into account, from his own work at the top half of the mound to the bottom, where Inigo has masterfully placed three rocks in ascending size one on top of the other. It's looking exactly how it should, even if he doesn't exactly have a picture of it in his mind's eye. He bends down again to grab the makeshift branches tied up together, and when it's turned over, there's writing on the horizontal panel of wood, fashioned out of bark cut from the jungle itself. The darkness obscures what it might be, but Jumblie may be able to shed light on it some. Words that don't wax poetic, though it's an aside about how straight to the point they are. Roland means only one thing with the memorial, and that's to accomplish her final wish: that she did not leave this world without anyone knowing who she was.

'Here rests the great void traveler, Captain Halo of the Voidflash.
A proud Enraran, from System#1015.
Thank you.'

He weighs it in his hand, looking down at it now with only a hint of hesitation. Was this good enough? Was this going to help someone be at peace, wherever they were now? After all they've been through? Would this be a remembrance worth keeping on an alien planet he had no business being in at all? Roland breathes in deep. This is the best he can do. He can only hope it's befitting the gesture, or the kindness of circumstance granted to five Voidtreckers who didn't know what they were meant to find that day.

"Come on." Roland offers his other hand to Inigo, to help him up. He does this more often now, masking the idea of helping him to his feet when really, it seems he might just be indulging the act of holding hands. It used to be something Inigo yearned from him before, but in these moments, when he has very little to ground his own thoughts, the roles reverse and its his turn to want it. To want a hand to hold, to remind him of what is, what else he has to fight for now. "Help me install this?"

[flatteries]

Inigo does manage to read the sign. In fact, before he even tries to do so, Jumblie is already moving over - right to a position where she can cast her light on it, as if wanting to draw the boy's attention in that direction. And so he does look at it, read it.

.. there's a surprising amount of information on it. Maybe nothing too personal, but.. her name, her ship, the place she came from. It makes Inigo wonder just how much Roland was able to talk to her before she died. Is that why he came back, why he felt the obligation to do this? Because it made him know who she was?

As the thoughts are still swirling around in his head, Inigo's gaze shifts. He looks at the empty hand held out to him, and Inigo wordlessly takes it. Though even something about that is a bit different from usually. Not in the way he holds the hand tight, as if wanting to reassure Roland that he is here, but more in the way he does it so stoically. There's no smile, nor the usual bounciness. Inigo doesn't even attempt to just straight up move to cling to Roland's arm, like he often does.

This time the physical contact is all for Roland, after all. Inigo is giving here, not taking. He's just here to try and be the wall that can - if not at least partially - protect his father from all of this.

"Of course," he speaks up, only by then, when he's risen back up on his feet. "Where did you want to put it?"

It's Roland's memorial for this captain Halo, after all. It was his idea to come here to honour her, so Inigo wants to at least leave that decision up to the other.

[adregem]

"Right here. It'll be impossible to miss."

The planks replace what would have been a headstone. It isn't a particularly heavy piece of wood either, but Roland isn't reaching out because he can't do it himself. When his hand lets go of Inigo's to focus on the task, it misses the usual grip, the tightening of fingers around his that remind him of his presence. Instead, he silently asks for him to take the other side, its width long enough to cover an arms length and a half. Shabby yet earnest; he's no craftsman, but it isn't here to look pretty. There's some general directing that passes between them - move it more to the left, yes like that, then press it deep...now - and it's a task that takes them less time than the arrangement of stones and sticks beneath the marker.

Done. It's done. His breaths come in huffs as he makes his way around the funeral mound, the act of building it finally settling into his bones like a chill that won't go away no matter how strongly he sets his sights unto the words he had etched himself. One step, two, three; and he's in front of it now, arms crossed over his chest in a daze.

Death has always lingered close by. He's encountered it intimately even before he ever thought magic, fiends, and revenant kingdoms could actually exist outside of fairy tales. Both members of his family have met and greeted Death itself, and by extension, the rest of his charge; the country he pledged himself to serve until the last of his term. Death has knocked on Roland's door plenty of times; and so this, what they've done, what he bore witness to, it's not this. It is not Halo's passing that forces his eyes to see only what is before him, wrapped in darkness with no dawn in sight.

No, his reasons were much simpler. Seeing this, a grave he envisioned and helped to build, almost seemed like the manifestation of his wildest fear come true. The Roland who has damned; the Roland who has failed. The worst part of him, nagging and tugging as it must be acknowledged - one day, your hands will bury everyone on this train because you could not make the right decisions. One day these graves will multiply and you will be there to lower every single one of them down.

His fist clenches. His exhale is audible.

"Will you remember her?" Her name? He utters these words as if he is speaking to the wind, but Roland knows Inigo will catch them. Take them to heart. "That's all she wanted, in the end." He closes his eyes, watching the fading gold light on her body finally drift up into the red sky.

[flatteries]

Inigo stares at their final result. Quiet. Thinking.

Will you remember her?

He thinks back to mass graves in Ylisse. He thinks back on the Risen, too far gone to tell him their name, who they were, their dreams. Does he remember all of their faces? There's just no way. He's watched so many people die, sometimes by his hands. It's too many to remember even just the faces of every single individual.

He thinks back on his mother's grave, where they didn't even have the opportunity to make it a nice and proper grave, to give her a real headstone.

".. I will," he slowly says, even as he thinks he doesn't have the right. But if it's all she wanted, then what choice does he have? All Inigo can do is try to keep giving everything he has, in the hope that it will one day get better, even with the trail of death he's already left behind him.

Inigo doesn't step away from the memorial though. This is more for Roland than him, after all. So Roland is the one who makes the choice as to when they leave, as to how much time he needs here.

In the meantime Inigo will just stay here. Standing next to the other. Being there - if not just so Roland isn't alone in his darkest moments.

But letting a respectful silence linger otherwise.

[adregem]

"Dream big. Travel far. She said that too. Heh. Wise words, if not a little corny."

Roland cracks a small smile, dark humor more than anything. It's an awfully quiet night in the jungle of Nion, whereas his days were filled with endless static and the noise that rang in his ears when communications came crashing down and all they could pick up was her distress call. He realizes Inigo might have realized that. With both of them, Tidus too and the way Roland had snubbed his efforts to heal him, even after they seemed to be looking for him after everything was over...It isn't a moment that ages well for Roland, leaving a sour taste in his mouth. He hates that he lost his composure. Hates that for a rare moment in his life, he was so shaken that he forgot who he is, that staying calm must be the priority at all times. Especially in times of trouble.

But the look they gave him. Tidus was hurt. Inigo was confused. That was the worst of them all. He treated them so poorly, for what? Caring?

They must have been trying to get in touch with him then, but like the other four in his party, couldn't. And all he could do was rebuke them, rebuff them like a fool.

Roland's profile comes into Inigo's view, his head angled such that he could see him partially, even with higgledy light from beneath. There's a sense of shame that washes over him, one that he doesn't try to hide.

"I'm sorry. For what I did."

Not this, not digging up another grave, though it warrants an apology all the same. Roland is speaking from the lens of another notch in time, and it's clear he's not talking about the proverbial burial of a body that isn't even there anymore.

"I'm sorry that I behaved poorly, the day you and Tidus found me." The formality is a mask he wears expertly - it's easy to fall back into it when guilt threatens to swallow him whole once again. "I won't let it happen again. I swear to you."

[flatteries]

When Roland starts apologizing, Inigo knows that it isn't about the here and now, not when he's saying 'for what I did'. He still doesn't pinpoint the exact moment Roland is talking about at first though, that only comes when he continues, elaborates. Making it very obvious what he's talking about.

And it feels very easy to recall that day. Mostly while he's standing here in the dark jungle, while he's so close to the spot where they found Roland, when they're right at the spot that caused Roland's distress in the first place. He remembers the worry, the sheer panic that gripped him when he realised he couldn't contact the man who had been telling him to stay in touch with him so frantically the entire mission. He remembers them rushing towards him the fastest they could, he remembers the look on Roland's face, the words rolling out of his mouth.

Sure, it wasn't an easy moment, but to hear an apology from Roland for it.. That just feels wrong. Inigo's fingers slowly clench into fists at his side.

"You shouldn't apologize for feeling panicked. For being unable to stop that feeling from making you act a certain way." Inigo doesn't look at Roland as he's speaking, even though he can spot a glimpse of the other out of the corner of his eye. Instead he looks ahead, right at the funeral mound they built. "You're not infallible. You shouldn't have to be."

Even if he's the president. Even if he's Inigo's father. Roland is still a person. And though kings being people too is a concept Inigo still struggles with, he's been able to adjust to it at least a tad thanks to his interactions with Gyousou.

"If you want to apologize to anyone.. then you should probably say sorry to Tidus. I think he was pretty hurt when you reacted that way to him offering to heal you. Maybe it made him feel like there was something wrong with him specifically." Though it might be Inigo projecting a little. It's how he would have felt in Tidus's shoes. But even so - he can't help but be a little protective of the other, no matter how Tidus usually acts. He's had his feelings bruised enough for them to be poked at again.

He shakes his head, finally turning it to look at Roland. It's like the Brand in his eye is reflecting the moonlight cast down upon them, filtered by the leaves above.

"But I'm.. I'm fine. I'm used to this."

People panicking, unsure of what to do. Not having anyone or anything to fall back on - having to fend for himself, make his own decisions.

"I belong here." Among death, among panic. The way he's spent most of his life. "I almost forgot that while fooling around on the train."

[adregem]

The apology to Tidus is long overdue. Roland doesn't need to be told twice either; it's a thought that's lingered in his head the first moment he had to himself. The both of them needed to know that he didn't want it. He didn't want to react the way that he did, and it felt like an out of body experience where he knew the right thing to do, the right words to say, but couldn't. His body refused. His mind willed it, but his heart had the final say. The fear, the adrenaline rush, the panic that he's never experienced at its fullest extent, not for a while, not in a long time.

He's learning, even at his age. Or at his current disposition. Whatever or whoever he's becoming in the void, all Roland knows is he doesn't get infinite chances no matter what the void crafts might grant them. He has a third chance at a life well-lived, so he can't make impulsive decisions like that again. Especially at the cost of seeing someone get hurt, the way he did to them. The two who think of him more often than he's ever expected anyone to; the two who give him gifts and call him names and confide in him when they can.

The two of them who remind him that there are things to live for apart from the job or the work he's chained himself to, regardless of place or time.

But this was not so much a moment of compounding guilt as it was an offering of mutual comfort. Roland's own feelings slowly simmer down, seeing the mound completed; a peace that he had hoped would come, does. And it's Inigo's words which give him a boost, a jolt back into life. It could have been a knee jerk reaction, the words ready to catapult back to Inigo, but he takes his time instead. He turns around fully, catching that stare, holding this vision to memory.

It's unnatural. He need only to see it from behind closed lids; a boy this young, handsome and kind, forcing himself to fight every day in a battlefield that was brought about by circumstance of birth and curse. Who has given his entire being to slaying a beast that would erase him from his own narrative. It's unnatural, it's unfair. Roland won't have it.

He shakes his head without breaking gaze, though for once, he withholds himself from taking a step forward to bridge the distance. They're closer than they've ever been anyway; united in the field of death and despair, worlds tinged in red, the sky always aflame.

"No. No you don't." He declares softly, but with purpose, with push. Then, when it seems like he won't say anymore, Roland's head tilts up just a tad, looking through the ruined canopies. This he can say with confidence; how easy it is to imagine Inigo somewhere else. Somewhere far, far away.

"You belong under the sun. With...with big trees up above, and lots of leaves dancing in the wind." Like when he taught him in Irivar, how to nap on a mission even if he's never once let his guard down before, not on the job. Inigo did that. Inigo taught him how to be at peace. "You belong where the flowers are. Flowers in every shape and size and color. You belong there. Not here."

Dare he say it?

Roland promised, though. Would he hold back now, after seeing him build headstones from debris, not a single emotion flitted on his face?

"...You belong with me, hopefully. When I figure out how to save my home. That's...that's what I believe in, at least. You belong with us." Plural. With people. With friends. Away from this choking darkness of the world. More than anything, Inigo deserves to hear Roland's earnest feelings, even as he turns away, hoping he can pull him back up to better memories. He did this to Inigo, at the end of the day. He made his son responsible for a grave after knowing how much he's already had to make all on his own.

[flatteries]

The words render him quiet for a few moments. Not staring at Roland anymore, even as the other speaks. Instead Inigo's gaze is glued on the grave in front of them, on the sign.

The other speaks of flower fields, and that's something Inigo would easily refute. Because he's left those behind so long ago. Like the flower fields he used to prosper in, the ones he played in every day as a very young child, were left behind in his heart the moment his mother died, the moment everything turned to ash and destruction. Ylisse was no longer a place for flowers, and so there no longer was any place left for them in Inigo's steeled heart either.

But it's not all Roland is talking about. Inigo hears the rest too, catches those last words.

It's those that make him look back at the other again. Because as much as Inigo would like to refute the words, feels like he must keep carrying this dark burden for everyone's sake..

.. he wants them to be true. He wants that to be it so badly. That he has a place to belong out there. With Roland.

"Can I really..?" His voice is a bit more quiet, only audible due to the stillness of the night.

And really, it's not the kind of question Roland should answer as much as Inigo should answer it for himself - but considering the older guy has filled up the position of his father so naturally, it comes like instinct to ask him that. Like he's asking for permission, for confirmation, only barely managing to surpress the desperation that wells up in his heart. Is it really alright for him to ever step back, to no longer carry the burdens of the entire multiverse on his back?

Despite what he said a moment ago, he wants better times. So badly. And more importantly, he wants better times together with Roland. Both of them being able to be happy, rather than stand here on a dark planet in front of a funeral mound without a body.

[adregem]

He shouldn't promise him anything, really. There's nothing he can control, everything in his life after the nuke hit slowly turning into a chance roulette. Did he have a say in reappearing in the second world after death knocked at his door? No. Did he get to decide that his soul was to be split into two, mirror images where one is inextricably linked to the other? No. Did he have a choice about being abducted by a void train, hell bent on forcing good people to play hero without asking? Absolutely not.

Yet here he is, unable to stop himself from answering Inigo with his bleeding heart, wanting it for everyone he's ever cared for even if he knows he can't guarantee a thing.

"Yes. You can." There's not a hint of hesitation in that breath of an answer, not as he stares into his eyes and resists the urge to comfort him with the language he knows best, arms around him to warm him from the outside in. But tonight, perhaps such a gesture would do Roland more good than Inigo. Still, he remains planted where he is, with only a pivot to face him fully. "I hope one day you can believe it as much as I do. Take your time. I'll wait for you. Okay?"

His smile lifts from one corner, small yet fond all the same. Long has Inigo told him he doesn't think he deserves such an ending, or a future where he can be happy with all the things he's had to do to survive, but he's a hero more than Roland ever will be. His decision to end his own timeline so that the past can grow in peace leaves him in admiration to this day; yes, Inigo is the most deserving of a future on his own terms. Once and for all. Happiness, because it is the only reward befitting of sacrifice.

May the good captain's spirit be the final witness to Roland's resolve to take them with him no matter where he might be flung to next.

[flatteries]

Inigo stares at Roland for a few more moments. Maybe because this is more like the Roland he's used to - one at the ready with a smile, who can say those sorts of things so confidently. Or maybe it's since Inigo is wishing so hard that someone out there would hear this. Not Naga, since he knows he's far beyond her reach at this point, but if there's any god out there listening, any other force.. Please, please let this somehow come true. He's never asked for much before, so if there's one thing he can have..

Slowly Inigo's gaze moves back over to the rocks with the sign. Still quiet, still thinking.

His gaze turns to Roland.

"Do you.. want to stay here for a bit longer?" The choice is up to him. Roland was the one who wanted to come out here in the first place, after all. Inigo will stay here with him for as long as the other needs. "Or do you want to go back?"

[adregem]

He looks back at the funeral mound in heavy silence. Eyes draw to a close as he recites something quietly, words only spoken inwardly. If he could, he would whisper his gratitude, and that he hopes wherever void souls go, they go to places of peace and rest. No more tethering, no more crafts or ministries to run away. No more disappearing as if they had never been born. Only happiness, and home.

Roland opens his eyes once more, and he salutes solemnly, the straight of his hand reaching the top of his brow. Afterwards, he turns back to Inigo, tired lines marking a face that had no business looking as old as he feels or actually is. But he's still trying, bridging the gap and reaching out for him with fingers splayed gently. Roland jerks his head backwards, softly.

"Come on. We gotta go." And perhaps he means that in more ways than one. But whether or not Inigo actually takes that hand or not, or if he tugs him forward back into the thick of trees and jungle, Roland will stop him for a minute, his gaze heavy. "Can you just do me one more favor? If it's not too much to ask?"

If in other days he would have reacted differently, perhaps as shy as a man like him would ever allow someone else to see, regardless if it's Inigo, tonight he was not quite that person. Roland's smile is an attempt all on its own, far from happy, just searching for sympathies he knows he doesn't deserve.

"Is it all right if I can sleep by your side, tonight?"