small scrawling. yes, it is an Ogase one again.

Underneath the dark sky sit two figures: one cloaked, one not. Puffs of fog flit from them, coming and going like conjured mists of weak smoke in the air. With their companions asleep behind them, they could be alone. Like before.

"--times I think about it, you know?" Se is speaking, her eyes fixated up at the stars while her mouth stays on the conversation she and Ogata were currently sharing. "What it'd be like if he hadn't gotten captured. If he came with us."

Ogata grunts in response, his legs shifting around atop the earth with a slight sensation of pins and needles thusly following. "Nikaidou wasn't interested in the gold, regardless." he plainly states, his eyes not up like hers but instead focused ahead on the faraway mountains. "He wouldn't have stayed."

That earns a pensive hum from the woman at his side, who is clearly not satisfied with that but is unsure what else could be said. She knew he was probably right, anyway. A gentle silence falls over them, the distant sounds of restless, needy crickets soon taking precedence over the quiet night. But then Se turns to look into Ogata's face. Or, into the side of it, at least.

"Castar na daoine ar a chéile, ach ní chastar na cnoic." she suddenly says with a hushed voice, a smile softly lifting the edges of her lips.

Ogata looks at her as if she had just laid an ancient and foreign curse on him. "What?"

Se laughs, expecting that. The way he's able to see her face ripen pink even in such minimal moonlighting makes Ogata uncomfortable, so he focuses on the snow-capped peaks again.

"It's an old Irish proverb." she clarifies, "It essentially means that even though the hills are given eternal life, they aren't blessed with the ability of ever getting to know each other. Like mortals are." Her hand comes up to absentmindedly swipe a curly lock of hair behind her ear while she continues to gaze at him.

Unintentionally, he mirrors her; pushing that loose, black strand into his undercut only to have it inevitably jump back down in front of his eyes. He snorts. "And?"

"And," she chuckles, dragging her eyes from him to look up at the twinkling firmament once more. "I'm glad I'm not a hill." Her irises flick right back to him from the side, her chin propping itself up on a fist. "I... am happy to have met you, Ogata."

Ogata freezes, though outwardly it almost seems like he entirely missed what she had said. But he heard her. Unfortunately, perfectly. His attention drops away from the mountains, finding their sight all too ironic now. Something barely audible leaves his mouth he doesn't really want to:

"We're a good team."

Ugh, he thinks. Fuck, he curses in mentalese.

In stark contrast, Se is greatly contented. She knows how much that probably pained him to admit, though, and feels a bit bad. But only a bit. A hearty chuckle escapes her and she gets the strong urge to tease him before she relents, settling on mercy instead. Her hand reaches over to lightly tug at his cloak, hot blood still tingling behind her cheeks. "Share."

Ogata makes an exasperated huff but complies, knowing exactly what she wants from that simple demand. "Move." And then she's suddenly the one obliging him; scooting closer to his side as he drapes the cloth across her, his actions betraying his demeanor when he spends a few, lingering seconds securing it around her shoulders.

There's now only a sole shape seated beneath the sky: the white fabric of a cloak engulfing what was once two distinct figures into one.