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The Forgotten City lived up to its name in many senses. It was ancient, abandoned, and very empty. Only three lonely souls inhabited it now, idly planning their next move.
And it was quiet.
Too quiet.
The sharp-eyed sibling paused in his idle fidgeting, hands stilled in the middle of pulling back the hammer of his pistol. Yazoo turned his gaze, eyes narrowing, searching for the source of the discordance that plagued his subconscious. Something was wrong.
His eyes eventually landed on the hulking figure slouched over the edge of the lake, looking down into its abyssal waters. To the untrained eye, one might assume he was simply observing the lake; but Yazoo could see the way his shoulders shook minutely, and his muscles were far too tense for their own good.
Loz’s tears were usually a sign of a dramatic debacle or teases being thrown back and forth between the trio. But this silence, and the way he hid his tears, signified that this was something deeper. Yazoo couldn’t tease Loz at a time like this. Not when he was vulnerable. Fragile.
A small “hm” noise subconsciously left Yazoo, as he always did when he made a realization or a keen observation. Kadaj looked up from where he was leaning against a tree, looking between Yazoo and Loz for a flicker of a moment before looking back down. Through their shared mind link, Yazoo could feel Kadaj giving him a gentle nudge towards Loz.
Yazoo reached behind him and slid his Velvet Nightmare into its holster before stepping towards Loz. His footsteps were silent in the soft, turned soil beneath his feet.
“Loz?” He called out quietly, his head tilting in question.
Loz quickly looked up with a grunt of confusion, but quickly looked away again, wiping his face with his sleeves. In those few seconds of eye contact, Yazoo saw his red, tear-filled eyes. There was no fooling him now. He sat down next to his brother, tucking his knees underneath his coat neatly.
“What’s wrong?” Yazoo asked. There was no use beating around the bush. “Is it Mother?”
Loz shook his head. Yazoo’s eyes widened. That was a first.
Looking down into the water, Loz let his tears slide down his face and drip into the water, creating tiny ripples. He sniffled as he thought of what to say.
“Are we… Doing the right thing?” Loz asked, his voice quiet and meek.
Yazoo closed his eyes for a moment and reached out for Kadaj’s help. Images of angry faces, despaired cries, and screamed insults flashed in his mind. Scared children resurfaced quite a lot. Yazoo wasn’t a fool; in the eyes of humans, they weren’t doing the right thing by a long shot. But in the eyes of mother, they were doing what’s necessary.
“...We are,” Yazoo answered. But even he wasn’t sure he was telling the truth.
Loz pouted and looked at Yazoo through the corner of his eye. “I’m not dumb, Yaz. I know we’re not.”
Yazoo sighed. “We’re doing what’s necessary. If we don’t do this, we won’t see Mother.”
“But-” Loz quickly cut himself off.
But. There was doubt in that statement. And Kadaj hated doubt. Mother hated it even more. The fact that they were even capable of doubting Mother’s will seemed to anger her, so it was best to banish such thoughts altogether.
Of course, this made Loz’s tears worsen. With no words to speak his mind at the risk of punishment, the only thing he could do was cry, to let out the emotions one by one through the tiny droplets.
Yazoo felt an ache in his chest. He quickly pulled his attention to it; a new feeling he was slowly gaining familiarity with. Sadness? Sympathy, maybe? Sympathy sounded right. He wasn’t upset, but Loz was, and that made him upset. The word empathy came to mind, by virtue of Kadaj. Empathy it was then.
He pulled his attention back to Loz. With careful deliberation, Yazoo reached out and wrapped his arms around Loz’s shoulders, pulling him close. Loz immediately returned the gesture, burying his face into Yazoo’s shoulder and crying his heart out. The ache in Yazoo’s chest grew worse, and his grip on Loz tightened slightly. He decided right then and there that he hated empathy.
Even with no words spoken between them, the physical gesture seemed to help Loz. His muscles relaxed, and his sniffles and sobs grew quieter as the moments ticked by. Yazoo tried rubbing circles into his brother’s back, which seemed to help as well. Kadaj even ended up approaching the two and ruffled Loz’s hair; the most affectionate gesture one could get from someone like Kadaj.
Eventually, Loz’s grip went slack, and Yazoo took that as the sign to pull away. Emerald eyes met, and a single, silent thought was shared between the three of them.
At least we have each other.