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Nights in the Ashen Detective Agency varied in activities. On some days, the detective living there would try his luck on streaming his Insomnia Hotline to earn some extra cash. On other days, the entire place would be covered in mission reports sent over by Pearl or by the Department of Aberration Defense regarding some cases he luckily managed to land. It wasn't much, but it was an honest living.
But lately, Ashveil hadn't been able to do any of his usual gigs.
Many would ask what was happening, but Narrator would only shake his head and turn away any guests. Even the Furbos working at Furbobocom were starting to question the lack of activity, sometimes trying to sneak into the small office for a peek at what juicy secrets he had hidden.
One lucky - or perhaps unlucky? - Furbo by the name of Joolyon managed to slip into the detective's office while Narrator was rejecting a client outside the office. The poor journalist expected to see Ashveil being his usual self or perhaps eating some well-kept snacks (that the Furbo wanted to snatch for themself), but was met with a scene from a horror movie.
The entire room was trashed, papers all over the floor. Even the tiny desk had been flipped, and the items on it were either smashed or scattered. Then, came violent rattling from inside the refrigerator. It started as rhythmic thumping and knocking, but the longer Joolyon stood there, the louder the rattling became. Screams of agony and monstrous growling filled the room, spooking the Furbo enough to make them consider doing fieldwork and not coming back to the office.
"I told you," Narrator shrugged.
After three days, Ashveil finally came out. He looked horrible. Hair all matted and tangled, eyebags formed under those grey-pink eyes. What scared everyone more was the fact that he was bleeding all over, a huge bite mark formed on his shoulder as if a beast had tried to take a chunk out of the detective. Furbos and Monkeys alike scrambled all over the building in search of bandages and mops, wrapping the detective in clean gauze like a mummy.
"I'm fine, you guys," he'd reassure them. Yet his smile never truly reached his eyes.
Narrator shook his head, wiping the dried blood away from Ashveil's forehead. "The shadows... They're getting too violent. We've never seen you battle them for three days straight," he sighed. "Perhaps the last battle had...?"
"Perhaps," Ashveil's lips thinned into a line. He let out a small noise, stuck between a sigh and a click of the tongue. "Shuhu... None of us expected Fulwish to implant parts of Shuhu into the people of Planarcadia. With Yingxing- no, Blade- taking the brunt of the Abundance's powers into his own body, perhaps the leftovers of Shuhu in my shadows also responded to him."
"Then should we ask him about his condition so we can monitor yours?"
"Nah," the detective shook his head. "He's probably busy with the Xianzhou general right now."
With a groan, Ashveil stood up. He'd already bothered the others too much by asking them to tend to his self-inflicted wounds; he shouldn't waste more of their time. Surely Mr. N would prefer having his lunch banana right about now, and the Furbos would be scrambling to write scripts before break time starts, and...
.
.
.
"Mr. Ashveil!"
It was the same dream all over again.
The sight of his beloved stars, his Galaxy Rangers putting their lives on the line to fight for justice. The smiles of his friends, the soft "goodbyes" and "goodlucks" they shared before the inevitable end. He knew that being a Ranger was no walk in the park and that their lives could be stolen away in the blink of an eye, but each one still hurt.
But after reliving the battles and war wounds, after remembering how each of his friends lost their lives, Ashveil began to notice a new presence in his dreams. The presence was not strong or overwhelming, yet obvious enough for him to always seek it. A bright white light, blinding to the eyes but a magnet for his heart.
Through the ruins of the battlefields in his past, "La Mancha" started to run towards that light. He did not know whether it was harmful or helpful, but anything to relieve the pain was enough - be it true salvation, or atonement through death.
That light - A person, perhaps - always enveloped him in a warm hug reminiscent of the ones his mother used to give him. It would run its hands through his hair, untangling the black locks while it whispered sweet dreams into his ear. He could only make out a pair of feathery wings that covered the face of whoever wanted to comfort him through his pain. Always accepting, always fleeting - before Ashveil could even see the face behind that blinding light, he would already be woken up from his sleep.
"Mr. Ashveil..."
"He's waking up."
"Oh, thank goodness he's okay. The tuning worked."
When he opened his eyes to the dim lighting of his office, everything was blurry for a moment. The blood loss from sustaining the injuries earlier had messed with his body, making Ashveil black out on the spot. Thankfully, though, everyone managed to patch him up properly and let him rest inside the refrigerator to heal.
He could make out Narrator, all brown fluffiness peering from the edge of his refrigerator, and another person. A light blue blob of color to his eyes, but he didn't miss the shining halo behind that figure. Paired with small wings that fluttered whenever that person spoke, he was reminiscent of the angelic figure Ashveil saw in his dreams.
"Angel..."
He reached up using his prosthetic hand, trying to reach for his source of comfort. A gasp could be heard in response (did the angel not want him to reach for it?) before the figure eventually placed a hand atop the detective's. Though still mostly unconscious, Ashveil's hand moved to caress the delicate feathers of the so-called angel's wings.
"U-Um, Mr. Ashveil...?"
With a well-placed hit on Ashveil's forehead from Narrator, the detective finally shot up. His eyesight returned, no longer seeing the world through blurriness. The monkey scowled as much as his cute face could, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. "Mr. Ashveil! I am not averse to letting you have a love life, but can you please not flirt with Mr. Sunday while I'm in the vicinity? On work hours, too!"
Wait, Mr. Sunday?
Ashveil quickly turned his head to Sunday, who had been standing there awkwardly the entire time. His gentle hands still held onto Ashveil's, as if torn between letting go and continuing to comfort the man. A red flush immediately made its way onto the detective's face, yanking his hand away and raising it in surrender. "W-Whoa, that's not what's happening here, Mr. N! I am so sorry, Sunday, I did not mean to-"
"Oh, no, it's okay..." Sunday mumbled a shy reply, his wings coming up to shield his face. One could tell that the Halovian man was just as flustered as the detective was. "I just wanted to drop by and check on you. The battle with Fulwish had been quite messy after all... and I heard some Furbos running around the streets trying to find bandages for you."
With a sigh, Ashveil hopped out of his sleeping pod. The office was back to its tidy, pristine state, while the sweet scent of banana muffins on the desk made his mouth water. Seriously, did Sunday just so happen to visit him at his worst? He was really indebted to the Halovian for everything that he's done.
"Hey, Mr. N? Are you even allowed to eat that?"
With a giddy screech, the Slumbernana monkey took one muffin and headed out the door with a skip in his step. Sunday laughed, grabbing another one of those sweet pastries and handing it over to the detective. "Here, you must be starving after skipping so many meals. I heard from Mr. Narrator that you weren't able to eat for three days..."
Ashveil gave him a bashful yet thankful smile, taking the muffin and sitting atop the refrigerator's lid. "Ah, Mr. N told you everything, did he? That chatterbox monkey, I swear to Lan..." He took a bite from the warm pastry, and his eyes immediately sparkled. Eating proper food was rare (what with the detective being perpetually broke), so sweet treats such as muffins were a rarity. He happily took big bites and finished the muffin quickly, chewing like a chipmunk with nuts in its mouth.
"Sunday...!" He exclaimed, holding back tears. "You spoil me too much, kid..."
"It's no problem at all. Besides..." Sunday mumbled, fiddling with his own fingers. "I wanted to come by and thank you for the other day. When Fulwish was spreading the word about who I am on live television, I was honestly at a loss... If not for your help, I wouldn't have been able to focus on the battle and would only be dead weight to everyone else."
Ashveil raised an eyebrow. He patted the refrigerator, asking Sunday to sit next to him. "That? That's nothing to be so thankful for. I've had my share of dealing with cosmic fugitives..." He laughed. "But fugitive or not, everyone has a reason as to why they do things. I won't push you to tell me what happened back in Penacony, but I sure as hell won't turn you in."
The Halovian complied, sitting next to Ashveil. The detective was all battered and bruised, his coat nowhere to be seen, but he was still more focused on comforting Sunday than on his own injuries. He always had a knack for making Sunday's heart do backflips every time he was nearby, from their first meeting in the Research Society of Happy Smiles.
"Thank you, Mr. Ashveil. Your words mean a lot to me."
Sunday leaned close, resting his head on Ashveil's shoulder. The soft strands of hair and the feathers of his wing brushed against the other, sending a pleasant shiver down his spine.
"If you ever need anyone to comfort you during hard times, please come to me. You've been more than understanding towards my situation. I want to know more about yours as well."
The contact made Ashveil's ears burn red. Although the idea of asking Sunday to comfort him was the last thing in his mind, he couldn't help but consider the offer. With a lopsided smile, Ashveil finally decided on putting his arm around the Halovian's waist and resting his head atop the light blue locks. Sunday's warmth felt just like what the angel in his dreams always offered to him - safety.
"If you're offering, Sunday... Then I'll happily oblige."