Week 3, Sunday Post-Execution - Sanji

[fragileprophet]

[Well, at least Ion is roughly taking his own advice. He hasn't stopped breathing, yet. But it feels like everything else in the world has stopped. Once the execution dispersed and Ion had nobody else left to comfort, the energy drained out of him like a faucet left abandoned. He probably would have collapsed right in the foyer, but willpower alone kept his feet moving. The wise choice might have been to head back to his room, but after the weekend, after what just happened, he needs a break from babysitting Natsuo. It's not that it bothers him to do it, but he knows he won't be any comfort to anyone for awhile.

Ion ends up in the music room. Usually, he takes a seat at the full-scale harp, but instead he finds himself cradling a handheld-sized version in his lap, huddled against corner in the back. He's not even making music, just softly plucking the same sad cord as he stares off into nothing, head lulled against the cool stone.]

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[concasse]

[This is not how Sanji expected his first experience hearing Ion's harp to go. Just like the other, he's been running on willpower and bullheadedness, but it's more a chore to maintain when there's no one else to look after.

-- Except for one more person on Sanji's list, that sends him hunting all over the castle, until he hears the soft pluck of a harp's string through a cracked door.]

... Ion? [Calling out first, and then glancing steadily to make sure it's his Ion before he slips through the door, closing it behind him. Then a pause, already searching for something to say.

He gives up halfway instead, shoving his hands into his pockets and making his way over, taking a seat next to him on the floor.]