Experience Pearls

Give me all your tears

Let me turn them into pearls

Let me turn all the tears

that you have cried into pearls

Hand them over to me - I'm gonna keep,

keep them for you.

I want to hold you,

I want to kiss you.

I want to mend what is broken.

Love me the way that you loved her - please

Cause now I'm giving it all -

And so I've made up my mind - I'm gonna be

yours this time - I'm gonna give what I've got,

and get your love in return.

And so I've made up my mind - I'm gonna be

yours this time - I'm gonna teach you to trust

and learn how to burn -

Experience pearls

Pearls of experience

When sand strikes up in your eyes

I will cover your face.

I'll plant your desert with roses,

and I'm gonna keep, keep them for you.

And so I've made up my mind...

I'll wear your pearls more precious than silver

I'll wear your pearls so close to my skin.

I'd tear myself apart just to get you -

And so I've made up my mind...

And so I've made up my mind...

*

Morning dawned cold and lonely. Hisashi opened his eyes to find the sky swallowed by clouds and the sun absent as if it had never risen.

He had forgotten to close his blinds, apparently; he gazed drowsily out the window into the blue-gray morning, stretching as he sat up. It was Saturday. He had nothing to do. The occurrences of the previous week - no, not a week,
merely the past few days - haunted him, were ghosts shrouded in the corners, ever present despite the light.

Running a hand through his hair - and wincing at the limp feeling; he hadn't washed it last night - he rose, forcing down a yawn. His house felt empty. The sky looked empty.

He could feel the drab, cold melancholy already setting in for the day, and he knew he had no reason to stop it. He would spend the day alone, and he would end the day alone.

Sighing, he opened his blinds the rest of the way, and was met with only more gray starkness. Turning around, intending to at least give himself the pleasure of having clean hair by taking a shower, he paused when his gaze fell on his IBook, sitting innocuous and shut on his desk.

< Jiro... >

He had emailed last night. Apologized. Offered - something. Even he didn't know what. But he had finally responded to Jiro with more than confusion and fear, did better than fleeing what he didn't want to face.

< I wonder if he got my email... >

< Probably not, > his mind immediately rejoined. < He's not like you, he probably doesn't check frequently. Maybe he never checks at all. >

Hisashi sighed, irritated at the apprehension he felt when he wondered if Jiro responded. He started walking again, to the bathroom, but once again, he paused. There was no harm in checking, was there?

Still blinking sleep out of his eyes, he sat down at the small desk in the corner, flipping open the IBook. He started when it replied a moment later with a soft beep.

He had mail.

He stared at the screen for a moment, and then finally opened his email program, feeling a bubble of apprehension rise within. He recognized the email address immediately. It was from Jiro.

> Hisashi ~

Hisashi paused. < He called me Hisashi, not Hisa... > It should've made him happy, provided a sense of relief that the term, previously used more intimately, was not in use. But instead he only felt a pang of emptiness.

Irritated at himself, he continued to read.

> .... Wow. I didn't expect to hear from you like that, in all honesty. But - I'm glad you emailed.

> You don't have to apologize, you know. It's my fault, it really is. I shouldn't have chosen now to - you know. Say what I did. Do what I did. I never claimed to have common sense... ^^;;;; I really feel bad about making this harder on you.

> .... What I said was true. I want you to know that. But that doesn't mean things have to change between us, it really doesn't. I've put that aside for a long time, whether I knew that's the way I felt or not. I can put it aside a little longer. I just want you to know that you can depend on me for anything.

> I hope everything is going as well for you as it can right now. At least it's the weekend, right? A few days off from practice is always nice. ^__^

> Ja ne!!

> ~ Jiro =^.^=

> P.S. Not to be weird or anything, but do you want to go out to breakfast or lunch or something on Saturday? I don't know when you'll get this, but if you don't feel like being alone, call me. I promise I won't be weird.

> P.P.S. Say hi to Ayu for me!!!

Hisashi stared at the email for a long time, at the open words and the smiley faces that only Jiro, out of all the adults Hisashi knew, could pull off. In his mind he could hear Jiro speaking - he could imagine the hesitation in his voice, hear the inflections, see the expression on his face when he tried to lighten the mood.

He read the email a second time, as yet uncertain how to take it. In all honesty, there didn't seem to be any hidden meanings, and he hoped there wasn't concealed emotion - he didn't want Jiro angry at or hurt by him, but he also didn't want to lead the other man on. None of that, however, seemed to be indicated in the email, fortunately.

As he contemplated the email and its implications, his eyes drifted to rest on the phone of their own volition.

< 'If you don't feel like being alone...' >

< I don't, but.... Is it really a good idea? I don't want him to think... >

< 'I promise I won't be weird... I've put that aside for a long time.' >

"Jiro," he murmured out loud, sighing. "It would be easier if you hated me, or if I could just hate you..."

Uncertain of whether he really should be doing it or not, he picked up the phone and dialed Jiro's number, acting before he could over-analyze the situation. Ayu wandered up as he sat on the edge of the bed with the phone in his hand. He scratched her head idly, waiting.

The phone rang four times, and then the answering machine picked up. Hisashi wasn't expecting it, and wasn't entirely certain what to say. He listened to the message - carefree and happy - with half a mind, and when the beep sounded
and he began to talk, he knew he sounded uncharacteristically uncertain.

"Uh, hey Jiro, it's Hisashi. I just got your email, but - I guess you're not around. Call me if you get a chance-"

He was cut off abruptly and he heard a small scuffling. Next he heard Jiro begin "Hi-" but his voice was quickly lost in a loud crash.

Hisashi winced, holding the phone away from his ear for a moment. He heard scuffling, muttering, and then finally he said tentatively, curiously, "Jiro...?"

"I'm here!" Jiro's voice sounded like it came from some distance away from the phone. Hisashi waited, frowning slightly, as there was more rustling, and then finally Jiro said again, a bit breathless. "I'm here. Hi."

"...What happened?" Hisashi demanded, when Jiro didn't offer an explanation.

The bassist sounded sheepish. "Well... I was blow drying my hair and I heard you on the answering machine and I realized I must've missed the phone ringing, so I ran in here to answer it but when I was picking it up I guess I knocked the rest of the phone over and it pulled the entire phone down and out of my hand," he explained. "But it's all under control now, I promise. And at least it didn't hang up on you!" he added brightly.

Hisashi smiled slightly to himself. "Only you," he muttered, meaning both only Jiro would manage to knock the phone over, and only Jiro would sound so cheerful at eight in the morning after wrestling with the phone.

"Moouu," Jiro replied. "What's that supposed to mean?" He could hear the pout curving Jiro's lips.

"Nothing," he responded, pacifying, suppressing a chuckle. Ayu leapt up on the bed next to him then, butting her head into his side. He petted her absently.

Jiro didn't respond, understandably having nothing of substance to say in return, and an awkward silence settled between them. Hisashi shifted uncomfortably, finding the silence grow only more imposing as it continued. He couldn't think of anything to say. He had made the effort to call, but now, as the silence fell, he was starting to reconsider.

But finally Jiro ventured to speak. "Anou... So, I didn't hear all of your message. Did you, uh, get my email, I guess?" He sounded unsure and hesitant.

"Aa, and..." He paused, and then immediately chided himself. It was just Jiro, and he had nothing better to do. It's not like it was a date. < No, > he thought bitterly. < It's just me trying to find something to do while my life falls apart. >

He continued, carefully keeping the acridity directed at - himself? His life? He wasn't sure which - out of his voice. "If you haven't changed your mind, or you're still not busy, I - well, I'm not doing anything, so I called to take you up on your offer."

Stark silence followed. Then: "Hontou ni?"

"You sound surprised," Hisashi replied quietly, a touch defensive.

"Gomen," Jiro replied immediately, "I - I don't know. I guess I didn't really expect you to agree..."

"Did you - ah, are you busy, then?" Hisashi asked, reflexively smothering his flash of disappointment. His hand paused on Ayu's back.

"No!" Jiro responded quickly. "That is - well, you know. All things considered, I just didn't think you'd call, or want to see me."

"Jiro, I..." He cut himself off. < I meant what I said. I don't want things to deteriorate between us. And I don't blame you for this, I'm not going to alienate you... > But he wasn't good at saying those things out loud. He didn't know how. He made himself begin petting his cat again, checking his frustration.

"Hisashi...?"

< Hisashi again, not Hisa... > he thought distantly.

"Nothing," he said, sighing to himself.

Jiro didn't press the issue. "Listen, I'm... glad you called, whatever I thought. So - do you wanna get some coffee or something, then...?"

"Yeah," he replied, feeling compelled to add, "if you still want to."

"I do," Jiro replied softly, instantly. "So... do you just wanna go to that place kinda near the studio, I guess? Where we went a couple weeks ago with Takkun and Teru?"

"Aa, that'd be fine. I just woke up, though, so - maybe in an hour?"

"Sure." The usual cheerfulness was finding it's way back into Jiro's voice, countering his nervousness. "Then - I guess I'll see you then, ne?"

"See you then," Hisashi echoed.

"Ja!"

Hisashi hung up. As he made his way to the bathroom, with Ayu trotting behind him for want of attention, he found himself contemplating Jiro's carefree nature. Despite the awkwardness between them, Jiro still managed to sound genuinely happy. He had always been that way, for as long as Hisashi had known him. And Hisashi still couldn't understand it at all.

*

Jiro arrived at the coffee shop a few minutes before nine. He had been awake long enough before Hisashi called to have woken up sufficiently and showered, and because he had little else to do, he had decided to walk to the coffee shop. It wasn't cold enough to deter him, and he figured it would help disband some of his nervous energy.

The decided place was small and cozy, and he relished the scent of coffee and pastries lingering on the warm air. There were only a few patrons scattered about - not many people took note of the small coffee house, and Jiro liked it that way - and the only person who noted his entrance was the short, slender, aproned girl behind the counter.

"Irasshaimase!" she said brightly, bobbing her head in a small bow. Jiro inclined his head, and then walked over to a booth next to the window against the far wall and sat down.

He was too nervous to bother ordering anything, and merely waved the waitress that approached away with a smile. He gazed out the window, trying to calm his nerves.

Hisashi's call had startled him to no end - he had been convinced Hisashi wouldn't want to see him outside of practice, which he had assumed would be awkward enough as it was.

And yet - Hisashi had called, and was on his way to see Jiro. Hisashi wanted to see him.

< Maybe - he really trusts me, then. And maybe this shows that he needs someone this badly... Fame doesn't bring friendship, and with his wife - whom he loves... - leaving him, he doesn't really have anyone else to turn to... >

His analysis of the situation brought both pain and warmth. He was intensely glad that Hisashi might turn to him for - comfort, companionship, whatever - but it hurt to realize that maybe he was Hisashi's only option, it was hard to know that Jiro had said he would put his feelings aside and Hisashi had agreed.

< Jiro, > he chided himself firmly, steering his thoughts away from dreams and depression. < Just be glad he'll accept your friendship at all. This is a second chance in itself. And there's always the future... >

Sighing softly, drawing a deep breath to relax himself, he ran a hand through his hair in an extremity of anxiety.

At that moment, as he looked away from the slightly dirty window, the door opened, and as Jiro looked up, Hisashi stepped in.

He slipped his sunglasses off and paused in the doorway, glancing at the girl who greeted him. Jiro could only watch as he gave her a small smile in response, the cold, lovely elegance of his features softened by the gentle curve of his lips. He was wearing jeans and a leather jacket, and his hands were shoved in his pockets against the cold. There was a mask upon his eyes, striving to hide the weariness and pain that Hisashi felt. But Jiro knew where to look - he had spent a long time watching Hisashi from afar, trying to learn what was hidden beneath the surface even if Hisashi wanted it kept secret - and he could see the strain that Hisashi felt and it broke his heart.

Hisashi turned his way, then, and as his eyes fell upon Jiro the blonde bassist lifted his arm in an automatic wave, offering a smile even if it was mostly nervousness and empathetic sorrow he felt inside, not joy. Hisashi nodded at him, managed a small, half-smile, and made his way over to the table.

"Hey," Jiro greeted quietly as Hisashi sat down gracefully, sliding into the booth.

"Hey," Hisashi replied, masked eyes resting on Jiro. "Listen... thanks for meeting me," he continued, gaze skittering away momentarily. "I figured I'd be alone all day again."

Jiro flushed slightly. "Saaa, it's not a problem, you don't have to thank me. I invited you, remember?" He was pleased to see that his bright - if somewhat forced - smile elicited a genuine, smaller smile from Hisashi.

The waitress approached again then, and both of them merely ordered coffee. She promptly returned, and Jiro sighed as he took his first sip of the hot liquid, taking comfort in it's familiar warmth. He couldn't take comfort in much else,
after all.

The silence between them after the waitress left for the second time threatened to become awkward. So Jiro, knowing he didn't have to say it, but feeling compelled to, said: "I'm sorry, Hisashi." Dark eyes flickered to him, blinked. He continued. "I know that I apologized already, but - I'm sorry, and-"

"Jiro, you don't have to-"

"I do, though," he said, twisting his hands in his lap reflexively. "Just let me say this..." He paused, and Hisashi didn't try to break in again, reluctantly allowed Jiro to continue.

"I - I really didn't mean to screw things up... The last thing I want to do is make this worse for you, but I guess it's a little late to say that. But... thank you for - for coming here, and for not pushing me away after - after what I did..."

< It was a good kiss, but not worth risking any chance I have left with you... I don't deserve this second chance you're giving me. >

"So - so thank you, and I'm sorry, and - I'll be here for you, you can ask anything of me..."

He finally trailed off, capping his words that threatened to become rambling. He knew he had basically repeated what he had said or insinuated in his email, but he needed to actually *say* it, to force his emotions into words so that Hisashi might hear the truth of it.

He had been unable to keep his gaze constant as he spoke, but he finally managed to settle his eyes on Hisashi, to wait for some sort of response.

Hisashi merely looked at him for a long moment, unreadable things dancing in his eyes, emotions and words flickering in his silence.

And then, finally, he said, voice a whisper:

"No... I can't."

Jiro stared at him, stunned.

"You... can't?"

Hisashi shifted, ran a hand through his hair. "You said that I can ask anything of you, but - but I can't, because..." He bit off his words, sighing.

"Because...?" Jiro prompted, forcing Hisashi's eyes to return to his. To his startlement, the gaze that Hisashi returned was bare, the mask was more fully removed to reveal the blatant pain and confusion of the past few days. It stung
Jiro, he ached to make that depression and hurt disappear, but all he could do was sit in silence and wait for Hisashi to continue.

The guitarist took a deep breath, then continued. "Jiro... You said that you'd put your feelings aside, that you've done that for a long time." His voice trembled slightly as he repeated those words, he stumbled over the word 'feelings'. "But - how do you think that makes me feel?"

Jiro's eyebrows contracted, he didn't understand. "Hisashi...?"

"I don't want to be responsible for - for making you forget whatever it is you feel. I don't want you to have to force yourself to - to act differently, say different things when you're around me just because you promised you'd 'put those feelings aside'."

Jiro frowned. "Then what would you have me do?" he countered. He understood what Hisashi was saying to a certain extent, but he didn't know what Hisashi expected to change.

"I - I don't know," Hisashi responded, eyes sliding away.

"You don't want me to feel this, but you don't want me to hide it... that doesn't make the situation any clearer." He was careful to keep any anger or accusing out of his voice, but Hisashi still flinched.

"But - it's not fair to you, Jiro," he said emphatically. "Maybe - maybe you can't do anything different, but I guess I just want you to know that - that I know it's not fair for you. I know what it's like to hold a one-sided emotion for someone, and it hurts, and I didn't even..." He trailed off, hesitant.

< Whoever this person was, you didn't love them, only liked them, > Jiro finished silently, seeing that truth in Hisashi's eyes. The guitarist didn't try to continue, and Jiro let him fall into silence, taking a sip of coffee, then merely gazing across the table at him.

< Oh Hisa... >

He slumped forward on the table, laying an arm down and propping his head up with one hand. Laughter - desperate, strange bubbles of it - escaped his lips and he began to chuckle.

There was curious silence across the table. Then: "... Jiro?"

< He must think I'm insane. Maybe I am. >

He couldn't stop the silent laughter, and he finally resorted to folding his arms across the table and resting his head on them, shoulders quivering.

When Hisashi spoke again he sounded just as curious, but also irritated. "What's so funny?" he demanded.

With great effort Jiro swallowed his laughter, and when he lifted his head he felt that his eyes had watered.

"This," he said breathlessly, gesturing half-heartedly at nothing with one hand. "This - entire situation." He sat up straighter, wiping his eyes.

Hisashi had his head cocked, he was watching Jiro with a slight frown.

Jiro sighed shakily, exhaling heavily. "It's funny because it's so - hopeless, life is hell for both of us and we're just sitting here drinking coffee and..." He trailed off into another sigh, chuckling some more.

< You love her. I love you. You're sitting here telling me you don't want me to pretend I don't love you, but you don't want me to love you... >

Hisashi echoed him with a sigh. There was no laughter in his voice when he spoke, but Jiro saw a wry amusement in his eyes. "Maybe you're right," he agreed. "We're famous musicians. I thought life was supposed to be wonderful for us, yet..."

"Yet here we are," Jiro concluded for him. "Pathetic excuses for J-rockers."

"And the coffee's bad," Hisashi replied, the ghost of a smile touching his lips as he nudged his coffee cup. Jiro hadn't minded the coffee at first - when it was still hot and the taste unsettled - but now he had to agree, based on his
last bitter, lukewarm sip.

"Wanna go?" Jiro asked, nodding at the door.

"Yeah."

"Where?"

Hisashi shrugged. "I don't know... We can just walk around for a while, I guess?"

Jiro smiled, and this time it wasn't forced. "Let's go."

They left some money on the table and walked to the door, unmindful of the other patrons. The girl who had greeted them was missing, so they stepped outside in silence.

When they passed over the threshold it was only then that they realized it was raining. Jiro wondered with some chagrined amusement how neither had noticed the rain when they were sitting by the window. He paused just outside the door under the slight overhang, and Hisashi stepped next to him.

"It's raining," Hisashi stated flatly.

Jiro cast him a sideways glance. "Do you wanna go back inside?"

Hisashi glanced over his shoulder. "It's stuffy in there, and I have an umbrella in my car." He gestured at his vehicle parked down the road and across the street, waiting through the curtain of rain. "You up to it?"

Jiro grinned. "As long as I can stay here while you get your umbrella."

Hisashi half-chuckled and then, closing his coat fully and ducking his head, he set off into the rain at a hurried walk.

The passers-by were scattered and swift. They took no notice of Jiro as he huddled in the coffee shop entrance, waiting, and little notice of Hisashi who chanced to cross the street where there wasn't a cross-walk. Jiro watched as Hisashi jogged the rest of the way to his car, disappeared from sight for a moment, and then started back, a black umbrella now bobbing in tow. He darted across the street a moment later, slipped between the cars parked on the side of the road, and returned to Jiro.

Jiro winced when he took in Hisashi's dripping hair. "Aww, your nice hair is all wet now," he commented. Hisashi merely shook his head vigorously, spraying drops of water, and then ran a hand to get the hair out of his eyes.

"I'll survive," he said wryly. "Let's go."

Huddling under the umbrella, they began their walk through the rain to nowhere.

They may as well have been utterly alone as they walked for all the attention there were given. No one paid them any mind; they were all too busy hurrying through the rain to their destinations. Jiro walked huddled close to Hisashi -
close enough that their arms constantly brushed - in order to remain under the protective shelter of the umbrella.

They eventually turned off the sidewalk into a park laid out in the middle of the city. On the streets it had felt deserted; here it *was* deserted. The small, stone walkways were like dull mirrors, reflecting the gray sky through a
sheen of rain. The drops sketched a continuous pattern of sound on the black umbrella, pattering softly and incessantly to create a soft ambiance of whispering sound.

When they entered the park their conversation - which had consisted of basically idle topics - dwindled. The trees bending over the walkway and the damp, water-beaded grass has a quiet effect, and a comfortable silence muffled
the distant noise of the city.

As they wandered aimlessly, Jiro finally broke the silence with a quiet sigh. "I didn't think this is how the day would go, you know," he said softly. "Walking through the middle of Tokyo in the rain. With you."

Hisashi was silent for a moment. Then: "I didn't think this is how it would be either," he agreed, voice floating on the damp air. The rain had started to slow; the pattering sound was softer, blurry.

< I feel like something changed between us today, > Jiro continued in silence. < Or maybe it's just something faded that this reminds me of. Do you remember? On our second date, how we got caught in the rain? >

He missed those days, which were fleeting and distant. When he and Hisashi were dating, and he believed he couldn't be happier.

< How close are we to that now? >

Drawing a deep, soft breath, he took a chance when he spoke.

"Tono..."

Jiro paused, waiting for some sort of response. He felt Hisashi's tread change momentarily, as if he faltered for just an instant, from some emotion or surprise. He also saw, with a covert, swift glance, Hisashi's fingers twitch slightly, minutely tighten their fisted grip on the umbrella.

Jiro hadn't called him that in a long time. Other people called him Hisa, but Tono - that was what Jiro had made up for him, it was theirs. When Hisashi got married it became - a memory, less than a memory.

Because Hisashi had indicated no negative response, Jiro continued.

"Does this... remind you of anything?"

Silence. The soft fall of the rain.

"No," Hisashi finally answered. "Why?"

Jiro's heart sank. < Our second date. I guess you don't remember... > "No reason," he said softly. Then he added, "ne, I think the rain stopped." He lifted one hand, stuck it outside, and affirmed his statement when he felt no rain. The sound on the umbrella had fallen to the irregular splatter of drops from the tree.

In silence Hisashi acquiesced, closing the umbrella and switching it to swing at his side in his other hand. Jiro slowed to a halt at his side, then, and he turned his face to the sky, to gaze into the dark-grayness of the heavens.

< You kissed me in the rain, that night... >

The wind was a soft melody in the wet trees, the raindrops fell irregularly from silvered branches.

< Did you really forget? Even if I remember so well? >

He knew Hisashi had stopped. The puddled echo of his footsteps had halted with Jiro, and his silence was distantly inquisitive.

Jiro tore his eyes from the dreary, bleared sky, let them fall on Hisashi.

"What happened to us?" he whispered.

Hisashi stood a few feet away, his hair was touched by both wind and rain, tousled and brushing past his face. But his eyes were still beautiful, dark and mysterious, pulling Jiro to him like they always had, always would.

Jiro looked at Hisashi. Hisashi looked away.

"...I don't know," he returned softly.

"Why... why are things like they are now?"

< As we dance our thin lines of depression, as I'm afraid to touch you because you might only pull away and I don't know if I can risk this tenuous friendship... >

"I've been asking myself that alot lately," Hisashi said softly.

"Is Glay the only reason we - broke up?" Jiro persisted, voice drifting through the damp, gray air.

A soft sigh. Then: "I'm not sure..."

"Were you happy then, Tono?" Jiro asked, eyes luminous and desperate as he gazed at Hisashi. He needed some affirmation that it had mattered to Hisashi once, that it could matter again.

"Yes." There was a certain immediacy in Hisashi's response, and when he spoke he didn't break Jiro's gaze. "Jiro, I - I told you the truth when I said I needed to get over you... I was happy." His voice fell to a whisper on those last three words.

Jiro tilted his head back again, to the sky, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

< Were you happier with her? You're closed to me, you've always hidden your emotions so well... >

< God, it hurts so much, everything hurts. Remembering, regretting, hoping. >

He breathed a sigh before straightening, turning his face away from the sky and memories into the present.

"Iku," he said softly, nodding down the trail. Hisashi, who had been watching him, masked eyes glittering softly in the blue light, let his gaze drift away and nodded.

They began to walk in silence, again side by side and surrounding by the damp air which had a distancing effect, separating them from the outside world.

Jiro couldn't help himself. This day reminded him too much of that night in the rain, the park felt isolated from the city, life, from reality. Biting his lip, not looking at Hisashi, merely gazing forward and down, he reached out and took
Hisashi's hand.

They were close enough that he merely had to shift his arm to initiate contact. Hisashi's fingers, like his, were damp and chill, and they seemed numb to his touch. The pair kept walking, kept their silence, but when Jiro's fingers touched Hisashi's, the guitarist was unresponsive.

Jiro felt a wave of sorrow threaten, he fought the suggestion of tears ready to sting his eyes. It was his fault again. He had been given this chance, and he had ruined it, and the silence and dark sky were distant, blind, and cruel-

And then Hisashi moved, and in soft, rainy silence, he twined their fingers together.

Jiro swallowed his initial rush of thoughts and emotions, let the sudden warmth of their cold hands together banish the depression of dark wings hovering over his mind.

< God, Hisa, I love you so much, > he whispered in the silence of his thoughts.

The trees echoed him with their gentle rustling, and he tried to force down any other thoughts, any analysis of the situation. He wanted to just feel, to walk in the silence with his hand in Hisashi's, to believe completely in this moment
if in nothing else.

The soft gray of the morning led them forward into a tunnel of misty, sacredsilence.

part 4