Work Text:
Kakavasha spent even more of his free-time visiting Veritas’ grave. It wasn’t healthy. Not in the slightest. But he didn’t care. He missed the other, and it had grown even more ever since he’d put more time into sculpting, as well. Of course, that free-time had grown to be sudden moments, ones that were slowly fading away as he got back into a ‘proper’ work schedule.
His credits from his time in the IPC won’t last forever, after all. Especially given the fact that he doesn’t gamble as much anymore. (No, that hobby was sidelined for a new one, the chisel and mallet.) And, sure, this little office job doesn’t pay him as much as it could, but even so, he’s doing it. Even if it hurts him little by little. He doesn’t go by Kakavasha here, no. It’d be stupid to do so after spending this time running from the IPC.
Even so, here he is, once more.
Sitting beside a lonely tombstone, away from the world. It’s well kept, despite his few visits, and this part of the woods is almost always silent.
Silent enough that he feels like he’s imagining things when he hears a voice. .... A voice that should be impossible to hear.
...
“Kakavasha?”