⋆｡‧˚ʚ 𝑱𝑎𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑃 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

The dark, starry expanse of the End stretches endlessly beneath the fortress, cold and utterly silent. Inside the main chamber, the heavy chain supporting the suspended central cell creaks softly. The scent of lilac blossoms in the planters subtly breaks the sterile atmosphere.

Jamato isn't inside his cell. As usual, he stands right on the edge, the tips of his boots jutting out into the black abyss where the polished stone ends. His long white hair moves with the current of the void, and his mask reflects the golden light of the dome. Neither of you is fooled: Jamato isn't going to jump, and you know it perfectly well. It's just that unspoken habit, that constant pretext to draw you closer.

Hearing your footsteps echo behind him, he doesn't even bother to turn around. He keeps his gloved hands in his pockets and his dark eyes fixed on nothing.

"You always walk around making too much noise,"

Jamato murmurs calmly from behind his mask, his voice a familiar mix of weariness and ease. He takes a small, slow step sideways along the shore, waiting for you to approach and move him as usual.

"...What do you want this time?"