Something tells him he already knows whatās written on that sheet of paper.
Itās been too long since heād seen Claus. Too many days since he destroyed that manās home in a fit of anger. Since he figured out that any real chance to enact revenge for their situation had long passed. Since heād been his āolderā self, only to find that nothing ever really changed in that time and more. Since Ken had disappeared, since heād reunited with familiar friends he could never surely say were present at all in retrospect, since heād first begun having these nasty quarrels with his brother...
But of course, the real tip-off is the cake. It looks just as unappetizing as the one given on their past birthday, but Lucas gives it a shot out of courtesy anyways.
Just like last year, just tasting it manages to bring him to tears--but itās because itās actually good, for once. Itās delicious, in fact. A first for anything his brotherās ever cooked. Just when did you get your act together, you bastard?
Cakeās not what this is here for, though. Swallowing, he reminds himself to breathe normally as he unfolds the letter. As he thought, the contents were almost unsurprising. For all the bravado in his personality, Claus sure shied away from admitting things face-to-face.
A lump in his throat forms, but Lucas forces it back. He--they both knew that for them, feeling like this was inevitable. Difference was, Lucas had been so full of anger before--both at himself and at Claus. Heād choke back his own dark thoughts and feelings with the biggest force he could muster. Righteous and roaring, heād rip through his protests and pull him back. It was his job to keep him safe--to keep him alive. Regardless of his protests.
Funny how much things could change in a couple fortnights or so. No... change was the wrong word. Nothing had changed, really. The situation had simply become clearer to Lucasā eyes. Claus, then, must have come to his own realizations as well.
Their world, physical and personal, had crumbled ages ago. And as much as theyād been drawing it out--as much as there had been things worth sticking around for, the good souls met, friends made, love found--at this point, the world had exhausted what it had to offer them. They were exhausted.
Lucas knew this, and he was certain Claus knew this, too. Silly of him to go sending letters when he could have just saved time and said it to his face! Maybe he was afraid Lucas would have forced him away from his choices once more? Valid concern, but it hadnāt been a precaution heād needed to take this time.
Finishing the cake, he picks up the note and tucks it in his pocket.
That idiot. Does he think he can just go run off by himself again?
It occurs to Lucas that he knows exactly where his brother is by instinct now. They are both incredibly potent psychics, inextricably linked by blood--itās a simple matter to follow the pull he feels from his twin, once he lets go of his apprehension.
He travels from his home in a straight beeline; quickly, but not panicking. Heād feel that taut link fading if the worst were to happen, he was certain of it--the feeling was familiar enough to be undoubtable. He arrives without incident, and sure enough, thereās his brother, standing ahead of the shrine Lucas had constructed at the foot of a secluded hill.
His confrontational attitude seems to have gone away; his expression more serene than itās looked in a long time.
āThanks for the cake, but... donāt tell me youāre leaving without me.ā
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