The next day…
The sky bled from a deep blue into a breathtaking tapestry of warm colors. The shadows of the night reeled back as light blasted onto the surface. The sun's warmth enveloped the surroundings, waking up the residents of the earth. The soft chirp of the birds echoed through forests of camp Rifugio Bruno Boz. A soft wind pushed through the surroundings rattling the leaves.
Missio and Dante groaned, opening their eyes. The sibling duo sat straight at the same time with drowsy eyes. After a few seconds, the brothers stood up.
"Good morning…" Dante yawned.
"Good morning." Missio groaned, stretching his limbs.
He grabbed his music box, attaching it to his waist. Stabilizing their bodies, the siblings exited their tent. They stood on a wooden platform raised above the uneven ground. Silence dominated their proximity in the middle of the forest. Missio and Dante stepped off the raised platform. They strolled down the hillside, eventually reaching the restroom facilities of the camp. Both entered separate toilets and handled their business.
They both stepped out and headed over to the sinks. They wet their hands, hovering their palm below the soap dispensers. The dispenser detected them and pushed soap onto their skin. Missio rubbed it across his hand, scrubbing every inch of skin. Then, he washed it all away in the same manner. The two then, walked back up to their tent. They sat down on the inflated floor, holding themselves with their hands.
Dante lowered his head, blinking. He forced his eyes awake and raised his head. He glanced at Missio listening to his music. He heaved a sigh of relief.
'Does he ever take that thing off?'
He questioned. Just he was with his sunglasses, Missio seemed to be obsessed with the music box that Dante had gifted him long ago. The supreme commander crossed his legs, raising his knees. He wrapped his arms around them, rocking back and forth. Then, he opened his mouth.
"Hey, bro." he called out.
Missio raised a brow, pressing a button. The music stopped as he tapped his headphones. They instantly shifted to full transparency, letting him hear the world around him.
"Yeah?"
Dante drew a sharp breath.
"Have you ever thought of, Y'know, taking a break from the Music?"
Missio froze. Dante did as well. Time seemed to halt in its tracks. Missio's eyes widened as he grazed his precious music box. His mouth bubbled up and down before… he chuckled in an awkward fashion.
"Ha, ha… good one." Missio smiled awkwardly.
"No, I'm being serious."
Missio froze once more. His brows furrowed as he locked onto his big brother.
"…"
They sat in silence for a minute or so. Missio's anxiety brewed in the moment. His heart thumped, making him sweat slightly.
"Are you okay with that?" Dante inquired again.
"…No… I'm not." Missio shook his head.
"Come on, Missio." Dante raised his arm. "I know you're not comfortable with it but… let's take a few steps at a time. You have to lessen your attachment to that Music box."
"… Why are you doing this? What made you think I have to let go of it?" Missio's voice cracked. "This… This has been with me since mom died. You gave it to me. The first time I listened to it… I clearly remember, it was first time I could sleep properly in days…"
"But now, you've moved on."
Dante's words cut through Missio's skin like a hot knife. He felt his anger rise, pressing his palm against the music box.
"So? Why des that matter? You gifted me this and now, you're trying to take it away? Just because, I've become a little over attached? What kind of big brother are you?"
Dante sighed, face-palming. He pinched his nose, closing his eyes. He opened them and met his little brother's gaze.
"An understanding one." He answered. "Missio, your trauma no longer haunts you. I gave you that music box to ease it. But now, what purpose does it serve? You can decide but for me, it has fulfilled the purpose I had bough it for. I bought that to help my little brother. Now, you've grown. Your trauma is not as severe and right now… you're being over protective of it."
"Even if it has done it's job, it's not useless!" Missio exclaimed. "What about you with your sunglasses? Huh? You seem overly attached to that."
"No… No, I'm not." Dante shook his head. "Am I wearing them right now? No. Why? Because I only wear them when I need to. I don't wear them to sleep or any place where it would be uncomfortable. More than that, the glasses contain Mythos which is necessary for my job as supreme commander."
"You wear them all day. Don't lie." Missio hissed.
"I do. But again, that's because I need them for my job. You don't need that for your job." Dant pointed at Missio. "You can keep it, listen to whenever you want. For me, wearing the glasses isn't a way to cope my trauma. It's become a habit. Even then, it's not coping you're trauma anymore. Tell me, how much have you used it during our trek?"
Missio paused. He lowered his head, counting the times he had actually used the music box. A realization struck him that…
"…Not that much." Missio stated honestly.
"See? Now listen, I'll let you keep it. It's gift from me to you. But, right now. Just take them off. What do need the music box for right now? Nothing. You can wear it at times when you don't need it but I'm worried about your health and ears. Sleeping with that for a long time… I can't even imagine the relief you're ears you'll get once you take them off."
Missio didn't reply. He heaved a small breath, realizing his brother was in fact right. He elevated his head, locking eyes with Him. Dante flicked his chin, urging him to go on. Missio titled his head, gripping his headphones with his fingers. Then, he pulled, taking them off – completely. He held them in front of his head, scanning them with a stoic expression. Then, he laid them on the ground. Detaching his music box as well, he set both items to the side.
He placed his arms on his knees. Suddenly, a sharp pain exploded in his ears. He gritted his teeth, covering them with his hands. The pain felt like a thousand hot needles continuously stabbing into his ears and at the same time, it felt like this ears were uncurling themselves.
"Son of a…!" Missio cried out under gritted teeth.
"It's okay. You'll be good in a couple of minutes." Dante approached his brother, patting his back.
Missio ignored his brother's comment, distracted by the pain spiking through his skull. The torture continued for a few minutes until, the pain dimmed down a bit. The transcendent gasped for air, his eyes bursting open. Cold sweat fell off his face and fell onto his back. The ascendant, stared at the ceiling of the inflatable tent, processing the shock of the pain.
"You good?' Dante asked, his shadow covering Missio's face.
Missio panted. "Yeah… no…"
"Yeah…" Dante leaned back, making an awkward face. "You're ascendant senses may have made that a tad bit more painful."
"I think I saw a field of flowers." Missio commented.
"Relax. You're not gonna die."
"It feels like it."
"That's your punishment for wearing that for so long but… hey, starting is better than not trying."
Missio paused for a moment. He closed his mouth, contemplating. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and replied in a tired manner.
"…I guess you're right on that one."