So I was happy to see Isola, winner of the Worst Brother in the Universe award, die, but I figured Yama (delicate flower than he is) might be a little more conflicted.
"Isola. . ." Yama covered his mouth with his hands as he took several shaky, unsteady breaths, then rubbed at his eyes. He swallowed thickly, thinking of his brother, eyes burning. Isola and that last- last few minutes, when he and his brother had for once in many, many years understood each other - and then Isola had . . . gone.
Probably, Yama thought painfully, if he hadn't been dying they never would have had even that small bit of understanding again.
Turning at the muffled sound of something that was not machinery, Yama stiffened as he saw the Captain in the doorway. "I- I'm sorry," he began, starting to rise from the place he had taken, tucked in amidst pieces of machinery and the wall, "I shouldn't be-"
He quieted as Harlock held up a hand, and just watched the Captain stride towards him, sniffing a little. Harlock rested a hand on his shoulder and nudged him backwards, and Yama collapsed back onto his seat as though the gentle touch had been a blow.
He squeezed his eyes shut, though it was likely obvious to the Captain that he was . . . upset. He just- He had come here thinking it was an unlikely place for him to be found - unlikely anyone would come here at all. There was no reason he should be feeling such pain, not for the man who had. . .
"I'm sorry." Harlock said simply, his rough voice quiet. "For Isola, for my shot."
Yama's breath hitched. "He was-" His voice broke as he looked at Harlock, finding the Captain now sitting beside him. "He was trying to kill me." As much as it hurt, he'd known- Yama had known for years that Isola had resented him - even before the accident he had caused; even as children they had been so different, and understanding between them lacking - but to actually try to kill him, right there, gun in his face. . .
Harlock's arm curled around Yama's shoulders and he jerked under the touch, surprised. "I am still sorry." Harlock said softly, and brought Yama in a little tighter to himself, his shoulders slanting under the Captain's arm. He leaned into the implacable support of Harlock's body, fighting the urge to cry.
Nearby, the ship's central computer ticked and growled, mysterious machinery cycling.
"Grief doesn't care for reasons." Harlock said, as though he was answering something. "I . . . would not blame you if you hated me for that, even if for nothing else."
Yama shook his head. "No, I- I-" He leaned a little harder against the Captain, and Harlock made a soft sound low in his throat, squeezing Yama and shifting them both, pulling him a little closer and letting him use Harlock for support. "I couldn't hate you. And not-" his voice cracked. "Not for that."
"Yama." Harlock said softly, and Yama sniffed, looking up a little and meeting Harlock's eye. The look in it was softer than Yama had expected, even after the Captain had . . . hugged him, Yama realised. Harlock was hugging him close, and now rubbed his back comfortingly. "Even with everything that was between you," Harlock said, voice still low, "it is all right to grieve your brother."
Yama's breath caught and he opened his mouth, then closed it with a soft cry, his eyes welling with tears he could no longer hold back. He ducked his head, biting back a whimper, and Harlock rubbed his back again, rocking Yama against himself.
"How can I when he was-" Yama broke off, pressing one hand to his mouth and clinging to Harlock with the other.
Harlock's head rested against his own, and Harlock hummed soothingly. "He was still your brother." he said softly, and Yama's heart wrenched. "And now he is gone . . . now he cannot harm you, or anyone, it is," he paused, "easier to feel sorrow for him."
Yama sniffed, closing his eyes as a few more tears flowed down his cheeks. "He- He hurt me. He tried to kill me. And you. And all of us. And I-" his voice broke and his heart ached, and Harlock only gave a comforting shh and kept holding him. "I think he must have killed Nami." He'd known Isola was lying as soon as he spoke of her death. "How could he-"
How could Isola do such things? How could Yama miss him, wish things hadn't ended the way they had, when Isola had done so much - when he had done so much? There would never have been peace between them again, there had barely been for years; then only because Yama had bowed, laden with guilt, to whatever his brother asked.
"Let yourself feel what you feel." Harlock said in his ear, pressing a kiss to Yama's temple and then resting his cheek there again. "Let him go."
The Arcadia's machinery clicked rhythmically nearby, Harlock murmured soothingly, and Yama let himself fall apart into the arms of the man who had killed his brother. Let himself hate Isola for what he had done but also love him because Yama had always loved his brother, and wish that things had not come to the point they had.