07-Ghost © Yuki Amemiya and Yukino Ichihara
...
Frau thought the sentimentalism of the whole reunion was somewhat uncalled for, but that was what happened when you traveled in a tight-knit group like theirs. Labrador certainly could have avoided the whole somber ceremony by planting the damn tree and later pointing it out to Frau as Bastien's reincarnated soul; or he perhaps could have chosen to not tell Frau at all, waiting instead for that undefined point in time where he might decide to take a stroll through the courtyard gardens and figure things out for himself.
But, no, Labrador was kinder than that, bless his prophetic heart, and so he brought the humble beginnings of a great Evy tree straight to Frau in the dead of night, nestled gently between caring hands and freshly potted soil.
How exactly was Frau supposed to react to that sort of situation? And with the brat around, no less!
So he chose to say nothing, just nodded and observed the color of the little spirit, held it briefly, passed it back. He kept the grief inside, pushed it away somewhere where it would no longer bother him.
The irony of the situation, of course, was that Bastien had held fast to his promise. He had chosen to be reborn as an everlasting tree...so he could stay by the side of an everlasting Ghost.
Sentimental bastard.
Looking at the tiny leaves of the sprout held so tenderly in Labrador's hands created a welling of mirth and amusement, and Frau couldn't help but laugh. Labrador smiled knowingly, the kid jumped back a few paces, and Castor pushed up his glasses while stepping closer to the wall, probably trying to give Frau some space to breathe.
But it was funny. It really was. Looking at the tiny sprout with the brave white crosses emblazoned so strongly on bright green leaves, Frau couldn't help but make a comparison to the Assistant Archbishop's uniform, with its big, hulking shoulder pads sporting their own crosses of white. It was like Bastien's soul was refusing to let go of the past, stubbornly clinging to its old identity with all the strength it could muster in those tender little roots, doing everything it possibly could to make it blatantly obvious to Frau that his mentor's spirit was still nearby, still watching over him, and never going back on the words of that long-ago promise.
So Frau laughed as he followed Lab and Castor into the gardens, telling one or the other to plant Bastien's spirit in the sunniest part, knowing all the while that Lab would ignore his suggestion entirely if it turned out the thing needed full shade instead. But, no, apparently partial sun would do it, so under the protective leaves of an older tree went the young one, sheltered from the sun and the rain and the storms, held tightly in the Church's sanctuary where nothing would harm it while it grew from determined sapling into a great, gentle tree.
Much like Bastien had done for Frau.
(Except that Frau wasn't exactly gentle these days; at least, not while fighting off that stubborn scythe of Verloren's.
Not that anybody was noticing, of course.)
He smiled anyway, choosing to ignore the writhing mass of evil that lived in his right arm, and clamped a grateful hand on Lab's shoulder. Soft purple eyes blinked up to meet sharpened blue, and Frau knew he didn't have to tell Labrador to make sure he took extra-special care of that plant. So he released his friend and shoved his hands into his pockets, ignoring Castor's teasing remarks about how Frau had acquired a strange hobby, mother-henning these little saplings too small to take care of themselves, and the reminder of Teito caused him to spit back some air-headed retort just so their quarreling could bring a sense of normalcy to the melancholic courtyard.
It was Labrador who reminded them to quiet down; the acolytes were to be tested for the Bishop's Exam on the morrow, and so they were shooed from their argument to their separate rooms. Frau was glad for the distraction of reminding Lab to get to bed as well; it would only make the kids even more jittery to discover the seemingly dead body of a bishop in the wee early hours.
So with parting words (or parting gibes, depending upon the intended audience), Frau hopped into his coffin and slid shut the lid, feeling at peace with the knowledge that, while he may have had to struggle through yet another battle as the sad and sole survivor, he had finally found some indestructible friends to travel the rest of life's long journey with him.
...sentimental bastards, the three of them.