it trickles through kazuma's fingers, just like sand, he thinks, and watching him hold something of the universe is just like home to him. it's right, everything in their - yes, this was theirs now, not just his anymore - galaxy is okay, and then, suddenly, when kazuma interlaces his fingers with his, it's like some sort of universal binding.
his much too small hands compared to kazuma's, his galaxies are nothing compared to what was within the other man's soul. stars slipping through their hands, sands of time, stardust, and all's well that ends well, another of kazuma's famous lines.
"if you focus on our hands too long," kazuma whispers, "you might form a black hole there, byron."
a smile, tilt of his head, and he chuckles, of course he would say something like that. it was in his nature, after all. and the stars glimmer and shine, falling perfectly in place around the two of them.