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Hikaro looked up to find Klonoa leaning in and looking at him, with just a faint smile. It almost seemed surreal after such a trial, it had been so long since Klonoa smiled at him, smiled at all. Legs turned to jello were willed to move, and Hikaro shuffled closer, reaching out a tentative hand toward Klonoa.

Soft fingers wove through softer hair, impossibly soft feathers of lavender that graced Klonoa's head. The threads shifted and moved around his hand, and an index finger caught at the shell of his ear and curved around it, feeling the warm skin flex beneath his hand. Pulling in closer, Hikaro's hand framed the underside of Klonoa's jaw, and he could feel the unyielding force of bone lying underneath the marble colored skin. Yes, yes he was alive again. Suddenly aware of what he was doing, Hikaro pulled his hand away, and let it fall.
"Thank you."

Hikaro's smile returned, gracious. He wanted to take Klonoa into his arms and kiss away the fears, using his wings to shield him from the dangers and the corruption, but would be satasfied with the lingering touch and his presense by his side. Honey eyes sought the deep violet eyes and held their gaze. There was something exotic and smoky about violet eyes...

"Don't worry about it. We all make mistakes, I'm just glad you're alright." He said sincerely. Klonoa's life would hit a point where innocence became a flaw, where he was expected to rise above and beyond the childhood blindness. Remaining so pure would become a fault, something Mirabelle would use to her advantage, but something he could no longer be remorseful for losing. That point was fast approaching. If only Mirabelle had known what innocence felt like for a single moment in her wretched existance.

The changing of the light indicated that sunset was nearing. The room was being cast in a hazy orange glow. Hikaro shifted his plumage to not block out the window. They'd been together a long time already, hadn't they? And He'd yet to meet Klonoa's family, aside from Liberty and Mirabelle. He started to feel just a little anxious, he couldn't quite shake the feeling he was imposing on something he had no position sticking his blonde head into. He turned back to Klonoa,
"You sure you'll be okay? I don't want to lose you."

Hikaro's eyes were on Klonoa, even as the stony Hououza watched the sun fading from the window. There were so many things swirling about in Klonoa's head. So many contradictions, and trials he must face, and had survived already, and for one so young. For all Hikaro had been exasperated, he was proud of Klonoa, for his stregnth, and renewed sense of purpose. He was proud of his sense of justice, and his wanting to protect others, even those he did not know, and probably would never meet. He didn't fight Mirabelle for revenge, out of contempt, of violence, or for fame; he fought for what he believed in, and for what he believed was worth living for and what was worth dying for, and that conviction Hikaro believed was also worth dying for.

Hikaro's hand was still tingling from the caress from minutes ago. The memory vivid in his mind of the texture of Klonoa's skin, the soft breeze like whispers of his hair, the intense look in his eyes, the way his light lashes reflected sunlight, the curve of his lips...Hikaro could marvel at Klonoa's physical attraction on a purely platonic level, as an artist admiring beauty. Klonoa had what few posessed, beauty of mind and of body. In a serene moment such as this, he didn't mind watching with simple adoration. Klonoa...

"Yes...Everything is fine." Hikaro said, smiling at the cuteness that was Klonoa at the moment. Sighing deeply, Hikaro stood up, flexing out his spine, listening as pops rang out. MMMing in satisfaction, Hikaro shook out his wings, bounced from foot to foot a few times and finally stood still. He lightly touched the yellow mark under his left eye, but let his hand drop. He was a hououza with very few markings, unlike Klonoa here, who was nothing but marking. Hikaro smiled.
"Well, do you have anything to eat here? I'd say it was about time for dinner!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Close out~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If nothing else the seven days Hikaro spent beside Klonoa had only stregnthened his will to protect him. He'd seen Klonoa mature so much in such a short time, and the flowering of life firmed his resolve. Any fears he had before were quelled, and both had placed their utmost trust in the other. Klonoa still thought of him as a brother, and Hikaro accepted that as what it was meant to be. They...were meant to be together...

A sensation jarred his thoughts. Hikaro looked down at Klonoa's radiant face, and into the purple velvet softness of his eyes. Lightly he gave the hand in his own a reassuring squeeze, a gentle smile on his face. His own words echoed through his mind and he nodded.
"Together Klonoa we will win."

There was only the tick of time that awaited before Mirabelle, and before an uncertain confrontation.

Hikaro did as Klonoa instructed him to. His natural inclination was to rebuke Mirabelle, but his marble friend told him it was by no fault of her own she acted this way. Death was her master and death's word was her command. And so Hikaro's gaze was slightly mournful. He wished to free Mirabelle from her path of destruction and disgrace.

And as he could tell, it was working.

As the dark ball sped toward them, Hikaro extended one of his wings to shield Klonoa, exposing his back to the full impact. Unfortunately, his wing was not long enough, and Klonoa could still feel the malicious energy along his lower legs. Hikaro grunted slightly in pain as his feathers charred and the back of his shirt was scorched off. His hand clenched slightly, but soon slackened.

Flexing rather painfully, Hikaro brought his wing back in so he could watch for Mirabelle's next attack as it was sure to soon follow. This was what he agreed to do, and the scars that would adorn his body would only serve to remind him of the sacrifices made to protect what he truly valued.