"So, what has the esteemed Mr. Spearen elected to call this poor Daoist for?" 

"Heh. If you're really that mystical shouldn't you already know?" Sayan stands in the balcony of his house, the chilly evening breeze whipping past him, however all his attention is focused on the phone in his hand.

"Unfortunately, this poor one's mediocre abilities do not extend to the art of divination...or at least not the divination you're used to-"

"Yeah, yeah, say whatever you want."

"-However, if the esteemed Mr. Spearen does wish to gain some knowledge on the stars-"

Sayan grits his teeth at the unflappable voice, his grip on the phone tightening so that his knuckles turn white. 

"Cut the bullcrap and tell it to me straight, can you help me or not?"

"...ah well see, at times the stars aren't always..."

"How much do you want?"

"Ah money, why must we always discuss these mortal vulgarities-"

"Fine, you don't want money? I'll owe you a favor."

"Ah but the esteemed Mr. Spearen is a very powerful man, how can a poor Daoist such as I ever-"

"I'll give it to you in paper, and you can add whatever mumbo jumbo to it." Sayan snaps coldly.

"Really? You'll sign a magic contract?" Sayan feels his brow twitch at the other's immediate change in tone however, with Arek's sobbing filling his head, he agrees. 

"Well, then when would the esteemed-"

"Not this week, I have a funeral to prepare for. Next week, Friday. The same time as before."

"Ah, the esteemed Mr. Spearen is quite brave, after all, it is Friday the 13th-" Click. Sayan hangs up and lets out a ghusty sigh, leaning against the balcony railing. Suddenly he blinks, hearing a vague thud from within the room behind him. Arek...Immediatly, Sayan spins around and rushes into the house. Sprinting into the other's room, he sees a half conscious Arek banging his head against the wall. Cursing, Sayan grabs him and fiercely pulls him back.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry Sean, I'm sorry!" Arek cries as Sayan struggles to hold him back. Later that night, Sayan exhaustedly calls his secretary.

"Yes Mr. Spearen?"

"Move the date up, for the funeral."

"Up? But isn't it already in three days?"

"I want it tomorrow. Make it happen."

"Alright."

Sighing, Sayan slowly pulls the phone away from his ear and sinks his body to a crouch, eying the passed out Arek with tear tracks surrounding his eyes. Hopefully this should bring him some closure...

The next morning sunlight filters into the room through the window as birds twitter outside the house. Arek's eyes slowly flutter open. For one moment he gazes at the white ceiling in confusion and the next minute it comes back to him. Scrambling up, Arek pauses as he sees Sayan awkwardly sleeping next to him, half on the bed, half off.

Opening and closing his mouth silently for a moment, Arek finally decides to let his brother rest. This resolve is strengthened when his mind catches flashes of the previous night. Why is he here? I know that I definitely had my old nightmare...did he stay up with me or something? That's stupid, why would my steely, ice cold brother-

Pausing mid thought, Arek decides to just shelve the thought and think of it later. For now I need food...Walking up to the kitchen, Arek pauses. I haven't used a stove since, well I never even used on before. And although I've cooked a lot, it was always over an open fire or something in the other world, I've never used modern appliances myself...you know what? Let's just make toast. Going with the safe option, Arek toasts himself a couple slices of bread. By the time Sayan gets up, Arek is lying on the couch upside down dangling the last piece of toast above his face.

Groaning and rubbing his face, Sayan strides out of Arek's bedroom. Spotting the other haphazardly lying on the couch, he casually says "By the way, Sean's funeral is today." Immediately, the sound of violent coughing comes from the couch.

"Cough! Cough cough! What?"

"I said today is Sean's funeral."

"When?"

"Tonight."

"...alright." And after that, there's no more said between the two brothers as they eat their breakfasts silently, each with his own thoughts.