Maybe it had been a bad idea to stay out of any city limits all night, but healing jutsu could cover sleep deprivation in a pinch. It wasn't too terrible as long as he didn't make a habit of it.
Although, Makoto thought maybe it was tempting to make a habit of it.
Oh, it wasn't just his quarreling teammates, who had actually become more subdued of lately. Perhaps they were finally becoming as exhausted with their infighting as he was. Nor was it just his recent revelations of his own moral compass, or the desire to stay away from people, or the latter except more due to his new companion occasionally popping in, or even to just give the phoenix flying time. (Albeit, the last certainly carried weight. It just wasn't the primary reason.)
No, it was the stars.
The stars that hung over Moon were in the same places, for the most part, being as they were in the same hemisphere. They made the same constellations, if he looked, although they might have had different ones here, or at least different names for the same arrangements. But whenever he was in Moon, he stayed in the city, and the only place he'd ever slept other than in the city was in the forest. Either the backwash of artificial light or the leaves always dimmed or covered the night sky. He'd never bothered scaling one of the peaks, either, and there weren't a lot of flat areas in Moon--almost none, if you took away the farmlands.
Always some obstruction. Here, sitting on a rocky outcropping facing away from the nearest city--Sand itself--with the rest of a sheer cliff of a mountain at the border of the desert behind him, endless waves of sheer sands in front of him as far as even a ninja eye could see... Yeah. Here there were no obstructions at all.
He'd been sitting there for some hours now, ever since he'd left Soon's Haven and the bar behind him and just decided...not to go back, for a while. The phoenix had come out and glided around, making silver spirals in the sky as soon as they were out of sight of human eyes. He'd scaled the rocks with his hands and feet, not bothering to take advantage of flight himself, and sat and watched. It hadn't taken long for his gaze to be drawn to the inky blackness above, thousands of brilliant white points of twinkling light dotting it.
There's so many, he didn't say, because he didn't want to say anything out loud.
The phoenix had fluttered over to him an hour earlier, and seemed content to simply hover about a foot off his shoulder, gazing up at the sky with him. Its own silvery light had been muted deliberately so it no longer trailed behind it, instead a dim glow that highlighted only the bird spirit itself, its features made visible. Neither of them even spoke mentally.
An hour or so before dawn, the sky began to lighten, gradually changing from pitch black to deep indigo, getting brighter with each passing minute, the coming sunlight chasing away the stars. A faint breeze danced through the air, lightly ruffling Makoto's hair. He still did not speak, head tilted to watch the fading stars, twinkling in the pale purple pre-dawn light. Next to him, the phoenix hovered, wings spread so the rightmost tip was a foot from his head, bobbing up and down gently in imitation of a corporeal bird. Behind them, obscured by the mountain, lay the moon, near-full and dimming itself as it set.
Finally, just at the top of the sun became visible on the horizon to both bird and ninja eyes, Makoto stood and stretched. His chakra shimmered over him in a faint blue-green aura, tinged with silver, as he repaired the damage done by a night of sleeplessness--weren't healing jutsu nice.
"I suppose I did call it a bit prematurely when I said you did not understand or appreciate aesthetic beauty in nature," the phoenix said at last, as Makoto deactivated his healing jutsu.
"You're not entirely incorrect, actually," he said, turning to look at the phoenix. It had lifted itself to his face level, which, tragically, wasn't much of an elevation change. "I just happen to like the stars...and the silence. It's relaxing out here."
"You've never been a people person," it observed. "I am rather impressed that you've been coping as well as you have."
Makoto snorted, in an undignified way he wouldn't have done in front of other people. "If I'd had to room with either of them, I'd be on the run from the authorities for first-degree murder right now."
He turned back toward the desert and started building up his chakra a bit. There was what felt like the faint, obscured edge of wind in there, but he still had difficulty reading the masked elements as what they technically were, underneath the cotton wool of his own native element. Withdrawing his parasol, he flicked it open at the same instant as stepping off the rocks and releasing the 'wind' chakra. The updraft combined with the parasol kept him from falling too rapidly, slowing his descent to a gentle fall instead of a heavy one. When his feet touched the ground, he put the parasol away again, feeling a bit smug.
It's not wings, but it'll do for some purposes.
The phoenix dove, executing the maneuver in a way that falcons would be envious of, and pulled up to a perfect midair halt right in front of him. Makoto rolled his eyes indulgently. So they both liked to show off.
"Easy to do when you can ignore physics," he said lightly.
"It isn't a terrible existence," the phoenix agreed as they started back in toward Sand. "Speaking of existence...I don't know as if I ever recall thanking you for allowing mine to continue."
"You're joking, right?" He halted in his steps and turned to look at it. They were around the rocks by now, so the sun was on the other side instead of in his eyes for the moment. "Considering how much you've helped me, how much your presence alone has helped me..."
"And caused you trouble, in turn," it pointed out. "Including such things as that entire bout with empathy, which you would not have been subject to were it not for me. I know you denied it for the most part, but the fact remains that entire series of events that led to it would not have happened had you never met me."
"I can't say what sort of person I would have been in that case," he said thoughtfully, resuming walking. It followed at a leisurely pace in the air. "But...well, no, I suppose I could, since I forgot about you for years and years after we met the first time. Honestly? I don't like the me I was before that. I wasn't an especially happy person. I basically coasted through life, not really trying except when I had to. Every time I did something nice for someone, it wasn't just to do it. It was because they were part of a puzzle I wanted to solve. That me definitely would have thought twice before...before the temple, and the sandworm. Might not have even done either, even given the chance. And I suppose...I suppose I prefer to be the person who would do those things."
The phoenix trilled softly. "Once again, being hard on yourself and your own morality. But then, that is not so uncommon a failing in people who consistently help others."
Makoto didn't know what to say to that, so he just shrugged awkwardly. He only really had helped people on orders before, or because it was an interesting puzzle--like with Fumiko, or the Storm God. He felt that the phoenix--and his brother, for that matter--attributed better qualities of morality to him than he had.
"At some point in the future, perhaps you will learn to take compliments on things other than your intellect and skills," it said mildly. "Regardless, that wasn't the subject I was aiming at today. Do you recall that when I woke again, I told you I was still recovering?"
He thought about it, then nodded slowly. "You said you were entering the next phase of your recovery. I had thought you were fully recovered when you were able to manifest outside of me again?"
"Not...precisely." A soundless beak clack. "That just meant I had enough energy to do that again. I have only become able to reach my full energy reserves again in the last day or so. I hadn't told you as I was making sure of it first."
A fleeting feeling of panic, which Makoto suppressed before it came out in his voice--which still came out slightly strained. "Does that mean--"
"We really must cure this abandonment complex of yours,"the phoenix said seriously, cutting him off. "I cannot even tell where it comes from, for that matter, since you have never really been abandoned by anyone. I am not going anywhere. No, what I was speaking of was that we have reached the point where I will be able to temporarily lend you my power sometimes, when you have need of it."
"Wasn't that what happened before?' He frowned. "With the...the light, and the aura."
"Not precisely. That was more of a filter." It swept up in front of him and halted midair, hovering. He stopped as well. The phoenix appeared brighter than the nearly-vanished stars by far now, framed against the lightening pinkish-purple background of the dawn sky. "This would be...lending you my power in the more traditional sense. Traditional as you understand it, anyway. I doubt I have to explain the full of it to you; Moon has ever been a spiritual place."
Makoto thought that was a rather charitable way to put 'shady theocratically-run semi-dictatorship' but then, the phoenix was a charitable sort of being. He nodded slowly. "I...see. You really don't have to do that, you know."
"You did not have to do nearly anything you have done to help me or others, regardless of what you thought or felt at the time," it said easily. "The fact that you thought or felt that you had to speaks more of you than you know. But I know I do not have to. I want to. I would not offer that sort of kinship to just anyone, you know, not even for saving me previously."
He remained silent for a moment, considering. "...You said, before, once, that you were a sort of island guardian for Moon. Would I be obligated to do anything about that?"
"Would it at all change your mind if I said yes?" the phoenix asked gently. His lack of answer appeared to be enough for it. "I thought so. In truth, you are rather already a guardian of your homeland. It would change nothing for you even if the answer were yes. But Moon has not needed a spirit guardian in many a year, and even if it had, there are others than me. I know that you are stalling because you do not want to be the sort of person who reaches for power. That is a good thing to avoid becoming. But you are not that sort of person, and accepting would not make you such."
"It wouldn't...prevent you from coming out and flying on your own, would it?" he asked hesitantly, still uncomfortable with being chastised for thinking ill of himself. "Or harm you?"
"No." It clacked its beak soundlessly again. "I would be in effectively the same condition as now. Our consciousnesses might merge to a degree if you needed to draw on more of my power, but that is reversible. I am sure you know all the details of a normal possession, since I am well aware you have read of them."
He had, and more extensively at that when he had returned home from Sand the first time. "You're going to say I worry too much, aren't you."
"It isn't that common a quality in a youngest child, but yes, I think you do." It tilted its head thoughtfully. "Possibly this is the source of your desire to remain constantly prepared, although I am coming around a little to your point of view on that score. Previously I had never any reason to consider stocking up on equipment and other such things, but I could have prepared myself more in other ways, in many instances. And do not think I don't know what you are doing."
"Not the world's best at changing a subject, I know." He tilted his head to the sky again; there were faint wisps of pink clouds near the horizon, but the rest of it was clear and nearly pure blue now. "Honestly? That sounds useful. I could do with it sometimes, I'm sure. And on a more personal note, I'm...thinking you intend this as partially an apology for the whole empathy thing, and for those years where you were draining my chakra a bit. I don't think you need to apologize, but I'm not going to decline it if you do."
"So you are not sure if you accept the apology?" It peered at him, seemingly anxiously.
"I'm not sure you need to apologize at all," he corrected. "From my point of view, there's nothing to forgive. But then. I only take offense from things like betrayal or lying to me anyway. The only thing you've ever done as far as I'm concerned that you need to apologize to me for was the time you tried to motivate me by lying and saying you could carry me if I fell of a cliff--and you already apologized for that, and have done nothing like it again." Makoto paused, and added, "Though, I think that...saying that you don't feel as though there is anything to forgive is not as relieving as saying that you forgive them, for some people. Maybe because it doesn't feel as if you've earned something you felt you needed to work toward? But I prefer to be honest when I can, since lies are so difficult to keep track of and waste brainpower in the keeping track of them, so I can't say that I recall any time I held a grudge against you, not a real one anyway. Not honestly, anyway. So I suppose I can't really say I forgive you, or that I think you have anything to apologize for..."
He trailed off to see its posture had gone from anxious to amused. "Well, that answers that question. As well as several others. Still, if it is not an apology, I suppose you must take it as a thank you. And yes, I am aware you do not feel as though you need thanked. I do feel the need to thank you."
He blinked owlishly. "Well...that I can accept. I suppose. If I must." He added, somewhat airily, "It would be rude not to."
Airs aside, it did make him slightly nervous--but he really wasn't accepting it just for the power, which of course the phoenix knew ahead of time or it wouldn't have offered, and to refuse out of fear of what his true desires were was insulting someone who he knew knew better. Even though he likewise knew it wouldn't take offense.
Besides...it would be useful. And this is something that I do want. I'm allowed that, occasionally. Right?
He was fairly sure what the phoenix would say if he had voiced that question, so he didn't ask.
Taking this (correctly) as the acceptance it had be waiting for, it imperceptibly relaxed, glowing a touch brighter even with the sun rising behind him casting light onto it. "Thank you. This might be...uncomfortable, at first, just to let you know."
"And as you know, that's a deal-breaker with me." He quirked an eyebrow to show he was joking. Mostly because, at one point in his life, it might well have not been a joke.
But then, it couldn't be worse than originally accepting the phoenix, and he'd done that when he was four. And it certainly couldn't be worse than enduring months on months of oversensitive empathy.
The silvery glow brightened, and brightened again, and then the phoenix swooped at him to land on his head. It did not escape his notice that he didn't feel any weight, as usual since it was not a corporeal being, but he still felt the warmth spreading through him. Only this time, it was much faster than usual, reaching his toes almost the second the phoenix landed on him. When he looked at his hands, the light was spilling off them as well--his own chakra had occasionally acquired a silver tinge in the past, but it was normally a shimmery blue-green. However, the blue-green itself seemed to have acquired a translucent silver coating, or perhaps the silver was a third colour mixing itself in as well. It was difficult to tell through the glow.
Strangely, he didn't feel any need to close his eyes. The light was bright, but not in a way that hurt his eyes as sunlight would. It was cooler, gentler than that.
After a second, he realized he could feel it rather than just see it, blending into his own chakra and settling over him like a warm down blanket. It itched for a moment as the hooks of the silver chakra dug into his own, but it soon settled in surprisingly smoothly.
Gradually, the light faded with the sensation, leaving only the clear blue sky of early morning, the light spilling from the sun now fully above the horizen behind him and reflecting off the sand. He knew, without opening his eyes (when had they closed? He had seen the glow the whole time, even so), that the phoenix had retreated within him again.
You okay?
Fine, do not worry. I simply expended a fair amount of energy on the final merger. I need to rest for a time, perhaps a day or so. It is nothing to be concerned about.
If you say so. And something had changed; he could detect that it was telling the truth now, as well as detecting its own level of energy. When he summoned his own chakra, the silver had merged into it to give the normal blue-green a sheen, making it look more toward transparency than usual.
And in many ways he felt...lighter. Which was not what he would have expected from a merging with a spirit, but perhaps what he should have expected from merging with this spirit.
He knew too, without asking, that the phoenix would be able to come out and fly again after recovering, and that it would benefit from this in ways it hadn't wanted to tell him because it didn't want to admit to actually desiring more power in some ways itself, either.
Perhaps they were more similar than either of them had realized.
Makoto took a deep breath, exhaled, then resumed walking in the desert back toward Sand and his traveling companions, letting the phoenix rest. There would be time for testing later.
He didn't notice the snow-white feathers that had settled softly on the sands behind him.
[S-Rank; 30 Min to Enter/Exit]
Although, Makoto thought maybe it was tempting to make a habit of it.
Oh, it wasn't just his quarreling teammates, who had actually become more subdued of lately. Perhaps they were finally becoming as exhausted with their infighting as he was. Nor was it just his recent revelations of his own moral compass, or the desire to stay away from people, or the latter except more due to his new companion occasionally popping in, or even to just give the phoenix flying time. (Albeit, the last certainly carried weight. It just wasn't the primary reason.)
No, it was the stars.
The stars that hung over Moon were in the same places, for the most part, being as they were in the same hemisphere. They made the same constellations, if he looked, although they might have had different ones here, or at least different names for the same arrangements. But whenever he was in Moon, he stayed in the city, and the only place he'd ever slept other than in the city was in the forest. Either the backwash of artificial light or the leaves always dimmed or covered the night sky. He'd never bothered scaling one of the peaks, either, and there weren't a lot of flat areas in Moon--almost none, if you took away the farmlands.
Always some obstruction. Here, sitting on a rocky outcropping facing away from the nearest city--Sand itself--with the rest of a sheer cliff of a mountain at the border of the desert behind him, endless waves of sheer sands in front of him as far as even a ninja eye could see... Yeah. Here there were no obstructions at all.
He'd been sitting there for some hours now, ever since he'd left Soon's Haven and the bar behind him and just decided...not to go back, for a while. The phoenix had come out and glided around, making silver spirals in the sky as soon as they were out of sight of human eyes. He'd scaled the rocks with his hands and feet, not bothering to take advantage of flight himself, and sat and watched. It hadn't taken long for his gaze to be drawn to the inky blackness above, thousands of brilliant white points of twinkling light dotting it.
There's so many, he didn't say, because he didn't want to say anything out loud.
The phoenix had fluttered over to him an hour earlier, and seemed content to simply hover about a foot off his shoulder, gazing up at the sky with him. Its own silvery light had been muted deliberately so it no longer trailed behind it, instead a dim glow that highlighted only the bird spirit itself, its features made visible. Neither of them even spoke mentally.
An hour or so before dawn, the sky began to lighten, gradually changing from pitch black to deep indigo, getting brighter with each passing minute, the coming sunlight chasing away the stars. A faint breeze danced through the air, lightly ruffling Makoto's hair. He still did not speak, head tilted to watch the fading stars, twinkling in the pale purple pre-dawn light. Next to him, the phoenix hovered, wings spread so the rightmost tip was a foot from his head, bobbing up and down gently in imitation of a corporeal bird. Behind them, obscured by the mountain, lay the moon, near-full and dimming itself as it set.
Finally, just at the top of the sun became visible on the horizon to both bird and ninja eyes, Makoto stood and stretched. His chakra shimmered over him in a faint blue-green aura, tinged with silver, as he repaired the damage done by a night of sleeplessness--weren't healing jutsu nice.
"I suppose I did call it a bit prematurely when I said you did not understand or appreciate aesthetic beauty in nature," the phoenix said at last, as Makoto deactivated his healing jutsu.
"You're not entirely incorrect, actually," he said, turning to look at the phoenix. It had lifted itself to his face level, which, tragically, wasn't much of an elevation change. "I just happen to like the stars...and the silence. It's relaxing out here."
"You've never been a people person," it observed. "I am rather impressed that you've been coping as well as you have."
Makoto snorted, in an undignified way he wouldn't have done in front of other people. "If I'd had to room with either of them, I'd be on the run from the authorities for first-degree murder right now."
He turned back toward the desert and started building up his chakra a bit. There was what felt like the faint, obscured edge of wind in there, but he still had difficulty reading the masked elements as what they technically were, underneath the cotton wool of his own native element. Withdrawing his parasol, he flicked it open at the same instant as stepping off the rocks and releasing the 'wind' chakra. The updraft combined with the parasol kept him from falling too rapidly, slowing his descent to a gentle fall instead of a heavy one. When his feet touched the ground, he put the parasol away again, feeling a bit smug.
It's not wings, but it'll do for some purposes.
The phoenix dove, executing the maneuver in a way that falcons would be envious of, and pulled up to a perfect midair halt right in front of him. Makoto rolled his eyes indulgently. So they both liked to show off.
"Easy to do when you can ignore physics," he said lightly.
"It isn't a terrible existence," the phoenix agreed as they started back in toward Sand. "Speaking of existence...I don't know as if I ever recall thanking you for allowing mine to continue."
"You're joking, right?" He halted in his steps and turned to look at it. They were around the rocks by now, so the sun was on the other side instead of in his eyes for the moment. "Considering how much you've helped me, how much your presence alone has helped me..."
"And caused you trouble, in turn," it pointed out. "Including such things as that entire bout with empathy, which you would not have been subject to were it not for me. I know you denied it for the most part, but the fact remains that entire series of events that led to it would not have happened had you never met me."
"I can't say what sort of person I would have been in that case," he said thoughtfully, resuming walking. It followed at a leisurely pace in the air. "But...well, no, I suppose I could, since I forgot about you for years and years after we met the first time. Honestly? I don't like the me I was before that. I wasn't an especially happy person. I basically coasted through life, not really trying except when I had to. Every time I did something nice for someone, it wasn't just to do it. It was because they were part of a puzzle I wanted to solve. That me definitely would have thought twice before...before the temple, and the sandworm. Might not have even done either, even given the chance. And I suppose...I suppose I prefer to be the person who would do those things."
The phoenix trilled softly. "Once again, being hard on yourself and your own morality. But then, that is not so uncommon a failing in people who consistently help others."
Makoto didn't know what to say to that, so he just shrugged awkwardly. He only really had helped people on orders before, or because it was an interesting puzzle--like with Fumiko, or the Storm God. He felt that the phoenix--and his brother, for that matter--attributed better qualities of morality to him than he had.
"At some point in the future, perhaps you will learn to take compliments on things other than your intellect and skills," it said mildly. "Regardless, that wasn't the subject I was aiming at today. Do you recall that when I woke again, I told you I was still recovering?"
He thought about it, then nodded slowly. "You said you were entering the next phase of your recovery. I had thought you were fully recovered when you were able to manifest outside of me again?"
"Not...precisely." A soundless beak clack. "That just meant I had enough energy to do that again. I have only become able to reach my full energy reserves again in the last day or so. I hadn't told you as I was making sure of it first."
A fleeting feeling of panic, which Makoto suppressed before it came out in his voice--which still came out slightly strained. "Does that mean--"
"We really must cure this abandonment complex of yours,"the phoenix said seriously, cutting him off. "I cannot even tell where it comes from, for that matter, since you have never really been abandoned by anyone. I am not going anywhere. No, what I was speaking of was that we have reached the point where I will be able to temporarily lend you my power sometimes, when you have need of it."
"Wasn't that what happened before?' He frowned. "With the...the light, and the aura."
"Not precisely. That was more of a filter." It swept up in front of him and halted midair, hovering. He stopped as well. The phoenix appeared brighter than the nearly-vanished stars by far now, framed against the lightening pinkish-purple background of the dawn sky. "This would be...lending you my power in the more traditional sense. Traditional as you understand it, anyway. I doubt I have to explain the full of it to you; Moon has ever been a spiritual place."
Makoto thought that was a rather charitable way to put 'shady theocratically-run semi-dictatorship' but then, the phoenix was a charitable sort of being. He nodded slowly. "I...see. You really don't have to do that, you know."
"You did not have to do nearly anything you have done to help me or others, regardless of what you thought or felt at the time," it said easily. "The fact that you thought or felt that you had to speaks more of you than you know. But I know I do not have to. I want to. I would not offer that sort of kinship to just anyone, you know, not even for saving me previously."
He remained silent for a moment, considering. "...You said, before, once, that you were a sort of island guardian for Moon. Would I be obligated to do anything about that?"
"Would it at all change your mind if I said yes?" the phoenix asked gently. His lack of answer appeared to be enough for it. "I thought so. In truth, you are rather already a guardian of your homeland. It would change nothing for you even if the answer were yes. But Moon has not needed a spirit guardian in many a year, and even if it had, there are others than me. I know that you are stalling because you do not want to be the sort of person who reaches for power. That is a good thing to avoid becoming. But you are not that sort of person, and accepting would not make you such."
"It wouldn't...prevent you from coming out and flying on your own, would it?" he asked hesitantly, still uncomfortable with being chastised for thinking ill of himself. "Or harm you?"
"No." It clacked its beak soundlessly again. "I would be in effectively the same condition as now. Our consciousnesses might merge to a degree if you needed to draw on more of my power, but that is reversible. I am sure you know all the details of a normal possession, since I am well aware you have read of them."
He had, and more extensively at that when he had returned home from Sand the first time. "You're going to say I worry too much, aren't you."
"It isn't that common a quality in a youngest child, but yes, I think you do." It tilted its head thoughtfully. "Possibly this is the source of your desire to remain constantly prepared, although I am coming around a little to your point of view on that score. Previously I had never any reason to consider stocking up on equipment and other such things, but I could have prepared myself more in other ways, in many instances. And do not think I don't know what you are doing."
"Not the world's best at changing a subject, I know." He tilted his head to the sky again; there were faint wisps of pink clouds near the horizon, but the rest of it was clear and nearly pure blue now. "Honestly? That sounds useful. I could do with it sometimes, I'm sure. And on a more personal note, I'm...thinking you intend this as partially an apology for the whole empathy thing, and for those years where you were draining my chakra a bit. I don't think you need to apologize, but I'm not going to decline it if you do."
"So you are not sure if you accept the apology?" It peered at him, seemingly anxiously.
"I'm not sure you need to apologize at all," he corrected. "From my point of view, there's nothing to forgive. But then. I only take offense from things like betrayal or lying to me anyway. The only thing you've ever done as far as I'm concerned that you need to apologize to me for was the time you tried to motivate me by lying and saying you could carry me if I fell of a cliff--and you already apologized for that, and have done nothing like it again." Makoto paused, and added, "Though, I think that...saying that you don't feel as though there is anything to forgive is not as relieving as saying that you forgive them, for some people. Maybe because it doesn't feel as if you've earned something you felt you needed to work toward? But I prefer to be honest when I can, since lies are so difficult to keep track of and waste brainpower in the keeping track of them, so I can't say that I recall any time I held a grudge against you, not a real one anyway. Not honestly, anyway. So I suppose I can't really say I forgive you, or that I think you have anything to apologize for..."
He trailed off to see its posture had gone from anxious to amused. "Well, that answers that question. As well as several others. Still, if it is not an apology, I suppose you must take it as a thank you. And yes, I am aware you do not feel as though you need thanked. I do feel the need to thank you."
He blinked owlishly. "Well...that I can accept. I suppose. If I must." He added, somewhat airily, "It would be rude not to."
Airs aside, it did make him slightly nervous--but he really wasn't accepting it just for the power, which of course the phoenix knew ahead of time or it wouldn't have offered, and to refuse out of fear of what his true desires were was insulting someone who he knew knew better. Even though he likewise knew it wouldn't take offense.
Besides...it would be useful. And this is something that I do want. I'm allowed that, occasionally. Right?
He was fairly sure what the phoenix would say if he had voiced that question, so he didn't ask.
Taking this (correctly) as the acceptance it had be waiting for, it imperceptibly relaxed, glowing a touch brighter even with the sun rising behind him casting light onto it. "Thank you. This might be...uncomfortable, at first, just to let you know."
"And as you know, that's a deal-breaker with me." He quirked an eyebrow to show he was joking. Mostly because, at one point in his life, it might well have not been a joke.
But then, it couldn't be worse than originally accepting the phoenix, and he'd done that when he was four. And it certainly couldn't be worse than enduring months on months of oversensitive empathy.
The silvery glow brightened, and brightened again, and then the phoenix swooped at him to land on his head. It did not escape his notice that he didn't feel any weight, as usual since it was not a corporeal being, but he still felt the warmth spreading through him. Only this time, it was much faster than usual, reaching his toes almost the second the phoenix landed on him. When he looked at his hands, the light was spilling off them as well--his own chakra had occasionally acquired a silver tinge in the past, but it was normally a shimmery blue-green. However, the blue-green itself seemed to have acquired a translucent silver coating, or perhaps the silver was a third colour mixing itself in as well. It was difficult to tell through the glow.
Strangely, he didn't feel any need to close his eyes. The light was bright, but not in a way that hurt his eyes as sunlight would. It was cooler, gentler than that.
After a second, he realized he could feel it rather than just see it, blending into his own chakra and settling over him like a warm down blanket. It itched for a moment as the hooks of the silver chakra dug into his own, but it soon settled in surprisingly smoothly.
Gradually, the light faded with the sensation, leaving only the clear blue sky of early morning, the light spilling from the sun now fully above the horizen behind him and reflecting off the sand. He knew, without opening his eyes (when had they closed? He had seen the glow the whole time, even so), that the phoenix had retreated within him again.
You okay?
Fine, do not worry. I simply expended a fair amount of energy on the final merger. I need to rest for a time, perhaps a day or so. It is nothing to be concerned about.
If you say so. And something had changed; he could detect that it was telling the truth now, as well as detecting its own level of energy. When he summoned his own chakra, the silver had merged into it to give the normal blue-green a sheen, making it look more toward transparency than usual.
And in many ways he felt...lighter. Which was not what he would have expected from a merging with a spirit, but perhaps what he should have expected from merging with this spirit.
He knew too, without asking, that the phoenix would be able to come out and fly again after recovering, and that it would benefit from this in ways it hadn't wanted to tell him because it didn't want to admit to actually desiring more power in some ways itself, either.
Perhaps they were more similar than either of them had realized.
Makoto took a deep breath, exhaled, then resumed walking in the desert back toward Sand and his traveling companions, letting the phoenix rest. There would be time for testing later.
He didn't notice the snow-white feathers that had settled softly on the sands behind him.
[S-Rank; 30 Min to Enter/Exit]