wizardmanor | Floor 2, Room 3

[Phil hums his agreement, the sound quiet and warm. While he would of course respect whatever choice Day made, that particular name holds a deeper meaning to him than the other. It is, after all, the name he'd paired with the words "I love you," a phrase he finds himself hoping to be able to repeat many times in the future.

Even in the end, he's still a little selfish... but maybe this time that's all right.]

I agree... it suits you well.

[He's certainly brought no end of joy to Phil, something Phil has no shame in admitting.]

Definitely ain't biased at all.

[ Said playfully to the both of them. But...he's happy they think the name suits him still.

Day closes his eyes, and thinks of the memory he wants to put in this vessel the most: the night of the meteor shower, where he and Phil sat close next to each other with their fingers laced together. How he had felt so overwhelmed with cathartic joy he'd so rarely experienced that he had nearly forgotten what it was like when Phil said "I do" in all the ways it could mean, and for the first in a long time he thought serenity was within his grasp.

(Other memories also slip in, because Day can't help it when he thinks of things that make him want to be remembered. Drinking with Yamato in his room; Ginger and him sitting by the window with wine-filled mugs. Holding onto Tatara's hand as the sage guided him through the scenery of his home and they watched that blimp in the sky that made the city look like a birthday cake. Akira tucking the sunflower behind his air. The look Kurapika had when he told him he reminded Day of his sister. Little and not-so-little things that Day found himself wishing he could be remembered for, things that were only possible because fate brought him to this world.) ]

[ The memories fill both vessels, each one a dense drop of color that paints the ocean canvas in rainbows and permanence. Covered as they are, he can’t see if the earrings change color, and distracted as he is by the memories, he doesn’t think to look just yet.

It is, perhaps, these memories that alone seem small, almost mundane - that should weigh nothing to a long-lived life - that makes him appreciate… experiencing them, even in this secondhand way. Even pennies weigh heavy when one adds them up; and the loss is felt when a single one is missing.

In his hands, these memories are far more precious than anything, and he hopes he can keep them safe. And - he hopes - by doing this, Day will understand his importance to Ginger, to Phil. ]

Floor 2, Room 3

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