Dreamcraft

Author: White Cat
Rating: G
Genre: Drama. One-shot.
Status: Complete.
Pairing: Ban + Ginji.
Summary: Ban reflects on dreams.

Ban, over the years, has become a master of crafting dreams. When the split-second window of the Jagan opens and he looks inside a person's soul, he knows instinctively what to go after, what sort of weaknesses or joys he can exploit to make the dream work. It's not difficult. Both of the old women in his life have stressed constantly the importance of keeping his skills honed.

He knows exactly how to find the hidden dark pieces of a man's soul and link them together, and then spin them into something cohesive. The Jagan and the serpent in his blood lie so closely entertwined that it is second nature to him: he rarely needs to think before he knows.

Conversely, however, he has been less skilled at making up dreams for himself. Even now, most of them are things he made up for Ginji's smile, so that the blond knows they're working for something, and that there's a goal to life beyond merely getting through each day.

Somewhere along the way, he found himself believing that. If he gives it thought, maybe he would pinpoint it around the time Ginji left the Mugenjou the second time, confident by his side. He knows he could--and would--survive on his own if it happened; Yamato's promise holds him immobile from the grave, and he can't fall behind until after his obligation is fulfilled.

But he also knows that he prefers not to survive. Living is the option that has meaning.

Dreams mean nothing if you don't believe in them; the Jagan operates on this principle. And Ban looks at Ginji in the sunlight and thinks that, perhaps, some part of him has agreed with the pretty lies he's been telling all along. Somewhere in their future is a comfortable apartment and a respectable office, separate from the Honky Tonk. Somewhere there is easy money, without Hevn's negotiator fees sliced off the top.

These are the things Ginji wants, because he doesn't know any better, and this is what he has learned from Ban. Underneath that, though, the boy with the rain-hazed eyes stares out and whispers, Somewhere where I'm not alone.

Each time they touch, shoulders bumping or hands brushing, it's a promise reaffirmed, one more brick laid in the foundation of a dream. As long as he has this, Ban thinks, the rest will eventually come true. Ginji's got enough faith to make believers of everyone.

"Ginji," Ban says, and waves their night's earnings under his partner's nose. "We can afford meat tonight!"

And Ginij's eyes sparkle, like a child's, or like the world after rain. His smile is brilliant, the knife-edge of honest glee that's always, from the beginning, been the one thing that's unraveled Ban's dream-crafts from fiction to reality. This won't fade in a minute, though, solid as any old memory brought to life by one of the old hag's cards.

"Meat!" Ginji agrees, cheerfully, before he takes off running at full tilt. Ban jogs to keep up, with his eyes fixed on the back of Ginji's sun-blond head. As long as he has it in his sights, he thinks, the dream will still be real, and he can still believe.

In the end, that's the only thing he'd ask for himself.