Hanako didn’t sleep at night - maybe Arche was correct in thinking that the dead didn’t actually need rest, but he hadn’t been in the habit for a few decades now. So while most of the other denizens of the Oasis were in the clutches of slumber, he tended to stay up and stare at the stars.

Another thing they apparently shared in common? Making their way up to the roofs of their dwelling.

The boy didn’t know this at first: instead opting for his nightly sightseeing atop one of the makeshift huts until…

Was that crying?

It certainly sounded like it. Wrenching sobs, like someone coming undone at the seams. Normally, he would tell himself that it wasn’t his problem, there wasn’t much he could do but…

A sigh, and then he went searching for the source. Which turned out to, surprisingly, be Arche.

He hesitates for a moment, standing atop one of the roofs adjacent to the one she has huddled on. Touching her… probably wasn’t a good idea. Not without her knowing who was doing so and that he was nearby. So he tried the next best approach, speech.

“Nightmares?” It was a guess, one that humans had often at night, and the only thing aside from the crushing weight of reality that would get someone to cry. His voice was soft, cautious, as one foot stepped onto the roof.