There is no grave for Marcel Galliard back home. No marker or plaque honoring his death; no coffin draped in Marley's colors; no body left to bury. The Galliard family doesn't even know that Marcel is dead.

But Reiner knows. Reiner is the reason Marcel will never make it back home. Reiner is the reason Marcel died.

If Reiner had just reacted in time, if he'd moved instead of standing there like a useless fucking moron…

He holds the candle close, his broad shoulders curled inward, face twisted with grief, guilt, and regret. He wishes he could undo it. He wishes he could go back and protect Marcel instead of being protected. He wishes he'd died instead.

"I'm sorry," Reiner says as he lights the candle, crouched by the water's edge. He places it reverently in its floating lantern, then gently nudges the lantern onto the water. "This is as close as I can get you."

To crossing the ocean again. To going back home.

Part 1

Reiner dons his "oni" costume without a lick of self-consciousness, only wearing the mask (black and gold, covering his eyes) because it's required. He has no shame when it comes to his body. He knows he looks good, the outfit showing off his abs and almost the entirety of his chest. Why would he do anything other than strut his stuff?

He's not much for dancing, having never had time to learn. However, he's happy to flirt with other men, finding easy excuses to touch arms and shoulders. Any perceived lack of interest causes him to quickly move on, not wanting to dampen the mood.

And the mood is good, isn't it? The more time Reiner spends happily anonymous, sliding out of himself and into a role, the more cheerful he becomes.


Part 2

As time passes, that cheerful, flirty attitude takes on a different edge. Reiner's smiles grow sharper, hungrier, leaning in close as he eyes his conversation partner like they're a delicious meal. He's a big guy, six-foot-one with an envious physique, so it's hard to miss how much he starts looming.

Even that could be excused as mere lust. But when Reiner purrs, "You look good enough to eat," his tone makes the hair rise on one's nape.

He's not speaking metaphorically.