Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

All the sharp things I've kept in my mouth

Rin always liked falling into a routine – it was easy to have one. Day after day, he would know exactly what he was up to ; waking up before the sun, going for a jog with music blasting in his headphones – one of those which are perfect for him, because they resonate with the same rhythm every time – then he would go to school, where he would sit at the same place for every class. More often than not, he would head to the coffee shop down his road to study before coming home.

The place was like any coffee shop – bright when the sun was high in the sky and with a gentle, pleasant ambiance made by plants and music chosen by the barman. Three days per week it was Yukimiya who would greet him with a polite smile, his hands already brewing his order – a flat white. The other days of the week, it was Nagi behind the counter – who wouldn’t even look up from his phone, but still knew what Rin wanted. If it wasn’t for the small badge on his shirt, Rin wouldn’t have known he was working here – not like he cared anyway. 

His favorite spot was the table near one of the windows. From here, he had the perfect light most of the time to draw. When the sun wasn’t on his side, he would take his computer and work on his papers instead of losing time on something as stupid as drawing. No one would bother him anyway. The people working here knew better than to try talking with him. People in general knew better – he wasn't interested in talking, with his cold eyes and rude demeanor. Which was fine, because Rin built his walls brick by brick with his own hands. 

And if sometimes, the fleeting want of destroying everything – the routine, the life he constructed for himself, the house he inhabited alone – came into his mind, he would brush it off as quickly. 

But destroying wasn't meant to be by his own hands. Rin should have known, really – it has been naive to think otherwise. Like an ignorant child, he thought he had his own life in his hands. That he was his for once.

So, at first, Rin thought of a joke. It should be it – because he liked his routine and the way his life was on perfect tracks. He liked to come home and prepare some boiled chicken for the stray cats down his block. He liked to eat some ramen noodles while working his ass off until late at night, sometimes with his friends’ voices in his headphones. He liked to wash, rinse and repeat every day. But also, also – he had forbidden himself to think about his stupid brother. No more shattered glass at the idea of seeing him again, no more watery eyes every time he would remember how empty his house was, no more sleepless nights about thinking how he could have done better – if only he had just been enough.

But the message was there, on his screen, the words Saw wrote for him ; I am home. That was all – three words after years of silence. Three words after everything– and Rin knew how stupid it was to be angry over it. He thought everything would come crashing down on him like a waterfall of memories he didn’t want.

The thing was – Rin had always been lucky. He didn’t like to use his own luck on useless things (like the winning stick of the popsicles he would share with Sae–) but the world – or the Fates, or whatever people would like to call it – wasn’t agreeing with him. The moment he put down his phone, still on the same conversation with no answer, someone sat in front of him, cutting any echo of the past from his mind.

In any other circumstances, Rin would have snapped. Fuck off, he would have said. Why would a lukewarm stranger sit in front of me?, he would have asked in a cold voice, a scowl on his face. His eyes met the Sun and Rin wasn't sure how he was still alive – inside his bones, his flesh and his skin. Because the stranger was beaming like a fire no one was capable of extinguish. It didn’t make him melt ; it burned everything – the regrets, the rage, the bitterness. 

“Finally!,” the stranger exclaimed like it was any normal conversation. “I got a hold of you!” 

I don't know you, thought Rin, but no word disguised his lips. Nothing could have prepared him for this – neither for the message, nor for this strange meeting. No one could have predicted this, and Rin hated it with every atom of his being. He didn't chase the stranger away.

“I bet you're asking what are they doing? and I will answer you right now – I want you to tattoo me!”

Rin blinked. The stranger smiled. “You– what?” was all Rin could answer. He was smart – he knew a lot of complicated, foolish words that no one would read outside his papers. He was the best in any classes he could take. He always had answers to everything, and when he didn’t, he would read everything he could about the subject. (A long time ago, he read a whole dictionary and learned every definition he could find there after Sae mocked him for not knowing what a diatribe was.) But at this moment – he had nothing. Being smart didn't make him aware of what to do in social interactions, even if he learned how to handle them with time – not with a stranger. Especially not this stranger. 

Stranger who leaned in, grinning, his eyes flickering everywhere around them – on Rin's half emptied cup, on his char-coaled hands, on his grimacing face. Rin was kind of used to being observed – Hiori was a master in this – but not like this. “Are you fucking mocking me?,” Rin still asked, scoffing. 

The other– they had the audacity to let their head roll and laugh. They made some dramatic gesture, swinging in their chair, a hand over their heart. “Me? No way. I told you – I want you to tattoo me!” 

Rin didn’t answer. How could he? The stranger probably took it like some sort of go ahead, because they put their knees against their chest and looked at Rin with the same smile they had when entering.

“My body is half of a canvas – something that needs to be used with ink and colors,” and their smile reached their eyes. It seemed the easiest thing they did in their life. “And I want you to paint on me.” 

Rin narrowed his eyes. His head was still empty of any thought. But still, still, he stayed here, barely breathing – he didn’t want the clouds to stain the Sun. “I don't tattoo.”

“You don’t have to,” retorted the other, pointing at the forgotten sketchbook in front of Rin. “Draw whatever you want and I’ll put it on my skin!”

It’s stupid, and it was the first coherent thought Rin made of the whole conversation. Why would a stranger – who knew nothing about him – wanted him to ink their body?

“No,” Rin answered and it sounded like a fatality. It sounded like the end of a story that didn't even have the chance to start. “My drawings are not to be sold.”

But the Sun sitting across the table didn't waver – it smiled and smiled and smiled and Rin's heart melted because he never had the arrogance to be strong against so much light. “Then let me tattoo you!”

The silence answered the words, hanging like some sort of Damocles' sword. The stranger tilted their head like they just said the most logical thing in the world. Rin stayed dumbfounded, lips pinched to not let useless words spill out of his mouth. “You know what– you don't have to answer me. Here! Take my card! Swing by the shop and I'll make sure to make time for you!”

Rin didn't take the card. He didn’t move. He watched the stranger put it on the table, throw a wink in his direction, and closed the door behind them. Rin didn’t say anything for a long time. He looked at the door, the usual half silence of the coffee shop way too loud for his own head. When he finally snapped out of his haze, mechanically cleaning up the table, his thoughts didn’t quite catch up to whatever just happened. 

“It sounded like a pain,” he heard from Nagi when he walked up the door. No, Rin thought. It didn't.

In the two years of knowing each other, Rin called Hiori two times. The first one was at three in the morning, and Rin was coming home from some stupid party thrown by someone called Oliver Aiku – who was way older than him, more cool and probably with less traumas than him too. Actually, Rin wasn't even  sure what Aiku looked like, because he never talked to him.

He didn’t really get invited – he heard about it in class and the person said Everyone who wants to come should come! so Rin went for some stupid reason. Melancholia was stupid, no matter how he turned it into his hands. It wasn’t like he was used to solitude – even when he was living with Sae, well before he abandoned him, he was lonely. But sometimes even the most used feeling was unbearable – and Rin wasn't made to be perfect. (Even if he wanted to. He wanted to be perfect, like a childish dream made of stardust – but nothing tangible. Nothing he could touch. He was a man of science, and yet he couldn't go away from this dream.)

The beer had been handed by some random guy Rin didn't catch the name. Rin took the first sip of it alone, his face in a scowl – he hated it. Before he could even put down the beer, he felt his own body rejecting everything – the noise, the touch, the scent of alcohol all around him. He knew, deep down, he was having a panic attack – making his head spin and his cheek flush in heat waves. He wanted to swing his head against a wall, so he ran outside, not apologizing to any of the bodies he pushed on his path.

He had called Hiori and stayed absolutely silent. But Hiori being Hiori – a good friend and an even better person – understood immediately. The night ended up with both of them falling asleep on Hiori’s porch, entangled like some sort of long lasting lovers. They never talked about it.

This time, Hiori answered at the second ring.

“I am in front of my house,” says Rin with his usual tone. He looked at the door – fucking stupid, useless door, closed to hide the ugly part of his life. 

“Alrighty, pleased to know you think of me when you see your house.”

Hiori's voice lacked of something. It was changed – made of worry. Rin knew this hint in his friend’s voice, because he heard it so many times. For once, he didn't hate it. To be perfectly honest, he didn’t feel anything. A void inside his heart so he couldn’t think about the anger bubbling down his stomach, threatening to explode.

“My brother is home,” was Rin's answer after a few seconds of silence. 

“Oh,” and the sound of some ruffles, and Hiori was probably sitting at his gaming chair, playing some game and it was almost an honor to know his friend stopped playing just for him. Maybe that was a healthy relationship – but Rin never had one, so he couldn't know. “Come. Sleep here.”

Rin didn’t answer. He hung up and retraced the steps he made just a few minutes ago. Coward, had said Sae a few years back, his words spat like venom on an open wound. Rin didn't change after all those years, so he was still a coward – and he was running away again. It was all he could do. All he knew since neither his parents nor his brother showed him anything else. 

Every time Rin would go in Hiori's apartment, he would be surprised. He could grow used to it, really – but Hiori's place was changing every day. Most of the time, it was just a poster that swapped places, from a Zelda to some sharks hanging against the wall. This time, it was the entire kitchen that had been replaced with all the cups made of some clay and paint to look like sharks’ tails – it was the first thing Rin noticed. Hiori probably saw how his eyes darted in the room, because he chuckled, leaning against the wall.

“Ranze will come later,” he said, like it was a logical explanation. And really, it was. Rin didn’t know Kurona a lot, but he knew how much he liked sharks and needed his whole life to revolve around them. Rin didn't mind – it just didn't understand how Hiori could change his routine this much every day, but that was something they never really discussed. “We still kept the cup ya use. Tea?”

Rin knew he shouldn't have tea – it was getting a bit late and he was already jumpy. Don't, whispered something in his thoughts. Unfortunately, the voice sounded like his brother so, out of spite, he accepted the offer. 

“Know ya won't talk ‘bout Sae,” Hiori said, his hands working around the hundred different tin cans of tea perfectly organized on the counter. “That's not an option, though.” 

So Rin sighed, finally letting go of his bag, and sat at the same place he did every time he would come here. “I didn't talk to him, so nothing to say.” 

Hiori didn't buy his words. He put Rin's cup in front of him – all cracked, it lived more than Rin himself probably, but he didn't care. He liked the washed away purple and the bright green handle. He liked the owl painted with some hues of blue. It was something he knew, and the heat when he wrapped his hand around brought up some anchor to all this mess. “Also, you're not my fucking therapist.”

It made Hiori laugh, eyes rolling and all that. “Should make ya pay me,” and Rin rolled his eyes like a mirror. “You're not good enough for that,” Rin said, already looking away from the discussion. 

It quickly shifted to other subjects – mostly their studies, and Rin pulled out some papers to work on after half an hour, letting Hiori put on some music. He knew Hiori would make him talk – because Hiori always managed to do it. It was like second nature for him – even when you didn't want to, or worse, thought you had nothing to hide, Hiori would find your worst nightmare with honeyed smiles. The first time Hiori met Reo at some gathering, Reo ended up crying after a few minutes. The first time Hiori met Rin, while working on a paper together, Rin had to call his therapist because Hiori managed to make him doubt everything.

So Rin didn't have any way out of this. He didn’t mind, really. Maybe it'll help. Maybe Hiori would magically find a way for Rin to not be so angry at his brother. Maybe–

“Ya want to get tattooed?”

It made him snap out of his thoughts, frowning while looking at his friend. No, he wanted to say, before seeing the small card Hiori was holding in his hand. He almost forgot about the stranger. “Someone gave it to me,” he answered simply. Hiori almost said anything else, but his phone vibrated on the table.

“Ah, Ran’ is bringing home ramen from the place ya like.”

Ah, Rin thought, his eyes following Hiori’s fingers tapping on his screen. I forgot people could care about me. 

Rin knew he was loved – a long time ago, Hiori and him were lovers, and even after the break up, they stayed close friends. Rin could have said he knew a lot about Hiori, but the truth was – he knew secrets and how Hiori liked his coffee. He knew the position he played his favorite game and the way his breath would itch every time they would kiss. But Hiori knew more of Rin. He could read him like an open book and if Rin didn’t know better he could have been scared to let down his guard for someone.

Unfortunately, he always had been some sort of magnet for people who liked to pierce through his defenses. Hiori was a perfect example – but Reo wasn’t really better. If he was less emotionally aware of his own feelings, Reo was still someone who was looking in every crack of Rin’s words, just to call him out on unhealthy behaviors. (Not that Rin couldn’t also call Reo out about his decisions but that was the beauty of their weird friendship. They kept snarling at each other, trying to push each other’s buttons and see which of them would break first.) He was used to being undone in his ivory tower – and with the years going on, it made him less and less angry. 

But being loved and being taking cared of were two different things – and sometimes people like Kurona would play on this fine line and make Rin think about all the people who could have cared but never did. All the people who could have loved him but didn’t – did his brother ever have an ounce of love for him? Maybe a long time ago. Maybe when Sae would pass his hand in Rin’s hair, looking at the toy he was destroying with his teeth, it had been love. (He couldn’t remember for his parents ; no matter how hard he’d try, everything that was left of them was shadowy figures painted on walls.)

Hiori could probably feel how distracted Rin was, because he leaned in, head tilted on the side. “Yer really out of it, eh?” 

“I am fine,” Rin answered but it made Hiori laugh. Rin didn’t take it personally – not totally, at least. Barely a confused frown. “Fuck off,” he still says with a grumble.

“That’s not what I asked, Rin – but alright. Who’s Bachira Meguru, then?”

Who?, almost asked Rin, but his eyes found the card Hiori was still holding. He didn’t even take time to look at it – he thought he had forgotten it at the coffee shop, but it had probably fallen in his computer’s bag. It was a colored one – too colored, really. 

“I don’t know.” 

Hiori seemed suspicious, looking at Rin like he was trying to understand all of his secrets. After a few seconds of silence, Rin shrugged and leaned in on his papers once again. It was easy to forget his friend’s eyes on him when he could lose himself in formulas. Hiori took the hint and dropped off the subject for the next twenty minutes.

The card stayed on his keyboard – and he couldn’t stop looking at it, from time to time. Lavinho, tattoo artist and piercer. A number. An address. Some basic cards you hand to anyone who could be interested in being tattooed. Rin wasn't. He took it to put it in the trash bin, just to see something else was written at the back of it. Bachira Meguru, apprentice tattoo artist, written in bold movements with an orange pen. He stared at the name for a few seconds, standing in the middle of Hiori’s kitchen, before putting it in his pocket.

They moved to the other room, and if Hiori saw Rin’s hesitation on throwing the card, he didn’t say anything about it. Kurona arrived a few minutes later, two bags of food under their arms. Rin helped them with the bags – but looked away almost instantly. Kurona leaned in to wrap their arms around Hiori’s waist, their nose snuggling in his partner’s collar. It made Hiori chuckle but that was all Rin saw or heard. He turned his back to the scene, looking at the takeout containers – he knew everyone’s favorite and place, so it was easy to set the table without a word. 

“Long time no see, see,” Kurona said, searching around for their shark hoodie. Rin wasn’t surprised – he never saw him without it when they were inside. “Won’t stay long, stay long.”

Rin hummed. He wasn’t surprised either – Kurona was often tired, especially after work days. Conversation flown from there, calm and peaceful, almost whispering in half-eaten words. Rin could almost fall asleep there, if it wasn’t for Kurona’s eyes trailing on him every now and then. He knew they wanted to say something and it made Rin want to go away and be alone – but he didn’t. 

“Are you sleeping here, here?,” Kurona finally asked at the end of dinner. Rin nodded behind his cup of tea, and silence fell back.

At least until Hiori shifted in his place, looking at Rin’s hands. “Yer hurting yerself,” and Rin wasn’t sure if he was talking  about his thoughts finally giving up on memories lane or about his fingers against the way too warm cup, there to keep him anchored.

It was so easy to fall back on vestiges of something he’ll never know. His childhood room, the nights in Sae’s bed instead of his, his heart pouring of love for his brother every time they would kick a soccer ball together. The midnight conversations about hope and being proud, the tireless afternoon playing in the courtyard, the popsicles shared on their way home. Everything could remind Rin of Sae – and it did for all those years of silence. 

“Rin,” and Hiori’s voice was way too soft for him. He closed his eyes, waiting for the sword to section his head – so he could feel the life leaving his heart again and the blood flowing on his hands like paint. “I know ya enough to know yer thinking too much.” 

And Hiori was right. Of course he was. Rin didn’t open his eyes and he felt Hiori move closer to him – without touching. “We should go to sleep,” he says in a whisper. You can come with us, was not said but Rin knew it. It wouldn’t be the first time to sleep next to their bed, just to feel more secure than he was alone.

But tonight was different. Rin knew he wouldn’t be able to bear the whispers of love between them. Maybe it was because he was too tired – maybe it was because it reminded him too much of how Sae abandoned him – but he just couldn’t. The lack of words answered for him and Hiori smiled at him. “Alrighty,” he said, standing up to clean up the table.

Rin found the path to the guest room after doing his night routine (he spent so much time here that he had a small kit with his name on it) waving an approximate goodnight, his eyes on his phone. The conversation with his brother popped up, and nothing else was written on it – Rin knew Sae wouldn’t send another message, but he couldn’t help but to feel disappointed. Or maybe it was anger. He couldn’t know, really – feelings were mixed inside his fucked up head, and it was new for no one. 

When he lied down in the bed, Rin was surprised to feel a piece of paper against his skin. He frowned, tried to take it – but it was tied to a small shark plush. A gift for Rin, was written on the paper and Rin’s frown deepened. He didn’t know what pushed Kurona to offer him anything – especially a plush. Rin didn’t have one since the one Hiori offered to him so he wouldn’t bite himself when everything was too much. He still tugged it against his chest and it felt warm. He fell asleep without a second thought. 

“Ya really look like shit,” was the first thing Hiori said to Rin in the morning, who answered with a death glare. Hiori chuckled, putting Rin’s favorite coffee at his place. “Liked Ran’s gift?”

Rin’s eyes trailed on the cup, before sitting. His head was pounding and he hated how slow it was making him – but even if he slept a full night, it hadn’t been a good one. He was used to insomnia, not shadows of the past haunting his dreams. (Not anymore, at least.)

“Why?,” he blurted out in a sluggish voice. He wrinkled his nose to his own voice and Hiori chuckled once more, delighted by how pathetic Rin was. At least, that was what Rin thought because he couldn’t find any other word to describe the state he was in. 

“They said it had the same color as yer eyes. And that yer needed a friend.”

Rin could argue on how a shark plush wasn’t a friend and that, he had friends, but both of their statements sounded wrong. He spent more time talking to plushes than humans a few years ago and he had friends – three, to be exact, but it wasn’t the point Kurona was making and Rin knew it.

“Are ya going to talk to yer brother?”

“No,” Rin answered immediately but the tone of his voice meant I would if he wasn’t a jerk, and Hiori picked up on it.

“Ya should rehearse in front of the shark. It’ll help.”

Rin rolled his eyes at Hiori’s amused smile, but didn’t say anything else. He needed this coffee to clear up his messed thoughts, so he drank it in almost one go and the sting of boiling water on his tongue woke him up a bit too abruptly. When he put down his cup, Hiori was still looking at him but this time his eyes were widen in some worry and he wasn't even trying to hide it.

“Ya can’t burn yer tongue just so ya don’t talk to him.”

“It has time to heal before he’ll even talk to me.”

And they both knew it wasn’t a lie.

Chapter Text

ten years worth of dust and neglect

Going back into a routine never bothered Rin. Even when everything was a ruin – after Sae’s departure and the silence that followed after that stupid night, after the crushing feeling of dying between voiceless sobs – Rin fell back into his own habits. It was what maintained him above water, a lifeline in the middle of a tempest. 

Sae had other plans. 

It had been days since Sae came back and they managed to avoid each other in a perfect harmony – sometimes, Rin would think Sae wasn’t even there, until he could hear the faint crack of the wood, a breath too sharp, or the clattering of cups downstairs. If Rin could have thought that nothing changed – everything did. His chair wasn’t at the same place he left the day before. His favorite bowl was on the sink to dry instead of its usual place. The plaid on the couch was wrinkled. Even the bathroom was different – a new towel hanging against the door, clothes that weren't his in the washing machine, another toothbrush in a new plastic cup. 

Nothing that belonged to Sae was touching Rin’s belongings. Like a paper wall has been hung between their two existence – they could see the shadows, scent the perfume put on every morning, but never feel or touch the other. It was fine. Rin wasn’t even sure he was ready to face his brother anyway.

But still– it was painful. It made the rage inside his stomach move at every movement he could make. Every time he would see an object not at the right place, he would stop himself from shouting – or worse, bite (unless he had one of the plush in his hands. He could almost feel sorry after mistreating his gifts this way.) Sae destroyed everything when he went away, and now that he was coming back, he managed to stomp on what Rin built in his absence.

It was cruel. Sae always had been cruel, but Rin knew it was a lie. A long time ago, when their house was a safe place, when he felt secure in his brother’s arms, Sae wasn’t cruel. He wasn’t gentle either – but he was something. He wasn’t the shadow of the past or the one who broke all their promises. He was the one who made Rin have faith in himself. He was the one who taught him about falling into a routine. He was the one who made him bite and drool on his toys without feeling ashamed. Sae was trusted. He lost this privilege a long time ago.

Rin spent the whole week in his room. He wasn’t afraid, he just didn’t want his brother to think he was keeping away from the house – so he basically ditched his peaceful moments at the coffee shop to study more every evening. He also turned off his phone — not that he used it a lot in the first place. It was always with no sound ; no one really sent him messages and most of his important emails he needed to see were opened on his computer. In fact, he would even forget its existence until he had to take it off his backpack to watch a video or be sure his bus wouldn't run late. In rare moments, his screen would light up with some messages from Hiori, asking if he could come over to study (and it would end up in some gossip moments around some tea) or from Reo, asking if Rin wanted to come over his house (and it would end up in some melancholic moments about how love was useless and painful.) Turning it off didn't take many efforts and even some peace of mind — this way, he couldn't see the conversation with Sae every time he would open his app. If he couldn’t totally find his routine, he could still fall back into his old habits. That's too, was easy.

That’s what drove Reo to burst in his room with a scowl in his face, frowning and his usual perfect hair falling in a sweaty cascade on his forehead. Rin wondered for a moment if Reo ran. From where? Why, even?

“Why didn’t you tell me your brother was back in town? I almost hit him when I saw him in your kitchen. And why the fuck your phone is turned off?”

Rin looked at his friend – the way he closed the door with a harsh sound, the way he kept biting his lips like stopping himself from letting words spill, the way his eyes were red and with bags deeper than before.

“You cried,” Rin said simply, sitting on the verge of the bed. “I didn’t need a useless chameleon like you to analyze me. Fuck off.”

Reo exhaled, looking at Rin for a second – and then he shook his head with a stupid smirk. “Like I would leave you alone. I need to keep you updated on Nagi anyway. If you don’t come, I will make sure to talk with Sae so he can know all you said about him.”

Rin narrowed his eyes at Reo. He didn’t doubt a moment that Reo would do exactly this ; go downstairs with his honeyed words and tell Sae everything. If Reo was charming and gentle with most people, they never knew this between them – from the first time they talked to this day, their friendship was a messy blend of insults, threats and banter. That was the reason Rin trusted Reo – because at every step he would make, Reo was there to call him out. When Hiori wasn’t enough, Reo was a perfect back-up. And Rin was perfect to call Reo out too – he was there when Reo cried under the rain because Nagi wasn’t picking up his phone, or when his parents forced him to be the perfect heir for their company. He was there when Reo would rather think about dying than admit the truth, and still there when he said he couldn’t understand his own emotions because they were always so big. 

Rin never totally understood. His feelings weren’t too much – they were too little. They were here to erode more than break. They were the little waves on a skin of a body that couldn’t move away, coming back every time the wounds would heal, just to put salt on it. It was underwhelming – like a mirror of him not being enough for anything.

“Earth to Rin. You zoned out again,” Reo said with a frown. He didn’t reach out but Rin could see his fingers twitch. “C’mon. I don’t have all day.”

Rin didn’t fight it anymore. Because at the end of the day, Reo was still Reo – and he will forever get what he wanted.

The sun was too bright and the world too loud, so Rin went out with his headphones on his ears and his sunglasses, his hands far in his pockets. He liked being outside and running more than the agony of walking the streets of the city. People wouldn’t look where they were going, brushing skin against skin – or worse, people could sneeze on him. He hated it and the mask over his face didn’t help most of the time, unless to make him feel way too hot. 

“I should buy a dress,” Reo said out of nowhere after fifteen minutes of walking without a sound. Rin knew he was tense – they knew each other enough to notice it. He could read it on the white knuckles and the dry lips, the tired smile and the whispered voice. What Rin didn’t know was what brought Reo back in his miserable behavior – Nagi? His family? Maybe something else entirely. What he knew for sure was that Reo needed him and he hadn’t been here for him – at all. Rin didn’t look at his phone yet, but he could already see a dozen messages piling up. 

“What for?,” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me to feel handsome. You already have a hundred dresses.”

“It’s never too much clothes, you know? Not everyone lives with three shirts and two shorts.”

It wasn’t entirely true. Rin had, in fact, a lot more clothes – they just didn’t feel comfortable. He didn’t fight on it, because it was useless. He understood long ago that Reo was always hiding something, either his struggles or his own emotions, and bought clothes and expensive things to feel in control. If Rin had his art, Reo had nothing – only love, and a lot of money. 

“I have a date.”

Rin didn’t freeze in the middle of the street, but he still wondered if he heard correctly. Maybe his noise canceling was higher than he thought. Maybe he was too distracted. But Reo’s voice had been more low, more pained than usual ; like a withered flower falling on the floor – in a gracious and light dance of death. “With who?,” Rin still inquired, out of options of answers.

Reo looked at him with a small smile and Rin hated it. If he never fell in love with Reo, he was still so important to him – his smile too. He could sell the moon to see it on his lips every day, and this one wasn’t Reo. It was something broken and tired, like the world took back its colors to life in his eyes. Reo was struggling and Rin couldn’t do anything about it – not yet.

“Someone called Chigiri Hyoma. I am actually excited. Maybe I’ll fall under his charm!”

They stepped up in a restaurant – one of Reo’s favorites. For someone who liked big gestures and fancy restaurants, this one was everything Reo could have disliked. Rin knew it was his favorite because they discovered it together a few years back, after a particularly hard day. Rin had found Reo crying in his bathroom with bruises all over his legs and blood under his nails, this day – then, after a long bath where Rin stayed on the cold floor because Reo didn’t want to let go of his hand, they went outside. The ramen was so good that it made Reo spill out his heart and at the end of the night, he was smiling like the whole world was his. 

“You won’t,” said Rin after a few seconds, eyes darting from the menu to Reo’s hands. “Even if you do, you won’t let yourself have his love.”

He was right. Reo knew it too, because he put down the water he was drinking and looked at Rin. “Sounds like you,” Reo countered, shoulders tense. Rin glared at Reo, but it didn’t make him take a step back. “I don’t think I’ll take any advice from someone who avoids his brother like you do.”

“At least I don’t live with the person I fell in love with five years ago without making a move.”

Rin saw the hurt in Reo’s eyes before feeling it. It didn’t make him stop either, and for an instant all they did was to look at each other, perfectly knowing who will break first. 

“I want to know if I am lovable.”

I want to know if I am the problem, was what Reo was thinking, probably. It wasn’t the first time he would think this – not the last time either. Reo could be dazzling for a lot of people, but he too could lose his spark. Rin saw the flame burnt out so many times – and if he couldn’t get the fire going again, he could at least protect it from the gust.

“That’s bullshit,” Rin answered. “You know you are.” 

It made Reo smile, at least. A bit more genuine, still so exhausted. They ordered and silence fell over the table again – Rin fidgeting with the drawstrings of his hood. It wasn’t as if Rin disliked silence – he didn’t like when it was heavy like this.

“Sometimes I wonder what it would feel like to be loved by him,” and Rin could argue. He could argue about how Nagi lightened up when he saw Reo, how Nagi always, always reached when Reo was around him, how Nagi poured his love into everything he was doing for Reo – to have his attention, his eyes, his smiles, his heart.

But it wasn’t the kind of love Reo wanted, nor needed. He needed meaningful words, said with a sleepy voice at four in the morning. He needed to be listened to when he was complaining about how his parents were jerks sometimes and when he wanted to walk through the open door just to be free. He needed to be hugged tightly when going to sleep and kissed lightly when waking up. Reo always had been vocal about what he wanted, with all his friends – but not Nagi. Because that was Reo’s flaw – if he knew how to talk, he never knew how to talk about him when something was wrong. He could write for hours about how sad he was but never voiced it. (Rin knew it. Reo made him read his diary and all the pages were about Nagi.)

Instead, he said, “You wonder about it a lot,” and the conversation stopped after this. Rin didn’t know if it was because the words worn themselves out – or if it was the consequences of being too blunt and cold. Sometimes, he wouldn’t know if he crossed a line or stepped over boundaries. Most of the time, he didn't care. Like the time one of his colleagues tried to be close to Rin ; Rin growled hostile words to this stranger and he knew he was hurting him. He didn’t stop. Like the time his father called him to act like nothing ever happened – to do stupid small talk and with the audacity to ask how Rin was ; Rin snarled venomous words to his father and he knew he was hurting him. He didn’t stop. Like the day his mother tried to embrace him after so many moments of silence ; Rin bit her so hard that he kept the taste of blood for days under his tongue and he knew he was hurting her. He didn't stop either.

The list could go on and on – he even had examples with his most precious friends. The time he made Hiori cry, or the time he made Reo slam the door behind him. Rin was sometimes an insensitive jerk – he knew it. He wondered if it was the case here. If Reo will stomp away from him, saying how much of an useless bastard he was. It wouldn’t have been the first time. (But those situations were sword ; sharped from both sides. Reo made him feeling like crying countless times. He was made to slam the door by Hiori many times.)

“Will you talk to your brother?," Reo suddenly asked, his eyes metting Rin's. And Rin didn't know what to answer — how could he? No, and I will never talk with him ever again, or, No, don't expect this much of my shattered self. Instead, he leaned back on his chair, fingers playing with one of his keychain. He wasn't nervous — uncomfortable, perhaps, at the sudden attention on his personal life. It wasn't like he didn't think about it. Every hour since Sae came back, his thoughts were made for him ; Sae took so much before and was still taking. Rin closed his eyes one, two seconds, and felt his organs living and beating inside him. He hated it. Maybe if he was made of rot—

"Don't tell you won't. You're dying to," and Reo's words are like a stab inside his ribs. "It would be the perfect time to have answers, Rin."

"It won't erase anything he did to me."

Silence fell on the table, to only listen to the clatter of plates against each other. They didn't touch their own dishes, not daring move — too afraid to bleed agaisnt the blade of words. It was often like this — where Hiori would alwyas keep pushing, sometimes Reo would take a step back. I don't want to go too far, he would probably answer if Rin had the strenght to ask. And Rin hated this — this pity, disguised in compassion, this lump he wanted to dissect and take out. To look at it and crush under the ball of his feet, to see how maggots would eat it after days.

"Nothing will erase what he did to you." The blade twisted, dangerously close to his therapist's words. "You know it, Rin. The same way nothing will erase what my parents did to me, or the pain Nagi gave me. We will live with those wounds, which maybe will look like scars instead of open fractures one day."

It won't, wanted to say Rin. It'd never look like scars, because he didn't want to take care of it. He wanted them to be infected ; to see the disease spread on the fine line of his heart and taste a world were everything was decay. It was fucked up — and he knew it. He never fought to have a sane mind — only to stop hurting.

(And maybe that was wrong ; when he didn't know how to live, he couldn't care less about healing. Now, he wanted to live. It was an infestuous flower climbing the tower of his being, and no matter how many time Rin tried to tear it from the earth it was taking root in, it came back.)

"Look," said Reo, seeing Rin had no plan to answer him. "Do whatever. But one day, it'll blow to your face and you'll had no choice than to face it."

"Like you're one to talk," Rin retorted instantly, eyes narrowing.

But Reo only smiled — and it was so sad it made Rin doubt if he knew sorrow before. "I know."

They stopped talking about Nagi, Sae, wounds or misery. Instead, they talked about soccer and the last rumors, and how Reo's work was tiring and how Rin's drawings were better each day. Even if he took a one week break, Rin wanted to draw again — the napkin of the restaurant became a canvas soon enough. It made Reo smile and he left with the napkin neatly fold in his purse, just becasue Rin made a quick sketch of him.

They both silently decided it was better if their meeting didn't end on the meal — they were still tense about the half-argument they had, and they also both know none of them will apologize. Reo found his pace quickly ; he looked at every shop he could, sometimes pointing a shirt he liked or a skirt that would suit Rin. Every now and then, he would whisper "This would look good on Nagi too," and walk away like Rin didn't hear it. It wasn't like Rin had the strenght to say anything about it — or the right to. So he followed without a word, his headphones still on with music. He would nod when Reo would ask for his opinion. When he'd feel like it, he would say why he didn't like something and preferred something else. He wasn't good with fashion, but he knew how to dress, at least.

Reo ended up with more bags than what he planned too. Rin had to help, even if it made him roll his eyes at every bag added in his hands. He could have put them down in the middle of the street for Reo to deal with it alone — but he knew his friend was sad and trying to think about something else. Rin wasn't merciless — nor a sadist like Hiori — so he stayed close to Reo, even if all he wanted to was to go home and hide under his bed. (Maybe the monster who lived with him wouldn't show.)

"Oh, Rin! Can you wait for me here? I won't be long, promise," and Reo didn't even let Rin the time to process the words before turning his heels and dissapearing inside another shop.

Rin sighed, way too used to this to really care. He put his back agaisnt the wall, hiding from the sun falling on his body. He was sweaty and uncomfortable — already dreaming of the cold shower he will be able to take in an hour or so. At least, no one was talking to him, and his face was in an annoyed scowl so no one would approach him.

Or so he thought. Until a door near him opened and someone busted on the street. The sun was pale, under the smile of the stranger.

"You came!," they exclaimed, arms stretching to the sky. They are beautiful, Rin thought, seeing the flowery skirt they were wearing.

"I didn't," responded Rin, frowning. He took off his headphones and the city's noise washed over him. He hated it. He didn't put his headphones back.

The stranger hummed, approaching to lean into Rin's personal space. If it had been anyone else, Rin would have hit — or bitten, or insulted, or anything else than the passiveness he was holding out. "And yet, you're here," they smiled.

Bachira Meguru. Now that Rin could put a name on the stranger face, it felt more intimate. Maybe it was the way they were standing — like the world was light on their shoulders, like the clouds were made to whisper for them, like the birds were singing for them. They were a force, even in the most casual, fleeting conversations they had — only two, no more than a few minutes, and Rin was sure of it.

Their yellow hair were made of light beneath the sky, like a halo around the throat instead of crowning their head. Beautiful, he thought. Lovely. But they'll be the death of me. That's too, he was sure of it. Because no angel were on earth to give freedom to mere mortal — and Rin wasn't anything else than this. A human, made of broken glasses and eroding bones. Fragile, brittle, frail, vulnerable human. He was made of rage and absence while the angel was made of wind and stars. They had been blessed by a warmth Rin never knew ever once — and he wasn't jealous of it. But touching it was forbidden ; it would destroy Rin own self. This glow wasn't meant for him.

"I have to go back to work, but you know where to find me, now! No excuses!," they added before Rin could even breath. "And if you don't come, I will find you again."

It felt like a threat. Before Rin could answer, Reo called for him and the angel dissapeared behind the door. When he turned to his friend, he was tilting his head and frowning, a silent question on his pursued lips. Rin had no answer, so he gave nothing.

Rin didn't have time to rehearse in front of the shark, and he almost regret it. He did talk to the plush in his one week break from the outside world. The shark looked at him with his sewn black eyes and judged him throughout the one hundred and fifteen ideas Rin had on how the conversation with his brother could go.

Unfortunately, nothing could have prepared him for what it would really be.

Sae was waiting for him in the living room, a soccer match playing at the screen and a cup of tea in his hands. He was sitting the same way he did all those years ago ; legs crossed, back against the head of the couch, in a half-relaxed and half-serious position.

"You took your time," Sae said without looking away from the screen. It had been enough to wake up the rage flooding off the wounds of Rin's heart.

He didn't change. His voice was still emotionless — like the idea of Rin living around him was a bother. Like Rin didn't count for anything. Like he would be better alone, sipping on his stupid tea instead of talking to his lukewarm brother. His body was the same, if not a bit more strong with all the training he was doing. He had the same haircut, same cheek, same neck — same eyes, and Rin didn't need to see them to know that.

"Since when do you care," Rin retorted, stepping in the living room.

Rin changed, in retrospective. His injections of testosterone had their effects ; he was taller, broader, his voice was lower and deeper. He could feel the uncomfortable feeling of beard growing agaisnt his cheeks. He had to buy new clothes because nothing was suiting him anymore — new shoes too, which had been a pain. Sae didn't have been here for any change — Hiori had been the one staying with him at every shot and Reo had been the one going out with him to find new clothes. No one else had been there. (Even when Rin had send desperate mails to Sae — hoping he would answer. He lived the same as him, so why was him rejecting Rin again?)

Sae moved. Like a monster taking its limbs to disguise itself as a human, he moved to face Rin. The teal of his eyes didn't change — Rin was right. He hated it how right he was, because he couldn't stop feeling the pit in his stomach. They could grow apart, they could hate each other with all the spite of the world, they could claw each other's heart, their eyes would always be the same. They would be the same eyes they had when they were younger, laughing and playing together — the same eyes as the day Sae decided Rin wasn't worth it anymore.

"I am going to marry."

Rin rehearsed. He rehearsed the tears and the smiles. He rehearsed forced forgiveness and the spontaneous cruelty. He rehearsed the blame, the accusations, the clemency, the mercy. All those years, he rehearsed ; he knew exactly how to not be a dissapointment anymore. To not fall under the rage. To not be too much. To be enough.

He never rehearsed being remplaced like this. Who his brother thought was worthy of his love? It was so different — Rin knew it. But it was all and the same — he wasn't the one who'd get the attention. He was the discarded one, the one put on the side, the one who would never have the right to live, consumed by the unworthy of his soul.

"I want you to be my best man."

It had been so easy to hate. So easy to fall into the arms of anger and wrath. "What the fuck," was the only words Rin could say.

Because how Sae could do this to him? He built Rin to not have any worth. And Rin knew it — made his whole self about it. He overdid himself ; he looked at his reflection in the mirror and drew blood so he could be better. Purged himself from all the cells which made him the weak self he was ; bathed himself in the agony of his joints to be good. He said to himself a long time ago — Sae isn't worth it, and he almost tried to learn to live for himself.

His therapist said he was clinging to the idea of his brother because he was the safe place of an abused child. Because abuse wasn't just what parents could give — but all the things they didn't. Absent parents also gave scars ; Sae had one too many as well. Because he was only a child too, when he had to take care of Rin. When no one showed up to their matches, it was also a stab for Sae's heart. They both created the same walls — with time, they learned to not show emotions. To have nothing for them, so no one could take from them. Sae had been a tower to hide himself in for Rin — but Rin had been nothing but a weight. (That, his therapist didn't say it. They said If Sae was a tower for you, you were the cement he needed to built his own life, but Rin didn't trust them with those words.)

"No," Rin snarled, frowning and trembling from the gust of hatred inside his organs. "Fuck off. Take your things and get the fuck out."

If Rin was strong enough, he would have punched Sae. He would have yelled. He would have said how much he hurt him — how much his silence made him die every night in his bed, so close to rotting all alone in the dark.

But Rin never had the arrogance to be strong. Inside those walls, of a house they always lived in together, Rin was nothing else than the child Sae left. So when Sae shrugged, sitting back on the couch, Rin had nothing else to say. He was the one going away. He was a coward once again.

Sae didn't look back. Rin did — and his heart shattered in the sea of silent anger.

Chapter Text

hoping someone else will decide

Rin was loosing hope of going back to his routine. It had been thrown off the ledge and was in free fall since — he despised it. It was making him weak. If the first week he shut himself away, the second was all about avoiding Sae by being away.

His sketchbook never had been so alive. Every time he had to think, he would pull it out from his bag, and sketch anything that was around him — a tree, some people, a dog chewing on a toy, spirals that didn't make sense, (Sae, Sae's face, Sae's words), the dance of clouds, a nice spot near a lake, children playing soccer, (the angel, their hair, their hands, their smile.)

(Sometimes, he would stop in his tracks and ask himself ; when will be the wedding? What will wear Sae? Who was going to marry him? Did they know — the treason, the twisted knives?)

Both Reo and Hiori would check up on him, and even if it was getting on Rin's nerves to be kind of babysat, he was still thankful for those messages. Because none of his friends ask question after he send on their group-chat — My brother is getting married. Instead, Reo would send pictures of what he was wearing for his date and Hiori complimented it with half a flirt. Instead, Hiori would send memes found on his Discord servers between two streams or games and it would made Rin almost snort.

He decided he couldn't go to his friend's place too much so he kept his phone on him and made an effort to answer every time he could, just to avoid another incident like Reo barging in his room. Because this time, Rin wouldn't be there and he was almost sure Sae was still there, and he didn't want any of his friends talking to Sae. Because Sae was a jerk and none of them deserved to talk with someone like him — but also because he was afraid of what Reo and Hiori could say about Rin. Not that he didn't trust them, but they were both enough sadist to reveal things Rin wasn't ready to say to himself yet.

If they both knew boundaries, it was easy to work Reo up — to make him say things he would regret, or make him spill things he shouldn't know or say. Rin already saw it, even experienced it ; once Reo drown in his anger, he would become violent and violence was more than just hitting. It was knowing one's way into the heart of someone and put poison right there, between the aorta and the atrium. Let it fester into the valves so it can bloom inside. Reo knew a bit too much of Rin — he knew the fears and secrets he whispered in the middle of the night, hoping only the moon will catch it ; he never thought Reo was part of the court, a star shining in the sky. Rin lay down everything for him, giving him his mind and life and every single thought he had — and if he had to do it again, he would do it over and over again.

But the truth was ; if Sae and Reo were to met, it would create chaos in Rin's life.

Hiori, on the other end, would go differently, and would protect Rin at the first thing Sae would say against him. If he wouldn't spill anything like Reo, he would still use what he knew to build a defense and use it like a lawyer at court.

Rin took no chance in either of these options ; so he kept his phone close and didn't reproduce the mistake he made the week before.

The mistakes he made were something else entirely. At first, he forgot about the school break — and now that he could not rush into his coursework to ignore the throbbing morning headaches, he had nothing left to do. Drawing was a good exercise and he liked it, but it could get tiring and it wasn't enough to shut up his thoughts. Most of the time, the sketches would end up being some messy lines that no one could make sense of (unless it was Rin himself, but he wouldn't give any explications.)

Then — during the break, Yukimiya's schedule changed. On Monday, Rin managed to go past his disdain to talk with people so he could order his usual drink. Zantetsu — who, frankly, made Rin want to bash his head against the wall — was a friend of Nagi and Reo. Fortunately for him, Zantetsu also didn't recognize him, they only met once at a gathering at Reo's house eight months ago.

What Rin didn't take into account, was the fact Nagi would change his schedule too, working longer hours to compensate for Yukimiya's time off. And really, Rin tried his best to avoid him partly because they weren't friends — but mostly because Reo made a post on his socials saying he had a date ; and Chigiri Hyoma reposted it. Then, Rin saw Nagi's handle liking every one of their shared pics and commenting under each of them that Reo looked good. (Even on Chigiri's profile, which was totally pathetic, especially since he made sure not to like those pictures before leaving those comments.)

(He also learned, because he was curious about Chigiri, that Chigiri had been tattooed in Bachira's shop. He also learned Bachira was just an apprentice. He also learned, after multiple back and forth on Chigiri's profile, that he was a close friend of Bachira's. He didn't think about it, turned off his phone and put it away for two more hours.)

"You're friend with Reo," and Rin regretted to have tried calming his headache with a coffee, now he could feel it spread through his skull and try to break it by his ears when he heard Nagi's voice. Nagi, who was holding Rin's cup and refused to let go of it, frowned, watching every flicker of eyes Rin made.

"What do you want?," Rin asked and his voice was hoarse. He would have like to blame it on the lack of sleep, a bit too much caffeine or a cold. Actually, it was because he had not talked to anyone for a few days, unless it was to ask for coffee, or to the neighbor's orange cat. That too, was pathetic, yet not as much as Nagi's behavior.

Nagi hesitated, his lips curling in something Rin couldn't describe — as if he was trying to say something but his tongue caught up in his teeth, and he abandoned speaking altogether. His shoulders slouched, hiding the fact he was almost two meters tall. The fingers squeezed the cartoon paper of his cup and Rin grimaced.

"He had a date?"

Rin wasn't sure if it was a question or an affirmation. In both case, it was stupid — Nagi knew the answer and the reality of it. He saw the pictures. Reo probably told him, since they lived together. Nagi probably watched Reo go on his date. They probably talked about it. So why was Nagi bothering him? Rin had no idea and he didn't really care. He wanted to sit at his usual table before it was taken by someone else.

"How?"

Rin frowned, his patience running thin every second Nagi would look in his direction. He didn't like the self-pity, liked Nagi even less because of what he did to Reo all those years, and because he was messing with his already thrown off routine. "What?," he asked, at nothing to spill his coffee on Nagi and turn away from this awkward interaction.

"Reo. I want a real date with him."

Oh, really? and Finally, was the two thoughts he had. He wondered how Reo could keep up with someone this stupid — but he couldn't ask, because Reo would probably say "Be gentle. He isn't stupid," which wasn't true, but Rin learned to not fight Reo when Nagi was the subject.

"Whatever. Give me my coffee."

Nagi looked at him — narrowed his eyes, scanning Rin to know if he was trustworthy, or if he had anything with Reo, or if he had any answer to his question. "You're his friend," repeated Nagi and Rin almost answered Yes, thanks for noticing. "Tell me how."

Rin was vexed. They weren't extroverts — which Rin knew, but at least he had real friends. Not Nagi. He had Reo and a cactus named Choki, and sometimes he would talk to other people — like Zantsetu or Baro. Rin didn't like the implications of explaining how he was friend with Reo, because really, it was all Reo's fault. He was the one who stuck around even if Rin didn't want to. (He could thank him for this, but he never would.)

"Fuck off."

Nagi didn't let go of the cup. Instead, he took it back, making Rin's fingers catch nothing else than the air. I will kill him, Rin thought.

"Tell me how to have a real date with Reo."

What?, Rin thought. "What kind of fucked up person you are? Five years and you don't know how to have a date with Reo?"

Nagi frowned. Rin could almost see the gears inside his brain moving. Rin still wanted to just go away, too tired for this conversation. Nagi let go of the beverage and Rin took it before he could change his mind.

"If you don't go on a date with Reo before the end of the week, I will go on a date with him, you stupid, fucking useless rag."

Nagi didn't say anything — and Rin didn't care if it was because he was at loss for words, or if it made him think about his relationship with Reo. (Even if, deep down, he hoped it was the second option, because it would be a relief for everyone around Reo and Nagi.)

Once he finally settled down at his usual table, Rin let his face fall on his crossed arms. He was so tired and this conversation didn't help in anything — it was like leaving a lamp on for hours and acting surprised when the batteries didn't work anymore. Everything was getting on his nerves — the tiredness of the past week was heavy on him. He was feeling like Atlas — his whole world on over his head and his knees bucking up to try to not end up crushed under. (He didn't want to say his world was Sae — it was heavy because of Sae. He was cruel and had so much open wounds, but it was too painful to imagine his life be only Sae, Sae, Sae, a broken record for a shattered relationship.)

A few minutes was enough for him to gain back his composure — he took his sketchbook out, sipped on his flat white, and decided it was a good spot to sketch people walking outside the window. His mind didn't waver much ; once his pencil touched the paper, his thoughts calmed down to let go of the weariness of being alive. A calm sea under a bright sun, a pleasant wind on the skin when stargazing, a house made of love — it was easy to imagine places Rin liked. Even if it was all lies and no truth, it was enough to let his hands press against the blood flowing and stop the hemorrhage.

Because that was what life looked like since Sae's ghost came back — a perpetual stream of exhaustion, as if he couldn't find peace anymore. (He never found rest, not really — he spent the last few years running instead of walking, running out of time every breath he took.) The ghost was made of ice, making the air hard to breathe and his thoughts wreck havoc in his head ; a ghost ravaging everything on its path. What he built and what he did not ; a slaughter of the months of therapy, which should have helped him, and yet nothing was left of it either.

He dialed his therapist's number many times, looking at his screen for long minutes — before deciding otherwise. He wasn't weak. He could do this without someone else telling him what to do, or lecturing him, or trying to help with stupid psycho-analyzing. A lot of people were surviving without therapists. A lot of people were surviving without help. And Rin didn't need any help — so that was it. Every time he would want to send a message, asking for an appointment, he would erase the message and turn off his screen.

After the terrible conversation with Nagi, Rin thought he had a painful enough day — it was a childish thought to think nothing else would happen to him.

"You never came back!"

Rin frowned, looking up to see who the hell was talking to him — only to be met with the Sun, bright and dazzling and making his head spin under the warm of their so stupid smile. Bachira sat on the other chair, making himself comfortable with his hot chocolate — Rin could scent the sugar from here, making his nose wrinkle.

"I told you I'd find you again myself," they said with another big smile.

And Rin could argue that it only had been five days, not even a week since last time — without forgetting that they still didn't know each other. He could also be more of a prick and say that he has a life, while seeming that Bachira had none, but it would have been cruel over nothing and he didn't have the strength to fight anyway. (No one could take the Sun in a fair fight and Rin always fought fair.)

Bachira looked at him like they were waiting for an answer — Rin had none, yet it felt like he should have one. They glanced at each other for a few seconds, where Bachira's smile didn't waver, before they took a sip of their sugary drink. Rin couldn't understand how Bachira was still on their chair, with one of their knee up against their chest and the other swinging back and forth. Have they never learned how to settle down?

"I like how you draw faces," Bachira said after putting back their cup on the table.

Rin checked his page. He didn't really put a lot of efforts on faces — enough to recognize expressions and some little details to add depth on the sketches. He frowned, before closing his book.

"What do you want?," he asked, voice low and threatening. Maybe Bachira had a death wish — or maybe they weren't aware of anything, because they leaned on the table, their fingers brushing the sketchbook.

"I still want you to tattoo me."

Rin sighed. Maybe he should bash his head against the table. Maybe he should go home and stop trying to understand Bachira. Maybe — Maybe he should just stop.

"I bet you think you don't know me enough to tattoo me, right? Then let's spend the day together!"

"What?," and it seemed the only thing Rin could manage to answer every time he would talk to Bachira.

Bachira beamed at him, like they didn't just say the most senseless thing. Talking to Bachira was like trying to complete a puzzle you had never seen before, in a language you couldn't start to even hope to understand. With three encounters, Rin could see how of a wild ride Bachira was — fast and breathtaking at every corner. It wasn't like Reo and his extreme behaviors under pressure or trying to hid what he really thought or felt — while Reo was made of insecurities, Bachira seemed to melt under their want of being free in the most beautiful ways.

Rin didn't need this. He didn't need another element to the equation of the mess he was — he didn't need the inconvenience to learn something new. He already knew so much, spent weeks, months, even years to learn the people around him and find a perfect routine.

But everything fell when Sae came back. When everything he ran away from decided it needed blood and nightmares. So nothing stopped Rin to put himself in a new situation — to learn a new formula.

"Alright," he whispered, eyes watching Bachira's smile falter for a second before transforming into a loud laugh.

Rin turned his head when he felt Nagi's eyes on them, and he seemed to say Are you sure it is not an hassle? and Rin uselessly answered in his head No. It is not.

Rin barely had time to finish his order before Bachira dragged him outside, because I need sun to live!. Rin could argue that, between the fact Bachira was the sun itself and the fact that they could feel sun on their skin even inside the shop. But Rin wasn't good with words, and was too scared of breaking Bachira's smile. He said nothing.

The question game started fifteen minutes after they walked out the coffee shop.

Rin was searching on his phone if a museum near them was open, because Bachira wanted to visit one — and despite the fact Rin hated to text and walk, he still managed to find something.

"Would you rather be the prey of a werewolf or a vampire?"

Rin frowned, fingers gripping around his phone. For an instant, he still walked without looking up to Bachira — who didn't seem to notice, or at least didn't say anything about Rin tensing up beside them. But then, not even a few seconds after the question was asked, Rin found himself stating "A werewolf."

Bachira smiled at him and it made Rin sigh, hiding how much he was surprised by his own words. "It's a stupid question. No one would chose a vampire as a predator."

"I would. All I have to do is have some garlic on me, right? While a werewolf — you have to find a silver bullet."

"Or wolfsbane."

Bachira hummed, losing themselves in their thoughts, their head bobbing in a rhythm Rin couldn't hear. And Rin wanted to run away — go home so he would stop saying stupid, useless things. It wasn't like he never thought of this question ; he watched way too many movies to not have a logical answer. But still — no one would ask those kind of questions, and he was much a weirdo for answering it without hesitation.

"Maybe I'll grow some wolfsbane at home, then."

Rin sighed, looking away from Bachira's smiling face. "I found a museum. They have an exposition about dinosaurs."

For an instant, Rin felt like he just took the moon to give it to Bachira — or maybe he was the one who didn't know anything about feelings. It wasn't like he had a lot of them most of the time, hid behind walls with childish drawing on the bricks. But Bachira seemed to have a lot of them — running in their veins, on their tongue, where they would say to the whole world how they were feeling. (But Rin couldn't know. He always saw them happy, smile so big it could reach the sky ; he didn't know if Bachira's sadness was made out of despair and anguish, quiet and calm, or made of grief who could blow everything around.)

Bachira tried to touch him — jump on his shoulders and laugh against his ear. Rin didn't let them do it, taking a step back, but it didn't make Bachira stop. Instead, they tilted their head, still giggling, and put their hands high in the sky. "You're a genius, Rin-chan!"

"Don't call me that."

"Alright, Rin-chan!"

Rin closed his eyes, before sighing. It was a war he already lost — so he showed the way to the museum, Bachira exclaiming every time they would see a bird. He didn't talk about how Bachira found his name — he knew they had their ways, and it wasn't even a surprise at this point. (He didn't ask himself — how much does Bachira know?)

Rin almost thought all that was nice — to go out with someone else than his usual friends. If Hiori and Reo were both good friends, they were also too aware of him — of when he was too tired to be pushed again, of when he'll began to fumble instead of just struggle. He liked how comforting it was sometimes, to not have to voice everything because his friends would look at him and know what he was feeling — sometimes better than himself.

Bachira didn't know all that. They were still learning each other, the beginning of a story Rin thought would never start.

The second question came while they were digging through the sand of one of the exposition. They needed to find some fossils — if Rin didn't want to do it at first, Bachira managed to make him at least look. After putting hand sanitizer on the small tools, Rin decided if he had to follow Bachira all day, he would at least do the same things at them. (And it wasn't because Bachira looked at him with a twitch of their lips, like taking back the sadness which would have paint their face.)

"What's your favorite word?"

Rin just found another fossil, putting it on the small bag they were given. He looked up at Bachira, who didn't.

"Lukewarm," he answered. Bachira chuckled, and Rin didn't take it personally.

"Are you sure?"

This, he took it personally. How Bachira, who didn't know anything of him, could have the audacity to say Rin was lying? (Of course they had the audacity to say this. Because, as Rin learned in the one hour and a half he had with them, they took everything of the world and were too observant for their own well-being.)

"Diatribe."

Rin grinned his teeth, looking away from Bachira's face. Everything else was better than the small grin and raised eyebrow. Everything else was better than the deception he could read in Bachira's eyes. (Was it what that was, really? Rin didn't know, but it was the most likely emotion — a lot of people would put their eyes on him and be disappointed. His parents, his brother — even his therapist, sometimes. Why not Bachira? They didn't know him, after all. They didn't know about the rotting heart and the stabbing wound pleading for more blood every night.)

"Fancy. I like a lot of words — but I think I like something simple. Like moon! I like the moon — and it's a pretty word."

Rin frowned. "Out of all words — moon?"

Bachira flashed him his usual smile, and Rin felt like he missed something ; like something was hidden behind the words, a mystery he couldn't try to understand yet.

"Why not? Am I surprising you, Rin-chan?"

Rin didn't look away for a few seconds. Yes, he wanted to answer. Because you're still a stranger and you still managed to guide me somewhere to do things I usually hate. Because you're throwing my routine by the window and I let you doing it willingly.

Instead he answered, "No" and Bachira laughed.

As the afternoon ran its course, Rin learned Bachira would always talk — and always find new questions to ask. Rin first thought it was because Bachira was afraid of silence, but he quickly learned it wasn't this at all, because they would let silence stretch around them every now and then, the same small, pleased smile on their lips. Another mystery Rin was facing.

Bachira didn't ask about Rin's personal life, and every time he would answer, Bachira would gave him something of themselves too. Rin learned Bachira's favorite color was yellow (which he could have guessed already,) if they would chose something not real to exist it would be dragons (they look nice! I am sure I would be a dragon whisperer, they said,) if they had to chose between killing his friend that turned to be a zombie or killing themselves, they would kill themselves (I don't think I could do either, if I am being honest, and Rin couldn't really understand, because a zombie wasn't their friend anymore, so they debated it for twenty minutes in the middle of the street.)

He also learned that Bachira had a monster — it came in the conversation without a sound. The monster in me says it likes you, by the way! and Rin looked at him, blinking slowly. How lonely are you? he asked and Bachira only shrugged with another chuckle.

It had something odd of all these encounters ; the questions felt too personal to be nothing. Like they were chosen carefully, like Bachira was noting everything inside their head to use it later. It felt like being dissected — and yet, Rin had nothing to say to stop it. It wasn't painful, barely noticeable, like Bachira did this again and again and again. Maybe it was their way to make friends. Maybe it was something else entirely — maybe they felt how Rin was cautious of everything and everyone, so they found a way to dig inside all this and make Rin talk about himself. Maybe they felt all the sorrow weighing on Rin's shoulders. Maybe Rin was an open book and he didn't know it. (But if he was — how could Sae not see anything?)

They sat in a park after Bachira complained about their ankle hurting. Rin didn't know it was there — even if they circled back near the coffer shop, they were on a side of the city Rin didn't know a lot about. (He only knew the airport was in this direction, past the park and down the road, about one hour in the car they had when they were younger.)

It was silent for a moment ; catching their breath after talking over each other for hours. They had bought candy on the way out the museum, because they were dinosaur shaped, and Rin's teeth were still stuck together. His tongue would ran over the crystallized sugar, trying to get it out, but it would just roll back against his gum. His lips still tasted the too sour lemon and menthol mix, making it hard to think anyway. He should have bought water on their way here, but he kind of forgot when they began to talk about I saw the TV glow and how they related to it.

He also learned this ; Bachira liked to talk a lot about what they knew, but also liked to listen to people talking about what they liked. So when Rin began to talk about of queer identity and horror were connected through medias for almost forty minutes, Bachira listened and asked questions where it was interesting. (Rin's voice wasn't hoarse anymore ; his throat still hurt between the sugar and the lack of words on the last week, but it wasn't painful anymore.)

"If you could chose to be free or imprisoned, what would you chose?"

Rin frowned. Out of all the questions asked, this one was the most stupid. The others were bizarre maybe, but interesting — this one was straight up a fraud in the middle of such intriguing conversations.

"Free," he answered a bit coldly. "What's with the stupid question, bowl cut?"

Bachira shrugged. For once, they didn't answer the question back. They looked at their phone, before pointing the street with their chin, already walking forward. "Let's go home," they said, hands hid in their jacket.

Rin followed without a word. It was confusing — it was everything he usually avoided. Not knowing, being lost in depictions he could only imagine without having any answer, it was everything he hated. And yet — he didn't say anything about it, as they walked back to the coffee shop. Rin's heart was weighing against his ribs, like the night Sae finally told him how much of a coward and lukewarm brother he was ; the feeling of understanding the disappointment that he was — after all these years—

"Rin-chan," Bachira almost whispered, tilting their head. "We're here."

Rin blinked. He looked around to see Nagi's working on the other side of the window. He breathed out, and it felt like he was drowning for an instant. Bachira seemed to understand it, so they smiled at Rin — and it was different from before. It wasn't a small smile, but it was soft. Rin hated it. (It reminded him of the nights Sae would take him in his arms when he had too much nightmares to sleep alone. Bittersweet memories got rid off the sugar on his teeth.)

"You said you'd chose to be free," Bachira said after a few seconds of silence. Rin nodded, frowning further.

"Because who would chose to be locked up? Even a golden cage isn't worth it."

The strangest thing happened — Bachira leaned in to take Rin's hands and he let them do it. Rin didn't see it before, but Bachira's fingers had paint under their nails and spot of ink against the wrist. He wondered how many tattoos they had.

"Then why are you choosing to be caged?"

It made Rin's thoughts stop. It made him stop. The warmth of Bachira's hand was suddenly overwhelming, like putting his own fingers into a fire to be burned. To feel the skin bubbling and melting, fusing the nerves and liquefying the bones. Maybe that was what all of this was about — throwing gasoline on him and let the fire take, take everything. (It'll take the memories too — the pain and the rage and the anger ; the tears and the cries and the sorrow. The insides are like a forest ; the fire won't see anything else than preys to be eaten.)

"What the fuck are you talking about?," but his voice was scared more than cold. It was breaking on the inside of the rolling of the tongue and fumbling on the inside of his mouth. It was a voice made of thawed hatred.

Bachira looked at him like he was someone else entirely — he failed to be something worth looking at for an instant. Maybe it was the panic inside his veins throbbing and hurting ; maybe it was the flicker of his eyes, searching for something to be anchored with instead of the sweltering of his organs.

"The monster can feel your fear," they said, tilting their head on the side. Golden eyes fell into the teal ; sun taking interest in the sea. "You shouldn't be afraid of living."

And just like this, the fire extinguished itself. It died without another sound, as quickly it started. Rin fumbled on his own heart, without knowing what to do with every cells of his being. He was out of place, out of world, watching the scene from afar.

"It was a nice afternoon," Bachira exclaimed, taking back the sunny smile they usually wore. "See you later!"

Rin didn't move. With the sun going away, he could only feel the gust of wind.

Nothing in the house felt like it was Rin's. He was a stranger inside the walls he knew all his life. Memories were still there, living and vibrating beneath each step, but he didn't feel them. It had been long since all Rin felt was numbness — he naively thought he was past this. Than he was better than the hollowing feeling inside his heart.

But Bachira's words took everything of him and threw a bomb inside the castle of his heart. Rin doubted Bachira saw it like an attack, merely like an observation — it didn't mean he didn't take it like a dagger twisted between his ribs.

It wasn't a betrayal, but it had the same taste on his tongue. Like the day Reo bought him flowers and showed him he was appreciated — like the day Hiori spent three days sleeping on the floor beside his bed, because Rin was sick and afraid to be alone through it, and showed him he was loved. They were treacherous ; gentleness taking another sharp turn and Rin didn't like it. No matter how he turned Bachira eyes inside his head, he couldn't imagine another feeling than care for him. Worry, maybe, but he remembered their eyes and it wasn't that lightning them.

He didn't turn off his phone, but he answered to no one. He heard the cracks of the wood, a ghost impersonating an human on the other side of his door, but he didn't think about it. Even a golden cage isn't worth it. So why are you choosing to be caged?

He wasn't. He wasn't choosing to be caged — no one would like to be bound to the earth with shackles biting the skin until all left was rotted skin. So why Bachira would think this? How the fuck— it was stupid.

He turned and turned in his too small — or too big? — bed but nothing came. No magic answer or rest by sleep — nothing else than the tempest inside him, ravaging everything. He tried the floor, holding plushies against his chest in a vain attempt to make his heart less loud ; he tried opening his window, but the world was too much outside. He tried tea, then going on the couch, listening to a stupid, useless show. He tried playing in his head conversations with Reo and Hiori, then the annoyance he felt when talking to Nagi — he even tried remembering the conversation with his brother, and nothing came out of it.

The sun perked through the windows of his room while he was watching Nightmare on Elm Street 2 — which at least had the sympathy to make him think about something else. It made him think about Bachira once more — the conversation about queerness and horror movies popping up here and there. He still felt the void inside, but at least it wasn't as painful. He knew how to get used to it and how to get rid of it. (Partially, at least.)

He took his phone while the credits were rolling on his computer. He saw the messages in the group chat with Reo and Hiori — some memes, a question asked for Rin, nothing out of place. His heart wasn't in the lost and found of this conversation, but he still answered Hiori's question before looking through his contacts.

If you ever want to talk to me!, had said Bachira in the middle of the afternoon, giving back the phone to Rin. He hadn't thought much about it, but now that he had it in front of him, he thought They're stupid. He could have been a murderer, or a stalker — and then he thought that he was the stupid one in this story. Accepting a stranger's friendship, letting them close to him, following them through the whole city — he could have been the one who'd end up dead.

But when he wrote Do you have time to tattoo me tomorrow? he didn't think he was stupid. He wasn't a coward anymore. If he was caging himself, then he had to crush the bars, right?

(Bachira answered a few hours later Yes! and then The monster was right, you're really interesting, and Rin could feel his heart already letting go of the emptiness.)

Chapter Text

I chose to close my eyes

Since his routine wasn't his anymore, Rin decided to throw it away. Instead of taking his shower before bed like he usually did, he decided to take one at seven in the morning, hoping it'd make his head stop thumping. The fog didn't go away, but the feeling of static electricity did wane — his body felt a bit more his, and he didn't care about his brother when he blasted music through his phone to make everything go away.

In return, Sae sent him a message. I need to talk with you and Rin answered I don't, and they left it at that. Rin knew he was being cruel — unnecessarily so, but he didn't really care either. Sae was the first to take out swords to cut Rin's heart like paper. Rin didn't ask anything — and yet, Sae took without asking for consent. Rin had nothing left to give, so he wouldn't hold out his heart to be stomped on anymore.

(But his world was still Sae, Sae, Sae, Sae, and he couldn't deny it anymore.)

He took a coffee instead of his tea and didn't jog his usual path. He didn't take time to work on any of his papers — even when his works were finished, he liked to read them again to be sure he didn't miss anything. It was easy to forget words, comas, or important information, especially when he was tired or unfocused. (Sae made him unfocused. He hated how much control he had on him still, even after all those years.)

He didn't see his brother all morning — Rin could barely hear his breathing rustling against the leaves of memories. It was like Sae was a living corpse but wasn't alive. He could see the bowl his brother used and washed on the sink, the clothes that wasn't his in the washing machine, the chair moved on the right. All the changes were still the same since Sae came back — and yet, Rin had no proof of his existence except the conversation they had. He watched enough zombie movies to know Sae wasn't one, but the thought still rattled in his brain. (It was easy to say that Sae was a monster. Not like Bachira's — something like a nightmare. A monster who would never leave you alone and let you wither in a pool of your own blood.)

The time of the appointment came faster than Rin thought. He was listening to some violin on his yoga mat when his alarm went off, making him wrinkling his nose. When he remembered why he needed to go, what washed over him was nothing like anxiety, only an odd feeling of serenity — it was as if he had been waiting for this moment. As if nothing could scare him anymore. He felt delicate but not quite frail ; a feather letting itself fly in the wind.

He walked down the street without any thoughts related to the Sae problem. No memories or stupid questions about the wedding, no second thought about what to do about them — the relationship they shared or the feeling of void every time Rin thought about living all alone again. (Because no matter what he said — he grew used to Sae inhabiting those walls. It was a peculiar feeling, messing with his head and all its contradictions.) Instead, he thought about Bachira.

It wasn't really weird — but Rin couldn't stop thinking about Bachira's words and how easy it had been talking with them. How they talked for hours and how Bachira understood Rin needed space without even talking about it. He didn't tell Hiori or Reo yet because Bachira was a secret. They were his secret and maybe it should make him a bit more afraid. It should make him run away like he did with Sae, and like he did with Hiori and Reo when they first tried to be his friends. He had spent his life running away from people — from the hassle of understanding and loving people. Understanding their feelings, the way they'd work, what they disliked or hated. It had been hard to understand it shouldn't be a painful exercise — and yet, it was for him.

But not with Bachira. Because he wanted to know everything — if they had to jump off a bridge, which one they would chose? If they had to chose one animal to love and live with, which one? If they had a day before the end of the world, what they would do? If tomorrow was an apocalypse, who would they chose to survive with? It wasn't only knowing about their favorite color or their favorite cloth — he wanted to dissect their brain to poke at it.

He opened the door of the shop on this thought.

It was small. Rin hadn't been in a lot of tattoo shop before, so he couldn't know if it was too small, but the first room was definitely cramped. He didn't spot Bachira — instead, he met with some other person with white and green hair. Rin instantly decided he didn't like them — the way their eyes were falling, the way their mouth curled up in a grin before settling down in a line, the way they leaned in to glance at Rin like they knew who he was and why he was there. And maybe they knew, because they lay back, knuckles white against the wood of the desk and they yelled "Bachira! Your date is here!"

Rin tried to not completely freak out at the idea of being Bachira's date. He blinked at the stranger, but before he could say anything, Bachira's face peaked from behind the wall, and they jumped on him with a large smile.

"You're actually here, Rin-chan!"

Rin wrinkled his nose. He didn't push Bachira nor took a step back, but his hands didn't touch them either — hanging in the air without knowing what to do with it. It was a weird feeling. No one in his life actually liked physical touch — even when he was in a romantic relationship with Hiori, they didn't cuddle, held hands or kissed much. Sometimes, they would entangled their limbs while watching a movie, but they did the same before going out together and even after ; it was their way to be closer when needed to. The only time someone hugged him like this was Reo, and the only reason Rin accepted it was because they didn't see each other for a month and an half because of Reo's parents — and it had been an awkward moment for both of them.

Bachira didn't mind. The stranger behind them looked at them with a raised eyebrow, wiggled them with a deadpan face to Rin and turned to disappear behind a door.

"Come!," Bachira exclaimed once they stop hugging Rin, cutting him from his thoughts.

Rin followed them without a word. The room where Bachira was working was even smaller and messier than the entrance — it was everything Bachira could possibly be in Rin's head. Papers sprawled everywhere, sketches and books scattered on the desk against the wall. Rin noticed the room didn't have a couch to tattoo, only fake skin on another small desk, so he at least knew Bachira would not tattoo him right now.

"So," Bachira started, sitting with crossed legs on their stool, beaming. "What do you want?"

Rin found himself at a lost for words. He looked at the wall behind Bachira, playing with the tips of his fingers. He thought about the question — he even had rough ideas sketched. He looked for one entire hour at Bachira's Instagram to be sure to understand their style — something about watercolor and vivid colors. One entire hour at thinking about how beautiful their art was, how it made him impatient to be Bachira's muse.

But now that he was facing them, he felt overwhelmed by the whole situation. My body is half a canvas, had said Bachira the first time they met — and Rin didn't answer back then, but he understood. If tattoos weren't an option not so long ago, he spent hours and hours drawing on his skin ; from small pieces to entire sleeves. Sometimes, he would draw on Hiori's back or Reo's legs and they would take pictures of it and ask him why he wasn't a professional already. (He knew the reason ; it was still Sae — but he knew, deep down, his parents were also part of it. Even in their absence, he knew he'd disappoint them again.)

Bachira didn't stop looking at him, tilting their head in wait. Rin suddenly took his sketchbook out of his bag, opened it at the desired page, and gave it to them. They didn't take a step back and their smile didn't waver either — and yet, Rin felt judged. Rin always had hard time opening up — always had hard time voicing anything related to himself, his feelings or his thoughts. His friends learned how to read him more than he opened himself (which also lead to misunderstandings, but Rin tried to not blame them for it. His therapist said it was easy to be mad at people who didn't understand you when you didn't even know who you were. Rin hated them for this session, but he grew from it.)

Giving his sketchbook was like opening his chest, laying his heart out and waiting for Bachira to take a bite. It was giving them keys to the door he put around the walls — giving them every weapon that would kill him on the spot. Would Bachira use them without a second thought? Would they hesitate? Would they torture him — or just kill him without a sound?

"I knew you were talented," they said, cutting Rin's train of thoughts.

And Rin looked at them with frowning eyebrows. He sat on the edge of the seat — ready to jump out of Bachira's claws. "But?," he retorts, weary.

"But your drawings aren't alive."

Rin didn't understand. Drawings weren't alive — they were strokes on paper. They couldn't move, or talk, love, or laugh. They couldn't feel, they were only a mirror of what someone wanted to say but couldn't with words. Rin had a lot of things to say, but he didn't want to have it tattooed on himself. He liked the flowers he painted, but Bachira frowned at them.

He was still too stunned to say to Bachira to not look at the other pages. He had nothing to hide, after all — and Bachira didn't say anything about the double pages with sketches of them. Them smiling, their hands, the words they exchanged, the tickets to the museum — Rin liked this piece of art. Bachira only let their fingers brush against the drawings of them, and then turned it to show Rin something a few pages after.

"I can tattoo you this."

Rin frown deepened. The owl was flying with clouds around it. Rin always had this weird obsession for them — he liked the way owls looked at humans and how interesting they were. He liked the way they were flying ; the way their eyes couldn't move — but their head could turn all around ; the way their sharp talons could catch any prey — but it always had been funny to watch them walk with their legs. Owls were mysterious, with a lot to give to the whole world. It wasn't like the depths of the ocean, where laid so many undiscovered species — but it was still something. So Rin always liked them, since he was a child.

(Since the day he saw one with Sae at night and his brother told him about them ; nothing was his, when he leaned on what he liked or didn't.)

"Why?," asked Rin and he felt stupid. The question was useless.

"Because it makes you free. The monster can see it."

The answer was as much stupid than the question. Rin raised an eyebrow and Bachira smiled at him. "I can also just not tattoo you."

Rin wrinkled his nose. He wasn't one to change anything from his plans — nor back down from a challenge. He ran marathons just to piss off the people who said he couldn't. He participated in a robot tournament just to be better than some jerks. He began to draw to make his parents mad.

His whole like was made to annoy people, and it wouldn't change now. So he took back the sketch, ripping off the page to give it to Bachira. "How much it'll cost me?"

Bachira shrugged, then smiled again. "I'll ask Lavinho. But it's a big piece. It'll take multiple sessions and cost you a lot — not that I am complaining. It means I'll have more money for our next date."

Rin froze. Or the world did — he didn't know, really. Date? It was a stupid word. No one would go on a date after two meetings. They didn't even know each other — but this thought felt wrong. They knew each other, now. It was different than the last week. He knew of Bachira things he didn't know of Hiori or Reo. Every time they met felt more personal than the last conversations he had with his friends. Once upon a time, he could have said he lived the same with Hiori — the late messages until the sun was up, the thrill of talking to each other, the secrets whispered in the shared bed… It was easy to remember. If they didn't love each other this way anymore, Rin still looked to those memories with a fond heart. But today — this privilege was given to Bachira ; they knew each other, even if it was nothing and even if it wasn't for a long time. So — a date was maybe stupid, but it made sense, in a way.

Bachira didn't seem to be interested in changing the word, or to feel ashamed, or awkward in any way. They got up, whistling some tune of a song Rin didn't know, waving at him to follow them. Rin executed himself without a word, his head still spinning from what Bachira said. How could they be so carefree? Rin never thought of all this as a date — he barely had any, and certainly not with a half-stranger. He didn't say a word about it. He didn't like how easy it was for them to play with his heart — and he didn't like how easy it was for his heart to feel flustered by those words.

Rin met Lavinho for exactly five seconds. Enough to earn a heavy shake of hands and a big laugh still resonating in his headache — they talked with Bachira while he looked around and let them alone quickly after. Bachira began to prepare his working area, and Rin watched them be in perfect harmony with their environment.

"I like to put music when I work," Bachira said. "I let you chose whatever you want."

Rin nodded, but didn't quite know what to put. His playlist was made meditative music and some queer songs — but he didn't really like having words in what he was listening, especially when he was studying. He still searched up his own profile to access his usual playlist, letting it fill the silence around them. He sat down when Bachira asked him to, a spark of anxiety slowly creeping in. Rin already had decided to have his leg tattooed — somewhere everyone would see, but that could still be hidden. Every time he would take a shower or run outside, he will be reminded how he got this piece because he wanted to be better. To prove himself — to the whole world, but also to his own heart. (His own heart, held by Sae — so, really, he wanted to prove himself to his brother, but the thought was too painful and useless to be kept.)

Until the stencil, Rin had no idea what details or changes Bachira made. For some stupid reasons, Rin trusted them entirely — it was their job, and he already knew Bachira's art style. He saw the pictures, the comments, how people were so happy to be tattooed by them (which really helped not backing down from this whole impulsive thing.)

"So," Bachira said after a while, sanitizing their hands before putting gloves on. "You can look and tell me if you like the placement. Don't forget it'll stay here forever — so if you want any change, tell me."

Rin nodded, before moving to look at his leg. The tablet had been put down so he could see it too — the splashed colors, the way wings were high and large, how the owl seemed so alive even if it was a drawing. It took the side of his thigh, falling near his knee — and it was beautiful. Rin kept his eyes on it for some more minutes, before laying down. If before he had not understood what Bachira had meant by saying his drawing was free ; now he could see it.

"It's one of your bigger piece, isn't it?"

Bachira looked at him before laughing behind their mask. "It is indeed. Want to bail?"

"Of course not," Rin said, shaking his head. "I am not a coward."

Bachira smiled at him. Rin closed his eyes.

Pain always had been some sort of anchor, so Rin didn't really feel anything — at least for most of it. After an hour, they took a break in the main room, a break Rin was relieved for ; he was getting too jumpy. He needed to move, stretch his legs, drink a bit.

"Eita is probably smoking outside, I am sorry if the smell come here," Bachira said, sitting down with an hot chocolate in their hands. "So, how is the experience so far?"

Rin shrugged. He didn't feel like he changed or anything — it was only colors on his skin. Something to make him reminder how free he could be. He frowned at his own thoughts, hiding behind his cup of water.

"Good," he still answered, looking at the half tattoo on his leg. "How many sessions will I need?"

Bachira hummed, looking at their fingers. "I think just a second one is fine — I usually wait two to three weeks between sessions on the same tattoo."

Rin nodded. He could wait. He wondered where he will be, in three weeks — if Sae would have understand he had to go away. If he would have abandoned Rin once more. (Or maybe — maybe they could talk.)

"Why are you doing this?"

Rin looked at Bachira. The question didn't make sense, but Rin understood it nonetheless.

"Prove myself," he said, finishing his glass. "My brother said I was a coward, a few years back."

He left it at that. He stood up, making his way to the tattooing table once again. He didn't want to talk more — he didn't want to fumble into himself. Bachira didn't ask any more questions.

This time, Bachira didn't put any music. Instead, they worked in silence and Rin almost fell asleep until they had to work around the knee.

"Are you doing this only to piss him off?," asked Bachira out of nowhere, another hour in. Something in their voice said I am disappointed you're not doing this for yourself, but the hint in the change of tone made Rin think they were more saying I want to know more.

"No," he answered, looking at the ceiling. "I am not some puppet."

Bachira laughed. Between the light and the mask, their eyes were shining with more gold than sun — Rin liked it. Even the sun needed shadows sometimes — and even with some, it would still glitter. (Rin should draw the crinkles of their eyes, one day.)

"Not asking you what happened, even if I am very curious," Bachira said after a few minutes. "But why did you built yourself around your brother if you think you're so free?"

Rin frowned. He didn't like the turn of the conversation — and he liked even less how Bachira read him. He pursued his lips to not answer something too harsh to be said. (He worked on this with his therapist ; he could still be angry and say things so violent it'll make the earth bent, but only if he meant it.)

"I think you talk too much about freedom to think you are free."

Bachira stopped his movement, looking at Rin with some surprise in their eyes. They weren't hurt — Rin didn't think so at least — but they still looked past Rin for a second before tilting their head.

"I never said I was free. Where did you get the idea?"

Rin blinked at them. Where? How?, he thought. Because you seem so carefree — because you said it was a date while not knowing me nor even thought about a refusal. Because you said you were half a canvas and asked me to tattoo you while I was still a stranger drinking a coffee. Because you seem to know everything about freedom, he wanted to answer. It seemed petty still — like he was lying instead of finding the truth.

"You're not like me," was the only answer he found. Bachira didn't seem satisfied, humming while going back to work.

"It doesn't mean I am free, Rin-chan."

Rin frowned. It seemed it was the only thing he could do, today. "But your monster is."

"And the monster isn't me. It is part of me — I am part of it too, but we're not the same."

They smiled. "But I am glad you listen to me enough to remember the monster. Curious enough to think we're free. I knew so, but I am sure of it, now."

Rin looked away, feeling almost shy under Bachira's gaze.

If Bachira wasn't free— how could he, one day? Bachira was the Sun — high in the sky. So beautiful that people needed to stop to admire them and still be burnt by the beauty. (But people couldn't see the Sun totally. No matter how much the Sun yearned to be watched, people couldn't for more than a few seconds. Maybe that was it — the curse of being bright.)

"If I had to chose, I'd chose being free too. But a golden cage always seemed more welcoming."

Rin looked at Bachira and Bachira didn't look back. Rin was reaching a point he couldn't understand — not yet, at least. He laid back correctly on the padded table and closed his eyes.

Bachira Meguru was a mystery Rin was willing to understand.

Chapter Text

That I'll get what I want

I'm afraid of what I want

Rin finally fell back into something looking like a routine. He woke up at five in the morning, took care of his tattoo, put on a jogging that wasn't tight (even if he wasn't sure he liked it) and go run around the city, taking back the same path he usually did. He would take two iced coffee, offer one to Bachira on his way home, ignore his heart every time he saw them, and go home. From there, it was another ride — but so different than the first days of living with Sae.

For some reason, his brother grew respect and learned how Rin was living — no more favorite mug used or dishes in the sink. Sae would do his part of chores and take care not to disturb Rin's peace — and it pissed him off. He didn't want his brother to know about his life. He didn't want his brother taking care of him. If anything, Rin would have preferred rage and resentment over this fake playacting. It wasn't like they were close — wasn't like he wanted to share anything with Sae. No matter how many efforts he'd do, Sae still destroyed so many things. Too many to be forgiven. (And no matter what his therapist said to him — how he needed to reflect on all of those feelings, how if you didn't have to forgive anyone, even your family members, you still had to be sure it was what he wanted — he wasn't ready. He didn't want to forgive anyone. Not even himself.)

Seeing Bachira every day had been something new, but it hadn't been uncomfortable. It was only a few minutes per day, and most of the time it was Bachira talking about everything and nothing. Sometimes, they would join Otoya for his cigarette break at the smoking area, and he would share a cigarette with Bachira while Rin was listening to them. He wasn't sure he really appreciated Otoya — but Bachira liked him. For what he understood, they met when they came to the shop — dated for a few months, then broke up because they were better friends than partners. Something about Bachira needed more than Otoya could give, but Rin didn't have details about it and he didn't push it.

When they weren't physically together, they sent messages. Between two tattoos sessions, study moments, they would send each other pictures or talk about their day. It began with Bachira sending a picture of an owl statue found in their boxes (Rin was horrified when he learned that Bachira still had closed boxes after three years living in the same apartment) and it continued with blue flowers with the caption They're almost the same hue as your eyes!. No one would use hue in real life, nor know which one was Rin's eyes, but Bachira did and it made Rin smile. (When he noticed it, he put down his phone down and took a moment to reflect on how Bachira would made him smile so easily. He found no answer.)

Rin sent messages too — about a book that Bachira could enjoy. (And he bought it but never offered it.) About a mug that could be perfect for Bachira if one day he came at his house. (But he never said the reason behind why he sent such a picture.) Then, slowly, their pictures turned into some written messages — Bachira complaining about work, Rin talking about his best friends. Sometimes, Bachira would ask a question — would you rather be a bird or immortal? and it wouldn't make sense. If you were to live on an deserted island, what would you take ; your rage, a golden cage or a deodorant? but Rin would still answer. It was a game and Bachira was the master of it. (In any horror movie, Rin would have died.)

Hiori was the first one to notice the shift in Rin's behavior. Where Rin would always turn off his phone when they were together, he would now let his eyes flicker every time a pop-up notification would light up the screen. Where Rin would never smile (or at least, not without trying to hide it), he would now have his lips curling up ever so slightly upwards. It was nothing for most of people ; an unexpected change for Hiori.

No one knew about the tattoo yet — still a secret he would keep very close to his heart — but when Reo and Hiori decided they needed a Best friend meeting, Rin knew he needed to talk about them. About how Bachira changed his life like a tempest ; never destroying, but quite close. That's exactly how he find himself going at Hiori's apartment, sitting at the same place, the same tea in the same mug than usual. At least, here, he didn't have to know if Sae was trying to be better or just gain his trust again to cut him up better.

Fifteen minutes in some small talk — mostly hosted by Reo, because he was the only one who really knew about small talk around the table — Hiori decided he had waited enough. He leaned in to watch Rin in the eyes and he was met by the same raise of eyebrow Rin would usually gave him. Hiori smiled like waiting for this reaction and drummed his fingers against the table.

"So, what's their name?"

This time, it was Reo who raised an eyebrow behind his coffee. They all noticed Rin's changes — but Hiori was the only one who could say anything about it without Rin trying to kill him.

"Is it the one we met last time?"

Rin frowned. He almost forgot about this — he also didn't know Reo actually saw Bachira. He shrugged, taking another sip of his mug. He knew once he'd talk, they'll never stop — gossiping was always a step ahead of being friends, and Rin had suddenly the most juicy gossip in town. Honestly, he would prefer when they were talking about new neighbor's crush or how Kurona was now talking to a German friend and how he was always flustered while talking about him.

So he took his time, letting the predators look at him impatiently. When he put down his cup, he crossed his hands on his knees and took a deep breath — it made Reo's smile twitch into something he didn't like. He could have chosen other best friends — one who wouldn't put their noses in everything he was doing. (Not that he regretted it — but he would be caught dead before saying this out loud.)

"It is."

Hiori tilted his head on the side. He didn't know Reo saw Bachira — Rin could already hear his best friend's voice telling him how it wasn't fair Reo met them before him.

"A tattoo artist!"

And Hiori wasn't stupid — he narrowed his eyes at Rin almost instantly, thinking only for an instant before licking his lips in a dangerous smile. "Bachira Meguru?"

"You know them?," asked Reo, putting down his cup. Rin rolled his eyes. They were making it such a big deal for something so small.

"No. Rin dropped their card last time."

Rin sighed. He couldn't believe his best friends were like this — or, more exactly, he never thought he'd be one day the subject of their shenanigans. But fortunately for him and the lest conversation he had with Nagi, he wasn't weaponless. So he took the conversation upfront, raising an eyebrow at Reo.

"When is your date with Nagi?"

The reaction was immediate — Reo looked startled, like no one could understand Nagi finally made a move after seeing him kicking his feet for twenty minutes the last time they face timed face timed Like Rin was the only one they could read — Reo was an open book once you got to know him outside his money and privileges. (Rin never had hard time reading him, even back when he wasn't bothering himself with people's feelings.)

Rin was almost worried when he saw Reo's face growing red, his eyes darting away from his friends. Hiori looked equally amused, putting his cheek in the palm of his hand, leaning into Reo's personal space.

"You didn't tell me about any date," but they all knew it was only a tease. Hiori wasn't stupid, and if he noticed Rin's behavior, he also noticed Reo's.

"Nothing to be said — I… He just asked me to go to the arcade with him and nothing changed," but he trailed off, eyes away.

Rin and Hiori glanced at each other — a bit worried about what mistake Nagi made. He already broke Reo's heart so many time ; eroded it with nonchalance, pulling on strings he burnt. They talked and talked and yet it was never totally enough — two flames destined to burn out the other no matter how much they wanted to be one. It had been better in the last year, because Hiori was better than Rin to give advices and Nagi met Baro — a friend that kept pushing him to just be less stupid about Reo.

But it was so easy to slip again. (Will Sae go back to bad habits if Rin gave him another chance?)

"Until he asked if he could kiss me and— it was so beautiful. I dreamed of this moment all my life, and I was so afraid to be disappointed — but I wasn't. I… wanted this. I wanted this moment to happen, and it happened, and I want to go it again."

Rin almost rolled his eyes. He almost argued on the fact he didn't need details about how Nagi kissed him — but Reo was dazzling. At this moment, it was like the world was finally letting him rest. Hiori probably saw the same thing, because his smile was softer, eyes crinkling at Reo's excited words.

"And then he said it wasn't our first date, thought for all those years we were already dating."

Rin frowned. Hiori frowned. Reo looked ready to die on spot.

"What?," said Hiori, blinking at his friend.

"That's exactly the reaction I had. He explained that he thought I knew since I promised him to be always together while giving him an apple candy so many years ago. He was waiting for me to say when we will marry all those years."

Rin couldn't believe it. In all honesty, he knew their relationship was complicated — to live and to even understand it. He also knew Reo was sometimes emotionally dense, especially about reading Nagi's intentions. Rin saw everything — the first downfall, the second, the stupid dance of back and forth, the hurt, the love ; he never knew about any candied apple.

"You what—," but Hiori cut him, looking in disbelief.

"He thought you were getting married and he never questioned the fact you never kissed?"

"He thought I didn't like it," Reo shrugged.

"You sleep, eat, breathe together. How can he— he never questioned your date?"

"He knows about polyamory and thought…"

Rin wanted to pull his hair. How was a good question — but he wasn't totally surprised either. They were straight out coming from a comedy show at this point. He went up, going to Hiori's bathroom. He needed to replay all this and think because— he couldn't believe it. Had Nagi asked him because he thought he was already having dates with Reo but Reo just didn't understand? It wouldn't surprise Rin either — Reo was intelligent unless it came from his own feelings. His low self-esteem made him see the world behind tinted glasses ; a world where people couldn't care or love him for what he was.

He wondered how many years Nagi loved Reo for who he truly was and Reo just didn't see it. (Did Sae loved him for who he was? Did Sae came back because he saw the mistakes he did?)

He came back to the room after splashing cold water on his face.

"Did you tell him?," he asked, finishing his cup.

"Tell him what?"

Reo seemed sincerely confused — eyes flickering between Rin and Hiori. Hiori had no answers and looked at Rin with a frown, so Rin straightened up, trying to get rid of the wrinkle of his nose. He didn't like conversation about relationships or such ; it was always an headache, and as someone who didn't have the same concept as love as so many people, they were hard to navigate. But for Reo and the sake of this conversation, he needed to push through this.

"Did you tell him you love him too?"

Reo stopped — blinking, breathing, moving. Rin grow worried, almost leaning in to see he was just still alive — but Reo's eyes widen and he jerked off, his knee bumping against the wood of the table.

"I am the worst idiot," he said, a bit breathless.

Rin cleared his throat, ready to say something — but nothing came. Hiori turned to Reo so he could handle the conversation a bit better than Rin. His hands find Reo's body instantly and keep him against his chest, murmuring soft words to Reo's ear, making him listen to his steady breath. Rin watched the scene and wondered — did he ever told Sae he loved him?

Reo finally calmed down after two hours of talking — he whined and cried in Hiori's arms until he had worn out and fell asleep just there. With Hiori out of service, Rin decided to cook himself ; he wasn't a bad cook if he had a recipe, and Hiori's kitchen had a lot of cooking books. Most of them were handmade — tested by Kurona and him when it wasn't recipes given by their friends. He remembered how he wrote down his favorite ochazuke recipe a few months back, looking at his trembling words on the paper. He looked around to be sure to have every ingredient needed and began to work quickly after.

In the time it took for Rin to cook, Reo and Hiori had decided they needed to know more about Bachira Meguru. They started eating, Reo still cuddling with Hiori and Rin in front of them. He wasn't a good cuddler most of the time (even if Hiori always argued on this) and he didn't feel like he could keep up with any physical touch — no one resented him for it, so he relaxed in his seat, looking at his bowl. It wasn't the best looking dish he made and he grimaced when Hiori looked at his with a small chuckle as he tried his best to make something pretty. He also put away a bowl for Kurona for when they'd come home (he put some shark-looking seaweed just for him.)

He could have appreciated the half-silence — Reo was reading an article on his phone, Hiori humming some tune under his breath — and he'd learned to dread the silence when it came to his best friends. Especially when Hiori looked up to him, crossing his hands on the table.

"So… Bachira Meguru," he said, a smile on his lips. Rin knew this smile — the kind which was saying "I will make you talk wether you want it or not and you can't escape me."

Reo raised an eyebrow, putting down his phone to look at Rin too, tilting his head in an interest he wasn't trying to hide. Rin rolled his eyes. He wasn't interest in sharing anything about Bachira — but it wasn't like he could run away from the conversation again. "What about them?"

Hiori smiled wider. Rin regretted his own words the same second.

"Well, yer the one who should answer this question."

Rin wrinkled his nose. Of course. Reo moved, thanking Hiori for the cuddles in a whisper, before leaning in on the table. It was his way to say I need to know everything and they all knew he will have what he was asking for. (Because Reo was like this — having whatever he wanted. It didn't work often with Rin and Hiori, and that was the reason why they worked so much together — they knew limits and how to tell Reo he was getting too work up or straight up reckless. Unless it was gossip, because Hiori was also skilled at putting his nose in everyone's life to know more about them.)

He thought an instant at Hiori's words, eyes flickering on the screen of his own phone. He warned Bachira that he wouldn't be able to talk a lot, and they only sent some pictures of dogs visiting the shop once in a while.

"You said Nagi asked you on a date," he began with, voice low and tentative. "How?"

Reo frowned. Hiori looked at him with a silent question in his eyes — Rin had no answer.

"He… just told me it was a date? After we kissed, though."

Rin didn't understand — was it how it worked? Say it was a date after it so the person couldn't go back? Or maybe it was just how Bachira worked. And Nagi — but Nagi was a freak of his own.

"Bachira told me we had a date."

Reo almost spilled the end of his ochazuke and Rin narrowed his eyes at him — but before he could say anything about being careful, Hiori let out a strangled laugh. Rin could have felt mocked (he did) but he only shrugged, not taking account of the overly dramatic reactions.

"But I didn't think of it as a date. So I want to take him on a date too."

"You— Rin."

He raised an eyebrow at Reo and his small sigh. Why did he feel like the table had turned — like he was the one who wasn't understanding something obvious. He didn't take offense (he did) but he still looked away, crossing his arms on his chest.

"What?," he asked with a colder voice. Hiori only answered with a smile and a voice too soft, as if luring him into the feelings he wasn't processing.

"Where do ya want to take 'hem?"

"Aquarium. It's pretty, I can stop to draw and they send me four videos about visiting aquariums in the last two days."

Hiori chuckled, shaking his head with the same soft eyes a mother looked at his child (neither of them knew what a mother's love was.)

"Cliche, but it works. But let me ask — why do ya want to take them on a date?"

Rin blinked. He looked at Reo, but he gave away no answer to the stupid question. No, really — the question made no sense. Why wouldn't he want to take Bachira on a date? It was just fair — they gave, he took. It was his turn to give and Bachira's turn to take. It was a perfect deal, and Rin wanted to sketch some marine animals since a long tine, so it was a win-win situation.

"Why wouldn't I?"

Hiori and Reo exchanged a glance. Rin knew he answered wrong, because Hiori leaned in over the table too, offering his hand for Rin to take. (Rin didn't. He remembered how soft Hiori's skin feel and he couldn't handle it now.)

"It's the first time ya talk about dating anyone since we broke up, Rin," Hiori said in a smile. " Do ya… like them?"

It was such an easy question. Rin frowned nonetheless — he couldn't understand. Hiori knew how difficult it was for Rin to make sense of his feeling — especially love. They had a lot of conversations about it ; about how he still wanted Hiori in his life even if it meant not being together this way. Rin could live without kissing or sleeping in his arms, but he couldn't live without having him around. It was the same with Reo — he grew weak around the both of them. (His therapist would scold him for it ; emotions aren't weaknesses, they would say. Rin doubted it.)

He looked at his empty bowl. He wasn't bothered when Bachira would touch him. He wasn't bothered either about Bachira texting him. Not bothered when they asked questions about him and werewolves and golden cages. If it had been anyone else — he would not have entertained them.

"I think I want to know more of them."

Hiori smiled. Maybe it was because he was relieved — if Rin had interest in someone else, then they wouldn't have to ask themselves Do we regret it? anymore. They were both important in each other lives and they would not change it for anything in the world — and yet sometimes it was simpler to torture their mind with What ifs. They weren't happy together but were they really better now?

But Rin knew it wasn't the reason Hiori smiled, because his eyes glittered and he knew it meant the smile was genuine. He was happy Rin met someone else who made him comfortable enough to asked them out on a date. Rin looked away.

"An aquarium seems good," Reo chipped in, eyes flickering between the two of them. "I can send you the address of the one I like. It's more sensory friendly — a lot of places to sit and tamed lights without being stressful. It's also usually pretty calm."

Rin nodded. It was a good idea. He didn't want to end up in a meltdown — especially in a new setting. Especially with Bachira around — he trusted them to kind of know how to act, but he also knew he could be too much when he was having sensory breakdowns. He remembered the time he almost wounded Hiori by biting him after he tried to calm Rin. He wasn't afraid of himself, just self-conscious enough to know how to not hurt his friends.

He took his phone, looking at the last dog pic Bachira send.

Let's have another date.

Rin-chan! What a good idea! Thought you'd never ask!

Rin rolled his eyes at his screen and he ignored Hiori's chuckle.

but the only potential time im free is after your tattoo :( you can still come at the shop to hang with me, tho

Alright.

He could make it work. (He just needed to ignore how excited he was to have a moment alone with Bachira again.)

Chapter Text

 But you still haunt my head time to time

Falling back into a routine, no matter how fragile, made Rin more relaxed. It made him lower his defenses, thinking he'd be safer now that the ghost was quieter beneath the floorboard. The holidays ended with the beginning of the silence outside the door ; if it didn't mean anything for Rin since he kept up with all his projects, it did mean he had to go back to daily plans with less time for his friends. Each day began to look like the same ; go for a jog before the sun got up until reaching the end of the park, going home for a shower and some tattoo care, going to university with his headphones and sunglasses on, answering Hiori about what coffee he wanted (the same as usual), talking with Bachira on his first break, pushing throughout the day while talking to Reo and Hiori, going home to study or draw, playing video games with his friends three evenings per week.

His new routine probably broke Sae's, because the first time he came home after university, Sae was in the kitchen and looked almost startled to see his brother there. At least, Rin knew Sae was doing all this on purpose ; the silence, the faint step in the corridor, the smallness instead of eating all the space like he would do before. Rin didn't let himself fall for this stupid act ; he walked to the fridge to take a yogurt and eat it at the small table, ignoring him totally for a few seconds.

"Groceries list is on the fridge," he said as Sae was finishing washing his cup. "Your turn to go."

Sae looked at him with the same expressionless face. It wasn't cold like the day he spat how useless Rin was — it was simply nothing. Both of them mastered in the deadpan expression ; scowling instead of smiling, hating to show anything on their face other than rage. (But maybe it was more Rin's than Sae's rage — sometimes, Rin would ask if Sae had any feelings and he would remember that yes, he had some.)

His brother didn't answer. He didn't nod, didn't glance to the list — he took his phone off the counter and walked away.

"Looks who's the coward, now," said Rin out of pettiness. Sae definitely heard — he saw the twitch of fingers, the half of second of waiting before taking the next step. But he didn't say anything and disappeared as quickly he appeared.

Rin stared into space, frozen. The yogurt stayed half-eaten in front of him, and his eyes couldn't stop searching for a Sae that wasn't there anymore. It was childish ; a longing for something that hadn't existed for years. He waited just as he did when he was younger, alone in the living room, hoping Sae would come home earlier. He waited like Sae would suddenly think Rin was worth something — worth going back on his own steps and finally confront him.

But Sae didn't come back. Sae never came back ; when his mind was set on something, he stayed on this road. Rin saw it multiple times ; like when he asked for those awful bangs and when their parents refused, he messed up his own hair to force them to take him to the hairstylist. Then, he managed to bribe the hairdresser into giving him the hairstyle he wanted. He got scolded for weeks after that — but Sae didn't care. He did it again when he started to play football. His parents could not force him to back off — and Sae knew it. Made sure to leave without a word to play for hours on end, until they decided it was safer for everyone if Sae joined a club.

For a long time, Rin thought Sae had set his course with him, with promises made under the blanket on a thunderstorm night. We will be the best strikers together, Sae said, his voice as monotonous as usual ; Rin accepted. He took the small finger and shook it to seal their promises. Later, Sae said ; we will both move out from here. We will always be together.

Rin didn't know when it shifted. He forgave him when Sae told him he planned to go to Spain. It was a path to their dream — and Rin had so much chances to grew in Sae's absence. He trusted Sae to come back to him, maybe even move away together. It was only a matter of time ; a few years without Sae against a lifelong solution to never see their parents ever again.

His eyes trailed off from his yogurt, glancing at his screen. Bachira sent him a message, but he didn't have the heart to open it just yet. Instead, he decided to get up, make himself a cup of coffee, and sat in the patio. Cats were already coming to him the moment he stepped out, and he accepted their presence with cuddles and gentle scratches behind their ears.

His therapist always told him how he never forgave Sae because he never got the chance to hear his explanations. Theoretically— Rin could have cut contact with him like he did with their parents. He could have went on with his life without Sae. He was sure that— if he gave a bit more of himself, pushed himself, he could get away from Sae's grasp on him. But deep down, Rin wanted to give him another chance. At least try to get something out of him. He didn't trust his therapist's words much, because they were paid to fix him, but they always put an emphasis on the fact that at the end of the day, it was Rin's choice ; they wouldn't be disappointed or mad for wanting to reach out Sae again or cutting him off his life.

So Rin thought he wanted nothing from Sae. The pain wasn't worth his mental health — he grew out the promises they made and tried to not think much about Sae. But now that he was here, only a few stairs separating them— Rin wasn't so sure anymore. And the truth was — he never had been sure about it. Reo and Hiori understood it quickly, even if they never pushed him to talk about it or talk to Sae. It was there, something silent in their friendship that everyone saw but no one wanted to talk about. In the rare moments he did talk about it and his conflicted feelings, his friends made him more confused — but it was his own fault. His thoughts never had any answer and not knowing what to do was frustrating. He had so many possibilities and yet none was perfect. But it wasn't just about him — he also could not know how Sae would react. Because they grew apart, because Rin wasn't sure Sae understood how hurt he was, because if he decided to be better, he wasn't sure Sae did — either with therapy or self-reflection.

One of the cat meowed and it snapped him out of his thoughts. He reached out for the small basket where he stored cat's food and gave some to the strays around him.

Sae was a coward and Rin knew it. He ran away from him without Rin and he decided to be a midfielder out of nowhere — he left Rin alone in the abuse and the silence of their home, with half-broken dreams he didn't know what to do with. Rin tried, of course ; to be better. To be good enough so Sae would see him. And he could have ; he was a star on the soccer field, getting better each month — the downfall had been like living a first death. Maybe it too had been his fault ; maybe he trusted his wings too much and watched them melt against the Sun without stepping down. If Sae was a coward, Rin was a fool.

His career ended on a wound ; stupid one, made in training. Something about being young and stupid, thinking he could keep up without eating and sleeping much. Victory was feasting on his mind, not letting him breath or think ; the only goal was to destroy everything. If he had to do something with his life, it would been killing Sae with his own weapons.

He never had the chance to do it. For Sae quit soccer and Rin couldn't play anymore, they had nothing in common again. Two brothers the Fates decided to doom from the start. And yet—

Yet, he couldn't stop thinking about Bachira's words. The golden cage — the want to live but not doing it. Going against Sae's perfect life was just another way to make him look.

Rin decided he had enough thinking for the day. Stirring those feelings was a painful process and he needed someone to talk to — he could talk to his therapist, but he had an appointment in two days and he didn't need words made to make him think. He could contact Hiori or Reo, but he wasn't sure he could bear it either — they were kind and pushy when they needed to be, but it was just not it. He knew he would see them and would explain everything soon, but not today. He took out his phone again, and his notifications bar still displayed Bachira's message.

It was a short one — I am free this afternoon! — and Rin's answer was as brief — Meet me at the coffee shop at 2 PM.

Bachira was already there when Rin arrived. The sun was pouring through the windows ; honeycomb-yellow the meeting saffron of their eyes. Glittering and gleaming, they almost seemed like a living painting — made ethereal by the halo against their hair and the stars scattered over their cheeks. Rin never noticed the freckles, galaxies blending with their skin — he was an impostor who thought he could keep up with all the details of an angel. But the constellations were proof of being an human, and even if he watched he never looked at Bachira. It was so easy to miss the small scar running on their upper lips, the dimples brushing against their lips, the uneven strands of hair over their face — locks they cut themselves with dull scissors.

Rin starred at them a bit too long, because Yukimiya tilted his head at him with a mischievous smile, hidden behind his innocent eyes.

"What," spat Rin when he finally looked at him. Yukimiya only shrugged, pushing his order on the counter.

"For someone who doesn't like people, you observe them a lot."

Rin scowled, wrinkling his nose in some sort of frustration — a fake one, but Yukimiya didn't need to know this. He couldn't bring himself to be annoyed when Bachira was only a few steps from him, so he took his flat white with a last death glare and walked over to the table.

"Rin-chan!"

Rin sighted, sitting in front of Bachira. They beamed at him in return, one of their knee against their chest and the other swinging under the table. They kept hitting Rin's shin, but he didn't say anything about it. The pain kept him anchored instead of losing himself in an useless contemplation. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't remember everything of Bachira, so he concentrated on what he could recall — the bright yellow under their hair, the hands that tattooed him, the weight of their fingers brushing against his when they walked side by side.

"It's been a while!," and then in a whisper, not quite shameful words but a secret for only them to hear, "I missed you."

Rin never missed a lot — everything was ephemeral. Some fleeting moments, short-lived memories, evanescent displays of affection. (He missed the way Sae looked at him when they were younger ; the gentle hands ; the bond they thought would never break ; the promises ; the late nights watching horror movies, curled up on their couch even though they were too young for this.)

In return, no one missed Rin. No one would stop on their track to say — hey, I missed you. Hiori could live without him and Reo had other people more important to miss. Sae never looked in his direction and their parents stopped caring a long time ago. If anything, the cats he fed would miss their dry and wet food. It was a statement Rin was comfortable with — he didn't need to be missed. He didn't need to be remembered either. He was only another soul on earth, nothing more than a living-being who would die, rot and go back where he belonged ; in the ground, to feed every plant and insects living there. He had his place in the scheme of life since he was born and nothing could change it ; being remembered was such a useless want. When civilizations would fall and the world would tilt, no one would be remembered at all.

And yet— yet. The words fell on him like an anvil, heavy and stunning. He stopped moving for a second, his drink burning the tip of his fingers, mid-air ; his heart stumbled over itself, missed a few beat before echoing against his ribs, in his veins, in his head — deafening sound against every laborious breath he would take.

Bachira didn't seem to notice, because they leaned in, still beaming at him as if it was the only thing they knew how to do — take everything of the world and put it on their lips to make it pretty.

"We will soon be able to do your second tattoo session!"

He had almost forgotten about it. Almost. When he wasn't looking at it or catching a glimpse in the mirror of his room, he could almost forgot the drawing on his thigh, half-finished. No one noticed it just yet — as he did his best to hide it from everyone. It was a secret for them only. And the words were still resonating, but Bachira gave him an escape — something to hold onto and stop worry about what they would meant by it. Rin didn't know if he should dwell on it, think about how the words seemed so true, so natural ; a reality he had never thought about but was just there, ready to be touched. If he listened to the maelstrom of thoughts, he could discern the faint I missed you too hanging against his tongue. It wasn't poison but still felt like it. Ambrosia given to mortal and ready to kill him without a sound.

Rin probably missed his cue to answer, because Bachira made some sort of face and tilted their head at him, eyebrow frowned like they were trying to say something without spilling any words. Silence hanged up in the air — not really heavy, but still questioning, like searching for something Rin couldn't give. An expectation of exhilaration or even relief maybe — but how could he? I missed you, Bachira said like it was nothing. And Rin was still burning himself, with those words he never said to anyone, not even his parents when he was young and still thought they could love him, not even to his brother when he still thought they were together in every horror of life. Rin had never been an sentimentalist and everyone around him understood it — even his therapist, who would try to make him aware of what he was feelings with metaphors instead of direct words like they were doing in the first sessions. Hiori and Reo didn't wait for soft words either — reassurance sometimes, a few sentences who would make the world shift a bit and make them smile, but it was never more than this.

"Did you burn your tongue?"

Rin shook his head — a bit too quickly, turning his vision blurry for a second, before feeling himself gulp down so loudly he wondered if Yukimiya could have heard him. Bachira tilted their head a bit more, lips pinched like they were trying to not laugh, too afraid to make Rin feel like being made fun of.

"We can schedule the next session now, if you want?"

Rin nodded. It was all he could do. It was a stupid, tepid reaction even — half-made out of a feeling he couldn't even name. He knew it wasn't love because love was something he could never understand — it never made sense to him, especially after listening to Reo and the way he loved, or watched those romance movies, or played those otome games. He tried and tried again ; no matter the gender of the person in front of him, love didn't exist. What happened with Hiori had been tenderness — appreciation. A something that ran between the two of them because they could understand each other — had given so many first times without a second thought and Rin wouldn't take it back. It wasn't love but it was enough for Rin to try so many new things he learned to appreciate or hate.

So it wasn't love, but it was definitely something. He couldn't ignore it. He could run away from it, dig a hole into the ground and plant it far away from him if he wanted but he couldn't just ignore it.

He took his phone out to look at his calendar. He usually had a notebook to write down every one of his appointment, but he forgot it in his room and noticed it halfway there. It gave the permission to the world to change its course again and his notification bar blinked with a message.

What brand do you take for your protein bars?

Rin almost threw his phone through the room. It did made sense — Rin was the one who told Sae to do the groceries, and with the years of absence he couldn't know what brand Rin took every day. He didn't know the noise of the package opening, the crumble of plastic, the faint scent of apples. He didn't know how Rin took one every morning after his run, how he would take a few bites while looking at his homework of the day or answering a last message before going to class.

"Who's Sae?"

Rin jolted, eyes glaring at Bachira when he finally felt them leaning over his phone. Bachira answered with a smile — wide and amused, without any apology to tug on their lips.

"None of your business."

He looked a few seconds to the screen before answering. Nothing else than the brand and the message got seen the second after he sent it. He imagined Sae in the aisle of the shop, looking at his phone without moving, wondering if Rin would even answer his question. Maybe he wandered in other aisles while waiting, taking the vegetables Rin asked for. Maybe he even took a treat for himself — but it would surprise Rin. Sae was an oiled machine, and even if he stopped soccer on a professional level, he was still careful with everything he would eat, counting each calorie that went into his mouth. (For a long while, Rin even thought Sae fell into some sort of obsession. Eating disorders were known in the sports area ; everyone could fall in as quickly as anything else. Running for a perfect body, one which will never fail you, make you push until you were the best. Rin never fell, but the slope had been harsh when he was younger.)

He found himself looking at his screen a bit too much, lost in his own thoughts. It was reflecting his face — impassive, if not a bit tired, pale skin against the dark screen. He opened his calendar again and looked at Bachira.

They never took their eyes off him. Unwavering, locked on Rin's face, they seemed to be trying to answer questions only them knew about. When Rin looked at them, they smiled again, and took their own notebook.

"I am free Tuesday next week. It'll probably take all your afternoon."

Rin nodded slowly. He theoretically had something — but he could, for once in his life, skip a class. Especially since Bachira most likely cancelled something to be here with him too. He put down their appointment and slid his phone in his backpack. He didn't need it after all. If Sae had any other question, he could be less stupid and find the answers himself.

Silence washed over the table, a weighed veil on their shoulders. Bachira sipped in their drink and Rin found himself playing with his fingers, drumming against the wood of the table. It was an odd feeling ; this stillness in the air, nothing but obscure and muddy, walking in a dark room with this eerie feeling that a monster is lurking around. Rin had never been afraid of monsters, not in the way children would be afraid to see them at every corner or under their bed — Rin learned everything to be able to kill them and make sure they'd never hurt him. It was unusual for him to be nervous like this. Rin was an Itoshi and Itoshis had no right to be scared or anxious. He was meant to be perfect.

He knew where it came from — the coldness he showed when Bachira mentioned—

"He is my brother," and Rin's voice is barely a lost whisper. Something that could have been the clinging of glasses, the noise of the machines spitting coffee, the wind hitting the door of the entrance. It could have been anything — but it was words and Bachira heard them.

They put down their cup, eyes flickering on Rin's face, waiting for him to continue. For a moment, Rin wasn't sure what he could say — he is my brother and he abandoned me. He is my brother and he betrayed me. He is my brother and he is a ghost made of memories.

"We were inseparables, younger. He came back in my life after three years without a sign."

He shrugged — the uneasy feeling in his stomach, the words of his therapists, the poison on Sae's lips. He was trying t make everything go away because it was so easy to not think about how his life had been ruined and still— he managed to make it beautiful again.

"And?"

Rin looked up, narrowing his eyes at Bachira. And? as if it was the most logical question to ask after this. How could they know anything about it? Rin kept it all for himself for all those years. His friends had glimpses of it — the fights, the anger, the despair — but nothing of what really happened.

"And I think I want to forgive him. I don't think he would understand."

Here was the truth ; it wasn't ugly or heartbreaking. It came for the childhood they spent together, and all the hours Rin spent alone to heal his own heart. It came for all those years of silence, all those moments where his parents decided to yell at him, all those times he had to handle himself because he never had been loved. For some, it would even been the only way to have an happy ending — to forgive and go ahead with his life, Sae not far from him. Rin couldn't care less about what people were thinking or wanted out of their relationship — it wasn't theirs and Rin knew "fixing it" never meant for them to go back to what they were before.

But deep down— lost between his heart and his ribs, where the sun couldn't get what it wished, Rin knew one thing ; he wanted to give Sae another chance. Years before this moment, he wouldn't even have tried anything of the sort — even thinking about it would have been an error, an oddness in the way he hated.

His heart healed with time. No matter what he thought, everything changed — and the hurt with it.

"You can't know if you don't try," Bachira said and it seemed so natural, like Rin shouldn't have tried to do something else than this. Then, with their voice so soft, unwavering, they added ; "maybe your brother isn't the monster you thought he was anymore."

The words resonated beyond the silent hatred, beyond whatever he was thinking the second before — it was there, laying bare in the hands of the scarified one. Sae wasn't a monster and never had been — he was just an human and the consequences of it. Rin always knew and still— he couldn't believe the truth. Not totally. It was there and it was something Rin couldn't escape even if he wanted to. Even if he'd run away, even if he'd try to never see Sae ever again, he needed to accept this ; the ghost of memories was made by Rin and Rin alone.

For his brother was still alive and breathing and waiting, Rin needed to be the one to dig the grave he buried everything they had been.

It was mortifying to see all he believed in shatter around him. No one couldn't erase all Sae did to him — the poison and broken promises and the silence that followed. But maybe— maybe they were mistakes. Something Sae regretted as much as Rin ; something that kept him up at night. Maybe it was the reason he asked Rin to be his best man. Regrets Sae couldn't let go off and he chose the most twisted way to held his hand for Rin to take.

Bachira was still watching him, head tilted ever so slightly, and when Rin looked at them, he remembered why he asked to see them at first.

"Let's have a date," Rin blurted out, eyes flickering on their face.

They pinched their lips like stopping themselves to laugh and Rin narrowed his eyes at them, wrinkling his nose. It wasn't that funny.

"Isn't it already one?"

Rin's frown deepened. He could argue that talking about his personal problem and his brother was hardly a date — more of a pathetic vent session.

"A real one," and then, almost exclaim too loudly, "now. Let's have our date now."

This time, Bachira doesn't stop their laugh. People turned their head to their table and Rin glared at every one of them. He wanted Bachira to keep beaming and laughing like they were doing so, not caring for a single soul in the world— they still stopped after a few seconds and the world felt a little bit colder.

"Let's go, then."

Chapter Text

We don't have to speak, we can do whatever

Rin had scheduled time in his routine for his friends. He had game night three evenings a week and a meeting with his friends each month. If they could meet more, they would — but between work, studies and life just happening, it could be an uphill battle to meet with the three of them. But Reo always made sure this deal was respected and Rin never had anything to say against it.

Rin could make his dates with Bachira part of his routine too, because he couldn't stop but appreciate it. If their first date had been made of weird questions, this one had been punctuated by Bachira leaning in Rin's personal space to ask Where are we going? and Rin didn't answer any of them, feigning frustration by wrinkles of the nose. The truth was— if he didn't say anything, then Bachira had every reason to lean in again and whine against his shoulder. Rin wanted them to stay here and never move, so he kept doing what he was the best at ; ignoring any complain.

If touch was not something Rin usually liked, it was different at this moment. He didn't know if it was because of the setting, the last conversation or the overall feeling of belonging and safety Bachira brought him — but it was there and the brush of fingers against his skin felt almost alright. It didn't burn or made him itch like usual. He still put his sunglasses on after a few minutes outside because he was getting an headache from the multiple stimulation around him — it wasn't much, but at least he knew he wouldn't go in a full meltdown in the middle of the bus.

The last walk between the bus stop and the aquarium was calmer. Bachira decided to point out every pigeon they'd see and to give them a name, while Rin was making sure to go in the right direction, thanks to Reo's message.

"No way," exclaimed Bachira, a few meters from their destination. The building was large and paint in an ocean blue, bold letters writing AQUARIUM, and then in little: come to see our fishes! They don't bite! (but do not put your hands in the water.) Rin could argue sharks wouldn't bite just because you'd stick out your hand in the water. He also thought about Kurona, wondered if he should send them a message about it — a way to be friendlier with him. Thank him for the shark plush (which was still very useful) by letting him talk about their favorite thing.

But his eyes fell on Bachira — who was almost jumping to the entrance — and Rin forgot about anything and anyone else. He followed them inside, putting his glasses back in his backpack and made a mental note to thanks Reo for the tip.

The whole place was in half-dark — even with the glass windows — but not in a way that would make Rin shiver by the lack of luminosity. It was perfectly soften, reflecting on the blue walls and the small fluorescent stickers. The staff welcomed them with big smiles and once they had their tickets, Bachira turned to him — still beaming.

"You actually listened!," and Rin's heart was against his throat, beating right there. He thought he could choke on it, but all that come from it was sweetness and it made him frown at himself.

He wanted to answer — Why wouldn't I? and You're worth listening to, after all, and I can't listen to a lot of people, but I would listen to you every day — instead he said ; "Of course."

The first room was large, made of mural aquariums to see multiple ray and turtle species, dancing and living in front of their eyes. Sometimes, Bachira would point out of a fish and decide to make tattoos of them — or maybe just a drawing. Maybe a painting, even. Or maybe— maybe a sculpture? Rin didn't even know Bachira could do so many things and he thought for himself Alright. I still have a lot to learn, and the perspective to learn more about Bachira made him feel lighter. The prospect of still having secrets to discover could keep the adrenaline high. As if Bachira couldn't — wouldn't — bore him even once in his life.

(It wasn't love and he knew it but— still. It was there. He wanted Bachira in his life. It wasn't painful to think about them. It wasn't hard to talk with them. They were made to be around each other and Rin was sure of it.)

"Sometimes I wish I was a fish," Bachira said out of the blue. They were in the jellyfish section, eyes on some moon jellies — not Rin's favorite, but they were still pretty and the light around their aquarium was purple-ish, making the whole room into a different mood Rin liked. "I want to discover all the secrets the oceans can have… All the things they hide from humans — all the places no one could reach because we're not made for it."

They turned to Rin and their smile was more melancholic — not upside down, but breaking on the curves. It didn't make Rin uncomfortable — surprised, mostly. He liked to know more of them, the sorrow of their existence with it. He wanted to know of Bachira and all their thoughts and feelings—

"If I was a fish, I wouldn't be afraid of opening the golden cage to run away."

Rin would have liked to dwell on this — answer something, anything, but Bachira beat him to it. They took his hand, guiding him to the next room and Rin's words died on his tongue. It was so easy to forget his brother and the expectations of everyone around him — so easy to fall into some sort of romantic scenery with Bachira. Rin knew they should talk about it, because it was what good adults would do, but he didn't want to make it go away. Somewhat, he was afraid all of this was a joke for Bachira — a fleeting moment in their lives instead of the maelstrom they would make bloom in Rin's head every time they would met. Maybe it was only Rin's idea, something he planted himself with his own hands instead of the hands of the Fates. It was truly terrifying, not knowing what Bachira was thinking of him.

Bachira couldn't stay in one place more than a few minutes and Rin followed silently behind every exclamations and changes in the path they would take — Bachira didn't think much about the little blue arrows on the floor, preferring the chaos of whatever they had in their mind. They stopped in front of the sharks and Bachira sat in front of the glass ; they walked through the anemones ; they held hands while watching the sea angels in a shadowed corner of the way too big room.

(Every time Rin would look at Bachira, his heart would stop in his chest before picking up another pace. This too, was terrifying. Rin never had a lot of friends and only wanted to have more with only one of them. It was new and scary in ways Rin never thought he'll live and maybe that was the thing — he couldn't explain anything and it was still there, looking and lurking and waiting. Rin didn't know if he should embrace it or put it aside.)

When Rin finally sat somewhere because his bad ankle started to hurt, Bachira followed him, still almost jumping in all directions. They would soon reach the end of the aquarium, where a small area to eat was — and the gift shop, but Rin tried to not think too much about it because he already known it'd be an hassle. Not having more time with Bachira, but people and thinking about gifts, and since it was the first time he actually went somewhere with someone else than his friends, he wanted to get them something too. He sighed, letting his back fall against the wall, closing his eyes.

"Are you hurt?," asked Bachira. When Rin blinked again, they were looking at him —wondering why Rin had not said anything about his pain. It wasn't like he was suffering or anything — it was more like an old ache, a soreness that would never go away. Barely an injury, only a past wound that lived on its own on his skin and between the muscles.

"Nothing important," but Bachira hummed with a tinge of disappointment and Rin rolled his eyes. Of course they'd want to know more about it. Why wouldn't they? "I hurt myself a few years ago. Was partially a professional soccer player and my ankle decided to fail me a week before the most important tournament of my life. I thought it was nothing at first, pushed through it because it was the only thing I ever knew and ended up with something too big to be repaired."

Rin shrugged. He didn't like dwell on his past, nor talk about it — most people would take pity on him, or look at him like some child who lost their parents at the market.

Bachira didn't look at them like this. They leaned in, touched Rin's wrist and then said ; "Let's play soccer, then. If your ankle will never be the same, then learn how to do it in another way. Being disabled doesn't mean you should stop doing what you love."

They beamed at him and suddenly the sun pierced through the roof — it was there only for Rin and no one else. "When my chronic illness decided to flare up the first times, I thought my life would end. I was fifteen and my life was made of art and suddenly it just felt out of reach. But my mother decided I just couldn't stop. Without pushing me, she still made it clear that she was there and art will never move away from me — a drop of paint on the front of my door, a blank canvas left innocently on the kitchen table, my favorite charcoal beside my daily milk glass…"

They hummed, eyes wandering in memories Rin couldn't follow them in — but Bachira was still holding his hand gently, and Rin didn't feel alone. He let them talk through it, ignoring the own pit in his stomach.

"When I picked up painting it was… hard as fuck, actually," and they let out a sad chuckle, too small for everything Bachira was. Rin tried to not reach out and hold them close — protect them from their own pain — but it was a stupid thought. It was stupid and tepid and Rin didn't say anything. "But I learned. I couldn't go back to what I was before, but it didn't mean I should stop it either. So I learned how to stop, and what aid I could use. I bought compression gloves and a cane for the very bad day, and I learned how to make art even with trembling hands."

They turned to Rin and all he could read in their eyes was how proud of themselves they were. Rin straightened up. "I won't say to you all this "you're not broken" bullshit, because you're in fact broken in so many levels — it doesn't mean you need to be fixed. At least, that what I know of myself, and the pain, and the monster. You can't go back to what you were before, alright — but does it mean you wanted to give up on something you liked, or was it just an excuse to run away from it?"

The words hit him — a brick thrown at his face without any warning. He wanted to say, Fuck you, and You're fucking lukewarm, and Thank you. Instead he said ; "Let's play soccer."

He wished to never forget the smile Bachira gave him.

They had to stop at a sport shop before heading to the nearest field. The shop was small, owned by one person hunching over the counter like it was the most annoying job on earth and talked to them with some sluggish voice that would drag every syllables. Rin could almost be pissed off, but they found the soccer ball and Bachira decided to pay for it before Rin could take his money — it made him roll his eyes and mumble under his breath, but Bachira seemed so happy that he didn't dare voice his thoughts.

At least, the sky was on their side — endless blue above them, without a cloud in sight. It made the sun hit their head directly, but they couldn't care less. At least, Rin couldn't care less. The first step on the field made all the memories run under his eyes — the first passes, his first goal, his first celebration. And then, slowly, it faded to show the never ending trainings, the sleepless nights, the counting of calories (he never fell but he was so, so close—)

It was overwhelming as much as— Rin wanted this. To remember. To be sure he'd never forget what created the first splinter in his perfect plan. The hammer hit to make everything shatter — but something was there before it. The will to live, mind fixated on a single goal, rushing euphoria every time he would score a goal, the bruised ribs from the hours of wearing trans tape — his brother. His brother was in every memory, every thought, in everything. Rin couldn't forget how Sae promised and then disappeared, but he also couldn't forget how Sae showed him how to play. He taught him how to survive and then handed down a reason to finally live. And maybe that was it — a piece of how Sae was still alive. (Sae didn't smile once since he came back. How much did he lose— what did he lose?)

"Are you chickening out?"

Rin's focus snapped. He turned his head to Bachira who was stretching meticulously, warming up their body to make sure to not hurt themselves (too much, at least. They both knew chronic pain would never go away and they'd both face the backlash of their soccer session, but they also both didn't care.)

"Fuck off," he snarled, beginning to stretch too.

Internally, he thanked his ability to hate jeans texture to a point putting one on for more than an hour was unbearable. The sweatpants he wore would be perfect to run and tackle Bachira — he'd have access to his whole body and movement without restrain. He wondered if Bachira's skirt would get in the way, but he decided against asking — if it would, Bachira would have say something. Probably.

He heard Bachira giggle at the insult, but they didn't add anything, deciding it was time for a few laps around the goals. Rin fell back in his own routine. It was a vestige of ruins he never thought he'd dig in again, but he was grateful for all the hours he spent perfecting his warm up. He was a bit out of shape — only running every morning wasn't enough to keep up how he was before, but it was still something so he didn't dwell on it and went back to his side to side hops.

By the time he was done, Bachira was waiting for him in the middle of the field, playing mindlessly with the ball at their feet. Rin placed himself in front of them and Bachira tilted their head with a grin on their face — not mischievous, but still playful.

"First to three?"

Rin only nodded. He took a better stance to intercept Bachira the moment they'd kick off and Bachira took it as a green light — only a small good luck! thrown to the wind and Rin bared his teeth. He didn't need luck. Winning was a whole process and he had everything in his mind.

If he didn't watch any soccer match for a few years, he still knew a lot about it — the tactics, the way people could move, the statistics. Everything came back to him the moment Bachira approached him. A waterfall of information in front of his eyes, maelstrom in his thoughts — but it was organized. Logical. Everything had its own place and Rin could read everything so easily. It wasn't like he never stopped, because he could feel the lack of training in his knees, but it was like he could grab the dream he let go off and watch it in its eyes. He could say — look at me, I am still here. I won't go away this time — but the dream looked like his brother. Rin thought — I always ran, but for what exactly? Soccer — or Sae's attention?

His therapist warned him about those kind of thoughts. One day, they said to him: You'll learn what was behind your dreams. Maybe the answer will surprise you, or maybe you'll know about it before reveling it to yourself. You say you're not good at reading yourself, but from what I gathered from our appointments, you're good at it. You just throw it aside because it doesn't please the picture you have of yourself or the life revolving around you. Rin never totally understood those words — how could he possibly know something and discard it? He was lost and confused and nothing was making sense.

Until now. He knew he liked soccer and the challenges within the field — he could lay down the anger in the pit of his stomach and transform it into something good. He also knew he started soccer thanks to his brother. He decided to go pro to see his brother again. Everything was revolving around Sae — but it wasn't a bad thing. Not entirely. He could make soccer his — entirely his. Not something pushed within his ribcage as proof of brother ship. He could share it with Sae again one day but… It was his.

And Bachira was good at what they were doing. Surprising but not entirely — Rin saw how they played with the ball a few minutes before starting the match, and he was certain Bachira already touched a soccer ball in the past. But now, seeing how free they were, butting against Rin every now and then, dribbling past him, laughing every time Rin would take back the ball… Rin couldn't be more sure that soccer was part of Bachira's life too in a way. It was hard battles over hard battles until Rin ran close enough to finally try to goal—

It was a perfect arc. Ball spinning beautifully in the air. The world went quiet for a few seconds and Rin took a deep breath, watching the ball slam against the net and touch the ground. It was just a few seconds stolen — not even a victory, only one goal — but it meant so much more. His ankle ached but the drum of adrenaline was more powerful, heard in his ear and felt everywhere in his body. He rolled his head to see the sky and it welcomed him in the endless blue of it, swallowing him whole. Bachira let him savor this moment and Rin could feel their eyes trailing on him. He didn't say anything about it.

"Let's score another one," said Bachira after a few more seconds.

Rin came back to the reality — the too hot sun, the grass under his shoes, the ball that needed to be fetch if they wanted to play again. He nodded again and dropped the ball to Bachira's feet.

"I won't go down without a fight, though," they beamed. Rin couldn't help the faint smile tucking his lips for half of a second, nor the way Bachira's eyes lightened up at the sight of it.

In the end, they played more than what they first said. They went until going to a 2-2 before taking a small break and Bachira kept nudging him playfully. You won't ask me where I learned all this? but Rin didn't really need to. Instead he answered Win, and I'll let you yap about it. It had been enough to make Bachira jump with a smile on their face and Rin bit back his own smile this time.

The last point went on and on — both of them were fierce beasts on the field and none of them wanted to lose. Rin didn't know what really drove him this deep into it, until he caught Bachira's smile while playing. They weren't just playing, they were having fun and it almost made Rin stop in his tracks. He was having fun too. It wasn't a desire to win and crush his rival — he wanted to win, but he also wanted this moment to stretch again and again because Bachira was there. It threw his heart off a cliff and Rin couldn't do anything else than watch it fall in Bachira's hands. (It wasn't love but— the same way Rin let Reo and Hiori took care of his heart, Rin wanted to take a bit of it and give it to Bachira. Whisper Say, can you love it? and maybe— maybe Bachira would take a bit of their own heart and gift it to Rin.)

Rin won the match and it tasted sweet on his tongue. Bachira watched the ball hit the net and, with a laugh, fell to the ground. Rin followed him even if it meant having to wash his clothes when he'd get home. They stayed in this comforting silence while the minutes dragged on, both catching their breaths. Clouds were finally dancing in the sky, hiding the sun from time to time. Their shoulders kept brushing against each other. Their breath fell down at the same rhythm. Rin turned his head to watch Bachira — they had sweat falling from their forehead down their jaw, their hair more disheveled than usual, their eyes couldn't stay open under the light and the fatigue. Rin reached out and for once, he wasn't totally gross out by the skin under his fingers.

"I need to ask you something," he said and his voice was hoarse. He wrinkled his nose and Bachira chuckled when their eyes met. They still nodded, turning their whole body toward Rin. His fingers stayed on their cheek and none of them made a move to put it away.

"Come with me at my brother's wedding."

Bachira blinked at him a few times — they laughed and it resonated in the sky and against the ground, right in Rin's heart.

"Sure," they answered and their voice was soft. Rin closed his eyes, and Bachira's fingers find his.

"Thank you," Rin whispered to the wind.

Bachira smiled. Their legs found Rin's. They stayed intertwined until night fell on them and it was still not enough. Rin wanted to open his chest and let Bachira take everything they wanted. (Bachira would protect everything and Rin knew it.)

Chapter Text

Sae fell into a routine and Rin noticed it only because the same package of cereal bars were sitting on the same cupboard. Sae would take one with a fruit and a coffee then get on with his life. He would go outside with a sport outfit on — an old short Rin never saw before and a thin t-shirt that would stick to his skin. Sometimes, he would put a jacket on and Rin would remember Sae had been wearing the same the only time they saw each other again. It was a gift, the few yens his parents gave to Rin for birthdays or celebrations and Rin used them all on two jackets with complementary colors. Back then, he liked to think they would never be apart, and if they were they just needed to wear this jacket and it'll be alright again. (Sae wore it the day he spat poison — Rin clenched at his all night, torn between burning it and keeping it close forever. It was still siting in a corner of his room.)

Sae would come back in the evening. Most of the time, he would have already eaten and would go to his room as silently as he could. Rin would listen to the creaking of the stairs and the floorboard as he stepped near his door and then disappear in the other room. (Rin would always leave a part of his dinner to Sae — and if he never saw him eat, he could see the cleaned dishes on the kitchen sink every morning. The only day Rin forgot to leave a plate for Sae, he heard him turn and turn in the kitchen like a confused puppy and his steps were more careful than the night before. In the morning, Rin found a note saying Do not forget to eat and Rin kept it in a corner of his room.)

Still, Rin came to a single conclusion — when Sae wasn't there he was with the person he wanted to marry. Small details lead to this theory ; the faint scent of another one's cologne (Rin knew it was not Sae's, his bottle was sitting in the bathroom and he had been using the same since they were teenagers), the small traces of black lipstick on the edge of his clothes (he really didn't want to know, but they had the silent agreement to do the laundry in turn so Rin couldn't miss it), the way Sae would look at his phone and get ready to leave in the few minutes following that (he didn't see it on purpose, simply an observation on all the breakfast they shared in the last month.)

A long time ago, Hiori told him about friends that would take another path than you. He was talking about his old best friend — someone called Tabito Karasu, lost between friendship and love, the awakening of feelings Hiori thought he'd never feel and all the guilt he had to love another man. They had been so close that Hiori's voice would waver every time he was talking about him. When Rin asked him why they weren't friends anymore, Hiori smiled at him and said Time. We didn't fight or anything. One day we were side by side and the day after we grew apart. Rin still remembered when Hiori found him back on a social media — Karasu was now a traveler, and seemed to live a perfect life. Hiori looked at the pictures with a melancholic glance and said, in the most quiet voice Rin heard from him, I am happy for him.

Rin never understood this pain. He never had friends to grow apart from. His parents had never been there and Rin didn't want them to anyway. And Sae— Sae was different. Rin had this picture of him, and it wouldn't budge in any way. It was there — a statue to the past, unmoving and made to be hated.

The reality was something else. Lost in his own rage and grief, Rin didn't see it. He didn't even think about it. But it was there and it couldn't be taken back — the years where they grew apart. The secrets they shared were nothing now and those left hadn't be said to Rin. They weren't there for each other's graduation. They weren't there for the panic of the first crushes or kisses. They weren't there for the victories in their lives, or the defeats, or the times where everything was too loud and too much. Sae wasn't there for Rin when he fell from grace and lost football — Rin wasn't there when Sae came back from Spain changed.

It hit Rin in the face at five in the morning while he was cooking breakfast and didn't know what Sae liked. He wanted to make some scrambled eggs the way Sae would have eat them when they were young— but did they still like it this way? Rin stared at the eggs sizzling in the pan without moving, even when he knew the eggs were good enough. He snapped out of it because it began to taste like burn on his lips and he moved to throw everything away. When he turned, Sae looked at him with a raised eyebrow and Rin scowled at him.

They didn't talk. Sae was unaware of the failed try and walked to take his cereal bar. Rin watched him move like he wasn't totally there in the room, until Sae turned to him again. They didn't move — they looked at each other like they were strangers in each other's life. Rin was the first one to look away because he had never been strong, especially when it came to his brother. Lukewarm, his mind whispered to him.

"Are you sick?"

"Why do you care?," Rin snarled, turning to take another egg off the fridge. He still needed to eat and Sae couldn't know he was having a breakdown over their lost brotherhood.

Sae looked at him in silence, ignoring his phone lightening up next to him. Instead, he took it to put it in his pocket and Rin almost raised an eyebrow in response to that.

"Wouldn't want to fall sick because of you."

Rin rolled his eyes. He was ready to answer something out of his heavy heart when Sae added, "and I can buy you medicine."

Kindness. In a twisted way, because they both knew Rin had everything at home. He hated being sick, so he always had a stock of medicine in case he would feel down. Sae couldn't have missed it — and yet. It was an open hand, and Rin wanted to take it.

"I am not," he mumbled under his breath. The eggs looked good. He added some spices, rolled them on top of some rice and sat at the table.

Silence fell over. Sae went back to his fruit while Rin stared at the rice in his bowl. He was running late for his morning jog and he needed to be at Bachira's shop at ten. Sae did not stop staring at Rin. Maybe he was waiting for something, making sure that Rin wasn't lying about being sick. Rin wrinkled his nose.

"We should talk," Rin said and it felt like an hammer hit his tongue. He gulped down the uneasy feeling and frowned at himself. "Tonight."

Sae didn't answer instantly and Rin almost ran away. I am not a coward anymore, he told himself and his eyes stayed locked in Sae's, waiting for an answer. Rin didn't know what he imagined — because Sae simply nodded and said "I will be there," stood up and took his bag. He looked at Rin over his shoulder, tilted his head and said; "You grew," and Rin didn't find anything to say to this.

He didn't watch Sae walk down the small path outside the house. Instead he stood up to wash his breakfast and headed up outside for his jog. On any other day, he would have already be home by then to study instead of barely just outside — but it didn't stress him out, for once. His mind was still clouded, giving him a faint headache but he knew it'd go away within the next hours, well before the moment he'd need to be at Bachira's shop.

Still— if he wasn't anxious, it had been hard to go through the morning. As is the world was sluggish itself, struggling against muddy water. It wasn't just his mind replaying the conversation he had with Sae ; his body was also failing him. His ankle was aching, like a reminder of the date he had with Bachira a few days ago and his fingers kept creaking at every movement he would make. It was nothing in itself, but it made his patience run thin. Lights and noises were uncomfortable to the point he put his sunglasses inside his house and refused to take a shower — the idea of undressing, going under the water, surviving the temperature, dressing up again looked like an obstacle Rin wasn't sure he could survive at this moment. He still managed to change by staying under his blanket — not seeing his body helped, at least.

The pressure of the cloth against his ribs helped with the drowning sensation — Rin didn't even know he was struggling this much to catch his breath until he took a deep one, making his bones rattle against each other. When he finally managed to finishing dressing himself up, headphones on his ears and sunglasses still on in his dark room, he understood he was having a whole meltdown. The world was just… too much. And if he wasn't worried about the change in his schedule, the idea of finally confronting his brother made fear creeping in on his lungs. The same fear he felt when he was younger and alone and his parents knew nothing else than disappointment in him. The same fear he felt when his brother spat those words to his face.

Before he could think more about all this, his alarm set off, making him jump. At least he was ready. He just needed to go through the fact he needed to take a bus and then walk under the sun. He needed to mask everything he could feel or think. He was good at this. He knew how to do it. He didn't spend years and years analyzing everyone around him to fail now. He took everything he needed — money, papers, his bag, his phone, his keys, (the plush Kurona got him so he could fiddle with it.)

On his way to the shop, he decided it was a good moment to send a message to Reo and Hiori. It wasn't much — come to Lavinho's tattoo parlor at 1 pm. Bachira told him he needed a few hours to finish the tattoo and he hoped three was enough. He also hoped his friends wouldn't panic too much, but that was something he didn't have control on. (But to ease his mind, he still added I am fine, hoping it would at least make Reo panic less. Or maybe himself. He didn't know.)

He sent a message to Bachira before stepping down from the bus, making sure he wasn't late, and before he could see any answer from any of his friends, he turned off his phone. They'll be fine.

The shop didn't change much since he last came. Some posters changed, but it was nothing much and Rin didn't notice it directly. No, he instead noticed the way Bachira was looking directly at him, stopping themselves from the conversation they were having with Otoya and smiled like Rin was the most beautiful thing they never saw.

"Rin-chan!," they exclaimed and Rin was almost taken aback by the sing-song voice.

If he knew Bachira was important to him, he never thought he could even be important to Bachira too.

"Come here! I already finished to prepare the room!"

Rin only nodded, refusing to wave at Otoya because he was looking at him with a stupid grin Rin didn't like, so he ignored him altogether and followed Bachira in their workshop. When the door closed behind them, Bachira instantly put some calm music and invited Rin to lay down. They dimmed the lights and adjusted the rotatory lamp in an angle they could work with without making Rin squint uncomfortably.

"If it is too uncomfortable or need a moment alone at any moment, don't hesitate, alright?"

Rin nodded again without answering. Words were too complicated and his tongue was heavy against his teeth. Bachira must have understood, because they didn't push and began to work on his leg without another word for long minutes.

"I just need you to look at your leg and the tablet a moment, if that's alright? It's just so be sure the colors are good enough for you."

The light of the tablet made Rin scrunching his face for a second — but it was more pleasant than earlier in the morning. He needed only a few moments to get his eyes used to it, finally looking at the splashes of color around the owl on his leg. He already saw the art — but it still surprised him. It was beautiful, and in a few hours it'll be totally inked on his skin. Unmovable. It'll suffer the passing of time, but the memories will still be the same and he'll still find it beautiful, even when he'll be too old to remember all the details of why he got this tattooed exactly.

He laid back down, and whispered "Perfect." He was vulnerable and tired and he put back his sunglasses as soon as he could, but he felt safe. Bachira made him feel safe. (If he didn't have such hard time with feelings, maybe he could have teared up. Maybe even cry. Instead, he let Bachira's hands work on his skin and the music calm the beating of his heart.)

He fell asleep on the first hour of Bachira's work and they gently mock him for it.

"I need a break. I feel my wrists screaming at me," they said after taking the necessary precautions for the tattoo. "Glad to know you feel comfortable enough to fell asleep here!"

Rin rolled his eyes, mumbled uselessly under his breath and followed Bachira outside the shop. Otoya wasn't there and Bachira didn't smoke, but Rin knew they liked to take a breath of fresh air every now and then when they were working — it was easy to stretch when no one was looking at them and it was less suffocating to be outside instead of inside.

With the nap he took, the headache went away. The water he drank made the last grains of it disappear. The sun was bearable, so he took off his glasses and sighed when the world found back its colors.

"You whispered your brother's name in your sleep."

Rin frowned. It wasn't the first time someone say he talked in his sleep — but it was embarrassing to know he did it while taking a nap, in a middle of a tattoo, in front of Bachira. He closed his eyes, wrinkled his nose. He knew what was the silent question, and he took a deep breath.

"I asked to talk with him tonight."

Bachira turned to him with a tilt of their head. They still looked like a curious cat, no matter how many time they did it.

"Finally trying to understand what happened?"

Rin nodded. He looked at the sky between the buildings. The breeze was almost pleasant, if not a bit cold and it made Rin shiver for a second.

"No matter what I want, I need to know what he was thinking," he said, eyes drifting on his hands. He could grasp the idea of a life with his brother back — but even without him, Rin knew he could live. He had Hiori and Reo, his therapist, and Bachira. He wasn't alone and probably will never be ever again — if anything because he doubted that the strays will go away even if he stopped give them food.

"Do you need someone to be with you?"

Rin shook his head. He thought about it — but it was too intimate. Too personal. He needed this time to be Sae and his. If he needed anyone after that, he just needed to send a message (or call, in the worst case.)

Silence fell over them. Rin watched Bachira take their last stretches, biting back a yawn. They smiled at them when they opened the shop door again.

"My friends will come around the end of the tattoo."

Bachira hummed, patting the chair for Rin to lay back again. "I'll call them in for the reveal, then!"

Rin thanked them in a whisper and closed his eyes again. He wondered how his friends were going to react.

If it was inevitably a good idea to invite his friends to see his new tattoo, he almost forgot how loud they were. Rin had time to catch them up on the whole situation — either Bachira or Sae — but it had still been a few weeks since they had seen each others last. It was also the first time they met Bachira and Rin noticed it the moment Hiori and Reo stepped in the room and Hiori smiled at Rin. It wasn't his usual soft and sweet smile — no. It was the smile he gave to people before doing something to push them. Rin frowned.

"So you are the Bachira Meguru Rin talk so much about."

Of course. Rin rolled his eyes and Reo closed the door behind them. Bachira flashed a smile.

"I can't believe you talked this much about me, Rin-chan!"

Hiori raised an eyebrow at Rin. Reo turned to Bachira, mouthing Rin-chan? silently. Rin knew he fucked up.

Still, Hiori didn't say anything about it, looking around. The walls were covered with some of Bachira's drawings, posters and papers about how to take care of a tattoo. Rin read it five times within the last hours.

"So…," began Reo, sitting on a stool Bachira gave him. "Why are we here for?"

Rin saw his eyes fall on the shark plush and Rin decided it was a good time to put it back in his bag. He stood up to place himself in front of the mirror and he noticed Hiori's eyes looking at him again. Rin sighed, holding the towel Bachira gave him around his waist.

"I didn't saw the final," Rin said, trying to ignore how Reo leaned in curiously. "I wanted to be with you to discover it."

He didn't wait for Hiori's silent question or for Bachira to add something. He let go of the towel and almost stumble over himself when he can finally admire the drawing on his leg.

It was exactly like he imagined it. He knew it wasn't really the final — it'll move a bit within the next weeks, stop bleeding and the colors will settle down — but it was still beautiful. The owl took most of the place, piercing eyes looking in front of them. The details on their wings were beautifully executed too, and the watercolor-like inking made the whole piece stand out.

And the ice blue and purple flowers surrounding it were as beautiful.

If Rin hesitated for a long time before asking Bachira to put the flowers too, he told himself that worst case scenarios it was only flowers. He'll always know they were here for Hiori and Reo, but it didn't mean it'll be painful if one day they drift apart. It would be memories inked on his skin for ever and it would stay here because no matter what happen — he would love them.

The room stay silent for a long time. Or maybe it was only a few seconds — but it felt a lot for Rin. Then he saw Reo moving — he saw the tears before he heard them. He heard Hiori laugh — small and soft, almost shy. Rin tried to not panic, but before he could say anything, Reo was taking his hand, looking the details of the tattoo in the mirror. Hiori took the other one, seemingly still a bit shocked by the reveal. Rin didn't push them.

"I covered some of my scars with the tattoo," Rin murmured, making them both look at him. Reo was still crying, and Rin was sure if he looked at Hiori, he would be at nothing to cry too. "Both of them helped with my traumas and to heal from both physical and metaphorical wounds."

Hiori was the first one to reach out for Rin's face. The smile tugging his lips was so bright it could illuminate the room by itself.

"I hope you know you did the same so many times, Rin."

Rin knew — technically. It was something else to hear it. To know he had been a lifeline for them the same way they were for him.

"I can't believe it's been five years since we met each other," whispered Reo, eyes drifting somewhere else. "You saw everything of me — me rebelling, my love for Seishiro blooming, me falling from all the delusions I fed myself…"

He laughed and it was forced — and still, a ting of something more genuine was laying there. "And I can't believe I saw so much of you too. I have still hard time imagining you going to Sae wedding in a few months. But I am so— so proud of you, Rin."

Reo moved, finally getting back on his feet. Rin wasn't sure he ever saw something so peaceful in Reo's eyes. If he had been more serene since they finally worked everything out with Nagi, this expression never had been for him. It didn't surprise him, not really, so he tried to soak in this moment and learn every of those minutes to place it against his heart and never let it go.

"I really have the best friends I could dream off."

Rin looked at them in the mirror — the intertwined hands, the smiles, Hiori's head on his shoulder and Reo so close to him — and he thought, I hope we'll stay friends forever.

If Rin thoughts that showing the tattoo was the hard part, he was wrong.

Hiori and Reo decided they wanted to take a moment to catch up with Rin at the usual coffee shop — and with Rin being the last client of the day, Bachira decided to join them. Something about finally meeting the friends Rin would talk about (it made Hiori leans in with a grin, raised eyebrow; Because you talk about me? and Rin ignored him.)

The walk to it had been quite calm — Reo was asking questions to Rin about an article they both read, and Hiori was deep diving into the lore of Night in the Woods with Bachira, who kept nodding their head and ask things to a delighted Hiori. So far, it was everything Rin imagined of Bachira meeting his friends — but he knew it was only the first twenty minutes, and if first impressions were important, he knew he needed to be prepared to any tease.

He didn't have to wait for long. It was all Nagi's fault, really. Rin knew he was working today — but he kind of forgot about it after the emotional moment they shared. Reo almost jumped on him to kiss him in front of everyone and Rin almost melted out of embarrassment. He was used to Reo hand feeding Nagi ; to Nagi piggy riding Reo ; to Reo spending his time touching Nagi and Nagi touching Reo in return every time they could. But kisses? The overly affectionate caress on the cheek? Nagi nuzzling in the crook of Reo's neck instead of taking orders? Rin could die here, wrinkling his nose in some sort of disgust.

He met Bachira's eyes — who was tilting their head to one side, a mysteriously cruel smile on their lips.

"Oh, Rin-chan — wouldn't you kiss me like this?"

Maybe Rin would really melt. Hiori caught on the conversation and he leaned in to include himself in it.

"It doesn't surprise me that Rin-chan hasn't kissed you yet."

Rin rolled his eyes. Bachira knew of Hiori and the relation they had. In turn, Rin knew Bachira had a relation with Isagi a few years ago too, but stayed friends. (He also knew it broke Bachira's heart, but it was all for the best and they didn't resent Isagi once.)

"It's not like I am waiting for it," Bachira said with a small laugh. Even Reo and Nagi were watching now and Rin almost turned his heels out of the shop. "Kissing is good once every three months. But Reo and Nagi were just so cute."

And the conversation shifted from here. Reo praised himself — then Nagi, which made Rin silently gag. Hiori asked some personal questions in the most innocent way, making Reo blush and if it wasn't the first time Rin saw Reo flustered, it was the first time he saw him take Nagi's hand so easily.

In return, he took Bachira hand and they squeezed it gently in silence.

When they sat, Rin finally gave them the gifts he bought at the aquarium — a lemon shark plush for Kurona, a mandarin dragonet for Reo and an angel bunny for Hiori. It was nothing really, but Reo teared up again and Hiori sent a message to Kurona — the answer was aww, and then, it'll go with my collection! thanks thanks! with some small shark emojis and Rin was satisfied with the answer.

He finally relaxed in the chair. The tattoo didn't hurt much (but maybe because he was too high with his own feelings to feel anything) and his hand didn't quit Bachira's.

Of course his friends and Bachira decided to team up to tease him. It had been easy — Hiori was a master of pushing people's buttons with the most pure face so no one could be mad at him.

Reo also had a lot between his fingers — pictures of younger Rin, with shaved hair or split one. Pictures of the day he came at Reo's house with mud all over him because he fell in Reo's aisle. Pictures of him half-asleep after his top surgery. He even had a screenshot of a conversation they had where Rin wrote I luv yuiiiiooou s o much Reo. ill love you more than se ishiro. or no. forget this and Rin decided it was time to take Reo's phone so he wouldn't share more embarrassing moments. Hiori laughed in his hot chocolate and Rin nudged him under the table — perfectly avoided by Hiori.

"Aside all of this," Reo said after everyone fell from the highs of laughing. "I am glad he met you, Bachira."

Rin rolled his eyes for good measure. Bachira squeezed his hand like they were surprised, slightly tilting their head. From here, Rin could see their cheeks slowly fading in a more pink-ish hue — which was not something that happened a lot. Rin took this image against his heart and didn't let go.

"I agree. Rin seems happier since he met you."

Bachira looked at him but Rin didn't move. His eyes were trailing between Reo and Hiori, not knowing what to feel or say. Reo and Hiori always had been protective of him — if they weren't controlling, they always said to him when they had a bad feeling about someone. In return, Rin trusted them and did the same — and more often then not, they were right about it. For them to be so open with their appreciation for Bachira was almost odd — surprising at least.

"I am glad," Bachira said, a smile on their lips. Their voice were softer than usual — and Rin squeezed their hand again. "But I have to say that Rin made me as happy."

Reo was the first one to smile at Bachira. Hiori followed, reaching over the table to take Bachira's free hand. He said; "I am not surprised. Rin is a good person," and Rin bit back the cynical comment he wanted to make. Bachira nodded with a gentle chuckle, their eyes finding Rin's face.

"He is."

A few years ago, he would have never dreamed of this — people understanding him. People who would be there for him no matter what — no matter the thunderstorms and the sunny days. They went back on teasing him, Reo hovering over the table with whispers as if he was trying to be discreet and Hiori giving more and more details on things that could interest their tease. Rin wouldn't ask for anything else.

When they finally move on from bothering him, he closed his eyes to look at his life and thought, I want to keep on living.

Rin needed to go home. His brother was probably waiting for him, and he didn't want to stress himself over this fact. Still, he hugged his friends goodbye — but Bachira lingered.

"You said you wanted to take some take out, right? I'll come with you."

Rin didn't want to let go of their hand anyway.

Here too, the walk had been quiet. They were both lost in their thoughts, eyes trailing on the sky instead of each other. Rin couldn't stop thinking about the conversation — but also the sketchbook in his bag. He knew he needed to give the last surprise of the day soon — because he didn't forget. He thought about it day and night — in front of an horror movie, in between two studies, in front of the turtles. He drew every time he could, keeping note on everything he could talk with Bachira. Of things that could represent them — not their relationship, because it could have been weird. If they both trusted each other, loving each other in their own ways, it was still a new relationship. Rin didn't want to burn bridges.

"You know," Rin said, waiting for their order to be prepared. "The first time I saw you I thought you were a Sun. Then an angel. Then both."

Bachira raised an eyebrow, their eternal tilt of head punctuating their silent question. "You won't make me say anything else about it."

It made Bachira laugh and Rin hoped his ears wasn't too red. He could feel the warmth creeping in his neck but he ignored it, taking the ripped page off his sketchbook.

An opened golden cage. The memories of a monster lurking behind the bars. Angel's wings decorating the heart left inside. Watercolor splashed around. It was everything Rin could have drawn — and everything Bachira showed of themselves.

Bachira took the drawing in their hands, fingers tracing the strokes, and Rin didn't dare move. He was feeling better than the morning, but it was still weird inside his head — clouded with doubts he never thought he would ever have. Bachira looked at him, and their smile was so warm Rin almost forgot that the night was falling over them.

"It's beautiful," and Rin could hear how genuine they were. He relaxed, and Bachira took his hand again. "Thank you."

Their lips brushed against Rin's knuckles. They couldn't stop smiling and Rin couldn't stop looking at how beautiful they were at this moment. Rin always thought Reo just too much in love with Nagi when he was saying he couldn't rip off his eyes from him sometimes, but Rin knew it wasn't stupid anymore. Because he couldn't stop thinking — soon, my drawing will be eternally inked on Bachira's body, and then, their body are half a canvas and I wonder if I could draw on them more, and then, if I could kiss anyone, it would be them.

He didn't, because he knew they didn't need this for their relationship. They both knew how dear they were for each other and sometimes— it was enough. For them, it was enough. The drawings spoke more than any word or romantic gesture. A few years ago, Rin would have sneered how stupid he was for falling like this ; to attach his heart to someone else's the way he did with Bachira. People couldn't go inside the ivory tower Rin meticulously built with his own hands.

And yet— yet, Hiori and Reo were there. Yet, Bachira managed to find their way without Rin showing them anything. And now that they were there, Rin had no desire to let them go away.

Bachira leaned in again. Their lips were smooth and warm against Rin's cheek. It was only a fleeting moment — the brush of two bodies against each other, breathes mixed for a second. When Rin finally looked at Bachira, he couldn't ignore his own burning cheeks — but he hid his embarrassment by taking his order. (He didn't hide the smile on his lips.)

Bachira squeezed his hand again and Rin thought, I'll thanks the Fates for letting me opening my heart to you.

Chapter Text

It was surprising. Routine always meant something you couldn't move or change. Rin liked it — and when something was out of schedule, or unexpected, he would feel so bad he needed to stop everything he was doing. On the good days, he could think about a solution to the change, breathe through his nose and wait to be home to finally let go of every dread he felt. On the more neutral one, he would pick the inside of his cheek until it hurts and play with one of his stimtoys. And on the bad days, he would roll himself on the floor and hit his head against the ground, hoping his head would split open and let the maelstrom inside him go away.

Sae had been the first one to deal with one of his breakdown. Back then, he was seven and he didn't know anything about why the world seemed to be tilted in a way he couldn't understand. His parents would yell at him every time he did something. His classmates would try to pick a fight with him every day. His teachers said nothing about the insults of the others, but would always punish Rin when he would defend himself — biting his bullies, hoping to break the skin even if it never worked. Some people would say he was special, or that he had different needs. Most of the time, people wouldn't waste their time trying to be gentle with him — they would look at him and say he is a monster. (Maybe he was. Maybe he still was. But being a monster meant he had the chance to met Reo, Hiori and Bachira. Monsters always stuck together.)

Sae never done any of this. The first time Rin bashed his head against a wall, Sae stayed close, giving a pillow for Rin to hit in it, took care of the wounds he could have made to himself and kissed his forehead with such kindness Rin forgot how to breathe for an instant. With time, Sae helped him through a lot of those moments — they would never talk about it, but he knew how to react to any of them. (Now that he was an adult, Rin wondered if Sae was the same as him. Was he a monster too? One of those broken toy who where just trying to survive in a world not meant for them?)

Still, Sae always made sure to do his best and not upset Rin. If change needed to be made, he would always come with a solution ready. When it wouldn't work, he would still stay at Rin's side. But when it was only the two of them — Sae always made a perfect schedule for the sake of them both.

It didn't surprise Rin to see Sae waiting for him in the kitchen. It had been so many years since they talked, and still Sae was meticulous on how to act with his brother — it was another step in his direction and Rin couldn't really ignore it anymore.

He settled the take-out on the table, sitting in front of Sae in silence. For a moment, the only noise that came from them was the sound of paper and the carton bowl put down. Rin knew he was making Sae wait a bit more — but after all those years what was a few minutes?

"Tried to remember your order," but Rin was lying. He remembered it perfectly. He didn't even have to think. "Made sure to ask for extra salted seaweed side dish."

Sae looked at him with an indescribable expression — blank eyes but the edge of his lips almost tugging up in a smile for a split seconds, so easily to miss that Rin wasn't sure about what he saw. He still reached out for his chopsticks with a "Thanks" exhaled. Rin tried to not be surprised too much, and answered a "Whatever," which could mean anything and looked away from his brother.

They ate in silence and Rin wasn't sure why. He had so much to say — so many questions that needed answers. So many things left unsaid by the years of running away. So many words he only told his therapist but were meant for Sae. So many pain and wounds and bits of his open hearts were lying everywhere in him, plaguing his mind and the way he acted every day — relics of another time where they were still close and mixing together. Mimics and smiles ; routines and tears; they bathed in each other's existence for so long that Rin forgot he could be his own person. (He wondered— was Sae looking in his mirror and tracing the same traits of his body, saying to himself you're no one else than your brother and the remnants of parents you despite so much. and yet you're skin and muscles and blood and you could be yours, entirely yours ; and maybe he shared this dream with the person he wanted to marry.)

And yet— nothing came. It wasn't like it was stuck somewhere and Rin needed to take his fingers deep down his throat to search what he meant to say. No — it was there, looping against his tongue, dancing under his eyes. He was so close.

Rin didn't want to let his heart sink into his rage. He remembered his therapist and the way his friends had to pick it right up. He remembered the strays he had to feed every day at the back of his house. He remembered the trainings and the first tine he picked up a pencil, his ankle still unusable. He remembered the tremors in his hands and the first wobbly stroked on paper. He remembered crumble and wanting to get rid of his own skin.

But he also remembered how, long ago, Sae was the one who did all that. Pick up all the pieces of him every time Rin would fall on himself ; feed all the cats on their street ; stand up against his parents ; the training and the first time Rin saw him making himself throw up in the toilets. He watched the first official match Sae played in Spain and how he lost (Rin remembers his brother ignoring all his messages and calls. He was certain to have seen him cry in the pixilated picture given by the television.)

So when he finally opened his mouth, Rin said; "I think I hate you."

And Sae answered, with a voice that dropped lower with time ; with the same tone that soothed Rin long ago, even if everyone would hear it as cold and heartless; "I know."

They looked at each other, their empty bowls sitting in front of them. Sae stood up and went to turn on the light of the kitchen, because night was setting itself around them and they would be soon be in the dark. (Like Rin was when Sae—)

"Why did you abandon me?"

The question was childish. If anything — it was the Rin on his knees, crying and begging for his brother to come back who asked it. Rin could give this to the child he was ; an answer no one else could give. Sae took his time, eyes unwavering from Rin's face, like he was searching for his words. So Rin said; "Don't try to sugarcoat it. Be honest."

Sae sighed, running an hand in his perfect hair and decided he didn't want to be perfect anymore ; he made a mess of it, half bangs falling on his forehead. Something alive. Rin didn't move.

"I could say it wasn't my intention, but truth was I didn't have the shoulders. After I lost and saw the reality out there — I decided the best choice I had was to choose myself."

Rin blinked. The answer was simple. A bit heartless if anything — but then, he remembered Sae wasn't the monster Rin thought he was. An human, with all the flaw that could come with it. So he nodded, gulping down the lump in his throat. Understanding didn't mean forgive — didn't mean it didn't hurt either.

"Was it? The right choice?"

This time, Sae didn't answer. He didn't look away either. He said; "When I decided to stop football, I thought you'd be more upset with me. But you already stopped sending me messages and I didn't know what you were thinking."

What were you thinking?, Rin almost asked. All those messages left unanswered — why? but he knew he wouldn't have an answer.

"I didn't have anything else to say after the last fit of rage I had."

He remembered the messages he sent. I hate you. I wish I never had a brother, and he remembered how he stopped himself to sent I am glad you lost your first match because he didn't want to be cruel like this.

"What do you really want to ask, Rin?"

It made him freeze. Think for an instant — out of all the things he wanted to ask, what was the real question? Maybe— about the words Sae spat down so many years ago. About the abuse — the silence and the screams and the expectations. About the shared childhood. About—

"Were you happy? When you turned your back and decided to walk alone— were you happy?"

The question threw off Sae. Rin noticed it in the way his knuckles turned white, nails digging in the palm of his hands for a second. In the way his eyes flashed with something else than indifference. In the way his body tensed like he was ready to take a hit. In the way— he seemed human. Not the god child Rin erected ; not the monster Rin made in his mind ; not the nothingness left in his heart. Sae was nothing else than an adult who lived and survived — a brother who had to chose between his own survival and his brother.

If Sae gained back his composure, his voice still faltered.

"I could have. But I wasn't."

Rin knew what was left unsaid. In everything I looked, you were there. In everything I wanted to forget, the world kept make me remember. Because Rin lived the same. All those years— lost to memories of moments they could have lived together. (One day, Reo told him ; I feel like I lost all those years loving Seishiro while I had nothing in return. But if I can be honest… I think that's why I love him this much. I kept fighting. Like I keep fighting for you every time you want to slow down or stop. Like I keep fighting for Hiori every time he hesitate. Like I keep fighting for myself. I fight for something — and if at the end of the journey I have nothing, so be it. I'll be sad and heartbroken, but I would have try at least. Rin didn't understand a lot back then — too young, too enraged — but now, it was words he kept near his heart.)

"I can't be your best man," Rin said, teal against teal. "But I will come."

It didn't seem to surprise Sae. Merely an acknowledgement — the twitch of his lips, his hands searching to hold themselves, the light nod he gave. It wasn't a fatality — the consequences of actions made many years ago ; the forgiveness waiting at the edge of things they would never say. Sae was still his whole world, someone that shaped him everything he could have liked and lived, but Rin was also his. He was taking back those pieces left in the hands of people he couldn't trust anymore and was making patchwork of his heart — Reo and Hiori let themselves in a long time ago, but Rin could also feel the colors left by Kurona and his therapist, by the late conversations on online forum with strangers he'd never see again, by this vent session he had with a classmate over equations about how families could suck, by the golden cage Bachira mentioned. Bachira was everywhere on his heart now — not overlapping but fitting between the points sewn by hands.

Sae's prints were still everywhere, colors faded and unsure of themselves. It was time Rin let his brother put some more cloth inside him. He'd never be without him, but Rin wanted to learn all of those new things with Sae. Make sure he would not forget his favorite order or favorite color. Make sure he would not forget which products he uses for his laundry or the brand of his shoes.

Sae looked up and Rin saw the brother he had been and will always be.

"You managed to survive," Sae said after a while and Rin raised an eyebrow. "You said you'd die without me."

Rin remembered. In the too many messaged he sent after the fateful night, he had written this. He cringed at his own words, wrinkling his nose — it made Sae's lips twitch again and Rin was sure he was holding back a smile.

"Of course I did."

"Didn't doubt it."

Silence fell back for a moment — looking at each other. Years passed on Sae's face and Rin wondered if it passed on his own body too. Probably. Rin decided to stand up and make tea and Sae used this time to answer a message — Rin caught the moment Sae's eyes lightened up for a second before he turned it off again.

"Our parents called me when you cut off contact with them."

The kettle stayed in the air for a second. Rin saw it tremble before he could feel his hand, so he put it back down, the empty cups goading at him. That was it — the heart leaping in his throat, nausea coming against his teeth, rage pushing his eyes close. He took a deep breath, counted until five, exhaled as slowly. He could feel Sae's eyes on him, balancing between continuing and leaving this at it. It would have been torture — to have this piece of information but not the meaning behind. He made a sign for Sae to continue and he heard him clear his throat like he was announcing the death of someone they loved.

"Before I went to Spain, I made them promise to take care of you," he sighed. Rin couldn't see him, but he imagined the eyes looking at nothing and his hands clasped against each other. It made the nausea spread on his tongue and he almost bent over the sink.

"They didn't. Blamed me for you going away and being a failure. Being too much. Too different. Then they left me because they couldn't bear seeing my face and I ended up alone."

Sae hummed. Rin felt the anger settle between his veins. "They blamed me too. Said it was my fault if you didn't want to talk to them. Dad even came to Spain to humiliate me in front of my team."

Rin turned around. Sae hadn't changed since he got up to make tea — straight on his chair, hair messy on his forehead, clean face, teal eyes. Still, Rin saw him under another light ; he never knew about the promise, nor the humiliation. He only knew about how easy it had been to delete any number related to his parents and change the locks — if anything, his parents still payed for the house until Rin managed to gain some rights on it. (He did threaten them for it, but that was something else.)

His brother gave him a shrug, standing up to finish the tea still waiting on the counter. Rin stayed standing in the kitchen, but let Sae the space he needed.

"I was glad you cut them off. It gave me the strength to do it too."

And it was such odd words. Rin giving strength to Sae? It always had been the other way around — even when they weren't talking, it was rage for his brother that made him push through everything. Sae gave him his cup and they drank it without another word for a long time.

Rin had so much to think about. So much questions he could ask. So much scenarios he needed to remake in his mind. He never had thought Sae could have fight for him — he was thirteen when all of this started. Now that Rin was older, he was seeing how Sae shouldn't have had to do this. Impossible choices, a life being away from everything he knew, being treated like nothing else than a trophy of a genius by the world and his parents. Rin looked at his hands and felt the sting of the cup too hot for him against his fingers. It kept him anchored.

He looked at his brother and wanted to ask — did you really think I was useless? That I couldn't possibly be better than you — be good at all? Have I been enough for you one day? — but instead he asked; "Who's the one you'll marry?"

Sae blinked at him. He took his cup to wash it and Rin let him do it without pushing. He tried to not let show his surprise when he turned to look at Sae and he saw him with the ghost of a grin on his face.

"Will you talk to me about the one who tattooed you?"

Rin sniffled. He wrinkled his nose, hands hiding in his pockets. He could already feel heat against his ears, creeping down his neck and up his cheeks. He didn't look away and instead scowled at his brother — Sae didn't feel threatened one second. He looked back, crossed his arms on his chest and rolled his eyes at Rin's silence.

"Saw the cream in the bathroom."

"It doesn't explain—"

"Your friend came by the other day," and Rin frowned. "The purple haired one. Glared at me, asked me where you were and then mumbled something along the ways — is he with Bachira again?"

Rin will kill him. Or probably just threaten him. Maybe he could make sure to spill all the embarrassing secrets Rin had on him to Nagi — worst. Hiori. Fuel the daily tease.

Before he could answer, Sae moved to their freezer and Rin leaned in to see what he was taking out of it, any murder ideas set aside. He rose his eyebrow when Sae showed him the blue popscicles still linked together. Sae made a movement in his direction and Rin took his part to break them in two.

It was weird. Last time they did this, Sae needed to go home to finish his suitcase. They were walking the same path near the beach and Rin was saying to himself — tomorrow I'll need to walk here alone.

Rin didn't think when he guided Sae at the back of the house. Some cats where already there, sleeping or slowly wandering around — he took a moment to feed them under Sae's gaze. When he finally sat back, he tried to relax in the chair to look at the stars above them. He was still feeling uncomfortable — he couldn't know what Sae was thinking or what the next thing would be. The cold of the popscicle against his teeth made him wince.

"Shido Ryusei," Sae said after licking the ice. He looked at how Rin bit in it — like he always did — and sighed. "I know you know its name and the rumors with it."

Rin shrugged. He knew them, but he didn't really care. For one because he hated breaking someone's privacy just because they were celebrities. But also because before today, he didn't think he'll have to talk about Sae's relationship or wedding or anything.

"It is good to you?"

Sae nodded. In the dark of the night, his messy hair made him look younger than he really was. A small part of a past Rin wasn't there to see. He bit his popscicle again, looking away.

"Bachira is too. Good for me, I mean. My friends too. You'll saw them at the wedding. Bachira — the one who tattooed me."

Rin closed his eyes. He was getting stupid — probably fatigue rushing down his shoulders. With all of this, it had been a long day, emotionally. A bit too long for him but… He was glad he had done all this. The tattoo, the kiss on his cheek, the talk with his brother — he was getting his life back, and he liked it.

Still, Sae didn't say anything at his awkwardness. He looked at the small baton and broke it in two to throw it in the trash. Rin wondered how Sae managed to finish his popscicle before him while he was only licking it while Rin was taking bites of it but it was a stupid question. Sae always had been number one on many things, and finishing his popscicle first was one of it.

"I am glad you have a life for yourself, Rin."

Rin didn't say me too, or I wish you were there, or Thanks. Instead, he looked at his own baton and turned it for Sae to see it. He smiled to his brother for the first time in many years.

"I won again."