take hold of your fate!

@helpfulhands

    Huh. This sure as hell is a situation. Keiji exhales a heavy sigh as everyone starts splitting off to search this mysterious place. Of course one face sticks around, watching him carefully. Kid’s been eyeing him since they all found each other. Though, if he’s honest, the blonde’s been keeping an eye on him too.

      After meeting up with Megumi and allowing her divine judgement and execution to play out in front of him unheeded, well… Keiji’s unsure if he can let Joe’s resemblance to a certain ghost slide so easy as just coincidence. He rubs his neck. Of course, it’d be trouble to get too caught up in the past right now. (Don’t acknowledge the hand on your shoulder, Shinogi.)

      “So, guess you’re going to keep me in your sights, huh kid?” He drawls the question, not looking over at him at first. “’Suppose that’s fair. You have someone to worry about after all.” Grey eyes finally roll over to meet the student’s gaze. “I won’t wander off I promise… just keep up while I’m looking around alright?”

  there’s definitely the weight of guilt on his shoulders when he decides to pair off with keiji over sara, but he’s sure he’ll find something that makes it worth it! ... not that he’s the most subtle of people, especially with his obvious suspicion back in the main area.

  ( past the apparent, he can feel keiji’s eyes on his back. the discomfort is strong and joe fiddles with his tie, anxiety at his fingertips. )

  joe huffs when keiji meets his eyes, lips pursed in a pout and eyebrows furrowed. he isn’t a fan of the man hitting the nail directly on the head here, especially when he manages to be almost as suspicious as kai.

  ( his head throbs with a lingering headache. he knows he saw the man, but... but the desperate, wild-eyed look didn’t match the image he’s trying to fit him with. )

  “ yeah, yeah... ” he grumbles, lifting one of the cushions on the chair. disappointment leads him to setting it back down and joe drops into it, sinking down and covering his face briefly. there’s still too much to think about; the entirety of sara and his kidnapping, the first trial, meeting with these people...

  what the hell is happening?

  yet, with a lack of answers that’ll present themselves, all joe can do is start asking.

        Little, if anything, can compare to the drone of machinery, a constant versus the abrupt chirps and blasts of wind. The creaking bed overwhelms the ambiance and Akane looks down at the source, ignoring the compulsion to wince alongside Teru. His chin lifts from his knee, his eyes closely following Teru’s movements, and his hand reaches towards Teru’s shoulder. It lowers just as quickly when he glances up to Teru’s eyes and watches them glance away, their strain and his wounds all too obvious within.

        “Don’t push yourself,” he mutters, although it’s clear enough in the quiet.

        The sun rises into view behind them, shedding red and orange as it ascends above the trees. It seeps into their bandages and fresh wounds, piercing with shame and worry and exhaustion. In greater strength, it bounces off of the two of them. As it rises, Akane sees it envelop Teru the way that it couldn’t when the sun dawned and the shade swallowed them whole. Yet, the early hours don’t lessen the harshness of Teru’s words: as strange and generous as his words are, the sound of his voice cuts and grates in every way unlike a prince. And it’s not that he cares about him in the same way that the rest of the school does. Rather, it startles him; hearing Teru weak and guardless and everything that he isn’t only cuts into him further, adding another wound to his arms that’s unexplainable to all others.

        ( What will they say when the president and vice president of the student council are in ruins like this? They’ll see Teru’s seat open and his head asleep in a school room they would never expect to see him in, and take the time to give him gifts and wish for his health, and…

        No. What will they say about this and the auditorium? Will they know anything at all? )

        “Right,” he remembers, and he nods, but it’s stiff and forced. Seeing Teru in this state—it’s like he’s seeing something that he should never have seen. The words ring in his head and Akane grips the edge of his pants. “Right.”

        “…And you’re telling me that when you’re the one who almost died?” His grip is tighter and tighter until, before he knows it, he’s standing up and closer to the bedside, red in his hands and the edges of his cheeks as he stares at the other.

        “What’s the point of telling me to be careful and then throwing yourself into the lights? Were you going to keep fighting if you hadn’t passed out right after?” He’s hardly seen the boy in action and yet he knows the answer all too well. “You can’t just do that every time you’re up against a supernatural or you’ll just—!”

        The obvious answer slips his tongue. His hands rest, no longer white and red and clutching the ends of the bed but still tense and unsteady. His face is still as red as his own hair and it takes a moment for it to subside, the last dying in his uncracked lenses.

        “…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you like… that.”

        It’s six in the morning. The dawn is only halfway done. And, already, a weight feels heavy on Akane’s shoulders.

  the lecture he receives is far more expected than the concern bleeding into akane’s tone. akane aoi isn’t one to worry about him; if teru has accidentally caught the affections of the student body, the boy’s the outlier that stands to the side with a scowl, a signature roll of the eyes, the question of why hangs over his head. it’s almost endearing to know he cares at least a bit in spite of his harsh attitude.

  ... not that teru much deserves the softness. bandaged hands curl as the sunrise settles across the room, breathing in the silence through shallow intakes. he isn’t quite sure he’s felt this sore in years, perhaps in his entire life. each life saved from dangerous supernaturals holds a part of his heart, but the ones he brings down that have committed no crimes yet are blown to the wind. they don’t matter; supernaturals are presences that offer nothing to those that reside in the near shore, only serving to be nuisances that he has to remove before it’s too late.

  yet, here one is at his bedside, full of life and emotions he didn’t see coming.

  teru blinks once, twice, a few more before he manages to get his vision to straighten out enough to get a clear image of akane. 

  ( how do you answer both of those questions, spoken in a voice raw with anger, with a no? teru minamoto may be a liar, one that dances around the truth and jumps through hoops to avoid answering some questions directly, but akane’s rare instance of worry makes him... )

  “ i’m usually not this weak, aoi. i’m sorry, ” he apologizes, sinking back into the bed and pillow. teru keeps eye contact with akane, a small lilt at the edge of his lips to brush off the ugly honesty he’ll hand over (even if he’s certain the other knows exactly how he’ll answer). “ if i was at my best, even if the supernatural is as powerful as it seems... i would have given my life to defeat it without hesitation. ”

  family duty over everything else. its how he was brought up and even as the bile in his stomach reminds him that kou feels the same and the unabashed rage he felt hearing it out of his younger brother’s mouth, teru will speak it freely. he’s strong, the one his siblings look up to, an exorcist with the years of practice at his hand and the unwavering will to purge the near shore of those that lurk out of sight.

  “ ... i won’t ask you to do the same. ”

  it’s courtesy. akane’s a supernatural, but there’s that hard block of how the red rose on his cheeks and how the sun hits him that brings such a distinctly human feeling to his vice president that teru can’t find it in him to go about this like any other day. the bracelet on his wrist remains still, sliding only when teru reaches over to give akane a pat on the head.

        By the time Teru reaches him, Akane’s certainly been fazed—if the new tears in his sleeves and scuffs on his vest are proof enough. When that blade and lightning shoots forward, Akane barely has the energy to fall back, holding to the edge of an armrest to steady himself.

        The blade moves and the lightning fades from the air above him, and Akane stands back up, leant forward and over the nicks on his arms. Where that blade had landed, he had once been, moments away from the cut on the side of his neck becoming much more severe.

        Chalk it up to a wrong swing, one cast with rotten judgement in the heat of a surprise attack. As the blood drips onto his shoulder, he turns to where Teru is—where he had been before he set off again—and watches the last that he can find of him in the darkness.

        “…Thanks,” he mumbles—even if he can’t be heard.

        The lightning starts up again and he nears its domain, a gloved hand on the ends of the rows to steady himself. He watches, and waits for the killing blow, and…

        And…

        ( There is the sound of something strange and unnatural on his left. Teru Minamoto has landed, sudden and direct and familiar, just moments away on his right.

        They’ve made another mistake. )

        There’s a moment where every feeling and every thought gathers in his mind, stopping time without the need to freeze its hands still. Akane’s grip on the cold metal armrests tightens, and his heart does, too, as the words he ought to say fall farther and farther out of reach. Where Teru is—what happened—he’d only seen the wind and the darkness move, and the sharp clash of something on metal, and then nothing.

        He’s not sure when he starts to run, after that. Maybe it’s when he processes what must have happened, or after time freezes through the sleight-of-hand of the pocketwatch. The lightning crackles from the stage once more before cutting out, sharp as static, and Akane finds himself in its spot in little time. One hand, then the other, reaches out on the floor, eyes searching for any raise on the floor that seems off in the dark. A whiles away from the farther sparks is the cold edge of metal and the gold hilt that adorns it; in a dull, dimmed reflection, a few feet away, Akane finds skin and cloth and blood that hasn’t had the chance to pool.

        ( He’s done this before, in this same auditorium, just a little different. Before the chandelier lights fell and a precious life had been placed directly under danger, he’d taken Aoi in his arms and moved her out of harm’s way. This time—

        This time, the lights have long fallen, and the life of the boy in question should be more important to anyone else than to him. But still, he takes Teru in his arms, and before the supernatural of the shadows can move, passes it by with a long and hard glance.

        By the time that the present has caught up to them, the two are long gone. )

                                                          — ✦ —

        It feels like hours before he speaks to him.

        The clock keeper’s garb is long gone, replaced by Akane’s normal vest and cloth and fresh bandages over the scrapes and wounds. Still, at the side of the bed where Teru Minamoto lays, Akane leans back, one foot and knee pulled up over the seat whilst the other reaches the floor. He waits there, and waits, and waits—

        And when he hears the slight rustle of noise, he speaks.

        “I thought you’d just told me to be careful.”

        ( ‘Are you okay?’ is a better translation for that, although it goes completely unsaid. )

  if not for his attempt at continuing the fight moments before losing consciousness, teru would have been hit harder by the burning sense of shame in his stomach. even now, while he drifts back to the surface and shifts somewhat under the sheets of the infirmary, he can only begin to wonder how such a minor change could bring his ruin. teru’s eyes remain half-lidded under the harsh lights of the room, searching to find a familiar anything to grasp.

  akane’s voice is the first and he’s careful to turn to him. his mouth opens and it’s all dry, every word that wants to come out is like dust and he closes it again and tries to swallow. each inch of his body is sore and teru squeezes his eyes shut in a weak attempt at banishing the mind-numbing ringing in his ears and the headache from his temples.

  ( consistency remains and, like with everything else today, he fails. )

  “ ... so i did. ”

  teru’s voice scratches his vocal cords and he winces. how long was he out? he tries opening his eyes further, grimacing when his vision doesn’t straighten itself out into a clear picture. how hard could he have been thrown against those stage lights?

  it all feels far too blurry right now, like a fog that’s descended over the darkness and covered the matter. teru recognizes his mistakes, knows of what he could have done better and the steps, but the story acts like an old book with pages torn from it in these moments.

  he’ll ask akane later. for now...

  teru works on shimmying himself into a sitting position, hissing as some of his wounds flare up in response to the movement. he briefly examines the bandages and rests back against the pillow, gaze drifting to his hands as opposed to the boy by his bedside.

  ( would kou be disappointed in him? would the elder brother he’s respected all this time, the one he stood up to with such strong conviction that, despite it all, teru couldn’t do much aside from back down? would that boy he’s inspired and hoped to lead see that maybe he isn’t much after all?

  teru doesn’t know. kou will learn what happened soon enough-- if he didn’t while he was asleep-- and the moment of truth will arrive then. )

  “ ... good job on holding your own, aoi. i wasn’t sure... that you could do it. ”

“ you don’t have to worry so much, hanako-san. “ yugi replies, reaching a hand forward to thumb off some of the batter on the table, promptly testing it without listening to a single word of her protest. with that, honey eyes slowly become alight, twinkling with a child-like fascination and obvious approval. “ as your loyal assistant, i’ll suffer through any trial to be by your side. “

“ i wouldn’t have been mad if i had to clean this off anyway. “ he points to the batter, smiling from ear to ear. “ stuff like this would be good enough to eat off my clothes any day of the week. “ ugh. boys are so gross. he flashes a cheeky smirk before taking a step back, jumping to perch himself on the next table. it had been a compliment, as far as he was concerned, but the smugness of his demeanor suggests that he knows exactly what he was doing. “ but are you sure i shouldn’t worry about it? unless you want to keep them all for yourself. “

a chuckle. “ it’d definitely be understandable. but, hm… “ a thoughtful kick of his legs. “ are there no new supernaturals to deal with today? maybe a few exorcists or angry mysteries that have to be talked to? “ he lets a beat pass. “ unless everyone has been well behaved lately. “ no new gossip comes to mind, even as he rubs at a padded bandage on his arm with his thumb; a habit that he’s yet to break. no, he wouldn’t tell her that he didn’t want to go home today. not yet. 

“ … do you ever get hungry anymore, hanako-san?

  hanako, for all of her years wandering this school, doesn’t think she’s ever seen such open flirtation in her entire un-life. her expression falls flat as he blatantly pretends she hadn’t given a warning, a mild amount of distress forming in her stomach at the idea of the raw batter having some averse effect. can’t that kill people? doesn’t it have serious health impacts if you eat things like this raw?!

  “ gross, ” she answers without an ounce of hesitation. “ you could clean it with paper towels or anything besides eating it, amane-kun... ”

  not that hanako can hide the red tinting her cheeks. baking anything after only getting sparse practice between her other activities only to be complimented is... nice. perhaps it’s only amane continuing with this charade, but hanako is the ghost of a girl who lived for the ideal of a fairytale romance. “ it’s a surprise, okay? you can know when i’m done. ”

  she considers pulling him from the table, but a glance to his arms and the rest are enough to put a complete stop to her idea. no, she won’t bother him over something as trivial as manners when it’s only them. “ ah... no, its been fine thankfully, having a break from everything for a bit almost feels weird, huh? ” she muses, returning to the other side of the table finally to continue her work. 

  a pause with the question and hanako furrows her brows.

        There’s no reasoning with him.

        Supernaturals have never, never had the interests of human beings in mind—who better than Akane to know that? Even then, he can’t help but pause and watch as Teru walks off. He’s always agreed with him on the cruelty and danger of supernaturals, but…

        ( But isn’t exorcising them in this state a little too far? )

        Still, Akane knows, with the blood visible under the spotlights, that stopping is out of the question. The tenacity and drive of the student council president extends too far, especially here. Akane wants to do something—to pull him back, to shield a blow or stop it before it can even land—but his own strength and abilities only hold so much weight.

        Then Teru reaches past the curtains, and his line of thought breaks.

        “…Of course.” It’s all he can say as he passes under the frozen stage lights to follow.        His eyes glance when they can towards the rest of the auditorium, tracing the last known area of the supernatural, the exit, and the rest of their surroundings for an advantage—but there’s nothing. The stage lights would have been vital: not just for the capture itself, but for the steps leading up to it. Without it and the lightning thrown around the room…

        Well, even Akane wouldn’t be able to see a thing. That wouldn’t bode well for either of them.

        Akane lags behind, but he still makes three-quarters of the way to the board in little time. Yet, before he can take another step to lessen the distance, he hears the rustle of wind, a fizz, a crack that isn’t from thunder—

                and time begins to move.

        He hardly has time to react before the lights fall and shatter on the stage floor. Even from the distance he’s reached, Akane turns back, eyes wide watching the glass and light refract one last time. The lightning begins to fade, and he hurries up to Teru’s place in the auditorium—

        But it’s too late. The world moves too quick, and, before he can reach the last stretch, the shadows ripple and blur. Something finds its way towards him; in the blitz that follows, Akane backs up from the aisle into the seating, and he blurs into the darkness, red and gold only noticeable in the faint light.

  the lights shattering sends a chill up his spine and kickstarts a ringing in his ears. has five minutes already passed? akane would never purposely cut their time short during such an important moment, especially when he himself would be in danger. teru narrows his gaze, blade at the ready as he traverses back into the seating.

  it takes a glint from a burst of lightning off the tip of his blade to catch proper sight of akane, to make note of how the shadows move and--

  teru stumbles only once as he shoots forward, clearing the distance in two large bounds and swinging. his blade connects with a more dense piece of the darkness, wedging the blade in and sending waves of lightning directly into it.

  “ aoi... be more careful. ”

  for all the effort, however... without knowing where the main body is, this is only a temporary victory. teru breathes heavy, leaning more onto his right leg and watching the enemy briefly retreat to recover. if he can spot where all of it collects in the limited presence of light where it gathers, then maybe... maybe...

  he can go directly for the source and destroy it.

  ( if not for how muddled his head continues to be, he would plan further. )

  a step, two, and he leaps. teru balances on the armrests of the seats, careful as he navigates and keeps his sword angled to stab forward. he stops, listens, and waits-- before jumping and moving to form a lightning cage around where the source appears to be.

  yet, the directionless nature of the auditorium’s darkness plays tricks easily on those without the proper mental standing. teru feels the lack of a trapped supernatural far too late as he lands, one foot going out from under him as another force slams directly into his side. a gasp and he goes flying, slamming into the downed stage lights.

  the wind is knocked completely out of his lungs, pain flaring throughout his entire torso. his sword has fallen from his grasp and he doesn’t know where it is and he’s faltering, he’s failing, how can he recover from this and succeed--

       her mind — it twists and turns and spins. it weaves memories together she isn’t sure are hers or hers ( the many hers that have bore the favoring eyes, beating within their chests that have experienced so much, too much ). and there is something more; as if she shouldn’t be as if… she doesn’t know. thinking of it, trying to understand — who was she ? who is she ? she can’t make sense of it anymore. it forces her to wander, as if the movement will bring all the crumbling pieces together into something tangible. 

    remnants of her death fade away; a hell she lives in, yet it offers a semblance of kindness in how a hell is never solitary. no, it is for every inhabitant, for each and every lost soul to view, to hear, to etch into already weary minds. and burn it into she does, as suffocating heat catches in her throat when she hears it: beeping. a mechanical, repetitive sound that is so eerily misplaced in a world of heavy silence. she follows the sound, the pounding of her head ceasing as the lost hero focuses on this one thing. 

   and then she sees him. she sees him, and feels frustrated. no, not frustrated. shocked, perhaps ? angry ? she isn’t sure ( because all she’s felt for so long is loneliness and mourning, and so detached is she that she can’t easily place a name to the clench in her chest upon seeing her dear upperclassman ). a mix of spiteful emotions churn in the pits of her stomach because why ? why is he here ? she glances to the left, to the right, sees the IVs hooked to this one, single gentle boy and she can’t help but utter his name, voice hoarse from lack of use.

    ❝ h… haruka-san… ? ❞

@helpfulhands​ // shall we mourn a reunion or believe us to be blessed for such sorrowful companionship ?

  the monotony of only hearing the medical machinery around him has faded from his ears after so long of listening to them. hands rest folded on his lap, eyes shut and breaths soft to feign sleep. it’s not possible in a strange realm like this; it’s as if his consciousness and the IVs that have found home in his arms won’t allow it.

  thus, he rests there, taking his time to examine the surroundings, see how much progress he can make dragging himself off the bed before it hurts when faking sleep is too bothersome. haruka isn’t entirely sure of what crime he committed to deserve this fate, one where his body is stolen before his eyes and he has to remain in the background while... while...

  suddenly, he doesn’t want to think about it. haruka opens his eyes, staring into the expanse that provides nothing for him. if only he had his sketchbook, a single pencil that never ran low on lead, anything to do while he sat here...

  that’s too much to ask from the afterlife though, isn’t it?

  he should be grateful he survived longer than the initial prognosis said, right? winding up in a kinder place, one where he’d be free instead of going through the strange events since the end of his life would be much more enjoyable than any of this. haruka grimaces at the downhill roll his thoughts are doing and adjusts himself, grunting as the lack of movement catches up and his body protests.

  still, that doesn’t stop him from taking note of an unfamiliar presence, a different sound that passes by. haruka’s head lifts and he spots the black and red, the familiar face of his junior that he’s missed dearly, the junior that...

  that...?

        Oh. “Minamoto-senpai.” It’s the first words that slip out of his mouth as the door opens and swings shut behind him. The abyss vanishes from sight, and Akane finds himself face-to-face with his senior.

        …Which is fine. Akane’ll be irritated for the next few hours after he gets hurled back and forth through the air, but at least he’s home. The student council door has always been a familiar one; after losing himself in a place that’s nowhere…

        Maybe, even if he could go anywhere, it’s the first place he would g…

        ( How did you get here? )

        It’s not the question that shocks him as much as Teru’s actions. He’s half-prepared to quip on the idiocy of the Far Shore and in-between again as he slips off a glove, but Teru asks another question and he freezes.

        What is this? A sick joke? Teru Minamoto doesn’t have a boundary. After all, he’s not…

        ( Why doesn’t he recognize him?)

        “Don’t you remember me?” He doesn’t mean to be snarky, but by now, it’s become second nature. “My name is Akane Aoi. The first of the Seven Mysteries, and the last of the Clock Keepers. And… the vice president of the student council. If you don’t recall, then should I be asking who you are, instead?”

  minamoto-senpai?

  he... sure hasn’t heard that title in a while. teru quirks a brow, curiosity piqued a bit further but his guard remaining as steely as his gaze. still, in spite of his doubt and the tapping of his fingers against the wood of his desk, he listens. while the first two sound reasonable enough (fitting in what he remembers), though to hear he is the vice president of the student council is... jarring, to say the least.

  “ ... you called me by my name, so you should know who i am already, ” he points out, running a hand through his hair and sighing. “ teru minamoto. i’m the fourth of the seven mysteries. ”

  with that curt introduction, he gives a wave of the pen and one of the file drawers comes open. teru steps around to it, searching through the manila folders with ease before pulling out two of them. he flips them both open and gestures for akane to approach, settling back into his chair and resting his chin on bridged fingers.

  that is certainly the creak of his door. that... is definitely not a familiar person standing in the doorway. teru looks him up and down, narrowing his eyes and stopping the movement of the pen he’s using. he studies the other boy before slowly rising from his seat. 

  “ ... how did you get here? ”

  it’s a genuine question laden with cautious, teru circling to the front of his desk to properly stand and face the intruder. the pen is still gripped tight in his hand. if he can’t figure out what akane’s intentions are fast, there’s bound to be a confrontation, right?

  “ more importantly, who are you? invading my boundary without a warning or permission is punishable, you know, ” teru explains. “ it’s inconsiderate to barge into the student council office without a reason as well. ”

   sou can feel the guilt coiling around joe and holding the younger back as if it was his own. there’s a part of him that finds it a relief; even as joe tries to reach out with never-ending faith and camaraderie, it lacks the usual intensity, being chipped away as it fights through this tangible awkwardness to reach him. it gives sou a chance to breathe, if only a little.

   ( there’s a part of him that finds it sad; though never-ending, it was so subdued that it hardly felt like it came from the same boy at all. and after all the trouble sou had gone through to help bring him back? a full recovery was never expected, and until recently, a development like this would have only brought some small hope back to sou — but something about it now weighs on him. )

  “ … you’re a pretty hopeful guy, huh? ”

   sou leaves those words as his only reply as they head off toward the door in question. he hoped it would be enough to keep joe from prodding — or from trying to fill the weird space between them with yet more optimism — because he honestly wasn’t sure how else to respond. in the end he swore to start believing in joe, but that didn’t mean everything else had to come with it. belief certainly didn’t smooth over all that they had done and kindle a new friendship between them. 

   maybe belief was all he needed for now, though.

   “ well, ” sou’s voice cuts through again, hoping for a firm topic change in the door that now stood before them. “ we’d better start now if we plan on trying to figure it out before the— ” he stops himself and tugs his scarf over his collar.  “ before time runs out. ” 

  it’s the last comment he would expect to receive. for all he’s shown this sou since they reunited, how could he say such a thing? the downtrodden expression that has surely taken over his face unintentionally this entire time, how sad his eyes have seemed at any time joe’s been investigating and briefly glancing into a reflective surface, quiet answers...

  ( hey, does this sou know joe’s letting the original down? does he care? )

  joe doesn’t understand. maybe his words have had more of an effect, maybe sou can sense the genuineness he’s attempting to put out even now. he comes to a total pause as the other walks past him and he only stares at sou from behind, mouth slightly agape and words once again catching themselves at the edge of his tongue.

  as much as it makes him want to cry, joe opts to smile. there’s not as much force behind it as before, the feeling of a small weight raising briefly from his shoulders allows the edges of his lips to curve the same. 

  it’s not bad to have someone believe in you, right? joe catches up after what feels like a lifetime of standing still, eyes a touch brighter and a subtle pep added back to his step. “ it’ll be fine! if we don’t figure it out now, i’m sure someone else can and then we can all share info, ” he comments, approaching the door and taking a moment to press the wall in various spots.

        It’s been a while, hasn’t it?

        It doesn’t take long to find Teru: the crowd of darkness filling the auditorium can’t subdue the shine of his hair. The lightning erupting around them only amplifies it. Gold highlights refract, scatter onto the walls, and bounce into Akane’s eyes. He squints as he steps through the doorframe, and watches with narrowed eyes for Teru’s movements. He blurs in and out of focus, and Akane can hardly tell it’s him: there’re enough differences to the last time he saw him fight.

        Maybe it’s the shadows speaking for him, but Akane remembers metal biting at his blood and electricity paralyzing time quicker than this. Maybe it’s because Akane was hardly well trained with using fifteen minutes to fight, but Teru’s spending eternity to contain it.

        He would blame the details he found earlier for his worried thoughts if they weren’t worrying.

        ( Don’t hold me back, Akane remembers.                 He tries not to. )

        From his position at the peak of the audience, he can’t pinpoint much else. When he does, he finds the gaze of the other, smothered by frantic blocks of shadow. It brightens and stiffens with each echoing clang; once, it manages to blaze, like a fire in the dark.

        A crack echoes through the auditorium. It stems from the stage and the performers, not the audience. And, as Akane looks up from Teru to the spotlight and curtains—

        Another crack thunders, louder than before, and the stage lights swing down.

        ( There’s only one time when Akane’s had to fumble in his pockets as quick as he has to now. )

        The end of the chain hooks around his finger as he thrusts his hand towards the scene. The gold pocket watch launches forward, and its curve finishes with the tassel on the end. The thunder disappears; only the lightning stays glowing around him and Teru. The only noise left is the last, sharp movement of the supernatural, just before time halts.

        The first thing he hears when all is still is his own sigh. It’s rough, long, and heavy; he hadn’t thought he had held it until now. His feet move before he can think. He ducks through the bolts of lightning, and when he reaches his senior, he bares his teeth.

        “What the hell are you doing?” he spits. They’re the first words he can think of. “Where are we capturing it if the lights are down? Or if you end up dead?”

        They’re too close to the stage lights, frozen above them like a system of stars in midair. Akane hadn’t processed that until they were next to each other. Even as the cost of all of this destruction will go to them to fix, Akane focuses on Teru instead, still burning bright under artificial light.

        “We still have time. You better think of a way to fix this before we run out.”

  he’s disoriented.

  it’s not a condition that teru is wanting to admit to, but the lack of sleep is definitely getting to him. he trips up, stumbles, narrowly avoids attacks he’s certain he’d be able to deflect and counter in a normal state. the dizzying darkness is no help and the sounds of wires snapping and glass  shattering don’t help--

  wait... wait, that isn’t supposed to happen--

  where is he aiming?

  teru snaps back to himself as time falls to a pause, steadying himself between two stagnant bolts of lightning that are around him. the light that glows gently from them is enough to see his approaching underclassmen and the various cuts to his clothing. embarrassment is the first emotion at the forefront, lips turned in disgust as he finally recognizes the warmth on his arm as an attack that cut him.

  ( lacking sleep really does have worse effects than he thought, huh? )

  “ i... ” he begins, slowly tilting his head to look up towards the hanging lights. those were his sole strategy because his family name be damned if he allowed the supernatural to ruin it. yet, here he is, the distinct way the glass is broken and how they flicker from the lightning that shot through it.

  still, there’s a snap of attention when a solid minute after everything stood still that teru registers that second half of akane’s worrying. sure, it would be inconvenient if a supernatural killed him for several reasons, but hearing it out of the other’s mouth is certainly...

  ... it’s not important right now.

  “ help me come up with a solution then, aoi, ” he responds, heading off to try and find his way to the sound and lighting board. it has to be around here somewhere, right? he... didn’t break all the lights, right?

  ( if he did, he couldn’t tell. there has to be one that survived, otherwise...

   awkward hardly begins to cover the mess sou’s found himself in now. he wishes what he felt now was merely awkwardness.

   like the boy besides him, his eyes strayed anywhere but to his newly assigned partner. sou had harbored his own doubts before on whether these assignments would truly be random, but fate and midori both were cruel enough to place him right where he was in this moment — right next to the one who sentenced him to his botched death.

    “ u-um, well— ”

   now was not the time to get lost in thought; the lies sou had balanced before were trivial to what he had to deal with now. he never thought he’d have to see joe again, and he certainly didn’t make time before to process any emotions about his death. there was a certain reprieve in this forced deceit, in joe not expecting or suspecting anything — and yet, it settled so uneasily in the pit of sou’s stomach.

   “ well, in the end, I should be following your lead, right? in this case, I think I know less than you do— ”   his hat is pulled firmly down over his head, passing off the lie as a mild chill at most, “ —and I’d like to keep my head. ”

   an expecting silence settles in between them, and for once, its presence fills him with a certain dread.

   “ we could try that red door again. not really sure what else we could do about it, especially with me around, but it’s the only place we haven’t gotten a good look at yet. ”

  hey, why couldn’t you just let sou rest? why did you bring him back like this?

  there’s no doubt about the guilt that ties his nerves and binds his tongue. it doesn’t matter if sou has no memory of how he wound up where he is, how the main game slipped through the holes in his memories while a video rebuilt only the minutes prior to death.

  that’s not true at all. call all of his previous actions as a leader proof, but he can’t bring himself to even imagine he’s done a good enough job. sou’s always been steps ahead, someone who could see a route and chip away and find something--

  joe doesn’t have that insight. it shouldn’t be this way.

  “ i dunno what you mean by that, but... you’re smarter than me. if you have ideas, i wanna hear them, okay? ” joe replies, taking a few cautionary steps in the direction of the red door. “ if we look at it longer, i’m sure you and i can figure it out together...! ”

  so, this... is awkward. by awkward, he means terrible.

  there’s plenty that joe could say in this moment in the downtime of searching the fourth floor. all the words in his throat, the ones that work their way to the tip of his tongue before subsequently dying are stuck in his head. he fiddles with his tie, focuses on anything besides sou and forces himself to calm down, remember that running off to be alone might kill him, and breathes.

  “ so, uh... ”

  god, it’s like having a knife driven in. he knows sou, he knew sou, saw so many sides of the man that he shouldn’t feel like he’s wandering unfamiliar territory by trying to talk. joe shoves his hands into his pockets and keeps his gaze lingering on sou’s collar as opposed to his eyes.

“ uah-hah, hanako-san at it yet again in the kitchen? “

“ at this rate, i would half expect this to be your boundary compared to the bathrooms, “ the boy says softly, a feather-light step leading him further into the room. ingredients are scattered about to and fro, some spilled from a clearly obvious case of non-corporeality. “ i didn’t know that ghosts could get so hungry. if you had been craving something, i would have been happy to go out to the store to get something for you. “ he says it with full confidence in knowing that she would refuse it ( at first that is, whether or not a second or third prod would work depended on the day ), because ‘as one of the heralded wonders of kamome academy, she had to be able to fend for herself’. despite the strut in his gait, his motions are completely silent, as if the child known as amane yugi had never existed at all. 

rather ungracefully, however, is amane looking over hanako’s shoulder without any warning or request to do so in advance. what amenace, wouldn’t you say?

“ what are you making? “

( @helpfulhands​. )

  “ if only... ” hanako murmurs, casting a single glance over to amane before returning to her work. it’s truly cursed to be a girl like her and be directly sealed to a toilet of all places! given the chance to wander without fear of a certain exorcist coming out to fight her, she would leave the safety of her boundary a bit more often.

  but... well, getting a chance to bake again in some peace was too good to pass up! hanako sighs and returns to ignore amane, figuring that feeding into his offer would only weaken her resolve. sure, it would be the easy route to get the boy to shop for her, but that’s not a good use of his time! assistant or not, hanako would prefer amane to stay by her side than go out--

  ... she should probably not let him know that, especially when he’s being a bit annoying.

  hanako goes to look back at the boy, only to catch him far closer to her face than she expected. letting out a startled cry, she floats herself right over to the opposite side of the table and stares amane down.

could you stop, @helpfulhands​?

        “You don’t need to do this, you know.”

        Joe Tazuna holds no mercy as he drags Ranmaru around the fourth floor. They’ve walked around this floor with the group twice now, and as a pair once or twice more, themselves. It’s a good thing that he can withstand this extent of exercise, but…

        Geez, how can his senior last this long? And how can they walk this far without a hint of progress? And—

        Ranmaru tugs his hand away to no avail. It’s trapped in that oh-so “crushing,” “amazingly strong,” ridiculous grip that his partner has. But, oh, they’ve passed by the locked gate… again. In spite of the futility of escaping, Ranmaru groans, and tugs away from Joe far harder than before.

        “Seriously, you can quit it. It’s…”

        Embarrassing, he doesn’t say. He’s starting to feel like a kid like this. It’s like being a kindergartner exploring a playground with a guardian, except the guardian is far more interested than their child. He gets it: he’s far shorter than Joe is. But does that fact alone need him to take someone else’s hand for an entire hour, or two, or more?

        It doesn’t!

        “I wouldn’t get lost, anyways. It’s the third time we’ve seen this gate, and if I lost you here, I’d die.”

  does joe get that it’s a bit overbearing to keep such a grip on your partner doll’s hand when the guy’s only a year younger at best? yes. is that going to stop him from worrying that some obstacle will rise up and separate them, forcing them to remain stationary and possibly in danger while apart?

  also yes.

  call it paranoia (which it certainly is), but joe’s a bit too worried about getting ranmaru killed a second time to put much care towards comfort. he’s held gin’s hand enough times in the past, so doing it for someone else isn’t--

  well, okay, gin is an affectionate elementary schooler he has known from the start and ranmaru’s... his age and clearly not liking this. joe feels the last yank and lets the other boy go, letting his arm drop limply to his side. 

  “ that’s why i’m worried... ” he mumbles, shoving his hands into his pockets to avoid impulsively grabbing ranmaru’s hand again. “ look, can we just... do one more loop while holding hands and then i’ll stop? i don’t trust this place and if a trap activates ‘cause we got too relaxed, we’re really gonna be in trouble. ”

        “It’s not supposed to be a compliment.” Akane? Admiring the exorcist besides him for anything? It won’t happen for another nine years—and that’s assuming they’ll meet again by then. After all, they won’t need to meet in nine years. Teru Minamoto might as well become the greatest exorcist in Japan, and Akane Aoi will be miles away from the shore that they travel now.

        The idea is a far cry from everything that’s come to mind prior. But Teru obviously isn’t listening, so it’s safe enough for him to do the same.

        Or, well, it would be if he weren’t walking on the wrong side of the exorcist to divert himself. That golden trim steals the light veins of the sunset and hits Akane’s eyes. He’d be blinded if his glasses weren’t cast away on a high shelf in the councilroom—something to laud Teru for now. But it’s still surprising: Teru halts as the lights start to dance on his sheath, and Akane all but walks right into them.

        If they hadn’t shone as the sun always did, he’d have embarrassed himself. ( It’s a pity, then, that they’re like the sun. Teru Minamoto is a terrible person to compare to something like that. )

        “No.” Teru should expect better than that. “The student council doesn’t need to meddle in the affairs of the supernatural. It’s us who have to.”

        He’s annoyed by the president’s remark, of course, but he doesn’t have time to say more about it. Teru begins to explain, as asked ( though, of course, he covers his mouth while he’s at it, ) and Akane ceases a muffled complaint to listen.

        Teru’s annoying gamble of their lives intermixes with a bold amount of expectation. It’s surprising to Akane: he can’t see Teru as anything more than a soloist, who performs his dance without effort or aid. At the very least, it makes it clear that Akane isn’t here for an uncharacteristic, illogical reason, but for genuine assistance.

        He should be fine with the idea. But he hardly likes it, nor does it sit well with him. The lenses have never been real, but they didn’t obscure the strain in Teru’s gaze earlier. Even as the sun ebbs away, Akane’s unfiltered vision only makes the particular details clearer.

        But he tells himself he’s not concerned. If the power and skill Teru has is the same, if not better than what he’s seen before, one simple exorcism should be a breeze.

        “Obviously,” Akane answers, the feigned scoff unnecessary. “And I assume you’re leading the way in, Minamoto?”

  the way the edge of teru’s lips quirk in response should be enough of an answer. akane aoi isn’t exactly a person to mince words regarding his feelings; he’s been rather honest and open about his intentions and what not from the start. while it’s not much of a fond memory, teru does recall how akane gushes about his childhood friend to the point of monotony.

  ( a tragedy that the boy had to give up part of his humanity for her, but... )

  ... no, it must be his tired mind getting to him to think more into this. akane is a supernatural still whether he wished to be one or not. this partnership to protect the students outweighs his pride despite how much he wishes the situation didn’t come to this. he’s a prodigy in the art of exorcism, an exceptionally skilled member of his family since his childhood.

  holding pity towards a supernatural, no matter how human their heart and other features may be, is taboo for him. teru brushes the thoughts off with a turn on his heel, eyeing the entrance once more as he fully draws his sword out. 

  ( the blade shines in the light of the sunset, far brighter than the reflection against the hilt offered. teru approaches the doors and raises his weapon to catch the beams as they hit a point on the door. )

  “ don’t hold me back, aoi, ” he warns, tone sharp yet quiet. his free hand travels to the door handle and he throws it open, directing the beam of light into the abyss. it’s swallowed near instantly and teru’s eyes shine as his sword sparks with lightning. it crackles into the building and, with a final glance to akane, he throws himself into the fight.

  there’s... the clash of metal against something, though whether that’s the wild attacks of the supernatural being blocked or teru ripping into the rows of seats is unclear. the static charge of encased lightning strikes throughout the room, echoing endlessly.

@helpfulhands​, you’re more exhausting than physical education.

        “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” Akane frowns, expression filled with displeasure. It’s the same narrowed eyes and tilted, huffy scowl that he always uses to deal with Teru Minamoto, the student council president standing next to him in the desolate hallway. At this time, Akane would foresee himself with a pen in one hand and crisp paper in the other, filing away records and reminiscing over Aoi for another day—

        But of course, Teru Minamoto is not like that. ( That’s one of his and his brother’s greatest flaws—getting into things they shouldn’t, busying themselves with things beneath or above them. ) Teru Minamoto, a curse onto the Far Shore and those with their hand trapped in the doorway, is too busy as always with the affairs of the supernaturals.

        Of course Teru deems it better than school or councilwork. Of course—and Akane won’t deny it, he agrees—Teru would consider a rogue spirit higher priority than anything, lest it wreak havoc on the school. But, really—and Akane tugs at his sleeve in irritance—Teru could at least give him a break from all of this bullshit.

        “Asking me to help with some shitty supernatural, roping me in and forcing me to use this…” His eyes roll before their gaze lands on the council president, and he lets out a dry scoff. “Haven’t I told you already? I wouldn’t use it for anyone but myself and Ao-chan. Don’t simply presume you can waste it for whatever you like because you’re a powerful exorcist.” In fact, if it had not been for his blood, among other factors, Akane would have frozen time and ran off long ago. It’s a pity that that can’t happen now: it’d make everything so much easier.

        ( But nothing is easy with Teru Minamoto, is it? )

        “But, Minamoto-senpai, since you’re so interested in dragging me with you, why don’t you explain exactly what this bastard’s deal is so that we can get going?”

  “ so i’ve heard, ” teru muses, only half listening to his junior’s complaints. he’ll admit, they’re an odd pair to be wandering the school at this time when the students have generally filed out or gone to participate in after school clubs. his sword swings a bit at this side, his fingers grazing over the sheath and hilt as he walks. there’s no time to listen to akane when he needs to be vigilant.

  ... akane talks a lot. far more than he’s willing to listen to and, if not for the situation, he would’ve left the boy dangling from the ceiling until he returned to let him go. as if to prove this point, he messes with it in plain sight of akane. 

  to state that he doesn’t wish to be here either would be taboo. his sense of duty and will to uphold the laws of this school in his own way pushes him forth, but... dealing with this during his normal resting hours is messing with him. there’s a weariness to teru’s face that he works to expel, mental calendar rewritten and taking into account how he can stay awake until he’s safe to rest tomorrow afternoon. 

  it’s fine, he thinks, the safety of the students is far more important than sleep.

  “ if i call this student council work, will you talk less? ” teru comments, stopping in front of a large set of doors and holding out his arm to keep the other from walking further. he narrows his eyes, squinting through eternally tinted windows that give way to yawning darkness. 

  he backs away and turns, pushing his hand against akane’s mouth and pushing him backwards around a corner. “ as for the supernatural... its taken up residence in the auditorium. it’s most powerful in the darkness and can travel through shadows. that includes ours, so i won’t be watching to ensure your safety. you’re on your own, ” teru starts, finger resting against his chin as if in deep thought. “ ... past that, i can’t contain a supernatural like this as easily in a lightning cage. i need you to stop it so we can find the best way to eliminate all of its hiding spots or, at least, capture it in a single position. ”

  teru levels his gaze on akane, thumb already at his hip and the blade of his sword shining in the sunset’s dying light.

perhaps......... i will start being here again