#khadeins

Scared Rin-san isnot a pretty Rin-san, a real departure from his usual photo-ready, sunshine-cheerful,eye-blinding self. Scared Rin-san is angry and volatile, a hark back to Rei’sfirst year of high school, when Rin-san was scared all the time and, like acornered wild animal, more a danger to himself than to anyone else.

A while ago – several minutes, in fact –Nagisa’d said, “calm down, Rin-chan. You just need to give him some space. He’sgoing to come back on his own.”

Rin-san had told him to, “fuck off, Nagisa,you don’t know what you’re talking about,” shouting over the music. He’d lookedrebellious, resolute, afterward, as if he hadn’t intended to say it, but wasgoing to follow through now he had.

Nagisa had risen from his seat, looking stonilyfurious, an expression Rei is thankfully not very familiar with, and said, in avoice like icicles protruding from a cave roof,

“I wish you luck with him, Rei-chan, he’simpossible right now. Rin-chan, when you want to apologize, you’ll know whereto find me.”

Rei can see him now, several meters away,chatting up some spellbound stranger near the bar’s stage, where the live bandis playing something loud, metal, and headache-inducing. Nagisa catches Reilooking, flashes him a large smile. Rei smiles back.

“I’m sorry,” Rin-san says, hoarsely, whenhe has coughed out the lump in his throat, face still luminously tearstained, “Ishouldn’t have said that.”

There are dark rings underneath his eyes, likehe hasn’t slept in a whole week, and a spot of red on his mouth, where he’sbitten through his lip. Rei thinks, vaguely, that he would not look out ofplace in a horror film.

Rei shrugs, pushes a glass of water in hisdirection. “Nagisa-kun doesn’t hold grudges.”

Rin-san heaves a sigh, swallows, audibly. “Still,”he says, looking out in Nagisa’s direction. Rei thinks he is going to addsomething else, like he doesn’t deserve to hear things like that from me,but instead, Rin-san looks down at his hands, curled tightly around his glassof water, knuckles white.

“Rei,” Rin-san says, so quietly Rei has tolean in to listen. “What do you do when you’re afraid you’re going to lose,” hepauses, “someone?” He clasps and unclasps his hands.

“Look, Rin-san,” Rei begins, and pauses. Whathe wants to say is I honestly don’t know what to tell you; this is not myarea of expertise; ask me anything else – but now Rin-san is looking at himwith a sort of hopeful desperation on his face that makes Rei want to backaway, or put his head down and cry, “from what you’ve said, you weren’t theonly one in the wrong. These things take time. Take a step back, wait forthings to blow over.”

Rin-san’s face drops. Rei can feel theweight of his disappointment as if it were a corporeal thing. It makes histhroat stick. I’m sorry, he wants to say.

“Haru’s not Nagisa, Rei,” Rin-san says. Hesounds tired, all of a sudden, spent, just like Rei feels.

Sympathy makes Rei reach out, place hishand on his shoulder – tentatively, because Rin-san does not always welcomebeing touched. Surprisingly, Rin-san does not object; instead, he leans into Rei,shoulders sagging into Rei’s, like a tent collapsing in on itself, head comingto rest under Rei’s chin.

It is not the most comfortable position inthe world, and Rei would rather he was not sitting in a noisy, crowded bar, butat least, unlike words, physical gestures of support and consolation areeasier to understand, and not so easily misunderstood, and usually betterreceived, in Rei’s experience.

“I know,” Rei says into his hair, “but they’vebeen friends a long time. Didn’t Nagisa say the same thing?” He bites his lipbefore he adds something less comforting, like, hey, maybe listening wouldhelp.