#moikei

For now, everyone was gathered in the living room, being pampered by Nico. She made it a point to have a "self-care night" now and then, and it was Keigo's first time being part of one. He seemed less than amused.

'Literally, what's the point of this? We're all gonna die anyway,' he muttered, boredom marking his tone. While he looked at the face mask packaging with contempt, everyone else had already put theirs on. Kanshi was lounging on the couch with cucumbers on his eyes and a fizzy drink in his hand, while Morihito was quietly leafing through a vintage men's fashion magazine, keeping his attention mostly on the conversation between Nico and Keigo.

Nico seemed distraught at the pessimistic air in the room. 'Keigo! Don't be like that. Don't you want your skin to be all soft before you die?'

'No.'

She pouted like a little kid. Morihito almost smiled at that. He had been as stubborn as Keigo was back when he met Nico, whenever she wanted to do things like this with him. One quickly learns to adapt, however, and Morihito no longer minded whenever Nico put concoctions on his face, his daily skin care routine having become thorough anyway. And a face mask was always better than a spell.

'If you're going to be stubborn, at least let me make your skin soft with a spell—'

The effect was immediate. Keigo stopped scrolling on his phone and sat up straight. 'Fine,' he bit, though his bitterness didn't seem all that genuine. Morihito's eyes wandered towards his two friends, rather than his magazine, wanting to see how this played out.

Nico hummed as she crawled over to Keigo and pulled back his hair with a cat-shaped headband. Morihito swallowed a breath as he took in his friend's completely bared face. It was only a face, something he should be used to seeing every day, but Keigo made it hard to picture all of it with the way his hair was usually hanging over his eyes. He looked much more vulnerable with his forehead on full display, his black eyes gazing out at nothing as Nico opened the sheet mask.

Morihito couldn't help but notice how much more the eyebags under his eyes stood out now that there was nothing to cover them. Keigo looked beyond exhausted.

'Keigo!' Nico gasped in surprise as she took in his face.

'What?'

'You're, like, totally so pretty. Why do you always hide your face?'

Kanshi removed one cucumber from his eyes and peeked at the werewolf. 'Whoa. She ain't kiddin'. You ever thought about modelling?'

Nico gasped. 'We should totally do a photoshoot sometime! You won't even need makeup. How is your skin so clear? Tell me your secrets! Isn't he totally pretty, Moi?'

Morihito looked away on instinct when he felt Keigo's eyes bore into him as if his opinion on his appearance actually meant something to him. He didn't usually struggle with complimenting a friend, especially Keigo, but somehow, he couldn't bring himself to do so this time. He was too busy processing seeing his face so clearly while worrying over how unbearably tired he appeared. 'Mh.'

Nico giggled over his stoic reply while Keigo looked away quickly. He spoke up: 'No thanks. I prefer to be behind the camera.'

'Aw, man,' Kanshi exclaimed as he settled his head back against the couch. 'If I had your looks, I'd totally earn some extra cash through modelling. Pick up some cute girls. Stuff like that.'

'Kan! You're totally pretty, too!' Nico exclaimed, rushing over to Kanshi's side to fuss over him, the sheet mask package left half-torn on the floor.

Morihito sighed and walked over to Keigo, sitting down in front of him. 'Let me,' he said, as he dabbed some toner on a cotton pad and cleaned his friend's face. He tried not to stare at the otherwise hidden features, but it was hard. Nico was right. Keigo is really pretty. He figured that if he had a haircut, he'd easily gain a bunch of new subscribers to his channel. His snobbish cinephile persona would be much more tolerable to viewers if they had something, or someone, to look at. Keigo definitely was easy on the eyes. Instead, Morihito said: 'You look tired.'

'I like looking unapproachable.'

'Mhm…' Morihito tore open the rest of the packaging and gently took out the mask. He applied it to Keigo's face, his thumb pressing around his temple and nose to make it sit nicely against his skin. 'You can just wear makeup instead of tiring yourself out, then.'

Keigo looked up at him, eyes softening fleetingly. 'I'm not tiring myself out,' he muttered.

'Mhm.'

Nico's attention snapped back to Keigo, so Morihito leaned back to give them space. 'You look totes cute, Keigo! Let's take a picture together.' Before he could object, Nico sat down next to him, the shutter of her phone camera going off. Morihito smiled softly at the sight of blush showing up through the thin, white sheet mask on his friend's otherwise bored face. He dropped his smile quickly when he heard the shutter go off again, noticing he was in the second picture. 'Aww, you look like you're having such a great time, Moi!'

At that, Morihito moved back to where he was sitting previously, feeling more flustered than he should have been. This really wasn't the best time to get Keigo to open up. Some, like Nico, might have felt more secure admitting any issues to their friends. But Keigo? He didn't appear to have that inclination at all. Morihito didn't have it either, so at least he could sympathise with him.

Still. Tonight. He had to pry more tonight.

And so, Morihito hung around in the living room until everyone finally retired to their bedrooms, skin glowing and nails manicured.

He spent his sweet time cleaning up, picking discarded face masks out of crumpled-up chip bags, and recycling everything accordingly. He was thorough but swift, drawing it out even though he could have easily tackled the entire room in under ten minutes. He wanted everyone to be sound asleep and confront Keigo at a time that felt appropriately late for him to express his worry. So when Morihito was done cleaning, he decided to do the laundry as well. But at one point, while folding handkerchiefs, he dozed off.

It felt like waking up from a coma, rather than a long nap. He blinked countless times before he managed to glance at the digital clock across the room. 3:33 AM. As he propped himself up, his hands grazed the soft blanket on top of him. Despite how dazed he was, he was sure he hadn't covered himself before falling asleep. He neatly folded the blanket, put it away, and went to turn on the lights.

The laundry basket was gone, and the kitchen was just a bit messier than before, only noticeable because Morihito had spent all that time cleaning everything.

Ignoring these small changes, he shuffled towards his bedroom, stopping dead in his tracks when he noticed the light coming from under Keigo's door. It was later than the other times Morihito had noticed his friend being awake. At least he hadn't lost his chance to confront him about it.

With a deep sigh, he went to open the door.

'Keigo,' Morihito spoke, voice raspy from sleep.

In front of his laptop sat Keigo, back arched, shoulders slumping, and eye bags accentuated by the blue light radiating off the screen. He didn't even turn his head to look at Morihito, as if he were in a trance. All he got as a way of reassurance that his friend hadn't turned into a mindless zombie was a quick grunt, while his finger clicked away on the computer mouse.

Not much of a reassurance.

Another sigh escaped Morihito as he softly clicked the door shut behind him and went to stand next to Keigo's desk. 'You should get some sleep.' He watched the screen, the editing software he had recommended a while back, working overtime on another boring film analysis slash pessimistic personal rant YouTube video.

'Mhm.'

Morihito gently shook Keigo's shoulder. Judging from the slight wince that followed, his own sleepiness made for a lack of control over his strength, probably having squeezed a bit too hard. He almost pulled back, but decided this was no time to run. He took one of Keigo's arms and pulled him up and away from the desk, until their legs hit the couch. His friend seemed barely conscious, just staring out into the room.

The room was very Keigo, with collectables adorning every shelf or wall space. It was a hobby they shared, collecting their personal niches, but Morihito was keen on minimalism and storing his interests away. Just being in Keigo's room, especially at night, felt overwhelming, and he had only been there for under two minutes. It felt suffocating, and it wasn't hard to see why his friend never seemed to sleep well, or at all.

'Keigo. It's late. You look exhausted.'

'I'm fine.' He sounded anything but fine.

Morihito balled his fist, senseless anger rising in him. He didn't get angry easily, and the unexpected feeling left a weight in his gut. But he couldn't control it, not when someone he cared so deeply for was clearly abandoning his well-being. 'Keigo. If you cannot take care of yourself, then you can't take care of Nico.'

Keigo finally looked at him, something seeping through his nonchalant expression. 'What are you on about?'

'And if you can't take care of Nico, then you're useless as a familiar. In that case, I would have to ask you to leave.'

It was easy not to catch the slight hitch of his breath or the tensing muscle in his neck, but Morihito's eyes had been fixed closely on his friend, senses sharp. He noticed everything, from the worryingly dark eye bags under his eyes contrasting with the glowing soft skin, to these emerging signs of anxiety. It's what made Morihito not take it to heart when Keigo swiftly stood up and said, 'Guess I'll pack my bags then.'

Despite his words, Keigo didn't take a step to act upon them. And when Morihito reached out to grab his hand, he felt the rest of his arm grow nearly limp at the gesture.

They stayed like that for almost a minute, both boys unsure where to go from there. Morihito wasn't planning on giving up on making his friend open up to him, but Keigo didn't seem to have the words, or the energy, to talk about what was keeping him up. So when the silence became too awkward to bear, Morihito pulled him into a comforting embrace. Keigo's eyes widened comically at the gesture, uncertain how to act, before allowing his features to soften and nestling his face against Morihito's chest. 'So sleepy …' he muttered.

'Of course you are, idiot.' He rested his chin on Keigo's crown, rubbing his back absentmindedly. 'Let's get you to bed.'

'It's no use.'

'Not this again—'

'I just can't fall asleep. I need to tire myself out beyond exhaustion, and even then, I can't sleep without some kind of white noise. Just can't. I'm broken. It's fine. Nothing you can do.' Keigo sighed and pulled away from Morihito, who immediately mourned the loss of warmth. One more minute and he was sure to have fallen asleep while standing, the embrace far too comforting than he was used to.

Morihito followed up the sigh with one of his own. 'I wouldn't be able to sleep well here, either.'

'What?'

He pointed at the walls. 'It's cluttered. You fall asleep staring at film posters portraying desolate landscapes and cut-off limbs. You probably dream about being thrown down a dune or having your head cut off again and again. Don't even get me started about the amount of blue light you absorb in here every day. The least you could do is invest in good anti-blue light glasses if you're going to be editing this late at night. Your desk is two steps away from your bed, so you might as well be asleep at your desk. It also doesn't help that you sneak in a bag of chips just about every night. I empty the bins, you know. I can tell. It's far too late for your metabolism to break down all that fat—'

'Alright. I get it, Dad,' Keigo said with no real irritability.

'What I'm trying to say is … you're not broken. You just need a change of routine and to clean your room.'

In this moment, Morihito realised just how much he sounded like a parent.

Keigo looked as if he wanted to argue back, but parted his lips barely enough for a whistle to pass through before giving up on any retort. 'Why do you care so much anyway?'

'Because this is my home and I care for those in it,' Morihito spoke before quickly glancing away and adding: 'And … you're special to me.'

'Special how? A special case? I bet—'

Keigo is taken aback as Morihito pulls him into another hug, this time a little tighter, as if neither were allowed to flee. They fit together awkwardly, the ogre holding him like an inanimate object. It's nothing like Nico's hugs—frequent and delicate. Nothing like Kanshi's, either: his are like bear hugs, usually accompanied with a teasing rub on the crown of the head. Morihito was the worst hugger of them all, but somehow, Keigo found himself burying his face deeper and deeper into his chest.

'Stay in my room tonight?' Morihito breathed out.

Once more, words of protest bubbled up in his throat to ultimately be replaced by a defeated yet partially grateful sigh. He nodded against his friend.

Morihito led Keigo to his room, leaving the chaotic cinephile nest alone, at least until the morning. They tiptoed through the quiet hallway, past Nico and Kanshi's rooms, trying not to wake them. It almost felt as if they were doing something they weren't supposed to. Something wrong. Taboo. It was only someone taking care of their friend, and it shouldn't have felt this way, but for some reason, Morihito's hands were shaking slightly.

'Take the bed,' Morihito said softly when he clicked the door shut behind him. Keigo opened his mouth to protest, but was immediately stopped. 'Just take it. You need it more than me.'

Keigo sat down. 'Thanks. I don't think I can, though.'

'You can't what?'

'Take your bed. If you're that kind to me, I'll probably end up feeling so guilty, I won't be able to sleep anyway. Waste of a bed, if you ask me.'

Morihito highly doubted that. Considering the colour and size of his friend's eyebags, he would be surprised if he wasn't asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. But a little voice kept nagging him to find a way to put his friend at ease, even if it felt a little uneasy at the same time. 'Alright. Move over.'

He crawled into bed with Keigo, knees bumping under the covers as he began to pull it over them.

'This is weird,' Keigo said, without moving away.

'Yeah.' It shouldn't have felt weird. They were friends. Housemates. They might have shared a futon at a school or camping trip, or shared shoulders on a long bus ride. It wasn't as if they wanted to lie side by side like this. Not really. And even if they did, it was only human. Or, well, ogre-werewolf solidarity, Morihito supposed.

They lay in silence for a little while. Keigo's eyes constantly fell closed before he forced them open again, as if he had to be ready for anything.

No wonder this paranoid guy can't sleep, Morihito thought. 'Go to sleep.'

'Can you not face me while we're this close?'

It had only felt normal for them to face each other. The beds in the house weren't that big, and both their shoulders were rather broad. They had to save space. 'Why?'

'I told you. It's weird,' Keigo said before yawning.

'Sleep.'

'No.'

'Sleep.'

'I told you—'

This man was going to be the death of him, or at the very least, the reason for a sleep deprivation arc of his own.

'Sleep.'

Morihito expected his friend to continue his stubborn dance, but instead, he finally kept quiet. It didn't take long before he was out cold, head against the ogre's chest. It did take a while, however, for Morihito to realise that his heart palpitations weren't a sign of an unexpected impending death but rather something more uncomfortable. It was a surprising feeling for someone who had kept his heart closed off entirely until he met Nico, and even after, wasn't the most emotionally open person.

Surely, this would pass quickly.

It was a heartwarming sight, seeing the sleep-deprived werewolf nuzzle into his shirt, letting out contented sighs. He couldn't help but chuckle at how his friend had insisted that he was unable to sleep. There was no white noise playing here, and yet, it seemed to be no problem at all. The digital clock showed an hour when no one ought to be awake, but it was most likely the earliest Keigo had slept in weeks. Morihito never reached that level of sleep deprivation, even when he had been sick with worry over something. It was hard to sympathise when one didn't relate. He hoped that, maybe, this could be a new start for his friend.

Selfishly, though, he hoped Keigo would turn to him again to sleep. Not because he needed it but because he wanted to. Morihito slid his fingers through the long hair. How he was going to hate it when morning came, and this feeling was physically taken from him.

What was wrong with him?

'Goodnight, Keigo,' he whispered, closing his eyes and resting his chin back on his crown.

The next morning, it was as if the entire world shifted, with only Morihito and Keigo there to witness it. Everyone else easily noticed a difference. Nico attributed Keigo's slight but sudden glow-up to her self-care night idea. Kanshi noticed the slightly upturned corners of Morihito's mouth. But neither of them could place exactly what had caused these changes, just like neither of them noticed the subtle glances their two roommates began exchanging from that moment onwards.