romeo's fake sister x jerry

Like playing a harp, he plucked at a string to see if it remained solid or would fade into the obscurity of fate, and watched as it dissolved into gold, twinkling away into his mind. Too many possibilities, then, in this one moment. A thousand ways this could go.

What could go?

"Hoshibami."

He recognized the room, at least. It was difficult through the layers, but he knew where he was, that he'd been here before several times. He could feel his body responding on instinct, moving and speaking in a rehearsed pantomime. So he'd been here before, but he'd also done this before. One of the loops, then. That explained why everything was so much worse. It wasn't just the possibilities for this scenario, but all the different potential outcomes of every loop that had come before. How many times had he been here?

"Taiga."

That was his name. Something familiar through the strings, something to focus on through the layers. He was speaking, but his own voice was distorted as he listened, clawing his way through the layers. The voice was insistent, familiar...important.

It was something that had remained a constant through countless timelines, someone he could count on to be there in every iteration.

A few possibilities flashed through his mind, ruby eyes or lavender hair or a bright, cackling laugh. But this voice felt warm, bright, covered in a layer of cold meant to hide the feelings from the world.

"I told you it wasn't worth having him at this meeting, he's never fully present anyways."

Taiga came to on one side of a table, leg thrown up over the arm of a chair he was lounging in, Romeo's fingers digging half moons through his shirt and into the skin of his shoulder.

Across the table was Jin, already turning away under his ridiculous cape that both reminded everyone of his station but hid his weariness from prying eyes. A study in clashing extremes, Taiga thinks, discrepancies and genuine want all hidden under the same cold layer.

"They were irises," Taiga says out loud, and everyone around the table turned to look at him. Everyone but one. So he spoke again. "Purple. Her favorite. The vase cracked right up the side."

Tohma, to Jin's right, was already rustling, the boisterous boaster full of hot air and words that tasted like poison, but Taiga didn't look at him. Taiga stared directly at Jin as he turned back around, blue eyes slicing through the air to look at him, cut through him. Every one of Jin's gazes was a threat, an action held with the promise of violence should something go wrong. Taiga missed being at the point of the sword, pinned down by an icy gaze and cold hands that held him like a life raft in the middle of the sea. He missed the way they were both drowning, together, but somehow it had never felt like an end.

Jin's eyes stared into him, and Taiga could see it in the minute expressions as Jin realized he was lucid, that he'd come up for air. Was that...relief? Romeo must have seen it as well, because his hand was holding him tighter, possessive in the way he usually got when someone else looked at Taiga like they knew him.

"I'm unsure of what flower arrangements have to do with the upcoming mission--" Tohma started, and Taiga immediately tuned him out as he continued. It wasn't important anyways. He could see Jin putting the pieces together. He was always smart, only a couple steps behind because Taiga had the forseer's advantage, but had matched him step for step in strength and intelligence. He'd never had the balls to pull off some of the stunts Taiga did, but that was why they had worked well together: Taiga would do the crazy thing that needed done, and Jin was strong and smart enough to clean up any loose ends.

Like now, when Jin knew why Taiga was bringing up his mother's funeral bouquet. Or one of, anyways. Because it had been one of the few moments recently where they had spoken instead of getting right to the 'missing you' business that left him breathless and Jin covered in scratches, when Taiga was himself and Jin was honest, and both were such rare events that it had to have been chance in order for it to happen.

"It was an accident," Jin said, interrupting whatever Tohma was saying. The room turned to look at him, but Jin was staring at Taiga, pissed off and annoyed but running underneath it all was something sad and small, the only tell Taiga would get that Jin missed him just as much.

"Look at the way the security tapes line up with the roster. The shifts in the guard. This wasn't planned, it was human error." Jin finally looked away, turning those ice blue eyes on the mission report in front of him, showing the other ghouls and faculty what he meant. Taiga watched as everyone leaned in to listen to the once and future king, to he who was destined to lead the world from darkness. Or was that King Arthur? All kings were the same, anyways. Kings had nothing on destiny, she who wove with abandon and recklessness.

"You could've told me you knew all along," Lulu hissed in his ear, and Taiga patted his hand haphazardly, eyes growing lazy while he watched the papers shuffle.

"It was a royal flush, not a straight," he replied cryptically, and watched Jin's gaze snap to his again. Another clue he would understand when the time was right. But the timelines were overlapping again, curtains of possibility closing on stage. Jin could see it, too, and Taiga didn't miss the flicker of sadness in his eyes.

But it was fine. This moment would come around again, and maybe Taiga would wake up sooner next time. Maybe he'd pull the strings right and help them all.

It was impossible to look at Taiga now and not compare him to the Hoshibami he had met two years prior. The captain of Sinostra sat across the table from him, one leg thrown up over the arm of the chair while the other held his chin lazily, blank eyes roaming the table full of information like it was one of the mundane classes they were forced to take at Darkwick.

He was leaner, now. The muscles rippled in his forearms like there was barely enough skin on him, like he hadn't had a real meal consistently in weeks. His hair looked as if it had been forced into something manageable, most likely by his vice captain, standing at his shoulder. Where Romeo was a barely contained, cool ball of rage in front of the other ghouls, Taiga was a mat that had been rolled in, just another piece of furniture shoved where it was useful.

And Jin knew all about that, didn't he?

Cursing himself under his breath, Jin forced himself to look away from Taiga. Their tryst weeks ago had been an accident, just pent up energy from two hotheaded ghouls who literally didn't know how to let the past go. Clearly neither of them had any sense, especially now that he was seeing just how close by Lucci was standing.

With Tohma on his right, he couldn't say anything more on the matter without becoming an even bigger hypocrite.

But that was always how it'd been with them, hadn't it? Taiga had reflected back every one of Jin's traits he'd lacked, was a mirror to every shortcoming of character. When they fought, it was like fighting with himself--if his reflection had fire in his eyes inside of ice. The Taiga he had met in his first year was loud, and constantly moving, and had the candor of a carnie while explaining his tricks and proving he'd been right all along. The more naive Jin was quiet and reserved, saving his words for orders to the peasants below him and insults to the ones he was surrounded with.

Taiga was a crackling wildfire, clearing the forest of anything that stood in his way. Jin was the long winter that followed, keeping the dead soil quiet.

But the red haired ghoul across from him now was an empty hearth compared to who he had been last year. Once again, Jin's eyes were drawn from the briefing and back to Taiga, who was staring ahead like he was looking at something else entirely. That blank look had been a constant over the past year, hollow and dull since the clash. Jin had rarely seen him since then, but he'd seen the few pictures his and Tohma's informants had managed to capture. Something had changed him, something was wrong. The old Taiga wasn't there anymore, and the fire had gone out.

"Hoshibami," one of the staff prompted, gesturing to the table. "This was taken in the casino on one of the nights you were there. Do you remember anything?"

Taiga's dull eyes barely blinked, and in a monotone, he responded, "I remember the most boring game of blackjack of my life."

The staff member hesitated, confused by the answer. Clearly they hadn't sent someone who knew what to do with Taiga. Jin rolled his eyes, taking half a step forward.

"Taiga."

Tohma shifted awkwardly next to him, noticing at the same time Jin did that as he had spoken, Romeo had moved his hand to Taiga's shoulder, gripping it tightly. Romeo held Jin's gaze for a moment, the beautiful face stretching into a snarl, but Taiga spoke again before he could speak.

"Are we seriously still on about this? It was nothing but pairs all night." His hand flapped dismissively. "No real winnings there."

Faced with the option of yelling at his captain in front of the other ghouls, Romeo instead chose to antagonize a different target. "If the EITS didn't pick up anything, then this BTH wouldn't have either! Clearly the fault was not with my casino."

Tohma crossed his arms in front of him, one finger daintily going up to adjust his monocle. "I told you it wasn't worth having him at this meeting, he's never fully present anyways."

The instinct to defend Taiga flared up and was shoved down in the same moment. Jin turned away from the table, ready to retreat back to his room and remove himself from this situation that didn't even involve him. Why was he here? Some misplaced nostalgia for something that would never be the same?

"They were irises."

The room was silent, but Jin felt it as his heart skipped a beat, stopped, and started again with the next sentence.

"Purple. Her favorite. The vase cracked right up the side."

How did he remember--

Jin whipped around, and he could feel the snarl on his face at the mention of his mother, but then he looked at Taiga and--

And his eyes--

He deflated a moment later, something warm swirling through his chest and replacing the anger and hurt. Taiga's eyes stared right back at him, yellow and glowing and bright as the sun. Different than how they'd been seconds ago, full of life and sharp as his own sword. What had changed? Had Taiga's mind suddenly cleared? He had his suspicions, that something was going on that was preventing Taiga from thinking clearly, and it would explain why his eyes were dull and glossed over most of the time. Drugs, maybe, with how lean he was. Alcohol. Mental degradation due to eating a demon's soul.

But here was the proof otherwise: Taiga staring at him with a fire in his eyes and a curve to his lips that reminded him of last year, of the year before, of the times when Taiga had been so full of life it was watching a universe be born with every step.

Relief. What he was feeling was relief.

Why bring up his mother? No one had known. It was Jin's grief to bear alone. Tohma hadn't even known until Jin told him, until his calculating mind put it together with the flowers and the extended darkness in his room with curtains drawn.

But Taiga knew. Taiga always knew. Taiga had always known everything before anyone else, and it infuriated Jin to no end in the beginning. Taiga had shown up the night of her funeral, quiet and observant on his balcony, eyes sharp and watching until Jin had exploded.

It was always an explosion between them.

And then his words kicked in, Jin's brain catching up with where he was. Only a second or two had passed, and he was back to focusing on the mission, to solving whatever the hell Darkwick was presenting them with now. As always, one infuriatingly simple hint from Taiga had been enough to point him in the right direction. He bent over the table, pointing out the irregularities in the notes, but couldn't stop himself from looking up at Taiga one more time.

He was fading again. Taiga's eyes were half shut, the glow slowly leaking from the yellow and leaving them an acid green. Gone was the fire-bright captain he had fallen for years before; in its place was a hollow mask of a man, trapped in a cage with only brief breaches of clarity.

Romeo stood next to him, gripping his shoulder hard enough to wrinkle his shirt, and Tohma stood next to Jin, the ever present wall of support. If they weren't in better hands, at least they were in ones more capable to deal with them. Hands that would deescalate, hands that would hold instead of scratch, soothe instead of ignite.

Jin hadn't felt warm in weeks.

Taiga stared back at him, cryptic clues on his lips, like Jin was the one destined to solve the puzzle.