Chapter Text
The wind never stopped shrieking on Izuru’s island. It was a constant, ever-present element that defined the space, a cat’s tail that would whip sea spray into faces blanched from a sky that seemed forever overcast. Clouds undulated to the beat of frothy waves that blanketed over a shoreline that couldn’t decide on if it wanted to be sand or gravel and just settled on being a slurry in-between.
“Make the clouds move a bit more, Izzy,” Hajime had told zir, “and if you can, add something other than birds. Maybe it’ll make it less depressing?”
A crab, its amber chitlin shining, crawled in front of Izuru’s path. It didn’t stop until it was under the shelter of an upturned boulder, its legs flashing in the shadows.
Izuru watched it go. Zie savored the crumb of interest it gave zir. Hajime was right. Little bits of simulated fauna helped more than zie could have ever imagined.
Zie felt the surf stretch in and slosh over zir feet. The water was glacial, even the foam pricked like ice. Izuru didn’t flinch, not even with the water splashed and soaked into the gossamer thin lace of zir dress and made it turn into a floppy and dead weight burden.
The shoreline of Jansson’s false island was less than ideal for a stroll, too craggy and messy, but Izuru didn’t mind. Zie tiptoed and picked zir way over gnashed-up rocks like a crane steps through a river, with all the grace that implied.
Zir hair flew behind zir like the tail of a comet. Izuru liked how the weight of it pulled at zir scalp. It helped keep zir thoughts calm instead of dull.
Something strange was going on outside of Hajime’s brain, a kind of electric stinging that made Izuru feel giddy. It had been like that ever since the world had shifted and settled as it did every time that Hajime woke up or went to sleep.
Time was fluid where Izuru was, buried deep within the folds of a permanently wounded brain. Izuru knew more what had gone on during Hajime’s prior day than zie did with the present. Some things stood out, usually the things that made Hajime feel the most.
Something involving Makoto had transpired, and that was the something that was making the cognitive plane thrum like the inner workings of a hornet’s nest. It always put Izuru on edge, whether out of concern or something else, zie wasn’t sure.
A gull cried out as it swept over zir head and out to the sea. Izuru stopped to watch it fade into the horizon, its wings crooked like fishbone ribs.
Izuru could feel the corners of zir lips tick up. Lately zie had been noticing new behaviors like that. Smiling to zirself was new. It had a strange and wobbly feel to it.
Zie found that zie liked it, even it was irrational.
The wind seemed to corkscrew as it shifted. It blew tresses of Izuru’s hair towards zir face and whipped them around zir chest. Little sudden changes like that were indicators. In the library, the ground would shake. In the greenhouse, the roof would canyon out and flatten. Every pocket had its idiosyncrasies; this one meant that Hajime had fallen asleep.
There was no sense to be had in wasting time. Izuru breathed deep, reached, and pulled. Just a quick yank of the webbing. Zie had gotten better at it over the last couple of years, to the point where the process was nearly seamless.
A whistle of air, the rank stench of sea rot, and with only a second’s pause Hajime was there at zir side.
He stumbled against the uneven terrain, righted himself, and rubbed his temple with a routine grumble. “Sheesh, you didn’t waste any time, huh?” he asked, but not unkindly. He looked at Izuru with a tired grin. “Hey, Iz.”
“Hello, Hajime.” Izuru tried on a smile of zir own. No teeth. Just a flex of facial muscles. It was an effort, but it must have been worth something. “Apologies, should I have waited?”
“Nah, you’re fine. It’s good to see you.” Hajime’s good-natured expression seemed to drain away as he glanced down. “Your dress is soaked through,” he chided. “Aren’t you cold?”
“The tide catches it sometimes.” Izuru could feel the fabric pasting to zir legs, the frills at the end dripping a halo of a puddle about zir feet. “And it’s a bit cold, yes, but that’s by design. Being grounded in realism keeps away a feeling of uncanniness.”
Hajime sighed and shrugged. “Alright, alright. Suit yourself. I’m just worried.”
“For what? That I’ll get sick?” Izuru reached behind zir neck and bundled up the mass of zir hair between both hands. “Constructs can’t catch pneumonia, Hajime.” Hooking zir hair over zir shoulder, zie worked zir fingers through the strands, fingers snagging at windborne tangles. “Seems as if you have enough to be concerned over as-is.”
“You never miss a beat, huh?”
“Only because I can sense your anxiety.” Izuru took a few steps forward, waited for Hajime to follow, and kept on, zir hands never leaving zir hair. “Sometimes it’s clear why, sometimes it isn’t. Were you speaking with Naegi?” Zie side-stepped the surf as it washed in with a few delicate steps to the right. “Is he there?”
Hajime maneuvered over the rocky shoreline in a bumbling sort of way, his feet stepping over small hollowed tide pools and pebbles like they were mines. “No, no. It was a video call. He hasn’t been to Jabberwock in… hell, three years? Four?” He half-tripped over a dip in the sand and righted himself with a sharp curse. “Not since he and Togami came in to tell us in-person that our records weren’t any closer to being expunged.”
“You don’t like him,” Izuru said. Zie kept zir pace slow to allow for Hajime to stay close. “I can tell.”
“That obvious, huh?” Hajime’s laugh was bitter. “No mind reading for that?”
Izuru felt a pang of something that could have been described as ‘hurt’. It was new, as emotions went. Zie would have to think on it later. “I haven’t done that since you instructed me not to. Being linked means that there’s bleed over I cannot control. I perceive your emotions and critical events throughout your days, but I do not pry into your thoughts. Not anymore.” Zie roved zir hands through the full lengths of zir hair, right down to the split ends.
Zie flinched when zie felt Hajime take hold of zir shoulder. He had stopped walking, and the hold held Izuru back and forced zir to turn and face the wrinkled stress lines on Hajime’s forehead.
“This okay?” he asked.
Izuru nodded and looked back to the ocean, anywhere but eye contact.
“Sorry, that was out of line. I wasn’t, you know… being accusatory, you know?” Hajime sighed. “I trust you, Iz. I hope you know that.”
“I know, though I’ll never understand why.” Izuru watched the tide crest, pull, and push to shore. “Though that’s neither here nor there. You’re on edge.” Mustering zir moxie, zie looked back at Hajime in the eye. “Is it the scenery? Would being somewhere different help?”
Hajime didn’t reply for a moment, which was fine with Izuru. Time was fluid. Zie never minded waiting, and waiting with company was a rare treat.
Finally, just as another blast of air fluttered at their clothes and the surf rushed to their feet, Hajime spoke.
“It’d be nice to not be on an island.”
Izuru thought zie could hear the smallest of vocal cracks in that admission, or maybe the wind had just distorted Hajime’s voice in zir ears. It was frustrating to not know which. Regardless, the solution was clear.
“Would it be okay if I took you someplace new?” Izuru asked. Zie swept zir hair back over zir shoulder and held out zir hands, palms upward. “I just finished it. It’s about as far from a beach as one can get, though it does involve an island of sorts.”
“Of sorts?” Hajime chuckled, but it lacked its usual compassion and warmth. It was tired. Fragmented. “Alright, I trust you.” He took up Izuru’s hands in a light grip, thumbs gently pressing the sides of zir wrists. “Where to?”
“Primrose Hill.” Izuru marveled at their hands, with Hajime’s thick and calloused and Izuru’s soft and pliant. Different. It was something that always struck zir as odd, and zie was sure that Hajime was just as intrigued by it.
When Izuru glanced back up at Hajime’s face, zie saw that his eyes were already closed. Zie hadn’t had to instruct him on that step for a long, long time now. Realizing that made another pang of something knock through zir chest. It felt like the hurt from earlier, but different. Less caustic.
“Izzy?” Without opening his eyes, Hajime squeezed zir hands. “Ready when you are.”
Izuru shook zir head and squeezed back, just by a little. “Right.”
Without another word, zie summoned the wind that would take them off.
And the island, with its dilapidated cabin and grubby shoreline, rested in silence once more.