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Urie and Mutsuki had a conversation, half-remembered and long ago, about fear. At the time, Urie remembered being an unwilling participant. Emotions we not his forte.
He suspected Mutsuki started it because he knew that.
He knew Urie didn’t have fears like his. He let Urie feel strong while still learning to empathize (Mutsuki was too good for them…maybe that’s why he was gone). It was such a waste - Urie felt like he hadn’t learned a thing.
Mutsuki’s fears were strange twisting things. There were shadows in his world where someone like Urie would see nothing amiss (warm water, wet fabric, parental affection, and the soft roundness of his own cheeks).
“I’ve always been afraid,”
Mutsuki had said,
“Of having to borrow clothing from someone else.”
Urie had stared at him flatly, his slow shitty brain refusing to think for itself for one goddamn second, and had prompted him to continue.
“My clothes are important to me. They need to be mine.”
Now that Mutsuki was gone, Urie had to wonder if his captor had taken away his clothes (his ability to feel like himself). If there would be a proper binder waiting for Mutsuki with the rescue team. If they would bring him clothing opaque enough to hide the scarring that crisscrossed his torso.
Going through the laundry at the Chateau, Urie found every loose piece that belonged to Mutsuki. He built an outfit from worn jeans, a black sweater, and a binder almost too stretched out to be useful (the seams were ripped. He asked Saiko to repair them and wished his fingers were as dexterous as Sasaki’s).
He put his own socks into the pile and frowned. Something was missing (he wouldn’t put his own in there…it would be wrong).
Embarrassed and unsure of himself, Urie approached Suzuya Juuzou about his ‘project’. His attempt at an explanation was humiliating (he was pretty sure some of Suzuya’s squad had laughed. Bastards). When he was done, Suzuya’s expression didn’t even twitch, however.
“Of course,”
They chirped, patting Urie on the back,
“Head right on upstairs.”
When he finally left, outfit complete with ugly fruit-print boxers (clearly purchased by Sasaki…strange that they could still be considered ‘Mutsuki’s’), Urie let his thoughts wander.
Were clothes important to Suzuya as well? They always transitioned so easily between styles…
Then again, Suzuya never tightened their tie. Whenever they were dressed as Rei there were knives covering practically every inch of their person (lining the inner thighs so heavily they looked like a porcupine)…
Mutsuki saw shadows that Urie never could. If it was the same for Suzuya, he would never understand. He could only be polite enough not to probe.
Still…
If Mutsuki didn’t want to be touched by his hands (they clenched in the heavy fabric of the sweater) or seen by his eyes (squeezed shut against the thought), Suzuya could at least give him Urie’s gift. He was sure that could be a comfort at least.
These were shadows that he knew about, even if he didn’t understand.
(It didn’t ever occur to him that Mutsuki told him about those shadows. That he trusted Urie with him. That maybe he wanted to talk to someone about his fears)