Chapter Text
Leaks does not particularly care for the clock on the inside of his wrist.
It’s annoying, in all honesty, that he has to obey its every whim because of how, oh, how wonderful it would be to meet his soulmate, how utterly head over heels he would fall. How grossly in love he would be as soon as he laid eyes on them. He cares little for the numbers ticking down on his skin, the calligraphic numbers sliding from ones to zeros and back to nines again. He’s been taught which ones represent months and weeks, days and hours, minutes and seconds and even years. At this certain moment in time, his year counter has slipped down to a steady zero, and so has his month counter. There’s still a week and four days left, as well as three hours, forty-six minutes and twenty seconds.
Yet Leaks doesn’t find himself enthused. If any of his classmates from high school were here, they’d be ranting and raving about how Leaks of all people was going to fall victim to a college romance, as the spring semester was only a little over a week away. It wasn’t like he asked for this, though. It wasn’t like he even wanted a soulmate-- he could take care of himself, thank you very much!
Maybe that was the loophole. Maybe his soulmate was the one in need of saving? Maybe his soulmate was the damsel in distress in this situation; it sure as hell couldn’t be the other way around, anyway. At these thoughts, Leaks shakes his head to clear his mind-- what kind of boring stereotype was he, thinking he’d ride in on a white horse to save his soulmate from their demise? Please, could he be any more disgusting?
At least, those were the intrusive ideas plaguing him a week and a half ago. He’d already met his first few professors (an elderly man with a slow, monotone voice, yet what seemed to be a quick wit lay beneath his tongue; a younger man fresh out of college himself, stumbling over long words and technical jargon in an attempt to make himself seem older; and a lady somewhere in her fifties or sixties, with a pair of gold-trimmed bifocals on a chain around her neck as well as fake diamond earrings dripping from her earlobes) and they had all seemed somewhat sane, so he had slightly higher than standard hopes for this semester. It’s only Tuesday, though, so he forces himself to take a breather and quit being overzealous.
That morning consisted of two classes before one in the afternoon, and as the day wanes on Leaks feels himself not getting excited, but rather relieved that his classmates and his professors don’t seem to be batshit on the surface, at least. Last semester had been a nightmare marked by an overly individualistic young lady who could not seem to contain her own psychological “talents” when it came to Leaks and a couple other people in his class. It hadn’t even been a course about mental health, to boot. He exhales as a shiver runs down his spine-- it had gotten to a point towards the end of the fall semester that he was pretty sure he’d have to drop the class before he finished just to escape her psychoanalystic wrath. He pays little to no attention to the hours and minutes left on his timer, ticking down so silently.
There’s only twelve minutes left when he traverses the campus to get to his next and final class of the day. Leaks doesn’t realize it, of course, as his sweater covers his hands up to his knuckles just the way he likes it, blinding him from the inky digits slipping into nothingness. Four minutes are still hanging by a thread when he enters the building where his class is located, and ten seconds slide by with the tap of his fingertip on the elevator up button. Thirty-five more are gone by the time he reaches the fourth floor, the top of the building aside from the roof.
He walks into the room with only twenty seconds even left, after wandering aimlessly around the tiny, west end portion of the building for the better part of three minutes. He takes a seat somewhere in the middle of the classroom, close to one of the huge windows encompassing practically the entire left wall with a lovely view of the courtyard, where Leaks can see people conversing over splintered picnic tables, swarming in and out of the entrance and exit both, and simply sitting on the grass, sunbathing in their street clothes.
The timer hits zero as Leaks continues to watch them in blissful ignorance, toying with the end of his braid as he does so, but he turns his head back towards where the door stands when he feels someone’s gaze pricking the back of his neck for what feels like barely a second.
There, standing in the doorway, is what Leaks estimates to be a junior, surrounded by two girls and a boy on either side asking him about how his winter vacation has been. He can barely hear their inane conversation over the milling of the rest of the classroom, shuffling to seats, and the muffled sounds of the outside world, but for some reason, he strains his ears to listen, out of sheer boredom if nothing else. The junior seems to turn his head to someone at his right as soon as Leaks looks over, giving the impression their gaze had caught on him for a moment, but Leaks dismisses the idea immediately-- he doesn’t even know this person.
The first thing he notices, though, is their hair, fiery red and knotted loosely into a long braid (nowhere near Leaks’s extent, of course) tucked over their shoulder, with strands falling artfully around their face like a flaming picture frame. He has a thick beige scarf tossed over his shoulders, and looks to be toying with the fringed ends of it as he talks to the group of people gathered around him. If Leaks actually knew the guy, he’d say he looked uncomfortable; he doesn’t, though, so he just sits and watches.
If the timer had a tone to it, it’d be buzzing louder than a wasp, but alas. Instead Leaks just watches the group at the doorway mindlessly, leaning his cheek into the palm of his hand until the professor walks in and forces the students to disperse to their seats, oblivious.
Later that night when he’s undressing for bed, he spares a glance at his wrist. Instead of being panicked about not noticing, however, Leaks’s first thought is good riddance. He takes his time unravelling his braid that night, removing his earrings and placing them by his modest little jewelry box next to the black elastic he’s used for his braid all this time, and even allows himself to use his good hairbrush straightening out his hair, the lucky one he uses when he feels he deserves it. Leaks sleeps better that night than he has in a while, ever since he’s learned his timer was winding down quicker than he was used to. Embraced by his sheets, he dreams of stargazing on clear nights and dark treetops, hanging high above his head.
Wednesday is just as much of a blur as Monday and Tuesday, though with less syllabi and introductions as most of his classes on Wednesdays met on Mondays and Fridays as well. Thursday is bound to feel the same, just like Friday will, Leaks believes, but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Routine is an easy thing for him to throw himself into when there’s something tickling at the back of his mind.
Unexpectedly, however, leaving the classroom Thursday he sees a familiar face. Shina meets his eyes at the same time he meets hers, and Leaks raises an eyebrow in surprise. “Leaks!” She exclaims, scurrying over to where he stands, then moving to the side of the hallway when he gestures her over to avoid being trampled by the upcoming horde of students. “How have you been?”
“I’m alright.” He lies. He isn’t just alright, he’s thriving. With that pesky clock out of the way, Leaks feels freed from some shitty destiny he hadn’t liked in the first place. “And you?”
She smiles overzealously at him, and though sometimes Shina’s smiles can feel like an animal baring their fangs at you, this one doesn’t. “I’ve been really great!” She says, looking ready to burst into a spiel of how perfect her professors are, how wonderful her classmates have been already, how she’s already made so many new friends, et cetera. Leaks isn’t miffed at this, though. It’s just Shina. “Have you decided if you’re joining any clubs yet? What classes are you taking? How are your professors?”
Leaks holds up his hands in faux defense. “Slow down.” He cracks a smile at her now pinkish cheeks. “They’re fine, a little weird, but nothing compared to Missus Freud.” Shina giggles at that-- she knows Leaks is talking about his fall semester freak professor, after all. “I’m just taking what my counselor recommended, too, so.”
“But haven’t you picked some electives?” She presses, looking interested. Leaks shrugs. “Not anything in particular.” He says, putting his hands in the pockets of his jacket and changing the subject from himself. “What have you been up to?”
Shina looks like she’s about to say something about his abrupt change in topic, but she seems to think better of it, and instead launches into the speech he knew she was bound to give of friendship, professors, and newfound relationships. Leaks listens calmly with a caring ear; anyone else he’d only half care for their words, but Shina is the best friend he’s had throughout his college career. He would miss her much more than anyone else if she were to leave.
However, before she can finish she’s interrupted by a discreet cough from her right, and her and Leaks look over to see the redheaded junior from class that day. “Shui!” She exclaims, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “Come here, come here-- this is Leaks, the one I’ve been telling you about!”
Leaks chuckles at Shina’s excitement. “Been talking about me behind my back, have you?” He jokes, laughing inwardly at Shina’s pout. “It’s expected that I talk about my best friend!” She retaliates, her cheeks pink. Leaks waves a hand at her. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
She blows a raspberry at him, then tugs the redheaded junior, the one she’d called Shui, into the conversation. “Anyway!” She starts, gesturing to the other. “This is Shui! Shui, this is Leaks!” She rushes through her words as if she’s embarrassed, and Leaks raises an eyebrow at her, but still sticks a hand out for Shui to shake. “Nice to meet you.” He says, with only as much politeness as he’d give to strangers. Shui takes it sheepishly, shaking gently. “A pleasure.” He replies, smiling warmly at Leaks. The latter feels heat rise to his face at Shui’s intimate expression, but he wills it away into neutrality. It’s at that moment that he notices Shui’s wrist, uncloaked by his cardigan, and the repeated zeroes lining it.
Shina seems to follow his gaze, and when she gets an eyeful of a stopped timer she nearly implodes. “SHUI!” She shouts at the top of her lungs, and Leaks sticks his fingers in his ears as Shui himself turns pink at the stares they get from the other students. “You didn’t tell me you met your soulmate!” She cries, clearly extremely excited for the details.
Shui’s ears turn red with embarrassment at Shina’s interest in his personal life. “Calm down.” Leaks says, rolling his eyes at her and flicking her on the forehead. She flinches, then pouts, bringing her voice down several decibels. “Whatever!” She sticks her tongue out at Leaks. “Who was it, though?!”
At this Shui rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I don’t actually, ah, know.” He admits, smiling abashedly. Shina’s jaw practically drops to the ground while Leaks barks out a laugh. “Seems we’re in the same club, then!” He jokes, shimmying his sleeve up to show his own set of no-numbers. Shina looks like she’s going to faint. “Leaks, not you too!” She whines. “Do you even know when it hit zero?!?”
He shrugs, a devilish smile playing across his lips. “Maybe a few days ago? I don’t know for sure.” Shina groans, rubbing her temples. “You two are going to kill me.” She mumbles, sighing. Shui laughs, clear as a bell, and Leaks joins in.
They all part minutes later, as all three have classes to get to afterwards. Leaks’s chest feels strangely tight as he waves goodbye to the other two, walking away in close proximity to one another.
He doesn’t sleep that night. Instead, he’s kept up with his thoughts, while wondering what kind of soulmate Shui would have. Probably someone equally bright and a bit more outgoing, to compliment his seemingly quiet nature. A pretty girl, with shorter hair than him, maybe hazel eyes. Someone like Shina, probably.
It’s with the image of the two walking away together, talking animatedly about something or the other, that Leaks finally succumbs to nightly slumber. He does not dream.
His classes go well for the rest of that week and the next, but even though it’s only been two weeks, going on three, Leaks feels like he hasn’t relaxed in months. It takes four days of nonstop pestering from Shina to get him to go anywhere-- she invites him out to a family restaurant, just for kicks. Leaks hopes their beer is good.
“So how have you been, other than your full-time lifestyle as a hermit?” Shina wonders aloud, and Leaks pinches her cheek. “Like you’re any better.” He says, and the waiter chooses that moment to show himself, so they put in their orders with Leaks’s fingers holding Shina hostage, as if it’s completely normal. “I have more friends than you, at least!” She says triumphantly, looking satisfied with herself. “Maybe online, yeah.” Leaks mutters, and Shina jabs a finger in his direction. “I heard that!”
They talk for what feels like hours, and it must have been, considering the sky has already spread an inky, navy blanket over itself by the time they step outside. “Hey, Leaks.” Shina says, before he turns in the opposite direction to walk back to his apartment. He perks his head up, looking her way as he buttons his coat up. “If you ever meet Shui’s soulmate,” she begins, a blush spreading steadily across her face as she speaks, “can you poison her for me?”
Leaks is dumbstruck for a moment, then he begins to laugh. Shina looks up at him with blazing eyes, but she hides them behind an irritated pout. “What’s so funny?” She snaps with as much venom as she can muster towards Leaks, which isn’t much to begin with. “You’re jealous?” He asks, wiping a tear from his eye as he states the obvious. Shina jumps, as if she’s somehow been caught red-handed despite looking like bull-prod. “So what if I am?” She mutters, crossing her arms in annoyance.
“Here’s the thing about soulmates, Shina.” Leaks says suddenly, the humor mostly gone from his voice. “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter!” He takes on a cynical tone, but sounds close to laughter again. “What if your soulmate is a dick? What if they’re a horrible person? What if they hate you to begin with?” He lists off the possibilities, all of which he’s contemplated late at night beforehand. “Having a soulmate isn’t a definitive way to have a lover. Hell, you probably have a better chance than any soulmate Shui might have, he doesn’t even know whoever his is!” Leaks cracks a smile at his own words.
When he looks over at her again, Shina is staring at him, looking at him like he’s the new prophet. “What?” He asks, put off. She sniffs once, then pounces forward and tackles him into a hug. “I love you, Leaks!” She yells, sounding happier than Leaks thinks he’s ever heard her sound before. “Yeah, yeah.” He chuckles, patting her head. “Now get off me, you smell like fish.”
That night, before he goes to bed, Leaks takes his time undressing and watches his own clock complacently in the process. It stays stuck at zero, just as it should. Leaks isn’t sure what he’s doing-- does he expect it to rewind, or something? Does he expect it to actually lead him to the love of his life, or to the end of it?
Leaks doesn’t know. So instead of answering his own questions, he just stares at the black, calligraphic zeroes, all lined up with their proper commas. All lined up like dominoes, waiting for someone to come along and knock them down.