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Rean, Jusis knows, is not a idiot. Even if he has a habit of sticking his nose into any problem that so much as surfaces near him with a stubborn determination to fix it, he somehow always manages to come out on top. It’s impressive, really, despite his oddities and complete lack of the sort of tact and stuffiness he’d come to expect from most nobles, perhaps Rean was the most noble noble he knew -- and a smart one at that. An idiot, after all, wouldn’t land fourth place in their midterm exams, nor would they have landed themselves at the center of their class as a pseudo-leader.
Rean was not an idiot… but he was an absolutely insufferable and painfully oblivious buffoon.
Everything starts not long after exams but before they leave for their next field study when he finds Rean sitting in the lower lobby of their dorms. He looks pensive and lost, his eyes trained on a small bundle of flowers and approaches the table to look down at them. It isn’t until he’s closer that he notices the single, brightly coloured bloom that stands out in the middle.
“Rean,” he greets and squints at the flower he assumes is meant to be the centerpiece of the bouquet. “I didn’t know you were the floral type.”
“I’m not.” Rean sighs and leans back on the couch to offer Jusis a tired smile. “I mean… I don’t dislike them. I used to help my mom take care of a herb garden back home, but--It’s… sort of a long story.” He pauses, then motions to the table. “They’re pink lilies.”
“I can see that,” Jusis snorts and points to the flower that has caught his attention. “That, however…” he frowns and eyes it. Not that he particularly cares , but he can only think of a small list of people who would dare give Rean such a thing. None of them sit well in his stomach. “...That one is a grand rose. ”
Rean blinks owlishly and looks back at the flowers, surprise melting across his features. “Oh. I didn’t… notice there was another one there.”
Jusis almost pities whoever gave them to Rean. Almost. “It seems your observant nature doesn’t stray far from the battlefield.”
“Hey!” Rean purses his lips in a pout, “That’s just rude.” He sits up and looks at the flowers again, only to snap his attention back to Jusis without warning. “Hey, wait, do you… like flowers, Jusis?”
“My mother had a rose garden,” he answers, cryptic, but that seems to be enough. Immediately, Rean jumps to his feet and gathers the flowers in his arms, only to push them into Jusis’.
“Here,” he beams. “I think you’ll enjoy them a little more than I will. I’m pretty sure the person who got them was just making fun of me.”
Jusis’ eyes narrow. “And are you trying to--”
“Not at all,” Rean shrugs. “I just think they’d look better in your room than mine -- and you like roses, right?”
“...I admired the ones my mother grew, yes.”
“I mean… if you really don’t want them, I could offer them to Fie. She was my second choice since--”
“No.” Jusis cuts Rean off before he can finish his reasoning. If he was somehow the first person Rean thought of to give the flowers to… it was likely just because he walked downstairs, but the idea of Rean handing them over someone else makes something in his chest tighten. “I’ll take them. I doubt the others know how to tend for plucked flowers.”
“I think Emma might, if Fie didn’t.” Rean shrugs, but doesn’t make an effort to take the flowers back.
Jusis doesn’t dignify it with a response and shifts his attention to the kitchen. “It’s late. You should return to your room for the night. I’ll be retiring as soon as I find a vase for this.”
“Yeah… I guess I should.”
Fingers brush against his skin as Rean gives his arm a warm pat. “Thanks for taking care of them for me.” He smiles again. “Goodnight, Jusis.”
Rean disappears upstairs and Jusis realises he has completely forgotten the reason he came downstairs in the first place. He pushes his thoughts aside and enters the kitchen to gather up vase and water. If he’d forgotten it so easily, it must not be important.
It’s not until he steps inside his room that it hits him Rean has just given him a grand rose and likely has absolutely no idea what it means.
“Hey.” Fie walks into Rean’s room with little more than a knock and plops herself on his bed. She stares at his bewildered expression expectantly, but when he doesn’t seem to respond, she rolls her eyes and flops onto her stomach, legs in the air. “So what was all that about?”
“What was… what about?” he asks, and his genuine confusion seems to take Fie off-guard, if only for a moment, before speaks again.
“You gave Jusis flowers.”
“Yeah…? He said he liked them.” Rean shrugs, as if this isn’t anything spectacular to consider and turns back to the homework he’d been working on. “If he didn’t take them, I was going to offer them to you.”
“...what?” Fie frowns, unseen, and sits up. “Like a back-up plan?”
“Well, yeah,” Rean shrugs again. “You’re in the gardening club, aren’t you? If anyone could keep flowers alive in the dorms, it’d have to be one of you.”
“...oh.” Fie blinks and swings her body around to dangle her legs off the mattress and sighs. “Well that’s almost disappointing. I actually thought you knew what you were doing and finally took some action.”
“Huh?” Rean’s pen pauses mid-sentence and he looks over his shoulder. “Action…? For what?”
“Pink lilies and a grand rose,” Fie raises an eyebrow. “Did you mess up or something?”
“What?” Rean furrows his eyebrows in thought before his eyes widen in realization. “O-oh, you mean the rose that--no, no.” He sighs. “Someone at school gave it to me as a… sort of apology, but it turned out to be just another prank.”
“...a prank.”
“A prank.” Rean confirms with a nod. “Look, it doesn’t mean anything and I’m sure Jusis knows that.”
“I think most stuffy people know what grand roses are.” Fie points out, swinging her legs. “I don’t think he’d take it as a prank.”
“I know, but he--” Rean trails off with a sigh and runs a hand through his hair. “I really… didn’t think about that, but he didn’t say anything so… I’m sure it’s fine.”
“If you say so.” Fie hops to her feet and heads for the door, humming. “Boys are weird.”
When the door clicks shut, Rean’s hand stills over his assignment and he tries to ignore the heaviness building in his chest. He really hadn’t stopped to think about that, had he? After everything he went through with Linde and Vivi, he should have known to be more careful.
Still, Jusis hadn’t said anything or protested, so he must have known he was just trying to be nice.
He hadn’t had any secret meaning behind the flowers.
He was just… being nice...
The next time it happens, Jusis finds himself in the library, studying.
Across him, surprising even to himself, is Machias. It’s was less a choice and more a need for them to use the same reference book with only one copy left. Thus, they’d settled on a truce of sorts to share the textbook and pass it back and forth across the table as needed.
“Hey, guys!” Rean waves, a smile stretching across his face, as his eyes dart between Machias and himself as if he’s just found something wonderful. It’s bright and warm and melts into his eyes and almost seems to make them shine. The look causes a fluttering to rise in Jusis’ chest and he tries to crush it back down by tightening the grip he has on his pencil.
If studying with Machias Regnitz of all people made Rean look at him like that , he’d almost consider subjecting himself to the torment of it on a daily basis. Almost.
“Are you two studying together?”
Machias rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to respond, but Jusis cuts in before he can speak. “Something to that effect.”
Across the table, Machias’ eyebrows shoot upward, high enough to brush the edge of his his bangs. Jusis can almost feel the protest rising in the Machias’ throat, but thankfully, he refrains from saying something irritating and opts for a shrug instead.
“For the time being...” he agrees vaguely and adjusts his glasses. “Would you care to join us?”
Rean brightens again and Jusis swears this is all on purpose. “I was just about to ask, actually.” He moves around the table -- all the way around it -- to take the open seat beside Jusis despite the seat beside Machias being far closer. Something like smug pride bubbles briefly in the back of his mind, but it’s quickly crushed and he shoves the feeling away. He doesn’t need this now.
“So,” Rean hums and pulls several notebooks and a text from his bag. “What are you two working on right now? Hopefully it’s about this morning, because that lesson was…”
“Lacking?” Machias offers and clicks his tongue. “Yes, we’re reviewing that right now. Unfortunately, there’s only one copy of the text we need left and--”
“That’s okay.” Rean shifts and grabs the edges of his seat, then promptly hops his way even closer to Jusis, edging along the floor until their shoulders are pressed flush against one another. “We can all share, right? I’ll read when Jusis does.”
Jusis almost swears under his breath, but manages to cover it with a couch. Machias’ eyebrows shift again at the noise and suddenly he is watching Jusis all-too-carefully. He has that annoying glint in his eyes when he thinks he’s figured something out and Jusis briefly considers just chucking the damned textbook that started this all across the table.
Rean can’t possibly be doing this on accident.
“So, judging by this page… I haven’t missed too much?”
“No,” Jusis answers in a forced tone of calm. “We’ve only just started.” He rubs his forehead and feigns resting his eyes as he pushes his notebook closer to Rean. “Here. This is what we’ve noted to be of relevance so far.”
“Oh. Great! Thanks, Jusis.” Rean nods and presses even closer to better look at the page. His arm shifts with every movement of his pen as he jots the notes down, reading them to himself in a soft whisper as he does.
It’s just over an hour later when Jusis is blessed -- or perhaps cursed -- by Rean pulling away with a muffled yawn to stretch. “I think I’m getting it now,” he nods to himself and smiles between the table’s two other occupants. “Thanks you two, but I’m gonna have to excuse myself early. I promised Towa I’d help her with something this evening.”
Almost immediately, Jusis frowns and he has to look away and cover the action by putting things away rather forcefully in his bag. He is not jealous of a second year he barely knows. Rean is only doing it because he is far too friendly for his own good; unable to say no or stop caring for those around him.
It has to be only be Aidios’ will that he hasn’t collapsed yet.
When Rean is finally, finally out of sight, Jusis’ head connects with the surface of the table with a dull thud and the heavy blush he has been fighting back for an hour rushes to his cheeks.
Across the table, Machias clears his throat and Jusis scowls. “Don’t,” he warns and tries to make it not sound too much like a growl. “Be silent; I don’t need your pity.”
“I wouldn’t call it pity,” Machias responds and Jusis swears he sounds just like someone struggling not to laugh. “I just… think I’m actually feeling a little sympathy for you.” He snorts and begins to collect his own belongings. “Maybe I’m getting sick.”
Jusis scowls and stands up. “You can comment once you’ve finally stopped that headache inducing nonsense you and our class president feel the need to subject the rest of us to.”
“Wh-what…” Machias stumbles and nearly drops his notebook with a small blush. “Just what are you insinuating!?”
“That you have absolutely no grounds to stand on,” Jusis says dryly and slings his bag over his shoulder and heads for the door.
Damn Machias, damn the library for not being better stocked, and damn Rean for being so… Rean.
Machias stops Rean in the kitchen the next morning when he slips inside to make himself tea after yet another early morning of practice. He stares at Rean critically, his gaze hard, and points to the nearest chair, which Rean takes without question.
He can’t help but feel like his life might depend on it.
“Um,” he hesitates, uncertain where to begin. Had he offended Machias recently without meaning to? Was he still upset that he’d hidden his heritage? Or maybe he’d just managed to put his foot in his mouth again. That seemed pretty likely. “Good morning?”
“Don’t ‘good morning’ me.” Machias snaps and takes the seat across from Rean. “I want an explanation. Now.”
Rean blinks, his mouth parting in confusion as he tries to make sense of what is happening. He’d made sure to be as silent as possible that morning, and Machias’ room was too far away to hear the sound of his sword swinging. They weren’t out of coffee beans and he can’t think of anything he’s broken or lost recently. So maybe… “I, uh, felt like tea this morning?” he tries, “I know I said I’d try coffee more often, but…”
“This isn’t about your choice of beverage!” Machias huffs and pushes his glasses up his nose. “I want to know what all of that was about yesterday! In the library!”
Rean has absolutely no idea what is happening and he leans back in his chair, some part of him genuinely afraid Machias might consider throwing his mug across the table. “We… uh, we… we studied?” he explains slowly and tries not to show any hint of fear. “And… I was bad at it?”
“Not that!” Machias looks torn between angry and exasperation and he takes a deep gulp of his coffee to calm himself. “I meant the way you were hanging off Jusis!”
Now Rean’s really confused, but his silence on the matter doesn’t seem to be helping Machias’ mood at all.
“I… wasn’t?” Rean offers and feels his chest tighten. Aidios, had he been? “At least, I wasn’t trying to. I just… I thought it would be easier if I was closer so we could both read at the same time. Then we weren’t passing the book between three people.”
Machias gapes at him, his expression slowly shifting into something Rean suspects is pity, then moves to embarrassment -- though why, he can’t even imagine. It hadn’t been that bad!
“...is that so?” Machias sighs and grabs his coffee, rubbing his forehead as if nursing a sudden headache. Rean has a bad feeling he might be and he might be the cause of it. “I see. If it were anyone else, Rean, I’d think they were lying, but… somehow, I can believe it.”
“...thank you?” It’s all Rean can think so say, even if he can’t help but feel as if he’s being insulted somehow. “I promise I wasn’t… trying anything weird.”
“Yes, well,” Machias sniffs and rolls his shoulders. “Be more aware of your actions in the future. If you’re going to do such things, at least have the decency to do them with purpose.” He pauses and gives Rean yet another hard look. “What you’re doing has consequences, and as much as I don’t particularly like him, because I assure you I still don’t , I’m not one to encourage or cheer for teasing someone of… this nature.”
“...I’ll, uh, keep that in mind.”
It seems to be a good enough answer because Machias nods once and leaves Rean behind.
He has absolutely no idea what has just happened, but he has a sneaking suspicion he somehow managed to mess up again. Perhaps worse than what he’d done with the flowers.
...maybe he’d write a letter to Elise tonight.
How the others’ got involved, Jusis isn’t even sure he wants to know. He had thought he’d been discreet in disposing of the wilting flowers Rean had given him some time ago. Despite his best efforts, cut flowers had a short lifespan. The fact that he’d managed to get this long out of them was no doubt luck on his part -- and perhaps the admittedly good advice Fie had offered him when he asked. Though he still questioned if the knowing smirk and all-too-playful glint in her eyes had been worth it.
Now, standing in front of Emma at the bottom of the stairs leading to the third floor, he’s not certain it was. How on earth was anyone meant to keep a secret in this cursed dorms?
“I’m sorry if I’m intruding…” Emma smiles, apologetic, and turns the laminated flower she’s holding in her hands. “I just… I saw you throwing something away last week and, well… you looked terribly sad about it. I thought maybe something important of your’s had broke and i wanted to see if I could get it fixed.
“When I looked inside to see what it was… I hadn’t been expecting flowers, but when I saw this one… I thought I might understand why you were so upset about it.”
Jusis opens his mouth, protest on the tip of his tongue, and falters. Admitting to any sorrow would just be solidifying it. It isn’t as if he can truly find sadness in something that didn’t even have the intended meaning it was meant to behind it. Rean might have a good knowledge of cooking herbs, but that didn’t mean his thumbs were green.
“So…” she holds the flower out for Jusis to take and offers a look he guesses is meant to be encouraging. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve been pressing it and one of our teachers helped me preserve it like this. I think it would make a wonderful bookmark, don’t you?”
Jusis takes the ‘bookmark’ mechanically and for several moments, he doesn't know what to do. Emma’s intentions are, undoubtedly, meant to be good, but he can’t help but feel as if she’s simply rubbing salt in on an invisible wound.
Rean’s actions in the past few weeks had been absolutely torturous from brief touches to lunch not-dates to even a hug after a close call in battle that nearly shattered his resolve. He almost thinks it would have been kinder if the monster had torn into his arm. At least that wound would be physical and he’d have an excuse to look irritated and miserable.
“You’re quite talented at this,” he says instead and examines the pristinely preserved grand rose that started his journey into hell. “Not a petal out of place.”
Emma brightens almost immediately. “My grandmother taught me!” she chirps and brings her hands together. “We used to press them together all the time back home when I was younger. I must have a dozen of these in my room alone. If you get another flower you like, I could show you how.”
The mere thought of Rean presenting him kindly -- cruelly, so, so cruelly -- with another grand rose makes his stomach churn violently; almost to the point of pain. His throat tightens and he busies himself with examining the flower again to give reason to his silence. He isn’t sure he’d want to save another flower from Rean if the only meaning behind it was friendship.
And yet…
And yet…
The thought of casting it aside or event throwing it away feels disrespectful. No matter what turmoil might rise in his own heart, Rean is first, and foremost, one of his closest friends. One he never imagined he might have. Their bond is as precious as it is maddening.
Besides, Emma’s intentions really were good, and he’s never been one to dismiss hard work.
“...I’m grateful,” he finally says and slides the bookmark into his uniform jacket. “You needn’t have gone so far.”
“It’s no trouble at all!” Emma seems to relax under his words and offers a much warmer smile in return. “I’m happy to help. Just let me know if you ever want to press another.”
Jusis nods and she bids him farewell with a short wave before hurrying up the staircase. He barely makes it to his room before his legs give out and he collapses against the door, sliding down the wooden surface until he meets the floor.
Tentatively, he pulls the flower from his pocket and stares at it, brushing his thumb over the glossy surface as heat builds in his cheeks. Rean is such a damned idiot and he doesn’t even know it, yet somehow, he’s one of the best things that has ever happened to Jusis. It’s so infuriating he doesn’t know what to do with himself.
Everything that’s bothering him right now is Rean’s fault. From the flutter in his chest, to the heat in his cheeks, to the warm, pleasant and dreams filled with laughter and soft smiles and a happiness he hasn’t felt since he lost his mother all those years ago.
He hates it, he loathes it, but he never wants it to stop. Frustrating Rean is better than No Rean.
Pushing himself to his feet, Jusis strides quickly to his desk and grabs a fresh sheet of paper. If he can’t voice his frustrations aloud, then he will subject himself to the teasing -- and hopefully helpful -- advice of the only other person he can trust with his feelings.
It isn’t as if his father bothers with any letters that come, Rufus will undoubtedly get his mail.
The letter he gets in response from Elise feels more like a scolding than anything else. He’d told her about everything that had happened recently and all she seemed to absorb was the part where he’d ‘absolutely messed up’ and ‘needed to correct his actions immediately because he was in danger of messing up terribly!’
It didn’t really make sense because she never actually explained what he’d done wrong or who he’d done wrong too. It was confusing, but somehow, she still managed to make him feel guilty about it -- and really, he still had no idea how she did it.
Whatever it was, he needed to figure it out and fix it fast.
He had a sneaking suspicion his well-being might actually be in danger for this. The last thing he needed was Elise getting anyone else involved over something stupid he did… again.
It’s been nearly three months since what Jusis has begun referring to as the flower incident and he is slowly losing his mind. Rean’s tendency for touchy-feely emotional reactions seems to have found a focus on him, if only because he had allowed himself to start to respond to it, and he is convinced that was a mistake.
Anytime Rean touches him, he finds himself unconsciously leaning into the hand or limb that has brushed against him, and it only serves to fuel Rean’s actions further. More than once he has found himself at the mercy of a slumbering Rean against his shoulder as he read a book in the lounge or a growth off his shoulder once more as they studied together. Fingers have pushed against his arms in playful nudges more times than he can be bothered to count, and hands find purchase on his shoulders or elbows for support whenever life seems to finally get to be too much for either of them. He never imagined himself as an emotional pillar for anyone , but being Rean’s is yet another double-edged blade of blessing that has lodged itself into his ribs as of late.
His current predicament is, perhaps, the worst of them all. Rean’s head is resting in his lap as they sit outside in Trista’s central park on a shaded bench and Rean rambles about something Jusis can’t quite comprehend because Rean’s head is in his lap. He hadn’t even seemed to think about it either. He saw Jusis, sat down, asked if he could talk to him about something, then laid down.
He wasn’t a pillow, dammit! And he didn’t intend to be one again unless Rean stepped up and took proper control of his recent actions.
“--and now I’m just… sort of regretting having said yes to Professor Sara at all. I mean, I’m happy to help and all, but I’m not convinced she was entirely sober when she asked either.” He pauses to sigh, his body going slack. “...but I guess I’ll have to take responsibility.”
Jusis pauses, something inside him snapping, like a rubberband pulled too taunt and he looks down with a glare. “Yes,” he snaps, “you should.”
“I-I intend to?” Rean looks both guilty and lost, like he can’t figure out exactly what he’s admitting to. “I--whoa!!”
Taking advantage of Rean’s fallen guard, Jusis slips an arm under his shoulders and pulls . It’s an awkward angle, but he manages to get Rean up close enough that bending down is easy. He stills long enough only to adjust his face and avoid a collision of noses, then closes the remaining distance between them.
It’s soft and tentative; frustrated though he is, he isn’t about to force this on Rean anymore than he already has, but if the hand slowly sliding up his shoulder and behind his neck is anything to go by, perhaps he has nothing to worry about. Neither of them is particularly practiced in the art of kissing, but there’s enough uncertainty between them that the gesture remains soft and pleasant, sending waves of warmth through Jusis’ body he can only assume Rean is feeling too. They pull apart with barely more than a whisper of a noise and Rean stares up at him with wide eyes and an open mouth.
“...oh,” he whispers and pulls his hand from Jusis’ neck to cover his mouth. “Oh.”
“Oh?” Jusis repeats and narrows his eyes. Irritation starts to bubble, both with himself for giving Rean too much credit, and Rean for most likely being Rean again. “Is that all you have to say for yourself?”
“N-no!” Rean squeaks and finally, finally Jusis has the pleasure of seeing red bloom across Rean’s cheeks for once. “I just--I mean, I, uh… it’s just… something my sister said in her last letter makes a lot of sense now and… oh man.” He groans and covers his face with his hands, muffling his next works. “So... I might be an idiot.”
“Might?”
“Okay, okay… I deserve that. I have been an idiot. A lot lately.” He lowers his hands and the look on his face makes it hard for the angry bubbling in Jusis’ chest to remain. Rean is too genuine for his own good. “...let me make it up to you?”
“And just how to you intend to do that?” Jusis asks and tries to retain a tone of anger, but Rean is making it increasingly difficult when his hand is moving back to rest at the base of his neck and he’s smiling like that.
“Well…” Rean smiles, sheepish, and although Jusis knows it’s an attempt to be charming and get out of trouble, he can’t help but fall for it. “I was thinking, maybe, we could try that again a few times and then… Kirshe’s?”
“...I beg your pardon?”
“It’s almost dinner time,” Rean explains and angles his free hand to show Jusis his watch. “So… my treat?”
Jusis stares. It has to be one of the most ridiculous ways to respond to what has just happened, but if nothing else, it’s straightforward and earnest. He can respect that. “It’s a start,” he concedes and curls his fingers into Rean’s hair when he feels a small tug against his neck. “But I expect much more in your apology for the suffering I’ve dealt with for these past few months.”
Rean laughs; warm and wonderful, like the flames that dance around his sword in the middle of battle. Something so uniquely Rean it makes Jusis almost sick with himself to imagine waxing poetic about it -- but he knows he could.
“That’s fair,” he nods, and there’s that smile again; the smile that has made Jusis’ insides melt and leave some part of him willing putty in Rean’s skilled hands. “I’ll do my best; but let’s start here for now.”
“...very well,” Jusis slides his eyes closed and allows his head to be guided downward once more. “Show me your resolve.”