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Johan doesn’t dream that often, for all his talk. Either it’s the eyes of his fennec fox, Ruby, watching him with a gleam too knowing to be a mere animal, or it’s that fear he never learned to trample, even all the way into another life. He’s not scared of Yubel, that’s not the right word, it’s just-- you don’t really watch yourself do all those horrible things without an inkling that maybe it’s what you wanted all along. You don’t really-- you can’t just see yourself move like that, and still think it’s all her.
With a cubish amethyst slipped into his pocket, he wanders into the kitchen as the clock nears midnight, and Yubel is nowhere to be found. Judai is sitting on the counter in boxers and a thin nightshirt too big to be his, gnawing at a ham sandwich, and he waves at Johan in lieu of a greeting because of his full mouth. Johan smiles weakly at him, grabbing a glass of orange juice from the fridge and plopping himself down at the small table they fit into the kitchenette. “Can’t sleep?” Judai asks when he’s done chewing, and finally Ruby nudges the door open to trot after you, scampering up the back of the chair to rest on Johan’s shoulder. He scritches under her chin and she relaxes. “I guess so.” He answers. “Where’s Yubel?”
Judai looks at him with a weary, warmed expression, like he’s going to offer Johan the other half of his sandwich. “Still asleep.” He says, flashing his canines in a grin. “You’re safe for now.” He wiggles his fingers like a ghost and Johan huffs out a laugh. Ruby stirs on his shoulder, but she only readjusts herself and goes back to sleep.
They fall into a comfortable silence, and Johan wonders just how much Judai remembers. He wonders if he recalls before, and before that, if he even knows about it. There’s no way Yubel wouldn’t clue him in, is there? He wonders to himself, absentmindedly clutching his glass tighter in his hand. Judai’s eyes run along the ridges of his knuckles, but Johan doesn’t seem to notice. He swears he hears a growl, one with the promise of claws backing it, but Ruby is fast asleep-- Ruby is asleep, and there’s nothing else around. There’s no one else around.
Yet when Johan looks down at his hands, nails shining with a clear varnish after Yubel had all but forced him into letting her fix up his own from their state of ripped cuticles and jagged ends, he feels strangely empty, as if even after all he’s pieced together there’s still bits missing. “Hey, Johan.” Judai calls quietly, and it sounds like he’s a million miles away. Johan raises his gaze to lock with Judai’s, and he’s thrown for a second, because in the light of the kitchenette and darkness through the window behind him, his eyes look almost golden. Maybe he’s finally lost it.
“Yes?” He croaks, and Ruby nestles closer to him, pawing at his neck. Her claws are retracted and he wishes he hadn’t named her Ruby-- was he trying to invoke something, selfishly? Judai wipes a handful of crumbs away from his mouth with his sleeve and hops down off the counter, and he slots his hands carefully under Ruby’s small body before detaching her from Johan’s shoulder, making a valiant effort not to disturb her sleep. He succeeds, and as he carries her to one of the tiny, fluffy beds Johan bought as a set so he could leave one in the living room, one of her ears twitches, and she nuzzles into the soft fabric. Judai is smiling when he rejoins Johan in the kitchenette, and despite himself, Johan feels his expression mirror that.
“Should we wake her up?” Johan asks, knowing Judai is aware he’s not talking about Ruby. Judai taps a finger to his chin, considering his options, but he shakes his head in the end. “It’s hard enough to get her to stay asleep as is.” He laughs. To that, Johan can relate-- insomnia is a vice they share, blackened as they may be.
Sitting in silence isn’t awkward with Judai-- it’s calm, cool like a breezy spring day and tranquil like a lake after rain. It’s just, Johan is starting to drown in all these memories fighting to the surface. It’s just that Johan is starting to go a little crazy with all these thoughts in his head, just a bit. He feels like he might burst, the whirlpool of his mind twisting and turning until he can’t remember if he’s looking at Judai or Haou anymore. He doesn’t remember what his reflection looks like, what color his eyes are.
“You’re a lot more alike than you think.” Judai mentions, tapping on the counter aimlessly. “You both think so hard about things that don’t matter anymore. Who cares, you know?”
I care, Johan thinks, then stops himself. Does he really? Does it really matter, when he doesn’t know if he’ll meet anyone else from back then again? He’s already a natural loner, being lucky enough to meet Judai and Yubel as is, but he can’t see himself falling into place so seamlessly again. Judai, maybe, but there’s never really been a space for Johan, has there?
“I don’t really think about it, to be honest.” Judai continues, glancing out the window at the faint lights of buildings beyond their complex. “That was me then, but now I’m me now. What’s there to agonize over?
“Yubel hates it too, though, don’t get me wrong.” His words seem as easy as air, and Johan’s stumped, because everytime he tries to open up about this it comes out like vomit, choking him on what he wants to say. “She hates herself most, I think. She’s scared to hurt anyone.” She’s scared to hurt you again lingers in the space between them, hanging above the table.
That makes two of us, Johan thinks bitterly. A sound like an elephant exhaling echoes in his ears.
“I think you guys should talk about it at some point, though.” He shrugs, bouncing his leg. “I already told her what I told you, but nothing can ever be simple, right?” Judai’s grin could blind the sun. He seems to be waiting for a reply, so Johan nods, his mouth dry. “Okay.” He mumbles, and takes a sip of the juice he has left. Ruby snoozes away in her bed in the next room.
Judai kisses the top of his head, and shuffles off to head back to bed, leaving Johan alone in the kitchenette for a moment. His thigh aches where he’d done his injection earlier, and he rubs aimless circles into his shorts in hopes of alleviating the sting. He empties his glass and, as quietly as he can, places it in the dishwasher. Instead of risking waking Ruby by picking her up, he decides to just pick the whole bed up and carry it to his room, just in case she wakes up in the middle of the night and starts pacing.
His bed feels warmer than it did before, lived in. His sheets smell like no one but himself, but it’s comforting, late at night. He wonders what Yubel’s dreaming of. Even now, as he falls prey to slumber, he thinks of a world where the sun doesn’t shine. He thinks of a comet, falling and falling and falling, directly towards the three of them.