Chapter Text
"Booyaka! Anotha one bites the dust, yo!"
"Aww yeah-- let's gooo, Beat!" Fret cheers, shielding his eyes from a shower of white static as another beastly Noise meets its demise after their combined attack. He dashes ahead of their next encounter. "Ready for this next one?"
"You know it, bro; chargin' it up!"
Fighting alongside Beat like this makes the Wicked Twisters feel more like a well-oiled Noise murder machine now than ever before. They have a lot to thank Mr Minami for; 'a lot' mostly being kicking ass on their behalf whenever it was convenient to him, aggressively sipping melon soda floats, then stalking off to do whatever it is math men do in their 't variable'. But ever since he tapped out, saying he was going out to buy some protractors and he'd be right back (probably, Fret imagines) before disappearing off the face of the earth, Beat fills his shoes and then some. He has the added perks of not talking all 'algebraic' 110% of the time half the time and just being an all-around nice dude, in Fret's opinion. He's a solid addition to the team.
Things finally seem to be looking up after the disappointment of the end of last week and a rough start to this one. It still feels like the air is yet to clear between Fret and Rindo after the events of the past few days, but that's an emotional minefield Fret is taking great care to tiptoe around. He really doesn't like it when Rindo gets like this, but pissing him off is the opposite of what Fret wants, so nothing can be done until he sticks a pin in the Kanon collab business. Fret intends to carry on as normal and hopes that so long that nothing else dumb happens between them, things will sort themselves out with time.
Speaking of which-- "all yours, Rindude!" he calls out to him. Somewhere along the way, Rindo picked up a funny Shepherd House pin that did a windy thing and now it does weird time stuff instead and it's awesome. Fret's convinced that this is the result of Rindo's other weird time stuff that might have leaked from his Player pin through some kind of diffusion. Fret's also convinced that this pin coming to be is a sign that Rindo is destined to be Shibuya's next big saxophone player or to drive a Delorean, or maybe both. Fret suggested these ideas to Rindo in the space of about five minutes after the pin mutated; it's probably why Rindo stared at him like he was an idiot and dismissed all of them at once, without giving either of them any real consideration. It didn't stop Fret from looking up freeform jazz sheet music later on the internet and developing an instant headache.
Anyway, the new pin can do some sort of time wizardry too, only on a lesser scale compared to what Rindo has done before. It wrecks so many enemies at once though; a prime opportunity to use it was coming up any minute now.
"On it," Rindo hollers back, planting his feet in place before an odd gust of not-quite-wind pours from his palms. Fret watches as one of those annoying-ass raven Noise gets obliterated in about three seconds, which stretches to last six due to the pin's odd effect. It's quite satisfying.
"Nice one, Rindude!"
After firing out praise for his friend, Fret makes sure to fire a couple more Dynamite Darts for good measure at another raven that the time wave didn't reach. He runs off towards the next enemy before they detonate; Fret doesn't even watch this one explode into bits, because that's what cool people do, supposedly. Rindo possibly maybe alluded to the fact that Fret might be cool, like, at least once, he thinks; he has to live up to it!
On the topic of being cool; outside of looking at his phone, Fret never sees Rindo focused like he is in battle. He wonders how much of this is a 'gamer' thing and how much is a 'we are playing a death game where we will die if we are killed' thing. Either way, he's grateful for what it is. Turns out Rindo makes the quite the competent leader in combat, where decisions seem to come much more easily to him. It might be the more pressing time limit; it's a shame they can't enforce it more easily outside of Noise battles. Kanon's proposal comes to mind again.
"Fret, to your right!" He hears Rindo call out again in the distance. Fret could stop getting distracted while they're fighting, but he can't help it when he's riding so high on their on success!
Except this time, the fun has to end; to Fret's right is one those flaky-ass Noise again, the ones that look like someone dumped the Photoshop mosaic tool all over them and have zero chill. Another one is close behind it, making Fret wonder if it was originally a pack of wolves that separated. As of yet, they've had no success in even hitting the things. They didn't show up too often, but they really needed some sort of plan for them in case things went south. It's another item on the list of things Fret wishes Rindo would address sooner rather than later, but--
"Agh, and we were doing so well, too! Damn it, what now?" Fret calls to the team at large. "We can hope they go away on their own, or--"
"Haul ass? 'Cause that's what I'm thinkin'. Le's bounce!"
Nagi is busy scurrying around and scooping up the last of the pins that had dropped to the ground before she rejoins them. An impish look comes over her as she jogs over to meet with Fret and Beat with arms full of badges, reminiscent of a dragon and their horde.
"'Twas a fruitful endeavour, fighting these brutes. The boon to our funds will be immense if we find a merchant who will purchase these! A shame we must abscond for now."
It's fortunate that these Noise didn't arrive any later; a quick look at his team tells Fret that they have enough energy in them to make a proper run for it. They all set off at a sprint in their own way, hoping to cover as much ground as possible and perhaps find a decal'd store to hide in until they lose interest.
After about two yards, something occurs to Fret as he's running.
"Wait, where's Rindo?" he shouts ahead at Beat, then over his shoulder at Nagi. "Either of you see him?"
"Perhaps he did not hear us? He could be unaware of our retreat, even though he knows of the imminent threat."
"Shit-- yo, I think the minted threat is givin' him trouble. Over there!"
Sure enough, Rindo is a fair distance away in an obscure part of the street they overlooked. Wolf Noise number three, which came from nowhere, circles him as it gauges his movement. It's too close for him to run from; Fret has seen how far they can go in single bound and they're fast to boot. Rindo doesn't look like he could fight back, either, even if he wanted to try. The fear in his eyes says it all; the wolf's caught him mid-reboot. As it happens, the cool time powers don't extend to a short cooldown. To make matters worse, Rindo is still a ways away from any kind of help the rest of them can offer him.
The situation worsens in quick succession, but Fret watches it progress like a slideshow of distinct, awful imagery. A powerful swipe of its forepaw-- the Noise sends Rindo flying-- a pained cry rings out, cuts through the air like a wolf's claw-- until a horrified Fret sees Rindo crash into the pavement some six feet away. He doesn't land well. More importantly, he doesn't get up.
"Rindo!" The shout tears itself from his throat as Fret pivots on his foot to turn and go after him. While Beat has proven much faster on his feet and would likely reach him first, Fret's already halfway over to him before he can even think about it.
The wolf's gearing itself up for another strike. Fret knows he has a few more Dynamite Darts in him before reboot himself. These busted Noise seem invincible to every attack they've tried so far, but Fret fires anyway; anything to try and get it away from Rindo. Beat and Nagi aren't far behind, but by the sounds of it, both have their hands full trying to evade the other Noise. It's just him on it, for now.
Fret has to keep himself from falling to his knees when he skids to a halt and hovers by Rindo's side. He looks beat up, but no sign of any blood yet. Fret hears a faint groan; seems Rindo may still be conscious. Whether or not this is a good thing, Fret doesn't know.
"C'mon dude, get up," his words are harried as he does his best to haul Rindo to his feet.
Rindo can't even stand on his own as he is. His knees buckle and he almost falls again. He and Fret both flail for a moment as Rindo grasps desperately at Fret's shoulder to hold himself up on shaky legs, while Fret manages to wrap an arm around him. His brown eyes look dazed and fearful, but when they hover over what he's holding onto, some clarity returns.
"F-Fret," is all he can manage to say.
The frailty of it sends Fret into a panic. They need to get Rindo out of here yesterday.
Another growl sounds behind them. Fret looks over his shoulder to see the wolf speeding towards them again, ready for another round. He knows Rindo isn't dodging anything like this, so he does the only thing that makes sense. At the last possible moment, Fret springs and launches himself bodily into Rindo's side. He feels a rush of air as he thinks he feels a claw rush past his ear. As they go down together, he holds the back of his friend's head to make sure he doesn't crack his skull for what could be the first or second time. They go tumbling into the street from the momentum, phasing through the errant legs of pedestrians until Fret skids their roll to a halt with his foot on the curb.
He grimaces, but not so much for the bumpy ride. The time to mourn his pristine staple sneaks really should have been days ago-- like their third or fourth day at least-- but damn it, he's spent so much time and whitener trying to keep these in good condition. Lousy grimy Shibuya streets.
There's more important things at hand, though. Fret lets his head fall onto Rindo's chest and he breathes hard. He wants to check if he's okay, but his eyelids slam shut before he can have any say in the matter. Fret starts to feel the consequences of his maneuver. His limbs feel scraped to hell and back; it wouldn't surprise him if the part of his bloodstream that isn't pure adrenaline is mostly city grit now. Oh well, that's what he gets for not wearing seventy-million layers like Rindo does.
Speaking of which, Fret opens his eyes to find the other boy lying back, head still cushioned by his hand. He pushes Rindo's head up to peer more closely at him. Rindo looks back with bleary eyes, blinking slowly. He is still conscious at least, and doesn't seem much worse off than before. Belatedly, Fret lifts the front of himself off of Rindo so he isn't squashing his lungs anymore.
Ow, ouch-- yeah, there's plenty of cuts and grazes there, for sure. He'll worry about them later, though; Rindo comes first.
"Shit, man. That got wild for a sec. You okay? That thing did a real number on you back there."
The fog begins to clear from Rindo's eyes as he slowly raises his head further without support this time. They wander as they try to take in his surroundings, then hone in on the boy before him. He looks Fret up and down, as much as one can when they lay on top of one another like this. He does it again, only this time he looks.
Fret blinks back the surprise. He's no stranger to getting eyeballed. He would hope with the time and effort he puts into his general aesthetics (hair this slick needs work, especially when he has to keep re-dying it before the end of each extended holiday so school doesn't pitch a fit at him, again) that he gets some worthy attention from time to time. But it's Rindo here, so for that reason alone, it's kind of odd? And why now, of all times? Fret knows his fashion choices are what brought him to Rindo's attention in the first place back in the day. The glances he stole at him every so often (which later stopped when he either became more accustomed to Fret's style or Fret caught him at it one too many times and the playful teasing Rindo got from him put him off doing it ever again) were more subtle than this, though, and stopped about a month or two into their friendship.
Plus, Fret is pretty sure Rindo had a similar look in his eyes to this when he was presented with one of those steak skewers from SBY BBQ for the first time. Maybe he did hit his head.
"Yo, you good? Paging Doctor Rindude."
"Rin....dude? What? O-oh. Right. My bad."
Stutter, but no slur. In the back of Fret's mind, he's reminded that this is a good thing. He might be okay; just a bit disorientated.
"I think we're both all kinds of messed around after that one. You good to stand up this time?"
Fret sits up, hovering over Rindo as he kneels either side of the boy's knees. He braces himself on the ground with one hand (all the damage is on the outside, his palms are fine) and offers Rindo the other one. Strangely, Rindo stares at it like he doesn't know what it is or what to do with it. His eyes can't make their mind up between locking onto Fret's hand or, stranger still, Fret's face.
Is it Fret's imagination, or does Rindo's face look kind of red? He's short of breath, too. That fight did get pretty real for a hot minute, he supposes.
Rindo hesitates when he makes a slow reach for Fret's hand. Fret sees Rindo's fingers twitch when he doesn't quite get there and only manages to brush against him. Fret's starting to worry if his friend is actually okay or not. He grabs his hand himself and tugs forward until Rindo sits up proper. Rindo rubs the back of his head with his free hand.
"Th-thank you, um," he stammers, breaking eye contact to look at their joined hands before zeroing in on Fret's face again, "you're..."
Something's wrong. He can't put his finger on what, though, so Fret does what he does best; powers through it and grins.
"Listen, as much as I love spending some quality time together with you on some of Shibuya's finest asphalt," Fret gives a casual swing of their joined hands to gesture around them, "if you're good to move, then we can get going, yeah?"
A brief flash streaks across Rindo's eyes-- a realisation of some sort? He doesn't give Fret much of an opportunity to analyse it when his eyes narrow, and a rare smirk belies a flash of teeth.
Fret gets a bad feeling all of a sudden. It's very much warranted, for in the next moment, Rindo as good as pounces.
"Wh--" Fret manages before he's knocked backwards off terra firma once again and back onto it. He lands square on his back with an "--uff!" that knocks all the air out of him.
In a close reversal of their previous position, Rindo has Fret pinned (har har, Player humour) this time, except his hands splay to Fret's sides on the ground. There must still have been air left in there somewhere, because Fret feels the last of it depart when he sees how Rindo looks at him this time. It reminds Fret of how he looked when he was presented with one of the steak skewers from SBY BBQ for the second time.
"Got you," Rindo laughs lightly, looking every bit the cat that got the cream.
Once in a blue moon, Rindo might mess around with Fret, as friends are wont to do. But something of this nature is... so left field for him. It's so much more physical than Rindo's usual fare. For someone who's the polar opposite of touchy-feely, Rindo is making himself real comfy on Fret's thighs at the moment.
"Dude." The shortness of breath makes it come out like a croak. Mortified, Fret coughs and tries again. "Yeah, alright, very funny, you got me. Seriously though, are you okay? Didn't hit your head or anything?"
Rindo's eyes lid as he considers the question with a hum. They slide lazily over the splay of the other underneath him, and he answers in a low murmur, "more than okay."
For as long as he's known him, Fret can't think of a time Rindo has ever looked at anyone for so long before, especially like this. And what is this voice he's pulled from nowhere? And yes, he is still sitting on his thighs. Enough time has passed that Fret thinks they're exchanging body heat. It's getting weird now.
"C-Cool, glad to hear it."
Fret may not be smart, but he's not stupid. He has an idea of what this is, maybe. If he's right, he has no idea what to even begin to do about it. Fret can't even manage to look directly at Rindo anymore, like he's some sort of radiant, fluffy-haired sun. His face is starting to heat from Rindo's prolonged attention, especially with him so close, and he shifts in place. "H-Hey, so, um... this is getting kinda--"
It's hard to say it like it is when your buddy is eyeing you up like you're a snack. Unfortunately, Fret is not edible and it feels like Rindo could do with a reminder. Before he gets the opportunity however, Rindo clears his throat.
"Hey, uh," Rindo is the one to look away this time, finally succumbing to some sort of well overdue embarrassment. (Is he blushing?) "You look... um, good, today. Have I told you that yet?"
Fret blinks up at him. "...thanks, I think. And, uh, no?"
He looks back at him. (Good lord, he is.) "Think you taste as good as you look?"
"Hawha?"
Fret wasn't serious about the skewer thing. Oh no, did he do that?
"Just kidding. Maybe. Unless..."
Rindo moves close enough to him that their breaths just about mingle in the space between. Fret's eyes dart between Rindo's lidded eyes, his lips, and his hands that are now placed on the ground either side of Fret's head. He's caged in and utterly trapped now.
Fret watches the motion of Rindo's tongue as it peeks out and darts across his bottom lip. His stomach twists in a way he's never felt before. Somehow, impossibly, Rindo lowers his voice further. He can feel the rumble of it through their chests; the space there had disappeared at some point, too.
"...you don't mind if I try?"
Fret isn't sure what noise he makes to answer that. It sounds sort of like somebody sat on a Pig Cha-Cha.
Somehow satisfied with this, Rindo's eyes close as he starts to lean in closer. Fret starts flailing in a panic. "Waiwaiwaiwaiwait--!"
In desperation, he turns his head in what he thinks is the general direction of their teammates, breathes in and--
"Guys!" Fret bellows at the top of his lungs, keeping Rindo at bay with his palm. "A little help over here would be great right about now--!"
He feels the electricity in the air before he sees it. In the brief lapse between Beat's red-and-black-soled foot colliding with the side of Rindo's head and the younger of the two blonds zooming out of sight, Fret takes the opportunity to start processing what in the fresh hell just happened to him.
He hears Rindo thump onto the pavement yet again with a grunt, while Beat slides to a halt somewhere closer by. That should worry him-- Rindo might still be injured-- but Fret has a maximum holding limit of only one crisis at a time.
"Yo, you two aight?"
Even without Rindo crawling all over him anymore, Fret's lost all feeling in his legs like he's been hit with some numbing toxin. He stares up at the sky, questions his life as it has led to this, and gives a thumbs-up with a weary, "suuure, all good here."
"We were in the middle of something."
Rindo sounds so affronted that it breaks Fret from his daze and he sits up to just stare at him. He's pouting. It would be so funny if he hadn't just tried to kiss him.
Fret turns to look at their teammates to see how they're faring after the fight themselves. They look no worse for wear. Beat's scratching his head while Nagi has her own tilted in puzzlement. Neither of them seem to know what's going on, either.
"We thought you was--"
"--being assaulted," Nagi finishes lamely. "However, as it would appear..."
Her eyes rove over each of them in turn, taking them in with terrifying analysis. Fret wonders what she sees, if he looks as flustered as he feels. Rindo's forehead creases into a small frown. He huffs and bends down to dust himself off as if he hasn't just tried to mack on his best friend.
Oh, right. Fret's still on the ground, isn't he? He thinks he can trust his legs to support him now after-- what even was that? Forget Rindo for a moment; what was wrong with him? He tries to get his shit together before he gets back on his feet, but it's a clumsy affair and Fret stumbles.
Almost in an instant, he feels hands at his sides. "Hey, easy there. I gotcha," comes a softer, quiet--
--Rindo again, frown swapped out for concern. Fret leaps out from under his touch with an unattractive yelp.
At this, Rindo gives him a look that could rival sad puppies nationwide. His hands still hover where Fret was seconds before, then he stuffs them into his pockets; notably his hoodie, and not his coat. It's like he's forgotten it's there.
"You okay? You're acting kinda weird."
Fret scoffs and gawks at him in disbelief. "I'm acting--?!"
Incredulous, Fret squints at him. Now he's wary of him trying something else. This time, at least, Rindo isn't as daring; perhaps because he knows they have an audience? Whatever, that was innocuous enough (it would have been fine, kind of nice even(?), if it weren't for literally everything else that had just happened) and the Massive Hit to the noggin seems to have set Rindo straight. Not totally back to normal yet, though. He does his best to ignore him as he turns to Nagi and Beat.
"Right, anyway, something's not right with him," Fret tries to drag the conversation back onto the rails, "I mean, I think he's okay in a general sense, but--"
"I concur. Though none of my initial conceptions would explain his almost... amorous affliction."
"Why are you using that word?" Fret whines at Nagi as Rindo takes some weird encouragement from it to wind his arms around his sides like serpents. When he tucks his chin into his shoulder, Fret gives him his best stink-eye. "And why are you like this?"
"Hmm," Rindo non-answers. He rubs his cheek against Fret's neck as he shifts; it could have been a nuzzle if not for his necklaces getting in the way. Fret can feel his skin tingle where they touch; he wishes he wore a bigger scarf, but it's too late in the year for it.
"What are you even doing, dude?" Fret asks, laughing uncomfortably. "Did you crack your head on the concrete or what?"
Rindo shows no sign of listening. Something has his utmost attention down there, whatever it is. He tries again. "Earth to Rindo?"
Rindo jumps at the sound of his name as if knocked out of a trance.
"Oh, sorry. Just, uh, admiring the view," he mumbles, going pink again.
"The what now?"
Chin to chest, Fret peers down along with him. He follows Rindo's line of sight until it goes past his collarbones and down inside the low V-cut of his shirt. Lighting up as the realisation of where he's staring hits him like a truck, Fret positively shrieks.
He tugs at the sides of his waistcoat to try and cover himself. Fret has never felt the need to question what he wears in front of anyone before, least of all Rindo. Now he feels all sorts of naked; something like this has never happened before either and Fret is a loss at what to do. Somehow, having Rindo be the root cause makes it worse. The buttons are at the bottom and of no help to him, probably even decorative, so Fret uses one hand to hold the waistcoat together while he shoves at Rindo's face with the other.
"Wh-- that's-- really, Rindo?! You're seriously just-- what's with this-- this thirst, man? And why's it directed at meeee?!"
Rindo resists as Fret tries to push him away, looking only a little apologetic. He laughs and holds onto Fret a little tighter while he struggles to get him off. Great, at least someone is having fun around here. Beat and Nagi watch the whole ordeal from the peanut gallery, nothing short of nonplussed.
"Can somebody please get him off me?" Fret whines at them, wrought with embarrassment. He gets the feeling trying to force Rindo off himself, touching him back like this, will only encourage him.
Beat sighs and rotates his shoulder before he steps forward. "Aight, let's go, ya horndog. Quit bein' weird."
Fret shoots him an uneasy but grateful smile. Beat is such a buddy; he can count on him to handle any manhandling.
On the contrary, Rindo sees his approach and his mirthful face falls. He tenses all over with apprehension. He asks Fret out of the corner of his mouth, "is that guy going to kick me again?"
Before Fret can answer, Rindo extracts himself from Fret's sides. He positions himself just in front of him, hand hovering over Fret as he faces Beat almost protectively. Fret tries to ignore the little warmth this sparks in him and stares aghast at Rindo instead.
"Don't tell me you've already forgotten who he is. He just joined us."
"'Joined'?" Fret can hear the confusion in his voice. "What were we doing? Is he a friend of yours?"
Beat pauses to look even more baffled than he did before. At this point, Fret gives up. He zips behind Nagi, who seemed content to observe these events unfold quietly from a distance, and adopts her as his human shield. She eyes his hands on her shoulders with disapproval. The death aura is enough to make Fret let go, so he wrings his hands instead and gives her an imploring look.
"Boss. Please. I'm begging you. Find out what's wrong with him and fix him before something else happens."
She heaves a great sigh of acceptance. "Very well. I shall do what I can."
Nagi arranges her hands into her little 'Dive no jutsu' ("Cease calling it that at once," she scolded him the first time he did so, and Fret continued to not do that, because consistency counts) and asks for her usual pardon while Beat and Rindo continue to eye each other warily.
She closes her eyes to concentrate. After a minute or two, the wrinkle in her forehead deepens, and Nagi grumbles a little "hrrm".
"Well?" Fret pesters, conscious of distracting her but too antsy to go on without asking. "Can you see anything?"
"I can confirm that there is no Noise infection... however..."
She sounds so... dire. Fret can't resist pressing. "What? What is it?"
Nagi hesitates, then shudders. She bows her head towards the ground, face obscured by hair, glasses and shadow. A mumble floats its way up.
"Truly, some thoughts should be left unheard. My brain... it must be cleansed."
Fret pales. What did she hear in there? Fret shoots an apprehensive glare at Rindo, who takes notice soon enough. He breaks his staredown with Beat to flutter his fingers in a small, uneasy wave back at Fret with a slight smile. Fret's arm jerks when he realises he's had to to stop himself from returning it on reflex, feels his jaw tighten, and turns back to Nagi. He decides he has some self-preservation, actually, and kills that line of inquiry dead.
"Before we get the brain bleach," he asks hastily, "tell us what you found out."
"His thoughts are... disjointed, and unclear. I have one hypothesis, but I will require further interrogation before I can ascertain his condition. You may observe from afar."
Nagi starts walking backwards away from them all. The strange movement catches Rindo's attention and she beckons to him with her hand. Rindo raises an eyebrow and turns to Fret again, hesitant.
Fret heaves an exasperated sigh and just nods at him, gesturing that he should go along with it.
"Don't worry, it's only Nagirl. She's our friend, remember? She just wants to ask ya some stuff. Won't take long. Probably."
Rindo doesn't look convinced, but he nods at Fret all the same and wanders after her.
Not much else to do now except wait for Nagi to work her magic. Fret lets loose a sigh that had built up unawares over the past while. He combs his fingers through his hair as he watches from afar.
On his approach, Rindo eyes Nagi warily but seems to relax when she seems to indicate that no, she is not going to dropkick him, too. Nagi wastes no time in launching her inquiry. Whatever she asks, Rindo takes a while to respond and answers in brief. Every so often, he looks back over at Fret, as if he's checking he's still there.
"Man, wouldn't have taken Pinny for a people person," Beat remarks. He crosses his arms behind his head as he contemplates the scene before them.
"I don't think your idea of a 'people person' is quite there, fam," Fret says weakly.
Rindo looks at Fret again for the longest stint yet. He answers Nagi without looking back. Nagi looks like she's trying not to choke. What could they be talking about?
Seriously, Fret still can't believe Rindo basically flirted with him, tried to kiss him, held him, and peeked down his shirt in the space of about seven minutes. The memory alone makes him feel queasy. Rindo, and him. Why Fret, and why now? It's unprecedented, it's bizarre-- like someone swapped out his best buddy for someone that was still essentially Rindo but more... shameless? Sure, Fret finds himself wishing he would be a tad more forthright from time to time, but this is--
Then again, if Fret is honest with himself, he figures Rindo could be the sort to go about what he did in the way he did. Rindo would either be too mortified to do anything or border on shameless as he had done. It checks out, sort of.
But there's a better question at hand; on what planet is Fret seriously considering how Rindo would romance someone? Apparently it's this one; the same planet where the one being romanced is Fret himself. God help him.
"I have returned," Nagi announces and, blissfully, breaks him out of his reverie. She looks exhausted by whatever ordeal she met over there. Fret glances over to see Rindo still standing by the pillar, staring down at the ground with a creased brow and looking conflicted. Nagi follows the path of his eyes and adds, "best leave him be. He will require some time to process this, too."
"So, what's the verdict, Boss?"
"After some questioning, I have gathered that Lord Rindo's symptoms most closely resemble those of someone who is suffering from retrograde amnesia." Nagi rattles this off in her typical, clinical manner. Fret can imagine the clipboard and white coat without much effort. "He does not appear to recall why he is here in Shibuya or anything about the Reapers' Game at all. As he is free from the clutches of the Noise and their influence, my initial thoughts were that the origin of this affliction lies in the form of some injury. On a cursory inspection, however, he has no cranial damage one can see. Alas, this does not completely rule out the possibility that this lapse of recollection is the result of a physical ailment."
"Ya sure it ain't a Noise thing, for real?"
Nagi sighs; Fret can almost see the spirit leave her body.
"Nay, no such possession to be seen. If this is still the fault of the Noise, we have yet to encounter such effects. Even so, head trauma is still the most culpable cause."
"So what's this..." Beat scratches his head, squeezing his eyes shut in thought, "gah, what's it called--"
What did Nagi call it again? "Somethin' like... retrogame amnesia? What, has he, like, forgotten all about Galaxy Interlopers being a thing?"
Nagi gives the pair of them a withering look that would have made lesser humans shrink.
"Retrograde. It involves the loss of more recently established memories. On interacting with Lord Rindo, you will find that his motor functions, base skills and sense of identity are all still present. He knows he is Rindo Kanade, but nothing about any of us or who we are."
She seems finished, but after a careful look at Fret himself, she follows up with, "...including you, it seems."
Fret considers what he can remember of her series of word dumps, then shrugs. "That checks out. You said 'recently', right? Despite his... weirdness, he doesn't seem to know who I am. We know each other from school, but we only go back a couple years-ish."
"Ayo, isn't remindin' people 'bout the stuff they forgot your thing?" Beat gives Fret a jovial nudge.
"Oh, right-- that's a great idea! You da man, Beat. A bit of memory loss is nothing the ol' Fret special can't fix. Alright, let's see here..."
Fret rolls up imaginary sleeves to get in the zone. Visuals of Rindo as Fret has come to know him swim back and forth in his mind's eye. Before he can use his Psyche proper, a hand rests on Fret's arm and breaks his focus. Nagi shakes her head at him, frowning.
"Even if we were to employ the use of your Remind ability, I anticipate it would leave much to be desired. Lord Rindo is already aware of who he is, so that approach is already moot. On previous occasions, you have successfully roused a single event or learned fact from the depths of one's consciousness. We have seen no evidence to suggest any feasibility in achieving the same result with a multitude-- nay, countless memories." Fret opens his mouth to protest, but Nagi doesn't even let him. She ploughs right on. "If one assumes you will reintroduce a single memory at a time; where do you start? Where does it end? Will it take you hours, days? When will it end?"
Beat looks like he's struggling to keep up. Fret isn't far behind him, if he's being honest.
"Caution would also be needed to ensure his memories are sequenced in their entirety and with a method that fashions them into the psychological portrait of the Lord Rindo we have come to know. Tampering with this loose parallel between mind and matter, UG and RG, could irreversibly change the fabric of his psyche. This, of course, does not count the inevitable fact that there are facets of Lord Rindo's past even you are not aware of--"
"You lost us at least a paragraph ago, but I'm taking it's a big, fat 'no' for giving Rindude a little Remind time?"
Nagi nods. "Regrettably, it would be best to simply observe for the foreseeable. The amnesia should run its course and clear of its own accord in due course. Anything of note Lord Rindo should be briefed on for the purposes of the Game's survival can be delivered through word of mouth."
"Gotcha. But none of this explains why he's being so-- that. He acts so strange towards me now. I still dunno what to make of it."
"You mean to say he has never..." Nagi pauses, narrowing her eyes at him, "made... advances towards you in this manner before?"
Fret can't decide if Nagi's attempt at considerate phrasing makes things worse or ultra worse. Beat looks to him too with an expression Fret can't make sense of, which doesn't make it any better.
"Hell no! Rindo barely even talks to girls, or guys, or-- anyone, even, and he's just not like that." It dawns on Fret that he doesn't know what shakes Rindo's boat, actually. Does he even have a preference? Whatever, all bets are off because apparently it's him, now. "Even you know that kinda business is way OOC for him, and you've literally known him about a week."
"I gathered as much from our conversation. For the most part, he is only a slight deviation from the Lord Rindo we have come to rely on; unproblematic, for the most part. His sudden... interest in you is one of few anomalies."
Fret scrubs the back of his head and grunts.
"It ain't half. Dude was hanging off me at one point; I think that's the most physical contact he's had with anyone, except maybe his mama."
Over the time they've known each other, anyway. Fret's charisma and physical friendliness haven't rubbed off on Rindo in the slightest. If anything, he's become more comfortable with how Fret just is around him. That, or he simply gave up. An arm slung over his shoulders or a hand on his arm to drag him somewhere got Fret a Look back in the day, but that was ancient history now. Fret likes to think this progression is a sign of Rindo becoming less distant. He's a little proud of that; he carries the achievement around in his chest like a warm talisman.
"Man. How'd he go from 'head empty' to 'head... that'? Where's it all come from?"
Nagi stays silent. She may clasp her hands a little tighter, but continues to look at him with a solid and unrelenting gaze.
"No one's ever been that..." Fret reaches for a word that fits,"forward with me before, y'know? I... I dunno how to handle it."
Nagi raises her eyebrows with what might be disbelief.
"Are you suggesting that a creature of your ilk does not know how to respond to this type of behaviour?"
"I mean, I do, but this isn't the same!"
"Then prithee; what makes this scenario so different, then?"
Good question. Fret would normally be flattered, right? It's supposed to be a good feeling to get this sort of attention. Validating, even-- it shows he must not be doing something wrong, at least. Fret can't pin what makes this particular situation so... whatever it is. Can he even put a word to it? He strives to be unflappable on all fronts; to bounce back from any interaction no matter how unfavorable, to bring a conversation back from the brink of collapse, because that's how he is.
He tries to imagine this same situation with a different person. Fret would straight up die if Kanon did half of any of that, so that's the end of that thought exercise. Fret thinks of someone else that he's on decent terms with; like one of the more chatty Variabeauties they keep bumping into, or even Beat or Nagi. He might feel a bit awkward, but he'd laugh it off and move on with his life.
But all of that goes out the window because this isn't some sort of conflict, and this is Rindo; he's his friend. Swallow be damned, Fret dares to think they might even be best friends. With Rindo, he feels there's something significant about how he's behaving and treating him now. He doesn't know what it is yet, though.
All he knows is that whatever this is Fret's feeling right now, it isn't embarrassment. Not really. It feels more... ominous than that.
"Well, it's Rindo," Fret gives his answer in all its simplicity and complexity. "Having my Rindude doing all these things is kinda..."
Fret's words peter out as he realises he's not sure where they're going. Again, Nagi has nothing to say.
There's a little cough behind them. They turn to see Rindo has made his way back over, mask snapped in place. Subconsciously, Fret finds that even the mere sight of him so close by again has blood rushing back to his head and he folds his arms over his upper chest in case he tries ogling him again.
Rindo doesn't react to this; in fact, his confusion has made way for an ever present concern now. Fret feels kind of bad for him now; of all the situations to lose your memory, the Reaper's Game is not the one he'd pick. He wonders how much of it Nagi could explain in so little time; if she did at all, it couldn't have been much.
"Hey. Um, Na... gi...?" Rindo trails off shakily, looking to her and phrasing it like a question. Fret thinks he's pretty good at remembering people, but he can't think of anyone who couldn't relate to the anxiety of getting a new someone's name wrong.
She nods in confirmation. "Affirmative.'Tis I."
Rindo relaxes at this and looks between Beat and Fret. "Right. Nagi, she-- filled me in, I think. Looks like I've forgotten some stuff. Sorry if I've seemed... well, off."
"That sucks, man. Dat mean ya gonna keep bein' a creepazoid doe, or you good now?" Beat doesn't seem certain if he should still be vaguely threatening.
"N-No, not if it's a problem," Rindo stammers, eyes sliding over to Fret again.
Beat raises his eyebrows as he looks to him for confirmation too. Fret waves him off, frantic, because that is not something he wants to answer-- any answer feels like it's the wrong one. He returns his arms to their folded position.
"M'kay. We good, then. Sorry 'bout kickin' ya head in before, bro."
Rindo shrugs, nonchalant. "I-It's okay, no worries. Maybe warn me next time, uh...?"
Beat thumps his chest and gives him a cheery grin. "Th'name's Beat! You've only known me a couple'a days, so not much catchin' up to do there."
Fret tightens his arms when Rindo looks to him next. He toys with the lip of his mask, but he doesn't look away. "And..."
Beat looks between them. Eventually, the penny drops-- wow, he almost looks sad.
"Aww man, you fo' real? You forgot all about Fret, too? But you guys're, like, joined at the pelvis!"
Fret chokes. While he tries to recover, Nagi recovers faster and corrects him first. "Hip, Sir Beat. Hip."
"Same difference, yo, they both bones," Beat counters.
"Bonehead," Nagi mutters.
I think I'm boned, Fret despairs.
Rindo blinks hard and wide at the entirety of this interaction. He coughs again for lack of not knowing how else to respond, most likely.
"Well, uh, F-Fret. It's nice to meet you... again, I guess."
Curiously, Rindo decides to lift the mask down onto his chin. Fret finds a tiny, hesitant smile waiting there for him. Fret turns his head away and hopes to god Rindo can't see the red tips of his ears from this angle.
"Y-Yeah. Same."
Things go quiet for a while. Beat scuffs the ground with one of his shoes and whistles. "Aight then. Le's go grab a bite before we try fillin' the guy in with all our crap, ya dig? I could do with a refresha, too. Game's changed a lot since my day."
"A sound plan." Nagi sounds re-energised at the mere notion of food as they both start to make their way down the street. They shoot suggestions of where to go back and forth as they go.
Fret moves to go and follow after them, but something stops him in place.
"Hey, wait. Your hands..."
Whoa, Rindo's got close again. Before Fret can react, he's already cupped Fret's hands in his own. He treats them soft, like they're something fragile, so gently; not what Fret expects.
"What happened to you? Did you fall?"
He traces a finger over a cut that has already began to scab over, removing some of the grit. Fret isn't sure if it's pain or surprise that Rindo Kanade is feeling up his hands now that makes him jump. Rindo jumps too and looks, of all things, upset that he caused it. Fret tries to put him at ease with a classic carefree smile, but for the first time, it's a real struggle. By the feel of it, whatever comes out does so undesirably lopsided.
"Oh, don't worry about it. Just some scratches and scrapes from before, you wouldn't remember. A dose from a good healing pin will patch me up, no problem."
"'Pin'?" Rindo parrots, pausing his inspection of Fret's knuckles.
Hoo, boy. "That's a lot to catch you up on; too much for even my galaxy brain right now, dude. We'll get you up to speed later. Food first, like they said."
Rindo frowns like he's mulling something over. He looks ahead and Fret follows suit; Beat and Nagi are a fair distance away, having seemingly decided on where they'll eat next. He looks back to Fret, hesitant again.
Then, with a softness in his eyes Fret has never seen before, Rindo presses his hands to his mouth.
It sounds like a car crash just happened, except it's exclusive to the inside of Fret's head and there's more fire than what could be considered typical for an accident. It explains the sheer heat enveloping his face right now.
"What," Fret whispers furiously, "are you doing?"
Rindo stills. He has the gall to look sheepish. "Haha, I... thought I'd kiss it better. What, too much?"
"Yes!" Fret hisses, snatching his hands back and confirming that no, Beat and Nagi didn't see any of that. He puts a few feet of distance between him and Rindo, feeling skittish and jumpy and the phantom heat of Rindo's hands and lips lingering on his skin. He shivers.
"Sorry," Rindo walks up behind him again. He brushes against the back of one of Fret's hands with his own; a real feather touch, this time. "I... guess I don't like the idea of you being hurt. Enough to try and do something stupid, anyway."
Fret side-eyes him, askance. Rindo's pulled his mask back over his mouth, which-- now that Fret thinks about it, he hasn't seen him do this so often in ages. He's even staring down at his feet rather than looking at Fret or the street around them. Man, he really has forgotten a lot if he's acting like this again. This is more like Rindo was at the beginning of high school.
Fret looks ahead again. Embarrassment is starting to make way for guilt. Even if Rindo wouldn't normally do or say such things in a million years, it's nice that he's still looking out for him even after he's forgotten all about him. They became friends at first somehow, after all, for... whatever reason.
The kissing thing, though. It's just-- surprising. That's all. Fret is surprised.
He counts a long breath in, then back out. C'mon, be cool about this.
Fret reaches out to cuff Rindo by the back of his head, following through to fluff his hair forward before lifting away. "I'm sorry too, man. Feels like I'm flipping out at every little thing now. It's been a helluva day. I'll buy you a soda, wherever we're going, if they have it."
Rindo pats at his hair absently, giving Fret a flustered but happy look as he tries to put it back to rights. When he's done, his hands slide down the sides of his head until they appear to catch on something and he stops dead in his tracks.
"Since when did I get my ears pierced?" Rindo gasps aloud. He twists the white studs in place, looking bewildered but not put off.
Fret brightens at the opportunity to reminisce with his friend. This is a good chance to make up for his being... whatever. Plus, maybe it would help jog his memory by doing it the old fashioned way? He beams over at Rindo and the smile slides easy over his face. At last, an interaction Fret does know how to handle; a welcome return to normalcy.
"Oh, we did that together! Ever since I got my new ones in, you wouldn't stop looking at 'em. One day, once we'd met up after school, you were curious enough to ask about where I got them done."
He almost absently rubs his hand past the shell of his own ear in memory, reveling in the smooth feel of the metal beneath. Fret was sure he did the same thing back then, too, when Rindo first approached him about it. His eyes glowed with an almost child-like wonder as he watched Fret's hand, just as he does now. With all that's happened, though, the present Rindo's fascination seems less wondrous and more... hungry is the best word for it. Fret tries to ignore it along with the lurch in his stomach it stokes in him.
"You'd been toying around with the idea for a while, so I gave you that one final push you needed to take the plunge! When the next holiday came around, I took you to the 'Buya without telling you where we were going at first." Fret feels his smile growing wider still; it had been such a fun day, and he likes to think Rindo thought the same. "You wouldn't let on, but I think part of why you waited so long was 'cause you were a little scared about how much it would hurt! The guy I know in Udagawa does an amazing job though, and you were fine.
"I tried and utterly failed to convince you to get your cartilage done-- y'know, like mine-- but hey, baby steps. Lobes are fine for your first time if you're not that adventurous. If you ended up not liking them, you could take them out and they'd just close over, if you let 'em. Easy enough."
Rindo nods at him, having been rapt with attention since Fret started speaking. He rubs over a piercing with renewed interest.
"That makes sense. I don't really--"
Rindo's eyes widen as Fret is so caught up in recollection that he closes some distance between them to reach out for Rindo's ear himself. He cups a hand around it and he looks at it this way and that, watching the piercing under different light. Just remembering being stood in the parlor again with Rindo fills Fret with excitement.
"I helped pick these out with you; otherwise you would've stood there 'til they closed up shop! I'd say that was about... three months back? Maybe four. Enough time for them to have really grown on you."
"Think so?" Rindo asks vaguely. His eyes linger on Fret's hand.
"Yeah, and-- I told you this back then, too-- these never go out of fashion. Everyone will always look way cooler with piercings until, like, the end of time. You're no exception, my dude." And, because speaking like this with Rindo again is such a comforting return to their usual interactions, Fret punctuates this with a playful wink when he pulls away.
It's a mistake. He knows it when Rindo stops messing with the earring and stares at him for a little too long before he cocks an eyebrow. Rindo at least has the decency to lower his volume when he asks, in a tone of voice that might be him trying to be humorous that ends up almost sultry instead, "sooo, you got any... other piercings I might've forgotten about?"
Oh my god. "Ha ha," Fret dies a bit more as each breath forces itself out. He doesn't know how else to respond. He does know to stamp down on the 'and then what ;)' his brain unhelpfully supplies afterward-- nope, Fret is not letting him have that one.
He signs off on the happy memory that has now transfigured into an oddly seductive one, turns on his heel and marches on without another word before anyone can see his face. It's hard to speak anymore with Rindo's words replaying over and over in his head.
He's going to need hella carbs to get through this one. Wherever they're going, Fret hopes they have loaded fries. He'll load them himself, if he has to-- directly into his mouth, hoping that in the event Rindo does something else that gets him to make an embarrassing noise again, it's stifled by starch.