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There was a picture frame on Reni’s desk.
In the midst of piles of paperwork, overworked scripts, and hefty black binders, there it always was, on the table with so much certainty that Haruto was never completely sure that it’s not glued in place.
Once, when he was doubled over trying to catch his breath from practically sprinting across the building to get to his office, he caught Reni staring at it through the crack in the door. He had picked up the frame by the side, their other hand a fist resting on his cheek.
It was overcast that day; the drifting clouds cast shadows that carved traces of wrinkles at the corner of their eyes. He wasn’t looking at the frame so much as he was looking through it, taking it in his hands like it was made of glass, the weight of the world in one picture.
It rained the rest of that week.
Of course, of course, of course he’s curious. Who wouldn’t be? Reni’s private life was kept under lock and key, the only other hint tucked away in a safe hidden in plain sight. Questions about his past always came up in interviews, people asking about a family or a significant other, and they would, as they always did, answer perfectly—perfectly vague.
“Ah, yes, well, it has been quite a while since I’ve seen my parents,” they had said decades ago in one of those live segments on television that Haruto had found online, “but I should think that they are proud of me, hm?”
Should think, huh? Well… The breath he took after ‘parents’ was too stilted to be deliberate.
Only when Haruto paused the video was it apparent how dull their eyes were: a purple so muted it was practically grey.
You and me both, Reni.
“Could ya quit walkin’ so damn fast?”
Walking was putting it lightly. Even from a few feet behind, it was plain to see that Shift was doing everything in his power to not start sprinting down the hall.
“Eh?” Shift spun around on his heels. His eyes took in the distance he had accidentally put between the two of them and then crinkled shut with a smile and sheepish chuckle. “Sorry about that, Haruto.”
Haruto replied, “It’s fine, it’s fine,” as he caught up, annoyed that he genuinely meant it. Every little aggravating thing that Shift did, from his liberal use of body spray to his need to hit the top of every door frame that he walked through—all was forgiven, always forgiven, because the kid was practically made of sincerity. No one could stay mad at him for long when he flashed that stupidly contagious smile, and he had once even gotten Reni to laugh along with his grating giggles. It was his biggest strength, and he knew it.
They continued walking. “What’s gotten you so amped up, though?”
“You mean, besides getting to see what’s inside Reni’s safe?” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“No, I mean—ugh, never mind.” Haruto waved his hand dismissively, clearing the air of their voices. “Just don’t be in such a hurry next time. See? We’re already here.”
Reni had opted for a dimmer knob in his office as opposed to a conventional light switch, probably for aesthetic reasons more than anything else. The lights were often on the muted side more often than not, so Haruto set them to about the same level. Although the air conditioner had been turned off, the two were immediately struck by the chill in the air, exacerbated by the cold marble flooring. A gust of wind arrived from behind the desk, numbing his hands as he reached up to shut a window that had been left open.
He turned around. The picture frame was right there. Glare from the ceiling lights blocked most of the photo, but from where he was standing, he could just barely make out shapes that vaguely resembled people. Obviously, he’d be able to get a better look if he just moved forward, but his brain and his legs just wouldn’t cooperate.
It was just a picture. But it was Reni’s picture, and that made all the difference. To take that next step, to cross the boundary into his personal life… it was simply unthinkable. Reni held the world at an arm’s length. If he wanted Haruto in his life as anything more than one of his actors—as friends, hell, even as family—he would have made it clear by now.
He gave it up. Right, the two of them were here for the safe, after all. Shift was off in the corner, staring at the shelves of accolades and awards that the troupe had earned over the years. They shined, even in the low light. People were usually drawn to them when they entered the office, oohing and aahing at every prestigious title they had rightfully earned.
The look on Shift’s face wasn’t quite one of admiration, though. If Haruto had to put a name to the glint in his eyes and that pursed lip that was somewhere between a smile and a smirk, it would have to be determination. It’s moments like this that reminded him that not only did this fifteen-year-old kid (and he was a kid, height be damned) steal the top-actor position from right under him, but he completely earned it.
For now, at least.
“Oi, Shift.” Haruto cocked his head in the direction of the safe. “I’m opening it now.”
Shift made his way over to Haruto just in time to hear him mumble the code under his breath.
"1991? That’s...” His voice cut through the air like a blade. Haruto shuddered in surprise, but he didn’t turn to listen as Shift continued, “...a really bad safe code."
Haruto nodded. "Too easy to crack. But who knows? Maybe it means something to Reni."
"Maybe? I thought you knew everything about them."
At any other time, this would have been the beginning of a competition between them. Shift would provoke Haruto (“Oh, so you can’t do three cartwheels in a row?”), and he would always take the bait (“What the hell? I could do four, so shut it and watch!”). Even when these little clashes ended with his sore ass on cold concrete, Haruto couldn’t deny that in spite of all his grumbling and eye-rolling, he didn’t hate his rivalry with Shift.
“Never felt like I could ask about their personal life.” He half-heartedly punched in the combination. “Besides, you know him, too. He’s got that...” He clicked his tongue. “You know. He’s hard to approach. Distant.” The safe emitted a harsh buzz, but a shake of the handle from Haruto failed to open the safe. He huffed. “Let me try that again.”
Shift hummed a confused tone. “But I think if anyone could talk to them like that, it’d be you, wouldn’t it? Since he trusts you, I mean.”
“I guess.” Haruto entered the first half of the code, but kept his finger hovering above the nine. “Why do you care so much, anyway?” It came out a little harsher than he intended.
“Well, I owe him a lot.” There was that matter-of-fact tone of voice again, but with it came a strange sense of weight in his words. Before Haruto could press him further, he continued, “I know you said they felt distant, but I think they’re lonely, more than anything. It wouldn’t hurt if you tried to get close to him, is all I’m saying.”
He finished inputting the code. “Maybe so.”
A soft beep, a light pull, and the safe was open.
The diary inside was hardcover, all sharp edges and gold borders; only upon further inspection did its age show in deep creases and subtle fraying. Reni was always the type to invest their time and money only on things that would last. However, the manuscript underneath couldn’t have belonged to him—the brush strokes on the cover were too thick. Their penmanship tended towards tall and thin.
They had gotten what they came here for. So why did Haruto feel like he wasn’t quite done yet?
A phone vibrated. Shift let out a little oh as he checked his pockets before breaking out into a wide grin.
“It’s Azami.” He pointed to his phone, then out towards the hallway, indicating he wanted to take the call by himself. Haruto waved him off, and he walked out of the room in large strides.
Left by himself, Haruto’s thoughts wandered back towards the picture—and found that his body had done the same. He took a deep breath. At the end of the day, this was merely a photo frame; Reni was just a person, no matter how brilliant he was.
And so, he finally looked.
Reni looked the same as he always did, the only indicator of his age being the length of their hair stopping just past their shoulders. They were smiling. It wasn’t the self-satisfied smirk Haruto was used to. Maybe it was just the overexposed lighting (it was an old photo, after all), but their face was brighter, with a slight crinkle in their eyes. They wore peacefulness well.
He had seen that look on Reni’s face only once before; hours ago, following their loss at the showdown act. At the time, he had chalked it up to simply needing to look graceful in front of their rivals. But even their tone had softened and gave way to silk which coated his words in an undeniable gentleness. They were never one for such simple praise; the way their approval resonated in Haruto’s head was foreign.
There were other people in the photo; two graceful-looking men, one with snow-white hair, the other tall and imposing, both leveling icy glares at another man caught in the middle of a pratfall straight out of a cartoon. But the person who caught Haruto’s attention was the plainest one of them all. Whoever this person was, he was definitely a mess, from the sweatshirt haphazardly tied around his shoulders to his lazily combed brown hair. Even so, the Reni in the photo was looking at him and his cat-like grin with adoration. The man wasn’t looking back at him, instead facing the camera.
He put the frame down.
“Haruto!” Shift dragged out the end of his name like a siren. “We gotta go!”
“Keep it down! I can hear you just fine.” Haruto turned off the lights and shut the door behind him softly. The two of them walked down the hall, side by side.
“So why’d your friend call you up so late?” He had gathered that there was some kind of friction between the two of them, but he had never bothered to ask about it directly.
“Azami?” Just saying his name made his eyes light up. “Oh, well, he was just wondering if the two of us wanted to come to his troupe’s afterparty, and since we’re gonna be there anyway to drop off Reni’s things, I was all like, ‘Heck yeah!’”
“‘Heck yeah?’” The dopey grin on Shift’s face only made him more indignant. “Hell no! Did ya forget that we’re supposed to be rivals? And what’s with this ‘two of us’ crap, anyway? Don’t include me in yer plans all of a sudden!”
He laughed Haruto off. “Relax! I bet it’ll be a lot more fun than going out to a restaurant. Azami told me all about this guy in his troupe who’s like, some kinda master chef, so that’ll really be something. And hey, even if the food’s not good, at least it’s free, right?”
Damn it. Who could say no to free food?
“Fine, then.” Haruto crossed his arms. ”Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to stop by for a bit and grace them with our presences.”
He clutched the diary and manuscript close to his chest as he walked against the wind. No matter how long he’d lived in the city, Haruto could never get used to how empty the night skies were. What he knew to be a deep blue was instead a dull black, and the lights that adorned the streets overpowered the stars and reduced them to a fraction of their number.
Haruto looked up, noting the distance between the stars—and prayed they’d meet in the distant future.