Chapter Text
The streets this time of night were always so active, both sides of the pavement bustling with enthusiastic children running home for the night and fatigued workers just trying their best to make their way home. The sun barely vanished past the horizon, yet the lively atmosphere in the streets acted as if it was still midday. But everything was especially crowded around this time of year.
This fairly large town was most well-known for one thing; it’s illustrious theatre. It was home to one of the most internationally renowned theatre troupes to ever be formed, rivaling even that of the notorious Shakespearean plays most theatre-goers had gone to watch at least once in their life.
However, this time of year was nothing more than a bother to some people, and for Shu in particular.
Somehow, Shu had held a continuous friendship with the troupe’s leader, Wataru Hibiki; prominent actor and creator of many highly anticipated productions. That in and of itself was shocking to begin with. After all, this said “leader” had quite the eccentric personality, to say the least. To make a long story short, he’d been tasked with making the stage costumes for their latest production. Not all of them, of course, that would have been absurd. He was simply put in charge of designing and creating the main casts’ costumes. This particular play had a relatively smaller cast this time around, and it’s not like he had much else to do.
Shu happened to enjoy the theatre after all. The benefits of making the stage costumes himself was the fact that he’d receive free tickets to the show. Wataru, to his dismay, would usually send him an extra ticket that he did not need. He’d say something along the lines of “for your plus one”, knowing very well Shu had no such person.
Though, he would often bring his apprentice, Mika, to tag along. Mika wasn’t always available as he had his own busy life, and one that was far more interesting than Shu’s, but even so, the very gesture of giving Shu two tickets was almost like a stab in the gut.
He knew exactly what the man was implying whenever he did that and it annoyed him beyond belief. Shu hardly had the time to waste on himself, let alone another person. It wasn’t his top priority; he wasn’t even sure if it was one of his priorities to begin with. The whole “romance” idea he had pictured in his head (more frequently than he’d care to admit) was far too unrealistic, and he was aware of that. He knew reality was cruel and no such love could ever exist. The romantic stories he’d often read about in his free time were nothing but ill-fated promises and wishful thinking; a ruse to give people baseless hope only for them to end up disappointed.
But Shu was fine with that. Getting to do what he loved every single day was far more rewarding than putting his time and effort into a relationship that would ultimately fall to shambles. He had a rather complicated personality after all; he was only sparing a potential partner the trouble.
Despite all of that though, his friend was still quite dear to him so he let it slide. His theatre productions were always so extravagant, so breathtaking, sometimes even Shu would forget that it was all make-believe. The time and effort put into everything from the scripts to the stage props, it was simply remarkable. And there was nothing like seeing your own hard work being worn by such talented actors. It made his work feel so real and appreciated.
Yet there was a reason he’d never say that to Wataru’s face. For one, he couldn’t. He could go over exactly what he’d planned to say in his head a thousand times, but when it came down to it, all he could muster up were his critical words of how he could improve the production, even if there were hardly any improvements needed to begin with. Secondly, the man would take it way too far. He would hold it over Shu’s head until the day he died and he certainly didn’t need that.
So Shu settled for something in the middle of those two extremes. He would briefly congratulate him on a wonderful performance and go on with his day. It had worked countless other times he’d been invited to these things, why wouldn’t it work now?
Shu stood just outside the theatre, occasionally tapping his cane on the floor with a growing impatience. He’d usually meet his friend shortly after each show. There wasn’t much need for it to begin with, but the two liked to catch up every once in a while, and this was simply the perfect time to do so. Both of their schedules were so busy (or so Shu claimed), that they could hardly ever find a suitable time to meet up. These short run-ins after the shows would have to suffice.
From the corner of his eye, he could spot Wataru’s very energetic run. For someone who had just finished up a lengthy show, he looked as youthful as a child. He would have seen him sooner if not for the fact that the man’s hair was tied up into an updo of some sort. His hair was such a defining feature, he almost couldn’t identify him without it.
“Shu~ ♪ I am so delighted you could make it!” He called from across the pavement, making his way over to the other. Despite his previous thought, up close he seemed quite exhausted, even if a normal person couldn’t tell at first glance. Shu had impeccable eyesight after all and he knew the few friends he had like the back of his hand.
“Hm, if it was such a hassle there was no need to meet me afterwards.” Shu skipped the greeting and went straight to his usual antics.
The long haired man let out a flashy laugh, gaining the attention of a few onlookers that walked past, “What did you think? Was it to your liking?~ ☆”
Shu readjusted his hat before responding, “It was acceptable. I believe it highlighted my designs rather nicely, did it not?”
The two had been friends for so long that it was clear what Shu really meant. It was his way of giving compliments, strangely enough. Wataru knew this, so he simply responded with a smile, “Why, of course!” Not even two seconds went by before the man was frantically looking around the area as if he was searching for something he’d expected to be there, “No guest tonight?”
An involuntary sigh escaped Shu’s mouth before he turned his head away, “For the last time, quit wasting such valuable tickets. You know very well it will not be put to use, so why bother?” He then pulled a neatly-kept ticket from his coat pocket, carefully handing it back to his friend. It was their typical routine of sorts. Shu would always return the unused ticket, and the other wouldn’t say a single word in response. The man truly was an enigma; he simply couldn’t seem to figure him out.
Instead of receiving a clear cut answer, the actor spun around once, beginning his walk back into the theatre.
“One day, Shu! You just have to have patience~ ☆”
Honestly. Sometimes he wondered how he was able to maintain this odd friendship of theirs. Clearly Shu had no interest in what his friend was implying but he just never knew when to give up. Not that it mattered, Shu wasn’t sure there was anything he could do about it anyway. Even if he did wish for that type of relationship one day, god forbid, nobody would actually want him, surely. To his friends, he made his life sound so extravagant, so full of life and energy. He made it sound as if he was constantly busy with work, that he was swamped with customers on a daily basis without a single day’s break. This couldn’t be farther from the truth, however.
In actuality, his business was beginning to decline. Nobody really appreciated the beauty and significance of the gorgeous antique dolls he would make. He would get the occasional elderly woman looking to buy a doll for her grandchild or for her personal collection, but even that was an anomaly.
So, he was forced to live off of the expenses he’d received from his parents. When he first started his business, he had sealed their money away, refusing to even look at it. Shu wanted nothing more than to make a living on his own. He wanted to create the kind of dolls that had given him so much comfort in his early years to not only comfort himself now as an adult, but others as well. Yet it seemed he was the only person who saw their true significance.
That made these nights in particular very painful in a way.
Shu was by no means an envious person. Everything he did was for himself and him alone. He didn’t seek out the opinions of others to fuel his ego, nor did he care much for those who’d judge him for it. Yet during the nights he’d go to watch Wataru’s beautifully produced plays, he couldn’t help but to feel a single ounce of jealousy. Not because of Wataru’s acting abilities or fame, definitely not.
It was because of his expression.
Even on stage when he was supposed to be playing a part, Wataru always looked so happy. From the noticeable sparkle in his eyes to the helplessly confident tone in his voice, he always looked as if it was the happiest day of his life. Happy that he was able to give the audience such a moving performance, to speak to their hearts in the ways normal words couldn’t.
That is what made Shu so envious.
Oh, what he wouldn’t give to see that kind of expression on his customers’ faces. To hand a young child the doll they’d always wanted, basking in the way their eyes light up and watching their smile grow from ear to ear. To see that random person passing by the window of his shop, only to stop and admire the beautiful craftsmanship of the dolls Shu poured his entire being into. He wanted someone to take his dolls home and finally give them a place they deserve, one filled with nothing but love and adoration.
Shu wanted that. He wanted it so bad, and yet it was something he couldn’t have. To others, his dolls were creepy and outdated, unsettling even. They would be looked at with so much disgust. Not only that, but they’d look at Shu with that very same expression. Shu couldn’t care less what they thought of him, but to show his dolls such disrespect, it felt horrible.
As much as it hurt to see them constantly treated that way, Shu still couldn’t help the warm feeling in his chest whenever he’d look at his own creations. They made him feel so happy, like his life was worth something. But clearly, nobody else appreciated them the way he did.
He tried to rid himself of these thoughts as Shu finally hopped onto the train, taking a seat inside one of the empty compartments. The evening rush hour had subsided enough to the point where he wasn’t shoulder to shoulder with people, but naturally, every other compartment was full.
With the last call from the train conductor, he sighed with immense relief. It seemed he’d have this space all to himself for once. It almost never happened, especially on show nights. He could finally find a moment to relax, something he’d desperately needed after being in such crowded areas earlier that night.
Right before the train started moving, the compartment doors opened rather abruptly, startling Shu into locking eyes with the perpetrator.
It was a man about his age, perhaps maybe even a little older. His clearly untamed red hair was tied into a short ponytail and barely kept at bay with a worn out hat, his clothes in a similar condition. The clothes weren’t bad by any means; however, the colors were atrocious. That was just Shu’s artistic criticism speaking though. He quickly took it upon himself to sit across from Shu, leaning back in the seat and catching his breath.
When the stranger finally noticed Shu glaring at him, he smiled, “Sorry, hope ya don’t mind the intrusion!”
Well, it could be a lot worse, Shu had thought. He’d rather sit next to one random stranger than 5 random strangers, all stuck in this tiny train compartment. Shu then gave him an affirmative head nod. If he could avoid speaking with this person, he would, and so far he seemed to be quiet enough.
But of course, misfortune seemed to follow Shu everywhere he went.
The redhead leaned forward, now a little too close to Shu for comfort, “Hey, your clothes are real pretty! Did ya get kicked outta first class or somethin’?”
Ignoring that comment about his monetary status for a moment, Shu still relished in the fact that this man had called his self-made clothes “pretty”. As much as the idea of riding in first class pleased him, he didn't have the funds to do such a thing. After all, he probably got a total of one customer per day, if that. Every single penny he earned went towards the necessities like food and mortgage, and whatever was left he’d use to purchase materials for making dolls and clothes. Not to mention the additional side jobs he’d been forced to take up as a result of refusing his parents’ help. His pride simply wouldn’t allow it.
“Of course they are. I made them myself,” Shu never really liked bragging to unassuming strangers, but he was far too tired to care about social norms at this point.
“Woah— you made these? Like, by yourself?”
“Yes, by myself. Is that not what I just said?” The tone in Shu’s voice gave away his increasing annoyance, but the other didn’t seem to even bat an eye.
He took a quick glance at the redhead; a grave mistake on his part. The man’s bright blue eyes were laser focused on the golden hand-sewn details of Shu’s vest all the way to the elegant cane Shu gripped in his right hand. Had he not been so exhausted, he would have lashed out at him for unwanted staring. But perhaps he felt a little flattered that someone was admiring his work without a judgmental eye for once.
The man straightened his back again, resting the side of his foot on his leg, “Ya sure are talented~ So, ‘s that your job then? Makin’ clothes?”
Surely this guy liked the sound of his own voice a little too much. So much for a quiet train ride home. Well that is what he got for leaving his house for once. Never again.
“No, my occupation lies elsewhere.” Shu responded, hoping that would be the end of the conversation. Telling people what he did was never a pleasant conversation. They would always be confused; that would be their first emotion. Then, they would pretend to think it’s interesting, only to give him a disgusted look afterwards and proceed to badmouth him behind his back. He was used to it at this point. He’d never see this man again so there was really no harm in telling him. Other than an awkward train ride, that is.
Shu continued, “I am a dollmaker.” Usually this would be the part where the other participant would grow confused, sometimes they’d even feel weirded out and quickly find a way out of the conversation. Shu couldn’t understand why; his job was completely normal, so perhaps it was simply the fact that he was so young and in such a peculiar field.
The stranger tilted his head slightly, “Ya make dolls? Like, the kind kids play with or the glass kind that are always sittin’ in those old antique shops?”
“You certainly ask a lot of questions, don’t you,” Shu scowled at him. He gripped the handle of his cane with increased pressure until his knuckles turned white. He wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, he just wasn’t used to prolonged social interaction and this situation was becoming increasingly more awkward as time went on. Plus, these types of conversations made him especially nervous, “Both, I suppose. Though I specialize in making porcelain dolls.”
Shu had come up with several potential responses in his head, but none of which matched up with what his actual response was. The other leaned forward again, “Woah, that’s pretty neat! I’ve never met a dollmaker before, but I definitely wasn’t expectin’ to meet one so young and beautiful. I always just assumed they were all old men.” A light chuckle left his throat.
Perhaps he should’ve felt offended that this random stranger he just met had practically said his profession was for old people, but the compliments greatly outshined that minor detail. Had receiving such praise always felt this gratifying? Nobody ever found his job interesting in the slightest, other than the very few close friends he had. Maybe he was dreaming, he was rather tired after all. It all just seemed too good to be true.
Shu lowered his head slightly, beginning to feel himself grow more exhausted by the minute, “Is that so.” The other person quickly nodded in response as he inched closer to the train window. He’d been looking out at nothing but pitch black with the occasional glimmer of light, yet he still looked astonished. What a strange guy. This stranger must have been one of those people who’d get excited at the smallest of things. It honestly reminded him of a certain apprentice of his.
Upon further inspection, Shu had noticed a worn out bandage wrapped around the stranger’s hand. It wasn’t at all wrapped correctly and the bandage looked like it had most definitely seen better days.
“Your hand,” Shu pointed out, concern eminent in his voice, “You ought to bandage it properly.”
The man glanced down at his hand then back up at Shu, giving him a helpless smile, “Ah, I burnt myself at work the other day, I just haven’t had the chance to change them. No big deal, it wasn’t bleedin’ or anythin’.”
He wasn’t entirely sure what came over him, but Shu found himself opening up his briefcase and rummaging through it until he stumbled upon some spare bandages. Injuries were inevitable in his line of work, regardless of how skilled he was, so he always made sure to carry some kind of first aid with him wherever he went. He promptly took the roll and handed it to the other, “Here. It isn’t good to keep the same bandage on, it should be replaced regularly. I recommend treating it with the correct ointments when you return home to avoid an infection.”
The redhead just stared at him, honestly baffled. He then let out a laugh that was far too loud for Shu’s liking, “You’re a strange person.” Even so, he gladly accepted the bandages being offered to him, “Thanks.”
After a brief moment of silence, the stranger shifted his gaze back to Shu, “Ya never told me your name, by the way.”
“You never asked.” He replied. This man certainly was odd, striking up a conversation as if the two had known each other for years, but for some reason, Shu believed it to be rather refreshing. Not many people take the time to converse with strangers on a train, especially not in a friendly manner. The typical etiquette most people from this area followed was simple; keep to yourself. Not only was it efficient in getting things done, but it was relatively safer as well.
The taller one smiled, “The name’s Rinne Amagi,” he extended his hand, the one that wasn’t poorly bandaged, “And you?”
Rinne… It was a peculiar name for such a tall, well-built man, but nevertheless it suited him in a way. He couldn’t really explain why.
“Shu Itsuki.” He finally responded, hesitantly taking the other’s hand and giving it a firm shake.
If he’d looked away a second earlier, he would have missed the split second where the stranger almost had a surprised look on his face. He couldn’t quite tell whether it was the mention of his name or the abrupt handshake.
Rinne let go and smiled once again, his expression reverting back to his usual grin, “Nice to meet ya, Shu-kun!”
Shu swore he could feel his eye twitching the second his name left the other’s lips. Acting all familiar, who did this guy think he was? Nobody had ever gotten all buddy-buddy with Shu this quickly so he hadn’t a clue as to how to respond in a situation like this.
Correcting the man would serve to be a complete waste of time, so he decided against it. There really was no harm in it anyway. Again, he thought it was refreshing. A nice change in the way things usually operated, which was odd considering Shu’s usual stance on the topic.
“Likewise,” Shu nodded, turning his head to gaze out the darkened window. There was honestly nothing significant beyond the glass; just endless shadow with the occasional passing light from a lone house. Not even the stars could be seen, after all, it had been cloudy for nearly three days now. And in all honesty, it was beginning to mess with Shu’s artistic flow.
While he was a dollmaker by title, and it’s what he claimed as his occupation, designing clothes was yet another thing he was passionate about. If he was being honest, he loved it just about the same amount as he loved making dolls. Perhaps he kept his design hobby as more of a passion project, so that way, it would never feel like a job to him. “Do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life”; that is how the saying went. He used to believe that wholeheartedly, but now he wasn’t so sure.
With this odd few days of art block completely consuming him, he was glad for an opportunity to get out of his house to view his friend’s theatre production. Perhaps he thought it would fuel his drive to create, and it usually did. Wataru’s plays were so awe inspiring that he’d oftentimes return home with a plethora of ideas just waiting to be executed. He would stay up until the sun rose once again, new concepts drawn on paper scattered across every surface in his workshop. Those nights were when he felt the most at peace, and he could almost forget the fact that he was losing precious hours of sleep over it.
But this time, he couldn’t say for certainty that his current art block had dissipated. In fact, he felt no different than when he left his house earlier that afternoon. It happens often though, so he chose not to fret over it.
The rest of the train ride was surprisingly quiet. The stranger sharing a compartment with him didn’t say much else apart from their initial conversation, but from the look on his face he looked as if he most definitely wanted to say something. A part of Shu was curious as to what the man so desperately wished to say, but he honestly enjoyed the tranquility so he didn’t dare disturb the peace.
Once the train came to a full stop, Shu grabbed hold of his cane and his briefcase before exiting the small compartment, red headed stranger in tow behind him. As if the train ride wasn’t awkward enough, Shu could feel a pair of eyes staring daggers into the back of his head. At this point he should have simply turned around and told the man that if he had something to say, he should say it. He refrained, naturally. He was surrounded by strangers and causing a scene was something he often tried to avoid.
Shu let it go for a while until the staring persisted, even after departing from the train station and long into his brisk walk home.
Finally, he’d had enough. Shu turned around rather abruptly, a fed-up expression apparent on his face, “Alright, is there a reason for you to be following me?!”
Not that Rinne thought Shu couldn’t detect his presence, but he definitely wasn’t expecting him to say anything, so it did startle him slightly. The redhead smiled, picking up the pace only to walk side by side with the pink haired man.
“Y’know what’s funny, I was gonna say the same thing to you.” He responded all nonchalantly, as if following a person home from the train station wasn’t creepy in the slightest.
Shu shuffled to the side, creating a bit of distance between the two on the pavement, “What do you mean?”
“I think we’re neighbors~”
“Excuse me..?”
Rinne nodded, readjusting the hat sitting on his head as the wind threatened to blow it away, “You own the antique doll shop across the street from a saloon right?”
Without stopping completely in his tracks, his footsteps slowed, his eyes cautiously shifting towards the direction of the other, “How did you..?”
“I live on the second floor of that saloon, right across from you~”
This time, he stopped entirely. Partly because of how confused he was but mostly due to the fact that they’d somehow made it back to Shu’s shop within the time they’d been talking. How long had this guy known? Was he toying with him the entire time knowing who he was?
“How did you-“ he repeated before being abruptly cut off.
“Your name,” Rinne began, “It’s written on the sign in front of your store.”
Ah. So that was why he seemed so surprised when Shu told him his name. He was honestly relieved to know he wasn’t just being stalked by some random guy with a hidden agenda. Even so, this man was still quite bothersome. He definitely had the type of personality Shu couldn’t ever seem to get along with. Knowing now that the two were unknowingly neighbors that whole time made the situation increasingly more complicated.
Shu couldn’t accept this. Surely he would have at least seen this man once before. Then again, he never really found the opportunity to greet his neighbors, and to be honest, he didn’t quite care to.
“How come I have never seen you then? If you truly lived there, I would have run into you before.” He asked, highly skeptical of the person in front of him.
The taller one just shrugged his shoulders, “Beats me. Y’know, I always wondered what kind of person owned that doll shop, but I’d never seen ‘em before. Almost as if they never go outside.”
His tone almost sounded like he was mocking Shu, and he probably was. Once again, it felt like a sharp stab in the chest; utter betrayal and from a stranger he’d just met no less. Shu was aware of his self-inflicted social isolation, but he wasn’t aware of the fact that others might have caught on as well.
He was slightly embarrassed, to say the least.
“T-That-“ he scoffed, turning his head away from him, “I am rather busy. I hardly have the time to run about in the streets like a ruffian.”
“Right, right..” Rinne chuckled. He promptly took the brim of his cloth hat and tipped it downwards, making a motion akin to a bow before beginning his walk across the street. He tossed the roll of bandages Shu gave him into the air a few times, “Guess I'll see ya around then, Shu-kun!”
Before Shu could even refute the man, he had disappeared into the saloon across the street.
Rinne Amagi. What a strange guy. But he supposed he’d be seeing a lot more of him, as much as the idea pained him to think about.