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Rui has a lot of interests. Robotics, theatrical performances, platypuses, soda candy, the list goes on. One of his favorites though, with sadly the least amount of research done on them, has to be soulmate strings. Specifically, how soulmate strings develop over the course of a relationship.
For the majority of his life, Rui’s string was simple. It was going to be until he met his soulmate. A thin, frail red thread that looks like it would snap if you pulled it too hard. Not that it ever would, but Rui does remember fearing such a thing occurring when he was younger.
One time, alone in his garage in elementary, he tried to see if the string could stretch. It faded out of sight before it got far from him, but if he held it with his other hand the distance it was visible would grow.
So there he was, 9, maybe 10 years old, testing to see how far he could stretch his arms to see the longest the string can get. Eventually, he tried holding it with one hand, pulling the other away, and repeating the process to see if he could get the string to collect.
He ended up forgetting that the string minimizes distance though, so when he checked on his progress there was nothing there.
Disappointing, but he should have seen it coming.
At least when he told his mom about his failed experiment, she laughed and ruffled his hair, then started preparing his favorite dinner.
He forgot about it soon after, but he did envy how he could see his mother’s string, going up and down and circling around the kitchen, knowing it would lead to his father relaxing in the living room.
In conclusion, string visibility is weird.
It’s never visible for more than a meter, and then you meet your soulmate and everything gets messy. Sometimes it stays the same. Sometimes it connects the two soulmates, but only in the neatest, shortest way possible.
Sometimes it’s like holding a ball of yarn, it pools around you and can get caught on everything.
Rui remembers one fond moment, prepping for his father’s birthday. They’d forgotten to get streamers, and Rui had already donated all the balloons in his garage. His mother came up with a brilliant idea then, essentially telling Rui to stay put as she did the exact same thing he did so long before.
Unlike him though, the string pooled around her feet until it seemed almost excessive, and Rui and her scrambled to decorate the living room before his father came home. It was fun, and even though as soon as he walked through the door and touched one of the threads that hung overhead, it all vanished and the string snapped to its normal length, it was pretty while it lasted.
Rui came up with a lot of show plans revolving around utilizing strings in certain ways. Perhaps you could loop it around a switch, and when it snaps back to the shortest length, it could activate something, or maybe–
When middle school came and went, Rui tucked all the notebooks involving strings in a cabinet he barely uses. Who would want to make shows with him anyways?
Tenma Tsukasa, world future star, apparently. The memory is crystal clear, like a spotlight with the brightest white imaginable.
The opening of a rooftop door, Rui had already been expecting him. He didn’t expect to see how his string instantly linked with Tsukasa’s as soon as he got close. And when Rui was staring, mouth parted in shock, Tsukasa was not the same.
Tsukasa laughed and asked if Rui was a big fan, but he was too shell-shocked to do anything other than slowly nod. Tsukasa laughed again, and it was much more endearing in person than through the crackling speakers from the audio equipment on his drones.
Tsukasa invited him to be his director, to make shows with him, and Rui didn’t know how to respond. Over the past few years, he slowly accepted that he had to do shows alone, that all his dreams had to be done by himself.
That his soulmate wouldn’t be interested, if they were even interested in Rui in the first place, if he even got the chance to meet them. And yet, his actual soulmate stands in front of him, with a warm but cocky smile and golden hair, inviting him to do shows, not even, to be his director, and give 12,000% of his effort back in return.
Of course, Rui would say yes.
And as he shakily brought attention to their linked string, watching Tsukasa fluster over it, watching the color of their string shift from red to pink to orange to everything in between before settling on gold, he thought to himself that maybe all of his fears were unfounded.
Working with Tsukasa was everything Rui hoped it would be. His soulmate was receptive to basically anything Rui threw at him, even if it was a bit overzealous, perhaps, in his efforts to exceed Rui’s expectations.
Maybe he was worried over his soulmate too, like Rui once was. That he was desperate to impress, to convince Rui not to leave. Rui always chuckled at that, because what would?
And when Rui came home, watching the golden string extend to what he now knew was Tsukasa’s house, he wondered why he would worry. The string was thicker, looking less like a strand of hair and more like an actual thread. It would snap if force was applied, but a single tug wouldn’t make it fray apart.
As long as they keep working on it, Rui can only wonder how strong they can get it to be.
SEKAI is… fantastical, was what Rui can say. A child’s wonderland, guided by cheeky cats and steadfast leaders, with flying trains and spinning carousels, a manifestation of feelings he once thought he lost.
Streamers that floated from invisible poles in the sky, balloons held up by ropes, and the use of thread and string here fascinated him. Tsukasa really idealized soulmates, Rui could tell, and he could feel the expectations placed on him.
He felt prepared to meet them though, because while Tsukasa is boastful and extreme, Rui was strange and excitable, so perhaps they canceled out. Teasing and poking at Tsukasa granted amazing reactions and faked scoldings, they got along in a weird way Rui’s never experienced before.
He rather liked it.
Once, he came to SEKAI at night, even if he knew Tsukasa wouldn’t be very appreciative of it, and wow. SEKAI’s night sky lit up with bright stars, but if you looked closely, you could see faint lines connecting them.
It seemed Tsukasa’s fascination even applied to the stars, which hopefully meant that as a future star himself, he would keep Rui close.
Lines and stars decorated the night sky, and those streamers glowed in the otherwise dim amusement park. Are the stars and lines constellations? Rui didn’t know enough astronomy to tell, but they probably are.
A plushie sits next to him, and Rui gives it a curious glance. He expected them to avoid him after his… stunts, but the little cat just pressed into his side, so Rui let it. The cat has a string, Rui realizes, a small pink one that trails off into the distance.
To think, even the plushies would have soulmates.
Rui checks his own string, and it’s still that golden color, fading into nothingness. It’s expected, Tsukasa isn’t in SEKAI, but he wonders if his string would have a unique reaction to being in a world made by his soulmate.
It seems not, but Rui is alright with that.
He bids the soft kitten goodbye, and as always, he falls asleep on his couch in the garage, dreaming of stars and strings.
And then it all came crashing down, a harsh argument brought on by overwhelming emotions and Rui’s childhood friend running away. Rui remembers storming away, away from his soulmate and to his old friend and he remembers wondering why he ever let himself have hope.
He remembers curling up in his bed, not even in his garage, watching as the string thinned, nearly turning black with his despair and anger. Anger at himself, for not checking Nenerobo, but mostly at Tsukasa, who should have never been that harsh.
Despair at himself for letting himself trust, even if that person was his soulmate.
How could he? After… after all they worked for?
There was a guilt there, inside his heart, too. For saying he couldn’t be a star. But it was the truth. No star could break someone’s heart like that.
Rui wonders if the heart he’s thinking about is Nene’s or his. It doesn’t matter either way.
Tsukasa dragged him back with a show. Their string was frayed, bordering the black of a broken soulbond, yet Tsukasa persevered, presenting a show that captures Rui’s heart once again. As he watched the show, the string that caused him so many feelings over the past few days shifted yet again, getting lighter and lighter until it was back to that staple red.
“Won’t you please come back?” Tsukasa asked softly, with warm eyes filled with want and a hand outstretched to him. “Do shows with us again?”
Rui shifted, wide-eyed and he stared. The red of their string. The representation of a bond not formed, not just yet.
He wanted to give Tsukasa a second chance.
So he did.
Watching red turn into gold had never felt so satisfying before.
Their Halloween show was going spectacularly. Rui’s fascination with their string hadn’t faded in the slightest, and he can safely say that he’s noticed the width increasing. He still hasn’t figured out why their color is gold, but he can assume it’s because of Tsukasa and his dreams of being a star. He’s perfectly fine with that conclusion.
Tsukasa got tugged down by his inventions.
He didn’t come up the ladder.
Rui saw the string fray, split ends appeared increasingly as the seconds passed.
“Tsukasa-kunnn! He’s not waking up! What do we do?” Rui froze, staring blankly at the open trap door. The split ends multiplied.
“Tsukasa-kun? Tsukasa-kun?!”
Despite Tsukasa’s reassurances, Rui still felt so, incredibly guilty. He had promised that the zombie robot was safe, and yet… Tsukasa still got hurt. He robotically went through the process of checking for a concussion, considering how long Tsukasa had been out, and thankfully Tsukasa didn’t resist aside from grumbling a bit.
Tsukasa was fine. He winced when Rui lightly pressed on the back of his head, but it was just a bruise. He’s practically in perfect condition to keep performing.
Rui was not fine. The string that had connected them both was frayed, and while the color didn’t change, Rui knew he did something wrong. Tsukasa hasn’t seemed to notice yet.
So he did his best to fix it, to make Tsukasa the shining star he deserved to be while making sure he stayed safe. He hadn’t even realized he was holding himself back.
When Tsukasa approached him, once and for all, to tell him how he was acting, Rui let him sit next to him on the stage’s bench. He had been holding himself back for Tsukasa’s safety, but didn’t Rui know he trusted him completely, Tsukasa said.
Rui, in an act out of character for him, turned away from Tsukasa’s face, choosing to stare at his lap as Tsukasa talked.
Their string wasn’t frayed by Tsukasa’s side. So it was… just Rui? Was something wrong with him, because he hurt Tsukasa? It wasn’t on purpose! He only wanted Tsukasa to be safe and happy–and these were not thoughts to be having at a time like this.
Tsukasa, in a similarly uncharacteristic move, grabbed one of Rui’s hands out of his lap.
“What are you doing?” Rui asked. Tsukasa didn’t release his hand, tracing over his fingers.
“Apologizing. As a star, I should be encouraging you to make the most amazing shows, and because of my failure you’ve been holding back.” Rui knows that wasn’t really true. KAITO helped him realize that, but it still didn’t change the fact it was Rui’s miscalculation, his fault.
“As your director, your safety is my most important priority. And I failed you too.” Rui wondered where the sudden ease of communication came from. Perhaps it was because of KAITO, maybe Tsukasa had talked to him as well.
Tsukasa groaned, “This isn’t getting us anywhere!” He still hadn’t let go of Rui’s hand. “We should–should uh, find some sort of middle ground! You can make things safer and more exciting, can’t you?”
Rui pondered over it, lost in thought. Of course he could do that. They’ve been stuck in the two extremes, he never even considered a compromise.
“Alright,” he said, and Tsukasa broke out into a bright smile, laughing over how he’d make Rui proud. Through it all, his hand’s focus had switched from Rui’s hand to their string, gently brushing over it starting from Rui’s end until finally letting go near the middle.
The frayed ends disappeared under Tsukasa’s touch, and Rui stared in awe.
“All better then! I trust you, you know,” Tsukasa said sincerely. Rui felt invigorated, wanting to pester Tsukasa on how he knew how to do that, but they were still at practice. And extremely touched too, that was a given. He will reiterate though, they were still at practice/
So Rui dedicated himself to the show instead. He could always ask Tsukasa later.
Tsukasa, as it turns out, had two strings. One looped around his ring finger, the one that connected to Rui, and another was strung around his pinky.
“This one’s for Saki!” Tsukasa exclaimed when Rui asked. “I’ve been able to see it since basically forever. Sometimes we had petty arguments and I figured out you could smooth out the thread if you came to an agreement! It doesn’t really do anything though, just a visual effect, is what it was called?”
Rui was fascinated. How could he not be? Although, since they’re on the topic, he does have another question.
“Oh, when we first met? Miya was basically straight behind you, so I mistook our string for the one I had with Saki.” Even with a different color? “I wasn’t really looking at it!” Rui chuckled then, Tsukasa eventually joining him, and the topic of strings faded away as a new conversation came up.
Rui eventually decided to show Tsukasa the notebooks he had describing shows with soulmate strings, even if the notebooks were worn and tear-stained. Tsukasa took it all in stride, eagerly questioning Rui on certain parts and saying that Emu and Nene would love what he had planned.
“Maybe we could do one of these in a few months, it’d give us time to figure out the whole,” Tsukasa trailed off and waved his hand around, and Rui saw his point as he watched their string flick back and forth, back and forth.
“Sounds like a plan.” They both had matching smiles.
Rui was happy. Not even, the word ecstatic fit better, or maybe overjoyed, enthusiastic– "Ah, Tsukasa-kun, did you know the English word disgruntled, meaning dissatisfied, actually is the opposite of the word gruntled, meaning satisfied? It’s not in common use in comparison to its antonym though–” Tsukasa sighed extraordinarily loud and collapsed onto Rui’s couch.
Yeah, he was having an amazing time.
He still is having an amazing time, being soulmates with the one and only Tenma Tsukasa sure is something.
Rui chuckles, stretching out in his chair and moving away from his work desk. He gives a glance to a digital clock he keeps out of the way, and–Did he really spend so much time reminiscing? At this rate, Tsukasa’s going to–
“Rui! I’m back!” He’s on point with his prediction, at least. “Ah, is he home?” He hears Tsukasa wonder aloud, pointedly so in the case Rui is home, he can respond. Not that it matters, Tsukasa is loud regardless.
“Yes, I’m here Tsukasa-kun!” Rui calls back, and he hears the telltale footsteps of Tsukasa approaching. He really doesn’t need the sign anyways, because as soon as Tsukasa gets to the door their string fades into full visibility, and Rui watches as it slinks through a crack in the door to fully connect to Tsukasa.
The door opens, and Rui can see his boyfriend in all his beauty. Tsukasa sighs fondly, “Are you still working? Rui, it’s late!” Rui chuckles, getting up from his seat and approaching Tsukasa. “Rui…” Tsukasa warns.
“I can hardly consider the past few hours working, I was mostly stuck in my thoughts, you see?”
Tsukasa rolls his eyes. “Probably thinking about your directing, I bet. Or maybe a crazy invention for me to try before you bring it to the stage.” Rui spots an opening. So of course, he goes for it!
He sighs wistfully, “Well, I was certainly thinking about you…” He delights himself in Tsukasa’s sputtering, taking the last step needed to close the distance and kiss Tsukasa’s forehead.
Tsukasa pushes him off with a noise of complaint, so Rui goes straight to pouting. “You…” Tsukasa whines, with a lot less affection than when Rui said the word. He lets Rui drag him to their living room, even lets him sit down on their couch (moved straight from Rui’s garage, he’s too attached to the thing,) and press into his side.
“I bet you were thinking about how great of a star I am, right?” Tsukasa asks, continuing their conversation from just a moment ago. Rui makes a noncommittal hum. “Rui!”
Rui leans onto Tsukasa’s shoulder, and he quiets down upon realizing Rui’s mood. One of his arms curls around his waist, and Rui sighs in contentment. “What’s gotten into you?” Tsukasa asks, more softly.
“I love you a lot,” Rui says, bringing Tsukasa’s free hand to his lap. He twirls their string around his finger, and he feels Tsukasa press his face into his hair.
“Is that what this is about? You’re getting sappy over our string again?” Fond annoyance is in Tsukasa’s voice, which is fair enough. Rui gets into these soulmate-induced moods and he knows it well.
Emu would probably describe it as ‘When Rui-kun gets all happy-fuzzy-and-hnnnm and stuff!’ Accurate enough.
“And what if I am?” Rui retorts. Over time, it has certainly gotten more intricate. Its design changed to be braided sometime around their Torpe the Pianist performance, and small blue gems appeared on Rui’s side. Closer to Tsukasa’s side, the golden color slowly faded to a red that matches his hair. Those two changes Rui believes appeared during their school trip to Kyoto.
Rui remembers inquiring about it one day. Tsukasa is of full belief it simultaneously matches Tsukasa’s hair and Rui’s eyes, depending on which part you looked at.
Rui likes that theory.
Tsukasa huffs, and Rui feels him kiss the top of his hair. “You’re weird, sometimes.”
“I’d say I’m weird all the time, Tsukasa-kun.” Rui’s eyes are slowly closing shut.
“Different weird than the usual type of weird! I never know what to do when you get all… this.”
“Do you dislike it?” Tsukasa’s still in his outdoor clothes, not having time to change before Rui dragged him into an impromptu cuddle session. His hoodie isn’t uncomfortable, by any means, but Rui wishes he were wearing just a shirt so he could snuggle into his neck.
“Of course not!” Tsukasa says, appalled. “I love you, even when you get weirder than normal and start clinging onto me like an overly affectionate cat.”
Rui hums, slowly losing consciousness. “I love you too,” he mumbles. When did he get so tired?
Tsukasa pulls away from him and he blatantly whines. “Rui! At least let me change and wash up. Then I can make dinner and then you can be clingy, we can even watch a movie or something.” Rui lets him go. Reluctantly. Very reluctantly.
“Can we watch the octopus documentary?” Rui asks sleepily, though excitement shines in his eyes.
“Ugh, I don’t know enough English for that! But fine, if you want to.” Rui cheers and lets Tsukasa walk away to their bathroom to wash up. He follows their string, stretching to keep them connected as their physical distance increases.
Rui smiles to himself. He really does love Tsukasa.
He can’t ask for a better soulmate.