Chapter Text
It’s an ordinary Monday: Isagi’s instant coffee has long gone cold, his eyes burning from the unholy combination of not enough sleep and spending too long squinting at a computer monitor’s glow. Changing his text editor’s background color from white to black did nothing to salvage the eyestrain. He blames the blue light blaring through the screen for the pounding migraine gathering behind his eyes, because it’s definitely the monitor’s brightness’ fault and not the fact that he’d been up past two in the morning mount farming for the newest Ex trial with the others.
“You’re up late,” Reo had noted offhandedly, as though he were commenting on the weather. “Tomorrow’s Monday. Isn’t that an office day for you?”
“You’re gonna oversleep and wake up to dog shit all over your floor,” Chigiri scoffs.
Isagi stifles a yawn, tears pricking at the edge of his eyes. He clears them with the back of a hand. Fortunately, he’d woken up on time and spared his floor of a surprise from his four-legged roommate. Had today been a remote work day, he would have indulged in the luxury of an hour-long nap after taking the dog out, but the cruel, bone white drywall offers no such indulgences.
The digital clock in the corner of his two screens reads twenty-three minutes past twelve, which means he’s spent far too long wrestling with one particular bug. The error’s plagued his entire morning; perhaps it’s wisest to accept the inevitable intervention of time, to give this piece of code a rest until after grabbing a bite to eat.
The cell phone on Isagi’s desk buzzes enthusiastically, making his entire desk vibrate. This, too, is part of an ordinary Monday. It must be Bachira sending him yet another cat video, or asking Isagi’s opinion on his latest commission’s rough draft. Though Isagi’s always felt the latter was a futile exercise, Bachira continued to insist he did possess quite the eye for design. “Bachira,” he’d once asked his good friend, “isn’t the most important opinion on things like this the opinion of your commissioner?” To which Bachira had replied with such a disarming grin that melted any further objections, “but I like hearing your opinions, Isagi!”
Isagi rises and rolls the stiffness from his shoulders before grabbing his phone, glancing at its lock screen notifications. As expected it’s a Discord message. But that’s not Bachira’s familiar icon, and Bachira would already know the answer to the question displayed on the screen.
It’s from Rin, whom no one has heard even a whisper from for the past year.
“Are you still in NYC?”
Isagi’s phone slips through his fingers like water, its plastic case clattering on his desk. He grimaces at the noise, but a quick glance around the office floor confirms most of his coworkers had already taken their lunch leave. He grabs his phone, unlocks it, and plants himself back in his chair. Remaining vertical after the sight of those words is far too risky.
He scans the message twice as his heart thumps rabbit-quick, just to make sure it’s real , those months on end of silence now shattered by five short words.
Isagi’s fingers fly across his screen: “Rin? Is it really you?”
He’s not about to get spear phished if it’s someone who managed to hack into Rin’s account. He’d never hear the end of it from Reo.
There’s an immediate response: “Yeah. This is my account.”
“Can’t help but be a little skeptical,” Isagi mutters under his breath, not quite sure if he’s supposed to be relieved to hear from Rin again or if he’s supposed to be furious about him ghosting everyone for months on end.
His fingers fly across his screen again: “If you’re a hacker who broke into this account you’re just wasting your time.” And yet, he can’t quite smother the squall of emotion rising within his chest. So he adds: “Prove that you’re really Rin.”
The conversation dies; three minutes tick by. Isagi’s heart races as a cacophony of hypotheticals swirl about his head. Was this hacker going to move on to another victim once they determined Isagi wouldn’t be so easily fooled? What if he wasn’t even speaking to an actual person who had done the hacking? Was AI smart enough to imitate a user’s typing mannerisms so that a person with ill intent could more accurately hoodwink their targets? And if it really is Rin, had his accusations upset him? As abruptly as Rin had resurfaced, perhaps he had already faded away.
His phone buzzes with a new message from Rin, this time, with an attached photo. Isagi taps it open, nervous expression melting to give way to arched brows.
He’s never been more relieved to see a high-definition picture of Rin’s hand flipping him off.
“Damn, it really is him,” Isagi breathes, shaking his head incredulously. He taps out another message for Rin.
“Ok I believe you now. Yeah I’m still in NYC. What do you want? ”
Isagi swipes a finger along his screen, silently skimming his messages to Rin when they’d last spoken with one another. Given their snappy contents, it seemed reasonable to assume Rin was reaching out to him out of necessity.
“I’m job-hunting in NYC and trying to relocate. I need a place to stay.”
Rin never was the sort who asked for anything straightforwardly.
At least, not until now.
“Can I stay with you?”
Isagi blinks owlishly in disbelief. Itoshi Rin does not ask for help, and Isagi knows Rin well enough to identify the question as the equivalent of Rin groveling for aid. But by the time his brain has caught up with his fingers, they’ve already hit send:
“Sure. When do you plan on arriving?”
Noel begins barking at the door at exactly four o’clock. He sprints down the hall and yaps even before anyone knocks on the door. Isagi pads after the dog and peers through the peephole. A familiar face stands on the other side of the door, fist hovering just above its surface, teal eyes downcast in a shroud of uncertainty.
It’s unsettling seeing his guest so unsure of himself, but it was true that knocking seemed pointless given all of Noel’s noise.
Isagi cracks the door open, fighting to keep Noel back with a single foot. Rin’s eyes flicker from the floor to hold direct eye contact with Isagi, all traces of hesitation completely vanishing. But Isagi catches the way Rin’s fingers curl a little tighter around the handle of his suitcase.
“You didn’t have anything better to do other than twiddle your thumbs until I arrived?” Rin asks, clicking his tongue in disapprovement.
“You think I was waiting with bated breath? You wish,” Isagi scoffs and nods towards the floor where Noel’s furiously-sniffing snout sticks out from the door. “More like this guy won’t stop barking until I open the door if he hears someone outside.” The corgi wiggles himself free, sliding out into the hall panting and circling Rin. “Ah, sorry – Noel, come here – “ Isagi starts, opening the door a bit wider to grab Noel. But Rin crouches down, setting the rolled-up yoga mat slung over a shoulder on the hall’s carpeted floor, offering his hand to the dog.
Noel inspects Rin’s palm with his nose, and upon determining he’d passed the smell test, shoves his moist snout into Rin’s hand to give it a lick.
“Well,” Rin begins, breaking the silence between them, “are you letting me in or not?”
“Oh. Yeah, I – yeah, sorry.” Isagi opens the door all the way, stepping aside to make room for Rin. “Got distracted. I didn’t know you liked dogs.”
Rin steps in, lifting his suitcase over the threshold. He sets it aside and slips his shoes off, trading them for a pair of house slippers. Noel circles their guest and sniffs at him curiously. “They’re fine,” Rin responds nonchalantly and crouches to offer Noel some scritches at the base of his tail. Completely nonchalantly, of course, though it’s not lost on Isagi how Rin seems to know precisely where a dog likes to be scritched the best. “I don’t like or dislike them.” Cutting right to the chase, he adds, “where do you want me to leave my things?”
Isagi blinks, mind blanking at the unexpected question. It’s an ordinary inquiry, but it’s also one that Isagi doesn’t particularly frequently, and not something he’d considered before. Rin’s expectant gaze is unusual compared to his typical houseguest’s penchant for leaving everything lying about. “Uh – I guess just, you know, by the couch? Is that good? That way it’s close to where you’ll be sleeping,” he finally replies. “Noel’s pretty well-behaved so he won’t go poking around in your stuff either.”
Finding that response acceptable, Rin sets his suitcase aside and slides the strap holding his rolled-up yoga mat onto the floor next to it. “Noel?” he asks, glancing down at the dog curiously sniffing at his feet. The corgi barks and pants cheerfully at the sound of his name, plopping himself down by the newcomer.
“Noel Noa, technically.”
“Hm. Like the soccer player then.”
A sparkle strikes in Isagi’s eyes. “You like soccer?” he asks, far too excited to conceal any enthusiasm.
Rin’s expression, on the other hand, paints a portrait of apathy. “I follow it,” he replies casually.
Who is Rin’s favorite player? His favorite team? Which position on the pitch does he find the most interesting to watch? Did he play in high school? In college? Does he play at all, or does he just enjoy watching? Fifty more questions churn through Isagi’s head, only interrupted by the urgent buzz coming from his pocket. He fishes his phone out from it, grimacing at the sight of seven messages in a row from a work chatroom.
“I’m still on the clock for the next two hours,” says Isagi, “so I’ll be in my room. Feel free to unpack whatever you need; the living room’s yours.”
Isagi shuts his work laptop’s lid at exactly six o’clock. His assignment isn’t compiling properly, but that’s a problem for Monday Isagi Yoichi. Friday Isagi has had quite enough.
Typically, Noel would wander into Isagi’s room at the sound of the closed laptop. It’s the equivalent of ringing a dinner bell for the dog.
But tonight, Noel is nowhere to be found.
Isagi leaves his bedroom. Peering around the corner into the living room, he is greeted with the answer to that mystery. Rin’s teal yoga mat is rolled out on the floor as he kneels on it, stretching out his back. At his side, Noel sprawls contentedly on the floor, having already acquainted himself with their guest’s presence.
“Well? Are you just going to keep standing there like a stranger in your own home?”
Rin pushes himself backwards to sit on his heels, glancing over his shoulder. Despite Rin’s current circumstances, Isagi can’t help but think how quickly his guest has made himself comfortable in his apartment. Isagi settles on his couch, taking a moment to glance around the living room. Rin has hardly unpacked. It’s unusual, given that Isagi is so used to Bachira’s habit of strewing all his possessions everywhere. It is impossible not to know that Bachira was visiting, as he leaves his presence scattered about.
On the other hand, the only traces of Rin’s existence are two garment bags draped over the couch’s armrest and the suitcase standing against the wall.
Isagi frowns. “Are you not going to unpack?” he asks, nodding in the direction of the suitcase.
Rin has gone back to stretching. Isagi can’t help but think it may be Rin’s method of avoiding his questions. Eventually, he does answer with a curt, “I will.”
And because Isagi is well aware of how bizarrely stubborn Rin can get, he ends his line of questioning right then and there.
“No rush I guess,” Isagi comments as he gets back on his feet. Noel looks over his shoulder at Isagi, but instead of trotting over to the kitchen to receive his dinner as usual, remains splayed out at Rin’s side. Traitor. He shuffles to the kitchen alone, rummaging about for Noel’s bowl. Isagi unscrews the kibble container open, measures the appropriate amount of food, and drops it into the bowl. He leaves Noel’s bowl out on its placemat then pokes his head out of the kitchen’s entrance.
Rin, for whatever godforsaken reason, is still stretching on his yoga mat. “I’m hungry,” Isagi announces, and Rin only acknowledges the statement with a glance in Isagi’s direction. “Did you eat yet? I bought some snacks for you in advance. Wasn’t sure what you liked, so I ended up getting a bunch of different stuff.”
The question seems to have caught Rin’s attention, because he finally stops stretching and kneels, sitting on his heels. He shakes his head. “I’m fine. I don’t need anything,” he insists. “Not hungry. And for the record, I don’t snack.”
That has Isagi arching a brow. Not hungry? Refuses to engage in snacking? Really? “You sure you’re not going to be starving later tonight?” If lunch had been Rin’s last meal, it would mean he hadn’t had anything to eat in awhile. And if there’s one thing that Isagi recalls about Rin, it’s that he’s meticulous about time.
“I said I don’t need anything,” Rin repeats, pointedly avoiding eye contact with Isagi.
So it has come to this, Isagi thinks to himself, as he reaches for his phone in his pocket. “Well, I’m hungry, so I’m ordering Chinese. What do you want?”
Only then does Rin finally make a sidelong glance at Isagi. “I don’t –”
“Yeah yeah, you don’t want anything. Too bad. I’m ordering either way so just tell me what you like. You’re keeping me from my potential dinner.”
Rin scowls for a moment, realizing he’s been cornered. Finally, he relents. “...nothing fancy, just beef with broccoli is fine.”
It's not the impending taste of the shrimp lo mein that puts a grin on his face, but the taste of seized victory. But because Isagi knows Rin, he says nothing and scrolls through his phone for his favorite takeout place. takeout place listed in his contacts’ favorites section.
Isagi learns that Rin is early to bed and, presumably, early to rise. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen a grown man who insists on going to bed by ten in the evening. But when Rin is in the bathroom brushing his teeth at half-past nine, Isagi remembers that, in the time he has known Itoshi Rin, the man has never made a joke in his life.
He leaves Rin to his own devices, which means by one in the morning, Rin has long fallen asleep. On the other hand, the night is still young for Isagi, and it’s the approximate hour when he begins to run low on his cup of water.
Empty cup in hand, Isagi ventures out of his room, peering down the hall. The lights are off, save for Rin’s faint night light he’d brought. Isagi keeps his footsteps as soft as possible and pads towards the kitchen. On the way there, Isagi can’t help but cast a quick glance at the pull-out couch in the living room.
The sight there is not wholly unexpected. He knows Rin is fast asleep there, and as he approaches the living room, he sees that Rin is, indeed, out cold. In a way, it’s striking seeing him with his guard completely down. Even with the sheer amount of yoga and stretching he does, Isagi sees the way Rin carries an acute amount of tension in the slope of his shoulders. Now fast asleep, the night light is just enough for Isagi to see them peering out from the edge of the borrowed blanket. They rise and fall easily with the rhythm of his slow breathing.
Isagi’s response feels automatic, the way he quietly treads over and gingerly sets his water cup on the coffee table. He hovers only for a moment, because it’s so terribly odd finally seeing how exhausted Rin looks when he’s not glowering at everyone in his vicinity. He sighs, careful to stay quiet and avoid accidentally waking his guest, then slowly reaches for the top of Rin’s blanket. He tugs at it with cautious fingers, straightening the folded fabric until it covers Rin’s shoulders.
He freezes as Rin stirs; the intense fear that he’s accidentally woken him up strikes Isagi like a bolt of lightning. But then Rin curls a bit further into himself and sighs, eyes shut, tucking his chin a bit underneath the blanket.
Isagi spends only a moment longer observing Rin, checking he wasn’t going to suddenly wake up and strangle him for the horrific crime of witnessing him fast asleep. Satisfied that Rin would not be rising from the dead, Isagi retrieves his cup and heads to his initial intended destination. He refills the cup with water and returns to his room, only casting a quick glance this time in Rin’s direction to double-check that he’s still dozing.
He closes his bedroom door quietly, sets his cup of water aside on his night stand, and flops down on his bed. Noel, who’d been lounging on the sheets, wiggles over to shove his wet nose into Isagi’s side. Isagi reaches over to scratch the dog a bit between his pointed ears. “Guess he really didn’t have anyone if he had to ask me of all people for help,” he sighs.
Noel merely gazes back at Isagi and licks at his own nose.
In truth, Isagi doesn’t know much about Rin. They had met in the past, yes, when the stars aligned and everyone managed to make it to Fanfest at the same time (and it was Chigiri and Reo who insisted they all grab a bite to eat together). They raided together and had plenty of individual conversations with each other, but he doesn’t know Rin.
He knows Rin was a law student, which was why he couldn’t always make raid nights leading up to exams week. He knows Rin well enough to the point that they both, occasionally, butted heads with one another, but he doesn’t know what Rin is doing out in New York City. He knows Rin can be short-tempered, brash, arrogant, and headstrong, which rubs others the wrong way. Now, he knows Rin can look hesitant and unsure of himself when he doesn’t think anyone is looking. And even though he’d said he’s impartial to dogs, he’d known exactly where Noel would like to be scratched.
He knows just enough about Rin to know not to mention his brother.
Outside of that, he doesn’t know Rin at all. And yet, Rin had turned to him for help, only for Isagi to offer his hand without any questions.
Isagi gives Noel one final scritch between his ears before rolling onto his back to gaze up at the ceiling.
“Guess he really didn’t have anyone.”
Not even a week goes by before Isagi decides it is no longer possible to keep his new guest a secret from Bachira Meguru. Given Bachira’s penchant for dropping by unannounced at his own whims, it’s inevitable.
Bachira has three homes: his mother’s house, his own apartment, and Isagi’s couch. After Bachira had turned up unannounced and stayed until four in the morning one too many times, Isagi had replaced his couch with one that doubled as a spare bed.
What Rin does not know is that, prior to his arrival, Isagi’s living room and coffee table had been covered in someone else’s belongings: some clothes a little too big to be Isagi’s, a stained paint palette, a sketchbook or two. Now, the living room only sports a spare cup of water used by Rin throughout the day, and an immaculately-folded shirt draped over the couch’s armrest.
Sometimes, Bachira decides to stay at his third home for a couple of nights. And as Isagi corners Rin in the kitchen one evening, he realizes that in contrast, even after two nights, Rin is still wound tight like a spring.
“Your face looks scarier than usual,” Isagi notes, and Rin frowns even harder at this information. Instead of pointing this out, Isagi merely gestures for Rin to take a seat at the kitchen table with him. “Seriously, it would be helpful if you told me what was wrong instead of walking around looking mad at everything in sight.”
Rin huffs. “I’m not angry,” he retorts, but pulls out the chair across from Isagi to take a seat. He folds his hands and rests them on the table, all the while glaring daggers. Finally, he asks, “Your rent. How much is it.”
Isagi blinks, bewildered. “My what? Why?”
Rin huffs again and has the gall to tsk at him. “I’m not staying here for free.”
Isagi blinks again, even more confused after Rin’s explanation. Now it’s his turn to frown, a deep crease forming between his brows. “That’s what’s gotten you so worked up all day?” He can’t decide whether he should sigh or laugh at this new information, though he knows Rin well enough to realize either option would only make the situation worse. Instead, Isagi raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck and shakes his head. “It’s fine. I already told you it’s cool however long you need to take.”
Rin digs in his heels. “I’m not taking no for an answer.” And then, softer, he adds, “I don’t want your charity.”
Isagi snorts and stifles a laugh, which only seems to deepen the frown on Rin’s face. “Charity? Seriously?” And when he can no longer hold it in, it finally bursts from his lips, filling the entire kitchen.
Rin can only blink, eyes wide with bewilderment. He recovers quickly, schooling his features back into a frown, eyes narrowing as he glares at Isagi with all his might. “What? What the hell’s so funny to you?” he demands, which only makes Isagi laugh even harder.
Isagi wheezes and wipes a tear from one of his eyes. “God, you’re so weird,” he sighs and shakes his head. “It’s not charity , you asshole. You’re my friend. I’m not charging you rent when you don’t have a stupid job.” And as Isagi watches Rin glare even harder, he thinks that, perhaps, he should have known this would only make someone as stubborn as Rin even more agitated. He sighs. “Honestly? Even if you did chip in, there’s no way you’d be able to pay your even share. Trust me. If I told you the actual figure, it’d give you a heart attack.”
Only when faced with facts does Rin’s glower finally relent, the hard look in his eyes wavering for a split second. Though as soon as it shifts, determination quickly returns to his gaze as Isagi recalls that Rin is equal parts stubborn as he is a fool.
Isagi throws his hands up in defeat. “Okay, fine! Fine, you can chip in on utilities. Can we compromise on that? Can we call that a deal?”
Rin gazes at Isagi in silent consideration. Isagi begins to wonder if Rin will insist on walking away from the negotiation table within his kitchen, that Rin is, perhaps, intensely fixated on splitting rent. But perhaps he was wrong. Maybe Rin is no fool after all because he eventually responds to Isagi’s proposal with a nod. “Let me know how much things end up so I can send the money,” he says, standing from his seat. He shoots one last scowl at Isagi. “Or else.” And once that’s been clarified, with an element of finality, tucks his chair in and immediately leaves the kitchen.
Perhaps, Isagi thinks, Rin fears Isagi might change his mind, and so he has tactically retreated before Isagi can go back on his word. If he removes himself from the situation, it is impossible for Isagi to retract their agreement.
The actual tenant of the apartment sighs and shakes his head.
It’s an unstated rule that all guests who call Isagi’s couch their temporary home must be… eccentric, in one shape or another.
Something cold and moist nudges itself against Isagi’s shin, reminding him he has other matters to attend to. He reaches down, offering Noel a quick scratch between his ears. “Sorry bud, thought I forgot about you?” he asks, and the dog yips in response before clambering out from underneath the table and romping off towards the living room. Isagi trails after the dog, and as he passes Rin seated in the living room, he nods in the apartment door’s direction. “Taking Noel out. I’ll be back in a bit,” he informs Rin, who glances up from his laptop.
“Mm,” is the only response he receives from the other before returning his attention to his monitor.
Isagi grabs Noel’s harness, slips it over the dog’s head, secures it in place, before attaching his leash to its ring. And then, the two of them head out, slipping through the door and onto the concrete sidewalks.
As Noel’s nails click softly against the floor, Isagi finds himself reaching into his pocket with his free hand, fishing his phone out of it. And as if possessed, he’s scrolling through his contacts list until he lands on Bachira’s name. He taps the green icon next to it and lifts the phone to his ear. It beeps for a bit, long enough to the point that Isagi wonders if Bachira will actually respond.
But instead of transitioning to Bachira’s voicemail, a deafening voice answers on the other end. “Isagi!” it shrieks, and Isagi has to pull his phone away from his ear to keep his poor eardrum safe. “Isagi! Hi!”
Isagi laughs a bit as he places the phone back against his ear. “Yeah, hi Bachira. It’s me.” And before Bachira can take over the entire conversation prior to him managing to get anything out, Isagi steamrolls ahead. “Um, yeah, I was just calling to let you know that it might be awhile before you can come over and crash again.”
“Oh? Okay!” Bachira chimes, though in truth, Isagi hadn’t been too concerned about how that conversation would go over. After all, Bachira is as easy going as they come. “Are you busy, Isagi? Are you going somewhere?”
“Huh? Oh, no. No, I’m not going anywhere. It’s just that – ”
Where to even begin? Bachira is as easygoing as they come, but an explanation still requires a starting point. Isagi realizes it is useless to attempt to construct an adequate story. “Rin’s visiting –”
There’s a loud gasp from Bachira’s end of the line. “Rin’s here!?” he yells. “When! When did he get here! How long is he staying!”
As though feeding off Bachira’s energy, Noel suddenly surges forward on his leash, making Isagi stumble forth and nearly drop his phone. Isagi quickly catches his balance, lifting his phone back to his ear. “It’s – well, it’s been a few days? I think? Anyways, I wanted to give you heads up since I think you popping in anytime soon would send Rin into cardiac arrest.”
“Aww, why not? I wanna see Rin too, Isagi! Don’t hog him all to yourself!” Bachira whines.
“No! No, it’s not that, it’s just –”
He’d seen that look of uncertainty on Rin’s face while the other had stood outside the door, assuming no one was there to see it. The lowered gaze, his lower lip worried between his teeth, fingers curled around his suitcase’s handle in a vice grip: none of that had been meant for Isagi at all.
“...I think he just needs some time. He was looking for someplace in the New York City area, and I guess he remembered I’m out here. So can you keep this under wraps for now?”
Bachira makes a thoughtful noise. “Mm,” he finally responds, “okay, Isagi. But only because you’re the one asking!” And now that it’s been confirmed that there would be no surprise visits, Isagi sighs a bit with relief. But Bachira isn’t finished yet, and he adds, “You know, Isagi, I’ve told Rin that I live in this area too. And isn’t his brother out here too?”
There is no way in hell that Rin would ask Sae for help. Isagi is sure of this. He doesn’t need to search too deep in his heart–perhaps just a millimeter–to know how intensely Rin loathes his brother. “Bachira, you know what Rin’s relationship with Sae is like. Rin would rather step on hot coals than ask his brother for help.”
Suddenly, the line goes quiet. Isagi pulls his phone away from his ear, tapping on it to wake its screen and double check that the call is still going. The timer is still running, but the other end is silent. Isagi returns it to his ear. “Bachira? You there?”
Some fumbling comes through the mic, as though Bachira was desperately trying to rescue his phone out of midair. “Ah, yeah! Yeah, sorry, I was just thinking. I had no idea Rin’s relationship with Sae was that bad.”
Isagi stops in his tracks, and Noel uses it as an opportunity to sniff at a particularly interesting tree. “Yeah, it’s, uh. It’s not good,” he replies. It’s the understatement of the year, but if Rin hasn’t shared with Bachira, then it’s not his place to share. “Well, in any event, I just wanted to call to let you know.”
Bachira hums on the other end. “Mm, okay! Take good care of Rin, okay?” he chimes.
Noel has finished sniffing and tugs a bit on his leash. Isagi picks up the pace, frowning at Bachira’s sing-song tone. “What? What’s that supposed to mean.”
“Oh, you know,” Bachira replies.
“No, I don’t. I wouldn’t be asking if I did.”
Bachira hums again. “Well… It’s just a hunch that I had. Rin reached out to you, but I haven’t heard anything from him. I’ll bet the others haven’t either. So that means he doesn’t want the rest of us to know, except for you. That’s gotta count for something, right?”
And as Isagi turns the corner to return to the apartment, it finally occurs to him that Rin, truly, had specifically sought him out for help. “I… I guess so.” He rummages about his pocket, searching for the card key for his building’s front entrance. “Hey, wait. What do you mean by ‘something’?”
“Hmm, like I said. Oh, you know,” Bachira giggles, before the line goes silent a second time to leave Isagi alone with his muddled thoughts.