Archive of Our Own ^beta

Whenever summer comes, Aventurine feels something ache in his chest–a constant throb, small yet annoying in its persistence.

It may be because of the heat. He has always had issues with the heat for as long as he can remember. He doesn’t mind getting a little warm, or the sweat that clings the fabric of his clothes to his skin. But the heat often brings with it nightmares and echoes of loud cries. And the smell of burnt flesh that kept him awake when he was a child. Now, it isn’t as bad, but while he can divert his mind from thinking about all the bad things, his body remembers—how it trembled on a hot, clammy night, how his little hands covered his ears whenever the sounds of summer rain resembled footsteps that hunted something—him, his family—down in his dreams.

Aventurine knows, however, that such things are not to be shared with anyone, lest they think he is deranged. Who will believe about spaceships and people who can live for thousands of years? Who will believe about the paths, the aeons, and their powers? The counselling sessions his parents made him attend in elementary school taught him it was best to play along and pretend everything was indeed his imagination. Pretend that he was getting better. And yet, Aventurine thinks as he leans his forehead on the window and lets the coolness seep in, sometimes it just feels like too much.

The empty classroom has started to feel a little too suffocating, so he sighs and zips his backpack. It's time to go to the laboratory and help his professor. As a graduate student, it has been six months since he was asked to help as a teaching assistant for the undergraduate students in exchange for special permission to use the laboratory whenever he pleases—which he gladly accepted, considering he has his own thesis to work on. At any rate, a distraction is what he needs these days.

When he arrives at the laboratory, he can hear the professor talking excitedly with someone. It can’t be the students, as their schedule is still an hour away. Still, it isn’t strange for his professor to be excited. The oldman has limitless energy that exhausts all of his students.

Aventurine knocks the door and opens it without waiting for an answer. “Hey, prof, I’m—” He stops, his mouth snaps shut.

“Ah, Aventurine! Come, come. Oh wow, look at the time,” Professor Cesare says, glancing at his watch. “It’s been a while since I had an interesting conversation. By the way, this here is my prized student, come here, Aventurine!”

The person standing before the professor glances at Aventurine, and Aventurine takes in everything about him. Those observant eyes, his violet hair, the way he crosses his arms, everything is just as Aventurine remembers. It’s….

“Veritas,” Aventurine says.

Veritas Ratio doesn’t respond.

Aventurine's heart drops, his stomach twists. Of course Ratio doesn't remember him. Aventurine would be lying if he said he didn’t hope Ratio would remember, but….

The fact that Ratio is here is already amazing enough that Aventurine smiles and berates himself for feeling hurt.

“Oh, do you know each other?” Professor Cesare seems surprised.

“I mean, who doesn’t know the Ratio Veritas, right, Professor?” Aventurine is quick to amend. “The genius doctor? The person behind the largest organization offering scholarships?”

Someone who, once upon a time, lived in the same universe as me.

“Ah, yes! Well, Ratio was my student.” Professor Cesare grins proudly. “Ratio, this is Aventurine. I believe you'll like him. He's my–”

“Prized student, yes,” Ratio says, with a voice that washes Aventurine with the bittersweet feelings of nostalgia.

“Right, so I trust you both can manage?”

“Of course, um,” Aventurine pauses, “what?"

“I told you last week that I need to go to a conference. Ratio will take care of all my classes in the meantime,” Professor Cesare says. “You didn’t pay attention, did you?”

“No! I mean, I did know about that. I just didn’t think you’d ask—”

Professor Cesare grins. “This will be the perfect opportunity for everyone to learn from him.” He then pats Ratio’s shoulder. “I need to go.”

“I’ll make sure they’ll learn.” Ratio nods.

“Perfect!”

Professor Cesare gathers his belongings and leaves in a flurry of waves and smiles. Aventurine isn’t even given the opportunity to say anything. And in the silence that follows, Aventurine takes a deep breath and braces himself to look at the only other occupant in the room.

Ratio is already staring at him, his expression neutral. He is still a good deal taller than Aventurine, and the line of his nose, his jaw, everything is still exactly the same. Except, like himself, Ratio is now wearing an attire that suits the world he’s living in, a casual black shirt on over faded blue jeans. His hair is no longer adorned with a laurel. Aventurine wonders, if Ratio still covers his face with a bust in his classes.

“I’m Aventurine. Nice to meet you, Dr. Ratio.” Aventurine smiles.

In the fifth grade, after going through numerous consultations and therapies without avail, Aventurine found him.

At that time, Ratio was only a freshman in high school. Yet, his achievements had astounded even the professors at big universities. It was by coincidence that Aventurine saw him featured in a local newspaper. However, no matter how brief the article was, it still changed Aventurine’s world.

People might say it was impossible to jump from one planet to another shortly, or that the intergalactic war only existed in movies. And yet here he was, the proof that everything was not only Aventurine’s imagination. Someone who used to breathe the same air as him, on a faraway planet and galaxy, was there in the article. Veritas Ratio.

They might not have been close in the past lives (if it was indeed a past life), and they hadn’t met now. But the fact that Ratio was the only person that could save Aventurine from thinking he was insane was still real. And so Aventurine looked up to him.

He followed his news, just a few articles here and there, to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. And finally when he was old enough to attend university, he studied where he knew Ratio once studied. He, of course, knew that Professor Cesare was one of the prominent teachers who believed in Ratio’s genius. He did all that without ever expecting to meet Ratio. It was enough that he thought he lived in the same space as the only person he knew in this life.

It still surprises him that he can finally meet Ratio. And though he knows Ratio won’t ever remember him, Aventurine’s heart still swells with the warmth of memories. His fingers itch to touch, to make sure he’s real. But Aventurine is nothing if not a gambler, so he gambles with a smile and hopes.

He gambles for Ratio.

The undergraduate students weep. It is a sight Aventurine didn’t know he had missed, as he watches another piece of chalk fly right onto a student’s forehead. Some of them look at Aventurine tearfully, hoping for help. Another group seems to have given up on trying to understand the material completely. And only a handful are still admirably trying to follow the lesson, albeit struggling.

If it was in the past, Aventurine would have made a few remarks here and there, teasing Ratio who was clearly frustrated by the students’ lack of knowledge. But today, he can only hold back his laughter and pretends he doesn’t see the plea for help from the students. He reaches for his notebook and twirls his pen. The vial on his deck holds a sample of his own latest project, and he smiles as he lets Ratio’s voice drone on in the background. Contrary to what the students may feel, Ratio’s voice has always been soothing to Aventurine, despite its primary use in the past being to scold Aventurine’s reckless behavior.

Aventurine hums as he ignores another student's pleading eyes. He has done his job preparing all the materials needed for today’s class, so it is not his responsibility to comfort them. Besides, he has his own thesis to worry about.

It isn’t until Ratio dismisses the class and the quiet murmurs of the students fill the room that Aventurine realizes he kind of forgot about the summer heat.

“Do you know when the geezer will come back?” Aventurine asks as he tries to appear as calm as possible.

The students have all gone home and the deserted room has started to become too much for Aventurine to handle. The mere presence of Ratio is enough to make his heart feel like it will burst any second. He puts his books into his backpack and pretends he doesn’t feel Ratio's gaze on him.

“He asked me to fill in for him for at least a week, or maybe longer,” Ratio says.

Aventurine hums. “Well, he deserves a vacation. Did you know he works even on weekends?” He frowns when he remembers who he is talking to. “But will that be alright with you? Aren't you super busy?”

“It's the least I can do,” Ratio says, but he doesn't elaborate. Aventurine feels like he understands, though. In one of the old articles he read, Ratio admitted that he wouldn't have achieved this much without Professor Cesare's support.

The silence stretches out again. This time, Aventurine doesn't bother to fill it. He sits at his desk, watching Ratio clean up his own.

Then, their eyes meet.

There's something that makes Aventurine's chest constrict. Excitement, perhaps, at meeting the one person he knew shares the same past as him. Sorrow, for knowing he is the only one who remembers. And other inexplicable feelings that Aventurine doesn't bother to name.

“Tell me about your project,” Ratio says, and that is enough to break down all the invisible walls Aventurine tried to maintain.

So Aventurine talks. He talks about his plans, about the failed trials, about the success rate he tries hard to prove isn't just a number on paper. That despite his tendency and luck, he isn't trying to gamble when dealing with a scientific project.

He talks until he sees a small smile on Ratio's lips.

“Ah, shoot!” Aventurine hugs his backpack to protect its contents from a sudden downpour. A flash of lightning blinds him for a second, and he runs to the nearest roof. “Damn,” he says, checking his backpack as he goes under. One side is wet, but thankfully his papers and laptop are fine. His clothes are completely drenched, though, and he shivers as the strong wind drives the rain to flood the floor.

He sighs. He hates summer. He really does. But when there's rain like this, he hates it even more. He knows it's only a matter of time until his mind spirals out of control again. But right now, he has his laptop and papers to protect from the rain, so he should focus on that. He ignores the headache that starts to pound his head. Focus. Focus.

He squints through the heavy rain to see if the nearby convenience store is still open so he can buy a raincoat or even a plastic bag, when someone opens the door behind him.

“Want to come in?”

The deep voice startles Aventurine. Ratio is leaning against the doorframe, still wearing the same clothes from earlier.

“Um, I thought you went home….”

“I did.”

Aventurine looks around and confirms that yes, it's one of the campus buildings, or the office to be exact, even though it is deserted now that it's past nine in the evening.

“I live here just until Professor Cesare comes back,” Ratio says. “It's a pain to commute from my apartment. The professor arranged a studio for me.”

“Ah,” Aventurine says. “If that's the case, then….”

Ratio shifts to make way so Aventurine can go inside.

Putting his backpack on the floor, Aventurine takes off his shoes and winces as his clothes create a pool of water on the tiles. “Sorry, if you have a rag, I'll clean this.”

Ratio disappears into one of the office rooms and returns with a small towel.

“You want me to clean the floor with this?”

“It's for you, idiot,” Ratio says, though his tone is without malice. He wipes Aventurine's hair with it. “Do you always stay this late at the laboratory?”

“Oh,” Aventurine takes the towel and tries not to look flustered. Did Ratio just help him dry his hair? “Not always. Just these days I need to, I need–” His mind goes blank as he searches for an excuse. He needs to distract his mind during the summer, but it will lead to a lot of questions he'd rather not answer, so he settles with, “I feel like the answer to my project is almost there. I can't stop now.”

Ratio hums. “Only morons will work their asses off without resting. You won't get your answer that way,” he says. “But, I commend your passion.”

Aventurine laughs. “Truly, I should be proud of myself for having been praised by you.”

Ratio's eyes soften. He steps back and gestures for Aventurine to follow him. “Don't worry about the mess. We'll get to it after you've changed your clothes.”

So Aventurine follows, making his way through a number of desks and slipping into a room that must be the studio Professor Cesare prepared for Ratio. Just like its name, it looks mostly like an office with a desk and a computer, complete with a tall bookshelf that takes up most of the space, but with the addition of a bed and a small wardrobe.

It might be a temporary living space, but its practicality kind of suits Ratio, in a way.

“Here you can change with this.” Ratio offers a simple white t-shirt. “But I'm afraid my pants are too big for you.”

Aventurine raises an eyebrow. “This feels like a scene from a drama, you know? The boyfriend's clothes situation. You know, the girl wears the boy's too big t-shirt with no pants on.”

“Or, you can keep wearing those,” Ratio says, glaring pointedly at Aventurine's drenched clothes.

Aventurine laughs. He snatches the t-shirt from Ratio's hand. “I was joking, but honestly, it's still funny.” He tilts his head and smiles. “Thank you, really.”

Ratio nods. He turns around and sits at his desk, and Aventurine is amused to think that Ratio is giving him privacy to change.

So he changes, folding his wet clothes and setting them beside his backpack. He notices Ratio's t-shirt reaches his thighs, but if he stretches, it will still ride up, so he decides to keep his boxers on.

“You know, doctor,” Aventurine says as he glances outside the window. The rain is still pouring, but at least it doesn't seem like the wind is as strong as before. “I hate the summer. But today doesn't seem as bad. I never thought I'd ever meet you.”

“Why?” Ratio asks, still not looking at him. “Have you ever wanted to meet me?”

“Well, aren't you a famous one?” Aventurine chuckles. “I'm always lucky, though, so perhaps that's why you're here right now.”

Ratio swivels on his chair, staring at Aventurine. “Are you saying you gambled on meeting me?”

Aventurine shrugs.

“I'm afraid today’s not simply a matter of luck. Or, it might have played its part, but I don't believe my efforts are part of your luck, gambler.”

Aventurine's eyes widen. “Doctor?”

Ratio doesn't respond for a moment. Aventurine's heart hammers so loudly it might drown out the pattering of the rain.

“Professor Cesare kept talking about one of his students. Whom he thought was brilliant and worth my attention,” Ratio says. “And when I found out he was talking about you, the rest was history.”

Aventurine takes a sharp breath.

Ratio rises and walks over so Aventurine has to look up.

“I've always thought you were brilliant. With or without education.” He cups Aventurine’s cheek with his fingers. “I have been proven right.”

Aventurine's sight blurs. He clutches at Ratio's clothes. “So you… remember….”

“Everything.”

“You're not lying…?”

“You know I hate liars. It is against what I've always believed. Knowledge is–”

Aventurine laughs, but it sounds more like a hiccup. “So you knew that I….”

Ratio's fingers on Aventurine’s cheek are wet as they move to stroke soothingly.

“I know,” Ratio murmurs, “You're never alone.”

And Aventurine hugs him, tight and bruising, his tears falling and his breath shaky.

But Ratio remembers. He remembers him. They're together in this.

They're….

“Thank you,” Aventurine whispers. He has no idea to whom, whether it is to God, the aeons, his luck, or—

The way Ratio hugs him back is answer enough. It is enough, Aventurine thinks.

He closes his eyes.