Chapter Text
Kamishiro Rui doesn’t feel anything.
It’s weird. It’s always been weird, starting from the moment he realized he was missing something others have that he just… doesn’t.
Unlike his parents, he didn’t feel the need to cry when their family pet died. Unlike his classmates, he didn’t laugh at something their teacher said. He didn’t think it was funny. He still doesn’t.
“A body void of emotion”, was what the unusual doctor called him when his parents asked. At first, they tried to pretend it was okay. They thought he would get better. Time would make him better.
And when it doesn’t - when, at six years of age, Rui still doesn’t show any signs of improvement, his mother shatters.
“What do we do now?” she cries as her husband holds her closely to his chest, protective of the woman who seems to have lost control over her emotions completely.
Rui tilts his head at that. It is something he does’t quite understand, how people could lose control so easily. Emotions certainly are a weird thing.
“Rui,” his father calls, locking eyes with him. In contrast with the woman clinging to him like a lifeline, he’s always been more calculating. Something akin to cold, or rather, assertive. “If you’re not going to improve by yourself, we’re gonna have to teach you how to get better.”
Rui doesn’t understand what that means. Despite his intelligence, much advanced for his age, there are a lot of things he doesn’t understand.
That’s okay with him. Everything is okay with him, because he doesn’t feel anything, and he certainly doesn’t feel guilty for such.
And if his parents want to give orders, who is he to question it?
ꨄ
Rui is changing schools, now that he’s finally starting middle school. He thinks it’s great, because certainly the contents of his upcoming classes will be much more challenging than the previous ones.
His parents, however, are relieved. Their boy will be changing schools, after all, so he will finally get to meet new people and put into practice everything he’s learned from them.
Rui doesn’t share the feeling. He never does.
It doesn’t stop him from wearing his best smile on the first day of school.
He is asked to introduce himself to the class before they start. It’s easy enough, with his large years of practice. Not that it could be any harder, wearing a friendly smile and feigning shyness.
“Be approachable, and make sure to smile a lot,” his mother say s , gaze unwavering as she lectures him. “Everyone likes someone who smiles a lot. It’s like an invitation.”
“An invitation for what?” he asks, tilting his head in that familiar way his father does too. If he’s been taught right, he can tell that the little sparkle in his mother’s eyes are fondness.
“For people to talk to you, of course!” the woman exclaims, making grand gestures as if it’s going to make him understand it any quicker.
“Why would I want people to talk to m…”
“Because,” she cuts him off, a newfound hard look on her face. “Because it’s what normal people would want from their peers.”
Rui didn’t question it any further.
His new classmates fuss over him for a moment. From the look on their faces, he can tell they like him already. Or, at least, don’t dislike him yet, which is great, according to his parents. Normal people want others to like them, after all.
“You can sit on the empty desk right behind Yamaga. Yamaga, dear, raise your hand.”
Yamaga turns out to be a girl with mid-length black hair and dark eyes. Her school uniform has done pins attached to it, which Rui doesn’t think the school allows, but doesn’t say anything.
“Hey! You’re Kamishiro, right? I’m Yamaga Yoshino, but, since I can already tell we’re going to be great friends, feel free to call me Yoshino!” she smiles brightly, something that might as well make Rui go blind.
“Call me Rui, then,” and he smiles at her too, because when someone is nice to him, it is only natural that he returns the gesture.
“Want to sit with me and my friends at lunch? They’re a little loud but I promise they’re nice!”
And that’s how Rui ends up in a sit by a table with three other kids his age who seem to not think he’s a freak. New friends, perhaps?
(Probably not, because can he really consider them his friends if he feels nothing towards them?)
One of them is Yoshino, of course. The other ones are a girl with shoulder-length, light brown hair and reddish eyes who insists he calls her by her first name as well, namely Yumi; and a boy with black hair and brown eyes who says he’s not Yoshino’s brother but could have been, namely Takeo. A pretty ordinary bunch, if Rui’s being honest. From how much his parents hyped this new school, he expected something more special.
But he does not feel disappointed,
because he doesn’t feel anything
because it would be rude.
“Ooh, I like your hair!” Yumi points out, making gestures towards his uncommon, cyan and purple hair.
“Me and my parents decided to dye it a while ago so I wouldn’t look too plain,” is what he answers, to which his classmates laugh, waving it off as a joke.
“Anyway, Kamishiro, tell us about yourself!” Takeo encourages.
And that is the moment he’s been preparing for, isn’t it? All those lessons he took and fake interests he chose to possess, so that people would like him more, they’re going to get out into practice now. The idea of pretending every time he’s around those people doesn’t sound too appealing, but really, what does?
Besides, although his parents don’t say it, he knows he needs to atone for the sin of being unfeeling.
“Please, call me Rui. I don’t know exactly what you guys want to know, but my birthday’s in June and my dream is so be an actor,” he answers, fake shyness slipping into his tone.
In reality, Rui knows he’s already achieved that ‘dream’ of his. He thinks it would sound more truthful if he said he likes to build, to construct, and he doesn’t have any dreams. Because he doesn’t, but he’s good at building.
It probably isn’t an activity or hobby a middle schooler should have, though, so he stays quiet.
“That’s so cool!”
“Sounds awesome!”
“It’s a nice dream.”
And Rui nods, because it’s certainly what a normal middle schooler would think of his ‘dream’.
He thinks he’s condemned to a life of acting and lying, anyway.
ꨄ
Rui exhales as he reaches the door to the school rooftop.
The past weeks have been rather monotone, he admits. He thinks he’s worked his way into the surface of his classmates’ hearts, and quickly fell into a routine. A lot of people enjoy talking to him, which his parents think it’s lovely. So he spends his mornings going to school, talking to other kids during breaks (and during classes too, but nobody has to know) and hanging out with Yoshino’s group.
Rui is considerably popular, and everyone thinks he’s friendly and nice. His parents are proud.
He swings the door open, taking in the sight of the rooftop. It’s really hot, so he thought it would be a good idea to go to the most windy and empty place in the school after concluding his afterschool activities. It should be empty, he knows.
So why is there a pink-haired boy staring back at him from the floor?
“Hello?” it sounds like a question, which Rui is certain his mother would reprimand him for. He always has to sound sure of whatever he’s saying. Otherwise, people will think he’s lying or being rude about it.
He can’t afford that, apparently.
“What are you doing here, Kamishiro?” the boy asks, narrowing his eyes at Rui, who stands there, unmoving.
“I just wanted to get some fresh air,” he responds, finally moving from his spot and letting the door shut by itself. “I didn’t expect to find anyone else here.”
He takes a few steps closer to the boy, noticing the light pink hairpin on his hair, almost unnoticeable due to the similar colors. But he’s seen that thing before, he thinks. On the hair of one of his classmates. He thinks his name is…
“Akiyama-san?” he calls, to which the boy perks up for a moment before clicking his tongue and moving his gaze to the sky.
So this boy is, in fact, one of his classmates. Akiyama Mizuki, the quiet one who doesn’t talk unless talked to in classes. Rui thinks he wouldn’t have known they were even in the same class, had his parents not forced him to learn the name of each one of his peers.
“I’m surprised that you even know my name. Barely anyone in this school knows. And those who do…” his voice trails off, which leaves Rui with quite a few questions about ‘those who do’. Deciding that asking about it would not be the best choice at the moment, he hums.
“Good thing I memorized it, then,” he tries to smile at Akiyama-san, but the other boy dodges his eyes, settling on staring at the horizon instead.
The purple-haired boy doesn’t question it. He’s not curious about it. He doesn’t care, and, if he were a good person, one with feelings , he probably would feel bad about it.
But Rui doesn’t understand Akiyama-san’s feelings, doesn’t care about them and doesn’t wish to anger him by asking questions he doesn’t want to answer.
Rui keeps quiet.
“Why are you staring at me?” Akiyama-san’s voice catches his attention, the boy finally deciding he’s worth looking at.
He tilts his head. “I was? I didn’t realize.”
“Why were you?” he insists, and Rui notes that it would probably annoy most people, or maybe embarrass.
“I was analyzing you,” he says truthfully, which he now realizes he probably shouldn’t have. Most adults brush it off as some normal stuff he likes to do because he’s a kid, but other kids his age might think it’s weird.
Surprisingly, though, Akiyama-san snorts, not giving off any signs of annoyance or anger. The other boy crosses his arms, the ghost of a smile on his face, and lifts a brow at Rui.
“You’re kinda funny, I’ll give you that.”
Oh, wait. “Do you think it’s a joke?”
“Is it not?”
Silence. Rui ponders what to say.
“No, it’s not.” he settles for, because his parents are not here, so they don’t have to know he’s acting like the emotionless freak he is.
He thinks it was about time Akiyama-san got weirded out as his classmate wrinkled their nose, only to grin at him with a little more of openness and sincerity this one.
“Oh, I like you,” the pink-haired one says as he gets up from their place on the floor and walks towards the exit. They reach for the handle, and then stop. “You’re different than I thought you’d be. Out of the ordinary, for real.”
And then he’s gone, and Rui’s alone. He wonders if they’ll meet again, outside of the classroom. He wonders if it really matters, after all.
He doesn’t really care.
ꨄ
It became some sort of routine for Rui to go to the rooftop upon finishing on-campus afterschool activity.
He doesn’t do it everyday, but it’s frequent. Akiyama-san is always one step ahead when he gets there. It had been a few weeks since it started, and the pink-haired boy still didn’t seem to consider Rui his friend yet.
He did, however, ask Rui to start calling him Mizuki.
Rui knows that Mizuki has some reservations towards people for a reason. He also knows that it is likely that part of the reason are the rest of his classmates, if he’s being honest. He pretends he doesn’t get it, because he knows it’s insensible to be friends with someone who’s hurt your friend, but he
doesn’t care to
can’t turn his back on everyone. Not
when he doesn’t care
if he doesn’t want to anger his parents.
Life went on, and it’s been eight months since the start of the school year, and Rui has befriended everyone in his class, including Mizuki. His cheeks often ache from smiling too much, but at least his parents are pleased with him. He’s not surprised that he still doesn’t give a damn.
For the past eight months, Rui has tried to care. He’s tried to be better, to get better. To feel something, anything. He hasn’t had any success.
Before he knows, he’s back on the rooftop.
“You haven’t said anything since you got here,” Mizuki mutters, pouting at him. If he were in a better state of mind, he probably would have feigned a laugh.
If he were a normal person, he probably would have laughed for real.
“I’m thinking,” he answers, simple and practical.
“Well, stop thinking, then. Say something.”
“Why don’t you say something?” for a moment, Mizuki was too stunned to speak.
And they he started cackling.
“I knew you were more than just smiles and gentleness! Good job, Rui, good job!” Mizuki congratulated as he started ruffling his hair. It would certainly have annoyed him, had he not been born the way he was.
Condescending.
“Please, stop messing with my hair.”
“Make me!”
Yeah. Condescending.
ꨄ
“Rui, we need to talk.”
Rui stops on his tracks, a blank expression on his face. He’s gotten a little too ‘comfortable’ around Mizuki, he’ll admit. Maybe because the other boy doesn’t seem like the kind to judge him for what expression he has on his face. Rui thinks he should be grateful for that. He isn’t, because he can’t feel any gratitude, as per usual.
Rui is now on his second year of middle school. He’s grown taller. In fact, he’s now taller than most of his classmates, with one or two exceptions. Mizuki seems to be… annoyed by that fact, now that he is shorter.
His hair changed too. He pondered stopping dying it, so he could blend in with his peers, but Yoshino, Yumi, Takeo and even Mizuki himself protested against the decision, so he let it be.
The people around him changed, too, the most noticeable of changes being with Mizuki. The boy let his hair grow out and cut his bangs. The pink shade of his hair is now even lighter than it used to be. A distant part of Rui’s brain thinks it suits him, but the thought doesn’t stand out enough to be said out loud. Besides, the boy is into fashion, so he probably already knows.
“What do you want to talk about?” he asked easily, walking down to Mizuki to stand side by side. A glance at the shorter boy and he can tell something’s bothering him. Rui feels… no, he knows he should care. He still doesn’t.
“I’m non-binary,” Mizuki blurts out.
Rui’s unfeeling heart doesn’t feel confusion. His brain also doesn’t. No, he knows what Mizuki means. He was just caught off guard.
And, God, how off guard had he been. Had his nonexistence of emotions taken a tool on him? Rui can’t think of any other logical reason for not realizing something like that sooner. He spends a lot of time with Mizuki, after all…
“You’re non-binary,” he repeats
“Yeah. My pronouns are they/them,” Mizuki’s voice is small, almost nonexistent, an unusual tone coming from… them.
“Alright,” he replies, not bothering to fill his voice with any kind of emotion.
“You… Huh?!” Mizuki sounds almost exasperated, turning to look at him in the eye with a frown.
“What’s wrong?” and the question is honest, because he has no clue what’s wrong, but he’s certain he’s done nothing that could anger them.
“I… You’re unbelievable, you know that? You don’t even sound surprised… Was I that obvious?” they ask with a slump of their shoulders, seeming close to deflating before Rui’s very eyes.
“No, you weren’t,” he consoles, patting their shoulder as Mizuki sighs.
“Well, I’m glad.”
“Glad that you weren’t obvious?”
“No, dumbass! You’re impossible, I’m starting to think you’re doing this on purpose…”
Rui has no idea what he did wrong.
ꨄ
Days passed by, turning into weeks, and then months, and months turned into years, and, eventually, Rui found himself finishing middle school alongside his classmates.
The students display all different kinds of emotions on their faces. Some are relived, finally free from their middle school hellhole. Others, who like to think ahead, look rather dreadful, which was no surprise. If middle school was hell, high school might just be Satan himself.
Rui thinks that, if someone were to pay attention to each of the people inside the school gym, celebrating the graduation from junior high, they would be taken aback by how different his face must be from the others. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that his smile is fake, just as any other feeling he’s showing.
But no one is paying such close attention to him, of course, too focused on their own emotions and issues, so no one notices.
He’s already gotten acquainted with the rest of his classmates, just enough so they could brush his disappearance off and go on with whatever they’re doing. Rui vaguely wonders whether he’d care if he managed to make his peers worry and fuss about him on the day of their graduation. He thinks not. He’s got other things in mind, for Mizuki hasn’t shown their face to him in the span of 24 hours and it is enough to let him looking for any signs that he might be growing worried. He knows he won’t find them, of course.
When he opens the door to the one place he knows Mizuki will be at, he isn’t at all surprised to see them there. Actually, he wouldn’t be either way, but still.
“What are you doing up here?” Rui asks, letting the door close behind him with rather loud noise.
Mizuki looks up at him, and he takes in their appearance. They has their arms crossed over the railing, like usual. Their long hair is unusually disheveled, their face red and their eyes watery. For a second they stare at each other, before the pink-haired one simply coughs and looks away.
Rui almost sighs. “So…?” he asks again, making his way to stand side by side with what would probably be his closest friend.
He’s not pushy. In fact, he’s probably got to be the farthest from a pushy person. He mostly leaves others to their own devices, including Mizuki, but this is not something he can simply ignore. People cry from happiness, or even anger sometimes, but he knows it’s none of those. What kind of friend would he be if he left them here, sad and crying?
“I don’t… Fuck, Rui, I don’t want to part ways,” Mizuki admits, eventually. “Y-You’re my only… My only friend, a-and you know it, and I know you know it. I don’t want to leave, I don’t want to go back to how it was.”
Rui takes a moment to reflect, refusing to meet Mizuki’s eyes. Not because he can’t, but he doesn’t want them to think he’s done contemplating.
It is something he’s thought about, of course. Which High School he wanted to attend. He could probably follow other classmates to their schools, so they could continue their friendship from a close distance. Maybe Yoshino, the first one to talk to him, and Takeo and Yumi by extension. He’s thought about going to whatever school Mizuki would be attending, too.
Then again, Kamishiro Rui doesn’t feel anything. He’s an actor. No, a liar. Every decision he makes, it’s because of what his parents instructed him to do, regarding what he was supposed to feel. Everything he does is based on possible choices of another Rui, living in a world where he feels.
But this one doesn’t, and no one has any control over what he chooses right now, because no one else is him. His parents aren’t him. He’s free to do whatever he wants, but he doesn’t want anything either.
“What school are you going to?” he asks, impossibly quiet, but he knows Mizuki heard.
“I…” they sigh, burying their head in their arms. “Kamiyama.”
At that moment, Rui makes a choice.
ꨄ
Mizuki’s changed.
Yeah, well, of course. Everybody changes, and they’re in High School now, so people tend to change with new circumstances on their lives, whether they do it to fit in or to be cooler or friendlier.
What he means is that Mizuki has changed, and it is probably for the better. They seem happier now, always smiling and talking and running. They’re so full of life, comparable to some kids back in Junior High that they liked to complain about. They talk louder, too, and they’re not afraid to shine in front of other people. They don’t hide in the shadows, or at the rooftop, anymore. They say what they mean and they mean what they say.
And, oh, right — they also have a tendency to drag Rui around with them, which he doesn’t personally like or dislike, just like everything else.
He doesn’t know exactly when his friend started getting better, but it certainly has something to do with K. Ever since they started their… thing, with the others, his pink-haired friend has been very cheery.
He’s satisfied with it, even if Mizuki is slowly starting to spend more time with other people. It’s not like he wasn’t expecting it, either way, because they can be really nice if they want to.
And it is his mission, to stone for his sins and make everyone around him happier and lighter, after all.
And so he finds himself on the rooftop of Kamiyama High School, 2 months into the school year, as he stared blankly at the sky. This time, there’s nobody to accompany him, but he isn’t bothered. Of course he has friends, like Mizuki does now, but once a week it’s good to go to a more reserved place where he doesn’t have to fake smiles, act surprised or any of that. Rui doesn’t expect Mizuki to show up. He doesn’t expect anyone else to show up, actually.
Well, certainly not a no-good blonde with a booming voice and flashy personality.
ꨄ
Rui has a sinking feeling his life is about to change.
(… Metaphorically.)