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Yusuke was troubled. In numerous ways, yes, but lately more so in matters of the heart. He couldn’t seem to… define it. Express all the things a heart could feel. In the past, he had struggled not in the mere act of finding inspiration, (nor execution, if he could say so himself.) But now, when his brush touched the canvas, Yusuke found himself blanking. What is the heart of humanity? Love, heartbreak? Hope, anguish? He had already learned in his endeavors with Akira that it was far more than one feeling and its opposite, and that was a juvenile concept to him now.
Perhaps it was just simply impossible to define with words. He should thank his lucky stars he wasn’t a writer.
Nevertheless, Yusuke had yet to see something that captured what the heart of humanity was. He was a bit desperate now, to be truthful; he would take even a thought, a motion, any glimpse of humanity where he could find it. So, naturally, he was walking into the cozy atmosphere of Leblanc once again. Yusuke knew the area better than Akira did, as the latter was from the far countryside, but perhaps seeing someone begin to familiarize themselves would in turn show he himself something new as well. Or something. Again, he was desperate.
What Yusuke didn’t expect, however, was to see a bleach-blond boy sitting in the closest booth to the door. That was where he usually awaited Akira’s arrival. Upon being noticed, the boy spoke up.
“Yo, Yusuke. What’s up, didja come for some coffee?” Ryuji said, offering a friendly smile. Yusuke hesitantly slid into the seat across from him, holding his worn messenger bag to his torso.
“I was… hoping to find Akira, actually.” He responded, peering over the back of the booth seat to see if he had missed his leader upon first glance. Ryuji was fine company, he supposed, but really not what he was looking for. They never found themselves hanging out one-on-one- rather, they truly only saw the other when the whole group of Phantom Thieves were out together.
“Oh, same. Dude’s out, I guess. Sucks, I wanted someone to go to Ogikubo with.” Ryuji sighed, crossing his arms as he leant back in his seat. As it was summer, he was in his warm weather attire: a brash yellow tank top and beige cargo shorts that most definitely clashed with the rest of his palette. But still, Yusuke was strangely drawn to the tanned muscle exposed by the frankly abhorrent tank. Defined lines, calluses, the occasional scar… Ryuji did have the body of an athlete. Yusuke held Akira in high regard, but perhaps something different this time would ignite the fire he so desperately needed to burn within him.
“Could I perhaps propose a deal, of sorts?” Yusuke spoke up, leaning forward onto the table with a sort of dangerous glimmer in his eyes. He had felt a spark of passion within him- likely due to the chance appearance of a new subject- that had laid dormant for far, far too long.
“A what?” Ryuji squinted.
“A deal.”
“I mean, yeah, I gathered that. Care to, y’know, explain?”
“Oh. Yes, well, by deal, I wish to exchange one favor for another. I will accompany you to Ogikubo, and in turn, you will be my muse for the day, if I may be so bold.” Yusuke laced his fingers together, as if this were a business proposal and not a friend asking another friend to go to lunch.
“You’re definitely being bold, man.” Ryuji said, scratching his chin idly. “What’s being a ‘muse’ entail, exactly? I’m not gonna strip for you.”
“Perhaps another time, yes, but today I wish to simply… observe.” Yusuke said with a dismissive wave. He’s been searching for a nude model still, of course, but that wasn’t his priority today.
“A-another time?” Ryuji sputtered, cheeks flushing. He shook his head, as if to clear the idea and the redness gathering in his ears. “Whatever, but sure, I guess. We can go to Ogikubo together. You ever been? Akira and I usually go to this awesome ramen joint there.”
“I cannot say I have, no. Ramen does sound quite nice today, if you would like to go there. I may not be Akira, but I can still offer my company.” Yusuke said, mentally crossing his fingers. To observe his subject in such a comfortable environment would surely show him something new of the heart. He had seen love, albeit familial, when he went out with Akira to the lake, and he had learned of the anguish and caring of Christ from the church, but perhaps to complete the triad, he must observe love towards a place, self-love by doing something one enjoys. Love for another, love for humanity, love for oneself.
“Will that really help ya out? Watching me eat some ramen?” Ryuji blinked. How could he understand, after all? He was nothing like Yusuke- the latter assumed he simply wouldn’t get it.
“In theory, yes, more than you would know.” Yusuke confirmed with a nod.
“Hell, I’ll never turn down a ramen opportunity. Let’s bounce.”
—
It was not the most comfortable train ride Yusuke had ever experienced. They were both fortunate enough to catch adjacent seats, but a rather large and inconsiderate figure to his left had him pressed against the hard, muscled lines of Ryuji’s side. Yusuke wasn’t sure if it was the heat of the cramped car, proximity, or both that rendered his hands clammy. Regardless, he found himself running his hands along his slacks to rid himself of the dampness. If the Jesus he learned about with Akira were truly so caring, he would not have put Yusuke in such a situation, he thought with a heavy exhale as the train turned, forcing him to lean harder against Ryuji.
“A-apologies.” Yusuke mumbled, nearly right against the shell of Ryuji’s ear.
“It’s, uh, fine, dude.” Ryuji said with a swallow, a stolen glance upwards. “Real… packed today, huh?”
“Indeed.” The two inches height difference truly came into play here, with how he loomed just slightly over blond hair.
“Whatever, our stop’s next anyway.”
Perhaps Yusuke ought to further examine why his heart seemed to speed up when light from the window pressed against their backs caught deep brown eyes. They became a kaleidoscope of dark honey, amber- something akin to rich mahogany- staring forward. Focused, it seemed. Something like a lighthouse of sepia tones, glowing in its own right. Something like caramel, chocolate, something Yusuke could feel running down his chin or melting in his hands. He didn’t know Ryuji had the slightest spatter of freckles across the ridge of his nose.
The beating within his chest must have been upon finding such a model he didn’t know existed right before him, surely.
“Would you be opposed to coming to my studio after we leave Ogikubo?” It was hushed, almost a prayer in Ryuji’s ear. Said boy turned to him with wide eyes, catching the rays of yellow light once again.
“…Huh? F-for what?!”
“To paint you, of course. What else?”
“Oh.” An audible swallow, again. “Right.”
“Assuming you’re free, of course. I was just struck by inspiration, and it’d be ideal to have you there with me.”
Ryuji seemed to have to consider this, his gaze narrowing once again.
“I mean… if it’ll help you out, I s’pose.”
“It’d be a great help, truly.” Yusuke prayed his breath wasn’t too warm as it fanned over Ryuji’s cheek, the train slowing to a stop.
—
The streets of Ogikubo were surprisingly packed. It was a lively, yet homely little city, with narrow sidewalks and alleyways crisscrossing between the dense assortments of buildings.
“Where is this ramen bar? Shall I look it up?” Yusuke asked, moving to pull out his phone as they exited the station.
“Nah, I know the way by heart. Been comin’ here since I was a kid- my mom’d take me almost every weekend.” Ryuji said with an easy confidence, an air of unwavering, yet subtle, cool self-assuredness that lingered around him, thrumming underneath his words as he led the way. How could you not follow someone like that?
“Ah.” Yusuke responded simply, making sure to keep close within his shadow. That was often where he found himself, someone who lingered in the shade of others. It was easier to observe than to lead, he thought, following Ryuji like a beacon in the dark through the bustling fog of people.
They stopped before a small, hole-in-the-wall restaurant a few blocks down from the station they arrived at. It looked homely, cozy, an air of ramen broth lingering around the entryway.
“This is it! I can tell ya all the best shit to order.” Ryuji grinned, moving to open the door for the both of them. He looked proud to share something so near to his heart with Yusuke, even if they weren’t the closest members of the thieves. Yusuke tucked that image away in his mind, somewhere between his ribs for future reference. He imagined taking it out from the cavity and pressing it onto a canvas, as if it could come close to capturing the brightness of his smile.
“That would be appreciated, yes.” With a nod, Yusuke stepped up to the entrance, ducking through the door. The scent intensified- he could see why Ryuji held this place in such high regard. It would most definitely aid him in his journey of the heart, with how it already seemed to warm his. “…Incredible.” He muttered, lingering in the doorway.
“Eh?” Ryuji stood by his side and let the door shut softly behind them, a shield between the restaurant and the outside world.
“This place is… remarkable.” Yusuke looked around all of the customers who were undoubtedly regulars, with how they chatted with the staff and looked entirely relaxed. It was lively, yet simultaneously calming, in a way. “Thank you for bringing me here!” He turned to Ryuji, eyes shining.
“Uh,” Ryuji blinked, likely stunned by his seemingly unwarranted gratitude. “No problem…? It’s pretty good, yeah, but thank me after you actually try the food.” He stifled a laugh, shaking his head. Yusuke wondered what was funny.
Looking around all the tables and bar side seats, Yusuke piped up, curious. “Where do you typically sit?”
“Right at the bar, usually. There aren’t many tables, so they’re always taken, but Akira and I like to sit there.” He led Yusuke over to two seats near the back wall, off of the bend of the bar. Ryuji sat easily, resting his elbows upon the jut of the counter. Again, there was that ever-present confidence Yusuke seemed to lack in himself as he too sat and crossed his legs, resting his hands on his lap. To be able to be so bold with one’s own body and presence… it was admirable, in a way. To be unabashed in yourself. Yusuke paused, considering this. When he first met Ryuji, he thought the thing he now admired was brash and arrogant, a sign of delinquency. Now, he found himself drawn to it.
“What is your usual order?” Yusuke asked, retreating from his thoughts. “The selection is not very large, but I often find that’s a good sign of what items they do serve.” He looked over the hanging menu with a scrutinizing gaze. It was a simple chalkboard, daily specials drawn on, yesterday’s traces still lingering behind it.
“I usually just get the Tokyo ramen, maybe the tonkatsu. If they have the beef bowl, I get that, but it’s not up today.” Ryuji too looked up at the board, then shrugged.
“I do not wish to brag, but I make quite the beef bowl. If you happened to stay late enough for dinner this evening, I could prepare that for us.” Yusuke offered idly as he perused the menu. Perhaps he should try the miso ramen.
“Shit, really? If it’s that good, I’d totally model for you.” Ryuji looked quite a bit more interested now, perking up.
“I happen to have the ingredients- I may have splurged slightly after the last palace’s payout.” Yusuke lowered his voice slightly, glancing over at Ryuji with an almost mischievous smile. It was like a secret, just for them to share. In response, he too grinned.
“Awesome. Sounds great to me.” With that, he summoned a staff member behind the bar. “Yo! Hey, nice to see ya! I think we’re ready to order…”
—
The food was just as good as Ryuji had said- Yusuke chose the spicy miso ramen, and while he was not the most spice-inclined individual, he still found himself wishing his bowl were deeper after he finished eating. Ryuji cleared his bowl not long before him, sort of watching Yusuke enjoy his, his observation interrupted by the occasional blip of conversation.
“Again, thank you for bringing me here, Ryuji. It truly was extraordinary- I was unaware such a place existed so close to home. I will undoubtedly be back again in the future.” Yusuke said softly, navy eyes meeting deep brown ones. Ryuji exhaled through his nose, shaking his head with an amused smile.
“Sure, man, any time. Wanna head back to your place now?” Ryuji asked, pulling a worn wallet out of one of his pockets and flipping through some bills; the last palace had been quite fruitful.
“Yes, that would be lovely.” Yusuke answered, watching Ryuji. He laid some cash on the counter beside their empty, stacked bowls. When Yusuke moved to pay for himself, he felt a warm, strong hand against his shoulder, stopping him.
“Left enough for both of us and a tip. Come on, let’s roll.” Ryuji stood, hand running down the length of Yusuke’s arm and retreating back to his side as he brushed past. It lasted not even a second, but Yusuke could have sworn it was ages. Warmth down his bicep, forearm, kissing the jut of the bone on his wrist past his sleeve…
“Ah- you needn’t have, really, I have more than enough to pay for myself,” Yusuke blinked, standing as well, uncertain. Why would Ryuji pay for him? He was not in as sorry of a place as he used to be- did he know that? Yusuke felt his cheeks warm slightly in embarrassment; it was nothing to be ashamed of, as his past circumstances were not his own fault, but nonetheless he found himself averting his gaze.
“I know. Don’t mention it.” With a final grin thrown Yusuke’s way, Ryuji turned towards the door of the restaurant, expecting him to follow once again. He did.
—
The train ride to Kosei High was uneventful, and if their arms pressed together a little closer than necessary again, neither boy acknowledged it. Thankfully, the station was close to the dorm buildings, as it had started to drizzle on the ride over. Yusuke and Ryuji stood in the doorway of the subway, people shouldering past on either side in the now grayed sunlight.
“I did not think to bring an umbrella.” Yusuke mumbled under his breath, staring forward as the rain began to pelt the pavement before them harder.
“...How far are the dorms?” Ryuji asked, glancing up at Yusuke, of whom tilted his head in response.
“Roughly three blocks straight ahead, truly not far. Do you have any ideas as to… how to remedy this situation?”
“I think so.” Ryuji grinned, a smile that Yusuke was all too familiar with from their ventures into the metaverse. “Race you there.” Before Yusuke could even respond, Ryuji was sprinting like a bat out of hell, right into the oncoming storm. After a moment of stunned silence, Yusuke found himself in the onslaught of rain, clumsily running after Ryuji.
“You! Are! Insane!” Yusuke shouted, already breathless after only a block. It appeared that he was not blessed with the same athleticism in the real world as he was granted when he was Fox; his long legs seemed to trip over themselves, catching in the cracks of the sidewalk and on stray gravel or pebbles, but Ryuji was nearly the complete opposite. His years of track and more recent training with Akira were shining through in every step and leap, expertly avoiding puddles or landing in the ones he deemed good enough for jumping in. Then, when the light broke through the clouds, seeming to spotlight Ryuji specifically, it nearly stopped Yusuke in his tracks. How it refracted off of the drops flung into the air from the puddle he landed on, how it traced his frame like the sun was meant for him alone, how it lit up his eyes like it did back on the train- his thoughts were interrupted by said boy extending a sunlit hand towards him in a gesturing motion.
“Come on, why’d you stop? I can see your dorm!” Ryuji’s laugh seemed to echo through the half of a block separating them, everyone else just slowly melting away, into puddles on asphalt. An invitation for Yusuke only. In that moment, Yusuke felt somewhere deep in his chest that he would follow him anywhere if it meant he got to take that outstretched hand- whatever that meant.
“Then do not let me catch up to you.” Yusuke almost whispered. It was surely disguised by the rain separating them. However- somehow, some way- Ryuji managed to light up even brighter before taking off in the other direction once more.
—
Soon enough, Ryuji was waiting under the overhang of the dorm building, watching Yusuke’s somewhat pitiful jog. He was an artist- his skill involved a canvas and a brush, not… whatever people who run used.
“That wasn’t much of a race, dude, but good try! You should join me and Akira sometime.” Ryuji did not hold back his snort of amusement, watching Yusuke clutch his side.
“That was vile. Never again. You do this for enjoyment?” Yusuke rasped, bangs slick and stuck to his forehead. His usually loose, long-sleeve shirt clung to his thin frame; he crossed his arms over his torso.
“Yep. You learn to love it.” Ryuji snickered, stretching. His shirt- the tank top of that ugly yellow- was in a similar predicament. It was practically paperthin, hugging every outline and ridge of hard muscle Ryuji had trained so hard to maintain. Yusuke figured he should not stare.
“Shall we… head inside? I promise not to keep you too long- it seems as though inspiration has struck.” Yusuke hummed, before finally averting his gaze for politeness sake.
“Works for me either way. If I’m here ‘till dinner, I get that beef bowl you promised.” Ryuji reminds him, pushing open the glassy doors. The foyer was filled to the brim with art of the students, current and prior; some of the windows were even stained glass, casting colored fractals of light over the carpeted floor. “Oh… huh, that’s really cool…”
“I suppose you have not been here before.” Yusuke said, watching Ryuji take it all in, a drop of water running down his tanned cheek. “Many students display old assignments here with permission. It’s always quite the sight.”
“Any of these yours?” Ryuji stepped further in, looking around the lobby. He stopped in front of one that clearly caught his eye, a swirling, dark heart of black and red and freckles of white, splattered across a canvas. “...this one, right?” Yusuke blinked, thoroughly surprised.
“I-indeed. How could you tell?” He stepped beside Ryuji, curious, staring at it alongside him. He had not signed it, and it was sort of an orphan piece- definitely not his proudest, nor one he would want to be known for.
“Something about it. Couldn’t tell ya.” Ryuji mumbled, reaching out a hand, as if to brush across the ridges of dried oil, but caught himself. “It just screams ‘Yusuke’.”
“I rather wish it did not. This piece is unfinished; I have orphaned it, for lack of a better word.” Yusuke sighed, running a hand through his still damp bangs. “I do not know where else to go with it. I am at a roadblock with it, so it is here.”
“I kinda like it. But… I get what you mean. Something’s not there, but I somehow kinda understand what you were going for.” Yusuke was unsure of when Ryuji became so adept at analyzing artwork, but he was listening to his observations nonetheless. “It’s like, the colors and shit are all there, but it’s flat.” Ryuji said, almost to himself. Then, like a light, something flicked on in Yusuke’s mind, kicking him into gear.
“You are an unsung artistic genius, Ryuji. Come with me!” Yusuke exclaimed, grabbing Ryuji by the arm and dragging him in the direction of the elevator.
“What? I mean- okay? I guess?” Ryuji stumbled after Yusuke, now tripping over himself as Yusuke had earlier. “Hey, quit tuggin’, I can walk on my own!”
—
Ryuji was likely wondering how he got here, in Yusuke’s small, cramped dorm room, half naked on a stool with the other boy sitting on an undoubtedly thrifted couch, staring at him. “You gonna… do anything, or just keep looking?”
“Patience. You agreed to this for the beef bowl.” Yusuke said absentmindedly, scrutinizing Ryuji’s bare chest. Yes, this was going to be grand.
“Okay, fair.” Ryuji conceded, leaning back into position. A few more moments passed before Yusuke shot upright.
“I’ve got it! Ah, there’s a studio space down the hall that will be perfect .” Yusuke announced, grabbing and shouldering a canvas bag that looked like it was carrying far more than was recommended.
“Can I put my shirt back on, or…”
“It will not be necessary. Follow me.”
“...Alright, Yusuke.”
Ryuji stood, following closely behind Yusuke through his dorm room and into the hall. At least most of the other students were gone, as it was the weekend, but Ryuji was still very shirtless. Thankfully, Yusuke ducked into a small corridor off to the side, pushing open a glass door. The studio was fairly large, as it was meant for all the students on the floor to use whenever inspiration struck and the actual dedicated art building was inaccessible, and it was full of half-complete sculptures, paintings, pottery, anything artistic imaginable. Yusuke walked to a section he had claimed as his own in his short time here- plasticky white sheets covered the floor and walls of his corner, splattered with paint of all colors and textures. He was quite the passionate artist.
“Please remove as much as you feel comfortable. You’ve given me the spark I have longed for since I have encountered this roadblock, Ryuji.” Yusuke put a hand to his chest in gratitude, his eyes glinting in the bright, white studio lights. Ryuji shook his head in a manner close to fondly, standing in the center of the corner of white plastic and splattered paint. Yusuke had never seen a more perfect canvas in his life.
“You know what, if I’m what does it, then I’m happy for you man.” Ryuji shrugged. “How do you want me? I’m not sure how exactly I can help you out here, but… I can tell you’ve been in some kinda slump lately, and I- “Ryuji paused, looking the other way. “-I, uh, don’t want that to affect the thieves or nothin’. So, whatever you need me to do.”
“I… appreciate that sentiment. Really, it is quite considerate of you.” Yusuke offered him a soft smile in return, bending over to dig through his overflowing bag of paints, brushes, and everything of the sort. “If you would lay down in the middle…”
Ryuji nodded, unbuttoning his still drying cargo shorts and sliding them down his legs. He left his boxers on, of which Yusuke could not blame him for, though he would not get judged in an art studio for nudity. Yusuke stood, cradling tubes of paint in his arms, moving to kneel before the now mostly nude and horizontal Ryuji. Yusuke set down his array of paints, ranging from deep bluish black to a vibrant crimson to dandelion yellow, and reached out to adjust Ryuji, before stopping himself. “Ah, would you mind if I posed you? It may be hard to describe what I want.” Ryuji shrugged, as much as he could on the ground, gaze averted and cheeks vibrant against the stark white sheet beneath him.
“Don’t care, do whatever. Just don’t get… y’know, too touchy.” Ryuji nodded, eyes flicking back to Yusuke.
“Of course, I would not do anything unnecessary. When you are here, you are just my canvas.” Yusuke confirmed easily, reaching down. Slender, pale, bony hands brushed over tanned and toned arms, pulling them into place, feeling the joints shift and creak under their tender grip. An elevated elbow, a bent knee with a scar down the front, raised and discolored, an arched back…
“This good?” Ryuji asked, lips barely shifting. He was posed as if he had just been cast down from above, reaching upwards endlessly, to something even he himself was unsure of- that was Yusuke’s vision, at least. Longing of the heart, pining, incessant want and desire, in the form of Ryuji splayed before him.
“Perfect.” The word was breathless, taken. Yusuke was nearly overcome with the urge to create, it was almost mania. His ribs themselves trembled as he reached for his brush- no, right to the paint. The darkest black he had in his collection. “Stay still.”
—
It was a wild slinging at first. Yusuke coated Ryuji’s torso, ebbing out from his chest, in the inky black, dripping down the ridges of his ribcage in rivulets onto the plastic beneath him, drying in timeless droplets. Then, he picked up a wide, square brush, smearing the handle in black. Yusuke practically dunked it into the crimson red, not even wiping the excess before flinging it forward, Ryuji flinching as it splattered across his bare, void of a chest.
“I said, stay still. ”
Before Ryuji could respond, Yusuke stood between his legs, thrusting the brush directly towards his face. Red ran down his chin, pooling in the dip of his neck between his collar bones like a reservoir of blood, trickling onto his sternum. It then hit his arms, his thighs, as if exploding from the center of his mass, like his ribs were cracked open, and what was inside flowed out.
Next, it was delicate, featherlike traces across his abdomen and chest, bright yellows and edges of blue swirling across the mostly dried blood. Blue weeped from the spaces between his lines of hard muscle, yellow gathered in the divots of his abs. Yusuke was leant over him, breath fanning across his lips as a brush so delicate defined him that Ryuji could have sworn it was Yusuke’s own touch. He felt these uncalloused, soft fingers run over his abs, his cheekbones, the cleft of his chin and freckles of his nose, lingering on the cracks of his lips, striping him in oranges and purples and every color he couldn’t name. This part could have taken minutes or hours; Ryuji would not have known.
By the time Yusuke declared Ryuji complete, the small window in the far corner of the room shone black. He sat, hovering over Ryuji’s face, painting small highlights of white along his nose and cupid’s bow. Then, he straightened, exhaling. Yusuke was covered in as much paint as his own canvas, shirt thoroughly ruined, but he could not bring himself to care. This was his magnum opus; Ryuji was his greatest creation yet.
“Hold it for just a little longer, Ryuji. I need to find my camera.” Yusuke whispered, still near to his ear, before scrambling to go search for his camera in his mess of art supplies. As soon as he left, Ryuji began to ache, as if time resumed. Thankfully, Yusuke was back in his line of sight before he could start complaining.
He held a clearly professional camera, adjusting the lens and holding it before his face, circling around Ryuji like a vulture. Each step was measured as he strove to find the perfect angle to capture the divine image before him. Then, Yusuke gasped, stilling instantly.
“Ryuji. Think of what I say to you now, and let your face move as it pleases. Feel desperation. Feel heartbreak. Feel love. Feel how it aches in your chest, how it reverberates through your torso. Does it not just tear you apart, Ryuji? Does it make something inside of you thrum so strongly you feel it will burst out? You are reaching for what you long for so deeply. It is right before you. Look up, look towards it, feel it in your grip. Look for it, long for it, take it.”
Ryuji felt his eyes move on their own, directly towards the camera, beyond it. Yusuke’s breath audibly hitched, and, a split second later, the shutter of the camera clicked. He lowered it from his face, slowly, setting it aside and kneeling before Ryuji again. His expression was indecipherable, but their eyes were looking towards the exact same thing. Ryuji broke the silence, after what was likely a full minute.
“...So… you wanna head back to your room and show me this famous beef bowl?”
“I would love to do nothing more.”