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The League Of Villains hideout was quiet tonight. A rare moment where the world stood still on demanding them into a fight, to bleed, to run. A moment to simply exist as themselves. To rest and rejuvenate. Peace finally claimed them. The only sound in the room was Jin’s soft snoring. Beside him, Atsuhiro was having a harder time sleeping. He would have been asleep if it wasn’t for the burning ache in his missing arm. Phantom Pain. A cruel trick from the nerves. Deceiving his brain into feeling something that is not there. Slowly, he sat up, careful not to disturb Jin. This wasn’t the first time this has happened and it wouldn’t be the last. Nearly 6 months had passed since that night with Overhaul and while the pain had lessened, it did tend to come up at the most inconvenient times.
Atsuhiro flexed the fingers of his remaining hand, clenching the blanket to help ride out the pain. His breathing was slow but heavy as he shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, a loud creak of the mattress followed as he breathed in the smell of cigarette smoke that lingered through the hideout. He never told the others but losing his arm had taken something inside him. Something other than flesh and bone. He was not the same man as before. Sure he hid his pain behind theatrics and jokes but inside, playing the role of a man unshaken. But inside, he felt broken and this physical pain was only a reminder of what he had lost. Eventually, Jin stirred beside him. “Atsu?” His voice was low from sleep. Blinking sleepily before his gaze found Atsuhiro against the dim light of the lamp. “You okay?”
Atsuhiro sighed, of course, Jin would wake up. The man’s instinct to worry over the people he loved was always sharp. “Just a little discomfort,” Atsuhiro admitted, trying to sound nonchalant. “Go back to sleep, darling.”
Jin, now fully awake, sat up fully beside him. “Nope, we are not doing that again. You are hurting and I’m helping.” Atsuhiro chuckled softly at Jin’s stubbornness as he scooted closer, resting his head against Atsuhiro’s shoulder. Without hesitation, he reached for Atsuhiro’s remaining hand, intertwining their fingers. “How bad is it?”
Atsuhiro hesitated. He isn’t one to complain, not seriously that is. Not even to Jin, the man has loved for all this time. But tonight, he decided to be honest. “...It’s bad tonight.”
Jin squeezed Atsuhiro’s hand a little harder, a silent understanding. Jin's expression darkened, eying the space where Atsuhiro’s arm should be in the dim light. Instead a hollow of a sleeve, a quiet reminder of what was taken. Jin had never forgiven himself for what happened. And he wasn’t sure he ever would. Atsuhiro had never once blamed him or shown any hint of resentment. But guilt like that just never goes away, especially to someone who he loves more than anything. Carefully, Jin’s fingers hovered around the sleeve-covered, scarred skin. “Can I?” He asked softly.
Atsuhiro gave him a small nod. Jin’s careful fingers traced the edge of the nub in the sleeve. His touch didn’t erase the pain but it did ease it, even slightly. Atsuhiro still welcomed the touch.
“I wish I could take it away,” Jin murmured. “I wish I could… I don’t know... Clone another arm for you or something.”
Atsuhiro huffed a quiet chuckle at Jin’s attempt to lighten the mood. “That would make an interesting magic trick.”
Jin smiled faintly, but his expression quickly grew serious. “I mean it. I hate seeing you in pain.”
Atsuhiro softened at his words. He turned, facing Jin fully, their foreheads touching. “And I hate seeing you doubt yourself.” He murmured. “Yet here we are, trying to mend what's missing.”
Jin swallowed, his throat tightening. His eyes welled up, almost tearing up.
“Is there anything I can do?” Jin was already up to go grab a warm towel or a glass of water with painkillers.
Atsuhiro kissed Jin’s cheek, his lips warm against Jin’s skin. “Just stay with me.”
Jin nodded and without hesitation pulled Atsuhiro into his arms, guiding them down onto the bed. He tucked Atsuhiro’s head beneath his chin, exhaling a steady breath. “You’re still whole, y’know, still Atsuhiro.” Jin whispered, his tone certain.
Atsuhiro relaxed against Jin’s broad chest, settling into the comforting embrace. “And so are you.” He murmured. “You are still Jin.”
Jin held him tighter, almost trying to merge as one like the cracks in both of them would disappear. But it's not that simple. His breathing slowed, matching the rise and fall to Atsuhiro’s measured breaths. This is real. He told himself. I am real, Not another clone waiting to disappear. Atsuhiro was warm and solid against him. A steadiness that Jin had spent most of his life looking for. And now that he had it, he never wanted to let go. “I don’t always feel real.” His voice was raw, barely above a whisper.
Atsuhiro nuzzled closer, his lips brushing against Jin’s ear. “Then let me remind you.”
Jin exhaled softly into the warmth, into the quiet reassurance of being held. Here in Atsuhiro’s arms, he didn’t feel like a copy. He felt real. And maybe that was enough.
Neither of them spoke after that. They didn’t need to. They stayed wrapped up in each other's arms, their bodies intertwined. Breathing steadily in the quiet of the night. Atsuhiro’s phantom pain still lingered. Jin’s doubt never fully faded. But right now, in this moment they didn’t feel incomplete, didn’t feel broken. Atsuhiro tightened his grip on Jin’s hand, a silent I am here. Jin responded with a soft squeeze and a kiss to Atsuhiro’s brown curls to say a silent So am I. They didn’t need to fix what was missing. In the warmth of an embrace, the steady rhythm of their hearts, they found something better. An understanding that they didn’t have to face the unknown alone. Atsuhiro and Jin had everything they needed right here.
This was enough. They were whole.