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Yashiro’s hand shook around the small glass vial, knuckles white as her other hand furiously swiped at the tears welling in her eyes.
Another attempt, failed.
Teru squeezed his hands into fists as the school stared down at them, identical to the one they’d grown up in yet so, so different. They’d used the sand clock a total of eight times. They’d gone back in time and changed reality eight damned times. Every single version was as real as the last, as real as the basement that Teru had fought his way out of.
He vividly remembered when Aoi crumbled and Akane grew distracted, Teru’s sword flying out of her hand as her head hit the well-
The well.
Teru had been in favor of changing the timeline back to its original one from the moment he realized that the world had twisted. When he realized that Yashiro was the star of the play, and then that he was engaged to Akane, and finally, when Kou fizzled out of existence at the mercy of Teru’s lightning. Murdered by that thing.
His family would frown upon using the sand clock. He didn’t even know it existed, emphasizing the dangers of it. If Kou hadn’t fizzled out in front of him-- he couldn’t get himself to speak the words, even internally-- he might have looked for another way.
There was no other choice.
He hadn’t intended to run after Yashiro, merely running off instinct and training that had been ingrained into him since he was old enough to hold a sword. It was a stroke of luck-- ironic, since he’d never been lucky in his life-- that his knees had hit the grass, rather than wood, when he finally decided Yashiro had made it out. His face was still scabbed from being thrown away from the explosion. When he’d looked up from the grass, it was to an extended hand and heavy breaths that sounded an awful lot like sobs.
Teru felt like he was torn open and taped together again, held in one piece by straggly tape that had already been peeled off enough times to remove the sticky residue. Every time he blinked he saw Kou at the bottom of the well, and every time he opened his eyes he was reminded of just how real it was.
He was anything but functioning, but this was all he had. Yashiro had a better chance of succeeding if he was with her. They had each other’s knowledge and drive, along with warm skin to grasp themselves in reality.
They hadn’t talked about it, hadn’t faced it, but they both knew exactly what they had to do.
There was no other option.
This time, they’d accidentally stopped the Akane family from existing. Teru stopped trying to puzzle together the series of events after Yashiro was asked how she came back to life several attempts ago. It hurt his head, and he was so far past a limit he never knew existed.
“Okay,” Yashiro breathed, talking more to herself than Teru. “Okay. Next time.”
Her hand was shaking so violently, gripped tightly around the vial, that Teru suddenly had the horrible vision of it shattering. Kou was alive in this world, but Akane wasn’t. Aoi would never stand for it-- even if he couldn’t remember her.
Each attempt, they’d done everything they could to avoid their friends. Teru hadn’t seen Kou once, and if he did, he was halfway certain he would smash the sand clock and accept that he had him back. Akane had approached Yashiro three attempts ago, and she’d burst into tears so unshakeable that Teru had to drag her away and hurt Akane’s feelings in the process. It didn’t matter, seeing as the school yearbook honored a teacher named Amane Yugi.
Teru took a deep breath and pretended that it didn’t catch in his lungs, stepping up to Yashiro before she could rewrite reality again. They would do it, they would keep doing it until they had their world back, but they were too far beyond a breaking point.
They needed to think.
(Thinking led to the Red House, which led to Kou, which made Teru’s knees feel like buckling and his heart shatter all over again.)
They couldn’t do anything if they didn’t think.
Teru took eight painstaking steps toward Yashiro and wrapped his hand over her’s on the sand clock, suffocating the trembles as she looked at him. Her mouth fell open, as if she’d forgotten he was there entirely.
He inhaled, “I think-”
“No,” Yashiro’s voice broke. “No, no. We have to. I’m not going to stop-”
“I agree,” Teru interrupted, aware of where her thoughts had gone.
Tears had dripped onto her cheeks in the panic, his hand tighter around hers from where she’d tried to yank the sand clock away. He noticed for the first time how tangled her hair was and the various stains on her uniform, accumulated during their multitude of attempts at fixing the world. He could only imagine what he looked like.
“I’m not stopping either,” his voice sounded foreign to his own ears. “We’re not stopping until everything is normal. I was going to say that we need to take a moment to breathe and regroup. We’re losing it.”
And, they were. It was almost terrifying. Teru was a rational, calm person. He’d looked his own death in the eyes and found a way to pick his sword back up more times than he could count. Since before he knew long division he’d been in life or death scenarios, forced to navigate them with the expertise of an experienced adult. He didn’t fall apart, not in the face of danger, and certainly not with emotions he wasn’t supposed to have.
He was good at burying his emotions, up until he saw Kou at the bottom of that well. His hand shook over Yashiro’s.
She hiccuped, something like a broken laugh escaping her in the silent courtyard. The street lamp only illuminated the space directly around them, but there was no ghost that could scare Teru. Not before, not now.
“Are we losing it?” She asked, coming back down to earth.
“I think we lost it a while ago. We’re fumbling blindly. We need to think.”
They’d talked, as anyone would in eight failed loops, but it was all situational. He talked Yashiro down from a panic when Aoi’s watch crumbled into pieces, and she smiled at him after she grabbed the sand clock from the Clock Keeper-- he’d been frozen, too caught up in the grief slowly wrapping around his throat.
At the beginning of each new loop they split up, using the roof of the old building as a rendezvous point. They fed information back to each other as if they were talking like nothing had happened. Yashiro had set a warm hand on Teru’s wrist more than a few times, when the scene around him was a little too fuzzy and the Red House’s basement a little too clear. They tried to keep each other from falling apart, and they tried to reset the world.
They’d both fallen apart-- all the way back in the Red House, if Teru was honest with himself.
Yashiro nodded, knuckles relaxing around the sand clock as if her strings had been loosened. She looked at the nearest bench, one which they’d both sat on at various times during their time at the school. Last time, Teru was accompanied by Aoi. He tried to ignore the tightening within his throat as he followed her, sitting on the cool metal.
The silence was impossibly loud. Teru fiddled with the beads of his bracelet, swallowing. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a sip of water. Neither of them had eaten, either, despite having spent much longer than a consecutive day skipping through time.
Sleep was out of the question, considering the sight that greeted him every time he opened his eyes.
Beside him, Yashiro took a deep breath. It was probably her first since before the Red House. They hadn’t sat down like this, hadn’t stopped moving once. Everything was as hazy as it was painfully crisp, the lump in his throat growing.
What if they couldn’t get back?
“Minamoto-Senpai,” Yashiro broke the silence, silencing his thoughts before they could take a turn for the worst.
He hummed, leaning his elbows on his knees and rubbing his hands over his face. They needed to make a plan. He was panicking, and Yashiro was figuring out a plan. He was supposed to be better than this; he wasn’t supposed to panic.
“Have you ever had a crush?”
If her previous words broke the silence, these ones sliced through the space between them like his sword could have, if it wasn’t left behind in a world they’d run from. He’d had it on him in a few loops, but not this one.
He turned to her, craning his neck from where he was leaning forward. She was slouched onto the bench like she needed to give all of her bones a break, as if she would never get up again. Her hair truly was a disaster.
Something about the question shrank the lump in Teru’s throat. It was so irrelevant, so entirely pointless to everything they were doing-- to everything he’d ever done. No one had ever asked that question with actual care for the answer before. It became evident that it was merely a distraction, a way to reset their minds before they made a plan, but the absolute absurdity of it made a smile spread on his face. He could have almost chuckled.
He looked forward again, hands cupping his cheeks, and stared at the window that he knew faced the room used for student council meetings. He often stared out of the window when the words on his paperwork blurred. Aoi always caught him, kicking his foot beneath the desks they pushed together.
It was so laughably unimportant, but Teru would do anything to get back to that world. The sand clock sat in Yashiro’s open palm. When he suggested taking a moment to breathe, he meant so they could plan, but maybe, there was value to this, too.
“Just once.”
Teru wasn’t allowed to have things like that.
In an instant, the ability of movement returned to Yashiro’s limbs, her face suddenly beside his own as she sat up.
“Seriously?”
It was the most like herself she’d sounded in days. He looked at her again, suddenly seeing the value in the conversation. If they went straight into planning, they would merely continue the cycle of spiraling. They hadn’t joked, hadn’t talked, hadn’t done anything except for trying to get home.
He raised an eyebrow, “That surprised? That stings, Yashiro.”
The sand clock was dropped into her lap as her hands went up, waving in front of her as she shook her head.
“I didn’t mean it that way at all!”
He chuckled, looking back at the window that he was always on the other side of. He wasn’t sure when he learned exactly which one it was from the outside.
“I know, I know.”
Her hands went into her lap, picking back up the clock. He was relieved. They were both petrified to let anything happen to it.
“It’s just, knowing the way you live your life, really knowing, now, I didn’t expect it from you. I would’ve been surprised before, too, but not like this.”
Teru wasn’t used to being known. Yashiro didn’t even say that she knew him, she was smarter than that, seeing how hard it was for him to open up to anyone. Yet, she wasn’t wrong, either. Few people knew the way he lived his life, and even fewer thought about how it would impact him.
“It surprised me too,” he said, sounding a little more like himself. “You’re right. I’m not really supposed to have that.”
He couldn’t see her, but the brief silence was enough for him to imagine her eyebrows drawn together. He dared to glance over and found exactly that, huffing out a laugh.
“I don’t like that. You can’t help some things.”
Teru smiled thinly. She was right; if he could have helped it, he would’ve. He looked at the window and decided that after he hugged Kou and made sure he was alright, the second thing he wanted was to experience another student council meeting. He didn’t care about the work or the other members-- none except one.
They were going to fix it. They’d been fumbling in the dark, but sitting on the bench, he could already see plans of action unfurling in his mind. The lump in his throat returned.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “I know you’ve had a crush or two.”
Yashiro chuckled uneasily, sitting up so that she was beside him again. He failed to remember if she was good at sitting still on a normal day, or if it was the anxiety of the situation manifesting. He wished he knew people better before the world fell apart; he wished he’d cared enough before just a few months ago, when something flipped in his brain as he began to cherish afternoons spent with Aoi in the student council room. Something that had been built since childhood, which sounded a suspicious amount like his father’s voice, and had shattered in the face of his dead brother.
“I had a lot of crushes. Too many, probably. We’re opposites in that way. None of it was all that real, though. I see that now.”
It was such a childish conversation, especially with the problem at hand, but Teru suddenly found himself holding onto it with both hands. It was more of an escape than he expected.
For the first time in days, Teru cracked a smile, sliding his gaze over to Yashiro, “Instead you’re in love with the murderer?”
She sighed, and Teru saw the exhaustion in pink eyes for the first time. He was willing to bet that his eyes didn’t look much better. He kept the smile on his face, teasing her instead of truly calling out her foolish behavior. She didn’t need that, not now; he wouldn’t be him if he didn’t at least tease her about it, though. Her lips bent upward slightly even as she looked out longingly.
“I guess I am,” a gust of wind blew past, as if said murderer was in the air, despite not existing in this world.
Her gaze was a little too far away for Teru’s liking, and he suddenly feared he’d made things worse.
“I’m surprised you’re not asking who I liked.”
When did Teru start caring about other people’s feelings?
The moment he said the words, he knew it was a mistake, wide pink eyes suddenly turning to him. Her entire body shifted to him, bumping into his leg as her hands went to her knees. It was like the cloud had been lifted. Her eyes were still tired and her hair remained a mess, the shadow of their reality hanging close, but for this moment, they could talk. They could be normal teenagers, something Teru hadn’t been even before the world went off its axis.
“Oh my goodness, you’re right, who was it? Was it another exorcist? An exorcist love story?” Her hands clasped, going up to her cheek as if she could see the story unfolding.
Teru chuckled, shaking his head as he adjusted to lean back on the bench.
Diverting the attention back to him had been a mistake. He swallowed, deciding that he could navigate the conversation easily enough. He could lie. He didn’t want to talk about his actual crush, the foolish thing that he should have been far above, so he would steer the conversation away like he was prone to doing.
(This wasn’t the same, though. Not when he and Yashiro had been to hell and back, with only each other’s warm hands to stay grounded. His mouth was suddenly dry, less sure that he could handle this.)
“No, I don’t think exorcists are prone to that. I don’t know any of them all that well, especially not on a personal level.”
The excitement faded out of Yashiro’s eyes, but she remained turned toward him, a small smile on her face. This was good for her. This would help them succeed.
“I guess that makes sense. You don’t know many people on a personal level, do you?”
Teru looked at the grass, wet with condensation, “Yeah.”
Instead of stewing in sadness, Yashiro sat up again.
“Well, that just makes it even more significant that you liked someone. Is it a student here?”
Teru looked up from the miserable grass, made from a world that they didn’t recognize. For the first time, he felt just how tired he was. In the next loop, if they got a chance, he would try to get them both some food. Even if their bodies were of this world and had eaten, neither of them really had.
He let his shoulder hit the bench, facing Yashiro a little more as he raised an eyebrow.
“Where else would I meet someone?”
She clapped her hands together, smile growing once again.
“Do I know her? Is she part of student council? Is she pretty? Wait- is it even a she?”
Teru hadn’t planned very far ahead before he brought up his own crush, merely trying to bring Yashiro back from the hellscape of her own thoughts. Yet, he’d been soothed by his ability to lie, before realizing how transparent he might be after everything they’d been through. At the very least, she didn’t even know that he liked men-- he hadn’t even known that before he realized he liked a certain redhead.
He’d backed himself into a corner, now.
He chuckled awkwardly, “I wasn’t actually planning on telling you, you know.”
Yashiro’s eyes went as wide as saucers, a look that was familiar on her, until it wasn’t-- until everything fell apart. It felt like he was suddenly looking at the real Yashiro, momentarily uncovered by the shadows of everything they’d been through, and merely her in her natural state. Maybe, even if it was at his own expense, this conversation meant something.
Teru’s heart was still going to pound out of his chest.
“Wait, oh my gosh, did you not want people to know that, I swear I won’t tell-”
Teru couldn't stop himself from laughing, the sound bouncing around in his chest until he couldn’t keep it in anymore. For something he’d never given any thought to, Yashiro sure was panicking a whole lot.
“You’re okay, Yashiro,” he waved a hand. “I never even thought about it. Really, my crushes don’t matter, not with the duty I have to my family. But, maybe, don’t tell.”
She nodded heartily, her eyes shrinking back to a normal size, even as she remained sitting up at his side. Pink eyes studied him, and he remembered vividly when she was merely another face in a crowd. Why did it take such a traumatic experience for him to consider the idea that Yashiro could be a friend?
“I won’t, I promise. That must make all the girls who confess to you really annoying… sorry about that,” she cringed. “Wait, so you still like this person?”
“It’s annoying regardless,” he shrugged. “Yeah, I do.”
She hummed, “Well, regardless of your family, I think it matters. It’s how you feel. I know I can’t even begin to understand, but no one should be able to tell you that your feelings don’t matter. I don’t like that at all.”
Teru blinked.
Kou told him that, sometimes. Kou was dead. Never as overtly, not when Teru’s emotional ability was near zero, but Teru knew he’d tried to say it. The thought of his baby brother made his chest ache and his legs yearn to jump up and find him, so he pushed it out of his mind and focused on Yashiro’s words.
“That’s… nice of you. If I could get rid of it, I would.”
She frowned, “You don’t think he likes you back?”
Teru chuckled, thinking of the consistent confessions that they both witnessed everyday. Aoi had pulled back from them since the Severance, him and Akane newly understanding each other on a deeper level, but Teru doubted that his crush was gone. He didn’t think Aoi hated him as much as he pretended to, but their friendship was built on disdain. His crush was merely a foolish oversight that he should have stopped long ago.
“I’m sure he doesn’t.”
She crossed her arms, “Have you considered trying to change that?’
“Well, again, considering my lifestyle, pursuing it is pointless anyway.”
Her eyes narrowed. Teru should have known it wasn’t an answer Yashiro would like. He chuckled, the very idea of this conversation something he couldn’t have fathomed a month ago. He already felt more focused, ready to take on the past yet again.
“I dunno, I feel like anyone who can really get close to you means a lot, since it’s so hard. I mean, think about-” Yashiro’s eyes widened yet again, her hands going over her mouth as she looked right at Teru.
His smile dropped as he realized he’d been caught.
Yashiro could not keep a secret.
(It was stupid to worry about, considering that their friends were dead, and might never return, but for now, Teru pretended everything was fine. They were having a conversation about crushes, like any friends would.)
Yashiro gasped, her words suddenly coming a mile a minute, “I really wasn’t going to pry since you obviously didn’t want to talk about it, but then I thought about it for two seconds, and knowing you and who you’re close to-- you can lie and say I’m wrong if you want but it all makes a lot of sense now-- I’m really sorry.”
The apology was whispered as her lungs cried for air, suddenly gasping in the new silence beside him. As much as Teru’s heart was pounding in his chest, something about her panic made him smile, even as his cheeks reddened. He leaned an arm on the bench and rested a palm over his cheek, a foolish attempt to hide it as he looked away.
“Make your guess, then.”
“You like Akane, don’t you?” She whispered, as if there were people around who would overhear-- as if they wouldn’t rewrite this world within the hour.
Akane, because Yashiro had known Aoi much longer than Teru had. He didn’t know when they met, but it was probably around the time she’d met Akane, her best friend. She would never be able to keep this from her. Teru was confident that Akane didn’t like Aoi back, but that didn’t mean she’d be happy about this news, either.
Teru looked at Yashiro, nearly scared of what he would find. A small smile was on her face, unable to be suppressed entirely. Her eyes were watching him as closely as a deadly supernatural would, and something about the comparison was comforting.
“Is it really that obvious?”
“Not at all,” she shook her head firmly. “I only put it together because you said it’s a guy, and someone currently, and- well, I guess I know you, now. You two have that sorta dynamic, so with the right information, it made sense. He wouldn’t be able to tell, though.”
“And Akane-San?” He raised his eyebrows.
Yashiro cringed, silence sitting between them for a moment. It was far from the heavy silence from earlier.
“She’s smart.”
This time, Teru cringed.
“Yeah.”
“If it helps, she doesn’t like Akane at all. I don’t even think he likes her anymore, not like that. It’s kind of a question of if he ever did, or if he just got caught up in respect for her and all the times their parents said they’d get married. He does jump at every chance to make fun of you…”
Teru raised his eyebrows, genuinely surprised by the idea that Aoi might not like Akane-- that he might not have ever liked her. He could see the logic, but it was so different from the reality that he’d seen unfolding for years. If anyone would know, though, it was Yashiro. She was intertwined with Aoi and Akane in a way Teru hadn’t known was possible until recently.
“I think that’s just his general dislike of me,” he said, nervousness inching into his voice.
“I don’t think he really dislikes you at all, Minamoto-Senpai,” her voice wavered as she said his surname, and he tried not to think about why. “He dislikes Hanako. And Fuji. Those are people he won’t talk to unless he absolutely has to. He talks about student council sometimes, you know? Tells us about how you two tease each other. Even though he’s complaining, he’s not the type of person who would-”
“Okay,” Teru bit out, attempting to cover both cheeks with one palm as he stared at the gates of the school. “Okay. I don’t think he likes me. And, I can’t pursue it, anyway.”
He dared to look over, finding a massive grin on Yashiro’s face.
“I’ll let you know if Aoi starts to suspect anything, still.”
The grin faltered at the mention of their currently dead friend, both of them making plans based on the far fetched assumption that they could get their world back. Akane didn’t even exist here, not right now.
He removed his hand, her eyes far too knowing to miss the redness that had undoubtedly worked its way up into his ears. He was lucky that no one was around to hear this.
“Just don’t tell her.”
She cringed momentarily, smile returning, “I’ll try my best. If she finds out, she might try-”
He raised a finger to his lips, shushing the air, the noise echoing in the empty courtyard. He couldn't do this. Teru didn’t get to have crushes, especially not on redheaded boys who were half-supernatural.
He still wasn't sure when he’d started liking Aoi, when he’d needled his way into his heart in a way that so few could. It was different from his blossoming friendships with Akane and Yashiro, different in a way that he would never want to change and simultaneously needed to change. As far as he was concerned, Aoi would never like him back, and he couldn’t pursue it in the first place.
It was easier to think that way.
(It was easier to naively assume he would someday get a chance to think that way, rather than acknowledge the dull reality of their situation.)
Yashiro giggled, breaking him out of his thoughts.
“I never thought I’d have a talk like this with you, Minamoto-Senpai.”
His lips upturned slightly, the small genuine smile that he rarely had it in him to give. More and more lately, he’d been smiling, due to the people that he might dare to call his friends.
He would do anything to get that reality back. To get his reality back-- his brother back.
“Me neither,” he admitted.
A warm palm landed on his knuckles, bent over the back of the bench. He tensed, looking at Yashiro and the small smile she had. There was nothing romantic about the act, not like he would’ve assumed a mere few months ago. It was support, the same support they’d been forced to lend each other for days now.
“We’ll get it back. When we do, can we have more chats? This was nice.”
Teru felt the heavy absence of his sword at his hip and the sad quiet of a world devoid of Akane. He wanted nothing more than to hug Kou-- in their world. He wouldn’t stop until he could.
Having other things to look forward to would only help push him further.
“I like the sound of that.”
He stood, removing his hand from beneath hers but extending the other to help her stand. The sand clock was still in her lap, but she suddenly enveloped it in the palm that had been in his mere moments ago. Her warm hand met his, and she was up.
“Thank you for this,” she said, the clock reflecting the moon between them in the dim light.
“Thank you, as well. I feel much more focused now.”
“Me too,” she nodded, a determination that few others could wield visible in her eyes.
“One more thing,” he smiled, raising a hand and daring to touch the tangled mess of hair. “Your hair is a disaster.”
Yashiro gasped, the clock tucked beneath her fingers as she grabbed at her knotted hair.
“Why didn’t you say something?” She shouted abrasively.
Her hands tried frantically to brush through the knots, and he did his best to help, having experienced such a thing with Tiara. The attempt was futile without a brush, considering just how much hair she had. It only took a few seconds for them both to give up, Yashiro huffing into the air between them.
“It’ll be fixed in just a moment, if it helps,” he smiled.
She frowned at him, forehead wrinkled, with the type of annoyance that a friend would give. Teru’s smile grew. After a moment, she sobered, and the seriousness of their reality returned.
“Okay. Yeah, you’re right. Tell me next time,” she nodded.
He nodded in agreement, watching as she turned the clock with little hesitation. They knew exactly when they needed to go back to, and this time, they’d get it right. If they didn’t, they would try again, all until they landed back in their reality.
It was all they could do to try. Teru took a deep, steadying breath. He felt more like himself, much more level-headed. The sight of Kou’s dead body still lurked beneath his eyelids, but soon enough, he’d have him in his arms. He’d get to see Aoi and Akane again, and he and Yashiro would have more chats.
They were going to fix this. There was no other option.
Reality warped as sand fell, bouncing against the glass before Teru blinked to another world altogether.