Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

White foam bubbles from the mouth of a man ripped from his humanity, dark hair plastered to his sweat-slicked forehead. His body convulses on the cold table, harsh lights painted across his body. Several wires are stuck under his skin and near his veins, shooting purple liquid through them. Two people in white hazmat suits position themselves on either side of him. Their hands are out, long, dark sticks held in their hands. A thick, one-way glass screen separates them from four other people, all dressed in long white coats with gold badges. 

Loud footsteps echo from behind the dark room, quickly approaching the people poised hesitantly in front of the screen. The man, whose badge reads “Project Lead,”  appears next to a jittery worker. 

“Vitals?” his monotonous voice carries in the deathly quiet room. The worker swallows nervously.

“Well, they were deceivingly good before we injected the serum. Now, his, um, his vitals are frayed and out of order.” His hands shake desperately. A woman near the monitor speaks up, specifying his words.

“Heartbeat’s risen by 170 beats per minute, and his blood pressure has skyrocketed. If we don’t feed him the Anti-Radical, his neural pathways have a 90% chance of shutting down.” She turns to face the Project Lead, leveling him with a hard stare. Her badge reads “Chief Executive.”

He looks at her with an eyebrow raised. “Do you want results or not? Increase his dose.”

She stands still for a few moments, defiant to the dark gaze he keeps trained on her. The 3 other scientists in the room look between the two and the man currently fighting for his life on the other side of the glass. Finally, the Chief Executive sighs, picking up a small, black walkie-talkie. 

“Increase the dose.” She mutters. A muffled voice comes through the speakers as they watch one of the hazmat suits pick up the walkie-talkie attached to their hip.

“Are you sure? He cou-” 

“Increase the dose.” Her voice is louder now. The person holding the walkie-talkie looks toward the glass screen for a second, as if they could see the people on the other side, before nodding to their companion. The other rotates the dial on the tall machine that the wires take from.

The test subject lets out a shrill scream, limbs flailing out violently. The beeps coming from the heart monitor pick up drastically before completely dropping. The heart monitor goes silent at the same time the test subject stops moving. A few moments of complete quiet go by before the two scientists dressed in hazmat suits move toward the man and wave him over with the large sticks in their hands.

One of them looks toward the glass and nods. The Chief Executive let out an audible sigh, looking toward the Project Lead, who was now storming out of the room.

* * *

“I’m just saying, my monster could take 100 gorillas if it really wanted to.” Bachira shrugs off his lab coat and hangs it over the back of the chair he sits on.

“How are you even allowed to work here?” Reo brings out his abnormally lavish lunch from a paper bag. Isagi takes a seat at their usual lunch spot, watching as Bachira shrugs again. He peers inside his bag, catching sight of the pork cutlets he’d packed this morning. Conversation picks up between his companions, Chigiri having entered the bright, heavily sterilized room as well. Isagi searches for his fork, finally cutting into his lunch after 5 grueling hours of working in the lab.

“Isagi?” A familiar, dull voice asks from the doorway. Isagi pauses mid-bite just as the chatter in the room quiets. He turns to face Ego’s wide eyes. “I need to borrow you for a moment.”

Isagi fights the heavy sigh that threatens to escape him. He swallows harshly, making eye contact with Bachira as he stands. Bachira shoots him an exaggerated grimace. Isagi walks to where Ego waits for him, hands shaking against his lab coat as he approaches the tall man.

“Due to… unforeseen circumstances, I’m going to have to shift you to a different project.” He turns and walks away, motioning for Isagi to follow him. Isagi struggles to catch up to Ego’s long strides, rushing down the hall with him. They sharply turn down long halls leading to Ego’s extremely messy office. Old noodle cups are tossed aside as Ego furiously searches his desk.

“Isagi, we’ve known each other- lock the door behind you- we’ve known each other for quite some time now, correct?” Ego glances up for a moment before returning to stifling through his drawer. Isagi nods, not quite sure what to say. “So you know I wouldn’t assign you a difficult project unless I knew you could handle it, correct?”

Isagi nods again, shoving his hands in his pockets. Ego’s face splits with an unnervingly wide smile. “Perfect!”

Ego hands him a cobalt blue file, filled to the brim with stray papers.

“I’ll be moving you to a highly classified program happening right as we speak. You will not be speaking of this project to anyone, aside from your companions within the project. As of now, you have been put in charge of a test subject and are in charge of reporting their responses and behaviors regarding the contents of the project. Everything else you need to know is in the file.”

Ego claps him on the back, lightly pushing him towards the door.

“Oh, uh, Yoichi, one last thing.” Isagi’s hand pauses on the doorknob. “The specific test subject I’m entrusting you with is known to be quite…difficult, so don’t let me down.”

Isagi’s eyes widen slightly, nodding with a blank smile plastered on his face. He rushes out of the room, clutching the file tightly to his chest.

He’d known Ego for almost 14 years, having been taken under his wing at three. Isagi’s parents had died in a car accident, leading Ego to take pity on him as he was also his nephew. Although Ego was a bit strange towards both his experiments and ideas, Isagi.  learned to mostly put aside his caution in favor of trusting his last living relative.

Isagi enters the lunchroom quietly, scurrying back to his seat.

“Isagi, you're back!” Bachira yells. “What did Ego want?”

Isagi pauses, hand hovering the file over his satchel, and he awkwardly smiles. 

“Just corrections over the…new…compound.” Isagi gives an unconvincing laugh when Reo’s eyes narrow.

“Oh, that’s good! I thought it was something serious!” Bachira giggles loudly. 

“Yeah,” Isagi chuckles uncomfortably, the silence in the room dissipating as other scientists loudly walk past the room. He sighs and drops the file into his satchel.

* * *

“Isagi.” Chigiri's voice brings Isagi out of his reverie. Putting the test tube in his hand to the side, he turns to face Chigiri. “I’m heading out, you can take Chem462 back to Storage, right?”

Isagi glances at the four large boxes of Chem462 near the back of the room. “Uh, yeah, sure!”

“Great!” Chigiri quickly discards his gloves, practically ripping off his goggles and hairnet. He unbuttons his lab coat and trades it out for an old, tattered winter coat. Chigiri waves goodbye before hurriedly rushing out of the room and leaving Isagi stranded with four large white boxes filled with a toxic chemical. 

Isagi sighs, reluctantly stretching his arms. He shifts every new test tube of their compound back into the freezer room. Packing every chemical back into the white boxes, he scurries up and down the long, dark hallways toward the Storage room and back. 

An hour later, Isagi finally changes out of his lab coat, dragging his bag outside. Fumbling in his pockets, he quickly locks the room, shoving his key back into his pants pocket. He makes it two steps forward before curiosity overtakes him, and he takes the cobalt blue file out of his satchel.

He scans over it quickly, trembling hands clutching the file as he takes in the information. Isagi forces a breath through his nose. 

Itoshi Rin

23

Hair color: Green

Eye color: Teal

Physical Status: Adequate

Room 027

Notes: Known to be difficult, fond of biting when irritated. Serum has led him to age regress directly after being injected with the compound. (Episodes currently ranging between two hours and fourteen days.) Has had four different caretakers, all of whom have reported handling severe injuries towards both the patient and themselves.

What the fuck.

What kind of nutcase had Ego chained him to?

Room 027 was on the underground floor, down the corridor, and below the small elevator near the entrance. Isagi pauses, contemplating whether he should visit his new assignment. After all, what’s the worst that could happen?

Footsteps echo down the hall as he quickly makes his way to the newly renovated elevator. The gray walls reflect his distorted image as he enters the cramped space and presses his thumb to the screen in front of him. The elevator beeps momentarily, scanning over his thumbprint before abruptly dropping to the basement floor. 

The doors slowly open, and Isagi is met with the sight of a long, dark hallway. He clutches his bag, looking over his file once more. Cautiously, he enters the hallways, watching as the motion-sensor lights slowly flicker on. Rooms start appearing a few meters down, most having large illuminated windows displaying the insides. Isagi’s steps falter, catching sight of people within the rooms. 

Most had dilated pupils, wild hair adorned by bits of food. He watches as one is dragged into a different room by what Isagi assumes is another caretaker. Most of the “subjects” have blocks or some sort of activity decorated around their room. Isagi catches sight of a familiar number.

Room 027

The Puppeteer

Isagi stops, advancing toward the window next to the door and lightly pressing his fingertips to it. A tall man sits on the white marble floor, surrounded by walls of pure white, reflecting the man's image back to him. The man is clad in a long gray shirt and trousers. He nudges the large blocks littered around the room, large bite marks adorning white foam. Dark hair falls over his eyes as he looks down at the block resting under his hand, reflecting green as fluorescent lights bleed over him. His legs are sprawled out in front of him, mirroring an almost child-like pose. 

As if sensing another presence, he looks up. Isagi doesn’t let himself be deterred. The windows were one-way, so there was no possible way for him to be seen. The man, Itoshi Rin, he recalls, turns his head to stare at the window. Isagi catches a glimpse of large pupils surrounded by bright teal irises set on black backdrops, the whites of his eyes completely consumed. Bangs fall over his face, obscuring his left eye. He blinks his half-lidded eyes, seemingly bored or tired, perhaps both. After a moment, he raises the hand previously resting on the foam block and raises his middle finger at Isagi. 

Isagi’s heart skips a beat in fear, his eyes blown wide. Itoshi wasn’t supposed to be able to see him. He backs away from the window, sprinting down the hall. The lights flicker back on as he viciously clicks the elevator button. His knees tremble as he presses his thumb back onto the black screen in front of him. It displays pixelated images of the beach as it rises back up to the ground floor. Isagi stuffs the file back into his satchel, rushing out the front doors and into the cold winter air of the outside world.

How could Itoshi see him? More importantly, what kind of nightmare had Ego paired him with?

Chapter Text

Steam curls from the paper cup in Isagi’s hand, his name scrawled across the front. His hands slowly thaw from the warm coffee, mediating the winter chill. People frequently pass by him, rushing to start their lives. Isagi quickly downs the hot liquid, scorching his throat in the process, as he approaches the BLUE LOCK building. Unfortunately, they didn’t allow any colored or flavored drinks, which was pretty much complete bullshit but Isagi didn’t get paid 30,000 a month for nothing.

Isagi enters the building, heading towards the back room, where every lockbox is kept. Shrugging off his jacket, he replaces it with a sterile lab coat. He rigorously washes his hands before stuffing a new pair of gloves in his pocket and hanging up his satchel. Isagi takes the hauntingly blue file out of his bag and places it on his clipboard, only now noticing the small “CONFIDENTIAL” stamped on the front.

Isagi heads toward the elevator once again, looking back over the contents of the file absentmindedly. 

“Isagi!” Chigiri calls. “Where are you going? Our room is this way.” 

Isagi freezes midstep, quickly searching for a lie.

“I…um, got reassigned.” He mutters, his head ringing.

“Oh! Ok, cool.” Chigiri ducks back into his room with Bachira. Isagi lets out a breath, grateful Chigiri hadn’t pried more. Light filters through the singular large window near the entrance, shining in Isagi’s eyes as he enters the elevator.

 The fluorescent lights don’t flicker on when he enters the underground floor this time. Other scientists already move through the halls, some accompanied by their subjects. He catches sight of a pink-haired man holding his subject by the neck. The subject's blonde hair was sticking up wildly, some ends tinged with pink.

He approaches Itoshi’s new room with hesitation this time around, peering in the window to catch sight of his sleeping subject.

“Ah, are you the new caretaker Ego was talking about?” The guy across the hall asks him, his purple hair sticking up in a triangular figure. A silver badge is clipped to his lab coat, much different from Isagi’s gold one, reading Karasu Tabito . Isagi nods, confused when Karasu chuckles.

“Yeah, be careful with that one. He’s infamous for driving out caretakers pretty frequently.” Isagi nods again, eyeing the locked door.

“How am I meant to get in?” He nervously asks.

“There should be a key inside the file.” Karasu then unlocks his own door and disappears inside, leaving Isagi alone. Isagi fumbles with the papers inside the file for a bit before finally fishing out a small silver key and slotting it in the door lock.

The door makes a hissing noise as it opens, slowly swinging inward. A small rectangle slides out of the file as Isagi sets his clipboard down on the small white desk near the bed. He picks it up, examining the red button set in the middle. He stashes it away in his pocket, instead taking out the schedule notes.

CARETAKER GUIDE:

• Awaken your patient using the buzzer provided.

• Check vitals using tools stashed beneath their bed.

• Begin performing basic hygienic steps on them.

• Bring the breakfast provided in room 034.

• Take them outside for their daily hour-long walk.

• Feed a 0.03 milligram dose of FLOW serum to the subject.

• WAIT TWO HOURS BEFORE PROCEEDING

• DO NOT LEAVE THEM ALONE FOR THIS TIME

• Begin a verbal conversation with the subject while performing both the mental and physical examination requirements.

• Bring your subject dinner.

• Check vitals

• Perform basic hygienic steps on them.

• Use the 6 milligram dose of melatonin provided to bring the subject to unconsciousness.

SERUM TEST DAYS ARE EVERY OTHER WEDNESDAY

Isagi grimaces. This required a lot more attention than his old assignment, he’d never even dealt with a live subject before. He approaches Itoshi’s sleeping figure with caution, hesitantly pressing the red button in his pocket. 

Itoshi’s body begins to twitch violently, limbs flailing. His eyes snap open, the whites now normal-looking, and pupils less dilated. Itoshi quickly sits up, almost mechanically, and instantly looks at Isagi.

“You.” He snarls before punching Isagi. Isagi yelps as he falls to the ground. Itoshi doesn’t waste a second, pouncing on him immediately. Hands wrap around his throat as he fumbles to bring the black rectangle out of his pocket. Itoshi’s thumbs press into Isagi’s jugular, thighs locked around his waist. His face is impassive, teal eyes half-lidded with boredom as he looks down at Isagi’s choking form. Isagi finally brings the rectangle out of his pocket and harshly presses the red button.

The hands around Isagi’s neck loosen, and Itoshi’s body slumps forward on his. Isagi coughs awkwardly, pushing the man off of him before quickly standing. His neck feels tender as he rubs the bruised skin. Itoshi twitches wildly on the floor, teeth gritted in frustration. Isagi pauses, watching for a moment before pressing the buzzer again.

Itoshi’s body relaxes, and he rolls onto his back to glare at Isagi with a vicious sneer. 

“So you’re the new bastard they sent.” 

Isagi sighs. “Get up, Itoshi.”

“Don’t call me that.” He bites out. Isagi raises an eyebrow. A bit early for first-name basis, but who am I to complain?

“Ok then, Rin, get up.”

“Make me.” Itoshi’s eyes narrow. Isagi presses the buzzer again. This time, Itoshi does not twitch and flail, he just grits his teeth and takes it. They stare at each other for what seems like forever before Isagi sighs and presses the buzzer again. Itoshi does not relax, only slightly uncurling his fists.

“This is ridiculous, just sit on the bed so we can get this over with.” Isagi rolls his eyes. Itoshi glares as he stands to sit begrudgingly on the thin mattress.

Isagi fishes out the different equipment from underneath the bed, the excess of white startling him. He catches his reflection in the far wall, noticing the quickly purpling bruises on his neck. He stiffly drags the desk chair in front of the bed, clipping a monitor to Itoshi’s finger. He notices the dozens of crescent-shaped scars littered across his palms, choosing not to say anything.  scribbles the slightly alarming readings on his note-sheet, avoiding Itoshi’s intense glare.

“Great,” Isagi glances at his sheets once more. “Go ahead and head to the bathroom.”

“No.”

“Oh my- why not?” Isagi sighs exasperatedly. He discreetly brings out the buzzer again, just in case.

“There are mirrors in there.” Itoshi’s voice is monotone, unfeeling.

“These walls are all mirrors!”

“But these are distorted.” His gaze is downcast, not meeting Isagi’s eyes.

“Oh my god, you’re acting like a child!” Isagi stands, setting his clipboard on the bed. “Just go to the bathroom and get this over with.”

Rin stares up at him through unnaturally long eyelashes, his gaze filled with rage. Isagi sighs, abruptly grabbing his collar with both hands and dragging him to the tall white door. Itoshi kicks and screams, trying to break free of Isagi’s iron grip. Isagi nudges the door, waiting for it to open.

It doesn’t move.

Isagi pushes it again, but with more force.

It still doesn’t budge.

Rin hits his shins.

Isagi feels his eyebrow twitch.

“Itoshi! How do you open this door?” He shouts.

“I told you not to call me that!” Itoshi shouts back.

“Agh! Rin, how do you open this door?” Isagi yells, beyond fed up with these antics.

“As if I would tell you, shity lukewarm!”

Isagi fights the urge to sigh again. He jams his hand against the door, watching in confusion as it lights up. A hissing noise is released from the door as it slowly opens. Itoshi yells, dragging his nails down Isagi’s trouser leg. Isagi trudges inside the bathroom, holding Itoshi’s collar in both hands as they make their way to the sink. 

The bathroom was small and cramped, bright white lights shining down on the hard marble. Isagi pauses, watching the door fully close, before letting go of Itoshi. Itoshi stands, hands curling back into fists as Isagi presses the buzzer. He watches as Itoshi’s body locks up, standing stock still, a muscle in his jaw tensing.

“Why won’t you behave?” Isagi asks with a bland voice. He’s met with no response.

Isagi suppresses the urge to sigh. “I’m going to start a bath, and you’re going to clean all this dust and grime off of yourself. Got it?”

No response. Isagi moves to the back of the bathroom, watching the tub fill with water as he moves the knob. The knobs were stiff from not being used, dust collecting in the tub. Isagi rolls his eyes, letting the water wash out the dust before stopping the drain. He searches the bathroom, avoiding Rin’s paralyzed form, hastily opening the cabinets in search of decent soap. He finds a small gray bar hidden under the sink, smelling of synthetic mint. 

He turns, finding Rin’s gaze burning through him.

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me if there’s any better soap, right?” Isagi just shrugs when Rin avoids his gaze. He walks back over to the tub, quickly shutting off the water and setting the soap down on the ledge. Isagi reaches into his pocket, pressing the buzzer again.

Itoshi sighs through his nose, shoulders still tense. Isagi rubs his eyes, cringing over what was to come next

“Undress.”

“What?” Itoshi looks at him like he’s the insane one.

“Did you not hear me? Undress.” Isagi stands with his hands on his hips, rolling his eyes when Itoshi doesn’t move. “Well? Go on!”

“At least turn around!”

“If I turn around, you’ll just try to kill me again!”

“Fuck!” Itoshi turns around instead, hesitantly reaching for the hem of his flimsy gray shirt. He pulls it over his head, and Isagi has to remind himself to suppress his gasp. Itoshi was thin, scarily so. He was sure that if he held a hand on Itoshi’s stomach, he’d be able to feel each of his ribs. Itoshi’s spine protrudes from his thin, pale body, frighteningly blue veins running under his skin. Scars litter his wrists, spreading to his arms and the sides of his torso. Itoshi reaches for his waistband, and Isagi has half the mind and decency to look away. He’s grateful the walls aren’t mirrored in this room.

Hearing a splash of water, he turns back, watching as Itoshi hastily rubs the bar of soap over his body and shifts to stand again.

“Ok, sit back down.” Itoshi freezes. “Do it properly, you didn’t even wash your hair.”

Itoshi glares at Isagi, rubbing the soap vigorously over him. He bathes properly this time, spending an extra five minutes before glaring at Isagi in question again. Isagi sighs.

“Are you kidding me?” Isagi swings open the cabinet once more, bringing out the bottle of standard shampoo. He stalks to the tub, kicking aside Itoshi’s discarded clothing. He sets the bottle down on the ledge, slipping off his lab coat and throwing it on the floor, along with the other clothes. Isagi rolls up the sleeves of his green sweatshirt considerably high before kicking the lab coat further away.

“What are you doing?” Itoshi watches him with narrowed eyes. Isagi doesn’t respond, grabbing Itoshi by the hair and holding his head underneath the water. Muffled yells echo through the water, bubbles coming up as he thrashes. Isagi notices a small gray square embedded in his nape. The bubbles slow, Itoshi’s body starting to go limp, before Isagi finally rips his head back up.

Itoshi coughs violently, water dripping from his nose and mouth. His bottom lashes cling to his skin, no longer fanned out against his cheek but weighed down by the water. Itoshi’s drenched hair is swept back, pieces of fringe falling over his forehead. His mouth falls open, droplets clinging to his lips, his eyes snap open, piercing teal cutting through Isagi.

He looks, as much as Isagi hates to admit it, attractive.

Objectively, of course.

Isagi, himself, isn’t attracted to him…that much. 

He squeezes the shampoo bottle, roughly lathering it over Itoshi’s green hair. Isagi keeps his gaze stubbornly fixed on his head, not letting his eyes stray to what was beneath the water. Isagi runs his hands through coarse, greasy hair, wondering when Itoshi last washed his hair. The man looked like he was on the cusp of death, clearly not taking care of himself properly.

“Hold your breath,” is the only warning Isagi gives before dunking Itoshi's head back under water. He rubs the shampoo out of his hair, watching as Itoshi’s fingers tightly grip the edge of the tub.

He lets go of his head, moving to rinse his hands off at the small sink as Itoshi fights an onslaught of coughing. He walks back towards the tub, picking up his discarded lab coat, making a face when he sees the small water stains on it.

“I trust you know how to dress yourself.” Isagi slips out of the room, pressing his thumb to the closing door. Picking up his clipboard, he looks at Itoshi’s serum notes, growing more and more concerned with each line. 

Highly destructive…cannot be left…alone ..tendency…of drooling…DO NOT…LET…PATIENT…NEAR MIRRORS

What does that mean?

The whole room was practically made of mirrors, how the fuck was Isagi supposed to avoid that?

Banging comes from the bathroom door. Isagi's head jerks up, pressing his hand against the door to let Itoshi out. A very pissed Itoshi walks out and Isagi has to stop the laugh that builds in his throat when he realizes Itoshi bore an uncanny resemblance to a wet cat.

“I have to get breakfast. Can I trust you not to tear this place apart when I get back?” Isagi sets his clipboard on the desk, moving towards the door with his key. Itoshi just glares at him.

Isagi slips out of the room, walking toward the specific room for the scientists near the end of the hall. The hall is dark, the lights flickering as he walks through the path. A table is set up at the end of the room, labeled “subject breakfast”.

A barely suppressed cringe fights its way up Isagi when he sees the bowls of gruel set on plastic trays. He walks to the caretaker's snacks, picking up two protein bars and shoving them in his pocket before taking the tray back to Itoshi’s room.

Isagi sees the same pink-haired man from the morning in the hallway, this time not accompanied by the blonde man. He offers a smile, catching a glimpse of his badge.

Sae Itoshi

What a coincidence. Isagi pauses for a moment before fumbling with his key. Why did a random caretaker have the last name as his test subject? He didn't let himself dwell on it for too long.

Itoshi is stacking blocks when Isagi walks in, lightly tracing the bite marks around the corners. Isagi sets the tray down on the desk, tossing one of the protein bars to Itoshi. It lands next to him with a pathetic sound.

“Well, the breakfast didn't look too appetizing, so I thought you would like this better.” Isagi begins to unwrap his own bar.

Itoshi blinks, long bottom lashes brushing his cheek. He glances at the bar on the floor before nudging it further away.

“Look, man, you’re skinny as a stick. You need to eat something, and this is a much better option than whatever they're feeding you.” Isagi sighs.

Itoshi doesn't respond, glaring harshly at Isagi before knocking over his block tower.

Isagi drags a hand down his face. This was going to be so much harder than he’d thought.

Chapter Text

The chip in Itoshi's neck glistens in the faint sunlight. Isagi tightens his arms around himself, shielding himself from the harsh wind. Isagi's hair blows lightly, his face red from the cold. Isagi pulls at his lab coat, hugging the thin material around him. 

“Can we go inside now?” Isagi's teeth chatter.

“No.” Itoshi lies in the snow in front of Isagi. His arms and legs are spread, water beginning to seep through his clothes. The cold doesn’t seem to bother him as he stares up at the sky, speechless. His metal collar shines from the light reflected off the snow, the thin transparent strip around it glowing blue.

“Itoshi-”

“Rin.” Itoshi immediately corrects. Isagi lets out an exasperated groan.

“Rin, we need to go inside now.”

“We can’t”

Oh my god, he was like a child. Isagi had been trying not to anger him too much, preferring if they both stayed civil. They’ve only known each other for a week, and Isagi knows it isn’t a lot, but Itoshi hasn’t seemed to warm up to him at all. With serum testing day - whatever that was- rapidly approaching, Ego was inevitably going to ask for the information Isagi collected when feeding Itoshi the daily dose of FLOW. And Isagi couldn’t just tell him he’d basically learned nothing new. Hell, Itoshi hadn’t even shown any of the symptoms his file said he would.

“You and I are going to get sick if we stay outside any longer. Besides, your one hour is basically already over.” Isagi taps his foot impatiently as Itoshi slowly starts to stand, his entire back soaked. Isagi gapes at him a little.

“How are you not cold?” Isagi asks. Itoshi doesn’t respond for a few minutes, silence filling the time as they make their way back to his cell.

“I stopped feeling things a long time ago.” Itoshi’s gaze is hard, fixed on the floor tiles.

Isagi fights the urge to call him dramatic.

He opens the door, watching as Itoshi makes a beeline for his bed, preparing for his next step. The sheets beneath him grow damp as he shifts his blank stare to the ceiling. This wasn’t normal behavior. Itoshi usually had more fight in him. It seemed that ever since lying in the snow, he hasn’t been in his right mind.

Isagi’s brows furrow. Could he really feed Itoshi the serum if his mind was out of it? He didn’t know what it did; Itoshi would probably die for all he knew.

Whatever. It was part of the routine, and the serum test day was tomorrow.

“Rin.”

“Don’t.” Itoshi’s voice is hard, even as his face doesn’t change.

“You know you have to do this.” Isagi runs a hand over his face.

“Don’t,” Itoshi repeats.

“Just get up, it’ll make it easier for both of us.”

“Don’t”

“Jesus Christ, you sound like a broken record. At least sit up, I need to take the collar off you.” Isagi says, moving to sit next to him on the bed. Itoshi sits up, looking almost mechanical. 

Isagi lightly brushes hair away from Itoshi’s nape, careful not to touch the gray chip there. He presses his finger to the lock on his collar, watching as it undoes itself and falls on Itoshi’s lap. Isagi stands, walking back over to the desk. He picks up one of the minuscule vials in the second drawer, inserting it into his syringe. The purple liquid sloshes around inside it as he walks back toward the bed.

“Shirt.” Isagi stands in front of Itoshi, who’s now pulling his shirt over his head. Itoshi’s not as skinny as he was when they met, courtesy of Isagi continuously making him eat the scientist’s breakfasts they set up in the break room. However, he’s still scrawny as hell.

Picking up his alcohol-soaked cotton swab, Isagi glides it over the underside of Itoshi’s elbow. Carefully, he sets the needle on Itoshi’s arm, pressing softly until it pierces skin. He pushes on the plunger, watching the purple liquid drain from the syringe and into Itoshi’s system.

Putting the dry side of the cotton swap on the needle, Isagi pulls it out. A thin stream of blood decorates Itoshi’s pale arm, flowing into his hand. Isagi quickly cleans that up as well. He sets his equipment down on the desk, picking up his clipboard and a pen instead.

“Okay, how do you feel?” Isagi looks up in anticipation. 

“The same as always,” Itoshi leans back on his hands, shifting the bedsheets and rolling his eyes. “You’re so lukewarm.”

Isagi sighs, slumping down on the desk chair. He slides open the first drawer, catching sight of a sliver hand mirror. His mind drifts back to the earlier warning scribbled on the notes and how Itoshi had reacted to the mirrors in the bathroom. Now, usually, Isagi wouldn’t want to put another person's well-being on the line. But he was desperate for results, not wanting to let down Ego.

“Hey, Rin,” Isagi starts. He glances at Rin, whose gaze is on the floor, not paying him any mind. Isagi takes the mirror out of the drawer and walks toward the bed. Itoshi looks up at him as Isagi stands in front of him, clutching the mirror in his hand.

“What are you doing?” Itoshi’s eyes narrow. Isagi raises the mirror, shoving it in Itoshi’s face.

“What? Haven’t those lukewarm NPCs told you not to do that?” Itoshi shouts, immediately turning his head and bringing his hands up in front of his face. 

“Look into the mirror, Rin! What are you so afraid of?” Isagi brings the mirror closer.

“No! Stop!”

“Do it, Rin.”

“I don’t want to!” Itoshi backs away, stubbornly keeping his eyes away from the mirror. Desperation creeps into his voice.

“Rin, look at yourself.” Isagi grits his teeth, moving the mirror even closer.

“No, stop, I can’t…” Itoshi makes a broken expression, his eyes slowly coming up to glance at the mirror. “I can’t…”

Itoshi’s eyes alternate between looking at Isagi with distress and looking at his reflection for a moment.  

“No! Stop!” Itoshi yells. He scrambles away from his reflection, falling over the opposite side of the bed, his collar dropping to the floor. Isagi pauses before looking for him, raising the mirror to stare at his own reflection. It was perfectly normal, nothing had altered in the glass.

Isagi walks around the bed, panicking as he takes in the sight of Itoshi. Itoshi is choking, bile spilling from his mouth onto the cold ground.

“Rin?” Isagi calls out to him, concerned. He moves to crouch next to Itoshi, patting his back out of sympathy. Isagi’s mind is moving quickly, trying to find any possible way to help Itoshi as he violently chokes. 

Something foreign comes out of Itoshi’s mouth, and before Isagi knows it, he’s vomiting. Horrible lilac goo spreads across the floor, gushing out of Itoshi’s mouth. Isagi gags, rubbing his back softly. Silent tears track down Itoshi’s cheeks, mixing with his vomit. 

Finally, after what seems like forever, Itoshi stops choking and gagging, falling back on his hands, spit slathered across his chin. Large breaths come in and out of his lungs, borderline hyperventilating. Itoshi’s eyes are blown wide, dilated pupils staring at the mess on his chest. The whites of his eyes are plagued by black, thin rings of bright teal being the only thing visible.

His face wet, Isagi watches as Itoshi reaches underneath the bed, pulling out a large owl plush. He hugs it to his chest, leaning against the bed and rocking.

Isagi hesitantly reaches out a hand, hovering over Itoshi’s shoulder.

“Don’t.” Itoshi warns. Isagi’s hand falls. “We won’t speak of this ever again.”

“What was that, Rin?” Isagi asks, referring to his episode.

“Don’t try to understand me,” Itoshi glances at him from the corner of his eye. “You won’t stay here long enough to.”

Isagi’s brows furrow, and he chooses not to comment on the morbid omen. They stay there for a bit, and Isagi’s thoughts start to spiral. What was so powerful about the serum that could make Itoshi so afraid of mirrors? Isagi intently watches Itoshi from his peripheral vision. The owl plush in his hands is gripped tightly to his chest, as if letting it go would pain him. Isagi desperately wanted to know where that stuffed animal came from, but now was not the best time to bring that up. Itoshi would probably try to bite his head off.

Isagi stands, moving to run a bath. He stares into the rippling water, absorbing the previous events. He slips off his lab coat and rolls up the sleeves of his white button-up. 

“Rin,” He mutters, standing in the doorway of the bathroom. He raises his hand, waving for Itoshi to come over. Itoshi looks at him with a wide, unfocused gaze, standing slowly and walking over. Itoshi almost steps inside the bathtub fully clothed, still holding his plush. 

“Rin, stop.” Isagi puts a hand on Itoshi’s chest, taking the owl from him and setting it down on the sink counter. He tugs at the drawstring on Itoshi’s pants, hoping he got the hint. Isagi looks away as he undresses, and Itoshi curls his knees to his chest in the bathtub. A string of drool escapes Itoshi’s mouth, and Isagi quickly leaves to get a cloth.

“Rin, look at me.” Itoshi slightly turns his head, eyes half lidded. Isagi takes Itoshi’s jaw in his hand, wiping at his face with the now-wet cloth. 

They finish with the bath rather quickly, Itoshi making a beeline for his bed and curling into a fetal position with his owl. Neither of them says anything.

Itoshi doesn’t speak for the rest of the day, just clutching his owl. Isagi doesn’t mind, carrying on with the rest of their schedule as if nothing had happened.

“Rin,” Isagi pauses at the door. Itoshi doesn’t respond. Isagi doesn’t want to leave Itoshi alone in this state. 

“I’m heading out now, do you want anything else?” He whispers. His smile is met with a rough glare, drool still flowing down Itoshi’s chin.

“Right,” Isagi mutters, walking out and locking the door behind him. The walk outside the facility is cold and unnerving, especially as he catches sight of Itoshi Sae leaning against the wall. Clouds billow from his mouth as he exhales the cold winter air. 

Isagi tries not to stare at him, even as he feels two eyes burning the back of his head when he walks by. 

Chapter Text

“Isagi!” 

Isagi starts at the sound of his name, still unerved from his (not really an interaction?) interaction with Itoshi Sae, when he sees Karasu wave him over from the other end of the street. He waves back, jogging over to him.

Karasu stands with two other guys, whom he assumes are their colleagues. The one on his left has fluffy brown hair, fading to pink on the ends, and the other…is Reo? Isagi’s eyes widen at the same time as Reo’s, the realization hitting them both. Reo looks away, sipping from his cup.

“Have you been here before?” Karasu jerks a thumb at the building behind them. A small bar with only three customers inside. Isagi shakes his head. “Well, one of my good friends owns the place. Ness, Reo, and I all go here after work.”

Isagi nods along, moving to head inside the bar. Karasu shouts something about his tab, but it goes over Isagi’s head. He’s already too focused on the fact that Reo, most likely, worked on the same project as them. 

A man with white hair with a green streak works behind the bar, cleaning a large glass. He quickly glances at Isagi before setting the glass down, the sleeves of his black dress shirt hiked up. Isagi leans against the counter, meeting the bartender’s green eyes. He mutters his order, something not too strong but still has enough alcohol to take his mind off work.

Isagi catches a purple movement from the corner of his eye. He glances to the side, watching Reo gulp down the rest of his drink. Isagi feels a wave of anxiety wash over him as he meets Reo’s gaze. 

“Is this why you never told us which room you went to?” Isagi mutters, only half-questioning. Reo solemnly nods.

“When did you join?” Reo keeps his eyes trained on the counter even when he speaks.

“Last week. Monday.” Isagi adds when he realizes he spoke a little vaguely. Reo’s eyebrows furrow, waiting until after the bartender puts Isagi’s drink down and walks away. Reo suddenly turns, a questioning look in his eyes.

“Who’s your subject?”

Isagi quickly downs his glass, feeling the alcohol leave fire in his throat. “Itoshi.”

Reo tilts his head. “Sae is with Shidou, though.”

“Ah, no. I’m assigned to Itoshi Rin.”

Reo scoffs at that, a soft smirk on his face. Isagi resists the urge to side-eye him, slightly offended by Reo’s reaction. 

“How about you?” Isagi changes the subject. Reo pauses at this, something shifting in his eyes. His smirk morphs into a smile filled with sadness.

“This is my second year being put in charge of Nagi Seishiro.” His smile disappears entirely. “It’s a bit cruel, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean?” Isagi stops fiddling with his glass and turns to look at Reo.

“Have you witnessed the Testing days yet?” Reo asks, scoffing when Isagi shakes his head. “You’ll understand what I mean once you see one.”

Isagi doesn’t pay much attention to what happens next, trying to decipher Reo’s words. 

* * *

The quickly reddening scars on Isagi’s arms burn as he watches Rin’s unconscious body be moved behind the one-way glass wall and into the other room. Ego stands next to him, his glasses reflecting bright fluorescent lights.

“Your report?” Ego brings out a hand, dutifully ignoring the four other scientists in the room. Isagi hastily hands over his scarily thin file. The past week had been painfully uneventful; the only thing worth noting down was the episode that was apparently normal. Isagi glances past the window, watching as Rin is strapped onto a table and hooked up to a machine.

Ego nods, moving towards the table in front of the window. Isagi’s eyes are wide with anticipation, his hands curled into the pockets of his lab coat. His nails cut into his skin, pain shooting up his arm as Ego mutters into his walkie-talkie.

“Begin the exam.” 

Isagi watches two people in white hazmat suits man the machine. Needles are inserted into Rin’s arms, his head lolling to the side. Isagi’s heart pounds with excitement. Ego observed the procedure with a bored look on his face, almost as if he were asleep. His legs are crossed, leaning back against the chair he’s slumped on. 

One of the people beyond the window flicks a switch, and purple liquid slowly flows through the tube hooked up to Rin. Isagi’s heart feels as though it’s going to burst from his ribs. Rin’s body abruptly jerks, his fingers twisting in odd ways before violently convulsing. Isagi thinks his pulse has suddenly stopped, fear now entangling in his heart. He watches Rin’s eyes snap open, the teal now consumed by black, a line of drool sliding down his face. 

Ego tilts his head, narrowing his eyes at the show. “Increase the dose of T3.”

Isagi catches Anri's side-eye towards Ego before she repeats the command into her walkie-talkie.

One of the white hazmat suits flips a different switch, and the purple liquid now turns green. Rin stops moving, and Isagi’s heart skips a beat in fear. The heart monitor previously filling the quiet room flatlines for a moment, silence engulfing the previously repeated beeping. Isagi glances around, taking in the very unshocked expressions of all the scientists. He sees Anri drop her head into her hands and resists the urge to scream. 

What just happened? Had Rin actually just died? Isagi’s heart drops to his feet, his stomach suddenly feeling too heavy.

“Well, it see-” Ego’s monologue is cut off by rapid beeping from the heart monitor. Isagi fights the urge to gasp out loud. They all turn, transfixed by the ungodly state of Itoshi Rin. He looks like a mess, hair ragged, the lower half of his face spit-soaked. 

He rips the tubes from his arms, standing up off the table with fervor. None of the scientists can hear anything, only seeing how Rin breathes heavily, borderline heaving. Isagi clutches the thin fabric inside his pockets, seeing Ego pump his fist into the air as Rin gets knocked out again by one of the hazmat suits.

“What did I tell you?” He shouts, throwing his hands into the air and storming out of the room with a manic smile spread on his face. Anri bites her lip, rushing out after him.

* * *

Isagi stands at Rin’s bedside, arms tight around himself as he rests, exhausted, on the desk chair. He was still reeling from what had happened in the testing room. He can’t get the image of Rin’s lifeless body out of his head, as if it were tattooed on the backs of his eyelids. It haunted him, the idea of Rin, who had so much resistance in him, dead on that cold table.

Rin’s eyes snap open, no trace of the earlier serum left in his blood. Isagi jolts in his place, flashing an awkward smile. Rin glares at him, rolling over with tired eyes. Isagi opens his mouth only to close it once more when he starts to doubt his words.

“Rin?” His voice is soft and scratchy with unuse. Rin doesn’t say anything, not even bothering to move. Isagi scratches his head, hoping Rin hadn’t fallen back asleep.

“What does the serum feel like?” It sounds more vulnerable than he’d hoped. His question floats in the air for a moment until Rin shifts onto his back, not meeting Isagi’s eyes.

He doesn’t speak, eyes unfocused as he stares at the ceiling. His body is limp, unmoving, even as his chest moves with shallow breaths. 

“Fine, be like that. You’re going to have to comply soon, you know?” His statement is left hanging by a noose, slowly dying into the silence of the room.

Isagi calls out Rin’s name once more, still met with no response. Rin’s chest slows to a stop, his breaths silencing. Isagi stands, moving toward him with urgency.

“Rin?” Isagi places his finger under Rin’s nose, panicking when his skin isn’t met with blowing air. His hands fumble around Rin’s neck, searching for his fading pulse. He curses, running to the bathroom for a glass of freezing tap water. Rin doesn’t respond when he pours the water over his head, the sheets beneath him now drenched. White drool slips from his lips, his bright eyes now heavy-lidded.

Isagi’s eyes are impossibly wide, mouth falling open in fear. Not sure what else to do, he begins chest compressions. Isagi starts to count, the repetitiveness keeping him from going hysterical. Hesitantly, he blocks Rin’s nose and blows air into his mouth.

“Fuck! Wake up, Rin, or else I’ll…I’ll kill you myself!” He shouts. Isagi continues CPR, taking a step back when he hears Rin cough. His body shoots up, wheezing air through his blocked-off lungs. Isagi grabs a rag from the bathroom, shoving it against Rin’s face, wiping the drool off his sweat-damp face.

Rin’s coughing stops, his breath slowing back down to normal.

“What the fuck was that?” Isagi’s hands tremble. Rin doesn’t say anything at first, just staring up at the man with his eyes wide. Rin stares into Isagi’s eyes for a moment too long. His gaze falters for a moment, falling to Isagi’s collarbones before he turns away completely. 

“Fuck off, it’s just the aftermath of the serum. If you’d actually bothered to question Ego, maybe you’d realize that.” 

Isagi sighs and drops his head into his hands.

Chapter Text

Rin sits in the dark, somewhere in the field between the land of the woken and asleep. His bed had grown suffocating, the sheets twisting around his limbs uncomfortably. He hesitantly crawls beneath the bed, into the dark cove he’d made into his own within two months of arriving in this horrid place. 

Several protein bars were snuck into the wooden framing, a result of the crippling anguish rocking Rin’s body to sleep. It was hard to eat these days after being in the habit of being denied it for so long. The hour he spent outside was the highlight– if you could even call it that– of his day. Sometimes, he caught himself searching for that shitty brother of his before catching himself.

He was the reason Rin was here. Although Rin had never found out whether Sae had helped his parents in banishing him to this terrible asylum, he was sure his parents had gotten the idea from Sae. There wasn’t any possibility Rin hadn’t thought of in the excruciating three years he’d been stuck here, and all of them included Sae taking some part in his imprisonment.

The people here referred to the people locked in these white cages as patients. But they were treated as prisoners, often given even worse conditions than death. It sickened Rin, but he made it a living hell for them as wel, refusing to comply with Ego’s shitty rules. 

Rin turns, facing the dirty owl plush lying pathetically next to him. It was the only thing he’d been able to sneak back from the NPCs that took him here, preaching some bullshit about how Ego’s serum would perfect him.

Rin had never seen Ego as a human, made of the same flesh and blood as him; he viewed the man as a sort of monster. One that you’d see typically in the Eldritch horror games Rin played before he was forced here. 

He often exaggerated specific features of people he saw multiple times, so as to make them at least more memorable than just an NPC. That's why Rin immediately turns away from the large opening of his hiding place once he spots that stupid blue ahoge coming in through the door. Slowly, he rolls on his side, letting Isagi beg for him to come out for a minute before finally sliding out from beneath the bed.

Isagi especially sickens him; his unusual kindness was useless, it wouldn’t get Rin to trust him. Not after the tricks he’s sat through. There’s something alive in those horrible blue eyes of his, something that terrifies the pessimist in Rin. Isagi has not restricted his rights in the two weeks they’ve known each other, but his illusion won’t work on Rin. No. He knows how people gain trust just to break it again, and he refuses to fall for the mirage set in front of him.

He shuffles closer, sitting down on the edge of the cold sheets. It was always cold here, no matter the time; they kept the atmosphere icy. Isagi sits down next to him, his clipboard and two foreign paper cups clutched in his hand. He turns, giving Rin a smile, and Rin doesn’t spend too much time trying to decipher the rush of heat in his face, chalking it up to hate. 

“I brought you coffee!” He exclaims, his face falling for a second when Rin glares at him. Putting the clipboard to the side, he opens the lids of both cups. “You seem like the type of person to drink black coffee religiously.”

Isagi was right, or he would’ve been three years ago, but Rin would rather die than admit that. Isagi sets the lighter liquid on the desk, holding the other cup out for Rin to take. His eyes narrow when he sees the slight tremor in Rin’s fingers, taking his hand in his own and curling it around the cup. Rin feels his throat close when their hands stay there for too long. He makes the mistake of looking up, finding Isagi’s eyes already on him, warm and forgiving.

Rin didn’t deserve that. He hated the act Isagi put up to pretend as if he thought Rin was still human

He roughly steals the cup, the liquid inside sloshing around the edges. Isagi seems a bit surprised, his face fully falling as he sighs coldly. He bends down to get his tools, and Rin takes the extra time to drag a hand across his face. What had gotten into him today? The heat in his face doesn’t go away as Isagi feels around his neck for a pulse, only intensifying to a blistering scorch across his body.

After clipping that rectangle to Rin’s finger, Isagi abruptly turns over his hand. He runs his fingers across the marred skin of Rin’s wrist, examining thoroughly. Rin doesn’t care whether or not he can see the fresh marks from last night, when he finally utilized the chipped tile on the bathroom counter, far from fearing the consequences.

Isagi drops his hand, slipping the rectangle off his finger and scribbling something down on his clipboard. Rin didn’t offer him an explanation, didn’t describe the dangerous boredom that plagued him. Isagi mutters something about getting breakfast, and Rin almost tells him to stay.

Almost.

Because Rin would rather die violently than tell Isagi he felt a disgusting sense of warmth around him. He would rather eat his own liver than tell the other man his illusion of safety was working. His last few caretakers had not bothered even trying to pretend as if they cared about him, opening up a path for Isagi to worm his way into Rin's trust through mediocre acts of kindness. But Rin would not let him, knowing too well that he would leave just as the rest had.

As Isagi closes the door behind him, Rin has to remind himself to keep his gaze trained on the floor. The distorted mirrors on the wall despised him, showing nothing but a reflection of his brother. It pained him to see his brother in himself and be reminded of the horrid betrayal he was dealt out of the vast deck of tragic cards.

Rin takes a sip from the quickly cooling cup in his hand, angling his body away from the window. The coffee was bitter and dark on his tongue, snapping his mood into something even more sour. It burned his throat, his insides feeling hot. 

Technically, this was punishable by electrocution. No drinks aside from water– and even that was distributed scarcely– were allowed near the prisoners. 

 The door clicks open, a sandwich and salad resting in the tray Isagi held.

He sets it on the desk, moving awake to write on the papers in his clipboard. Rin sighs a bit, setting the coffee down as well. He sits lightly in the desk chair, careful not to disturb any of the new bruises he’d etched into his body last night. The sandwich is lukewarm, the meat slightly overdone, and the salad is wet.

But it’s better than nothing.

He sits for a couple of minutes, eating quietly as the sound of pen scratching paper fills the air. Rin’s posture slumps, boredom seeping into his bones like water into soil. He turns to look at Isagi, who stands with his back to Rin, head lowered. Isagi was a head shorter than Rin but much broader, more filled out in places where Rin was nothing but bones. Rin lets his eyes rake over Isagi before he turns back, his head lolling backward. The boredom was more prominent now, eating at his brain. This couldn’t be his reality.

Fuck, he can’t do this.

He lifts the steel tray and chucks it at Isagi’s dumb ahoge. A clattering noise cries out as the tray falls to the floor, and Isagi shouts out, clutching his head. He turns back, pressing the red button hidden in his pocket, and Rin turns rigid as electricity shoots through his veins.

***

Rin often finds it hard to feel real, to feel alive. It eats at his consciousness, his sense of time blurring until he couldn’t tell what he had dreamt and what had truly happened. Reality more often than not just felt like a bad dream happening somewhere far away, leading to the destructive boredom that made Rin scar himself. It ruined his body, but it helped tell his mind the difference between what was and wasn’t real.

A cold wind ruffles his hair, and Isagi shivers next to him. Rin glances at him through the corner of his eye, watching as Isagi hugs his winter coat tighter. The bench beneath would be cold, the steel freezing from the winter weather, if Rin’s receptors hadn’t been desensitized due to the freezing temperatures inside the prison. 

“How are you never cold?” Isagi mutters through clenched teeth. Rin just shrugs, leaning back. Speaking required effort, energy that he didn’t bother wasting on someone who would be gone within the next week. He’d only spoken Isagi’s full name once, in the dead of night, where no one would be able to hear him. It had been disgusting, leaving a bad taste on his tongue and definitely not enjoyable at all.

Yes, definitely. He had hated it so much that he hadn’t bothered to refer to Isagi at all this past week.

The sun isn’t out, and clouds are stopping the light from ever reaching the ground. His eyes wander around the small courtyard, not having been here in a while. His last caretaker, whose name he did not bother learning, had restricted his time outside as if he were some animal. 

Light flurries of snow began to fall from the sky, and Rin caught Isagi pulling the hood of his jacket up from the corner of his eye. It was quiet outside, and Rin subconsciously searched for a head of pink hair. His fists clench, and he grits his teeth as he catches himself. 

A light touch runs through his hair. Heat rushes to his face as he turns to see Isagi pushing Rin’s bangs back. Rin forces a neutral expression as he raises an eyebrow at Isagi, who shrugs in response, 

“There was snow in your hair.”

Disgusting. The heat spreading throughout his entire body was sickening, full of hate.

Yes. Because Rin hated Isagi, despised even. 

Rin grunts, turning back, and Isagi stands, holding a hand out and motioning for Rin to follow. Rin contemplates taking it just to run his nails down the skin of his palm. But he just sighs and stands, smacking Isagi’s hand away and walking a bit ahead. He faintly catches Isagi’s face fall into something resembling annoyance.

Electricity suddenly shoots under Rin’s skin as he’s paralyzed once again.

Chapter Text

Footsteps echo through the hall as Isagi makes his way down the empty hall. Many of the scientists had not yet arrived and he took the opportunity to pay Ego a much subdued visit. 

Rin had been acting unusually– more unusual than normal– lately. His cold eyes lingered on Isagi’s face more, as if he was taking him apart and trying to memorize his weaknesses. As much as it terrified Isagi– given Rin’s track record with his caretakers– it was intriguing. Rin’s face turned red, probably with anger, whenever he caught sight of the other boy.

Ego’s door is cracked when he arrives in the hallway next to it. A rare occurrence as he took his privacy weirdly seriously. Isagi pauses, debating whether or not to listen to whatever conversation was happening. A loud crash sounds inside and he inches closer to the door. 

“Fuck! Noa, you had one job!” Ego shouts. Isagi hears a staticky deep voice reply to him, perhaps coming from a device.

“Kaiser is fucking important to this project, and you let him get away?” Ego is loud, so much so that Isagi hears the man opposite him tell him to calm down.

“I had no part in this! Ness…” The other man’s voice becomes too strained for Isagi to pick up.  “They ruined…low security…your fault!”

“My fault?” Ego screams. “I wasn’t even fucking there!”

“Neither was I!”

“But you’re in charge of that wing, asshole!” 

“Get it together! There are still other developments being made! Kaiser is valuable, but we have other subjects.”

A loud sigh is heard from Ego. “I’m sending a new pair next week, they’re probably the closest we’ve gotten so far. Don’t fuck this up too.”

 “Whatever.” The other man mutters.

The line dies, and Isagi has the mind to carefully step back from the door. A minute or two goes by before he hesitantly knocks on the door. Pushing the door a little wider, he sees Ego’s head snap up, his face suddenly neutral again. He stands up, pulling away from his desk chair.

“Ah, Isagi. What brings you here?” He approaches Isagi, coaxing him into the hallway little by little. Isagi glances back into the room, slightly startled by the sight of many devices littering the floor. Glass was shattered, scattering throughout the room, and Isagi has to consciously avoid it as Ego all but shoves him out of the room.

“I had a question regarding the subjects.” Isagi’s heart jumps into his throat, suddenly nervous. “I’ve noticed the mental state of many of the subjects, including my- including 091011, and it concerns me a bit. Are you sure the patients are being treated humanely?”

Ego doesn’t say anything for a moment, just staring at him blankly. Isagi feels cold sweat slide down his nape as he waits for a response. The tension around them is palpable as neither breaks eye contact. Finally, Ego sighs and rests a hand on Isagi’s shoulder.

“Of course they’re not being treated humanely.” Isagi fights the urge to recoil. “I know you haven’t ever worked with human subjects before, so I won’t reprimand you for your questioning, but these people chose to be here. Either them or someone else has signed them up for this experiment. It does not matter whether we treat them humanely or not because we need to get results, not public favor. Our end goal is worth more than any one person whining because they can’t handle basic pain.”

Ego’s eyes are empty as he speaks, his voice never stuttering. Isagi jerkily nods, plastering a shaky smile on his face.

“Oh, yes, the question sounded stupid in my head, too! I just had to confirm.”

Ego nods, dropping his hand. “I’ve known you since you were seventeen. Have I ever led you wrong? “

Isagi shakes his head in fear of the consequences of nodding. Ego nods once again before ushering him away. Isagi trips a little before rushing away.

What was Ego thinking? Isagi glances back as he rounds the corner. How could he be so blind to Ego’s morals? He didn’t care whether or not the subjects were being treated right; he just wanted results!

Someone bumps into his shoulder as he speedwalks back to the room. Slightly startles, he turns back and offers a quick apology, watching as Itoshi Sae stares at his badge. Cold teal eyes come up to look at him harshly before walking away, not even a “sorry” uttered. Isagi scoffs, turning away.

The first thing he notices upon entering the room is the pungent stench of blood. Sirens blare in Isagi’s head as he scrutinizes the room, no trace of Rin to be found. He searches the room frantically, almost tearing down the bathroom door in his haste.

There he finds Rin, hunched over the toilet, with blood dripping from both his nose and mouth. Tears stream from his eyes, falling to mix in with his blood, turning it a diluted color. He looks terrible, lower lashes plastered to his skin, his hair sweaty and falling in his face, but Isagi can’t find it in him to be repulsed.

Rin finally notices his intrusion. “Get out.” He snarls.

Isagi shakes his head.

A choking noise overtakes the room as Rin turns and hurls a mix of what seems like bile and blood into the toilet. More tears are shed, coughing, spraying more bile everywhere.

It’s a horrid sight, really, and Ego’s words are brought back to Isagi.

Of course they’re not being treated humanely…our goal is worth more than any one person whining because they can’t take basic pain.

This was not basic pain. This was terribly painful to watch– and probably even more to experience– and Isagi imagined it had harsh effects on the body. For a second, he’s just frozen, watching as Rin struggles to force air through his lungs, a mix of fear and pity plaguing him.

Then he moves, a slight trip forward at first, before he’s walking with purpose. He crouches down to Rin’s level, his hands trembling slightly as he pushes them out. Rin slightly turns his head, staring at Isagi with wide, fearful eyes, and something in Isagi’s heart shatters. 

Fingers shaking, he puts a hand under Rin’s bangs, pushing them up and out of the way. A flicker of surprise flashes in his head before he’s overtaken by another wave of blood coming out of his system. This time, he doesn’t just cough, a full sob pushing itself out of his body as he closes his eyes, tears falling harshly onto the toilet seat.

Isagi doesn’t know how to combat the vulnerable state Rin is in. He had never been trained in this, completely lost without any instructions. So he does the only logical thing in his head.

He brings Rin’s head closer to his chest, not caring if he gets blood on his uniform. A moment or two goes by before arms wind around his torso, almost painfully tight. Loud sobs wrack Rin’s body as he smears blood and tears on both him and Isagi. 

Isagi sighs deeply through his nose, letting one of his hands rest on Rin’s cheek, softly stroking his thumb in a soothing manner. He doesn’t miss the way Rin’s hands claw his back at the gesture. His other hand subconsciously finds its way to Rin’s neck, feeling for a pulse.

“Why do you do this?” Rin’s voice cracks at the end. “Why would you treat me like a human, like I’m something that can be saved. You’re so cruel, so, so cruel. Feeding me false hope is worse than any torture those monsters subject me to. Why are you so cruel?”

Rin hiccups, clearly forcing the words through his tear-driven state. Isagi imagines it would be painful to talk after the pound of blood he just threw up, his throat probably lit on fire. The corners of Isagi’s mouth quiver in a frown. Ego’s words were throwing themselves across his head. “...whining because they can’t take basic pain.”

“I don’t know.” Isagi can’t force himself to speak louder than a whisper. His eyes start to water as he presses Rin’s face closer to him.

“I don’t know,” he repeats, burying his nose in sweat-damp hair.

Chapter Text

The third testing day went like every other one before it. Isagi had come to expect the few moments in between where Rin’s body lost all its fight. It was still hard to see, but not surprising after three fake deaths had already occurred. Although Isagi had noticed his age regression episodes had become worse. Symptoms like throwing up, going nonverbal, rocking, and needing his stuffed owl became tenfold worse. 

So when Rin was carted off back into his room, Isagi was not surprised at the result paper Ego handed him. But as he turns to leave, Ego stops him with a hand on his shoulder. Isagi hates the man, ever since their talk a few days ago, he can’t look at him the same way. He wishes to slice open his head and examine his brain, pulling it apart piece by piece.

“Isagi, I don’t know how, but you have managed to get closer than anyone else in perfecting the subjects.” Ego hands him a small piece of folded paper. “I’ve decided to move both of you to a different laboratory. A colleague of mine runs one in the next city over, and I believe that it is crucial to the next step in this project. It will be a long trip, and you will be required to travel along with subject 091011. But we can get a different specialist if you wish to stay in this city.”

Isagi stiffens, not sure what to say. He glances at Ego’s grimy hand, fighting the face of disgust that rises inside him. Ego senses his discomfort, slightly tensing before letting go of his shoulder.

“Just be sure to make your decision by tomorrow because we will be sending both of you by tomorrow afternoon. This is a very urgent matter and needs to be tended to immediately.” 

Anri quickly walks out of the testing room, shutting the door lightly. She comes forward and whispers something into Ego’s ear. His eyes widen, excusing himself before walking in the opposite direction, Anri trailing behind him.

Isagi looks down at his hands, unfolding the small square handed to him. Scribbles were strewn across the front, a small water stain discoloring the corner of the page. He turns, moving the paper closer to his face as he begins to walk back to the room.

There’s not a lot of writing, just a few lines across the top.

The facility you are being sent to is not heavily populated. There is not many staff within the laboratory, so it is crucial you keep close to your subject. It is very important that your subject is not able to escape. The journey is around two days by road travel, and there will be a short stop in one of the bunkers we own.

Isagi pauses outside Rin’s room for a second, peering into the one-way window. Rin’s head hangs forward, spine tense as he sits cross-legged on the floor. He’s moving, softly rocking side to side. Isagi thinks for a second, his brows furrowing.

Rin had been different lately, and no matter how much he tried to hide his behavior under nonchalance, Isagi could tell. Since the…blood incident, Rin doesn’t look at him the same. In fact, Rin doesn’t look at him at all, not even picking fights as much. It frightened Isagi how someone so violent could become docile so quickly. There was still underlying hatred, and Isagi could tell by the way Rin turned a deep shade of red anytime he was around the man. And though it pained Isagi to see that he still felt uncomfortable around him, he supposes it’s normal for someone who’s gone through as much as Rin has.

Rin’s head snaps up, raising an eyebrow at Isagi through the window. Isagi sighs, a soft smile dancing on his lips as he pushes the door open.

“How could you see me?” He asks.

“You have a noticeable presence,” Rin stops rocking, now sitting stock still. “Like a Hippo.”

Isagi’s eyes widen, hands frozen in the air as he reaches for his clipboard. Casting a quick side glance at Rin, he makes a face.

“Of course you’d compare me to a Hippo.” Isagi sighs under his breath, patting the space on the bed next to him. Rin reluctantly stands, moving towards him. He perches on the sheets, legs pulled neatly under him and eyes downcast. His mouth opens as if he’s about to say something but falls quiet at the last second.

“Mm.” Then, “You’d look nice with your eyes carved out and displayed.”

Isagi’s pen hovers over his paper for a moment, not sure how to react.

“And how did you come to that conclusion?” He schools a neutral expression on his features.

Rin shrugs. “I just thought. Maybe if you didn’t have such half-baked brain cells, you’d be able to do that too.” 

Isagi ignores the insult, looking at him through the corner of his eye. “Do you spend a lot of time looking at my eyes?”

Isagi doesn’t miss the way Rin stiffens, his face a deep shade of red. His nose scrunches a little, and he turns away.

“Fuck off,” Rin’s hands curl into fists.

Isagi brings a small blue tray closer to him, lifting the small injection carefully as he chuckles. 

“I’m just kidding, don’t worry.”

“You’re so fucking unproffesional!”

“Eh, you don’t mind.” Isagi motions for Rin’s arm, a grin tilting his mouth upward. Wetting the inside of Rin’s elbow, he hesitates. He didn’t want to leave Rin alone in the process of moving, knowing he most likely would never see him again if he refused to move alongside him. Ego would send him back to concocting the serums on the ground floor, and he would move back to his peaceful, old life.

But he didn’t want that.

He didn’t want to never see Rin again, not after getting close enough to joke around with him. Not after seeing him so vulnerable. He wanted to stay with him and destroy every one of his tormentors. Isagi decided he would prove Rin wrong; he decided to stay with him.

Isagi pulls back, setting the injection back down before it even brushes Rin’s skin. 

“They’re moving us tomorrow,” he says, waiting for Rin’s reaction. Rin just glances over.

“Us?”

“Yeah.”

“Mm.” Rin seems to ponder this for a moment.

“Why don't you seem surprised?”

“This is the fifth time I’ve been moved to a different facility,” Rin rolls his eyes. “What’s more surprising is the fact that you’re coming with me.”

Isagi fights the urge to gape at him, swallowing harshly instead. “You’re such a delinquent!”

“Oh, go fuck yourself,” Rin grumbles, no real bite behind his words.

Isagi falls back onto the bed, laughter spilling from his chest. He turns to look at Rin, who just blushes profusely and turns away.

Oh well.

Neither of them brings up the very full, very unused syringe lounging on the bed, or how it hadn’t been used for a couple of days now.