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It always goes that way:
At some point, the balance of his happiness tilts too heavily on the wrong side, and Nagi knows something terrible will happen. Sooner, or later—it just will.
So he’s not surprised when he hurries back to Flower Laundry after a panicked call from Sonia and finds the store completely flooded. His laundry machines’ warning lights are flickering red in the penumbra, and the water comes up to his knees. It was to be expected, considering how smoothly the evening had been going so far. There was no way for Nagi to turn down a date without upsetting Ryui, so he braced himself for the consequences. Had he not brought the most massive bouquet of red roses that could fit inside his arms, he’s sure that things would haven been even worse than a simple flood.
After taking a deep breath, he says: “I’m sorry for ruining our date, Ryui. You can go back to the dorms, I’ll take care of this with Sonia.”
The robot is in a corner of the store, in the middle of a call with the after-sales service. Nagi hopes that the cost of the repairs will be covered by the guarantee. His insurance advisor tends to find the best excuses not to pay up—although Nagi can’t blame them, considering they at the very least agreed to keep him in their client portfolio.
“Are you kidding me, Hachinoya? I wouldn’t be able to look at Toi in the eye if I let you deal with this all on your own.” Ryui walks up to him, and Nagi almost envies him for wearing shorts. His pants are starting to feel quite heavy. “I’ll help. But seriously, how did you manage to break all your machines at all? And there’s so much water? Are you some kind of destruction genius?”
Nagi stares at the water flooding the store. Now, this is quite funny that Ryui knows it’s his fault, because it is. All he has to do is breathe—and his world unravels before his eyes, like the threads of a badly-woven piece of cloth. Trying to repair it might restore the balance, but if he tried to embroider a flower, to make it slightly prettier than it is, than he’s going to undo the whole piece.
And all of that happens for one reason. “Well, you see, Ryui, my yajirobe is—”
“Why the hell are you talking about a toy right now?”
“My balance of hap—”
“Yeah, no, I don’t have the time to listen to you.” Ryui sounds too tired to hear the full answer to his question, so Nagi closes his mouth. It was going to be a long story, after all. Nagi has learnt from Arisa and Theresa that you only control 42% of your happiness. Which means that the remaining 58% are determined by genetics and other factors. In Nagi’s case, there’s no doubt that he was born as the unluckiest man on earth, as if a dark hole was standing in front of him and swallowing all the light and hope and fortune before they could reach him.
Up to now, Nagi has always managed to keep a good enough balance. That’s no longer the point, though.
“Please tell me you have some buckets and a water vacuum.”
Nagi shakes his head. “Not the vacuum. I didn’t think I’d ever need one.” That was his mistake, though. Someone like him should be prepared for all and any possibilities.
Ryui sighs. “Fine. Then just the buckets will do.”
Nagi leaves behind the curtain—which did nothing to prevent the flood from spreading to the back of the store—to get a couple of buckets from the backroom.
When he’s back, Ryui is looking at the broken machines with his eyepatch lifted, his left eye glowing. The sight takes Nagi’s breath away each time he witnesses it. In these moments, he knows that he’s right and his theory of happiness; there is a whole world beyond theirs, invisible to his eyes. Ryui must be able to see it, although he never talks much about it. In these moments, he knows that a part of Ryui will never belong to him; not just because he has a twin and a lover has no choice but to share him with his other half, not just because Ryui is always on his guard and unwilling to open up completely. No, Ryui is also a part of this world that Nagi can’t see, and maybe one day he’ll be whisked away by one of the things running rampant on the other side. Nagi wouldn’t be surprised if it happened.
It always goes that way, after all: those who love him tend to disappear out of his reach.
“Do you see something abnormal?”
Ryui jumps, startled by Nagi’s question, and promptly puts his eyepatch back. “Of course not. They just broke on their own.”
Whether he lies or not, Nagi can’t tell.
But he can tell, though, that Ryui cares when he grabs the buckets, leaving only one in Nagi’s hand, and puts the others on the counter. It’s obvious that he cares when he kneels in the water, indifferent to the fact that his shorts are getting wet, and fills a bucket in silence. He doesn’t let a single complaint get through his lips as he gets up and leaves to empty it in the back.
Nagi and Sonia, who just finished her call, look at him disappearing behind the curtain.
“You’ve got yourself a good boyfriend, Nagi-shan,” the robot says, and there’s fondness in her voice, too—for she’s seen how Nagi was before meeting him, half a shadow of a man who didn’t dare to be greedy.
He nods. “Yes. I’m incredibly lucky to have him.”
The thing is, this isn’t good news for him at all.
⚖
Because you see, it always goes that way:
As soon as Nagi receives a little happiness, he also receives a fair share of misfortune in return. He doesn’t even question it. If some people are born with all the luck in the world, then they are hogging it from the rest; a couple of others take the crumbs, and then comes Nagi’s turn. And so he stands in front of an empty plate, with nothing to claim as his.
Well, it’s probably his fault. He must have been a terrible person in his previous life. Or he was perhaps too nice and let everyone else go before him and pick whatever they fancied. Whatever it is, the outcome is the same, and Nagi doesn’t see the point of pondering over it. He’s allergic to luck. It’s as simple as that.
Being invited to the dorms of HAMA Tours already threw his yajirobe off. He only managed to stay alive because the chief offered herself as his personal happiness reliever, and even now he never forgets to fill her room with as many flowers as possible. Really, he doesn’t know what he’d do without her. He can peacefully sleep in his own bed thanks to her, knowing that whatever will befall him won’t reach a life-threatening level of danger. So he’s grateful.
He still is, even though these blissful days might be over by now.
After all, when Ryui suggests they watch a movie together, the evening after the flooding—a perhaps safer kind of date, so one Nagi shouldn’t dread as much as he does—he’s once again wondering what kind of misfortune will fall upon him now that he said yes.
The two of them sit in the living room, empty of anyone else’s presence. Toi gently took Netaro by the wrist and dragged him to their room, and Nagi could tell that Ryui almost considered cancelling the movie date for a split second, but he simply took a deep breath, clenched his fists and flopped down on the couch next to Nagi, so close that their arms bumped against each other.
For a short while, the room stays quiet, with Ryui switching the TV on and looking for the right movie on a streaming service and Nagi staring at him, wondering if he’s allowed to place his head on Ryui’s shoulder without startling the other or upsetting the yajirobe’s balance.
“Hey, Hachinoya,” Ryui suddenly says, “get your cold hand’s off me.”
“Sorry.”
Nagi moves away from Ryui with regret. At this distance, he can still feel the faint warmth of his boyfriend’s body—why is Ryui’s skin always so hot whenever Nagi touches him, deliberately or by accident, is one of the few questions Nagi might have the answer to. People like him, with a heart so kind it seeps through the walls he puts all around himself, are fated to burn like the sun, to attract all the warmth of the air and keep it inside their chest. And people like Nagi, who can only live in the dark, cannot stare at him without blinding themselves.
Ryui feels him moving and turns his head to him. “What are you doing, idiot? I just said your hand, you can sit close if you wanna.”
In the semidarkness of the living room, with the TV screen as the only source of light, Ryui’s face glows faintly.
“Oh.” Of course, Nagi misunderstood him. “Are you sure, Ryui? My whole body is abnormally cold. What if you end up falling sick because of me?”
A flicker of worry twists Ryui’s face—a fleeting emotion that vanishes before Nagi can make sure it’s truly there. There’s a dullness in his voice as he half-screams: “Can you use your brain for a fucking second?! There’s no way I’d get sick just from touching you…”
But you might catch my misfortune, he thinks. Because he knows it will happen, one day. Because this is something Nagi fears, deep down, and if the thought has already bloomed in his heart, then it’s already a possibility—in other words, a danger he cannot ignore.
Still, Nagi’s traitorous heart skips a beat. He gets closer again, keeping his hands to himself—and oh, Ryui’s body truly is warm. So impossibly that he might already be sick, but Nagi doesn’t dare to say it aloud since Ryui believes he cannot get sick at the moment.
Ryui grabs the remote. “Better. Can we start the movie now?”
Nagi nods, and Ryui presses the play button.
Nagi tries to keep his eyes on the screen. The movie has been picked by Ryui, so he wants to be able to hold a conversation about it when they’re done. To make Ryui a little happier, to make him satisfied with Nagi even though he picked the worst boyfriend possible. This probably won’t be enough, though. And it doesn’t help that Nagi can’t focus properly on the movie: it doesn’t seem to have much of a plot, rather a succession of fighting scenes loosely connected by some thin narrative lines, and the character Nagi thought would be the protagonist dies within the first twenty minutes. Maybe he simply doesn’t get it. Maybe he’s a little too stupid to understand this film.
Suddenly, the screen freezes, and when Nagi looks at Ryui, he sees the other man looking at him, the remote once again in his hand. His annoyance is barely contained, Nagi even feels it in the air he breathes—finding it harder to inhale and exhale under the heaviness of Ryui’s gaze.
“You’re not really watching,” Ryui says, his voice a little too low for Nagi to determine if he’s just pissed or if he truly resents Nagi for not enjoying the movie he personally picked.
Nagi bites his lower lip in repentance. “Sorry, Ryui. I’ll try to focus.”
“Why are you saying sorry? It’s fine if you don’t like this movie. We can watch something else.” His words don’t match his tone. They’re too soft, too sympathetic—betraying the affection Nagi knows Ryui feels for him, deep down, under levels and levels of rejection.
Because just like Nagi has been shaped by his legendary misfortune, Ryui has been shaped by his own shadows. And Nagi doesn’t know yet what, exactly, lurks in the darkness of Ryui’s heart: something about spirits, or demons, or other form of otherworldly mysteries that Nagi isn’t meant to ever encounter. But the darkness remains, unwilling to subside, covering Ryui’s love just like the clouds conceal the sun: never wholly, for light still shines through.
“But you wanted to watch this one.”
“No,” and Ryui rolls his eye, “I wanted to watch a movie with you.”
Nagi’s heart skips a beat. Ah, he thinks, I’m truly going to die soon. If thunder is to fall upon him, he hopes it will at least wait until he’s all alone so it doesn’t make collateral victims. He wouldn’t want anyone to witness the gruesome death that is sure to await him.
“Can I still give it another try, Ryui? I want to learn more about you and your tastes.”
There’s a hint of pink on Ryui’s cheek now—one of the few signs that Ryui cares about Nagi even more than he lets out. “Then we’ll do it tomorrow. You look tired, Hachinoya. You should go to bed for now.”
Because you see, the balance of Nagi’s happiness now constantly tilts towards the wrong side. And he has no idea how he can bring it back to its usual state.
⚖
The thing is, it wouldn’t have happened if, as he planned to, Nagi had kept his feelings for himself.
If anything, having unrequited feelings for a fellow mayor who was clearly not fond of him was the best thing that could happen to him. For a short while, it brought true balance to his yajirobe, and Nagi was able to experience a rather normal life. No flowerpot falling from the sky when he walks in the street, no freshly painted bench he sits on because the warning sign fell to the ground, no sudden downpour when he decides to weed the neighbourhood. It was nice, to experience how life was for everyone else.
It was happiness, at the cost of what made his life truly worth living.
“I assure you, you aren’t going to die any time soon,” Toi says in a reassuring voice. “Aa-chama said you’re fated to live a long, long life full of misery.”
This isn’t the first time Nagi comes to Angel’s Eye to consult Toi about his problems in a more formal way—although it’s the first time his appointment regards Toi’s own brother. But he feels it a little more here, this world that exists beyond his gaze, that he can only feel by the tip of his fingers without fully grasping it. It becomes all too real when Toi wears a veil of white and sits underneath a small tent filled with the alien smell of incense.
“Well,” Nagi replies, “that’s not good at all. I don’t really want to break up with your brother.”
There’s a sharpness in Toi’s gaze. It cuts clean through Nagi, and he doesn’t like this feeling of being torn in half—it’s already uncomfortable sitting on the guest chair of Angel’s Eye, his hands nervously resting on his lap, facing a man he considers a friend shrouded in light and incense. Toi doesn’t feel like Toi; he feels like a kind but eerie seer from a legend, and Nagi can’t stop himself from fidgeting when Toi looks at him that way.
“Yes, that is a problem. If anything happens to Ani-sama because of you, I won’t forgive you.” The light overflowing the tent doesn’t reach his eyes as he speaks.
Nagi tries to stay calm. “Thank you for your sincerity. I will not mind if you curse me. Or whatever you want to do in revenge.”
“That being said—” Toi takes a deep breath. Behind the veil covering most of his face, it’s a little hard to make out his expression. Nagi supposes this is appropriate for a divination professional, but it’s still unnerving. “I understand that this is beyond your control. I would like to help you, if possible.”
“Is it?”
Toi sighs. “Not that I know. With Aa-chama’s help, I can predict the future and… well, do some other things. They might have the power to reverse your misfortune, but if that’s the case, it will cost at a high price.”
“I can pay it.” As he said, Nagi doesn’t want to break up with Ryui. He didn’t plan to confess to him, and he was thrown off when the other did it himself. Ryui didn’t just blurt out the words: he took Nagi out to dinner, criticized his outfit, complained about the meal he picked, and then offered the most heartfelt confession Nagi’s ever heard—beautiful, albeit a little clumsy. Who’d want to break up with a guy like him, really?
“No, I don’t think you can. What if you pass your misfortune to someone else in exchange?”
Nagi’s entire body freezes.
The first face that comes to his mind is Ryui’s. The constant crease of his forehead, barely hidden underneath his locks; the edge of his gaze, rendered sharper by the lack of an eye; and the softness of his skin under Nagi’s fingers, something he only experienced once or twice, because he doesn’t dare to touch Ryui too often. Soft, and warm as only a living person can be.
The possibility that has always loomed over their future.
It’d be terrible, if this was the prize he had to pay.
“Nagi-san? Hey, Nagi-san, you stopped breathing!”
Nagi only realises that he did when Toi points it out, and he takes a deep breath. In, out, and suddenly his body remembers how to do it on its own.
“Ah,” he says, blinking several times to chase the memory of Ryui’s face from his eyes, “yes. That would be bad.”
Toi still stares at him. The crystal ball sitting on the table emits a faint purple light—just like Ryui’s covered eye, Nagi realises. It makes him shiver.
“There might still be something we can do,” Toi ends up saying. “I’ll think about it, Nagi-san.”
And it’s not a promise, Nagi is aware of that; but to him, it’s all the same. Hope is already a gift, something he’s never allowed himself to cling to. So a glimpse of light amidst the darkness of his life is already enough to burn his eyes—and he welcomes the feeling, this time, because he’d rather lose his sight than lose Ryui.
So he takes Toi’s hand—feels it shiver under his palm, and to him it’s almost like magic, almost like something is happening and he can perceive it running under the skin of his friend’s fingers.
“You don’t have to do it if it’s a bother but… thank you, Toi.” For giving him more than he deserves.
Toi’s smile is strangely soft as he nods. “Anything for my brother and for you.”
⚖
The unspoken truth is:
You get used to being unlucky. Kind of.
When Nagi’s motorcycle breaks down and the garage tells him they’ll receive the needed spare part in a month, he only shrugs and apologizes to his customers for not being able to do deliveries. When the laundry machines continue to malfunction even after being repaired, he simply buys the water vacuum that Ryui asked for and uses it almost daily. When an abnormal amount of flowers starts to wilt, he asks Sonia to get a new kind of compost. When the A/C of the shop stops working too, he borrows a portable one from Netaro—a custom-made model which ends up almost deep-freezing the plants, and Ryui gets mad at him for trusting his roommate’s evil inventions.
When he accidentally freezes his bank account while taking care of his last customer of the day (an impressive feat that he believes will make Ryui laugh at him—angrily so, unfortunately, even though this kind of incident sounds like coming straight from a comedy so it’s still a little funny), he agrees to let them pay the next time they’ll come.
And when the wind makes his umbrella fly away right when Nagi steps out of Flower Laundry, he allows himself to sigh at his bad luck.
This is fine, he tells himself. He doesn’t have his motorcycle, he can’t use his money, and now he doesn’t even have an umbrella to protect himself from the tremendous rain
“Are you shure you’ll be okay, Nagi-shan?” Sonia carefully stays inside the store as she speaks. She’ll have to stay in the store tonight too, to make sure the machines aren’t malfunctioning again. “You can shtay until it shtopsh, or you can call a friend…”
“No, it’ll be fine. I’ll go home first.” The storm won’t ease up any time soon, and if this is rebound for having a boyfriend then he’d rather not involve anyone else. Which means that he has no choice but to brace himself and face his fate. “See you later, Sonia.”
The robot doesn’t say anything as he closes the door and heads for the dorms. He finds it difficult to walk in the rain, with his drenched clothes heavy over his body; he barely sees where he puts his feet. Still, Nagi refuses to give up and go back to Flower Laundry. So he fights against the elements, shivering more and more as the light of the sun dims. So he fights even if his vision starts to blur at its edges, even if he feels like he’ll never be warm again.
And just when he thinks, perhaps I should take a break, his phone starts ringing. Nagi checks the phone. His heart skips a beat when he reads the displayed name, and he picks up with a trembling hand. “Hello, Ryui?”
“Where the fuck are you? Sonia just called and said you were outside without an umbrella.”
Nagi smiles—bless Sonia for taking care of him, because he doesn’t know how he manages to stand right now, and it’s truly a miracle he hasn’t fallen in a hole on the ground yet. “Actually, I did take my umbrella with me. It just got blown away by the wind.”
“Wha—? No, but are you stupid, Hachinoya? Sonia told you not to leave.” Ryui’s voice lowers to a growl. “Why didn’t you take a bus or call me?”
Nagi looks around. “Well, it doesn’t look there are buses running, and I froze my account earlier.”
“Enough of your excuses. Go find some shelter and tell me where to pick you up.”
Most of the shops on the street are already closed, unsurprisingly. What is surprising, though, is that he’s close to a convenience store, and as he walks up to the entrance, he realises that it is open. And that isn’t something he’s used to—this small glimpse of luck flickering in the dark. The one that burns his eyes so badly he’s not sure he’ll ever see again.
Still, Nagi gets inside. “I’m going to buy an umbrella. You don’t have to worry about me, Ryui.”
“Who said I was worried? I’m mad at you. I want to punch you.”
Nagi can easily imagine his boyfriend’s face—red with anger, but his eye a little too wide, his fists shaking a little too much. “No problem. I have a strong cheek.”
A weird noise comes from the other side of the phone—Nagi doesn’t know if Ryui has finally lost it or if he’s refraining himself from verbally assaulting his boyfriend. “You’re so annoying, Hachinoya. As if I’d ever hit you for real. Now, tell me where you are.”
Nagi stops in front of the umbrella shelf. “In a convenience store. I’ll send you the address by text.”
“You better. Wait for me, I’ll arrive soon.” Ryui hangs up and Nagi hurriedly sends the promised text before looking at the umbrellas.
There’s a rather wide choice of colours, from greens to blues to yellows, and Nagi doesn’t know which one to pick. The colour doesn’t matter much; he simply wants the sturdiest one, one that he won’t lose to a small gust of wind. He settles for a plain black umbrella with strengthened stretchers and ribs. He doesn’t doubt that he’ll break it in no time, but at least it might last for more than a day or two.
He probably still has time before Ryui comes, though, so he decides to check the magazines. Most are digitally released nowadays, but they still sell physical copies of travel magazines with beautiful photographs for those who enjoy them that way and can afford the price. The one that grabs his attention features a familiar picture on its first page. Nagi smiles as he picks it up. He remembers the day they took this picture of all five members of L4mps very well: he had just been confessed to, he recalls, and the photograph wanted the manzai duo of the group to sit side by side. A reasonable request, until Nagi started to violently shake on his seat because his arm accidentally brushed against Ryui. That was an embarrassing moment, and for some reason Ryui’s face was equally as red as his, and a few seconds later the chair broke under Nagi. None of these troubles are shown in the picture. It captured an instant that never truly existed, a moment of calm that Nagi hasn’t experienced himself for the past two months.
He skims through the pages until he finds the double pages introducing Ryui’s recommended activity in Ward 15. As Nagi expected, a pretty photo of a sunset-lit Angel’s Eye takes a third of the space. The words used to describe the place don’t really feel like Ryui’s: they promise you an otherworldly experience that will shake your beliefs to the core—or, at the very least, will leave an unforgettable memory, even if you don’t believe in the supernatural. Toi’s name isn’t even mentioned once, which is the biggest giveaway that the text has been rewritten. Nagi stares at the small portrait of Ryui pinned at the top left corner of the page. He seems uncomfortable, as if he’d guess that his words would get twisted and doesn’t really want to be credited for them.
“Why are you staring at your boyfriend’s pic behind his back? Gross.”
The voice doesn’t sound as disgusted as it says, though, and when he raises his eyes, Nagi is met with Ryui’s gaze.
And he, who thought that he’d never involve anyone in his misfortune, feels relieved to see him.
“Ryui,” he says, his voice trembling with an emotion he’d rather refrain. “You really came.”
“Course I did. I borrowed the company’s car just to drag you home.” Even though he drove all the way here, his shoulders are wet with rain, shaking. There’s a storm in his eye, too. Some sort of powerful tempest that could blow Nagi away—and yet Ryui’s hand is gentle when it takes Nagi’s, his fingers grazing the skin of Nagi’s wrist like the mellow breath of a breeze, his grip tight yet loose enough for Nagi to get away if he wishes so. “Don’t you dare worrying me like that ever again.”
Nagi feels a lump in his throat. “Yes. I’m sorry, Ryui. I didn’t want to bother you.”
“You’re already a bother every single day of your life.” There’s no edge in these words, though, only the dullness of a blade that has long been blunted. “Let’s get home.”
Nagi nods—he’s drowning in happiness, right now, and he’s lost the count so he doesn’t know if he’ll have to suffer for it later on, but that’s the thing about Ryui: if he loves you, he makes you feel like nothing else matters in the whole world. Nagi’s witnessed it so many times before with Toi, the softness of Ryui’s smile as he agrees to a request he considers a pain in the ass; this softness that is also his, now, because this is how Ryui looks at him after he left the dorms and braved the rain just to get to Nagi. Tragically annoyed at Nagi, and yet smiling with a fondness that can’t be denied anymore.
“Ah,” Nagi says, blinking to get rid of the tears starting to form at the corner of his eyes, “but I still have to pay for my umbrella.”
“Hurry up, then.” Ryui crosses his arms, and Nagi looks down at the magazine he’s still holding.
“I’ll be back.” And he goes to the checkout with both the umbrella and the magazine. Both will be expensive, but he doesn’t mind—even if he feels Ryui’s heavy gaze on his nape, but thankfully his boyfriend chooses not to comment on it.
Ryui is truly too kind to him.
⚖
And because things can never, ever go the way Nagi wants them to:
He finally hears the words he knew he’d hear, one day or another. The words he dreaded so much they sometimes kept him awake all night, as they rolled inside his mind like waves crashing against the shore.
“There’s something I have to tell you,” said Ryui out of the blue, and Nagi suddenly forgot how to breathe. “You’ll be free tonight after dinner, right?”
“Y-yes.” It took Nagi all of his energy to reply, even though he felt like his chest was going to implode any time soon. It hurt, and he was starting to see stars dancing in front of his eyes, but he had to reply to Ryui.
And he doesn’t know if Ryui noticed anything, or if he did but decided to ignore it, because he doesn’t remember much of what happened afterwards.
Nagi wants to believe that he was ready for the breakup. It’s been at the corner of his mind since they’ve started dating, and realistically there’s no way Ryui can endure everything that Nagi’s terrible lack of luck throws at him. He’s even started to suffer from it, too, as Nagi feared: his hoverboard also broke, and a prolonged blackout forced him to close his shop for two whole days. So yes, Nagi knew it would happen.
But it turns out you can’t possible prepare yourself for a breakup. Not when you still love the other person so much you feel their presence in you with each breath you take, as if they’d found a place for themself in-between your ribs. Not when you’ve tasted true bliss for the first time in your twenty years of existence, a happiness so sweet you believe it’s worth all the misfortunes befalling you.
So when, after dinner, Ryui makes a gesture to tell Nagi to follow him, Nagi feels like a condemned man walking to his execution. Ryui leads him to the balcony and keeps the door open for Nagi—ever so the gentleman, even when he’s about to break Nagi’s heart. The ceaseless rain that had clouded the town for days has finally cleared, and the air is fresh, unpolluted. A chill runs down Nagi’s spine when the wind skims him. The sun is low on the horizon, so low that it already went into hiding behind the buildings, but it’s still here in the brightness of the pink sky.
Of course it had to happen on such a beautiful evening, just so that Nagi won’t be able to admire the sunset without being reminded of his heartbreak.
Can you even heal from this pain? wonders Nagi as he sits down next to Ryui, his heart throbbing so fast it aches. There’s no way he can forget about Ryui, after all. This man is all edges and shadows, and he slips through Nagi’s fingers when he tries to hold him close, but he’s the one who claimed Nagi’s feelings as his, and Nagi just can’t take them back.
“Listen, Ryui,” he starts saying, believing that it’s probably best if he takes the initiative here, because Ryui is kind and Nagi doesn’t want to be a burden to him. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Huh? About what?” Ryui frowns, most likely surprised by Nagi’s sudden assertiveness.
And Nagi feels the tears fill his eyes, but he can’t stop now—so he braces himself, forces himself to go on even if his voice trembles the more he speaks. “I can tell… it’s been hard on you. Being with me. I can’t blame you for that.”
“Well, I won’t say it’s that easy, but—”
“It’s fine if you reached your limit. I understand. I’m used to it, but you’re not. And—” Nagi takes a deep breath. “It’s not fair to keep you… if you want to leave.”
Now Ryui is staring at him with a wide eye. “What the fuck are you saying?”
Nagi looks away. He thinks he’s doing a good job so far, but there’s no way he can continue if Ryui is looking at him with hurt in his eye. “I mean—if you want to break up with m—”
“IF I WHAT?” Nagi is used to hearing Ryui’s anger, but it might be the first time he’s heard him being that furious. His voice is so loud it makes Nagi’s whole body shiver. “BREAK UP WITH YOU? WHY WOULD I DO THAT?”
“Were you not trying to break up with me?”
“HELL NO?” Ryui is shaking; Nagi sees it in the corner of his eyes. It dawns on him that this is all his fault, and Ryui really should break up with a man who can only bring misfortunes and heartaches, but suggesting that might not be a good idea so he carefully keeps his mouth shut. “Are you stupid, Hachinoya?! Did I ever do something that’d make you think I wanted to dump you?”
Nagi tries to think of it. It’s true that Ryui asked if he was free tonight when he was helping Nagi receiving his morning delivery of flowers, and he called him during lunch break to make sure Nagi was eating all his food, and he even held his hand when they were talking to Yukikaze about dinner, and then Ryui opened the door of the balcony for him and—
“Oh.”
“Yeah, don’t you oh me.” Ryui’s voice sounds a little calmer now, but Nagi knows he’s trying his best to rein back his anger. “I can’t believe I fell for a guy like you.”
“If it can help, I also can’t believe you fell for a guy like me.”
“Shut up, Hachinoya.” So Nagi closes his mouth, and for a moment there’s nothing but silence. An eerie kind of silence, one so heavy he feels it coiling around his fingers. He doesn’t dare to break it.
Ryui himself keeps quiet, his eye shut as if to collect his thoughts. When he opens it again, the storm that lives in his iris has subsided—not entirely, just enough for him to speak calmly again.
“So.” His voice is steady, under control. “Remember when you asked Toi for a remedy for your bad luck and he said he’d think about it?”
Nagi nods. He’s not surprised that Toi mentioned this conversation to his brother; if anything, it’d be weird if Toi didn’t talk about it at all.
“He’s found a solution… not a cure, but something to ward off the worst of your bad luck.” Ryui takes something from his pocket and places it in Nagi’s hand. It’s a small talisman, looking like the charm that Ryui wears around his neck, although a little bigger and with a different character written on the pouch. “He wanted me to give it to you. Said it was his way of thanking you for taking care of me… as if I’m not the one who takes care of you.”
He’s worried about his beloved brother, Nagi thinks. And really, he understands Toi’s feelings. If he had someone like a sibling—someone who was here for him his whole life, who watched him grow and bloom and become a better version of himself—then he’d do the same.
His trembling hand clasps the charm.
“… Hey, Hachinoya, you could at least say thanks.”
“You told me to shut up.”
Ryui sighs. “Remind me why I am in love with you, again?”
Tears well up in Nagi’s eyes as he nods again, whispering a chocked thank you. Yes, he wonders that himself. Falling in love with Nagi should be impossible. Being that happy is impossible, for someone like him. It’s always been a dream, something that couldn’t possibly exist in reality, something he’d better not cling to.
It always goes that way:
The balance of his happiness tilts too heavily on the wrong side, but now Nagi might be able to face his misfortune with a little more bravery. After all, he was lucky enough to get himself a boyfriend as incredible as Shiramitsu Ryui, who’s ready to fight against fate itself for him.