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“Ryuu!” Atsushi called into the other room, arms laden with boxes. He shifted his hold on them, a smaller one precariously balanced on top wobbling with the movement. He peered at the marker-drawn words on the sides. “Where do you want these boxes? I think they’re full of reports or something!”
Ryuunosuke, walking past the entryway with boxes in his own arms as well, paused and squinted at the boxes Atsushi held for himself. Atsushi rolled his eyes. “You should be wearing your glasses, old man,” he complained. Ryuunosuke ignored him. “Office,” he replied simply, then walked away. Atsushi stuck his tongue out at the man, despite not being able to be seen. “Put your glasses on!!”
Sighing, Atsushi made his way to Ryuunosuke’s office, if it could even be called that. It was just a plain room with a desk chair and some boxes, for now.
Atsushi tried his best to maneuver around the even-more boxes shoved against the walls, the hallway crowded with them. He hit his shins a few times, but stayed upright. Reaching the end of the hall, Atsushi shouldered the door there open and stepped in, smiling as he was reminded why Ryuunosuke claimed this room for his office. The room was a semi-circle shape, with the curved wall being sectioned up by three beautiful silled windows that at the moment, since they hadn’t put the curtains up yet, were letting the gorgeous orange of the sunset shine through and illuminate the entire room. There was plenty of space to put the desk up, and Ryuunosuke wanted his bookshelves to line the flat wall.
Atsushi stepped forward, but his attention wasn’t fully on where he was going and, despite his best efforts to stay standing during his walk down the hall, tripped over a box. Go figure.
Atsushi yelped, wobbling as he tried to maintain his balance, and fell down on his butt, dropping his armful of boxes in the process. Fortunately, the two larger ones on the bottom had fallen right down, landing perfectly and staying stacked. The smaller one, however, had tipped over, hitting the floor on its side and popping the folded flaps on the top open. Papers spilled out, and Atsushi groaned. He scrambled to his hands and knees, righting the box and trying to scoop the papers back inside in the same motion. He got most of them, but a good few were scattered across the floor. Atsushi reached for them, then paused. Glancing over the ones in the box, he realized that they were all handwritten. He had assumed that these were old reports, but there wasn’t any printed text on any of them, just Ryuunosuke’s familiar loopy handwriting. Picking up one of the stray papers, Atsushi gave it a closer look. It was Ryuunosuke’s handwriting, alright, but there was a sort of frantic feeling to it. Atsushi’s eyes widened as he actually took in the words written. He looked over a few more with growing confusion.
All of the pages were filled with what seemed to be poetry. Very dark poetry.
when was the last time i truly felt safe?
i dont think i can recall.
all my memories are fractured,
ground between reality and coping,
until they are like ashes for an urn -
for what am i, if not an urn?
my insides have been scraped out and set aflame,
my mind is not even my own anymore.
i am but a husk, a vessel
a vessel for dead and gone memories
that i cant even tell are mine.
Atsushi furrowed his brow and sat back on his heels. Did Ryuunosuke really feel like this? He grabbed another paper. He felt like he was invading the man’s privacy, but if Ryuunosuke’s mental health was at risk then it was necessary.
Would it kill you to have some pride in your work
You’ve tied me down with broken parts
You say that it’s better to be feared than loved
Then does that mean I was doomed from the start?
Your eyes away from me yet never deceive
I’m begging you tell what’s the matter with me?
You tear me to pieces and tell me to bleed
When all that I’ve wanted is to be seen
Atsushi read the rest of the page with increasing worry. He was so absorbed in what the meaning could be that he didn’t hear the footsteps behind him. He startled when a voice came from the doorway, turning around quickly like a guilty child who had been caught touching their parents’ things. Ryuunosuke raised a thin eyebrow.
“Is everything alright in here? Are you hurt?”
Atsushi shook his head sheepishly. “I’m fine, just tripped.” He looked over his shoulder at the papers. “Hey, what was in that little box?”
Ryuunosuke cocked his head, holding a hand out for the paper still in Atsushi’s hands. He skimmed over it (with his glasses on, Atsushi noticed victoriously), then hummed. “Ah. It’s just some old poetry of mine.” He crouched down and gathered the rest of the scattered papers together, then tapped the bottoms on the floor to straighten them out before placing them back in the box. Atsushi watched as he placed the box on one of the windowsills.
“Old?” he asked, standing up, and Ryuunosuke seemed to pick up on the unspoken question in his tone.
“Yes, weretiger, old,” he replied. “Why? Did you read them?”
Atsushi looked down, feeling a bit of shame prick at his ears. “A couple, yeah,” he admitted. “I just- I was worried. I didn’t know…”
“You’re fine, Atsushi,” Ryuunosuke assured him, leaning against the sill. “I wrote those when I was but an angst-ridden teenager trying to cope with all his loss. That was nearly fifteen years ago, weretiger. I promise you, I’m okay now. Feel free to read them at your leisure, but not at your expense.”
Atsushi nodded, giving a small smile. “Okay. I trust you.” Ryuunosuke’s ears reddened and he looked away, somehow more flustered by trust than by love, and Atsushi couldn’t help but marvel at how magnificent the man looked in that moment. He was silhouetted against the window, the sky having turned from a warm orange to a deep blood red, and he seemed to be nearly glowing, clouds reflecting in the lenses of his glasses.
“Fool,” he murmured, and Atsushi grinned. He stepped over to the window and took Ryuunosuke’s hands in his own. “If I’m a fool for trusting you, then wouldn’t you be one as well for trusting me?” he countered, and Ryuunosuke scoffed.
“Who said it had to do with trust?” he replied, turning his head back to look up at Atsushi. Much to the man’s dismay, Atsushi had managed to gain a few inches on him in his last few formative years. Ryuunosuke couldn’t stay mad at him long, though; not when the man was leaning down to steal his lips and his breath in a single motion.
He was home.
It may be cluttered and full of dust, but this was his home. And neither of them would give it up for anything.