Work Text:
Ryusui let out a yawn as he stretched. His last shred of will must’ve escaped him from that yawn, because his body immediately flopped in the chair. He let out a long, defeated sigh, as he lazily eyed the paper before him. It stared back at him.
For the sake of everyone’s mental health, this time he was not sitting in an exam room, creating bullshit out of thin air. No, today he was doing homework. (Another essay, to be exact.) Frankly, there wasn’t really a difference between them, if you asked him, because both involved staring at blank space, and contemplating all your choices that brought you here to this moment. How long has it been since he was stuck in this chair? How long had he stared at this? He's so, so bored.
Now, Ryusui wasn’t a procrastinator. He’d finish any task before the deadline. He prided himself on extensively planning and efficiently organizing his work little by little to acquire the most desirable results. And to avoid burnout. Doing it otherwise would just stress him out. Unfortunately for him, despite the hours spent planning and organizing an actual coherent story structure, nothing emerged on the page. Oh, yeah, and the deadline is tomorrow. Wait, tomorrow?!
Panic settled in. He might actually scream from frustration. Ryusui clutched at his head with both hands. Tomorrow.. His eyes drifted to the clock. Seconds ticked by, and they were nothing more but a constant reminder that his essay still didn’t exist.
He chewed the inside of his lip, his eyebrows furrowing.
‘Your teacher has asked you to write a story for the school magazine. The title of the story is ‘A Lucky Mistake’. Your story must include the description of the mistake, and explain how the mistake turned out to be a lucky one.’
The only mistake he knew was choosing this story. What kind of lucky thing could possibly come from this? Mistakes are humiliating, but he knew it’s there to help you learn a lesson or two. A lucky mistake, however, implied that the mistake wasn’t really a mistake at all. It was something that should’ve happened. So, what exactly was he supposed to learn from this? Was it trying to say that mistakes were good? Was this an encouragement to fail? If Ryusui turned in his paper empty, would it be considered him completing the assignment?
Normally, he’d usually turn to the internet for help. Surely, there’s a lot of people out there with a ton of mistakes. Except, most of the stories he’s seen people write on their blogs were.. adult stuff. You know, dating, hooking up, and other adult stuff adults do that no child in their right mind should even be thinking about, much less writing for their homework. He’d get scolded if he ever wrote anything resembling that. So, logically, his teacher was expecting him to write something childish. Ryusui was more than capable of that!
Well, long story short, the last time he had tried to be creative was on his last English exam, where they, very sternly, reminded him that all stories must be rooted in realism. He failed that paper, by the way. Ryusui had never hated the rules more than at that moment.
He tried to think. He really, really tried. It wasn’t that hard of a question. Hardly anything like this should be even remotely difficult. Yet somehow, his ideas keep slipping away. It was like his brain was caught up in a white, endless fog, slowing down every thought until it was barely moving at all. Ryusui stabbed his pen into the paper. How did something so simple end up being complicated?
He did consider quitting. But Ryusui was no quitter! He would never let himself lose, even if he was the one battling against himself. There was no way he’d give up on something like this. Even if his own mind seemed intent on sabotaging him, giving up was simply not an option. Even the worst of storms would eventually pass by.
(On second thought, that does sound very motivating and all, but it didn’t exactly incite his imagination. Seriously, where does one even start, anyway?)
Ryusui let out a heavy sigh. Just thinking about it only seemed to mount even more stress onto his shoulders. He felt his eyelids droop, but closing them would mean sleep, and sleep meant grogginess, and grogginess was going to make his already fragile brain explode into confetti.
He slammed his head on the table. He hadn’t slept since yesterday. He’s spent too much time thinking— well, mostly staring at the vast emptiness of the paper. And the more he thought about the essay, the less he felt capable of writing anything at all. What if he could never complete it?
Ryusui buried his face in his hands. He felt utterly hopeless.
“Master Ryusui.” He flinched. He quickly turned around to see Francois approaching him with a tray. “You seem troubled.” Somehow, they managed to place the tray on his cluttered desk.
Ryusui looked over the tray to find a cup of steaming matcha latte on it. His eyes sparkled. Just the smell alone was enough to make him shake in anticipation. He guided the cup to his lips, and inhaled it deeply before taking a tentative sip.
The warmth spread through him instantly, and it’s like all his worries melted away. It was so good, he might actually tear up.
“Thank you, Francois.” He sniffled. It was like a ray of light had finally shone down. If not for them, he’d probably be nowhere right now. He might’ve even eaten his homework so he could use the ‘my dog ate it’ excuse. That was a last resort. As far as he knew, paper was not tasty. So, truly, he couldn’t be more grateful for Francois’ presence than he was right now.
Francois hummed. “You are welcome.” Their gaze then drifted to his unmoving, unchanging, and eternally empty paper. “You have been at it for quite a while now.”
Ryusui blinked. He did remember Francois passing by a few hours ago. Or was it yesterday? “Oh, yeah, definitely.” He laughed at his own misery. “Just can’t get the brain juices flowing. Life’s just like that, I guess.”
Francois’ lips twitched slightly. “Is there any way I can assist you? To ‘get the brain juices flowing’?”
Ryusui smiled. This wasn’t something he should ask Francois about. He knew the importance of doing learning exercises. Though, he still appreciated the offer. “No thanks! I need to finish this with my own effort!”
Francois studied him for a moment, before they returned the smile, albeit a small one compared to his, and put a hand on his shoulder. “Do not hesitate to ask for help if you are in need of it, Master Ryusui. I will be here.”
“Thanks, Francois.” The words were far too small to carry what he really felt. He wanted to say more, but he doesn’t quite know how to convey them. He could only hope they were enough.
Francois gave him a small, knowing nod. That single, understanding gesture made Ryusui feel as if everything will turn out fine.
They turned to leave, and Ryusui watched as they left, closing the door with a soft click. After confirming that they were gone, he slumped again, and crashed onto the table.
With the current state of things, he had no choice but to pull another all-nighter.
★
Ryusui rubbed his head frantically, dishevelling his hair, as he looked at the slim piece of paper with wild eyes. If he kept this on, he was going to start generating static electricity.
He had completed it somehow, but at what cost? The first few lines looked readable enough, but as the essay progressed, the lines slowly transformed into chicken scratch and downright unreadable towards the end. All of his ideas seemed to get worse, and the structure of his sentences just didn't make sense. Who let him write this?
Ryusui wasn’t a perfectionist, but he’d try to do anything the best he could. This wasn’t perfect, and that’s okay, but there was absolutely no way he was going to submit this… eye sore. Okay, he’ll admit, he didn’t try his best with this, but after going at it for nearly twenty hours straight, he was convinced his brain might literally leak out of his ears. At that thought, Ryusui decided it was time to stop. As long as it had an ending, it was clearly not his problem anymore.
That brought him over to his final task, which was none other than proofreading it, and yeah, the thing is, his eyes had passed through this same paragraph a million times, and he felt as if he was going to get increasingly insane by the minute. Ryusui doesn’t plan on losing his marbles just yet (because he wants everything), so he definitely needed a trusted adult to review this before it went anywhere near a teacher.
His mind went to Francois, but he couldn’t possibly disturb their sleep. God knows how much they need that rest. So his mind settled on the next best thing. There was only one other all-nighter left he could ask for help.
He got up from his seat, and began his journey down the corridor. His knees wobbled dangerously from the hours of sitting, but he pressed on, leaning against the wall for support. He was halfway to collapsing and fainting in the middle of the hallway, but he’d never let an opportunity like this pass him by. He reached the door at last, and planted himself firmly in front of it.
What he meant by that is, of course, the opportunity of kicking down the door.
He did just that, and with a swing of his foot, the door burst open, slamming against the inner wall with a loud thud. “Sai!” He called out, practically vibrating with excitement. “Help me proofread thi—”
Ryusui squinted. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it was definitely not an empty room. Which immediately struck him as odd, because Sai was always in his room. Like… permanently. He never came out unless absolutely necessary.
He tiptoed forward, reaching for the light switch. Instantly, all traces of his exhaustion had vanished, because everything in this room was bare. There wasn’t even a computer on his desk. How was that possible? Sai couldn’t even live without that thing.
Cautiously, he ventured further into the room, looking around for clues. He ran his finger absently across the dresser, fully expecting it to come back dusty— but it came away spotless instead. His mind raced. So this room must’ve been cleaned recently.
Ryusui stepped back, his eyebrows knitted together. He didn’t get the wrong room, did he? No, that can’t be. He knew this room by heart. He even specifically memorized the angle of the moonlight hitting the bed sheets at this hour. Sai liked to code in the dark. He’d know, because he’d always sneak up behind him just to see the soft glow of the computer screen illuminating Sai’s face. He remembered it like it was yesterday, hitting Ryusui’s eyes at this exact position.
Unless Sai had changed rooms. That made sense. Obviously, all he had to do now was just find him! Feeling reassured by this very reasonable conclusion, Ryusui nodded to himself and slipped back into the corridor. One by one, he tried the handles, only to discover that every single one of them was locked. He did try pushing against it, but it only made Ryusui realize he wasn’t as strong as he’d imagined. So instead, he settled on pressing his ear against each one, just in case Sai had decided he needed some personal space. Ryusui also wanted that! He, too, liked Sai’s personal space. But all he was met with was silence. Ryusui tried not to feel disappointed.
He moved on. There were still other doors left, after all. Ryusui was no quitter! The hallway stretched on longer than it should have, but he kept walking, testing door after door. With each step, his breaths grew uneven, his chest tighter. Since when did it feel this hard to breathe?
Finally, he reached the end of the hallway. That made Ryusui stare in whiplash. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand, blinking hard. Every question and scenario ran through his mind at all once. Did he miss something while listening in earlier? Did Sai.. change floors? Oh no, was he kidnapped by aliens?! He’d always known Sai was smart! They definitely captured him to harness his genius!
Ryusui faltered, the longer the thought went on. As much as he didn’t want to accept reality as it is, he wasn’t a child anymore. Stuff like that wasn’t realistic, so he had to be logical. Then, where did he go?
He swallowed, clutching his papers to his chest. He didn’t like where his mind was heading. Sai’s disappearance had to be temporary, right? Where else would he go other than home?
Ryusui looked down at his essay. He doesn’t like the idea of it being un-proofread, but at this rate, if he stood here any longer, his legs might just give out. Pushing oneself to the absolute limit rarely ended well, and he’d already done his best, anyway. He could search for Sai properly tomorrow, after he actually gets some rest. If he doesn’t, he could overthink absolutely anything and arrive at the most irrational conclusions ever.
At least, Ryusui just didn’t want to risk them being right.
He moved to retreat back to his own room, only to be met with Francois at the opposite end of the hallway, walking towards him. Ryusui’s heart leapt. He could ask Francois for help! He wasn’t completely hopeless, after all!
He mustered the last of his energy and jogged over, closing the distance between them. By the time he reached them, he nearly tripped over his own feet, breathless from exertion. “Fran—” He wheezed, and then there was this weird combination of a cough, a choke, and a sneeze, escaping him all at once.
Thankfully, Francois gave him time to recover from that. Ryusui snorted his snot back into his nose and tried again. He beamed. “Francois! What are you doing here this late?”
Francois glanced at their watch. “..It is 5 AM.”
Ryusui blinked. What did that have to do with anything? “Help me proofread this!” He brought his homework up to them, his eyes sparkling with plea.
Without much protest, Francois accepted it, and put on their reading glasses to look at it clearly. Ryusui watched as their eyes moved steadily across the page, and he had to admit, they had a very good poker face, because not once did their face twitch. It helped a little with his tendency to overthink.
Eventually, François gave him back the paper, their eyes meeting his. Ryusui held his breath.
“Master Ryusui,” They said carefully, “your story… demonstrates that you have misunderstood the concept of a lucky mistake. You have written as if the point of a lucky mistake is that it is an excuse to deliberately mess things up.”
Ryusui’s brain short-circuited. He could just feel his entire mental world tilting on its axis. “Yeah? If it’s lucky, it worked, right? If it’s good, then it’s something I should do. That means I should keep doing it again.”
“..A ‘lucky’ mistake occurs when an error leads to an unintended positive outcome. The lesson is not that it is acceptable to be careless, but that sometimes, mistakes can produce unexpected benefits.” Francois paused, letting the words sink in. “You learn not because you aimed to fail, but because the mistake presents a chance for growth. One does not manufacture a lucky mistake, but reflects upon it.”
Ryusui frowned. He could already feel his brain twisting itself into knots trying to make sense of that. “So I still have to take responsibility for it? Why? Nothing’s my fault if it turned out fine.”
François crouched down to meet him at eye level. “Responsibility is not about blame, Master Ryusui. It is about recognizing the effects of your actions and learning from them, whether they result in success or failure.” They reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “A child is never to be blamed for simply being a child. But even they must learn to reflect, and face what comes from their choices.”
Ryusui sniffled, nearly on the verge of tears. Again, what did that have to do with anything? None of that was helpful at all, and what, judging by what Francois said earlier (It’s 5 AM?!), he had less than three hours to salvage his entire paper.
Francois must’ve pitied the state he was in, gently taking the essay from his hands and tapped a few sections of the paper. “Here, some adjustments in perspective will suffice. You need not worry and start over, Master Ryusui. Your structure is sound. Your ideas are present. You have simply… drawn the wrong conclusion. That can still be corrected.”
Ryusui wiped his nose, unsure if he should be grateful or not. The thought of going back at it might just melt his brain. He’s barely surviving as is, and he still wanted to live longer. There’s so many things to do and see in this world, after all! He managed a tiny smile. “Thank you, Francois.” Really, Ryusui truly appreciated their input. Will he take it into consideration? No.
He rubbed his eyes, staggering a little. “Where’s Sai, anyway? His room’s empty.”
François paused. It’s as if they were choosing their words carefully. Ryusui’s heart dropped. The longer they hesitated, the more Ryusui’s thoughts spiraled. He didn’t even want to entertain them.
They said finally, though reluctant. “Master Sai has gone to India. He is pursuing his dreams there.”
Ryusui took a moment to process that. Wait, his dreams? “Wow! That’s great!” He straightened just slightly, chest puffing up. He didn't understand why he had been so worried that Sai was gone. After all, Sai was finally chasing his dreams. That was something to celebrate! “How long will he stay there then?”
François opened their mouth to answer, but before a word came out, Ryusui’s mind raced ahead. “Did you see him off, Francois? I didn’t even remember—”
Ryusui stopped himself. His gaze dropped to the floor. “..Did he leave this morning?” He asked quietly, and Francois could only nod. Of course he didn’t remember seeing Sai off— he never had the chance. He could’ve stopped by and said goodbye, even if he decided to leave in the middle of the night. Ryusui wouldn’t mind— he’d been awake the entire time. His door wasn’t even locked, and his lights were literally on. Why didn’t he?
Ryusui stared at the paper blankly. At that time, he was still too young to describe it. He could think of a million explanations, but they’d never come close. He never had the words. “Do you think it’s my fault?” Was it Sai’s? Were they both at fault? Could anything ever be so simple?
Francois only rested their hand on his shoulder.
“Children should never be blamed for being children.”
Thousands of years passed by then. The petrification happened though, not because Ryusui was cursed to be an immortally hot guy. Well, actually, with the petrification device in their hands now, they were technically immortal, but that was a whole can of worms to open later.
Ryusui sat cross-legged, scooping another bite of rice into his mouth. In the end, even after so many years, he eventually wound up in India. He glanced at the others, quietly watching them. Around him, they all talked and laughed, and he chewed slowly, taking a moment to appreciate it all. This was where he belonged. He had no doubt about that.
“Ha! We may be separated by land and sea, but siblings..” Kohaku’s voice drifted into his ears at one point, her eyes distant and longing as she stared at the night sky. “..they’d always understand each other.”
Ryusui smiled to himself. It’s been a long time since he thought about that. Well, to be fair, he hadn’t thought about it hard back then. He never had the ability to properly express his feelings. He still didn’t quite believe he could. Some things couldn’t ever be written into words.
Even if he were to use the sea as ink, the sea would eventually dry.