Archive of Our Own

Talk of romance had been few and far between in Ymir. He remembered Master Ka-fai’s raving about women he had met during travels or Maple’s grumbling about finding a good husband for herself, a stark contrast to Purple’s reluctance toward doing the same. He remembered the way his dad’s expression would turn grim, brows furrowed in concern as a dash of despair crossed him at the mention of Elise’s coming of age. Mom would comfort Dad with a pat on the back, assuring him that their little girl would marry only the best of the best someday. His parents themselves were also of a reserved demeanor, and they did not talk much about how their marriage had come to be. Their preferred displays of affection veered toward the unspoken: an exchange of quiet smiles after a long day’s work or a steady hand on the other’s back, a steadfast promise of devotion.

It had been through this kind of tale he had come to understand romance. It had been yet another memory he cherished with the warmth of his days of boyhood, and it had since followed him into his youth. Romance, to Rean, was a concept set in a future so nebulously distant that it left him with no hopes of making out a picture amidst the fog. Romance was something that happened to the people around him, and—happy enough simply witnessing the happiness of others—he had never thought to count himself among them.

But his friends at Thors seemed to be of a different mind. Hey, Rean, is there anyone you like? Vivi would sometimes ask with that teasing lilt of hers. Every time, he would tilt his head in confusion. Of course. I love my family and friends, he’d say. And every time, that response would get a good laugh out of her. 

Questions of the sort were hardly limited to just Vivi. Even Elliot or Jusis would sometimes breach the topic, to which Rean would give similar responses to each and every one. They would always shake their heads or chuckle then, much to Rean’s chagrin. Elise was always calling him dense or clueless, but even someone like him would notice there had to be some big joke around that everyone except him seemed to be in on.

Most days, he simply bit back the faint irritation of being left out. After all, there was a lot of schoolwork, requests, and training to be done. Making the most out of his time at Thors to repay all his parents had done for him was the fervent wish that guided his every step at the academy.

Having just finished his midterms a few days ago, Rean was currently hard at work studying or running errands for Towa or the student body at large. Colette, fresh out of one of her shopping sprees, he assumed, had just asked him to make a delivery to Micht’s pawn shop in Trista.

And so, it was Trista he found himself in today. The Lino flowers had long since wilted, the trees around the park regaining their usual green shades. Despite the elegant stone streets and bustling stores, the air around the small town was always clear and refreshing, like a cool drink after a long day of training and errands. The cheer of the locals was just as infectious and ever-present, lingering throughout the streets long after they returned to their homes. Rean heaved a contented sigh as he admired the beautiful sunset of Trista, shoulders sagging in relaxation as he basked in the familiarity of the town that had surreptitiously crept into his heart and carved its place inside.

“Heeere, kitty, kitty.” A familiar voice echoed, followed by the soft chime of a bell.

The sound broke Rean out of his reverie, the sense of calm and tranquility he once felt replaced with the wariness of someone who had just seen the sky cloud over no sooner than they had set foot outside their house.

Stopping on his tracks, he shifted his weight uncomfortably as he peered at the sight overhead, stuck in a mental tug of war between sense and curiosity. “Umm… Senpai?”

The picture of his senior climbing a tree, cat toy in hand, came into view. A small kitten, fur colored black and white in a way that brought to mind the image of a fancy suit, looked frightened out of its mind. The small animal trembled harder than the leaves hanging from the tree branch below it as a gust of wind swept by them. Crow balanced himself precariously, clinging to another nearby branch for dear life. 

In stark contrast to how disaster-prone the whole predicament was, he greeted Rean without a care in the world. “Hey, if it isn’t my favorite first-year!” He smiled ear to ear; the levity with which he always carried himself almost fooled Rean into thinking there was nothing out of the ordinary. “Would love to hit you up for a chat, but as you can see, there is a bit of a situation going on here.” His signature bandana slowly slid down the side of his face and fell over one of his eyes.

Rean blinked. Once, twice, slowly. Belatedly, the urgency hit him all at once. “Wh-What are you doing?!” He blurted out, frazzled like someone had just slapped his back hard enough to dislodge a morsel of food stuck down his throat. Eyes darting from left to right, he looked for any passerby who might be of help. Streets empty at this hour of the day, Rean settled on rushing to his senior’s aid himself. “Y-You’ll get hurt!”

“Pssh. Chill out, man. You’re such a worrier. That can't be healthy.” He brushed him off matter-of-factly as he returned to cajoling the cat into coming closer by way of waving the toy around, its bell chiming. 

“Meow,” the cat said warily, the pupils of its round green eyes taking the form of slits as he took a measured step forward.

“Damn straight. Meow!” Crow’s grin widened with each of the cat’s steps. He shot Rean a self-satisfied look as if saying, See? Cats could never resist my charms.

It did little to appease Rean, who blanched further with each sway of the tree branch. What’s with this senior?! Every time they crossed paths, he was up to no good. What should he do? Sure, Rean’s arms were gifted with more strength than most thanks to his Eight Leaves training, but there was no way he could catch Crow if he fell. I see; he came to a decision. I’ll only catch the cat. Crow-senpai can handle himself. He thought, perhaps a bit bitterly. Crow had brought it upon himself.

“Be careful!” Rean shouted, at a loss for what else to do.

“Who are you, my mom?” Crow rebuked. The frightened cat, seeming to grow trust for him after several waves of the toy, skittered toward Crow, jumping into his arms. Victorious, Crow held the cat gently, throwing Rean a wink as he made his way down the tree.

But before relief could even properly lodge itself into Rean, the sharp sound of a plate crashing to the ground and breaking into pieces resounded from Kirsche’s. The cat bristled, hissing as it leaped out of Crow’s arms.

“Well, shit,” Crow cursed, almost casual, as he lost his balance, slipping down the tree like a sack of bricks. The cat followed closely behind him in his fall. 

“Oh no!” Rean cried out, any complaints he previously had disappearing from his tongue. He dashed over as fast as his legs could take him, his arms flailing frantically as he tried to catch them.

His arm strength failing him, the collision sent them both crashing to the ground. Crow fell on top of Rean with a grunt, the both of them a mess of tangled limbs in the middle of the street. Rean’s eyes snapped shut as he groaned in pain. In contrast to the disaster they found themselves in, the kitten landed on Crow’s head gracefully, light as a feather. The feline seemed content to stay there as it groomed itself without a care, licking its hind legs.

Crow hauled himself up, one arm on each side of Rean’s head as he stared down at him in dismay. “My bad. Guess you were right, huh?” He smiled guiltily. 

Not having quite decided if he was too angry to look Crow in the eye or too ashamed of his embarrassing failure to catch him instead, Rean kept his eyes closed. “Oh, really?” He said, unimpressed.

Crow snorted, the ghost of a breath tingling Rean’s skin. “Fine! I’m a dumbass."

Rean poked one eye open, lips curling into a smile. The light of the sunset gave an orange tint to Crow’s silver hair, Rean thought. “True.” He glanced at the cat, brows furrowing in worry. The cat laid curled up on top of Crow’s head like a sleek hat. “Is he okay?”

Crow looked up. “Oh, him?” He sat up properly, pulling the cat into his lap. “Heh. Little guy’s made of tougher stuff than this, y’know. No way this would get him down.” He grinned at the kitten, patting him softly. “Ain’t that right?”

“Meow,” the kitten responded, disinterested.

The tension left Rean’s shoulders at that. He reached out to pet the troublesome but lovable cat, giving him gentle scritches on the top of his head. He purred right away, his big green eyes looking up at Rean curiously with his mouth half open adorably, almost as if locked in a perpetual state of wonder.

Crow glared at the small animal in his lap, scandalized. “No purring for poor little me?! Traitor!”

The cat did not concern himself with Crow in the slightest, basking in the attention. Rean couldn’t help the chuckle escaping his throat. “Well, he seems to know to stay away from bad influences.”

Crow threw his hands up in surrender. “You got me.” Then, his face softened, adopting a degree of seriousness. “Thanks for the help. Did that hurt you any? Anywhere feeling funny? A limb or two out of place?”

“No, I’m alright.” He smiled quietly. “What about you, Crow-senpai?”

Crow squared his shoulders, pointing at himself with his thumb. “C’mon, man, it’s me. Do you even gotta ask?”

“I see. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked.” Rean retorted for a wholly different reason.

But Crow’s preening did not stop there. “And since I’m such a good senior, here’s your reward—"

“Are you giving me my money back?”

“A kiss!” He declared triumphantly.

“Wh-Wha—?!” Rean sputtered, retracting his hand from the cat’s fur. “H-Hold on—"

Crow grabbed the kitten’s little paw and placed it over Rean’s mouth. Very much not pleased, the cat complained loudly and wrung himself out of Crow’s hold, flitting down the street like a bullet cutting through the wind.

Chuckling, Crow rose to his feet, dusting off his pants. “A hero’s gotta kiss the princess’ hand, right? There ya have it.” With a whirl, he waved Rean goodbye with his back turned to him as he made his way back to the commoner’s dorm. The sound of his boots stepping against the stone streets grew fainter as the seconds ticked by in slow motion and the sky grew darker, heralding the coming of the night.

Stricken, Rean didn’t move a single rege from where he stood. 

Passersby looked down at him worriedly as Rean’s brain struggled to catch up with the reality of what had just transpired.

Rean blinked. Once, twice, slowly. Shyly, he placed a hand over his lips, trailing after the ghost of a touch.

Memories swept through his mind like a hurricane, uprooting everything inside it. He remembered the sound of Crow’s laugh, loud and unabashed, as if he were not the slightest bit ashamed of asserting his presence, wherever it might be. He remembered the perpetual curve of his smile that never seemed to leave or the way Crow carried himself, head held high in confidence that he could handle anything that came his way. That nothing was too big or dumb to try. Then, with a certain sense of finality, he remembered how, mere minutes prior, he had held the cat securely in his arms in a way that swore no risk of harm, but with a light enough hold that also promised the rescued animal a casual sort of freedom to act on its own terms.

The thought rose to his mind in tandem with the fall of the night: Crow was made up of all things that were so unlike Rean himself.

Blood rushed to his face at record speed.

The sound of Master Ka-fai’s rambling, Maple and Purple’s complaints, and his dad’s despair had grown faint in the back of his mind. A shallow echo of what once rang so loud in his ears.

Hey, Rean, is there anyone you like?

The timbre of Vivi's voice resounded instead, clear and vivid.

For the first time, when Rean thought of romance, he was able to imagine himself taking part in it.

He hid his face in his hands with a groan.

Daily life proceeded at much the same pace for Rean. Field studies, practical training, exams, requests, and the like. Despite the epiphany he had experienced, very little had changed, and what had was small enough that precious few would care to notice. It was in the way Rean’s gaze would linger a few beats longer at the sight of the object of his affections—always grinning, always up to one thing or another—with a reluctance to look away as if to preserve the gentle flutters of his heart and the warmth that took root in his chest and bloomed on his cheeks. It was in the place Rean’s thoughts had taken to wandering into while in the quiet of his own mind, a secret hideout only he knew about. It was comforting, almost, feeling something that was so uniquely his own.

This was one of such moments. Cutting quite the comical sight when contrasted with the serene lull of the library, was Crow, hands clasped in front of his face as he bargained with Karol, the librarian, in hushed tones. She stared him down with the same unmovable rigidity of the walls of Zender Gate, not allowing the enemy even a single rege of territory.

Rean’s eyes were drawn to the scene like Crow’s impassioned pleas for forgiveness and the slump of his shoulders when denied bore a strange kind of magnetism. The history book spread over the table in front of Rean now stood forgotten, left behind in the past like the events it described.

Following a flurry of apologies and promises to do better, the librarian all but kicked Crow out of the establishment, wagging a finger to the exit with the face of someone who never wanted to see such a terrible delinquent again in their lives. Crow scurried away; the conspiratorial grin of a criminal who was well aware of how much he could get away with danced on his lips. Rean did little to fight the slow smile forming, his expression impossibly fond as he watched Crow’s back growing smaller in the distance.

“Until when must I continue to be made witness to this aggravating dilly-dallying of yours?” The question was imbued with an edge fine enough to pierce through Rean’s daydreams with needle-like acuity. Jusis shot him a sidelong glance with eyes just as sharp, scoffing with the disdain Rean had come to understand as a thin veil to hide the kindness tucked away underneath.

Despite the trust he harbored for his dear friend, Rean winced as if he had been struck. “Sorry, Jusis, I guess I spaced out a little.” He scratched his cheek in embarrassment, focusing his attention back to the book as he flipped through its pages. “Where were we? Ah! Right, Saint-Arkh—"

“Forget that city, for Aidios’ sake and mine.” Jusis slammed the book shut, turning heads from other students. “It is within our duties as nobles to make proper use of the opportunities presented to us. Now, go.” The decree was firm with the authority befitting an Albarea as he motioned toward the exit with his chin.

“Haha, I’m not sure I follow.” Rean played dumb with a polite smile. How staunch he was in his stubbornness made way to an audacity that would send any commoner in the Kreuzen province into an early grave were they around to witness it.

“Hmph. Do you take us all for fools? Well, in the case of Regnitz, perhaps you would be correct.” He sneered, basking in the afterglow of a gratuitous jab that really had only been funny to his own ears. “As for myself, I’ve long since grown weary of this…” He trailed off, gesturing dismissively, “infatuation of yours. And even more so of your inability to act upon your wishes. I’m hardly the only one in the know, but the lot of them are too burdened by chronic consideration for you to say anything directly. Seeing as their nudges and words of advice seem to have flown right past your head and fallen into the borders of the Republic, the duty to put a stop to this farce falls upon my shoulders, lest we risk an international incident.”

Rean hung his head, fervently wishing the floorboards would open up and swallow him whole. “I’m so sorry for worrying everyone. Really, I am.” His head drooped even lower like a puppy who had just been scolded by its owner. Still, he insisted, “But I’m not planning on doing anything. I’m content everyday just by hanging out with you guys. Sure, the field studies aren’t always easy, and we don’t always get along… but it’s fulfilling, like we’re all working together toward something. Is it so bad wanting to focus on that?”

“Indeed, you are a lost cause. Nobody is telling you to pack your bags and feed your whole life to the dogs in favor of eloping with that second-year.” Jusis pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, clicking his tongue to illustrate the disbelief he felt at the choice of words wrung out of his mouth against his will. “We merely wish to see you, hopeless as you might be, take steps for yourself for once.”

Rean gaped at him open-mouthed, like Jusis had just told him a secret that could very well shake the foundations of the world.

“What?” Jusis spat, the silence flaking away at the last pillars of his patience.

“Nothing!” Rean corrected hurriedly, flinging his finger-spread hands between them to appease his anger. Then, he smiled, a tiny little curve of his lips that was hardly enough to express everything he felt. “I was just shocked, that’s all. I never thought I’d hear these words coming from you.” Rean’s eyes gleamed at him with unbridled joy, crinkling at the corners. “It makes me happier than you know. How could I ever repay you?”

Disarmed at the face of such overwhelming honesty, Jusis turned away with a scoff. “Hmph. Heeding my advice would be an excellent start.” He rose to his feet, the chair scraping against the floor. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Be well, and do not be foolish.” 

Book tucked under his arm, Jusis made for the exit with brisk steps. The regal poise he always donned, like a crown of everything he was meant to be, captured the eyes of everyone in the vicinity, difficult as it was to look elsewhere when faced with someone whose presence was destined to be bigger than themselves from the moment of their birth. But for Rean, who knew Jusis simply as his precious friend, it was the faint tinge of red at the tips of his ears that caught his attention instead.

Jusis really is kind, he thought, relishing in the gratefulness his words had left him with.

“Taking steps for myself,” Rean whispered hazily, the sound of the words ringing distantly in his own ears. The thought of it filled his chest with a complicated knot of feelings so tightly bound to one another he could no longer distinguish them. Rean could not say he had it in himself to do as Jusis wished him to. But perhaps, if doing so could put smiles on the faces of his loved ones, he owed it to them to try.

The days went by just as quickly as they came after that. Despite keeping Jusis’ words close to his heart, the hectic day-to-day saw that they slipped out of his mind nonetheless. Pinpricks of guilt tickled the back of his neck with each glare Jusis sent his way, but time continued to pass, and the situation remained unchanged. That is, until the fateful day Elise paid him a visit, they argued, and help came from the least expected of places.

Rean might not have been the one who approached Crow first, but they had gradually grown a little closer since then. Something teetering on the line between acquaintances and friends, not quite falling into either side.

But even taking the growing closeness into consideration, Crow still continued to find new ways to baffle him.

“Crow-senpai?!” He called out, confusion written all over his face as he stared at the object of his affections leading a horse—Whitcomb—to the academy.

“‘Sup, Rean-kouhai.” He greeted with a wave of his hand and a bag slung over his shoulder, horse in tow.

Crow strolled past the school gates while whistling a merry little tune, Whitcomb dutifully trailing after him as he was pulled along, kicking up dirt as his hooves clattered against the stone street. The normalcy inherent to it all gave Rean the distinct feeling that he was the odd one out. What was he even supposed to say in this situation? Just nod and smile, Rean. “I didn’t know you liked horses.” He settled with, nodding and smiling.

“Meh. I guess they’re alright.” Crow shrugged, undaunted by the great presence of the black horse behind him. “The bets, though, now we're talkin’—"

Whitcomb neighed furiously, then planted himself firmly in place as he turned his head sharply to the side, pulling the reins until the rope was taut and a strangled noise came out of Crow’s mouth.

Crow was pulled back with all the rage and vigor of a king slighted; the strength of the pull was devastating enough that Crow had been short of falling on his knees. “Sheesh! Moody today, are we? Lambert sure is spoilin’ the hell outta you. Dunno if that’s healthy.” He rubbed the back of his head, addressing the horse carefully. Rean wondered if it would be enough to appease a horse boasting of such regal bearings as Whitcomb. “Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. You’re a great horse with great legs and muscles and all that. Really sells this whole tough guy thing you've got going on. Bet the lady horses are all over ya.” He threw Whitcomb a wink while Rean struggled against his own growing disbelief. “We cool?”

Pleased, Whitcomb resumed his stride with proud steps. 

A handful of students stared at the pair, human and equine, in wonder. Some snickered, while others merely shook their heads, long since having become accustomed to whatever ludicrous activity Crow had been up to that day. Rean couldn’t blame them.

“Haha. I see. I’m quite fond of them, myself. Our family horse is called Arthur. When I was a kid, my dad would lift me up and let me ride around…” He trailed off as Crow took a measuring tape out of his bag and extended it toward Whitcomb, appraising the horse with thoughtful hums as he rubbed his chin. Alright, Rean was so curious he couldn’t take it anymore. “...What are you doing?”

“This, my cute little junior, is a free way ticket to a man’s dreams.” Crow responded resolutely, like this particular string of words was enough to make everything slot into place. It was not.

“A man’s dreams,” Rean echoed dully, eyes narrowing. He had a bad feeling about this.

“Yep. A man’s dreams!” He declared, puffing out his chest in a typical display of confidence nobody had ever been able to find the source of. “Heh. Just watch and learn, lil’ Rean; good Ol’ Crow here will be rolling in the dough before you know it.”

“And is Lambert-senpai aware you’ve roped his horse into some kind of gambling racket?” Rean crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at him in the reproachful manner a wife would address her good-for-nothing husband when he arrived home late at night in a drunken stupor and dozed off on the couch, stinking the house up with the smell of alcohol.

“Aw, c'mon. Cut me some slack! Who said anything about gambling?” Crow grumbled, his lower lip jutting out in a petty pout, swearing up and down he couldn’t possibly have drunk enough to warrant the accusation, and he hadn't been that late anyway, so why did that matter?

Whitcomb kicked up dirt, whipping him with his tail. Crow yelped in surprise, protecting his afflicted behind with both hands.

Rean put a hand to his chin, quite pleased. Lambert-senpai seems to have trained his horse well, he commended inside his mind.

With his own activities already taken care of for the day, Rean fell into pace with Crow and Whitcomb. The amused laughter and stares of the students leveled their way brought Rean a twist of embarrassment, but the strength of his curiosity overpowered it all. They made their way to the academy field, Rean doing his best to wring information out of Crow the best he could. Best to foil any schemes before they could take root. The short version, as Rean understood, was that Crow had been taking the horses out for walks on the request of Lambert whenever the club members were not available. Naturally, Crow had agreed with so much readiness that it would make any person raise a brow. In his own words, it was a unique opportunity to get a head start at future bets. Rean could not say he shared his excitement or even understood the logic.

Crow bid farewell to Whitcomb, closing the stable gates. Rean waited politely by the side until a drop of water over his head gave him a start. He looked up at the sky, reaching a hand out to better feel the wind as a couple more droplets wetted his outstretched palm, and frowned. Several dark clouds loomed dauntingly above them. “It’s drizzling.”

But the announcement did little to faze Crow, for his face broadened into a knowing grin as if he had been waiting for it all along. “Fret not, my dear junior. Naturally, I’m as well prepared as they come.” He fished an umbrella out of the bag slung over his shoulder, snapping it open with a flourish. The rain quickly thickened as he did so, splashing down hard over the cover of the umbrella. “See? Nice and dry.” He said in good cheer, urging Rean to take the umbrella off his hands.

“Huh?!” Rean sputtered, taking a step backward like Crow had brandished a weapon at him instead of an umbrella. “I-I can’t accept this. I’ll be just fine on my own.” He staunchly declined. The drops of water soaked his hair and clothes further, and a shiver ran down his spine as a gust of wind swept by them.

“I swear, you’re just like Towa. Way too serious for your own good.” Crow took an answering step forward, stubbornly dipping the umbrella over Rean’s head once more. “Look, how about this? If we squeeze together we can work something out.”

Rean gnawed at his bottom lip, shame and frustration pooling at the pit of his stomach as he clenched the fabric of his pants. They were both a long way off from their respective dorms, and Rean wasn’t so inclined to catch a cold, not wanting it to impact his field studies negatively. “...Okay.” He conceded, head drooping like a dog lost in the streets.

“Dude, it’s just an umbrella. Don’t go actin’ like you’re the source of all my misery. Cheer up, alright? C’mere, I got’cha.” Before the meaning of the words could even properly lodge itself in Rean’s brain, Crow was already slinging an arm around his waist, pulling him closer. A sound like a door creaking escaped Rean’s throat.

Their shoulders smashed together, and Rean could feel the warmth radiating from Crow’s skin. His train of thought screeched to a stop in the middle of his mental railroads. The umbrella wasn’t big enough to cover both of them, leaving the ends of their shoulders exposed to the rain. He glanced down at Crow’s hand on his waist with a strange sort of anticipation for something not even he knew about. “Sweet! See? Told you we’d fit, no problem. Now let’s get our asses back to the dorms before I gotta hear any whinin’.” He declared triumphantly, giving Rean’s waist a couple of pats for good measure before retracting his hand back to his side. Then, Crow pressed a palm against his brow like a visor, shielding his field of vision from who knows what as he squinted and marched on.

Rean jerked his head to the side with such impressive speed he could’ve sworn he heard a bone or two crack somewhere. His face was so hot; maybe he should offer himself as a portable orbal oven to the cooking club so Margarita could flip some pancakes laced with poison over his cheeks. What should he do? What should he even say? He needed to say something. The thought of bothering Crow more than he already had made his skin crawl.

“Hey, hey. Anybody home?” Crow gently knocked on Rean’s head rhythmically with his attempts to draw his attention.

“Ah,” Rean returned to his senses. “S-Sorry. Just didn’t get a lot of sleep yesterday. Haha. Shall we go?” He scratched his cheek in embarrassment, trudging his way through the field.

Crow regarded him suspiciously from the corner of his eye but did not pry. “You know it!” He winked, shifting the bag over his shoulder and giving him an encouraging thumbs up.

The rain thickened even more, the sound of it pounding down heavily against the dirt of the field drowned out the usual chatter of Thors’ daily life as if trapping the two of them on a deserted island. The sense of isolation did little to keep Rean's frantic thoughts at bay, mind racing and spinning in circles while going nowhere at all.

Sheer awkwardness permeated the air around them, and Rean could not bear to look Crow in the eye. Guilt tore him from the inside out, creeping over his shoulders like thorns puncturing his skin. He had ruined Crow’s day and forced him into such an awkward situation against his will. It was always like this; others went out of their way to compensate for Rean’s own failings, and he had nothing to give them back in return. 

“Um, Senpai,” he said, forcing the edges of his mouth up in a brittle smile. “Sorry. I’ll definitely repay you for your kindness someday.”

As if expecting it but nonetheless disappointed it had come at all, Crow groaned in frustration. “You idiot.” And flicked him in the forehead. 

“I-Idiot?!” Rean squeaked like a toy being squeezed.

“I’m the guy who owes everyone around here, y’know. That’s my whole thing. Can’t have you stealing it. And most of all,” he poked Rean's forehead with his index finger as if intent on drilling a hole through his skull by sheer will. Rean winced. “What kinda senior would I be,” and he poked it again. Another wince. Crow's hold on the umbrella swayed with each poke, water dribbling down around them. “If I couldn’t even take care of my juniors?” Bracing himself, Rean squeezed his eyes shut, but the last poke never came. Instead, Crow brought a hand to Rean's head and tousled his hair affectionately, his previous frown replaced by a reassuring smile. 

“You don't have to go that far.” Rean muttered through half-lidded eyes. Crow's fingers felt so gentle and warm that he had to fight the urge to doze off.

“It's no skin off my back, man. Gotta take special care of kids like you, bright-eyed and full of youthful optimism. Plus,” he stayed his hand abruptly, leaning over to whisper in Rean's ear. “You’re wide open.”

Rean nearly jumped out of his own skin.

Crow snickered.

Flustered and in a sour mood, Rean sulked like a petulant child. “Is messing with me that funny to you?”

“Heh. Who's messing with who? I'm just offering a piece of sage advice,” he defended himself, all grins. “Can’t have you getting scammed by some lowlife out there.”

Rean said dryly, “I wonder where said lowlife could be.”

Crow shrugged. “Beats me.”

They both burst into laughter then, the sound of it cutting through even the thick walls of the rain coming down around them.

Gratitude bloomed in Rean’s heart, completely overturning the guilt. His clarity of mind allowed him to take advantage of their close proximity to better take note of Crow; the other man had a strong physique and broad shoulders, yet was also light on his feet, none of which went unnoticed by the eyes of someone trained in martial arts. It was a suitable build for close-range melee combat, and yet, Crow wielded guns, Rean remembered. He wondered if Crow had experience with other types of weapons, and an embarrassing wish of wanting to see him in battle rose up in his mind. 

But just when he thought to ask, he noticed with stark clarity how soaked Crow's shoulder was in contrast to his own. It was then that he realized the trick pulled right under his nose; Crow had been sneakily moving the umbrella further into Rean’s side as they walked along, bit by bit so he wouldn’t notice. He glanced down his own shoulder with a wry smile. It was completely dry.

Rean wrapped a hand over Crow’s that held the umbrella, meaning to take hold of the object and guide the way. He's sneaky enough that guns aren't such a bad choice either, after all, he mused with a hint of amusement. Rean found that whatever had been clogging his throat and making it so hard to breathe had disappeared. He couldn’t even remember what he had been so hung up on, the situation feeling quite distant and silly to him now when faced with such a sly act of service that so firmly asked for nothing in return. “Crow-senpai, you really are amazing. You’re so carefree, it’s like you have nothing to worry about.” He said wistfully, opting against bringing Crow’s kindness to the limelight as a show of respect.

Crow looked at him in surprise, soon breaking into a grin and shaking his head fondly in exasperation at this cheeky junior. He conceded the umbrella to Rean in wordless understanding. “Hey, that’s rude. I’ve got lots on my mind all the time.”

“Oh, sorry. I spoke without thinking—"

“Like the summer races coming up!” Crow wiggled his brows at him, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “It’s hard work tryin’ to guess who’s gonna come out on top, lemme tell ya. Lots of things to factor in. Plus, competition gets so heated you end up breaking a sweat with the horses in solidarity.”

Rean deadpanned. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Speaking of breaking a sweat,” Then, Crow rummaged through his bag once more, whipping out a bottle of water from inside it. He pointed it to Rean. “Want some? We’ve been walking and talking for a while.”

“That’d be nice, thanks!” He accepted, lifting it to his mouth and drinking without a care, then handed it back to Crow.

“Cheers,” he said with a salute, taking a healthy swig out of the bottle.

And then it dawned on Rean, time seeming to slow considerably alongside the realization.

His eyes trailed after the rim of the bottle, sliding toward Crow’s jaw, to his mouth. The closeness allowed Rean to make out with stark clarity the muscles in his neck working as he gulped. His wet hair clung to the contours of his face, and drops of water dripped off its strands, rolling down his cheeks to the curve of his neck to his shoulder blades to down his chest. His inner shirt was soaked enough that its fabric had gained a translucent tint, accentuating the muscles on his chest and shoulders.

Rean swallowed in dry, gaze darting around everywhere in sheer panic. Still, it had been the rim of the water bottle that had ultimately conquered Rean’s attention at last. The rim of the water bottle that had been in his own mouth mere seconds ago.

Ah.

The rain had begun to clear out by now, but his heart nonetheless thundered inside his ribcage with the rage of a storm.

Trouble. Rean was in a lot of trouble.

To add insult to injury, Crow had joined Class VII a couple of weeks afterward alongside the girl they met in Nord, Millium.

It was easy to imagine how Rean had reacted then, and even easier to picture the warm glances and knowing smirks thrown his way that day when Crow introduced himself to the class. Even worse, Crow had moved into their dorms, conveniently stationed in the room directly across from Rean’s like it had been orchestrated by the hands of fate.

Suffice to say, Rean had been embarrassed. Very embarrassed. His classmates’ attitude did not help in the least. Even a blockhead like himself could not miss Elliot, Gaius, and Emma’s supportive remarks, seeming genuinely happy for him. Alisa and Machias looked ever so slightly taken aback, the disbelief in their eyes as if saying That’s your type? That guy? Really? He could not blame them, nor could he defend himself. Laura and Fie were the only ones who left Rean to his own devices. Consideration from the part of Laura, he assumed, and simple nonchalance from Fie’s, although she still sneaked a joke or two in every once in a while. Luckily, Millium had not been in on the running gag everyone had made out of Rean’s romantic life yet, but he did not doubt this peace would end sooner rather than later.

Jusis, however, had been the worst of them all. The sneering that was commonplace for him had doubled, and he had extended his teasing to Crow himself as well. To the uneducated in the ways of Jusis, there seemed nothing out of the ordinary about the jabs he took at Crow, but Rean had grown quite close to him throughout the year, and the underlying annoyance framing his words had been easy to spot. Crow, as he did with nearly everything, had taken it all in stride, which Rean was thankful for. Rean knew Jusis’ sourness came from a place of concern, so he opted to leave it alone.

The transfer was still new to everyone, so it fell on Rean’s shoulders, first and foremost, to deal with Crow on behalf of the others. An intermediary of sorts, until the initial awkwardness washed away. Naturally, Rean took his assigned role as seriously as he took everything he did. Which was very.

The aforementioned duty delegated Rean his present task: a search for his missing classmate who had conveniently skipped class for the day all the while the danger of not graduating loomed over his head. Rean’s legs took him all the way to the old schoolhouse, where he found Crow fast asleep on the bench nearby, hands clasped behind his head. Maybe he and Fie had talked about their favorite napping spots? The thought brought a smile to his face.

Full of mirth, he leaned over, studying Crow’s sleeping face. Perhaps it was a bit rude of him to stare like that while Crow was asleep— No, it was definitely really rude of him, but… He could allow himself this much, right? Just for a little while. He would properly apologize later if he ever found the courage to confess to what he had been doing in the first place.

Crow-senpai was cool even as he slept, but what caught Rean’s attention was simply how serene he was. The Crow in his imagination had been a messy sleeper, snoring and drooling over his pillow, but reality as he observed was quite different. The contrast between how unguarded he looked and his usually boisterous demeanor was a point of interest in its own right. Rean crouched down, staring intently. Crow’s bandana was a little crooked, and his silver hair was tousled by the wind in a way that was as charming as it was disarming. Their faces were so close Rean could count each of his eyelashes. His gaze was soon drawn to the shape of Crow's lips before long, and he eagerly imagined how it would feel like to be kissed by him or even— His eyes widened with a start, shaking his head to will the bad thoughts away.

To take his mind off of worse paths his mind seemed keen on wandering into, he took to brushing a couple of strands of Crow's hair back in place with his hand. Losing track of time, he became wrapped up in his own work, but the moment he hooked a finger through the bandana to adjust it—

Crow poked an eye open.

“Enjoying the view?” He teased, sounding immensely pleased with himself. It pissed Rean off far more than it would have if he hadn’t been right. “I know I’m hard to look away from, but aren’t you staring a bit too— Hey!” Feeling flustered and a bit petulant, he yanked the bandana down over Crow's eyes instead.

Rean sprang to his feet, cheeks dusted pink, and coughed into his hand in embarrassment as an attempt to clear it away. “Senpai, you skipped class again.” He accused instead, desperate to change the direction of the conversation.

Crow grumbled as he fixed his bandana himself, then leveled Rean with a stare he could only describe as belonging to a sulky child whose cool moment had been cut off prematurely. “Dude, didn’t I already tell you to just call me Crow? We’re classmates now; you don’t gotta be so stuffy around me. It’s just plain weird at this point.”

“Even if you say that, it’s not like it’s easy, you know.” Rean deflated. He had been slowly coming around the idea of having Crow nearby so often now, but to Rean, he was still Crow-senpai. It’s not like he could change it all of a sudden just because he was asked.

With a yawn, Crow stretched his arms above his head, back popping loudly. “Eh. I guess you’re just like that, huh.” He twisted his head around on his neck, also emitting a loud pop like his bones had been on the verge of collapse. “Kids these days. Always so serious.” Another yawn.

Rean said dryly, “How about being a bit more serious? I believe it would do wonders for an old man in danger of wasting away forever in his second year of high school.”

“Ouch. That one was just brutal.” He slumped his markedly sore shoulders, the very picture of misery. “Look, I’m gonna graduate, alright?”

“Really?” Rean crossed his arms over his chest, and unlike Crow, he was still young, and his limbs did not pop at the slightest hint of movement. “The days you bother to attend class, you’re out in seconds before the instructors can even say good morning.”

“But I’m still going, aren’t I?! Growing young men gotta catch plenty of sleep to get by, you know!” He shook his fist up at Rean like an enraged old man demanding the kids in front of his house shut up and go kick a ball somewhere else. 

“Now you’re young?” Rean cracked a smile, failing at maintaining his tone of admonishment.

“Young and sprightly.” Crow added with a resolute nod of his head.

Rean shook his head fondly, a clear expression that said What should I do with you? He elected to ignore Crow’s usual nonsense, cutting to the matter at hand. “Ah, that's right. Instructor Sara asked me to get you to—"

Emerging from a bush, a black shadow leaped into Crow’s lap before Rean could finish his sentence. It knocked the wind out of Crow, who staggered backward with a grunt.

“Whoa there, little guy. You’re getting fat. What are people feeding ya?” The cat hissed angrily in response but laid down on Crow’s lap nonetheless, making it a point not to move. Crow threw his head back with a laugh, hands planted firmly on the bench and uncharacteristically away from the cat.

The surprise Rean felt all but made Sara’s request slip out of his mind. It was the same black and white cat they had helped come down a tree months ago, sporting the same pair of round green eyes and half-open mouth in a dazed look that made him look like a cat an artist had hand-drawn. “Oh, he’s still around?” He asked, sitting down near Crow on the bench, their knees brushing.

“Looks like it. He's a stray, so everyone in Trista feeds him from time to time.” He rubbed the back of his neck with an exasperated expression as the cat demanded affection from him. “Weird thing is, he's taken to ambushing me a couple times since then. Follows me around and all that. It's a real pain having to shake him off every time.”

Ever the bleeding heart, Rean responded to the cat’s pleas instead, stroking his head softly. The cat let out a happy purr to signal Rean to continue his ministrations. “Haha. Maybe he just got attached to you. Where's the harm in keeping him?”

“I know I'm irresistible and all, but there's no way I can take on a cat.” Crow's shoulders sagged, and Rean could not even recall the last time he had seen Crow look so troubled. “I kinda feel bad for him.”

Rean’s mouth opened and shut once or twice. “Why?” He was unsure of what else to say.

“Hah. Do ya even need to ask?” Crow chuckled coldly, an ugly sound so unlike the warmth his laughter carried. “You should know I ain't gonna be around much longer. Makes me think I shouldn't have gotten involved. Woulda been easier on the little guy when I'm gone.” He kicked back in his seat, hands clasped behind his head in what Rean recognized as an attempt to mimic the levity with which Crow usually carried himself. But the distant look in his eyes, staring at somewhere up in the sky, gave him away.

A complicated feeling twisted and pulled at the back of Rean’s mind then, the familiar knot he did not dare untangle. The two of them sat side by side, but he had never felt more distant. It was almost as if Crow was looking right past him and at something Rean couldn't see, some place so far away he had no hope to reach.

But he was still here, he thought faintly.

Crow was still here.

“Don't just write off the time you spent together like that. Talking like it's some kind of inevitability,” he intoned each syllable like a curse cast with the intention of binding Crow in place. The sudden anger flaring from within made the words sound foreign even to his own ears, and he avoided Crow's face for fear of what he might see mirrored there. Said fear manifested in a rage that smouldered in sparks of fire. Memories of Elise's tear-stricken face burned at the edges of his mind, and he could no longer tell who was the person he was so mad at.

“Isn't it?” Crow argued back with a question that seemed more of a statement, one that had been buried under layers upon layers of frost. “What would you have me do? I'm not gonna stay in Trista after I graduate. Places to go, people to see.”

“That sounds like a bunch of excuses to me. It's not like you.” He fired back, scooping up the cat into his own lap instead. The animal protested but was quickly won over by Rean's effective caresses. He curled up on Rean’s lap without a care. “You're one of us now. A member of Thors’ Class VII. Who said you need to take care of the cat all by yourself? Rely on us." He brought the cat's paw to his classmate's mouth to return the kiss he had received that day, almost as his chosen way of calling out his name. “Crow.” He said at last, coating the name with enough fire to thaw out any ice.

Crow's eyes widened, his brows shooting all the way up to his hairline. A brief flare of heat crossed his expression, a small ember that was gone as quickly as it came. Even so, its warmth lingered, and he broke into a wry smile. “Damn, talk about a tongue lashing.” He barked out a laugh, a little embarrassed. “Fine, you win. Might as well take a card outta your rulebook and give some thought to this whole thing, eh?”

“You better follow through on your word.” Rean warned. The cat on his lap, half resigned to being handled like a plush toy, half simply enjoying Rean's caresses too much, barely even hissed in protest at the whole ordeal.

“Cross my heart." Crow pressed a hand against his chest, sitting ramrod straight in proper posture like a proper young man. “Now for the good part." And then that same young man was gone as Crow stretched out his hands, fingers wriggling like a perverted old man's. He took great pleasure in stroking the cat's belly to his heart's content, a deliberate attempt at disturbing the poor cat as much as possible.

Patience snapping by the grievous violation of a cat's most sacred place, a flurry of hateful meows and hisses followed. The cat batted the intruder's hand away, his tiny paw as mighty as the claw of a dragon. He clawed at Crow's face next, pulling down his bandana in one of his attempts at sinking his claws into his cheek, not satisfied until he traced red bloody lines all across skin.

“C'mon man, this again?” Crow lamented mid-dodge as his sight was plunged into darkness for the second time that day. “I didn't know the bandana was such a hit around here.”

Rean struggled against laughter. He could never tell if this cat loved Crow or hated him. Oh well, whichever of the two it was, Crow had brought it upon himself. 

Crow's impaired vision proved fruitful to the cat, who fulfilled his mission soon afterward. The pained shriek wrung out of Crow's mouth when pointy claws dug into his skin had become Rean's most cherished memory of that day.

After their involvement in settling Roer’s crisis on their latest field trip, they were awarded a couple days of break to pay a visit to Ymir. The trip had been nothing short of eventful with the appearance of an Ouroboros Enforcer and Rean’s confession to Class VII about the incident that defined his past, but it had also symbolized a significant turning point in Rean’s life, the reassurance his friends gave him effective enough that he had even been able to look toward the future.

The trip to Ymir, however, hadn’t been the end of Prince Olivert’s extravagance, who saw fit to gift them a trip all the way to the village of Elmo in Liberl as well. Rean couldn’t decide how to feel about being handed so many vacation trips one after the other, but everyone seemed eager to rest from their grueling rehearsals for the school festival.

And so, to Elmo they went.

Maple Leaf Inn was as cozy and warm as the people of Liberl. The innkeeper was gentle and showered them with utmost hospitality, urging the group to make use of the hot springs. Rean, the same fanatic as ever, rushed to get a soak in the famous open-air hot springs he’d heard so much about in the past. Some of the girls of Class VII opted for the gender-divided hot springs instead, too embarrassed for mixed bathing at the time, with a couple of others merely following them along in solidarity. The guys seemed to band together and prioritize the restaurant instead. That being the case, Crow alone followed Rean with a fond shake of his head while loudly claiming there’s nothing wrong with mixed bathing, girls! So clearly laced with ulterior motives that it had merely carved the girls’ decision further in stone.

Night had long since fallen as the two of them relaxed side by side, looking up at the stars dotting the black veil of the night sky. The moon shone all the more brightly for the lack of orbal lights around. Elmo was like a miniature garden, sealed away from the hustle and bustle of urban life. It was almost comforting how much it reminded Rean of Ymir. The warm waters lapped around their chests, their cheeks similarly flushed due to the pleasant heat. Rean heaved a sigh of contentment.

“Hey, Rean,” Crow began, a curious glint in his eyes. “I never got a chance to ask, but what’s with that scar of yours?” His gaze slid down to Rean’s chest with interest.

He wasn’t sure if it was the newfound pride and belonging he had found in being a part of Class VII or the characteristic feeling reminiscent of home that had emboldened him, but Rean’s tongue felt looser than usual, the weight of duty light on his shoulders. “Oh, this?” He looked down at the marking on his chest. “I have no clue. Probably some sort of birthmark? It’s been here since I remember.”

Crow rubbed his chin as he appraised the mark with the air of a connoisseur, humming in approval. “Gotta say, it’s a kickass birthmark if I’ve ever seen one. Makes you look hella tough.”

“Haha, thank you?” Rean responded with an awkward laugh, not sure of what else to say. “I've never thought of it like that, but Elliot said something similar to me before, so it must be true.”

“What the hell, is my word not enough to convince ya?” Crow’s brows creased in displeasure as he submerged half of his face underwater and blew bubbles childishly with his mouth.

Rean bit back a laugh in favor of teasing him further. He put a hand to his chin as if deep in thought, emanating the air of the holder of all the world’s wisdom. “I don’t know. My parents raised me to never trust shady-looking strangers.”

“You brat. Now you’ve done it!” He slung an arm over Rean’s shoulders with a battle cry, messing up his hair without mercy when he stroked his head.

Rean thrashed about, attempting to wrench himself free of Crow’s iron grip. “Let me go!” He demanded between the laughs, making sure to make it more a threat than a plea.

“Nah. You’ve gotten too cheeky lately; someone’s gotta serve ya your just desserts.”

Rean splashed him with water in response, like a child playing in a park after Sunday School. “I don’t want to hear that from you.”

“Oh-ho? So that’s how you wanna play. I get it. I’ll tell you what: I’m the king of water fights. The other kids used to shake in their boots just hearin’ my great name.” Crow drew himself up proudly, chest inflated so much that it was a wonder he didn’t float away like a balloon. He splashed water Rean’s way as an act of bitter vengeance.

Rean dodged the blow with a swift turn of his head thanks to the quick reflexes he had honed through his Eight Leaves training and soon began charging up an attack of his own. In stark contrast to the bloody war they waged against one another, Rean asked conversationally. “Ah, you’re from Ordis, right?”

Crow responded without missing a beat, head dipping low to avoid his own comeuppance. “Yep. Can’t say I’m too fond of the place, though.” He broke into a knowing grin. “Enough about that!” And splashed Rean with water once more.

As someone whose hometown was so close and dear to his heart, the declaration caught Rean off-guard, leaving him vulnerable to the full brunt of Crow’s attack.

“Ugh,” Rean groaned, hair now soaked. He took position like a soldier marching into battle to execute his counterattack in full power, but all his preparations were cut short the moment he felt the warmth of skin pressed against his front.

Crow stood in front of Rean, hand over Rean’s heart, his brows bunched together in a show of uncharacteristic severity as he fixed his gaze down on Rean’s chest. The touch was like a bucket of water dousing out a flame. Rean stilled then. “Crow?” He called out his name, looking up at him expectantly.

Rean became all too aware of how accelerated his own heartbeat had become, ringing so loud in his ears. He wondered if Crow could hear it too. 

“Was just curious how it felt,” Crow explained quite casually, but his wry smile still spoke of a hint of concern. A flash of something crossed his eyes, and then it was gone. Rean was not certain he had not imagined it. “Does it hurt?” He asked evenly.

The sight of Crow’s lips ensnared Rean’s attention more so than the words coming out of it, an array of memories rising up: tree branches, the sound of rain, a shared water bottle, lips stolen by a cat's paw. A series of events so mundane and unremarkable Rean was certain Crow had already forgotten about it all. The thought prickled his brain like an icy rivulet; he wondered if Crow had ever kissed anyone, the question binding his chest with a sense of loneliness. Of course he has; what am I even thinking? Rean had never been to Ordis, much less known him as a kid. Crow might have been his first love, but there was no doubt in his mind the sentiment didn’t go both ways. There were many people more important to Crow than Rean could ever hope to be. 

Ignoring the errant thoughts, Rean responded, making himself smaller. “No, not really. It’s just a birthmark; there's not much else to it.” 

“Eh, I guess. But you never know. Weirder shit's happened before,” Crow said, lips coiling in a smirk as he leaned closer in response, the tips of their noses touching.

But all he could think of as he stared at Crow’s deep red eyes, so close to his own now, was how he couldn't bring himself to be happy with just that. He wanted more. He wanted Crow. More and more and more of Crow until he was emptied out with nothing else left to give. Despite how sickened he felt by his own greed and perversity, his memories still spun freely in a frenzied whirlwind of longing: tree branches, the sound of rain, a shared water bottle, lips stolen by a cat's paw. Rean wanted it all.

Impatience coursed through his veins like a fast-acting sedative. Hurry, hurry. Rean vaguely understood that he had to do something before time ran out, but the finer details evaded him. He pressed onward with the foolhardy bravery of a soldier marching into a battlefield with no knowledge of what awaited ahead, moving much like a desperate fool who could only swing his sword down shadows. Rean took Crow's wrist in a vice grip. His classmate's face showed merely a hint of surprise, but the quickening of his pulse under Rean's hold betrayed what his face did not. Embers sparked from Crow's surprise, and they were more than enough to light the way ahead. “Crow, I—”

But his venture was cut off midsentence by the sound of a door swinging open. Jusis stood at the entrance of the hot springs, staring them down with the severe gaze of a parent rounding up a group of rowdy children. He regarded Rean while halfway through a sneer and an amused chuckle. “For someone raised in a hot springs town, you seem rather comfortable utterly trouncing all forms of basic bathing etiquette in one fell swoop.” 

The sedative wore off, and an astounding clarity of mind took its place. Rean wrenched himself away from Crow in a mad rush, giving him a hard shove. Crow slipped on his feet and fell down on his butt, splashing water everywhere as a string of colorful words left his lips. 

Only now having the full extent of his misbehavior catch up to Rean, he plopped back down with a splash, hiding his face in his hands. Jusis was right; Rean had pretty much acted like the worst kind of hot springs visitor. What would his parents think? “I'm so sorry.” He apologized with his head hung low like a proper and polite young man. Then, he added, “It’s Crow’s fault, though.” The young man of before had devolved into a sulky infant trying to wrest himself free of blame.

“Huh?! Lies and slander!” Crow jabbed an accusatory finger at Rean, ready to launch into his own defense. “Now listen here, you—”

Jusis raised a hand up, ordering them into silence. “Hmph. Spare me the idle chatter. I’m not daft enough to willingly insert myself in the middle of the intimacies of others. By all means, proceed. I shall make myself scarce.”

“I-It’s not like that!” Rean stammered, still reeling from the shame of the way he acted to muster the will to come up with a proper defense for himself.

“Aww, c’mon. Don’t be shy. There’s plenty of room for all of us.” Crow offered casually, hands clasped behind his head.

“It is about time you pair of fools graduated from your daily strolls through the garden of delusions.” Jusis scoffed, a tone of finality asserting itself in the strength of his cadence. He slammed the door shut.

And then there was silence.

A bird chirped somewhere.

The leaves rustled in the wind.

Rean coughed into his hand.

Crow leaned back against a rock nearby, decidedly making it not his problem. “I know he’s just like that, but damn, what got his panties in such a twist today?”

“Haha. That’s just the way he shows concern for us!” Rean defended, ever boasting of boundless will to come for the defense of his precious friends instead.

Crow gave him a disbelieving look, not quite convinced there was enough room for us in that claim. “I know you’re dense, but that’s next level.” He muttered under his breath.

“Did you say something?” Rean asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Naaah, you’re hearing things.” His lips coiled into one of those innocent smiles that just made him look all the more suspicious instead. He changed tack. “Aw man, Jusis really got this whole graceful noble thing down pat. How am I supposed to get a girl if that’s who I’m gonna have to go against? Hell, he might be worse than Gelica!”

Rean was bewildered. “True. Jusis always looks cool, and he can be pretty considerate once you get used to him.”

“Right?” Crow agreed readily. “He’d make a great partner for anyone, don’tcha think?”

Sometimes, Rean really had no idea how Crow’s head worked. He resigned himself to never knowing. “Umm… But I think you have a lot of good qualities too, Crow.”

“Hell yeah I do— Wait a minute, that’s not what this is about!” Crow slapped his face with the palm of his hand in frustration. “Geez. There’s really no saving you.”

“What do you mean?” Rean frowned as if he had been spoken to in a foreign tongue. “I'm serious, Crow. You might be a scammer, a slacker, a gambling addict, and in danger of not graduating high school, but—” he listed one by one, raising a finger as he brought forth each point.

“Seriously piling on the compliments today, aren’tcha? A couple more of those and you'll make poor little me blush.” Crow slumped his shoulders, playing the very part of a man who had drowned in abject misery and not lived to tell the tale.

“But,” he repeated for emphasis, refusing to break the flow just to appease Crow's whining, “you’re still kind, caring, and always looking out for us in the smallest ways when it counts the most. I feel safest when you’re around, watching my back. You’ve done so much for me that I could never—”

“Ugh! Stop, stop! I get it!” Crow covered his ears with his hands, springing to his feet in a hurry to distance himself from the horrible words. “Can’t you just keep on roasting me instead? I can’t deal with one of your speeches right now.”

Rean chuckled to himself. Maybe he had finally found a way of paying Crow back for all that past teasing. “I’m just saying what I really think.”

But Rean’s satisfaction had not lasted long, for Crow decided to change tactics. His frown soon turned into a smirk that screamed nothing good was to come. He lunged at Rean, making a grab for his towel.

Rean choked on his spit as he dodged at the last second, eyes going comically wide. “Wha—?!” He dearly thanked Master Ka-fai's training for his quick reflexes once again. Like when he had dumped Rean alone at Eisengard Range surrounded by monsters and left, or when Master had beaten him up so badly Rean had thrown up his lunch. He was really grateful he had a master who took such great care of him.

“What’s the problem, Rean?” Crow drawled, dragging out the vowels in the most annoying way he knew how. “C’mon, loosen up. It’s just us two guys in a hot spring; we gotta do as guys do and check who’s bigger.” He wiggled his fingers, adding an even though it’s obvious it will be me under his breath. “Off, off with it!”

Rean threw him the coldest glare he had ever given him. “It’s a good thing the girls kept away from you.”

Crow wheezed in laughter, finding great humor in himself even though no one else ever seemed to.

Thanks to Crow's knack for ruining everything that was nice and wholesome, they ended their hot springs soak on that wretched note—with no towels removed, mind you—, parting ways soon after.

Rean changed into the clothes the inn provided—loose and comfortable, just perfect after a good soak—, downing a cup of strawberry juice to cool down. He felt refreshed all around; the hot springs here really were state-of-the-art in everything. From the water itself to the service, environment, and food, he had no complaints. Full marks from him. Well, it still wasn’t as good as the Phoenix Wings, but then again, nothing ever was.

Before long, it was time for the group to retire to their rooms and get a good night’s sleep. They had booked four rooms total, two for the girls and two for the boys. The room was small but cozy and well ventilated, deserving of one of the best inns in Liberl. Rean made himself comfortable in his bed, head hitting the pillow with a sigh as he pulled the blanket up to his chin. Jusis and Machias had already done the same, tucked in comfortably in their respective beds. The only exception was Crow, who sat at the edge of his bed with a contemplative look on his face as he clutched his ARCUS, then strode toward the door, bag slung over his shoulder.

“Is something wrong?” Rean addressed it at once.

“Somethin’ came up with a friend of mine.” He sounded apologetic as he looked at Rean over his shoulder. “Sucks, but I gotta go back to Trista a bit earlier than you guys. You know how it is.”

“This late at night?!” Machias sat up and fumbled for his glasses on the nightstand, alarmed.

“Huh?! Is your friend okay? Do you need help? Should I go with you?” Rean lifted his head from the bed but was interrupted by Crow, who playfully pushed his head back down to the pillow with an exasperated sigh.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, ‘kay? Just leave it to reliable Ol’ Crow here. It’s nothin’ dangerous, just a small favor about the school festival, that’s all.” Crow replied reassuringly, giving Rean a thumbs up.

“Is Instructor Sara aware of your little escapade?” Jusis asked through half a glare, far less concerned than the other two appeared to be.

“Yep. Made sure to tell her. You think I’m that much of a delinquent?” Crow lamented. “I'm wounded.”

“It’s late. Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Rean’s brows furrowed with worry even so, an earnest plea in his eyes that would shatter the heart of any man.

“Sheesh. Don’t give me that look.” Crow grew frazzled, turning his head sharply to the side as he strode toward the door with hurried steps. “No way am I gonna mess up my junior’s vacation time with this stuff. I’ll text to let ya know I didn’t die on my way there, alright? Peace!” Then he rushed out of the room with such speed and urgency his sprint left a comical gust of wind and puffs of dust in its wake.

“Ah…” Rean reached out for him, then brought his hand back down to his side sadly. 

Machias pinched the bridge of his nose reproachfully as his former concern morphed into sympathy for Rean. “You worry far too much. He did that a couple times during our field study in Jurai. Turns out he was just out at some casino.” He adjusted his glasses over his nose with a finger.

“It still feels wrong to not help him, you know?” Rean flopped back down on the bed, his voice as feeble as a wilted flower.

“Hmph. I assure you, Rean, that a man as shrewd as Crow ought to know how to take care of himself without being babied at every turn. Of that much I’m certain, but you seem to fail to grasp the concept.” Jusis glared at Rean, intent on wilting that flower even further so it would learn its lesson. “I'm well aware this is simply a part of your personality, but are you aiming for a romantic relationship or a motherly one?”

Rean could not even muster the energy to be scandalized at the jab. “Oh, come on. That's not funny at all.”

“I hate to say, but I’m on Jusis’ side here.” Machias shook his head, crossing his arms with a peeved scowl. One would think Rean was getting scolded by his parents. “Well, it is a relief I won’t have to share rooms with the two of you. Rejoice. It’s quite the accomplishment to make me dread a prospect more than being near Jusis.”

Machias’ words struck him. “W-Why? Did I do something wrong?”

Jusis plowed ahead, sick of not being heard. “If being so wrapped up in one other to the point of driving all sentient beings in the vicinity to the throes of madness was punishable by law, I would make sure to contact the local authorities post haste.”

Machias corroborated Jusis’ words with a resolute nod of his head. “Do you have any idea how suffocating it is being near the two of you when you’re off to your own little world? I swear, I have seen actual couples behave more respectably.”

It was true that they had become much closer after Crow moved in. With the added convenience of having each other just across the hallway, they took to spending time together quite often in each other’s rooms. Planning the festival took most of their time, and Rean had to keep a tight rein on Crow's outfit designs to avoid anything inappropriate coming out of it. Sometimes, Crow would even enter his room without knocking and lounge about like he belonged there. However, in Rean’s perception, that had far more to do with Crow’s lack of manners rather than any kind of perceived closeness. He didn’t think there was anything that intimate about their interactions. It was just two friends hanging out.

A little disgruntled, Rean pulled the bed covers over his nose, sinking further into the secure embrace of the mattress. “You guys are just making fun of me. We aren’t like that.”

With quite the perturbed groan, Machias turned off the lights and deposited his glasses on his bedside table, plopping down the bed and sharply turning the other way. “It’s far too late at night to have this conversation. Goodnight, Rean.” He covered his entire head with the pillow as if it would shield him from any incoming headaches.

Machias’ childishness earned a rare chuckle in solidarity from Jusis, who laid down the bed in much the same manner. The pair seemed perfectly capable of putting aside their differences when united by the ultimate goal of criticizing Rean. He didn’t know how to feel about being told by Jusis and Machias, of all people, that being around him and Crow was unpleasant. It felt a little unfair, to be honest.

Rean tried following their example, but it was quickly proven futile as he wasted most of the night away rolling from one side of the bed to the other, as if the mattress were peppered with nails pricking Rean’s skin. How silent Elmo was at night would normally be a comfort to him, as it was reminiscent of Ymir, but it only made the thoughts ravaging the inside of Rean’s head scream all that much louder. He did not know how many hours he had spent in this predicament.

“Are you truly so worried about Crow that you cannot even bring yourself to sleep?” Jusis asked from the bed near his, staring pointedly at the ceiling in dull consternation.

It did not surprise Rean. “Haha, I had a feeling you were awake.” Rean laughed, remembering the night Jusis first confided in him months ago in Bareahard. Except this time, Machias really did seem to be deep asleep. “It’s not that I’m worried something will happen to him… How should I put this?” He brought a hand to his chin, his brow wrinkling with the effort of putting a name to a vague feeling. “It’s some kind of strange restlessness.” He remembered Crow's faraway glances, like he had only been among them in body while his mind resided elsewhere. Frustration welled up inside him.

Jusis gave a thoughtful nod. “His graduation, perhaps?”

“Maybe so.” Rean considered, then broke into nervous laughter. “Sorry. You must be sick of hearing about all this.”

“You fool. Have you already forgotten all that you learned? We will always be available to lend you our aid.” Jusis snapped, his regal cadence leaving no room for objection. “Whether your worries are big or small is of little consequence.”

“Jusis…” Rean called out his name fondly, chest bubbling with gratitude.

That seemed to please Jusis enough. Pragmatic and with no time for nonsense, he deemed fit to cut to the heart of the matter. He proposed grandly, “Well then, shall we devise an effective method of conveying your feelings to the man? It is the fastest strategy to put your worries to rest.”

Rean sputtered, eyes darting around everywhere. “U-Umm… I’m not sure that’d help anything.”

Jusis seemed to have so much ammunition at his perusal that he hardly knew what to respond with. “Do you fear his rejection? Nonsense. You are best putting a stop to such outlandish scenarios. Even a blind man would see that he—”

“Alright, alright. I get it! How about we go back to sleep?” Rean blurted out in a hurry as he hid under the sheets.

“I am merely teasing you.” Jusis smirked, self-important. Nonetheless, this was a topic he had a vested interest in, and he had much to say about it. “However, I am being truthful about my suggestion. Speak frankly to one another and express your feelings to him before his graduation. Whether he is agreeable to pursuing a romantic relationship or not is of little consequence. You should simply live your life in a way that will not leave you with lingering regrets.”

“Regrets, huh?” Rean repeated the word as his thoughts shaped around a new concept. Rean was being unusually timid. The high from earlier in the hot springs had all but evaporated, leaving him to clean out the remains. But if there was something the time spent in Thors had taught him was how inaction failed to solve anything. “I think I understand.” He chuckled, though it was strangled and soft. “Thank you, Jusis. You’ve always been here for me.”

“Hmph. Express your gratefulness to me after you have this entire debacle dealt with.” He rolled to the other side of the bed with a flourish, marking the end of that conversation.

Rean rolled onto his stomach, sinking his face into the pillow and allowing the gentle quiet of the night to lull him into sleep. He still wasn't sure if he could do anything for Crow. But whatever became of it, Crow was still a member of Class VII and one of his dear friends before all else. Whatever came, they would handle it together as a class. Thinking like that, it didn't seem so daunting and scary anymore.

Whatever weight the world threw over his shoulders, he knew with certainty that his friends would be by his side helping him carry it.

Rean straightened his shoulders and took a deep breath.

Then, he knocked on the door.

“Excuse me, Crow. Are you busy?” He called out, making sure no trace of nervousness remained in his tone.

A response came from the other side promptly. “Hah. I keep telling ya you don’t gotta knock. Come on in!” 

“Excuse me.” Rean strode forward with his head held high, ignoring the weight that dogged his every step.

The landscape of Crow’s room had hardly changed since the day he first moved in, and Rean had long grown used to every nook and cranny of the place. Flashy Hot-Shot posters adorned the walls alongside a dartboard; a couple of darts spilled out of their case near the radio at the top of a shelf. Crow sat cross-legged over the bed, its sheets sticking out of place ever so slightly, a pillow thrown over the mattress in disorder for no apparent reason other than disrupting the harmony of a well-made bed. In a similar fashion, his uniform’s jacket was on a hanger, slanted to the left. There was a sense of intentionality present at every corner of the room, as if the slight disarray of each item was in itself a ploy conjured as a show of a lived-in space, a calculated diversion meant to cover the trail of someone’s story.

But such observations never once took root in Rean, who interpreted things quite differently; the dartboard was chipped at the corners, and the paint of its darts faded slightly, both clearly well-loved, a testament to a passion for games of all kinds. The sheets, Rean had come to know, used to be a pair of hand-me-downs from Micht, sloppily stitched together down the middle in hopes of saving extra mira. Rean knew that a handful of trinkets and candy bars were perpetually stuffed inside the left pocket of the uniform's jacket, its weight tilting it down the side on the hanger. As if seeping out of the cracks left unchecked, a story was still told through a collection of all the small details that made up the person Crow was to Rean. And so, to him, he had never once regarded the warmth of this room as anything other than unmistakably Crow’s.

Regardless of his past or future and everything he didn’t yet know, what Rean was sure of was that he had fallen for the person right in front of him.

“What, you already here to collect that interest I owe?” Crow joked with arms clasped behind his head, a lopsided grin framing his lips.

“I’ll extend your grace period until graduation,” Rean conceded, recalling the events after the school festival. Rean schooled his expression, regarding Crow with a look of finely honed determination. An ominous feeling loomed over the country following the destruction of Garrelia Fortress, and now more than ever, he felt the need to untangle the knot in his chest at last. Tomorrow, Chancellor Gilliath Osborne would make the speech that would decide the fate of the Empire. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to speak to you.” He said, voice level, sweeping his clammy hands over his pants.

Sensing the change in mood, Crow gave a few beckoning pats to the mattress, urging Rean to sit, a wordless promise in his eyes to leave any troublesome things to him. “Who do I gotta kill? Leave it to your senior! I’m all ears.” He preened, puffing out his chest in one of the dramatized displays of confidence he was known for.

“Please don’t kill anyone,” Rean joked, sitting down near Crow. 

“No promises,” he sing-songed. 

They both chuckled.

“Umm…” He swallowed past the lump in his throat, eyes wandering all across the room as if seeking a way out. He ignored it. “I’m… really thankful for everything you’ve done for me this year. From all the advice you gave me, to helping Elise and keeping my secret until I was ready to talk about it. We haven’t always been particularly close, but I’ve…” He trailed off, unable to fight the quiver in his voice as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Ah. This is a little embarrassing, but I’ve liked you for a long time. …I felt like you needed to know.” A nervous laugh. “I hope you don’t hold it against me.” He added at the end, the words hinting at an earnest plea for Crow to not hate him.

A long silence followed. Shifting uncomfortably in the bed, Rean dared not to speak, much less look at Crow.

“Huh.” The sound came out a little dazed, like it had been out before Crow had the chance to rein it in. Crow’s brow twitched suddenly, the only acknowledgement of what he had blurted out. His mouth opened and shut once or twice. “You really have a knack for catching people off guard, let me tell you.” He said at last.

Rean scratched his cheek, boiling in his own embarrassment. “Haha. I’ve been hearing that a lot since coming to Thors.”

“Right? Man, you’re always a riot.” He nodded sagely. Another pause. Something seemed to sink in then, the cruel realization of there being no way out, and the temperature dropped several degrees. Crow chuckled then, a sound as icy and hollow as the bottom of a well. “I can’t say I feel the same. My bad. But hey, I’m flattered.” He shrugged like it didn’t concern him. “Why don’t you save those lines for some of the girls? Hell, even Jusis woulda been into it.” The rejection was handed out with the cold precision of a doctor opening an incision. The impersonality of it all startled Rean into silence, and he briefly wondered if each and every one of Crow’s smiles throughout the year had always been so clinical.

Rean pursed his lips, his eyes dampening into a mist of tears. He felt as if a blizzard had buried his heart in ice. But he shook his head, blinking it away. “I see. I'll keep it in mind.” He forced the corners of his mouth up into a small, brittle smile, one so frail a mere wisp of wind would be enough to bring it down. “That was a bit silly of me, wasn’t it? I should’ve known someone like me would never have gotten a different response.” He sprang to his feet in a hurry, like cornered prey struggling to flee. “I’m sorry for making things harder for you. Thank you for indulging my selfishness.” He bid Crow goodbye with a polite bow of his head.

Crow’s grin fell like a cracked mask. “What are you sorry for?” He asked through gritted teeth, his voice a hoarse and strained drawl like every syllable was a heavy weight shackling him down. His grip tightened into the fabric of his pants with such force it was a wonder it didn’t tear. “Don’t apologize to me.” He muttered angrily under his breath.

Rean raised his head, alarmed. “Crow?”

Crow pulled Rean by the wrist, caging him in by the shoulder forcefully as their chests collided. Then, he kissed him.

The kiss was frantic and full of teeth. Rean’s ears were ringing; the world had taken a hazy glow, the colors blurring together at the edge of his vision. He closed his eyes shut, hoping to escape to another place. The sensation of Crow’s lips felt far away like a chasm stretched between them, unsteadying Rean’s feet. And then it was over, as sudden as it had come, like the only intention behind the act had been to carve something into Rean.

When they separated, Rean stared as if under a spell. He swept the sleeve of his jacket over his mouth, cleaning away the last proof of whatever had just happened. Rean stared and stared, thinking if he just looked a bit harder, he would be able to make out the identity of the person standing in front of him, only for their image to twist into the distorted silhouette of a stranger the more the seconds ticked by. The cruel realization of how little he had really known sneaked up on him from behind. The classmate he had grown close to and this version of him split in two, the dissonance between reality and his own perception of it making way to a muted kind of anger that sank its teeth into his gut and burst through his chest.

A glint of something crossed Crow’s blank expression, and before he knew it, his mouth coiled into an easy smile once more, his hold on Rean’s wrist quivering slightly. “Oh damn, my bad.” His grin widened as his grip slackened. “Might’ve jumped the gun a little bit here, but take that as a lesson for the future, ‘kay? Don’t let down your guard so easily.” He winked as a farewell, the action an antithesis to the hand that still held onto Rean. “Now go use that move I just taught ya on some hot chick. That’s a trade secret, ya hear? Don’t waste it.”

Blinded by anger, it took Rean remarkable self control to not grab Crow by the collar and shake him until he snapped out of whatever had come over him. It had been a long time since he had felt so incensed, but he dared not prolong it.

Instead, Rean tore his hand away and walked out, slamming the door shut with enough force to make the sound of it echo through the walls of the dorm.

The Crow he knew would never talk like this, he decided haughtily, so it could only have been a lie.

The following day, he didn’t think much of Crow at all, effectively shutting it all away from his mind. He looked for him and Millium like nothing was wrong, going through the motions while focused on the future of the Empire. He had far more important matters to focus on than the small drama of his personal life. He wouldn't let something like this disrupt the group harmony of Class VII that they had worked so hard to accomplish.

That’s why, when Millium’s true purpose for joining the class came to light while the Chancellor began his speech and Crow was still nowhere to be found, he accepted the conclusion that should have been foregone with a brief but remarkable sense of calm. Puzzle pieces slotted into place, and Rean finally felt like everything made a bit more sense. He rushed to defend the academy with his friends from Class VII, intent on protecting what was so close and dear to his heart.

It was only after Scarlet’s Panzer Soldat lay defeated on the ground and a blue machine resembling Valimar emerged on the horizon that the dam broke, every grievance left unsaid flooding outward. Crow’s denial of their relationship only further flamed his anger, and he fought frantically, a question and a memory tangled inseparably at the edge of each of his blows.

He would never accept “C” as a real version of Crow.

A physique well suited for close combat, secret escapades in the middle of the night, his reluctance regarding the cat, his faraway gazes, the frantic kiss. Crow, why? The memories rose up and blared at him like a warning siren now that he had finally discovered the destination Crow strove toward. Tree branches, the sound of rain, a shared water bottle, lips stolen by a cat's paw—none of those things had the right to exist in the place Crow wanted to arrive at. It was simple, really. All Rean had to do was drag Crow back down somewhere kinder and more honest. Somewhere they could smile together again.

But the flame that had once burned so fiercely was soon extinguished by a mere sleight of hand. It was only after Rean lay defeated on the ground, a double saber pointed at his face, that the full brunt of a reality he had run from hit him squarely through the heart, making him acutely aware of how inadequate he really was.

His fate was sealed, the ending already set in stone before he had even begun. Rean cried out frantically as his friends scrambled to provide him a means of escape; how hoarse his voice had become served as a glaring reminder of what everything had amounted to. Bile gathered in his throat, sickened and angry at Crow, at himself. All his efforts before this point, all that he shared with Crow, felt like a distant story dreamed up by someone else.

Rean had always fallen short; not a noble by blood, not a commoner by law. Not heroic enough to protect, not monstrous enough to destroy. Too selfless to hold onto anything, too selfish to let go of anything. Perpetually teetering at the edge of a precipice, it were his own eyes that peered up at him from below, impatiently wishing for the day he fell down.

How stupid of him to think he had the strength to change anything.

Rean had always done too little, too late.