Chapter Text
The alarm clock shrieked loudly, ripping Reo from a sweet slumber, signaling the start of another loveless day that was stretching into another loveless week, buried in yet another loveless month which was part of another loveless year. It was a relentless chain of events that didn’t seem to reach the finish line.
He had dreamed of that undistinguished silhouette again, a nameless beloved with an unrecognizable, blurry face. All he could remember every single time he woke up were gentle eyes looking up at him, and his own fingers raking through white locks. He could not recall the shape or color of that boy’s eyes, but their softness seeped right into his heart.
The boy from his dreams who was always laying down on his thighs carried luminous starlight in his hair, but that radiant glow shone so brightly that it refused to allow the rest of him to take shape. Whenever Reo tried to look at his face, or reach for anything beyond his hair, the boy would dissolve like stardust, leaving behind specks of hope that fluttered near Reo, flapping their wings to tempt him to chase them. But no matter how fast he ran, desperately clutching at them, that boy was beyond this realm, a faceless angel visiting him through intervals of time and space.
Sigh.
Reo Mikage had foolishly hoped that after years, fate would let him meet the person who would stir his soul and set it ablaze, but it was the second year at university already, and the directors of his life were deaf to those pleas. Maybe they even laughed a little amongst themselves in some celestial control room, mocking this desire. What a joke, a boring endless joke.
Perhaps love was not meant for him. Everyone saw money and status, no one was worth dating. Everything was dull.
It’s not like he was completely alone. He loved his roommates. The three of them lived together in this apartment near campus, a simple life away from home for a little taste of freedom, but something was always missing…something or someone; someone who spoke the twin language of his soul. But that person may not exist, so his brain compensated for it in those sweet dreams. Dreams were, afterall, merely dreams. There was nothing to gain from dwelling on them.
Still, his train of thought seemed to always stall at this stop, and he would find himself smiling at the thought of his lover that could only visit him during those cherished suspended hours, the interlude he desired to abide in, but no matter how much it dragged and dallied, the show must go on, and the delayed train needs to take its course into the unavoidable dull destination, the waking world.
He huffed, rubbing his eyes as he rose out of bed, refusing to let time conspire and hold him captive. The loneliness lurking in the shadows of his days was still his, a part of his reality that he would master, control and eliminate, facing it with his head held high instead of sheltering in dreams.
One day, the world won’t feel so boring anymore.
One day, I’ll be as happy as I am successful.
One day, my soul will feel complete.
He stepped out of his room, pausing at the doorway, shoulder leaning lightly against the frame as he watched his friends for a moment.
Chigiri sat on the floor, comfortably nestled between Kunigami’s legs. Kunigami’s fingers moved gently through the crimson strands as he styled his boyfriend’s hair for the day.
“Good mornin’ Reo,” Kunigami greeted him without glancing up, too absorbed in their usual intimate morning routine.
“Yo,” Chigiri added, humming softly as he relished in the comfort of Kunigami’s touch. He then tilted his head slightly to look at Reo, “slept well?”
“Yeah,” Reo replied, straightening up and heading towards them, “you wanna glide down from your cloud of romance and hang down here?” He grinned, flopping down onto the sofa.
“Nah,” Chigiri said, leaning back to rest against Kunigami’s thigh, “aw don’t worry you’ll find someone,” he teased, using the exaggerated voice of pity he knew Reo hated.
“Ha-ha,” Reo rolled his eyes, “I’m the Reo Mikage, I know I will.”
“Yeah probably,” Chigiri continued, “your idea of date talk is discussing the stock market, your chances are slim without a romantic bone in your body.”
“Hey now!” Reo sat up, tone colored with an edge of defensiveness, “I’m romantic. I simply haven’t met the person worthy of being romantic for, gotta reserve it for them.”
“Your standards are too high,” Kunigami chimed in, “not saying it’s a bad thing.”
“Mhm,” Reo hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. So what if his standards were high? It wasn’t his fault everyone who had tried to approach him was shallow. He could easily get anything he wanted, and what he wanted was someone genuine, someone worthy..a treasure to hold dear, not someone who only saw him through gold-tinted glasses, quite literally: only seeing the Mikage fortune.
Searching for genuine happiness in this looking-glass world was no easy endeavor. Though for Reo, the mirror-like, distorted love flocked towards him like moths to a flame. He couldn’t bother sparing it a glance. He wanted to look into the eyes of something meaningful, something real.
–
The alarm clock was an enemy, always forcing Nagi to wake up into another hassle-filled day, multiplying to fill up a week, a month, a year; always the same type of endless days blurring together into one hassle-filled blob called life.
What a pain.
Why do we need to wake up and go to university? Why are there so many rules governing life? Why do we have needs, get hungry, do anything..
Nagi thought daily as soon as he opened his eyes. Lately though, another question sneaked its way through, settling among his thoughts whether he liked it or not: why was I dreaming of pretty, violet eyes that engulf me with the warmth of the sun?
For an inexplicable reason, he had been dreaming of a sunlit garden blooming with beautiful purple lilies. Birds chirped above, dancing in the cloudless sky to their melodies of glee. Even in this other realm beyond reality, Nagi could sense the streaks of warmth caressing his skin, gentle fingers fondling his hair, and the softness of the plump pillow cradling his head.
But when his eyes fluttered open within the dream, he realized that the pillow was someone’s thighs, skin so soft he could sink into it and never leave, desiring to nuzzle his cheek against it and melt into it to become one with this angelic being. When he looked up, there was no sunlight, all he could see was violet eyes beaming at him, looking at him like he was someone worthy of their light. He could not see the boy’s face, but the seraphic serenity of his spirit settled deep into his heart. No wonder there was no sun, Nagi thought, for how could it ever hold a candle to such ethereal light?
Warmth aside, Nagi couldn’t comprehend why he was dreaming about this blurryfaced, purple-eyed boy. He hardly ever cared enough to think about falling in love. On the contrary, he recoiled from it. To him, love wasn’t real. He didn’t understand it, and he didn’t desire to. If love was real, then his parents wouldn’t have separated after years of being together. What was the point of all those days wasted on something that was going to fade into obscurity, like it never existed.
Even the two people who had brought him into this world never once held him affectionately, never once came back to ask about him, never once glanced back to see how the four year old boy they left behind was managing. They left him with his aunt and disappeared. Either love wasn’t real, or he was cursed enough to end his parents’ love from the minute he was born. Whatever it was, it was a pain to think of. Why did anyone ever bother with love, or anything? Why did they try so hard? It was a hassle that he didn’t need. His subconscious was being a pain by painting that picture in his inward eye.
Unfortunately for him, it was not like he could hide away from endless discussions of love, feelings, and all that he could not quite comprehend. He was studying English Literature, a choice he made without quite understanding what he was getting himself into. Almost every single writer and poet was obsessed with dissecting the joys and miseries of love, weaving endless paragraphs and verses about longing and despair. There were endless works revolving around the sweetness of togetherness and the heartbreak of lovers torn apart.
The worst part was his professors’ expectations of students, especially him for some reason, wanting them to care about all those topics and write about them. Every single professor had told him different variations of the same thing, “your writing is excellent, but it lacks feelings,” “put a little more heart into it,” “do you understand what the author is saying here,” and endless more feedback he could not care less about. Why should I understand and care about anything? Just give me a grade based on the writing you describe as “genius” and move on. So what if it lacked feelings, who cares?
What stuck with him most were Professor Maruki’s words in particular. Professor Maruki, more like Professor Bothersome, taught him some poetry classes, and this semester he was also teaching creative writing. Unlike many other professors who lectured and left, he sure loved to meddle and open class discussions. And to Nagi’s misfortune, he seemed to take an interest in him. “You’ve got quite a unique talent,” he had said, “you have the skills to be a good writer, but not the heart. Your writing is genius, but somewhat lacks soul.”
When he heard that, Nagi was almost offended. What did ‘lacks soul’ even mean? He was a human with a soul like any other; he simply did not care about those ‘feelings’. He just wanted to exist, play video games, and avoid hassles as much as possible. If his writing was good enough to get passing grades, why did anything else matter? Why should he wear his heart on his sleeve like those in the walks of literature? He wasn’t them, nor did he want to be. Those characters who gave it their all, who worshiped love and died for it..they felt too deeply, and feelings were a hassle. Even the poets who always wrote about others..why bother? It was all too meaningless to give a damn about.
Just let me exist in peace…
He yawned, forcing himself out of bed while mentally preparing himself to deal with the first Professor Bothersome class of this semester.
**
“Good morning class,” Maruki greeted them as he entered, setting his laptop on the desk, “up, Nagi.”
Did Professor Bothersome and I have some unavenged mortal feud in the past life? Nagi sighed, hoisting himself off the desk and sitting properly. What’s his deal..other professors don’t care if I sleep..well, mostly. It’s university..no one cares..
“No sleeping,” Maruki said with a slight grin, like he found Nagi amusing, “it’s the first session, at least wake up for that.”
Maruki then delved into the basics of creative writing, and Nagi learned that he can fall asleep with his eyes open, barely processing a word that was being said. Who cares, creative writing was still writing, I’ll wing it like everything else..
“And, we see that the key to creative writing is deeply rooted within the show and not tell method,” Maruki continued, “I believe you all know what that is by now..still, I’ll give an example. I could say ‘Nagi was bored, not caring one bit about this class,’ that’d be the telling method. However, if I say ‘Nagi yawned, head glued to his desk and mind flying away, each flutter of wings carrying it further away from the useless words his professor was uttering. He could not tell when one sentence ended and the other began, for they were all blending into one blurred bubble of babbling’ then that’d be showing he was bored without saying it directly.”
Nagi could hear some of his classmates chuckle. Well, they were six at best in the classroom anyway. Making an example out of me now…what a pain…Maybe I’ll show-not-tell you how little I care about every single thing in this major.
Maruki droned on through the slides, each blurring into the next, and Nagi survived by thinking of the video game he would play later. Gotta aim for a new highscore..
Somehow, his mind found enough liberty to roam freely and the minutes slipped by until class was almost over. Hearing Maruki’s “and that’s a wrap” snapped him back to reality, but before he could even think about standing up, Maruki stopped them with a “hold on a moment please.”
Nagi sank back down with an internal sigh, hugging his elbows and leaning into his desk, eyes shooting up to look at Maruki.
“This course isn’t as important as the other main language and literature courses, but we will still have assignments..Instead of a final exam, I have permission, for this course, to do my own final grade, since it is writing and not a topic to be examined in.” He stood in the middle of the classroom, eying Nagi specifically, “you will be graded based on the writings we will work on through the months, and the most important piece is due at the end of semester. You will..write as a bird.”
“A bird?” One of the classmates, Chigiri, asked. Nagi had memorized his voice. He was the only one who always greeted him after all.
Maruki nodded, “you will think from the perspective of a bird, and what that bird does..is up to you. Write a short story, a poem, a play..whatever your heart desires, as long as it is from the point of view of a bird. Fly freely,” he grinned, seemingly proud of himself for the pun.
When they were finally dismissed, Nagi jumped up, ready to get out of there like a bird set free. Maybe that should be my story, a bird escaping Professor Bothersome.
“Nagi,” Maruki called for him. Even when everyone left, he was still not free. Ah, what a pain..
“Yes professor?” Nagi turned around begrudgingly.
“Do you have a minute to talk?” He asked, wearing his usual smile that Nagi could never decipher. Was it pity, understanding? Just a regular jolly smile? He didn’t care enough to analyze it.
“Fine…”
Maruki chuckled at Nagi’s forced “fine”, putting his laptop away while speaking, “do you like the theme for the assignment?”
Hm..why does he care if I like it?
“I..don’t really care,” Nagi answered honestly, “They’re all the same to me..Just do a decent job, pass every class, write what is required to be written..until you graduate, right?”
Maruki nodded intently, “that’s how you see it..sure, why not. May I ask, why don’t you care?”
“Cause it’s a bother,” Nagi answered matter-of-factly, “it doesn’t really matter, and I don’t get it. Why do all those authors and poets feel everything so deeply? Why do they put so much effort in their words..in their emotions? Why do they try so hard..and why are so many of them so obsessed with love?”
Maruki stood there quietly, listening to Nagi who continued to wonder about things that he didn’t really want an answer to, “all feelings are the same..a hassle. And love is something temporary, there for a moment then gone forever, yet all those literature people go to such great lengths for it, to describe it, to think and talk about it, about those feelings. I don’t get it, and I don’t really want to get it..That’s why I don’t care about it.”
Maruki nodded in understanding, keeping his own thoughts in check until Nagi finished, “you know, Percy Shelley had said ‘poetry lifts the veil from the hidden beauty of the world.’ Life can be..pretty bothersome, huh? But, that’s why poets feel so strongly, to challenge the mundane, to see beauty in everything, to exist in passion and to pursue it, to fall in love with everything. When the world gets..too bothersome, I find comfort in those artists who make it easier to bear. Sometimes..we can’t quite love art if we don’t have our own muse in life. Someone who would make you understand why John Keats writes all those letters and poems, why Orpheus turns around..”
I don’t want to understand..I want to sleep, set me free..
Nagi groaned inwardly, half-listening and hoping Professor Bothersome would finally let him go.
“Say, Nagi, remember the sonnets we studied last year, Astrophil and Stella?”
“Not really.”
Maruki chuckled again, “Astrophil, the star lover, and Stella..the star..” He paused for a moment before continuing, “perhaps what you need to be like Astrophil, to read and write about feelings..is your own star..”
He then stopped, realizing he’s dipping in personal waters, “heh, I’m prying again, aren’t I? Sorry about that,” he slung his bag over his shoulder, giving Nagi one final glance, “go on then..Remember to soar like a bird in your assignment.”
And Nagi didn’t need to be told twice, soaring like a bird right out of that classroom.
–
April breathed sweetness and life into everything around Reo as he walked to the coffee shop near campus. Everything was bright, blue and blooming..no rain yet. Barn sparrows twittered, dancing among the white puffed clouds gliding above. A new semester, a new April, a new spring that would perhaps water flowers in this empty space he could never quite fill with anything.
Or not.
April was ever-changing, but so was he. Whatever it was, be it the sudden cold rain or the spirit of serenity, he would manage like he did last April, and every April before that, be his own spring, let those flowers emerge from within, and one day they will overfill the garden until the hollowness disappears completely.
He breathed in the loveliness around him one more time before opening the door and walking into the coffee shop. The little bell rang above the door, signalling a new customer. It was a pretty cute detail, he thought. Everything about this coffee shop was adorable, the postcards and artworks hanging on the wall, the flowers adorning the windowsills, the pastel hues all around. Chigiri discovered this comfortable, cozy place last year, and so it became their hangout spot whenever they had a break at the same time.
He peered into the area until he spotted them, Chigiri working on his laptop and Kunigami playing with his hair. He chuckled, walking towards them, “hey hero, let him write.”
“He’s not distracted, yet,” Kunigami replied.
Reo hummed, sinking down onto the sofa next to them, “I’ll be late to come home today, will be with the swimming circle.”
“How do you have the energy for all these circles man,” Chigiri commented, not looking up from his laptop.
“It’s good to keep busy,” Reo said, watching Chigiri stare at his screen. “What are you so absorbed in?”
“Birds.” Chigiri replied without further elaboration.
Kunigami chuckled at Reo’s confused expression, stroking Chigiri’s hair one last time before leaning against the backrest, “his professor assigned them this uh, interesting task, to write something from the point of view of a bird, so Chigiri is transforming.”
“A bird huh,” Reo hummed, pausing for a moment. If I were a bird…
His thought flew away at the chime of the bell. He glanced up, watching a tall boy in a black hoodie slip into the coffee shop like a ghost, half-asleep and eyes holding a staring contest with the floor, refusing to be seen by anyone in the room. But, Chigiri saw him, waving a small hello. At that, the boy looked up slightly, quickly waving back before retreating to the farthest corner and taking shelter there, like everyone else in the coffee shop was to be avoided. He sat down and began to write on his laptop, in his own little bubble.
“Who’s that?” Reo asked, curiously watching the boy. He couldn’t quite see his face, and his body slumped down as he pressed his laptop’s keys. He was like a shadow lurking in the corner, invisible to everyone but Reo who kept watching him.
“Him?” Chigiri asked, looking up to glance at Nagi, “that’s Seishiro Nagi, my classmate. Us English Lit students take all our major classes together so I see him all the time there, since there’s like..six of us at best in this university.”
“Well that’s cause-,” Kunigami started, but didn’t get to finish after earning a playful elbow to his side from his boyfriend.
“Hush now,” Chigiri scoffed, “I don’t wanna hear it from Mr. Finance and Mr. Law again.” He took a sip from his coffee before continuing, “anyway, this is quite rare..a Nagi sighting outside the classroom.”
Reo eyed Nagi curiously, gaze unwavering, but Nagi didn’t seem to feel its power, typing away, “is he the shy type?”
“I genuinely do not know anything about the boy,” Chigiri replied, eyebrows knit in frustration targeted at the bird story, “dammit, how do I even start this..”
“It’s not due till the end of the semester,” Kunigami said in an attempt to comfort him, “relax..you’ll figure it out.
“I bet the genius isn’t struggling one bit..look at him type away,” Chigiri looked at Nagi in slight admiration, “he’s quite the puzzle, very impressive.”
“Puzzle?” Reo’s interest piqued again, “how so?”
“He’s very smart..somehow. He never speaks, sleeps through the lectures, yet always scores the highest grades. Though Professor Maruki said his writing is soulless.”
“A lazy genius huh..?” A grin ghosted his lips unconsciously as his eyes could not bring themselves to look away from the ‘writer’, “and that was kinda mean, what did he mean by soulless?”
“I dunno, I guess Nagi doesn’t really write out of..his will. Most of our professors describe his writing as genius but void of feelings, and soul or whatever,” Chigiri continued to speak, eyes glued to his laptop, “dunno if he has no feelings or chooses not to share them. He literally never lets anybody in, never speaks..describes everything as a hassle or a pain. I tried to speak to him a few times, but well..he makes it impossible to get close to him, so I gave up.”
“Impossible huh,” Reo’s grin was glued to his face, watching the “soulless” genius, or so they called him. Chigiri’s words summoned a swarm of persistent thoughts to crowd his brain, prompting him to enter that strange boy’s shielded inner world, “I bet I could change that.”
“Yeah sure, why not,” Chigiri said as continued to glare at his laptop. Reo figured he was most likely being sarcastic, or not..but either way, it didn’t matter. Whenever his mind landed on something, nothing could drag it away until the goal was finished, and right now, the first step was to knock on the door..
He tried to distract himself, chatting with his friends, drinking his coffee, but curiosity, that relentless spirit of inquiry, did not intend to let him go. A while later, he rose from the sofa, heading towards his mission, “I want to talk to him..”
“Hm,” Chigiri looked up at him, almost grinning, “go ahead then, and don’t be offended when he calls you bothersome.”
“I don’t believe anyone has ‘no soul’ or zero emotions,” Reo said, turning around to see that Nagi was in quite the deep sleep, head resting against the table and cradled between his arms, his laptop left wide open in front of him. “..Seriously?”
Chigiri chuckled, “sounds about right. That’s how he’s like in class too.”
“He’s really fast asleep huh..Well..won’t hurt to take a little peek..”
With careful, steady steps, he approached Nagi’s table. Nagi still slept, like a little bird in his cage, and Reo wanted to tap on it, to stir that bird awake..
But for now, he walked ahead, standing behind him. Are you truly so “soulless?”
He knew he shouldn’t, but that demanding curiosity gripped all of his senses, and yielding to that impulse, his eyes landed on the screen, where many paragraphs were already written..He stood close by, silently scrolling through the document:
Once upon a time, a little lone, silver bird watched the world flow by from the comfort of his brittle branch, all alone without a nest. Mama Bird had flown far away, swallowed by the silvery beams of the moon and stars. It was a cloudy night, so the baby bird waited till morrow, for surely once the foginess fades, Mama Bird would find her way back, and his songs would guide her home.
It was quite cold..where is Mama? Need to sleep..nestled under her wings..
The night was long, and the wind howled and tore through the skies, unmerciful to the trees and the birds who called them home. The silver bird twittered and chimed, voice growing fainter under the cold’s might but still persistent. I can’t stop singing..Mama Bird might not see me..but she will hear me..
Melodies twirled with moonlight as the silver bird weaved songs of glee with his threads of hope, that joyful voice perched in his little heart, calling for the sky above. Feathers fluttered and froze, but the longing warmed him. He sang till dawn, waking the world with his tunes.
By morning, the bird’s singing had faded with the sunrise. The luminous golden eye of heaven rose, spreading happiness across the sky, and all the birds who flew towards it were chirping merrily. But the eye noticed that one broken bird, too small to be alone on that branch. It could not do anything but watch him, and its pity burned his wings as its flames absorbed the embers of his voice to strengthen its fire and warm him. The little bird never sang anymore, for he knew, Mama Bird was not coming back. She flew away, tunes trailing after her and farther away from him.
It’s okay..singing was a hassle anyway. I’ll make my own nest, and sleep comfortably here..Maybe one day, she will come home…Maybe not. It doesn’t matter.
Nothing did.
And so the little bird grew up alone on those high branches, watching the days melt into each other, slipping from one month to another, from one year to the other.
Everything blended together into a soundless symphony as the bird slept on his branch. Whenever it became too frail to hold him, he soared silently in the shadows from one branch to another, sheltering in makeshift homes, keeping himself warm and finding food to eat. It was a pain…all those necessary survival habits that formed his routines.
Sometimes, he listened to the songs of the other birds and wondered what secrets were they sharing with the sky..why did they sing so much? What was there..to be so chirpy about?
How loud…what a pain.
The one thing that wasn’t a pain was the sun spilling golden urns into the world, shading it with warmth and giving the air soft kisses every day, like a loyal lover. If there was one thing he could count on in this fabricated world, it was that one truth: the perpetual promise of light, and that my feathers will be caressed by its gentle glimmer.
But outside the sun’s fortress, a dreary, desolate and despicable world reigned. Darkness laid its cold hands upon hearts, erasing traces of delicate love, making Mama Birds fly away…
It spurred the little bird to pause his empty daydreams sometimes and wonder, was there any droplet of love? Any drizzle of affection in those gardens and skies? Or were the birds soaring through feigned, fragile joy, and the people building castles with bricks of perfidy and deceit?
Hm..whatever they do doesn’t matter..I am comfortable where I am..I have no desire to fly in such a world. I’ll stay here, allied to comfort, underneath the golden rays..
But one day, the sun was battling ferocious gloom, and the bird’s tree was destroyed by the mightiest winds. Storms broke under the bleak skies, and the snow blanketed everything in sight. Frozen and forlorn, the bird closed his eyes, burrowed into the white sheets, “ahh..if only..I could be warm..” He chirped weakly.
Somehow, the universe heard his plea, and the next thing he knew, he woke up in a golden cage, settled safely on a table near the window. The sun was back, seeping through the curtains. “Wow..how nice..”
The bird didn’t know the owner of this cage, but he knew that there was nourishment and toys for entertainment, everything he needed..The door was always open, allowing him to fly freely…
But, why would he? There was nothing of interest to him in that outside world they all desire. It was much better in here.
Freedom was a few wing flutters away..He could always fly and turn the page..but the not-so-litte-anymore bird learned a new truth: iron bars do not make the cage.
“It’s not nice to spy..” A sleepy voice startled Reo into stepping away from the laptop. Nagi stirred, slow and unbothered, sitting up with a soft yawn, his eyes cloaked by the messy white hair slipping from his hood.
“Uh, sorry! I..I just was captivated by the story and I couldn’t stop reading!” Reo backed away slightly, finally looking directly at the boy. Nagi was about to utter something, but the remark immediately dissolved in the violet rivers of Reo’s eyes. Silence stretched and Nagi’s gaze lingered. Reo didn’t look away either, eyes locked with Nagi’s, quiet whispers of have I met you before traversing between those still stares.
His eyes are so..soft..like I’ve seen them before..
That white hair..it’s like that stranger from my dreams..
Ah..what am I thinking? Merely a coincidence..He’s still quite cute..Seriously, what am I thinking??
“Chigiri was right, you’re quite impressive!” Reo added enthusiastically, diverting lanes away from those thoughts trudging up his brain, “this talent of yours should not be wasted!”
“Ah, Princess told you about me..” Nagi muttered, his tone lacking any indication of whether he was annoyed, upset or indifferent. He tilted his head, fingers lazily pulling his hood down and freeing his tousled bed head, white fluffy hair sprawling everywhere.
Damn, he’s even cuter now..Focus, Reo! Wait, Princess?
“Princess?” He asked out loud this time, ignoring the fuzzy feeling that white hair was bubbling in his chest. Dreams are merely dreams.
“I have nicknames for everyone in my head. Chigiri looks like a princess..with his hair and all.”
Reo chuckled softly, making a mental note to share that with Chigiri later. “But they’re all wrong about one thing. That really wasn’t soulless at all! There’s a myriad of feelings buried inside you, isn’t there? You just..struggle to express them. Writing as a bird helped you somehow. The bird represents you, doesn’t he?”
“Hm..?” Nagi drawled, “not really..this is more my way of telling Professor Bothersome that some people like being left in the cage, and I guess I added some “soul” to it so he can quit nagging and being such a pain..”
Reo scoffed in disbelief, did that boy truly believe what he was saying? “You can’t fake a soul, it’s just your own feelings manifesting! And you wrote it yourself, ‘Iron bars do not make the cage,’ because the real cage is the bird’s own mind..your mind.”
“And is that a bad thing?” A tinge of indifference laced Nagi’s tone, “maybe the bird is fine playing the same games, eating the same melon bread, and drinking the same lemon tea daily.”
“Yeah, I don’t think this is about some random bird,” Reo’s lips were set in a grin as he closed the distance between them, inattentively wrapping an arm around Nagi, “leave that story for a while, and live a little! Once you fly out of that cage, you’ll know how to continue the bird’s journey,” his grin widened as he added, “I can help ya!”
Silence settled and the air stilled for a moment as Reo realized how close they were. He was touching him, the boy he literally just met, and Nagi’s soft, unreadable gaze pierced his soul. A sudden rush of heat seared Reo’s cheeks, but he didn’t move away, and the smile lingered on his face, “what do you say?”
Nagi only stared, red roses reluctantly lending their petals to his cheeks and ears. “Hm..sounds like a hassle,” he mumbled, still not releasing himself from Reo’s hook, almost like he wanted to remain cocooned there.
“A hassle huh,” Reo huffed, finally unbinding Nagi’s shoulder. For a split second, he thought he saw a flicker of disappointment across Nagi’s face.
Ah..I’m imagining things.. “If you’re..so unbothered, why major in literature in the first place? You just need to dust off those wings of yours!”
Nagi shrugged, “it’s simply cause I thought it was the least hassle option,” he answered bluntly, “I’m fluent, so I figured it could help me land some editing or translation jobs I could do from the comfort of my home..or an office or whatever. A simple future. I didn’t know the major itself would be such a pain.”
Reo let out a laugh teetering between amusement and appreciation at that honesty. Chigiri mentioned how the professors called him soulless, and it seemed like everyone saw him as lazy and careless, but damn, messy choice without in-depths research aside, that boy had things mapped out better than some hard-working overthinkers, “you think ahead huh..Hey, we could make use of you at Mikage Corp,” he grinned, “for copywriting. We need more English writers for our global posts and campaigns.”
“If the money’s good then why not,” Nagi hummed, “give me the required brief, I’ll write and you pay.”
At that, Reo laughed, and without thinking, his hand reached to brush through Nagi’s hair, absentmindedly fixing the messy strands, "graduate first,” he said, quite amused, “and then demand payment.”
Nagi huffed, the scarlet paint pooling in his ears. Reo didn’t sense any air of discomfort diffusing from him, so his fingers fondled through his fluffy hair uninterrupted, softly unfurling the small, sleep-induced tangles, and smoothing the knots somewhere deeper without either of them being aware of it. Reo noticed Nagi’s eyes closed for a moment there. Is he falling asleep again?? “Nagi..”
Nagi’s eyelids fluttered open, “how do you k-..right, Princess told you of course..”
“I once felt like a caged bird too..And I know I’m not some literary expert, I prefer to read nonfiction, but I appreciate the arts, and well..soul and feelings aside..what you wrote..knocked on the door of my heart and tucked itself in..it’ll remain there for a long time, I know it.”
“What I wrote..made Reo feel that?” bewilderment colored his tone, and that confusion mirrored itself in Reo’s eyes.
“And how do YOU know my name? You’re familiar with me?”
“Hm..yea..”
Ah there it goes, Reo complained inwardly, another person who knew the Mikage Status before just Reo.
“You won some awards last year, the university’s account posted you a few times,” Nagi mumbled casually, without a care about Reo’s status, or even knowing anything about him, “you’re also on the brochure..ya know, those fake pictures they stage of students to portray a facade of campus life.”
Relief flooded Reo for a reason unfamiliar to him. Why do I even care that much…
“Yeah, they asked me to be in those photoshoots,” he chuckled lightly, “anyway um..as I was saying..birds may chirp different tunes, but they all tweet the same language in the sky, voices answering voices..calls answering calls. My bird wanted to soar away from his family’s clutches, yours..is comfortable in the cage, alike yet..different.”
“And your bird’s call sang its way to my heart,” he continued, “he’s..okay in his cage, but he deserves a more exciting story..So does your potential as a writer you know!”
Nagi’s eyes softened for a fleeting moment, a trick of the light perhaps, “My bird is okay..flying is a hassle.”
“Everything is a hassle to you huh,” Reo couldn’t help but chuckle, “what an odd bird,” he paused for a moment, his voice melting into something softer he could not quite name, “yet I feel this connection between us,” the grin was painted on his face again as his body moved on its own, arm wrapping around Nagi once more, “I like ya, let’s be friends!”
Nagi stilled, those wide, hazy eyes locked right onto Reo’s, carrying the heavy weight of all things unspoken, and the redness pooling on his cheeks and ears melted into a soft, pink hue. That shared moment lingered for a fraction until a few words were uttered, “...Thanks, but..,” he fell silent for just one hesitant moment before proceeding, ”I’m fine alone.”
Excuse me?
Did he just refuse my offer without a care??
How…very interesting.
Reo chuckled, backing away slowly, “no huh? So you won’t flap those wings of yours.”
“Too much work,” Nagi yawned, “I’m fine as I am.”
“So you say,” Reo grinned, not too offended by Nagi’s answer, for he knew it wasn’t the end. He stood up properly, ready to go back to his table, but not before turning to Nagi one more time, “if birds don’t use their shiny wings, they rust you know. Anyway, I meant every word I said,” he said, extending his hand even though he knew Nagi won’t take it, “Flying gives birds inspiration. So do companionship, effort, and adventures, Nagi.”
And with that, he pulled his hand away, turning on his heel and leaving behind an offer of companionship for a not-so-little, lone bird.
It’s not over yet. He may not know his potential..and I have this desire to awaken it..to fly by his side. It was interest at first sight..sudden then all at once..I can’t let it end here.
He may have said no, but there was one thing he didn’t say…
Chigiri was wrong. He did not call me bothersome.
–
So tired..
Nagi yawned, eyes drooping as he carefully arranged the flowers in the vase. Professor Bothersome kept asking him last year if he’d consider joining a club or a circle, so to avoid being pestered about it, he talked to the flower arrangement circle’s host in advance to join them this year. Giving life to flowers, arranging them minimalistically, that didn’t sound so bad…better than the other circles and clubs available.
“April breathes life into the world around us,” the host had said, “represent that season in a way that speaks to your soul.”
Is this the Soul of Japan University or something? Nagi's inner-complaint manifested itself in a slight scowl as he began to work, what is up with them and that word?
As he worked on arranging flowers in the white ceramic vase, his body drifted into a peaceful interlude, and perhaps that was what they meant by the soul, that depths inside each person that sleeps within the subconscious, waiting for a trigger to stir from its slumber. It tiptoed its way to the control room, and Nagi found himself arranging nothing but Sumire flowers. He turned their stems slightly, setting them into place, but something still felt missing. He then adorned the empty spaces with Phlonx, but only those with lavender-kissed petals. Once done, the vase was a lovely, violet-tinted soothing sight.
Ah..so purple.
Just like Reo’s eyes..
Those eyes that visit my dreams..have they transcended into my waking world..?
Ah..whatever..it doesn’t matter.
But no matter how many times the phrase “it doesn’t matter” looped and churned in his brain since meeting Reo a few hours ago, those purple eyes weren’t bound by chains of time. They were eternal..flowing through his dreams, and now have a physical form..etched into his eyelids, two little amethysts gleaming in his vision even with his eyes closed.
Ah..Reo can’t be the boy from my dreams..I dreamt of those eyes before I met him.
But I have seen him..in pictures, in the distance..
Maybe he’s…
…Doesn’t matter.
If life were a story like Professor Bothersome always says, and if people are the authors of their own books, Nagi wanted his pages to be bereft, just..blank, comfortable pages with no ink smudges. He found no point in letting people into his tale if they will just slip through the pages and never make it till the book’s conclusion, like his own parents. And so, he willed the thoughts of Reo and his words away, keeping companionship at bay, refusing to let those violet rivers flow into the gray.
As warm and beautiful as he found that smile..as inviting as it was, that lingering fear burned underneath his skin whenever anyone approached, not that they ever approached for companionship, it was either as a joke, to be nasty, or simply politeness. But Reo remained..he spoke to him like he was someone interesting to engage with.
That conversation with Reo was the longest one he ever had, the ones Professor Bothersome aside, but he wouldn’t label those as conversations exactly, he was more of a prisoner forced to listen. But with Reo…
There was no calculation, no pure reason, as to why he did not hide away and crawl into the gardens of his mind, laying in the grass of indifference until he’s consumed by the dirt. Those eyes could melt the frigidest frost with their warmth, that smile shined with the lights of all celestial halos blended into one, and that hug was like being wrapped in a warm blanket in winter. And when he extended his hand, his fingertips echoed wordless melodies that resonated with Nagi’s own, and his hand itched to absorb them, to clasp onto that care.
But it didn’t matter, he thought to himself as he walked out of the room, cradling his vase to his chest. The only plant he cared for was his cactus Choki, but he couldn’t part with this little purple paradise. It’s fine..the only Light I need is that of the-
The ethereal sight whisked his thoughts away as his eyes landed on Reo, walking out of the door at the right side of the hall, his inner light breaking in around him even at night.
But soft, what light through yonder window breaks,
It is the east,
…And Reo is the Sun.
Ah..what the? Why am I thinking of Romeo and Juliet quotes..
It looked like he had just stepped out of the shower, wearing a black tank top and sweats, damp hair, droplets of water clinging to his forehead and bare shoulders..how could a human be that gorgeous, like Adonis himself offered to be the model of inspiration, and Apollo’s lyre breathed luminous music into his core. Nagi stayed hidden in his corner, nearly ogling Reo with another Romeo and Juliet thought taking over his mind: For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.
Ahhh..
What a pain.
Why does my mind insist on remembering Shakespeare lines all of a sudden?
He shook his head for a moment, like that futile, stupid attempt could pour out the thoughts. Once Reo was out of sight, he continued walking, unseen as he always was. He stepped outside of the building, letting his feet carry him out of university and towards his dorm nearby. Moonlight spilled above, illuminating the canvas below it and protecting everything in its path from the darkness, but perhaps tonight, Nagi wanted the darkness to shield him from the moon.
How long can one withstand the desire for light?