Archive of Our Own

Rui decided a long time ago that he could never love a hero.

It wasn't at all that he resented heroism, far from it. Rui admired the idea of a selfless person, acting entirely for the sake of others. He always dreamed of one such person coming into his life.

Rui just didn't think someone like that existed.

To be a hero was to be defined by more unsavory traits of humanity: narcissism, stupidity, recklessness, and selfish entitlement to gratitude; heroes weren't real, they were a perpetuated codependency, existing in the contradiction between altruism and ego. Most people who sought to be heroes were looking for something to gain from it—fame and fortune, for instance, or anything to be revered as the next thing closest to a god.

It was simpler to say the perfect and ideal hero could not and did not exist.

Heroism in and of itself was a parasitic concept. Need demanded beyond the means of what any mere human could provide, and the expectation of being known as humanity's savior put a preemptive expiration date on any person naive enough to claim the role. Rui didn't think any person should give their life up for a little taste of clout and reverence.

Rui gave up on meeting someone who could truly match up to that ideal.

Three years ago, Kamishiro Rui met Tenma Tsukasa.

"Kamishiro Rui," Tsukasa had said to him, at the time, "I've decided you're going to defend humanity with me!"

With a hand outstretched to him, it was something Rui considered. Rui wanted to believe in it.

Everything that fell into place from that point forward was almost a nightmare. It was the first step of many, many more.

From that day on, Rui's worldview began to change, too—he remembered how to hope, to hold on, to dream. When Tsukasa promised to meet his expectations and go even further, Rui couldn't help but want to stick around to see if it was at all true.

He didn't think Tsukasa was a hero. Far from it, which was okay. He liked it that way.

There could be no such thing as a hero, but there was such a person as Tenma Tsukasa.

To conflate the two was unnecessary, especially since Rui was content with the latter alone. Tsukasa didn't need to be a hero, and Rui knew Tsukasa couldn't be one.

That was enough for Rui.

…But, Tsukasa wanted to be one.

"I'll follow your every strategy," Tsukasa once said, "anything to make me shine!"

It scared Rui, to be honest. An existence he'd wanted in his life for so long, just within reach, but…

In the beginning, Rui wasn't naive enough to believe it was achievable. But as time went on, Rui started to believe that if anyone could be a hero, it would be Tsukasa.

As such, Rui couldn't help but worry. There was only so much he could stretch his physical limitations before hitting a wall: the very lifespan of a hero. So much was okay because Tsukasa wasn't a hero.

If he were, then Rui wouldn't have become so sickeningly worried every time he left to take the frontlines of defense against another unprecedented attack.

"Why do you even want to be a hero?" Rui questioned one day, irritated as he somewhat clumsily patched up some cuts and bruises along Tsukasa' right palm.

Tsukasa sat, squirming a little bit under Rui's care. He nursed a juice box (that Rui made the mistake of letting him see from the emergency kit) with his free hand, wincing when Rui scrubbed his scrapes with disinfectant.

"That stings!" He whined, trying to pull his hand back, but Rui firmly held it in place. Conveniently, he didn't answer the question. Rui wiped his palm down a little aggressively, and Tsukasa hissed. "You're being too rough!"

"It's nothing you can't handle. It's necessary," Rui responded insistently, feeling a little bad—while he could manage basic first aid, it wasn't anything he was proficient at. His calloused hands were used to handling machinery, something which hadn't exactly carried over to nursing injuries.

Tsukasa sipped his juice.

"Still hurts."

Rui paused. Was it really so bad to complain this much? Regardless, he decidedly took Tsukasa's complaints to heart—perhaps, if he handled injuries with the same care he would a breadboard, then…

Gently, almost meticulously, he dabbed the cuts. Tsukasa didn't say anything more, but he slowly stopped trying to pull his hand away. Rui took that as permission to continue.

Somehow, it was peaceful. Rui wasn't too bothered by having to treat Tsukasa's injuries, not when they were so inconsequential. Methodically, he finished cleaning the cuts before picking up some bandages to patch the hand up.

"…To answer your question," Tsukasa began quietly, after a moment. "When my sister and I were kids, my family got caught up in one of the first invasions. My parents and myself were fine, but my sister was briefly taken hostage."

"Ah, Saki-kun?" He'd only met Saki a few times before, but Rui knew Tsukasa well enough to know he valued family above all else.

Rui's hands stilled as he looked up at Tsukasa. Oh—there were a few cuts and scrapes on the right side of his face, too—Rui would tend to those next. For now, his focus returned to the task that was literally at hand.

Tsukasa didn't shy away from mentioning his family, or talking about himself in general, but it was rare for him to speak in such candid earnestness, particularly about something so personal.

"A true hero ended up saving Saki," Tsukasa explained. "I'd never seen my parents so happy or relieved."

"…I see," Rui responded softly, noting how Tsukasa didn’t consider himself. "It sounds like it had a significant impact on you, too."

Tsukasa nodded, then laughed.

"Yeah, it's like…it made me think, 'I want to save people, too!'…something like that. To know one can bring safety, relief, and happiness to others with something so straightforward—I…" Tsukasa eyed the hand Rui still held, as Rui silently wrapped a bandage around his palm. "Well, I want to be someone like that. Someone who can save people, without a second thought."

"Hehe, how noble of you."

"Hey, don't make fun of me. I'm being serious," Tsukasa insisted, a little embarrassed.

"So am I."

"Oh." A pause passed before Tsukasa sipped at the juice box, now empty. He continued sipping anyway, before Rui gently batted away the straw from his mouth.

"Hold still, I'd like to clean the cuts on your face, too."

"…You don't need to—"

"I'll be more gentle this time, promise. It would be far more painful if it gets infected."

Tsukasa hesitated, but eventually gave in with a sigh.

Keeping true to his word, Rui carefully finished cleaning Tsukasa's scratches.

"…Tsukasa-kun," Rui started, tearing off a piece of medical tape and drawing it over a ball of cotton before applying it to Tsukasa's cheek. "I'd like to see you achieve your dreams."

I want to be there when you do.

Selfishly, Rui would want to achieve both their dreams side by side, hand in hand. Self-deprecatingly, he couldn't tell if there was space for him there.

"Of course! That's a given." Tsukasa grinned widely. "Where else would you be, if not by my side until the end?"

Rui blinked. Had he said that out loud…? He was pretty sure he hadn't. Either Tsukasa had grown exceptionally good at reading him, or they were simply on the same wavelength.

Rui would be happy with either option.

"I told you, didn't I?" Tsukasa remarked, the grin still present on his face, but Rui could tell there was some incredulity to his tone. "We're going to defend humanity, together. You didn't forget, right?"

Rui smiled at that.

"Of course not. Until the end."

These days, it wasn't uncommon to wake up to the sound of war sirens. As time went on and stretched on from weeks into months, they had become more frequent. As such, it left more opportunities for their unit to take the stage and shine—with Tsukasa leading as the face of their battles.

For the better part of ten years, all humanity itself had known was intergalactic war. Somewhere between fight and flight, Rui had long since adapted to his role, and while he didn't join the frontlines of battle, he still remained an active participant.

Rui, along with his childhood friend, Nene, operated from the back-lines. The two provided support to their frontline of defense, from the war room of their flagship aerial dreadnought, the Space Opera. Their Defensive Subdivision had always been small, but only recently had their numbers been cut down from about sixty crew members to less than ten. Currently on the ship, theirs was a team of four humans—if Rui's programmed drones and other AI were accounted for, the team could be considered significantly larger.

When their numbers dwindled, roles were consolidated out of need. While Rui, Nene, and Emu grew into numerous support roles for the team, Tsukasa remained at the front line of defense, quickly becoming a welcome face to humanity in the face of invasion.

That being said, it wasn’t like Rui was ignorant to the struggles humanity faced—he remained informed, staying on top of most news headlines, and tracked the documentation of another successful defensive mission achieved by the Wondershow Defensive Unit. With the face of their unit being Tsukasa himself, it came as no surprise when humanity gave him a nickname.

It didn't change how surprised Rui was when he first heard it.

"…the leader of the defense unit, Wondershow, Pegasus…" Rui snapped his head upwards, staring blankly at the news as it played out on the monitor. Beside him, Nene offered a low whistle, and Tsukasa was all but frozen in his seat. The report continued, recounting their most recent victory, and the segment ended with thanking the defensive unit for their service.

They called Tsukasa a hero.

"…Pegasus," Tsukasa echoed, a smile slowly stretching across his face. "Hey, did you hear that, Nene?" He shook Nene's shoulders beside him, and she lowered her handheld game, allowing the action with disdain. "They're calling me Pegasus!"

"…Impressive as it is, the title is probably because of that cheesy self introduction you give leading into every battle," she commented, returning focus to the game she'd been pulled from."Still, I can't believe they're calling you humanity's savior. It's a little excessive."

"Huh, really? Well, it's rather cool, isn't it?" Tsukasa rubbed his nose with a cocky sense of triumph. "I wonder if Saki saw the report—wait, I should call her!" He scrambled from his chair, making a quick departure from the war room.

Rui frowned.

Yes, for all intents and purposes, Tsukasa was a hero.

"…Rui," Nene called out, and Rui slowly turned his attention to her. "You don't seem happy."

"It'll go to his head," Rui responded coolly, dismissing the deeper implications of her statement. "Nothing good can come from this, that's all."

Nene fixed him with a curious stare and tilted her head as if she were trying to puzzle out his reasoning. The news report continued on about mercenary class operations. When Nene didn't respond, Rui added:

"Tsukasa-kun can't be a hero."

"…but he is?"

"No, that can't be possible. Tsukasa-kun is Tsukasa-kun."

Tsukasa couldn't be a hero, because that would mean Rui couldn't love Tsukasa. It was another troublesome contradiction that haunted him.

Nene's gaze softened.

"…Ah." She shook her head and offered an empathetic smile. "I wouldn't worry, Rui. Tsukasa will be fine."

Had he been so obvious? Rui couldn't help but smile wryly.

"I'm not worried," he lied anyway.

Neither got a chance to say anything more before the blaring of sirens indicated another attack.

When Tsukasa walked through the doors of the war room, Rui dragged him straight back out and towards the med bay.

"R-Rui?!" Tsukasa yelped.

Rui didn't offer any sort of response, simply pulling Tsukasa along, all while the hero stammered and stumbled along with him.

"Rui, come on, I'm fine—" he insisted, "It's just a few scratches, it's not even that bad—"

Rui stopped in the hall, and Tsukasa ran into him. He hissed, snatching his good hand back from Rui to grip his other arm. He froze up just as quickly as the sound escaped him, and Rui fixed him with a sharp stare.

"Not even that bad," Rui repeated slowly, for emphasis, "your arm—it's dislocated, is it not?"

Rui didn't bother pointing out how his sleeve was soaked in blood.

Tsukasa frowned, averting his gaze to the side. Rui sighed, dropped his arms, and held his hand out for Tsukasa to take.

"…At least let me dress your wounds."

The air hung heavy between them. Tsukasa grumbled for a moment, but took Rui's hand despite himself. The two fell in step for the rest of the walk to the med bay. While they walked, Rui noticed a few things: firstly, that Tsukasa was trying to overcorrect his gait, likely from a sprain in one of his legs. Secondly, Tsukasa's breathing was coming out uneven, which could be attributed to the effort he'd put into walking straight, but Rui would still be sure to check his lungs later. Thirdly, Tsukasa didn't even bother relaying the details of the mission.

Tsukasa being worse for wear was something Rui deduced by simply watching the battle unravel from the war room, but the physical ramifications always made Rui starkly aware of Tsukasa's human limits. Tsukasa strove to be the ideal hero, an invincible and irreplaceable existence, which was a statement that would only ever be 50% correct.

Rui squeezed Tsukasa's hand, and Tsukasa squeezed his back; it was warm. Rui couldn't help but smile in relief.

Tsukasa was safe. Right now, that was all that mattered.

The doors to the med bay automatically whirred open as they approached, and the two stepped inside. Rui led Tsukasa to one of the cots, only then releasing his hand. Tsukasa's grip lingered for a few seconds longer, before it reluctantly released.

"Sit, and don't move more than necessary."

Tsukasa didn't.

"…You know, you never used to fuss over me like this," he noted with a smile, as if trying to break the tension between them. When Rui ignored him, Tsukasa drew his lips into a tight line.

Rui wondered how true the statement was. Their defense unit started as a vigilante group, before a member of the Otori group (a military subsidiary) supposedly approached Tsukasa in recognition of his naive heroism (Rui wouldn't know—Tsukasa and Emu only approached him after the fact). For his part, Rui acted as a vigilante in his spare time, tactical and technical proficiencies eventually having caught the attention of the aspiring hero—the rest was history.

Point being, it felt like all Rui did was fuss over Tsukasa.

With a nod, Rui quickly fetched miscellaneous supplies they might need for treating Tsukasa's injuries—to start, he washed his hands, as well as a warm, sterile washcloth. After laying out everything he could possibly need methodically on a sterile metal tray, he wheeled over a medical cart chair-side to Tsukasa.

Rui sat on a stool and held out his hand.

"Let me see your arm."

Tsukasa frowned.

"It hurts to move."

"I know," Rui replied gently. "I'm sorry—it's going to hurt to maneuver back into place. Bear with me."

Rui expected Tsukasa to complain more, at least a little bit—but he didn't. Ever the perfect patient, Tsukasa inched closer to Rui and waited patiently. Rui reached around his torso, feeling along the joint of his shoulder with practiced dexterity; it quickly became obvious to him what was out of place. Rui held Tsukasa's arm, keeping his other hand firmly on the back of his shoulder. Tsukasa winced.

"Deep breath, and relax."

Tsukasa did, and Rui firmly applied pressure until Tsukasa's shoulder slotted back into place with a deep pop. The two sat still for a moment, before Rui removed his hands. He gave Tsukasa a cursory once over.

"It might still feel a little tender, but…does it still hurt?"

"…It's a little bit sore, but it doesn't feel wrong anymore."

"Good."

Rui reached for the wash cloth, looking over the medical tray thoughtfully. If anyone had asked him a year ago to treat human injury, Rui would have declined. Growing up, Rui always read all sorts of textbooks, many of which fell under the medical umbrella—however, he'd never consider it to be in his wheel-house of expertise.

There were only a handful other doctors and nurses available at the colonies—initially, there hadn't really been a need for Rui to play more than his own role of weapons engineer, and eventual defense strategist. As attacks on the city grew more frequent, units faced more casualties, and even their team grew smaller; it forced Rui to wear many hats, shifting his title from weapons engineer to bio engineer, and more recently, doctor.

"Rui?"

"Oh, sorry." Rui swiveled his chair back around, toward Tsukasa. He looked over the state of his uniform—it was a bit tattered and torn up, not to mention bloodied—but it was nothing compared to its wearer. "Take off your jacket so that I can see the extent of your wounds."

Wordlessly, Tsukasa obliged, and Rui noted that Tsukasa's face was a little scraped up as well—an expectation, at this point. As the jacket was removed, Rui took the total count of the cuts, scrapes, and gashes.

He started with Tsukasa's arm.

Aside from its prior dislocation, Tsukasa's bicep had a large tear down to the elbow. Dried blood was caked along the edges, coagulated around the deeper parts of the wound. Rui noted that it was fairly contaminated with dirt and debris caught up in the clotted blood. It was the second worst wound Tsukasa sustained from the day's attack.

Next, his eyes trailed to Tsukasa's collar bone.

There was a visible bump along the skin, indicating a fracture. Bruising was also apparent, stretching from the trapezius and across Tsukasa's right pectorals. Upon further inspection, a few scrapes accented the worst of the bruising.

The last injury sat around the ribcage, stretching mostly horizontally from right to left. Initially, Rui didn't think much of it, especially compared to the way Tsukasa's arm had been dislocated and bloodied. Rui's stomach dropped—if the gash had gone any deeper, had it been a penetrating blow rather than a slash, then Tsukasa very well may not have walked through the doors of the war room in the first place.

Rui lifted the wash cloth, gently scrubbing away the dirt and blood from the wound on Tsukasa's arm. Tsukasa allowed Rui to maneuver him freely, otherwise sitting still.

They sat in silence, their breaths filling the empty space between. Somehow, it was both a tense and comfortable silence—comfortable, because it was them, together, and tense because, while Rui could clinically address Tsukasa and his injuries, both knew his emotional state was nothing short of a mess.

Once the wound on Tsukasa's arm was cleaned, Rui moved onto the one decorating Tsukasa's chest.

As  often was the case, Tsukasa was the first to break the dense silence.

"I'm okay, you know that, right Rui? I'm here, I'm safe."

"Is that so?" Rui scoffed. "Your clavicle is broken, by the way."

It was an exaggeration, but Tsukasa didn't need to know that. Rui moved on to sanitize the scrapes for emphasis, and Tsukasa grimaced in discomfort.

"Oh," he replied dumbly. Of course he didn't realize.

"Contrary to what you seem to believe, you aren't invincible." Rui placed the now bloody wash cloth aside, exchanging it for a sterile cotton ball soaked disinfectant. "Hero or otherwise, you're human."

As Rui brought the cotton to the scrapes, Tsukasa grabbed his wrist.

"Rui," Tsukasa warned firmly.

A beat passed, and Tsukasa released Rui's wrist. Rui resumed his work as if nothing happened.

Tsukasa never did like facing the reality of their situations. No matter how often Rui might bring it up (for Tsukasa's sake), Tsukasa refused to acknowledge or accept it. Rui was getting tired of it.

By the time Rui finished disinfecting the cuts and scrapes, the tension between the two was palpable. They were both entirely amped up, neither wanting to back down from their perspective.

This time, Rui broke the silence first. He knew Tsukasa didn't want to hear it; he knew Tsukasa would be mad if he brought it up again. Beyond that, he knew he'd never forgive himself if something irreversible happened to Tsukasa.

"It's not sustainable for you to keep going like this," he implored softly, wrapping a bandage around the wound on Tsukasa's right arm. "What if, next time, your recklessness goes too far?"

Tsukasa was quiet for a moment, before he slowly responds:

"…Then, you can stop me before I go too far."

"What exactly do you think I'm doing now?"

It was ridiculous. Tsukasa stared at him—his furrowed brow and obvious frustration would normally be somewhat endearing, but right now, Rui couldn't help but feel mildly irritated at how Tsukasa wasn't listening to him.

"I can do more," Tsukasa insisted, "I have to. You'll let me, won't you?"

They both knew it was not a request. Without further comment, Rui finished bandaging Tsukasa's larger injuries.

Rui nudged Tsukasa's chin to make him look forward (at him), noting the bloody scratches and bruises that traced his features. He was about to reach for some cotton, but couldn't bring himself to do so.

It was obvious Tsukasa was staring at him. There was something unnerving about the fact that left Rui frozen in place.

After a stubborn moment, he looked into Tsukasa's eyes.

They stare at one another in silence. Tsukasa's eyes flicked downward for a split second, an action Rui could have missed if he'd blinked.

He thought nothing of it.

"Do you have any sense of self preservation?"

Tsukasa offered no response. With a sigh, Rui dampened sterile cotton with disinfectant, gently dabbing it against the worst of the wounds on Tsukasa's face. Tsukasa inhales sharply, but doesn't wince. After all this time, he was used to it, after all.

The moment passed.

Rui wanted him to say something, anything—something he could rebuke, anything to convince Tsukasa to stop acting so recklessly. In the end, he couldn't bring himself to say anything more; he couldn't bring himself to push it a step further; he couldn't have an emotionally vulnerable moment.

It wouldn't matter, anyway, would it? Rui couldn't reach Tsukasa.

The realization made him deflate, and so he conceded to Tsukasa's wishes.

"…Just be careful," Rui finally managed to request softly. He set aside the used cotton, and made quick work of patching up the worst cuts with gauze squares and medical tape. After appraising his own work, he nodded.

"…There, good as new."

"Thank you, Rui."

"Always." He allowed himself one moment of earnestness: "I don't want anything to happen to you. I couldn't bear anything more than this. That's all."

It was enough to dissipate the tension between them. Tsukasa's gaze softened.

"With you and everyone else by my side, I can't see how anything will." Tsukasa's warm hand reached out to cup Rui's cheek. It was reassuring. Rui couldn’t help but smile, and he leaned into the touch. As he allowed his eyelids to slip shut, his own hand came to rest over the inside of Tsukasa's wrist. Tsukasa laughed softly.

Something unspoken hung between them. The sentiment didn’t need a name.

It came across in the feel of Tsukasa's even breaths against his lips; in Tsukasa's steady heartbeat against Rui's fingers on his wrist; in the relaxed lilt of Tsukasa's earnest, fond laughter.

In retrospect, Rui wished he said it anyway.

Just once.

Days carried on with an unpredictable nature that came with not knowing when the next attack would be.

Currently, the Space Opera sustained mild damage to its hull after a targeted strike to the ship itself; it was the first time the ship specifically had been targeted. That was both good and bad: good, as it meant no civilian casualties, and bad in the sense that the invaders were shifting strategy to target their line of defense. As for the ship itself, it still managed to operate as necessitated, but the sooner it was repaired, the better.

If given the appropriate supplies, Rui could've probably repaired it himself, but since they were already stationed in Tokyo, it was easier to dock the ship in the terminal of the main base.

In terms of time, Emu's brothers assessed the overall damage, and estimated two days for repairs to be complete—as such, it was two guaranteed days wherein the team was now permitted rare personal time. Rui wasn't particularly sure what to do with the time—knowing himself, he figured he'd keep working, as usual.

Free time was hard to come by. Even so, the hardest part seemed to be dragging Rui away from any sort of work.

With their vessel docked and maintenance started, Wondershow convened in the lounge of the ship.

"My older brothers think it should only take two days for the ship to be like ka-shing-pa-pa-pa!" Emu announced brightly, gesturing along with her onomatopoeia. "They suggested we assist with other units' operations, if we wanted, but…"

"It's not a bad idea," Rui agreed, bringing his hand to his chin thoughtfully. "Exchanging successful techniques and strategies with other units could prove to work in our favor later."

"Ah, that's true, isn't it…" Emu deflated a little.

Rui was relatively comfortable and pretty confident in his own work, but opportunities to grow further meant more security for safety, both as a team and for the people they protect. While the operations of different teams varied, there was always something to be gained from those experiences.

"Well, no—it might be good to take our resting time to…you know, rest?" Nene commented with a frown.

"I couldn't agree more! Rest is important," Tsukasa eyed Rui, then continued, "I think it might be good to entrust ship operations and repairs to the main team. And leave the ship."

Rui frowned at the pointed comment. He had other things on his mind, anyway—with all of Tsukasa's med bay visits, supplies had been starting to dwindle—they needed to restock on quite a bit. 'Down time' didn't exist when there was so much left to do and to prepare for.

"I leave the ship plenty," Rui defended. Both Tsukasa and Nene fixed him with unimpressed stares, while Emu simply blinked at him. "…Okay, allow me to rephrase—I leave the ship enough."

"That's still being a bit generous, don't you think?" Tsukasa asked.

"No."

Tsukasa's lips thinned out into a line. In the next moment, Tsukasa was behind him, lifting Rui up from under his armpits from his chair.

"We're leaving the ship, whether you want to or not."

"Right now?" Rui pleaded, trying to will himself to be as heavy as possible as he held on to his chair.

"Do you two ever stop?" Nene commented as soon as she realized the conversation was effectively derailed.

"Uuu, Nene-chan, don't feel left out!" Emu chirped, and then: "I'll help, don't worry!"

"What?! Emu, hang on, wait—!"

Easily, Emu lifted Nene into a bridal carry, standing confidently in the center of the room. Tsukasa blinked, still attempting to lift Rui, before his face fell into a flat expression. Rui's lips curled into a smile, before he put on a faux-pout.

"Tsukasa-kun can't even lift me," he whined. "So, so sad."

It worked as intended when Tsukasa shifted his arms under Rui's legs, similarly lifting him in a bridal carry. With a huff, the hero turned his nose up, a self-assured grin plastered on his face.

"I'm sorry, what were you saying, Rui?"

"Owaaa—! Tsukasa-kun is so strong!!" Emu cheered.

"Talk about a fragile ego," Nene jeered.

"Oya. I stand corrected, it appears."

The moment was short-lived as Tsukasa promptly set Rui down on his feet. Rui couldn't help but feel a little disappointed, but it was okay—teasing Tsukasa on its own was fun enough. Regardless, Rui didn't get much time to dwindle on it when Tsukasa's hand firmly gripped his wrist. Tsukasa continued to speak as if nothing had happened.

"Anyway, I'd like to see my family while we're in the area. We can reconvene tomorrow night to check the ship status, but until then, do as you please." He paused. "…Also, I forbid anyone from setting foot on the Space Opera, unless absolutely necessary."

Emu set Nene back on her feet, and the two nodded in agreement. Rui attempted to free his arm from Tsukasa's grasp, but it was clearly a wasted effort.

"As usual, we'll stick to a buddy system—this time, I'll stay with Rui. Does that work for everyone?"

Rui frowned. Typically, they reserved the buddy system for dangerous missions where they had to leave the ship. Their current situation had no immediate threats as such. Additionally, Tsukasa was often the last to suggest it, considering they established the system to address his own recklessness.

How conniving of the hero to use it in such a sinister way.

Nene glanced at Rui, and he returned with an imploring stare. A beat passed, she smiled, and turned her attention back to Tsukasa.

"Sure, works for me."

Traitor, Rui thought in desperation.

"Me too!" Emu agreed, linking her arm with Nene's, and dragging her out of the room. "Nene-chan, let's go do something fun!"

"Eh? W-Wait, Emu…!"

Once they left, Rui made a show of wiggling his arm.

"I'm not going to run away, you know? You don't have to hold me so tightly, Tsukasa-kun."

"I'm well aware," came the breezy reply, "if you had your way, you'd lock yourself up in either the lab or war room. Besides, I think food supplies have been running low."

Rui knew that much was true, as he'd been taking inventory on any supplies they might need to restock. This included, but wasn't limited to: food supplies, medical supplies, hygiene supplies, et cetera.

"So!"

Similarly to Emu, Tsukasa guided them out of the lounge, heading for the jet bridge. Rui had no choice but to follow. Still, he grumbled, wiggling his wrist again.

"Could you at least ease your grip? You're hurting my wrist."

Tsukasa released him altogether, and Rui had half a heart to turn around. Just as quickly, Tsukasa took hold of Rui's hand instead—interlocking their fingers. Confused, Rui held his hand back.

As they disembarked, he couldn't think of anything to say, so he didn't.

The two ended up stopping by a convenience store, located on the outskirts of the base. The storefront was somewhat crumbled and quite scuffed up, its LED sign was flickering, but it looked as though it was one of the few stores this far out that was kept stocked and maintained. It was by no means a luxurious or special outing, but it was enough of a treat from their usual routine that Rui couldn't find much to complain about. That, and he was hungrier than he'd realized.

Their lunch was simple enough: some lukewarm drinks (pocari sweat and barley tea), questionable and potentially expired food (egg sandwiches and fried chicken), and of course, a pack of ramune candy (that Tsukasa graciously added without noticing Rui had already slipped a couple of packs into their basket). When they paid, the automated cashier system lit up in recognition. Tsukasa lifted his ID card to the scanner, and after scanning the card, the system also scanned both Tsukasa and Rui themselves.

"Welcome, Tenma Tsukasa and Kamishiro Rui," its robotic voice greeted. "The Tokyo Colony thanks you for your service to humanity. As such, your cost today is 0 credits."

Since the war began, civilian areas were damaged at best and abandoned in the worst cases. Money didn't really exist at all, however banking systems maintained credits based on civilian databases in order to mediate transactions and services.

This was the first time they had really been off the ship in a while, and both stared dumbly as the automated system zeroed out their owed amount.

"…Wait, that's—" Tsukasa frowned, almost arguing with the system. He was quick to give up, and wound up reluctantly accepting the generous discount on their items.

They exited the store, and Tsukasa stretched, staring up at the evening sky with a far off look in his eyes. The sun was already starting to set, the sky a gorgeous wash of periwinkles and pinks. It was a rare and breathtaking sight, amidst the rubble of what used to be a bustling city.

"…I wonder how the barrier's holding up, it's weird to see the city so empty," Tsukasa suddenly said. "On the bright side, it's good there's been no sirens, today…"

Rui nodded, but was quick to realize Tsukasa didn't witness the action. He responded, "Yes, that's true. I'd like to take a look at the barrier myself—I wonder what the technology behind it looks like."

Tsukasa's stomach made itself known with a loud, curling growl. Rui laughed softly, and Tsukasa lightly shoved him before he could make any kind of remark.

Not too far off, there was an old, run-down bench, nestled between some dilapidated vending machines and concrete rubble. Tsukasa gestured to it.

"Come on, I'm hungry. I know you are too," he said simply. "Let's sit for a bit."

It felt like hours were passing as they sat, shooting the breeze, but in reality, it was only about thirty minutes. They ate what they could of the dubious food, which was more than expected. The drinks were fine, fortunately, and only after they ate did Tsukasa notice the multiple containers of the candy. Instead of yelling, however, he just smiled, picking up a pack before emptying some candies out onto his hand.

"Here."

He held his palm out, allowing for Rui to take some candy, which he did. What Rui didn't take, Tsukasa ate himself. Rui watched him fondly, as Tsukasa returned his gaze upward.

Rui bit his lower lip, looking down at the now-empty plastic bottle in hand. He twisted the bottle cap back and forth thoughtfully.

"…Tsukasa-kun," he began. "Have you…"

"Hm?"

"Have you ever thought…about what would happen, if you never came back?"

The implication flew over Tsukasa's head as he replied, "Why would I never come back?"

It was such a Tsukasa answer that Rui couldn't help but laugh. "That's not what I meant. I'm talking about your recklessness," Rui elaborated.

"I don't have any plans to die soon, if that's what you're worried about."

"It's not exactly something you can plan for," Rui insisted. "I just want you to be safe."

Tsukasa fell silent at that. Rui wasn't quite sure of what to say, either.

"…So long as people remember me, that I did something good for humanity, then it's fine, right?"

Rui's hands stilled.

"…Don't forget the people you'll leave behind, too. Emu-kun, Nene, your mother, Saki-ku—"

Me.

Tsukasa stood up, whipping a dangerous glare toward Rui. It was a warning—Rui sighed, standing up as well. They tossed their trash in a nearby bin, and Rui shifted his weight from right to left awkwardly.

"…Tsukasa-kun," he presses, "just—be careful. What if something were to happen to you, and I wasn’t—"

"Rui."

With great reluctance, Rui let the topic go. Nodding, Tsukasa started back toward the outpost.

All day, Rui hadn't really considered where they were going, nor did he question where they were to go after they ate. Despite the tension in their previous exchange, the two of them wound up making light, amicable conversation as they trekked back to the base. Instead of taking the turn down the corridors to the garrison, however, Tsukasa kept walking straight, leading them to the residential district of the outpost.

It had been quite some time since Rui had paid a visit to the residential district; he had no reason to, after all. The two fell into silence as Rui lost himself to his thoughts. Idly, he considered telling Tsukasa the truth—but ultimately decided that was for another time.

Tsukasa stopped in front of one of the doors. The unsuspecting Rui bumped into him, grunting slightly, at which Tsukasa let out an amused snort, before scanning a keycard against the lock of the door. Before Rui could question further, the lock clicked, and the door whirred open before them.

"I'm home!" Tsukasa called, stepping through the threshold. Rui was frozen in place, before he stiffly followed after the hero.

Tsukasa said he wanted to see his family. Right. That's what they were doing now.

Family.

From there, three things happened, in no particular order: a thud, followed by light, quick footsteps from the upper floor, an immediate clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen, and the simultaneous yet disjointed calls of "welcome home!" from different parts of the apartment.

A woman who Rui could only assume to be Tsukasa's mother was the first to greet them—she stopped and gave Tsukasa a once over, scrutinizing the bandages on his face for a moment. After a moment, she glanced at Rui, smiled, and pulled Tsukasa into a tight hug.

"Good to see someone is looking after you." It sounded like a scolding, somehow, as if she knew the bandages weren't Tsukasa's own doing. Tsukasa sputtered and stuttered in response, not really saying much of anything at all. His mother seemed used to this.

For his part, Rui simply smiled politely, unsure of what to say.

"You must be the ever-famous Kamishiro Rui," she hummed. "Thank you, for all you do for Tsukasa."

Famous was an odd descriptor, but its implications were intriguing. Rui glanced at Tsukasa for an answer, who was completely red in the face, refusing to look at him. Rui wouldn't call himself a genius, but that was answer enough. Rui straightened his posture before responding:

"Yes, ah—Kamishiro Rui, strategist and engineer of the Space Opera—"

Tsukasa's mother laughed lightly, effectively interrupting him.

"Please, there's no need to be so formal, Rui-kun—you can think of us like family."

Rui stood like a deer in headlights, searching for words to say. His voice caught in his throat.

She didn't mean it. She couldn't, right…?

Before he could question what that implied, Tsukasa's sister had all but run down the stairs. Tsukasa introduced Saki to Wondershow once before, so this wasn't their first time meeting, but it had been a while since they had.

"Big brother, you're home!" she exclaimed as she tackled Tsukasa into a big hug. Tsukasa stumbled back a little, bumping into Rui, and hugged her back. Rui placed his hands on Tsukasa's shoulders, so as to make sure he wouldn't lose his balance.

"Saki!" he responded brightly, releasing her.

Similarly to Tsukasa's mother, Saki was quick to give Rui a once over, followed by a smile.

"Rui-san!" She smiled. "It's so good to see you again! I hope my brother hasn't been causing you too much trouble!"

Once again, Tsukasa sputtered too many reasons for the sake of defending his honor.

"He hasn't, don't worry," Speaking fondly, Rui finally managed to find his voice. "Tsukasa-kun is very reliable. I'm only doing what I can to support him, the same way he's always done for me."

"Hehe, I'm glad!" Saki clapped her hands together, smiling brightly. She paused, then smiled, and continued, "I hope you both had a nice date!"

"WH-HUH?" Tsukasa yawped. "D-D-D-DATE? WHAT DATE—"

A date? Is that what today was? Whatever would cause such an idea to manifest, unless—

Rui stared blankly.

Saki stared back, between the two of them, then suddenly laughed almost apologetically, before continuing:

"Yeah, you know! When you go out! With your friends! Totally platonically!"

"WE! Shall go get settled, then! QUITE PLATONICALLY!" Tsukasa suddenly announced before sister or mother could respond, once again taking Rui's hand before he dashed up the stairs. Rui somehow managed to stumble after him without missing a step.

Tsukasa pulled Rui into his room, stiffly making sure the door was shut behind them. Rui took a moment to catch his breath, and gave Tsukasa, who was heaving, a glance up and down.

His face was entirely red, and he avoided looking at Rui.

Oh, Rui thought, unable to help but smile to himself, I think I understand.

"Hehe, it's quite lively, just like Tsukasa-kun," Rui spoke with a smile. "I see where you get your kindness from. You have a good family, Tsukasa-kun. I'm glad."

He meant it.

Tsukasa looked up, finally looking at Rui, searching his face. He opened his mouth, as if to ask something, and then stopped. Rui wondered if he should say something more, but somehow, he wasn’t certain.

Tsukasa wanted to say something, Rui could tell. After a moment, Tsukasa looked away, a small frown present on his face.

"…Come on, help me get the spare futon set up."

Rui followed, and the moment passed. Whatever Tsukasa may have wanted to say—Rui would never know. At the back of his mind, Rui knew he may have missed something important. It wasn't something he could easily bring up again.

They spent the night at the Tenma household, and, for a few hours, Rui forgot everything he knew about intergalactic warfare. In another world, perhaps he could have led a kinder, more gentle life. The evening seemed to be full of more teasing comments, mostly at Tsukasa's expense. It was warm—it was a home, lively and welcoming.

When he slept, Rui dreamed—of lonely rooftops during a school festival, of blooming flowers in a well-tended flowerbed, and of dazzling stages bringing radiant smiles to an audience—and when he woke up again, he couldn’t help but smile at the sleeping face of a bright boy in the bed next to his. Lingering dreams of skipping stones at dawn at the Kamo River were fresh in his mind.

Rui had never been to Kyoto, but he thought that one day, he'd like to go.

The following day was relatively uneventful and mundane, though not unlike the one preceding it. When they left the Tenmas’, Tsukasa was sent off with a plethora of personalized supplies and commodities, so much so that Rui had to assist in carrying everything.

They said their goodbyes, and Tsukasa's family once again thanked Rui. He still wasn't entirely sure why, and it felt presumptuous to infer. On a personal level, Rui felt he was the one who ought to be thanking them.

From there, they had no choice but to return to the ship and unload everything Tsukasa's family had given them, before spending the remainder of the day running necessary errands around the outpost for medical supplies and the like.

By 5:00PM, the two received correspondence from Emu and Nene that repairs had been completed. When they returned to the ship, they were met with the two, as well as Emu's older brothers, Keisuke and Shousuke. The brothers informed the unit that they were to be stationed at a new location for the time being, given an increase in attacks in the area.

"Kyoto?" Tsukasa asked, bringing a hand to his chin in thought.

What strange timing.

"Your duties remain the same, so I wouldn't be too worried." Shousuke explained, handing Rui a hard drive. Rui turned the device over in his hands thoughtfully. "All the information you need to know should be on this drive. There's a mission briefing, but you should also familiarize yourselves with the area's history—you'll find some e-books there, as well. You'll be able to upload the data to the ship's computer system over the course of a few hours."

Rui smiled, feeling like some kind of fate must be looking out for him. He stared off, lost in his thoughts. He'd read about Kyoto when he was younger, so he was relatively familiar with the area and its own quirks—at least on paper.

"I'm surprised that the Kyoto Outpost is seeing more attacks. But…will there be enough defense here, in the meantime?" Nene asked.

"That shouldn't be a concern," Keisuke answered, "I'm sure you've seen the reports on mercenary operations—we've hired one such group to maintain such duties here."

Rui blinked.

"Why not hire that group for the Kyoto Outpost?"

"As things stand, your only offensive unit is Tenma-kun," Shousuke explained. "The mercenary group—VBS for short, I'm sure you've heard of them—is predominantly offensive; they aren't defensive. Their support should cull the need for the defense unit, for the time being."

"VBS," Tsukasa echoed, nodding in acknowledgment. "We can trust their team to manage things here, then!"

"Ehhhh? Tsukasa-kun, do you know them?!" Emu asked in surprise.

"Heh! Perhaps so!" Dramatically, Tsukasa brought a hand to his chest, proud. "You see, my juniors are part of that unit! One of them is like a younger brother to me, and while the other is a bit of a rabble-rouser, he's no less reliable! Plus, their group's reputation precedes them, anyway. It's safe to say we can trust them."

Shousuke hums, nodding.

"Then, if none of you have any objections, you can set a course for the Kyoto Outpost tonight."

Their time at the Kyoto outpost had been peaceful. Since arriving, there hadn't been a single attack.

When Tsukasa asked Rui to meet him at the observation deck, Rui dropped everything to carve out time for the hero. Rui hadn't thought much of the request.

For the past handful of weeks, there had been no extraterrestrial attacks, which allowed Rui ample time to refine some newer medical drones, as well as system maintenance of their combat spacecrafts. Both were his pet projects that had taken a backseat to other priorities of the Space Opera's day-to-day operations.

"A residential reconnaissance mission?" Rui asked, leaning against the glass of the observation deck, crossing his arms casually as he and Tsukasa chatted.

"The area isn't particularly dangerous, despite being outside the barrier," Tsukasa quickly assured. "There's something I want to investigate. It shouldn't take long."

"I suppose I can't fault humanity's savior for looking for something to do," Rui teased. "You're bored."

As was the nature of their unit, they mostly acted defensively, the well-being of the community being a priority. Since the arrival of otherworldly invaders, the military had been decently thinned out—extraterrestrial attacks were entirely unprecedented, and humanity paid the price for unpreparedness. While the Government mostly maintained specialized forces such as offensive and defensive units, they also enlisted the help of citizens who had risen up to the challenge; mercenary groups, like VBS.

"It has nothing to do with being anyone's savior," Tsukasa remarked with a frown. "I was reading an old traveler's catalogue about the area, from the hard drive—you know, I never got a chance to visit before the attacks began. I always wanted to."

Generally speaking, their defensive unit stayed in one place, unlike offensive units or mercenary groups. Therefore, without attacks, not much was expected of them. Tsukasa, perpetually unable to sit still, often used his free time to patrol, to connect back with people. He'd all but striven to be a cookie-cutter hero.

While Rui always wanted to believe in heroes, he thought them no more than a comforting, unreachable ideal. An impossibility. Along with the rest of humanity, he had made peace with the fact that heroes couldn't be real. Some things never changed.

Tsukasa, however, existed to contest that peace of mind—to go beyond it, even.

"If you say so," Rui acquiesced. "I'm assuming you came to me to ask for permission, then."

"What? No, that's…well, kind of. I can't imagine taking longer than two—five hours. You know, the buddy system? I'm being responsible, here! And accountable!"

"Is that what we're calling it?" Rui smiled lazily, shifting his gaze out the window overlooking the view. Their station in Kyoto had taken some time to get used to, but regardless, it made for a beautiful view.

Rui was surprised it took this long for Tsukasa to get bored, honestly speaking.

"It's what I'm calling it!" Tsukasa was suddenly by his side, looking out the window with bright eyes. After a moment, he tilted his head to smile at Rui. "Besides, pictures don't do it justice! I want to see it for myself!" he paused, and then:

"…Come with me?"

"…What?"

Rui wanted to, more than anything. A distant dream of skipping stones with Tsukasa at dawn came to mind, and his heart clenched. He couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't.

Not now.

"I'm starting to think this isn't a reconnaissance mission at all."

At this point, they pretty much lived entirely on the aircraft. Tsukasa, at least, made an effort to leave every now and again, even if it was only to play hero; Rui hardly left the war room, let alone the ship. There was a definite appeal to the change of scenery—even more with the knowledge that it would be the two of them.

Rui wanted to be greedy—to take Tsukasa's hand, throw caution to the wind, and descend to the world below.

"Maybe it isn't," Tsukasa slowly confirmed Rui's suspicions.

When Rui didn't respond, Tsukasa pushed it further.

"Maybe, I…want to spend time with you. Just us."

Rui hesitated. It sounded dangerously close to a confession—or at least the start of one.

Rui couldn't—he couldn't love a hero.

Rui wanted to.

He already did.

"We…can't leave the Space Opera unattended," he weakly argued.

"Rui, I promise you we can leave the ship for a couple hours and be absolutely fine," Tsukasa stated, a hint of desperation to his tone. "Emu and Nene can hold down the fort without you or me for a few hours. Besides, there have been no attacks since we got here— we're close enough that if something were to happen, we can rush back. It'd be under ten minutes."

The logic was sound enough.

"…I would need to bring supplies," Rui wavered, considering Tsukasa's offer earnestly. "Just in case, we would need at least five combat drones, a basic soldering kit, two recovery drones, an AED—"

"We don't need any of that!" Tsukasa interrupted. "If you must bring drones, then two alone is plenty—but an AED? A soldering kit? Be serious, Rui!"

"Well, yes—"

"Well, no!" Tsukasa crosses his arms, fixing Rui with a firm stare. "If we're going to the river, then—"

River…?

A river in Kyoto—there were plenty, but if Tsukasa was reading an old travel guide, then Rui stood to reason that there was more significance to the outing than he was prepared for. Rui gave Tsukasa a sidelong stare, stunned by the eager anticipation he was met with. He was almost convinced.

A blush crept up the back of his neck, and it was suddenly very difficult to look at Tsukasa. He stared back out at the scenery.

Rui wished for even one moment of normalcy, any armature of a normal life, one where he could hold Tsukasa's hand that held a smooth river stone, and on the count of three, they would throw it together, skipping seven, maybe eight times—

"Reconnaissance isn't my strong suit. I'll be on standby." Rui stated in finality, surprised by his own firmness. "Three combat drones, two recovery—"

"…Seriously?"

Rui bit his lip, and spared a glance toward Tsukasa…

…who looked entirely crushed. Rui straightened up, reaching out, and—

"Tsukasa-kun—"

"—If you aren't going to come with me, then drones won't be necessary." Tsukasa looked away from Rui, obviously upset—his voice trembled with barely contained frustration. "What's the worst that could happen in ten minutes? At least you'll know where I am."

In case something does happen went unspoken. Both of them understood it, in any case.

"I always know where you are, whether you want me to or not," Rui mumbled. He turned to face the window.

For a moment, Rui thought they might fight.

"…Hmm?" Tsukasa turned his head fully to look at Rui again, but Rui kept his gaze straight ahead. He wanted to look at Tsukasa, if only to see his expression; he can't bring himself to. When Rui didn't supply a response, Tsukasa cheekily added, "Oh! Well, of course, how could I blame you? Like you said, I'm humanity's savior—but more than that, aren't I your hero, Rui?"

Rui thought Tsukasa must be joking. Still, with few and far between moments of honesty and vulnerability, Rui's response was surprisingly earnest.

"…Hehe. That's true, you are my hero." He finally turned to smile at Tsukasa, who stared back at him, unreadable.

Tsukasa was everyone's hero, after all.

It was only a residential reconnaissance mission. The area wasn't in any immediate danger. It shouldn't have been, at least.

Admittedly, Rui had lost track of time since the last attack (lost in his work), and thanks to Wondershow's efforts, there were zero civilian casualties. Still, a month (give or take) without danger was a pleasant change, even if it would end up being short-lived.

Tsukasa left for the surface of Kyoto a little more than an hour ago. As he'd said, it was a short enough time that Rui was starting to feel more than a little stupid for not going with him.

Here and there, Tsukasa reported back to Rui over the communicator Rui insisted he brought with him. It seemed nice, from what Tsukasa reported—Rui was really starting to wish he was there, too. It sounded beautiful, and his fears of Tsukasa's death were far off, intangible, unreachable—he'd seriously been worrying for nothing. It had been about ten minutes since Tsukasa last communicated with him.

No news was good news.

Rui wanted to ask Tsukasa about the river, if he'd seen it yet, no matter how unremarkable it may have ended up being. Was the greenery of the planet as green as it looked from the observation deck? Were the natural fauna as colorful and thriving under the rays of morning sun? Were there stones at the edge of the water, kissed by the river, left smooth and eroded?

Rui wished he could see such simple things for himself, first hand—but he's sure Tsukasa, along with the drones sent with him—would have enchanting stories and stunning footage for Rui to imagine how it would have felt to go and experience together.

His desk in the war room was pretty cluttered. It didn't stop Rui's workflow. On some loose scraps of paper, Rui sketched out a childish depiction of a river, along with crude drawings of himself and Tsukasa next to it. It sincerely would have made for a precious memory to share.

Rui sighed, pondering just what Tsukasa might have said to him, taking him to such a location, with everything that had led up to their lives as they knew it. Would he have said everything Rui couldn't bring himself to?

It was a nice thought.

…Maybe he would meet up with Tsukasa after all. He could imagine it—the way Tsukasa's eyes would light up and sparkle when he saw Rui coming to get him.

It was decided, then—Rui would make quick work of repairing his newest medical drone, and then go meet Tsukasa.

It'd only take him ten minutes.

Rui excitedly finished up the repairs, when broken static suddenly cut through the communicator's frequency.

"—ui! -e—!" Rui slowly blinked at the noise, setting aside his drone, and picked up the radio. "R—i!!"

"Tsukasa-kun, it's hard to understand you," he spoke firmly, hoping the unstable connection would clear up. "Did you finish reconnaissance? I can send a transport drone to your location."

Rui tapped the screen of the device, pulling up the coordinates of Tsukasa's location. He took a moment to squint at the small monitor, and in the next, he was standing from his desk, stumbling for the control panel at the center of the war room. His fingers were typing faster than he could think, and not even a second later, the main monitor displayed what he could only describe as the worst case scenario.

"Displaying feed of drone 9," the system announced. A moment later, the doors to the war room slid open, and Emu ran in, followed by Nene and Nenerobo.

"Rui-kun, Tsukasa-kun, there's an attack—!" She cried out, footsteps stilling for a moment as they stared at the screen.

"Wait, why is Tsukasa—" Nene cut in, concern apparent in her tone.

Three chilling thoughts passed through Rui's mind:

One: they weren't prepared. Not as well as they should have been.

Two: Tsukasa went alone. He shouldn't have.

…Three: Rui should have been there. With him, by his side.

"Tsukasa-kun," he spoke sharply, trying to keep his tone even and the desperation from his voice. "Come back, now—"

"Rui—!" Tsukasa yelled back, barely dodging a projectile attack from a hoard of invaders. "I need—backup, I don't think—"

Rui suddenly felt nauseous.

This was planned—the enemy must have known Tsukasa would be alone, with his guard lowered, but it begged the question as to how.

"Tsukasa-kun, listen to me," he began with a stiff calmness he didn’t quite feel, nearly stumbling over his words out of hardly contained panic, "You need to get out of there—"

An obsidian shadow suddenly flew through the air, and before Rui could process what was happening, Emu and Nene screamed. It took only a split second for Rui to realize the shadow was some sort of weapon, some sort of machinery—pinning Tsukasa down, restraining him from any escape, and—

In an instant, it lifted its arm—a lance—and drove it straight through Tsukasa, pinning him against a crumbling bridge of stone and rubble.

Tsukasa looked down, staring blankly at the intrusion just below his chest. His eyes were blown wide, his face pale, and his shallow breaths came out ragged—a pause, and then a bloodcurdling scream.

Rui's hair stood on end. He could hear Emu cry out and Nene give a muffled whimper beside him as she must have hid her face behind her hands; Rui’s eyes were glued to the screen, unable to look away, so he didn’t really know for sure.

By the time any of them could process what happened, Tsukasa's panicked cries had become garbled, in what could only be assumed was a symptom of his lungs filling with blood. In a last ditch effort, he struggled against the lance, but it was useless; he was trapped between metal and stone, any effort futile and wasted. In seconds, his movements slowed, weakened and sluggish, before he stopped struggling altogether.

Tsukasa’s body went still.

Panic surged through Rui and he desperately called out, as if it'd change the inevitability of the outcome.

"Tsukasa-kun! Tsukasa-kun—!"

The monster retracted its appendage from Tsukasa's abdomen, and Tsukasa's limp body fell into the water of the river below. To say Rui was horrified was a gross understatement, and just as he was about to desperately call out again, the video feed froze before cutting out entirely.

"Drone 4, now!" he yelled, but the result was the same. All five of the combat drones’ feeds were inactive.

Rui checked his drone monitor—his blood ran cold with the realization that they had all been destroyed.

In a blur, he scrambled for his desk, picking up the forgotten communicator, and brought up Tsukasa's coordinates once more. Despite his nerves, despite his nausea, and despite the way his body wouldn't stop shaking, he spoke both loud and clear.

"Nenerobo," Rui barely managed, and the AI's eyes lit up in acknowledgement. "S…send rescue drones, to the following coordinates: 35°01'52.9"N, 135°46'15.4"E."

"Understood. Deploying rescue drones. The estimated arrival time is 6 minutes."

It was not fast enough. Assuming the worst, they had to find Tsukasa in under 5 minutes. Anything beyond that changed the mission from rescue to retrieval.

Rui threw the communications device back down in a frenzied display of helplessness, and then he sprinted in a clumsy stumble out from the war room.

Distantly, he heard voices call after him, but he couldn't make out any coherency to their words.

It was as if he'd been underwater; a deep ringing pressure filled his ears, his body felt both hot and cold at the same time, and his limbs felt as though they were moving through molasses. The horrifying scream torn from Tsukasa echoed in Rui's mind, before his body—

Rui ran out from the docked aircraft (when had it docked?), and a recovery drone was quick to catch up to him. By the time he reached Tsukasa’s coordinates, there was no sign of the invaders, save from damage left behind.

Rui stumbled into the water where he saw Tsukasa fall, feeling sick to his stomach when he noticed a reddened trail of blood in the ebb and flow of the river. From there, he found Tsukasa, and pulled him from the water, to the ground, laying him back in hurried desperation. Rescue drones landed next to him, and Rui hastily grabbed a roll of gauze, focused on stopping the bleeding.

Recovery was a blur—Tsukasa's chest was wrapped in gauze, and after desperate moments of CPR, Rui pulled away from delivering emergency breaths with a sob, commanding a rescue drone:

"Please, please, don't let him die—"

Tsukasa's pulse wasn't coming back. It wasn't enough.

There was no such time for petty statements like "I was right, you know," when Tsukasa's tattered body was lifeless, resting among the rubble before him.

Distantly, a drone pronounced a time of death.

Rui ignored it.

Rui had been holed up in the bio lab for precisely one week now.

A few times, both Emu and Nene attempted to stop by, but Rui was entirely despondent—unreachable. He didn’t see either of them.

It's grief, something at the back of his mind insisted.

He had nothing to grieve, so he didn't understand.

Rui could change the outcome.

Everything would be okay. Nobody had to worry.

Before him sat a large pod. It was something he'd managed to build in less than a day, and it was nothing short of a miracle (or perhaps a sheer force of will) that it seemed to function as intended. On the right side of the pod was a control panel. Rui glanced at it, his hand hovering over a large lever, but he couldn't bring himself to even touch it.

It was hesitation.

With bated breath, he looked back up into the glass pod, and stared at the human inside, suspended in liquid, eyes closed in a comatose state. The human looked peaceful, uninjured.

It was beautiful. As the monitor connected to the pod hums a repetitive tone, Rui couldn't help but marvel at the human life he'd managed to resuscitate.

His hand was flush with the glass before he could stop himself, seeking familiar warmth he was unsure he could ever experience again. It was in its final stages, if not already ready; the human organs had successfully been rehabilitated and optimized.

Medically speaking, the human was living.

(If you could call it living.)

Even so, Rui was anxious. It was short lived—when he looked into the face of the human, he felt reassurance. This was the right choice.

And if it wasn't…it was too late to doubt his decision.

"What if it doesn't work," a familiar tone of voice spoke distantly, though Rui felt his chest vibrate as if the voice came from himself, "what if it's not right?"

He clicked his tongue, chuckled lightly in his usual manner of speaking, and responded:

"It will work, Tsukasa-kun. There's nothing to worry about." Without further hesitation, he took hold of the lever on the panel. "It has to work."

I have nothing left to lose.

A loud thunk echoed through the empty, repurposed bio lab once he pulled the lever. Before him, the liquid in the pod drained, and the suspended body descended with it, a victim of new gravity. But it didn't slump over, held up by sensors and other machinery to allow for a gentle place to rest until further notice.

Rui's hand moved from the lever to press the lower button on the panel, and the pod slowly opened.

The human before him almost looked…real. Rui took a deep breath, and idly wondered if all of this was going to have been worth it. The real test would begin now—to see if Tsukasa remembered anything, to see if Tsukasa was real and here after all.

"No," Rui chastised, "he is real. He's still here. He has to be."

It took a few more minutes for Rui to completely remove the straps from the body, but he left the life sensors connected for the sake of continuing to track organic bodily function. The EKG monitor hummed its rhythmic staccato tones—a sound which had become both comforting background noise and Rui’s only company for the past week.

To Rui, it was the final thread of hope he held onto; a lifeline, the string of fate binding his and Tsukasa's souls to one another. If there really was any such a thing as fate, then Rui reasoned it had to work in his favor. He couldn't lose Tsukasa (he already had, his mind unhelpfully supplied), and when all was said and done, Tsukasa's story and heroism being all that remained of his existence was something he simply found impossible to accept.

In the most recent attack, the injuries Tsukasa received had been critical to his vital organs. The human brain could survive 4 to 6 minutes without oxygen before sustaining notable damage and loss of functionality—the human heart was far more forgiving, able to last for an average of 25 minutes.

For all intents and purposes, Tsukasa had, clinically speaking, been dead for almost 8 minutes.

Rui refused to accept it as death. It was only 8 minutes. Tsukasa's lungs had taken the worst of the damage, but luckily, by some miracle, his heart had remained undamaged. It was okay—most of the irreparable organs Rui could replace. If there were no surrogate organs available, he would reconstruct his own (which, there weren't, and he did).

Lost in thought, Rui stared at the EKG monitor, only returning to the present moment when a small drone flew to his side. He smiled at the small robot, offered a short nod, and returned his focus to the human in front of him. With a firm, practiced dexterity, Rui reached both arms into the pod and extracted the body from where it rested. Delicately, he avoided detaching any sensors, turning to lay the human on a desk he'd repurposed into an exam table.

As Rui strode over to his workstation, he kept a close eye on the rise and fall of the human's chest, each unconscious breath reassuring Rui that this was more than an android, more than an imitation. All signs of life seemed to be appropriate. From his desk, he grabbed a stethoscope, draping it around his neck, and a standing blood pressure monitor. His eyes were off the human for only a few moments before he returned to the exam table, and he lifted one of the limp arms to slip on the blood pressure cuff. Rui activated it.

"Record the following data," he instructed the drone, receiving an acknowledging series of 3 beeps in response. He continued, "all physiological parameters are stable. Heart rate is resting at a BPM of 55." Rui paused for a moment as the blood pressure cuff released, and went on, "Systolic blood pressure, 112. Diastolic, 69. Respiration rate is at an average of 19."

The drone chirped in response, indicating the data had been recorded. Rui smiled, offering a quiet thank you before removing the cuff. He had to test a few more data samples, but, before that…

All that was left was for Tsukasa to wake up. Rui grew far too aware of the lingering scent of anesthetic—between both his exhaustion and grief catching up to him, the odor evoked a sense of nausea. He pulled up a lab chair, beside Tsukasa, and tried to mitigate his dizziness. He crossed his arms and sat, posture slumped, waiting for the android to wake up.

Minutes passed.

Lulled by the steady rhythm of the EKGs hollow tune, Rui nodded off a few times. After the third time, he rested his elbows on the edge of the table, rested his head in his arms, and allowed himself a moment to doze off a little more substantially.

It was no surprise that the exhaustion was catching up to him—he’d hardly slept at all since the attack. For the first time since it had happened, he felt at ease enough to allow himself a moment of respite. His sleep had been haunted by nightmares, and they were unsettling enough to leave Rui averse to resting at all.

But, this time was different. Tsukasa was here. Tsukasa was stable, breathing, and warm. Rui loosely took hold of Tsukasa's pinky and closed his eyes. He would wake up soon, so Rui shouldn't sleep, but he couldn't help it. He was far too tired.

Through the fog of repeated nightmares, he managed to have a pleasant dream. Somehow, it felt less like a dream, and more like a distant, unlived memory.

The air is warm—not too hot, not too cold. The interim of Summer meeting Autumn, briefly passing one another in an ephemeral instant. The sky casts a sunbeam upon Rui’s face between the gaps of tree branches and colorful leaves, filtering in the dreamy day glow of fall morning sun. The breeze against his skin feels like a sweet, loving caress. A gentle hand cards through his hair.

Rui’s eyelashes flutter open, and he's met with a brilliant amber-eyed stare. Their depths suit the turning leaves of the youthful season, and fond pupils dilate with affection when their eyes meet.

"Rui," the boy's familiar voice calls out to him. "You should wake up soon—class is about to start."

"Five more minutes," he mumbles through a yawn, letting his lazy eyes fall shut as a smile plays upon his face. "Your lap makes for the perfect pillow."

Above him, the bright boy sputters.

"I am no pillow! I am a future star!"

"Hmm," Rui hums, "future is a key aspect of that statement. Future star, current pillow."

"Well—well, fine! My stardom is inevitable, so long as you're my director, after all! Hah!"

The boy folds so easily. Rui opens his fond eyes to watch the bright boy bask in the promise, and Rui takes comfort in knowing that so long as things continue as they are, he'll always have a place by his side.

Tsukasa, whose hand hasn't once left Rui's hair this whole time.

"Hehe, it's true," Rui begins bravely, "the future seems more promising when we're together, don't you think?"

Tsukasa blinks, opens his mouth, and stares down at Rui. Not long after, a gentle red dusts his features (from his ears, to his cheeks, and down his neck), and the sight makes Rui's heart race. He brings his hand to rest atop Tsukasa's. Tsukasa doesn't breathe, doesn't say a word, just turns his hand over in Rui's so that their fingers intertwine. Tsukasa ducks his head with a bashful smile, and nods.

"That's how it always should be," he agrees softly, just loud enough for Rui to hear, "but you need to wake up now."

Rui closes his eyes stubbornly.

"I won't."

"…Rui," Tsukasa's voice responded, tone flat. "Are you sleeping? You should wake up soon."

Rui smiled, burying himself further in his own arms, before responding, "I told you, five more minutes—"

Suddenly, Rui jolted upright, and reality came crashing back into him.

The speed of the beep-beep-beep of the EKG increased, and Rui noted the familiar face sitting upright on the table in front of him. His hair was still wet from the recovery pod—Rui hadn't even gotten clothes for him. The boy didn’t seem to notice nor care.

It was wrong; it wasn’t right. It was okay, he could tweak it. Tsukasa would remember. Tsukasa would be fine.

With a gentle smile, Rui nodded, cupping the boy's cheek gingerly.

It was warm. Nearby memories of autumn breezes flashed through his mind, and his heart skipped a beat. He tried his best to calm his desperate and eager heart. Instead of answering, he had a simple request:

"Do you remember your name?"

The human stared at Rui blankly, all too unsettling until it eventually blinked, its pupils constricting.

"…Yes," it responded, still staring. "My name is Tenma Tsukasa."

It should have made Rui smile. It should have made him relieved.

Instead, it filled him with a sense of dread.

Tsukasa-kun, he wanted to say, you're back.

He couldn't, because it wasn't true.

An android sitting before him tilted its head, appraising Rui, and was quick to question, "Professor, are you alright? My sensors indicate moderate levels of distress to your emotional state."

Tsukasa never called him Professor; he wondered why the android did.

"…Yes, I'm fine," Rui responded quickly. "Human name: Tenma Tsukasa," he continued with a nod, speaking clinically, "however, it would be better for you to identify yourself under a different name."

"Understood. What would you have me called, Professor?"

"You are T-517 λ, the Pegasus Project, also known to be humanity's savior."

"Lambda," the android agreed easily. "Understood."

Rui scrunched up his nose, shaking his head in disagreement. It was wrong—Tsukasa would never concede so simply, wouldn't accept the lack of grandeur and whimsy to his title. Rui knew this, and it made the sting of knowing he'd failed all the more excruciating.

"…Hm," he hummed, "let's simply call you Pegasus."

The android blinked at him slowly, some sense of recognition passing through its gaze.

"Understood. I am Pegasus—the savior of humanity itself," it paused, locking eyes with Rui. "Your hero."

Rui offered a strained smile, turning away from Pegasus as he opened a container to pull out a sterile, dry, and heated towel. He returned as quickly as he'd left, drying off the damp, familiar sunset strands of the android's hair.

Pegasus looked at him, unfazed and accepting; it stared. Rui laughed through his nose, unable to help but stare in turn at the awake, alive face of his first love. Rui wanted to ask too much—do you remember anything at all, do you remember me, do you forgive me—but he was far too afraid to learn the answers.

In the end, he asked nothing.

"…Forever my hero," Rui agreed, unable to identify the heavy feeling in his heart.

Without further comment, he completed the medical examination for T-517, recording everything on an electronic patient chart.

Tsukasa never came back, but without a proper autopsy report, there was no official record of his death, either.

"Tenma Tsukasa" was a missing person.

Emu and Nene were worried about him. So much was obvious enough when he finally emerged from the bio lab, returning to the war room like nothing had changed, and no time had passed at all. Upon his arrival, in unison, both called out to him:

"Rui-kun!
"Rui!"

For his part, Rui offered an exhausted smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Neither of them knew about his activities over the past week, nor the product of his efforts, which made for an awkward moment when Pegasus followed after him through the door.

It was quiet, and then—

"Tsukasa-kun?!" Emu cried out. She started to run over, but stopped short in her tracks. Both she and Nene looked between the android and Rui, and heavy silence filled the air. "But…I thought…"

Pegasus looked at the two, offering an acknowledging nod, and wordlessly followed Rui in his silent shuffle to his desk. Rui answered none of the questions that lulled in the space between, unspoken; the silence was uncomfortable, but Rui ignored it.

There was no such thing as an elephant in the room if Rui refused to acknowledge it.

His desk remained the same as it had been a week ago. Rui eyed his abandoned projects, scattered notes, mindless doodles—until his eyes fell on the familiar communicator he had used to contact and track Tsukasa. His heart sank.

"Pegasus-kun," he spoke softly, holding out the device for the android to take. "Dispose of this. Otherwise, please make yourself comfortable."

"Understood, Professor." Pegasus took the radio from Rui's hands. He looked down at the device, giving it a long, hard stare. After a moment, he added, "…I don't want to destroy this."

Rui wondered why. The object meant nothing to it, and there was no logical reason for the android to be insubordinate to him—most of his developed AI's took his word as the be all and end all.

…Then again, Pegasus was not a true AI. It was true that Rui rehabilitated Tsukasa's heart and brain, so it made little to no sense for Tsukasa not to remember himself entirely in the first place. So why was he so distinctly not Tsukasa, yet still in possession of a sense of human-like agency of the real deal?

Rui waved his hand dismissively.

"Then, you can keep it. I'd rather not look at it."

"Rui, what's going on?" Nene finally cut in. Nene and Emu had been more than aware of Tsukasa's death, so it came as no surprise this was their reaction to T-517 λ. Rui didn't want to be questioned about it, though. Selfishly, he didn't want Pegasus to know he was replacing somebody else—an irreplaceable existence, at that.

"Pegasus has been rehabilitated," he responded simply, careful not to show any emotion. "Isn't that right, Pegasus-kun?"

The android was still staring at the communicator, and only looked up after being addressed.

"…Yes. The professor restored my physiological functionality," Pegasus offered. He paused, and in the space between, nobody spoke. His other two team members were looking on in what he could only assume was absolute horror. When nobody said anything, Pegasus added, "…There is no cause for immediate concern. My physical condition is currently stable. There are no abnormalities—system status is optimal."

It was jarring to hear Tsukasa speak so clinically. While Rui desensitized himself to any sort of grief, the same couldn't be said for Emu and Nene.

"…What did you do," Nene barely managed. Rui couldn't look at her. "Why is he talking like that, why is he…"

Alive, he was certain she wanted to say. Rui was grateful that she didn't, but…

"What are we going to tell his family?" Emu suddenly cut in, speaking slow and uncertain. "We already have to tell them Tsukasa-kun—"

This line of discussion was dangerous to have while Pegasus was listening and present. Rui had to cut it short.

"—is alive and well," Rui interrupted. "There's no reason for his family to worry."

Tsukasa's "death" had never been reported. Tsukasa's family had no idea anything had happened. Rui intended to keep it that way for as long as possible—both for his own sake (selfish) and for Pegasus'.

There was no way Rui could face them; there was no way Rui could tell them their son had…

"I've already contacted his family and taken care of it," he lied. "In the meantime, please have patience while Pegasus-kun's memory recovers."

"Why would you…" Nene struggled to find words, slowly continuing, "what's the need for him? Like this, he's…"

"Humanity cannot lose its hero," he was entirely lying at this point, not even believing his own words. "Tsukasa-kun is a symbol. What he represents for humanity cannot be forgotten."

"That's…" Emu looked at him with a watery stare, struggling to find words. "Rui-kun, this isn't…"

"Humanity needs a hero," he continued coldly. "If they want a hero, they will have their hero."

It was with great reluctance and uncertainty that Emu and Nene regarded him. That was fine—this was the new reality of their situation. They would have to accept it eventually—Tsukasa or not, Pegasus was needed. Even if Rui himself didn't quite believe that, either.

For the first time since the incident, Rui wondered if Tsukasa was truly as good as dead. Even if his memory were to be restored, would he still be Tsukasa, or something else entirely?

Rui didn’t dare think more about it.

"Professor."

Rui lifted his head from his desk, drool sticking to his lab jacket sleeve as he pulled away. There was an offensively strong aroma of coffee and burnt toast in the air that assaulted his nose, nearly making him nauseous given how exhausted he was. He squinted at the time displayed on his monitor, reading 7:00 AM on the dot. It was far too early to be awake, especially when he had only slept for two hours.

His newfound android companion tried to get him to sleep around 11:30 PM the night before, but eventually let him be when Rui would continue to work despite his reminders (nagging, if Rui thought of it in a human sense). Rui wound up staying awake working until about 5:00AM.

With a tired swivel of his chair, he turned to look toward the speaker. He couldn’t help but smile at the familiar face, at the sight of Pegasus holding a plate and mug before him.

"It is 7:00 AM. Sunrise today was at 5:01 AM. The day has started, which means you need to eat. I have prepared appropriate rations."

Rui looked over the plate, and he couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous "appropriate rations" looked. There was no way that Pegasus actually thought was substantial sustenance.

What a curious phenomenon—most of Rui's AI companions pulled their learning from a knowledge database; Rui wondered if it had something to do with Pegasus using Tsukasa's brain as a basis for its own learning.

"Surely that's inedible," Rui finally replied, regarding the burnt toast and butter with a sense of humor.

"Oh. I apologize." Pegasus' eyes fall down to the plate, appraising the food. "I simply used existing sample data to prepare. I did not realize it was inadequate." A pause, and then, "Will you not eat?"

Rui felt an overwhelming wave of affection wash over him, and he reached out to take both the plate and the mug.

"No, I will—thank you, Pegasus-kun. This is a very kind effort."

Pegasus said it pulled from sample data, though. That was an important confirmation of Rui's prior suspicions. Rui hadn't programmed any such data, so that could only mean Pegasus could access Tsukasa's memories. At the back of his mind, Rui hoped it might be the start of Tsukasa returning to his own humanity.

More importantly, it begged the question—had Tsukasa been bad at cooking? Rui had such a reliable, capable image of him in his head, so the possibility never crossed his mind.

…Actually, Rui remembered an instance, wherein Tsukasa had prepared rice balls (a simple enough process), but they were misshapen, kind of falling apart, and a bit salty. At the time, Rui hadn't thought much of it, but faced with the burnt toast before him, he could only chuckle.

There was so much he had yet to learn about Tsukasa, it seemed. When Tsukasa came back, Rui would be sure to commit everything he could to memory.

For the better part of ten minutes, Rui nibbled and munched on the toast, taking great care to finish it all. While he ate, Pegasus flitted about the lab, organizing Rui's research and workspaces. Rui would have told it not to bother, since he would just make a mess all over again, but he'd prefer that over the android simply staring at him while he ate. It was just a little bit tedious, but Pegasus wasn't trying to force feed him vegetables, so Rui counted it as a success.

Regardless, by the time he finished eating, Pegasus was suddenly back by his side, ready to take the plate from Rui, and upon seeing Rui left no crumbs, looked more than a little pleased. Rui decided a little burnt toast was worth it.

The coffee the android prepared was also all too strong, but it wasn't so bad—better than the toast, at least. After Rui finished the whole cup and set it aside, Pegasus was quick to pick it up with a small smile.

"Good, you enjoyed it," it hummed surprisingly casually, "having something in your system is better than nothing at all."

Rui almost expected Pegasus to say more, but it seemed satisfied with the achievement as it was. Was it really that much of a concern for Rui to eat…?

Breakfast completed and Pegasus appeased, Rui let out a great yawn and stretched his arms upward.

"Well, if that's all, then I'll get a bit more sleep—"

Pegasus frowned.

"But the day has only just begun," he stated, confused.

"And I've slept a total of two hours," Rui retorted sarcastically, "goodnight."

Before he could slump his head back down on his desk, Pegasus' hands slotted firmly under Rui's armpits, attempting to lift him up. In a panic, Rui attempted to wrap his legs around the piston of the chair, as if doing so would magically make himself heavier. It didn't work very well.

"What are you—"

"That's unacceptable." Pegasus continued to lift him off the chair, at which Rui panicked.

"Now, hold on—" Rui whined, and planted his feet firmly on the ground.

When Pegasus stopped trying to lift him, he relaxed, feeling triumphant in the small win. Before he could think past that thought, Pegasus' arms looped under his legs, swooping him up into a bridal carry.

The familiarity of it caused Rui to completely lose his train of thought. Something about it made Rui pale. A name was on the tip of Rui's tongue, but his thought was cut short when almost immediately, Pegasus' concern followed.

"Are you alright? My sensors indicate distress," Pegasus spoke cautiously, in mild panic (which was decidedly odd, in and of itself), rushing to set Rui down. "I-I'm sorry."

If Rui hadn't been awake before, he certainly was now.

Pegasus awkwardly took a step away from him, a small, borderline embarrassed frown on his face. It was so familiar, Rui couldn't help but let out an affectionate chuckle. Somehow, this reaction caused Pegasus to duck his head and avoid looking at Rui, and notably, his cheeks flushed lightly.

How curious, Rui thought.

"…No, it's alright," Rui hums, regarding Pegasus thoughtfully. "Though I am curious, what compelled you to take such actions this morning?"

"I…I do not know," came the softly-spoken reply. "I just wanted…to…"

Pegasus trailed off, struggling to put thoughts into a well packaged explanation. Still, it tried.

"I wanted you to get up, so I did the only thing I could think to get you to do so. I apologize."

Before Rui could respond, Pegasus was bowing deeply. Rui pondered this.

For now, he would continue to observe Pegasus. Something compelled him to do so, as if the key to bringing Tsukasa back was patience alone.

Rui could wait; he could hang on, just a little longer.

Three weeks passed.

Oddly, there had been no attacks in that time. Unnerving as it was, it allowed more opportunities for Rui to observe and run diagnostic tests on T-517 λ.

Emu and Nene had been avoiding him, more or less. Or, maybe they had been avoiding Pegasus. It was hard to tell, since the two hadn't spent a moment apart from one another. Point being: Rui knew the two were, at best, unsettled with T-517’s existence.

…Still, Rui wished they would talk to him, or say anything—he wasn't sure why they hadn't. Wondershow was Rui's family. In the span of a month, it felt as if he had no family left.

Eventually, he stopped bothering to go to the war room, and it seemed his new routine was posting up in the bio lab. It was alright. He had Pegasus.

Before the development of T-517 λ, Nene would often fetch and order supplies Rui needed for his projects and research. Idly, Rui wondered if she would have done the same, had he been transparent about his attempts to resuscitate Tsukasa.

For her part, Emu would often support his most outlandish of strategies, particularly when Nene and Tsukasa wouldn't (and couldn't) understand them. Since Rui hadn't been going anywhere anymore, though, he hadn't seen Emu at all. She didn't seek him out.

Rui hadn't developed any new defensive weapons or strategies for either girl to have any sort of need to go out of their way to talk to him. He couldn't blame them. Rui wasn't sure he'd want to keep the company of someone who made a living android of a supposed-to-be deceased friend. For all intents and purposes, Rui was a modern day necromancer.

Rui was about to run brain scans on T-517 when the ship's PA system sounded. Both Rui and Pegasus looked up at the loud chime, before an announcement echoed through the lab.

"The Space Opera is now descending into the Tokyo Outpost Air Craft Terminal. Please prepare for landing."

The PA system hadn't been used at all since their team became so small. The other two were definitely avoiding him, or at the very least didn't know how to approach him. Rui scrunched his nose up at the thought; perhaps, he really was a monster. There was no time to feel sorry for himself, however, when the implications of the announcement hit him.

"We left Kyoto…?" he mumbled. It was going to be problematic for Rui if they weren't returning soon. That was a problem for later, though; there was no point in worrying over it if they were already docking at the Tokyo Outpost.

The reason for returning to Tokyo didn't matter, either—Rui would stay on the ship all the same, locked up in his lab. Tokyo had far more military units and mercenary squads defending it, so, at the very least, it meant they weren't the only line of defense for any sudden attacks.

For now, something had been bothering him about the brain functionality of T-517 λ.

Pegasus tilted its head at Rui.

"Professor," he stated calmly. "Do you wish to proceed with the scan?"

As days had gone by, Pegasus seemed to show further symptoms of humanity, occasionally presenting a personality that was unnervingly similar to Tsukasa's. It was unclear if the phenomenon was the slow return of Tsukasa altogether, or if T-517 λ was using its own intelligence to develop an AI personality—using Tsukasa's heart and brain as a framework.

Rui didn't know if it was something he'd get an answer for; Rui wasn't sure if it was something he wanted to know the answer to, unless it was Tsukasa returning home.

It was complicated.

Rui knew it was unfair to T-517.

"…Yes, there's something I want to verify," Rui responded coolly. "Sit."

Pegasus did.

…Something about it felt almost familiar.

"Don't move more than necessary," Rui additionally mumbled, before striding over to his workstation. There was no need to say it—T-517 sat still, as if it awaited further instructions.

From his desk, he lifted up a headset—designed specifically to fit T-517 λ, and connect directly with the different regions of the brain in order to record a comprehensive scan of memories retained in Tsukasa's brain. Its purpose, if Rui had to make a direct comparison, was most similar in function to an MRI machine, though the end result was different enough.

Rui returned to sit chair-side to T-517, and placed the headset on its head. His hands lingered on the sides of T-517's face, and his fingers traced down its jawline, feeling the soft skin. He brushed his thumb over its cheeks—the scarring from previous battles was faint, but still apparent upon further inspection.

Rui was in awe at the familiarity of it. Memories of dirtied cotton and patched up scrapes came to mind, and for a moment, Rui was taken aback by bittersweet nostalgia.

His hand lingered. He closed his eyes and shifted his palm to cup Tsukasa's cheek.

It was warm. Under his touch, Tsukasa squirmed. How like him to do so.

Tsukasa always gets flustered so easily.

Rui smiled, and opened his eyes.

"I—" Pegasus began, brow furrowed, and looked up at Rui. "I'm…confused, is this part of it?"

Rui snatched his hand back as though he'd been burned.

"No, it's not," he sheepishly stammered, "I..I'm sorry."

"…What for? I don't understand—"

"For getting sidetracked," Rui clarified.

Pegasus stared, and Rui sighed.

"Let's continue."

How embarrassing.

Stiffly, Rui attached the connected sensors to T-517's temples, before rolling back over to his workstation to connect the cord of the helmet to the computer. He took a moment to collect himself.

After a deep breath, Rui pressed a button, powering on the display out of thin air. Rui tapped the hologram in a few places, opening up the software he'd developed for this exact purpose.

If it worked correctly, it should be able to replay Tsukasa's memories as if they were a video recording from one of his drones. He pulled up a 3D diagram of Tsukasa's brain anatomy, and then glanced over his shoulder.

"I know you already know this, but once we run the scan, it should upload and record the brain's biological processes, encoding them as hard data. You will be conscious during this process. Once the upload is complete, you should be able to remove the headset."

Rui needed to know if Tsukasa's memories were intact, and if so, why T-517 λ's database couldn't connect with them.

"Understood," the android responded. "I'm ready."

Rui nodded.

"I'm starting the scan. Hold still."

Within seconds of pressing begin scan, the helmet lit up, and the program seemed to be running smoothly.

"…Pegasus-kun," he called out, his eyes not leaving the screen, "are you in any pain?"

"…No."

"Good."

Rui watched as the program automated a transcription of data into legible notes. He rotated the 3D model of the brain, observing the different regions and aspects.

It would take a lot of time to analyze all of the data, but the upload should be quick and painless. Assuming the transfer worked as intended, T-517 should at least maintain regular functionality. The technology was foolproof—Rui couldn't cut any corners. Even so, he needed to pick and choose carefully—any memory would do, but the more time he could save, the better. It was just a test, after all; but still, Rui favored efficiency.

There were many features of the human brain that dealt with memory. The hippocampus seemed like a safe starting point, but morbid curiosity got the better of him as he instead tapped the amygdala. He sorted the displayed data by recency, parsing through junk files.

Data strings, file names, and dates populated on the screen. There were a few gaps, sometimes in days, others in weeks, but consistent no less. Rui wondered if he could puzzle out any kind of pattern to them. Nothing particularly stuck out in a way Rui could glean anything, without scrubbing every data file and investigating.

He clicked his tongue in frustration. Any sort of starting point would do, anything—

One entry caught his attention. If the surface level information wasn't burned into the back of Rui's mind, he may have missed it altogether. But there was no mistaking it.

amygdala_MemoryTransfer_string_ 1012.zip 8/8/2121 9:48 A.M.

…The most recent file and date matched Tsukasa's time of death.

Rui's hands moved faster than rational thought, and he extracted the data folder.

Rui wasn't sure where to go from there. The largest file was an .Mp4, followed by miscellaneous text data that was too vague or incomprehensible to decipher. For now, he'd put a pin in it.

The data was copied into a new folder labeled, "Comprehensive Memory Test", before he moved on to investigate the hippocampus. Rather than search haphazardly, Rui once again sorted the data by date, pulling everything dated 8/8/2121 and 8/7/2121, for good measure. He extracted and dragged those files into the new folder.

"…This should be enough data to conduct the test," Rui announced. "Let me know if you feel anything out of the ordinary—anything at all. Otherwise, please bear with me a little longer, Pegasus-kun."

…No response.

Rui paused, looking back at the android.

"Pegasus-kun?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah," Pegasus all too casually responded, "There isn't any pain on my end—don't worry."

"…Alright, then. I'm going to parse the data."

For now, Rui started with data from the 7th of August. There are a few files. Four catch his eyes.

hippocampus_Rui_kamogawa_aSBsb3ZlIHlvdSAg.txt
hippocampus_Rui_kamogawa_c3RheSBieSBteSBzaWRl.txt
hippocampus_Rui_kamogawa_ZG9uJ3QgZm9yZ2V0IG1l.Mp4
hippocampus_Rui_kamogawa_Y29tZSB3aXRoIG1l.wav

The first file was as good a starting point as any. There were a lot of junk data strings—an unfortunate symptom of his software being a little underdeveloped. Still, Rui was proud of himself for being able to transcribe biological human processes into tangible, viewable data. It was okay if it didn't encode properly, for the time being.

Rui paused when his eye flitted over hardly legible thoughts put into words. If it wasn't specific enough, Rui would have thought nothing of it. The data read as follows:

U28sIHRoZSBLYW1vIFJpdmVyIGlzIGEgcG9wdWxhciBkYXRlIHNwb3Qs at least according to the information I could find on it U2luY2Ugd2UndmUgYmVlbiBzdGF0aW9uZWQgaW4 Kyoto IGl0IHdvdWxkbid0IGJlIHRoZSB3b3JzdCBwbGFjZSB0byBicmluZw Rui. I wonder how much Rui knows YWJvdXQgaXQsIGFueXdheS4gU3VyZWx5IGhlIGtub3dzLCByaWdodD8gSWYgSSB0ZWxsIGhpbSBJIHdhbnQgdG8gZ28sIGFuZCB3YW50IGhpbSB0byBjb21lIHdpdGggbWUs there's no way aGUgd291bGQgdGVsbCBtZSBubyB1bmxlc3MgaGUg doesn't feel the same d2F5LiBCdXQg I don't think he'll say no aWYgaGUga25vd3MuIEkgbGlrZSB0byB0aGluayA= Rui knows how I feel. U3RpbGwsIGl0IHdvdWxkbid0IGJlIHRoZSB3b3JzdCBwbGFjZSB0byB0ZWxsIGhpbSB0aGUg truth aWYgb25seSA= once.

Rui stared at the data string long for a long time,

"…The data didn't decode," Pegasus suddenly spoke, matter-of-factly. "I can read it. Do you want me to translate the data?"

Rui had half a heart to clap back with snark. If it were Tsukasa speaking to him, he might have a light tease. It took a moment for him to offer any sort of response as he considered this. Rui turned to look at the android with a nod, observing it closely.

"…Yes, I can see that it didn't."

Pegasus blinked at him, and almost looked hurt. Rui panicked, and quickly added, "if you don't mind."

Maybe Rui imagined it, but for a second, he swore that Pegasus' lips quirked up into a smile.

Rui didn't know what to make of that. He was about to speak again, before T-517 beat him to it.

"… 'the Kamo River is a popular date spot, at least according to the information I could find'," the android recited almost forcibly in a mechanical tone. " …'Since we've been stationed in Kyoto, it wouldn't be the worst place to bring Rui'."

Rui's heart sank. This packaged data seemed to be Tsukasa's thoughts from when he asked Rui to go to the river with him. Rui shook his head with a stiff frown. He kind of knew the moment held significance to Tsukasa, but having it confirmed in some twisted postmortem was harrowing. He could only assume the other files are similar. Guilt seated itself in his stomach like a stone.

"I…thank you, that's enough."

Pegasus paused, frowning.

"But—Rui, there's more." A pause. "I think you should hear it."

Rui chuckled lightly. "I know. It's alright." He paused, and gave Pegasus a once over. "Are you feeling alright?"

"…Oh," Pegasus couldn't seem to be able to meet his gaze, and responded with a strange, quiet "affirmative."

Rui nodded, and returned his focus to the screen. It was safe to assume these four files all addressed the same information, and he briefly wondered how something as volatile and unpredictable as emotion could translate into accurate raw data.

There was nothing he stood to gain from investigating. Rui only needed to understand why T-517 didn't seem able to establish a connection to the data. He gestured to swipe the folder away, but instead, he accidentally opened a file.

"Oops—"

From the speakers of the system, Tsukasa's voice desperately rang out, and Rui jumped.

"I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to die!"

Rui's eyes widened. He stared at the file name, in .wav format, dated to 8/8/2121.

"Somebody—help me—I can't die, not here—Mom, Dad, Saki—without me, they'll…"

Rui was frozen in shock.

"Rui—Rui can…—!"

He was nauseous.

"I don't want to go."

He couldn't stop it.

"I want to stay here! I want to li—"

A hand slammed into the hologram screen beside him, somehow closing the file. The silence that followed left the room feeling hollow.

Rui couldn't stop shaking. He wasn't prepared. His eyes stared at the hand that lowered from the screen, following up the arm, to stare at T-517. Rui expected the android to be unfazed, perhaps even cold—but the expression he was met with was far from it.

Brow furrowed. Pained. Confused, maybe, or…?

"Rui—" Pegasus began, somehow looking small, "my head hurts."

"…It's alright." It sounded distant to Rui's ears, but he could tell it was his own voice. "I'm here. Tell me where it hurts."

"My entire head—it feels as if it's going to burst, like it's throbbing, burning—" Pegasus spoke with mounting distress, not dissimilar to the way Tsukasa's voice rang out from the data extraction. It put Rui on edge. "Rui, make it stop—"

The upload finished, so T-517 shouldn't be experiencing any sort of distress.

With quick and delicate dexterity, Rui removed the sensors, then the headset.

Tsukasa screamed.

Clumsily, Rui placed the headset on his desk. He couldn't think straight.

Rui attempted to usher the android back to the medical table. When it didn’t budge, Rui picked it up. The screaming turned into something that sounded more like crying, then whimpering.

"System report," he spoke rigidly, detached from himself.

Rui wanted to start over—to start again. To reset. In theory, he could hard reset the android's functionality, but something in his heart implored him not to. He was so close, he could feel it.

Somewhere, Tsukasa was in there. 

Rui carried T-517 back to the table. He sat it upright. When Rui tried to step away, it latched on to him. Rui couldn't understand why.

"Don't go," was spoken softly. "Don't leave me behind."

"…What?" Rui stared. "S-System report—" he repeated.

Tsukasa stared back at Rui, desperation apparent. "Stay here. Please. Rui—"

"Don't—don't call me that," Rui heaved, shivering. "Why are you calling me that—"

"Understood. I will not make any more mistakes," T-517 suddenly responded, "I will be very careful. I won't get hurt. I will be sure to get it right this time." Rui could only stare in horror, while the android continued, "I am a good hero. I will not fail again. I will succeed. Rui. Rui. Rui. Rui. I will make you proud. I will never leave you. I will remember. I will come back to you."

"Stop, please—"

"I will not let you down. I will not die this time. I want to live. I am a good hero. I will be your hero. I will be your everything."

Rui brought his hand up, cupping the android's face, desperately hoping it would somehow break Pegasus out of whatever this was. The android continued, despite the effort.

"I love you," echoed hollowly through the lab. Rui suddenly couldn't breathe. "I will always love you. I will love you forever. I love you to the moon and back."

Rui dropped his hands, choking back a sob. "Not like this." With shaky hands, he reached around the back of the android's neck, searching for the emergency mechanism he'd implemented.

He couldn't remember how to trigger it—

"I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I lo—"

Click.

Rui somehow managed to trigger the shut down. Without warning, the body slumped forward, into Rui's chest, and the android's eyes turned blank. Rui held the android with uneasy hands, trying to steady his breaths as he tried to process what had just happened.

Still, Pegasus was warm, still breathing; Tsukasa was still alive.

With a choked sob, Rui buried his face into the crook of Pegasus' neck, clinging to the android desperately.

He just wanted Tsukasa back.

The air was so stiffly quiet that when there came a tentative knock at the door, Rui couldn't bring himself to play dumb and ignore it. Emu and Nene's voices were muffled from the other side.

Rui didn't move. Unable to release Pegasus, he just held on like a lifeline. To be seen like this would be nothing short of humiliating, a sign of ultimate failure, with no choice but to accept the outcome. They couldn't come in, they couldn't see him like this, he couldn't put them through this absolute grief—

"Rui?" Nene's voice asked softly. "Please, open the door." A pause, and then, "we're worried."

Rui opened his mouth, tried to call out to them, to say anything. Instead, he just heaved a broken sob.

Within seconds, the door whirred open—and in ran a panicked Nene and Emu.

"Rui!"
"Rui-kun!"

The two were by his side in seconds, and Nene's hand gently came to rest on his back. Rui lifted his head from the collapsed android, and he could barely make out Emu and Nene's faces behind his tear-filled eyes. The two hovered for a moment. Rui's body shook with grief, wrecked with sobs that could barely break away from his throat.

"Rui," Nene repeated, softly but with a touch of forcefulness. "It's okay, we're here now. It'll—it'll be okay."

It was clear neither Nene nor Emu knew how to handle the situation. What was he expecting, anyway? What did Rui expect when he'd been isolating himself for the better part of a month, the only handle he had left on his sanity being a malfunctioning imitation of his favorite person?

Rui couldn't face it.

Gently, Emu attempted to peel T-517 from Rui. For a moment, Rui released his hold, the shock of T-517's malfunction still sitting in his bones. As he blinked back tears, his vision came into focus—staring right at Tsukasa's lifeless body in front of him, slumped against—

Rubble. The trickling sound of water at an otherwise empty riverbank. It's quiet, it's desolate.

There's blood in the water.

Rui stared. His eyes widened in horror as he mechanically looked up at Emu. Her mouth moved, brow knit with foggy, but evident concern.

Rui couldn't hear anything. His ears were ringing and pounding, as a familiar, sinking pressure felt like it was crushing his head. Suddenly, his skin was burning and frozen, all at once, and his body was heavy, as if he was moving through molasses—

"I let him die—" Rui barely managed, mumbling, near incoherent and frenzied, his mind moving a mile faster than his mouth, "I killed him, I killed him—"

An unforgettable scream pierced loudly through his haze, impressed on his brain as if it'd happened just yesterday. The sinister gleam of bloodstained obsidian stark in his mind, and Tsukasa—

Tsukasa.

"Ts..Tsukasa-kun, I—!" Rui choked out. Emu let out a startled yelp, and Nene's grip on him faltered. In that small moment, Rui lunged forward and hugged the inactive android desperately. As he buried his face against T-517's neck, he fell apart entirely.

"I didn't mean for this— I didn't mean to—I'm sorry, I'm sorry—I…I should have…gone with you…I should have—" A broken sob tore from his throat.

"Rui-kun, you need to let go, please…!" Emu cried. Shaking still, Rui held on tighter. It was as if releasing the android would make it disappear entirely. Nene's hands pulled with a cautious firmness at his arms, and Emu shifted the inactive body to lay back on the lab table.

Suddenly, arms were around him; they were holding him, comforting him. Emu and Nene were both here, with him. They were here.

His family.

"I just—want him back," he barely managed to choke out. "Why did he—have to go? Why didn't I…why couldn't I—"

"Rui, it's okay—" Nene cut in, thought her voice wavered, "it was never your fault."

It was.

Emu nodded, sniffling against Rui's head.

"Tsukasa-kun—he wouldn't want you to blame yourself and suffer like this, Rui-kun—" she laughed, watery yet warm. "He would probably say something, like, 'Smile, Rui! I much prefer the way you smile!'"

Rui wanted to argue, to say it was wrong, that it was his fault, that Tsukasa would never forgive him. He opened his mouth to argue, but in the arms of his friends, he simply couldn't find the strength. Everything that had led up to this moment was a product of his own selfishness.

All of this—the way it had been dragged out and ignored was just a sad invention to delay the inevitable truth:

Tenma Tsukasa was dead.

The Space Opera had been docked at the Tokyo Outpost for almost an hour, now.

It had taken great effort, but Rui managed to calm down from his panic attack, thanks to the help of his friends. No matter what happened from this point on, Rui would accept one final farewell: to the lies, to shared dreams, and to the indisputable love of his life.

They didn't reactivate the android. Rui wasn't certain when he would be prepared to face that. Logically, he knew they would have to when the inevitability of another attack struck, but for now, it was just as well.

Even so, the grief it left behind was overwhelming, like a stormcloud lingering overheard, threatening to deluge at any moment.

Rui didn't know when everything would become too much to handle, nor did he know when he would break. As he exited the jet bridge, his gaze met with the sight of Tenma Saki and her mother, waiting for a beloved brother and reliable son. Rui thought that if he were to break down entirely, perhaps it'd be sooner rather than later.

Upon catching sight of him coming down from the ship, Saki's eyes lit up. With a bright smile, she waved widely. Rui couldn't pretend he didn't see it, and he could only move forward.

He approached Tsukasa's family, each footstep feeling heavier than the last.

"Rui-san!" Saki called out.

Inevitability beckoned him closer, and he could only move forward.

Beside her, a caring mother smiled brightly at him; she reminded Rui so much of her son.

He had to let go, and this was the first step in doing so, and he could only move forward.

Rui had to face the truth eventually—he only wished it hadn't been so hard.

"Tenma-san, Saki-kun," Rui greeted, smiling distantly. "Have you come to see Tsukasa-kun?"

Saki pouted, then offered an aggressive nod.

"More like scold him! He hasn't called in almost a month!" she explained. "I know he's busy being a hero, but—!!"

Beside her, Saki's mother laughed. "Saki, go easy on your brother, hm? You know he's been working hard for everyone."

"Even so! Rui-san, do you know why he hasn't called? It's unlike him!" She paused, then smiled slyly. "Unless…have you been keeping him all to yourself?"

Rui wasn't entirely sure what her unvoiced question was, but he can tell it was there.

That aside, he stared at the two dumbly. Tsukasa's calls to his family—Rui hadn't accounted for them in the slightest; they had all but slipped his mind, not that he could have done much about them in the first place.

Saki's comment stung, though—in some sad, morbid way, it had been true. It wasn't her fault, either; he knew that with being left in the dark, she had no way of knowing just how striking that comment was.

"…Yes, I suppose I have," he admitted softly. "I'm sorry for distracting him so exponentially."

The mother and daughter looked between one another, and both smiled as they regarded Rui anew. This time, Tsukasa's mother spoke.

"Please don't apologize, Rui-kun. I'm sure Tsukasa is thrilled about that," she paused thoughtfully, before continuing, "staying by your side is important to him, after all."

Rui was finding it difficult to breathe. Tsukasa wanted to stay by his side—well, Rui wanted the same, so that came as no surprise, but to hear it so honestly from Tsukasa's family was nothing short of suffocating. How was he supposed to admit that Tsukasa had died, had been killed at the folly of Rui's care?

Pegasus kept protecting people in Tsukasa's place. From an outside perspective, nothing had changed.

From behind him, Rui heard Emu and Nene call out to them. As they approached, they both seemed cautious—

"Emu-chan! Nene-chan!" Saki greeted the two brightly. "It's been a while! It's so good to see you both!"

Saki looked past the two expectantly, waiting for a brother who would never come. As if his arrival was nothing short of inevitable.

Rui glanced back at his other two unit members, and cautious uncertainty was shared between the three of them. There was only one thing left to air, then:

The truth.

Rui faced forward; straight ahead, toward the bright, expectant faces of a loving family. Rui had been on the other side of this sort of conversation, and he knew that there was no way to sugarcoat a loss like this.

"Tenma-san, Saki-kun, there's…something I need to tell you," Rui began cautiously.

Both women offered him a light curiosity, one that made it so starkly apparent they weren’t thinking anything close to what he was about to tell them.

"It's…about Tsukasa-kun," he continued, swallowing thickly as he tried to find the words to tell them everything that had happened. "You see, Tsukasa-kun is actually…"

Rui hesitated. He didn't know what else he could say, how he could say it. Behind him, Emu and Nene stepped closer, and Nene placed a hand on his back.

We're here with you.

It would be okay—one way or another, it had to be.

Rui felt a twist of grief rise inside him. He was certain it showed on his face, as slowly, both Saki and her mother's faces fell.

"…Where's my brother?" Saki asked.

Rui paused, casting his eyes downward as he considered the words to say. If (when) it was him, he would want to hear it as directly as possible—no room for hope, no room for bargaining. Rui knew this, and yet, when faced with the responsibility of it all, he was at a loss for words.

"Tsukasa-kun was killed."

Rui winced at how sterile his sentence ended up coming out, both an acceptance and contradiction to the way his heart hammered. The feelings he held inside for so long were finally addressed with one single admission, to both Tsukasa's family, and himself.

Rui accepted that Tsukasa was dead. Despite his grief, despite the impossibility of it all, Rui wanted to bring him back anyway, even if something like that was truly impossible. 

Rui nearly wanted to cry, but he wouldn't. He didn't feel it was his place to, in any case.

Not when Tsukasa's family stood before him. A family that welcomed him into their home, trusted him with the task of taking care and looking after a dear brother and precious son, welcomed them into their very family itself.

It was something he could never have really been a part of, wasn't it? No matter how much he may have wanted it.

"…What?" Saki's mother questioned, a shocked, pained disbelief in her tone. "Rui-kun, please—please tell us you're lying. Tsukasa—he couldn't be—"

The pain of this line of conversation stung, just like it had all those years ago. It was a loss. Still, Rui had to put on a brave face, no matter how much the loss shook him, too.

"I suppose, on technicality, I could be lying. I'll spare the details," he continued, his detached tone betraying his own heart, "but as things are, Tsukasa-kun is dead."

"…But the reports—" Saki reasoned, desperate, in denial, tears falling, "he was fine! Just days ago, he was fine—he was fine, and there have been no attacks since then, how could he have died since then?!"

"I—" Rui cuts in, nearly forgetting himself, before pulling back and suddenly calmly stating, "I'm taking care of it. "

He couldn't tell them, in the end. How could he, when he couldn't tell the same to himself?

"What do you mean?" Saki's mother asked. "Is he…is he alive or not?"

Mother and daughter stared at him, brows furrowed through their tears. Rui would understand if they were to hate him, if they were to blame him for the loss.

Rui blamed himself, too.

"…for the length of time Tsukasa-kun hasn't made contact—that's how long he's been dead. But, I…" Rui swallowed heavily, clenching his fists to his sides. "I believe he's still alive."

"Rui—" Nene suddenly implored from behind him, frowning. "That's not—"

"It's the truth."

Nene's hand moved from his back. He knew it wasn't what either Emu or Nene wanted him to say, nor believe.

After the display of T-517's malfunction, Rui wasn't sure how he himself could still be holding on to one last thread of hope. It was not Rui's place to play god. Even so, he couldn't help himself. Tsukasa had to still be there; Rui was so close to truly bringing him home.

"Just—please, hold on a little longer," he practically begged, "I can bring him back."

Even now, Rui still couldn't admit it, after all. He had to make it right—it was his fault, he had to fix it, and…

Tsukasa's mother looked at him with an understanding look of what must have been pity; the expression was quickly replaced by one of sadness. Suddenly, she approached Rui. Rui closed his eyes, bracing himself for some kind of impact: a slap to the face, a shove, anything. It was the least he deserved, for everything he'd done.

There had to be something to prove that he truly deserved nothing, that he had to pay for both his actions and non-actions, that Tsukasa was dead because of him–it would become a burden Rui would shoulder for as long as he lived.

(It already was.)

Instead, the warm, caring embrace that only a mother could provide pulled him close, holding him steady, and Tsukasa’s mother cried.

"I'm sure this hasn't been easy on you either," she somehow managed through tears. "It's—it's okay, Rui-kun."

Rui didn't understand. In his confusion, he hugged her back, staring at Saki behind her mother as if it'd answer any of his questions. There were no answers—just understanding and a shared grief.

…Grief, of which he was somehow a part of. Why?

"Thank you, Rui," she wept, holding him closely. "Thank you—all of you—for looking after him all this time. I'm sure it wasn't an easy task…"

It wasn't right. She shouldn't be thanking him. Rui didn't do anything to warrant any kind of gratitude, let alone a "thank you"; he didn't do anything to deserve this level of care, when faced with the loss of a dear, beloved child—she should be cursing him out, resenting him for being unable to protect Tsukasa when it mattered.

Saki slowly made her way closer, and despite everything, smiled at him with a nod.

"…Rui-san," she started softly, "please don't blame yourself. My brother wouldn't have wanted that, either—" Saki sniffled, wiping her tears, but they continued to fall. She smiled at him regardless, despite her own pain—why?

Their mother released Rui from the embrace, and her face was a mess with tears, too.

Rui didn't understand. Saki's hand came to hold his own, squeezing gently.

"You did everything you could for him, right?" she asked, sniffling as more tears fell. "Just like he loved you, you loved him too, right?"

Rui felt as if he'd been punched in the gut.

From behind him, he felt warm, familiar hands on his back, and he briefly glanced to see Emu and Nene at either side. It was as if it was something they thought Rui needed—to know he was not alone, that everything that had happened was a shared sorrow between all of them. He laughed, breathy and not all there, and couldn’t accept the support, even if it was all he had left (in a way, it was). Tsukasa was gone because of him, after all. They all cared about Tsukasa, and they all grieved from the hole he left behind. 

Rui was responsible for that empty space left behind. He didn’t deserve anything like sympathy or empathy. 

"My brother…" Saki continued, wiping her tears with the back of her sleeve. She squeezed his hand again. "He was…he was a true hero—he loved, and was loved in return like one, too. So…it's…okay."

Saki hid her face behind her sleeve, and cried. Still, she held his hand. Her mother came to her side, and wrapped her arms around her, and kissed her head.

They were grieving, yet still made an effort to give Rui the space to grieve, too.

He didn't understand. It was his fault.

Rui blinked at the two of them, but still didn't cry.

Distantly, he remembered their mother calling him part of the family.

For the first time, he actually felt that was true.

And yet, he didn't deserve it.

A few days, nearly a week, quietly passed after that, without many (if any) attacks. Around the outpost, rumors that the invasion was over were floating about. Rui didn't buy it. There was simply no way that after all this time, their defensive and offensive forces had finally broken through, that there were no more threats on the horizon.

More than that, Rui couldn't accept it.

If it were true, then why did Tsukasa have to die? On some sick, morbid level, Rui nearly wished they would continue, if only to justify the loss. A loss that he was slowly learning to accept. Grief came in waves, and when he laid alone in his loft (a rare exception) at nightfall, he allowed himself (another rare exception) to cry.

…It was bittersweet, ultimately. If he had known the threat of attacks would have been so close to coming to a close, he would have done everything he could to have kept Tsukasa where he belonged—with Wondershow, and by Rui's side.

Tsukasa should have been there, still.

In the past week, Wondershow's operations had been scattered. To start, the team of three took stock of the ship's needs, everything they might need. In the event of an emergency, they would be prepared to do their part. Meanwhile, the engineering team anticipated taking about a week or so, while the ship was docked, to perform a comprehensive maintenance.

In that time, Emu, Nene, and Rui all had their own priorities to follow through on. While there was no presumed concern for attacks, the three agreed it was better to be safe than sorry, and thus took steps to anticipate a worst case scenario, just in case.

Emu returned to the Otori group's headquarters, both to visit her family, and to get more inside information about the state of the attacks. Her connections gave their team plenty of insight, and the intel helped the team strategize and plan ahead.

Nene, on the other hand, had mostly stayed on-site—she was going through the system archives on the main computer, compiling an intensive report of their team's activities, successes, and other issues. In a way, Rui wondered if there was something more she was trying to look for. Regardless, since the attack in Kyoto, the team hadn't sent any of their reports.

Curiously, Rui wondered if in part it was for the team's sake—Nene was intentionally taking the burden of writing Tsukasa's death in the report off both his and Emu's shoulders. Rui certainly was in no state of mind to report that with unbiased accuracy, and knowing Nene, he was certain it was nothing she would want to put Emu through, either.

Rui would have to thank her for that, later.

For his part, Rui spent a surprisingly ample amount of time off the Space Opera, something he fondly thought Tsukasa would have been pleased by. Compared to the other two, he wasn't particularly doing much, though he did make it a priority to fetch medical supplies, as well as other food and necessities they might need down the line.

Rui hadn't returned to the bio lab since T-517 malfunctioned. He had both fear and trepidation of returning, but he knew he would have to eventually. For now, he allowed himself the space to grieve properly—something, he supposed, he put off long enough.

In a surprising turn of events, he spent time at the Tenmas’, at the request of both Saki and Saki and Tsukasa's mother. While he stayed with them, he did everything he could to help out around the house. He did chores, ran errands, and even helped with cooking.

It was a little embarrassing when he got caught hiding the vegetables he'd chopped up in the back of the fridge, but he'd gotten somewhat lucky when Tsukasa's mother just gave him a somewhat fond scolding, saying something about how "Tsukasa didn't like to eat green peppers much, either."

It felt a bit strange, as if he was living a life not meant for him. A life he'd missed out on, maybe.

Saki explained it to him softly one day.

That night, they had insisted Rui stay in Tsukasa's room. It was with a hesitant reluctance that he'd agreed.

As he changed into a fresh set of pajamas after showering, Rui paused, staring at Tsukasa's made bed with a distant nostalgia.

He should pull the spare futon down.

After a moment's hesitation, Rui instead climbed into the bed, tucking himself under the covers. He slowly lowered his head to rest on the pillow, and the scent of citrus, fresh linen, and sunshine surrounded him. Rui rolled onto his side and pulled the pillow close to his chest, burying his face in the fabric and breathing in. Memories of a soft, sleeping Tsukasa beside him filled his mind.

There was so much Rui still wanted to do together. He couldn't let go.

As he fell asleep, comforted by the familiar scent of first love, Rui heard a familiar, warm voice.

Don't sleep too long, okay, Rui?

When Rui woke up the following morning, he felt the most well rested he'd been in months. Surprisingly, he woke up early—long before either Tenma. He made quick work of getting dressed, making the bed, and preparing coffee. He wouldn't overstay his welcome—there was still something he had to do, something important, that he'd been avoiding. As he took a sip of the coffee he'd prepared that was far too acidic, he was certain of it:

Today, he had to reactivate the android.

Rui finished his coffee and returned to the Space Opera.

Tsukasa, just like he always wanted, was revered as a hero—a savior of humanity. In the end, it was a dream Tsukasa himself never saw come to fruition.

When Rui entered the Space Opera for the first time in days, he was immediately tackled by Emu into a watery, clingy hug.

"You're back!" she cried. Rui frowned. He probably should have told them where he went. Oops. "We thought something happened to you, Rui-kun!"

Rui couldn’t help but laugh as he hugged her back briefly. "Don't worry, Emu-kun," he hummed, releasing her. "I had a lot on my mind, that's all. I'll continue with making sure the Space Opera is in ship-shape immediately."

"That's not…" Emu trailed off, before suddenly continuing. "No! You're being dummy-dummy, Rui-kun!" she insisted, to which Nene offered what could only be an exasperated smile.

"We were worried about you, you know that, right? Not the ship." Rui blinked at her. "Tsukasa would say the same thing, if he were here, too. We're in this together, right?"

Rui rubbed the back of his neck in response, casting his gaze to the side. It honestly slipped his mind—he didn't think he would be so missed.

"…well, regardless," Nene continued, "we're glad you're alright, but keep your communicator on the next time you leave the ship unexpectedly, okay? We thought something had happened, that's all."

Rui shifted from one foot to the other uncomfortably. Luckily, they didn't press it further.

Rui hesitated.

"…Are you okay?" Nene asked.

"Ah, yes. There's something I have to do today," he sighed. He realized that, perhaps, it was more fair to tell them, rather than keep them in the dark. "I'm going to wake up Pegasus-kun."

He didn't miss the way both Emu and Nene tensed up.

"What? Rui-kun, are you sure…?!" Emu cried, worried.

"Wouldn't it be okay to just…" Nene bit her lower lip. "Is it a good idea?"

"I apologize, it's in part out of selfish desire," he explained. "…Though, I don't feel it's fair to Pegasus-kun to leave him in purgatory—his body has been rehabilitated entirely, so…even if it isn't Tsukasa-kun, I believe he has the right to his own life. In the new world that Tsukasa-kun always wanted to see."

"…Oh."

"Hmm, that makes sense!" Emu chirped brightly, though he can see the worry still behind her eyes.

"…However, if he malfunctions again, like last time, then…"

Well, he'd cross that bridge when and if they got there.

Hesitantly, Emu and Nene agreed. They had asked to come in with Rui, but Rui had to decline—in the event it took a turn for the worse, Rui didn't want them to see just what measures he would follow through on.

They didn't need to know that, though, and they respected his wishes—they would wait outside the lab, but give Rui the initial privacy to wake Pegasus up.

After no more than ten minutes, the three were back at the doors of the bio lab.

"You're sure you'll be okay?" Nene asked, just after Rui hesitated to open the door. Swallowing thickly, he nodded.

"If I'm not, I'll call for you both."

"Got it!"
"Okay."

And then, he opened the door.

Rui stepped through the threshold, and the door whirred shut behind him. Light illuminated the lab, and immediately, Rui's eye fell on the android, laying still on the lab table, right where they'd left it.

Rui immediately was overcome with guilt, and took slow, steady steps for the table.

"…I'm sorry to have left you in this state for so long," he mumbled softly, pulling up a chair beside the table. Hollow, empty eyes stared back at him. "I'm also…sorry for leaving you alone, Pegasus-kun. Let me wake you up."

Gently, he reached out to hold the android's hand, then felt for a pulse—it was still warm, still beating steady beneath Rui's fingers.

It was truly so unfair of him to have left him like this for so long. Rui sighed.

I hope you won't resent me.

Reaching around the androids neck, he located the emergency mechanism, worked his fingers up T-517's spine, and…

Click.

Slowly, light filtered into Pegasus' eyes, pupils dilating and contracting for a moment, before he gave a couple cursory blinks.

"…Good morning, Pegasus-kun. Are you feeling alright?"

Pegasus looked at him wordlessly, then slowly sat up. He blinked a few more times, then looked around the bio lab, then returned his gaze to Rui.

"…Oh," he said, as if he were uncertain his voice would come out. "…yes, I think I'm…"

The android trailed off and lifted his hands, staring down at his palms. He opened and closed his fists a few times. Rui noted how the android shifts focus to its feet, wiggling its toes from beneath its shoes. Slowly, Pegasus swung his legs over the edge of the table, and stared at Rui almost expectantly.

Is he waiting for something…?

Rui couldn't tear his eyes from its electric gaze, some sort of gravitational pull keeping their eyes locked. Unsure of what else to do, Rui reached out and held his hand.

"…Hi, Rui." Pegasus spoke softly.

"…Hello, Pegasus-kun."

Pegasus looked to the side, down at his hand, which Rui still held, and laughed softly. Rui couldn't help but laugh nervously, too.

It was strange, it was familiar, and for a moment, Rui forgot that this wasn't Tsukasa.

Pegasus squeezed his hand. Rui squeezed back.

Selfishly, he wished it was Tsukasa.

He didn’t know what else to say, but somehow, he was okay—Pegasus was still alive and alright despite the malfunction. That was good.

"…I'm glad you're alright," Rui admitted quietly. "I don't know what I would do if something were to happen to you."

He meant it.

Pegasus frowned, not responding straight away. That was okay. Rui understood.

Then:

"I think I have a good idea of what you would do."

Rui blanched, snapping his head upwards to stare dumbly at Pegasus. Pegasus stared back—firm, strong, certain—and suddenly, Rui couldn't see anyone before him except for Tsukasa.

Emotion hit him all at once—all the grief, all the guilt, all the unspoken I'm sorrys he had in him—and Rui broke.

"…I'm—I'm so, so sorry, Tsukasa-kun," Rui spoke, broken and strained. His throat closed up, and he was barely able to get the words out. "Please, I'm so…so, sorry."

There was little use in begging for an apology he knew Pegasus was incapable of accepting. Looking back, the argument he'd had with Tsukasa months ago didn't even seem to matter, not when the end result was exactly what he'd been trying to prevent. How could it matter, at this point? There was no point, not when time was unforgiving—a hungry beast that always takes, takes, and takes—taking away the one person Rui loved most.

All that was left was a sorry imitation of a person Pegasus could never be.

Time offered no returns, not when it came to human life. Rui had realized that, now. In all his scientific endeavors, to modify and turn back time was something intangible and impossible, no matter how he tried to bargain with it.

Still, he couldn't move forward, stuck somewhere between past and present, with no certainty for the future he'd once dreamed of. He stood at times doorstep, desperate and futile, clinging to what memories he could salvage, anything to keep what was left of Tsukasa here.

The android tilted its head. It hesitated before responding.

"…I'm sorry, but I don't understand what for, R—professor. Have I done something wrong?"

Rui wanted to cry. In its malfunction, had the android remembered not to call him by name? But, just before, he…

"No. Never."

Right now, all Rui wanted was for Tsukasa to call his name. But Pegasus wasn't Tsukasa, and never could be.

Tsukasa was dead.

"There's no need for apologies like that then," Pegasus stated matter-of-factly. "There's nothing that I can forgive, so there's no need to despair or be sad."

Rui only realized he'd already been crying when Pegasus cupped his face with his free hand (still holding Rui's with the other), and he wiped away stray tears with the pad of his thumb. There was something tender about it—or perhaps, such tenderness was only from Rui's imagination, something he so desperately wanted. Regardless of how real it was, he latched on to the sentiment.

"Tsukasa-kun," Rui wept, unable to keep his tone even, "I'm not sad."

Something caught Rui off-guard, after that.

The boy in front of him offered a bright, familiar grin. The sight stopped Rui's breathing, and he stared.

"Then, smile." There was a pause, and Rui couldn't help but see Tsukasa. Golden eyes met amber, searching for any sign that much was true. "…I much prefer your smile, Rui."

Rui whimpered. With childish impudence, he shook his head. It wasn't possible.

"…No?"

Rui nodded.

"…Well, if that's the case, then…it's okay if you cry, too, okay? I'll allow it, even!" the boy continued, "…I'm here."

No, you're not.

"…Come back," Rui suddenly blubbered, pleading impossibly, thrown by how familiar it all felt. "You can still come home, I don't know why it didn't work—"

He wanted to escape, to get away from this invention of an impossible "happy ending" Pegasus insisted upon. The way his life had turned upside down was a nightmare. From the moment he met Tsukasa, Rui should have known.

Tsukasa never should have been a hero.

Rui couldn't love a hero.

…but Rui loved Tsukasa.

Rui could never love a hero, because heroes left nothing behind, when all was said and done.

Just like his parents.

Rui loved them, too.

"…I know," the boy responded, hesitating, choosing his words carefully. "I…I'm sorry."

He shouldn't be. There was no reason for Pegasus to apologize.

"I never wanted you to be a hero," Rui admitted, sniffling, "all heroes do is leave the people who love them most behind."

"…Rui, that's—"

"Don't call me that—" Rui sneered, desperate and pained, "you don't get to call me that."

The boy fell silent.

"I didn't want to lose you, the same way my parents—"

The boy blinked, then furrowed his brow at Rui.

"Your…parents?" he prompted, leaning in closer. "Rui—"

It caused Rui to recoil, pulling his hand away as if he'd been burned. He'd said far too much, and this imposter has the gall to think he could make it better. Rui turned away from him, holding himself closely, hunching over on himself.

"Just—forget it," he barely managed. "At least…at least the attacks are over. Let's just leave it at that."

When Rui left the lab, he missed the way amber eyes lingered on him.

The door whirred open and closed as he exited, and immediately, Emu and Nene stopped him.

"Rui-kun, what happened?! Is Tsuka—Pegasus-kun okay?!"

"Rui—"

He knew he didn't look right. His face was a mess with tears and snot and blotched with patchy redness that didn't suit him at all. Rui knew he was an ugly crier. He didn't like anyone else knowing that, but it was Emu and Nene, so it was okay.

"Pegasus-kun is fine," he choked out, "he's operational and normal."

He's not Tsukasa went unspoken, but was understood. Silence filled the air, and the three stood still.

"I thought I was prepared for it." Rui sniffled, then wiped his leaking nose with the back of his hand. "I don't think I could ever be prepared for it. It was stupid of me to think it'd be different this time."

"Rui…"

"There's still work to be done," he continued, detached. "I have a favor I need to ask of both of you."

It was somewhere around midnight when the Space Opera set course for the Kyoto Outpost.

Rui was unendingly grateful to Emu and Nene for agreeing to his final, selfish request. They didn't entirely understand it, he thought, but they still didn't question why he wanted to go back to Kyoto. The two walked with him back to his room. Well, more like dragged him there.

"You have to wake up early, so it's important you get proper sleep!" Emu insisted. "It's best that Rui-kun is feeling as best as he can tomorrow!"

Nene nodded along, and opened Rui's very unlived-in bedroom’s door. The two girls ushered him inside before finally releasing him.

"Sleep well, alright, Rui?" Nene added, smiling softly.

Maybe they did understand, after all.

Just a little bit after 1:00 AM, the ship docked in Kyoto. Only once they arrived was Rui able to fall asleep.

Tomorrow, he would make peace with it all. All the broken promises, all the missed moments, all the precious memories. In the end, those were all he had left.

Rui figured he would fall into a dreamless sleep; he didn't think he had much to dream about anymore, anyway. Even so, vivid images of sunny smiles and warm hands outstretched to him filled his mind. In his dreams, Tsukasa stood beside him, held his hand, and promised for an eternity side by side. Rui held onto that dream, and wished to whatever semblance of fate that could hear him that such a life was still possible.

Rui awakened when he unceremoniously fell off the side of his bed with a thud, a mess of pillows, sheets, and unkempt hair.

"Ow…" He grumbled, sitting up from the floor and rising to his feet. It was always easier to sleep on the floor, or at his desk, for this precise reason. Even so, he was awake, now, and had nowhere to move but forward, toward whatever the future had in store.

Regardless of whether he was ready for it or not.

Once Rui was dressed and prepared to face the day, he headed for the bio lab. Surely, that was where he would find Pegasus. He only hoped that, after everything, Pegasus would hear him out—one last time.

It was still early, and dark outside—dawn was just barely breaking upon the horizon. Perhaps it was too early, but to Rui, it was as good a time as any.

Just as he approached the entrance to the lab, the door whirred open, and he was met face to face with exactly who he was looking for.

"Pegasus-kun," he spoke gently. "Good morning."

In return, the boy stared back at him, wide eyed, as if he hadn't expected Rui to be on the other side of the door. Well, it didn't matter much, anyway, whatever the reason may be.

"Oh, Ru—professor, good morning."

There it was again. How strange.

It was almost human.

"I was wondering if you would accompany me for a walk."

"…Oh, a walk?" the boy asked softly. "Where do you have in mind…?"

Rui smiled, reaching out a hand for the boy to take.

"…The Kamo River. I've heard it's beautiful, and pictures don't do it justice—I'd like to see it for myself." He paused, and then requested, simply: "Come with me?"

The boy blinked, then furrowed his brow, then hid a barely contained smile. He looked away from Rui, and took his hand.

"…A reconnaissance mission?" he asked.

"…Maybe it isn't," Rui couldn't help but laugh. "Maybe I want to spend time with you. Just us."

Rui never thought he'd be able to see such an overjoyed expression on Tsukasa's face ever again.

So this is what he would have looked like if I went with him back then, Rui thought. There was no changing the past, but he was starting to look forward to the future—just a little bit.

Still, he was a little scared at how much and how quickly the AI had adapted Tsukasa’s personality—it was nearly indistinguishable, to Rui, now. So much so that it almost scared Rui, but selfishly, if it meant he could give Tsukasa a proper farewell, then it was just as well.

And so, scientist and android departed from the ship, making their way to one Kamo River. Rui wasn't sure what to expect, this time around—but whatever came from it, Rui would accept it.

They strolled down empty, old city streets, and Rui felt at peace. Idly, with the warmth of held hands between them, Rui wondered how the android must be feeling.

Not long after, they came upon the waters edge. The river was beautiful—just as Rui dreamed it. It was nothing like the pictures, he thought—seeing it in person was far more special. With the bright boy by his side, he couldn't help but wish he could have seen it with Tsukasa, if only once.

For now, this would have to do. It would be enough.

Pegasus was quiet beside him. Their hands squeezed together, initiated by the other, and Rui felt his breath catch.

At this point, Pegasus served an unintended purpose—a symbol of humanity's new beginning. At least, that’s how Rui viewed him. Maybe that, too, was enough.

Rui was feeling sentimental.

Tsukasa, in the end, would get his wish, even in his realized, actual death—to be remembered, to be a hero, to be loved. Pegasus would henceforth serve as that sort of reminder; he would live on to be Tsukasa's living tombstone.

Rui still couldn’t quite tell if he'd made peace with it. Still, he thought…it was only fair to pay respects to Tsukasa, to the place Tsukasa wanted them to go together—to his final place of rest.

He wouldn't be surprised if Pegasus didn't understand. In fact, Rui would accept that, too. But no matter what response waited for him, Rui would accept the outcome; he would say everything as he should have, long before today. For every missed opportunity, for every lingering touch, for every mistake that brought them here—Rui would make peace with all of it.

"We're almost there," Rui spoke softly. Pegasus remained quiet beside him, but Rui didn't mind all too much. He only hoped that Pegasus enjoyed the experience and the sight, hoping that something meaningful could live on for him for this moment.

The two walked in silence along the waters edge, and eventually, Rui saw it. He held the hand of Pegasus tightly, an unspoken sentiment of I'm here, with you, and together, they came upon the destroyed bridge.

Somehow, Rui remembered the area all too well, even through his painful memories—it was nearly exactly the same as he'd last seen it, perhaps without as much blood, and greenery had started to grow over the rubble.

It was time.

"This is it." Rui turned to face Pegasus, morning rays of sun filtering through his hair, casting gentle shadows on his face. There was a warm wind and a sweet, nostalgic scent in the air—like fresh linen, citrus, and sunshine.

Pegasus stared down at the rubble briefly, then looked to the river, gaze lingering on the way morning sun cast against the current, and then slowly, finally, he looked at Rui.

"I hope you'll forgive me, Pegasus-kun. There's something I'd…like to say. Even if you can't understand it. Will you hear me out?"

There's a lingering look of understanding, and slowly, he's met with a nod.

It's okay if Pegasus doesn't know what to say. Rui let out a shaky sigh—when he didn't even know where to begin, or what to say himself, he couldn't blame the other for being in the same boat. What's more, he'd already broken down to Pegasus before, and as things were, Rui was certain the android could infer enough about his own existence.

"…I'm glad I could stand here with you. Even if only once." He paused. "Even if you don't remember, even if you're not…" Rui shook his head. "…Well, at least the attacks are over. It's what you always wanted, right? What we always wanted. To defend humanity, together."

Nothing was said, and Rui hesitated before adding, "I hope you can live on and enjoy a proper life in the new world."

Pegasus stared at him with a distant look in his eyes, perhaps as if he didn't know what to say. It was fair—Rui wasn't sure how he would respond to all of this if he were in the same position. Still, even if it was Pegasus, even if it's not Tsukasa, Rui had to speak honestly, just to know he did. Even if it was too little too late.

"I'm sorry for not coming here with you when it mattered most," Rui continued, rubbing his arm sheepishly. "I think you'd find me ridiculous, but…admittedly, I was scared. Of…things changing between us, when I liked them so much the way they were." Rui let out a soft chuckle. "I wonder if it would have been any different, if I had gone with you back then. I always think it would have. I wish that I went with you."

Pegasus frowned, casting his gaze off to the side. Even still, he held fast onto Rui's hand. That was enough for Rui, for now, for what this was. With a deep breath, Rui had nothing more to lose—there was no use in delaying it further.

"I love you," he nearly whispered, continuing, "I've always loved you, more than anything. I'm sorry for never telling you."

A warm gust of wind kicked up fallen leaves between them, and Rui reached up to brush his bangs out of his face. Through morning sunbeams and confessions left unsaid for far too long, Rui felt a little lighter.

It was enough. The day was new.

He could move on.

"…With this, I say goodbye to who I've always wanted you to be." Rui smiled, but tears fell from his eyes. "Tsukasa-kun…is dead. I never wanted to accept it. I'm sorry for putting that on you, Pegasus-kun."

Goodbye was something he'd never wanted to say. It was never something he'd wanted to admit out loud, not to anyone, not to Pegasus, not to himself. Rui knew it was unfair to put this on the other, at the end of everything—it was his own selfishness, his own stubborn error, that brought them to this point.

Rui had no choice but to accept responsibility for it all. He let go of Tsukasa's hand.

Rui brought his hand back to his own face, to wipe his tears—a little embarrassed, even now, even when it wasn't Tsukasa before him, even if Tsukasa himself would never see such a sorry display.

A hand reached out, taking hold of his. Not long after, a second came to hold the back of that same hand.

Rui looked up at the bright boy before him, backlit by the light of dawn rising. Rui stared at the sight—like this, it really looked like Tsukasa was here.

Like Tsukasa was the one hearing him.

Like Tsukasa was the one smiling at him.

Like Tsukasa was the one holding Rui's hand within his own, turning it over, placing Rui's touch over the pulse in his own wrist.

It thrummed steady under Rui's fingers, warm, confident, and certain.

"…Don't say goodbye," Tsukasa requested softly.

The world came to a halt.

What…?

For everything Rui prepared for, for this moment, for this final goodbye and to finally make peace with losing Tsukasa—even that was torn away from him.

Rui could only bark out a shocked laugh, in complete disbelief.

"You're so unfair," he laughed, hunching his shoulders, shifting his hand to face palm-to-palm with Tsukasa's. Their fingers weaved together, once more, and Rui held on.

Until the very end, he had no choice but to hold on. He would never let go again.

Even if it was all a lie; even if it wasn't true; even if this couldn't be real.

This couldn't be real.

"You're one to talk," Tsukasa laughed, familiar and full, and his hand squeezed Rui's in return. "What's up with that, Rui?"

Rui thought he might be happy, or maybe he was grieving all the same—he couldn't tell how he felt; he couldn't tell if he should laugh or if he should cry.

Whatever the case, whatever the outcome, he did cry; he couldn't bring himself to do anything else but weep. Rui was simply exhausted with everything.

Either Pegasus was playing a really, really cruel joke on him, or, after everything…

Tsukasa was here.

No, that wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible.

It was funny, in a way. No matter which way fate swayed, Rui couldn't accept it. How could he accept it?

It was unfair, to go through all the grief, all the suffering of loss, only for even that to be torn from him when he'd finally made peace with letting go. Rui had been prepared to say goodbye, Rui had been okay with it, so why now? What had changed, how was it possible?

Despite everything, Rui wanted to believe in the possibility. He wanted to believe that fate had mercy and smiled down upon him, truly bringing Tsukasa back to him.

"This—this is cruel," Rui laughed, still in absolute disbelief. "Please, don't do this."

Tsukasa was back. It couldn't and shouldn't be possible, but it had to be true—it was obvious in the way Tsukasa tenderly called his name, for what Rui hoped was the first of many, many more times:

"…Rui," Tsukasa insisted.

Imploring, certain, full of mirth and life and love—defying the impossible, going beyond Rui's every expectation beyond 100%, to something ridiculous like 12,000%. It shouldn't be possible, but it was, because it was him, because it was Tsukasa, because they were together.

In the end, they were able to go to the river together, after all.

"I came to get you," Rui choked out, squeezing Tsukasa's hand anew.

When Rui looked up at Tsukasa's face, amber eyes softened with such a familiar fondness, that Rui was certain that it had to be true:

Tsukasa was home.

"I'm sorry it took so long," Tsukasa laughed softly, sniffling as tears threatened to spill over. "I was trying to tell you, before, but—"

The reason didn't matter, Rui decided. If Tsukasa was here, if Tsukasa was back, then it was enough. He'd be happy to hear the reason later, but right now, in this moment—

"You never cease to amaze me, Tsukasa-kun." Rui laughed, before breaking down into tears. "It…certainly, took you long enough," Rui finally managed through sobs. He wiped his eyes with his free hand, and offered the brightest smile he could manage. "Welcome home, Tsukasa-kun."

Tsukasa laughed, the sound familiar and ringing light in Rui's ears. He never thought he'd get the chance to hear it ever again—he was happy to be proven wrong, in the end. Rui couldn't help but laugh with him, and suddenly, Tsukasa stepped up to him all too closely, bringing his free hand to rest over Rui's, cupping his face.

Rui was about to ask just what he was doing, but Tsukasa just offered a sheepish smile, before leaning in.

Tsukasa kissed him, tender, sweet, full of promise and overflowing with hope—for their present, for their future.

It was the sort of kiss one could expect from a hero—a real, true hero.

Rui's hero.

As soon as the kiss began, Tsukasa pulled away. It was short, simple, and sweet. Rui didn't have to worry about him going anywhere—he rested his forehead against Tsukasa's. Between them, Tsukasa softly laughed.

"I'm home, and… I love you too, by the way, in case you're questioning such a thing! I hope you're not," Tsukasa huffed, before smiling anew. "…Sorry for making you wait."