Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

you gotta gather up what you need (you gotta choose a direction)

i.

Haru felt it like an itch. A weird thrum underneath his skin.

He’d been ignoring it for years, but it was drumming a steadily louder beat on his left wrist, pulling him in closer like waves to the shore…

It was annoying.

And he only ever felt it around Makoto.

ii.

“Haru-chan! Have you done your career path questionnaire thingy yet?”

“…”

“Haru-chan, I don’t understand your weird pauses!”

“…”

Nagisa watches him and pouts, bottom lip jutting out indignantly. Rei quickly consoles the bright blond, and in no time Nagisa’s attention is back on his lunch, attacking the bento with fervour.

Haru suddenly feels a new pair of eyes on him. Green ones.

His left wrist pulses again and he resists the urge to reach for it and scratch away the tingly warmth. Erase the word whose meaning only he can understand.

Bury the secret only he can keep.

A beat passes before Makoto turns away, Nagisa’s voice loudly calling for his attention.

Haru digs into his mackerel, not really tasting it.

iii.

“Hey, Haru-chan, come and join the swim club with me!”

“Cut off the –chan. And I don’t want to.”

“Eh? How come?”

The breeze was sweet atop the slide. Haru felt taller than the other kids on the playground, as if he could reach highter. He didn’t look down to where Makoto was.

“Too much trouble.”

Sweeping his feet in front of him, Haru slid.

And in that breath between stillness and falling, he was free.

iv.

Free.

It had been the only thing he wrote on the questionnaire. The meaning behind it, one can decipher for themselves.

… Makoto probably saw it.

Haru resists the urge to sigh, not wanting to break the peaceful silence in his bathroom.

Makoto had always been the type to worry about his future. His education. His career.

He would want a good paying job, one that would buy him a nice house (maybe one with a white picket fence like in those Western films) and help him provide for his family-

Bringing his legs up, Haru watches as the water inside the tub ripples. He plops his chin down on his knees.

The thrum underneath his skin had settled down. Somehow it always did in the water.

. . .But that still remained. Stamped like a brand onto his skin, a single word that glowed ethereally underneath the warm bathwater.

A name.

Haru was Destined for someone he could never have.

Chapter Text

since the day we shared, the same air

i.

Blood rushing through veins. A dull throb.

“-Hey, Ai-senpai!”

Heart beating. Pounding-

“Hellooooo, earth-to-senpai!”

Growing. A crescendo-

“BOO!”

“GAAH!”

“Ahahaha!” Momo falls to the floor, his laughter ringing through the room.

Nitori eyes the boy warily from his desk. “What was that for?”

“You weren’t listening, senpai!”

The laughter’s ceased. Momo’s expression suddenly grows serious. “Hey, senpai, are you okay?

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You looked like you were having another migraine. Your back was turned but I could see you rubbing your temples…”

Nitori watches his kohai, Momo’s brow tight with worry. He feints a smile. “I’m fine.”

“You sure? I mean, you’ve been acting kinda weird lately-“

“Momo,” Nitori sighs, weary. “I’m fine. Promise. I- I just haven’t been getting much sleep lately. School’s been really stressful.”

“You mean it? 'Cause if you’re not feeling well you should really tell Matsuoka-senpai-“

“No.” Nitori winces. He hadn’t meant to cut Momo off twice.

“You don’t need to tell Rin-senpai anything. I’ll be fine.”

ii.

Knock, knock, knock!

Nitori left his last class as soon as he could, nearly tripping out the door.

He wants to catch up with Rin, before the older boy went off to do something else. He hasn’t seen his senpai at all today.

He hadn’t seen him much the day before either.

Nitori waits a minute. Then two.

Five minutes pass before Nitori sighs, long and drawn out, head dropping against the wooden door.

“-Hey, Nitori-kun! You lookin’ for Matsuoka-senpai?”

Nitori jumps, banging his head hard against the door before whirling around to meet his classmate’s friendly face.

“H-Hai, Akio-kun. Have you seen him?”

“Yeah, he’s working out with Yamazaki-senpai in the gym.” Nitori’s smile falters.

“Ah. Thanks, Akio-kun. I’ll see you around!”

Nitori walks away before he hears a reply. He walks fast. Steps rushed, breath strained.

His head starts hurting.

Closed-off walls…no light…

iii.

It’s nearly bedtime when Nitori realizes something.

“Momo-kun, were you trying to tell me something earlier?”

“Oh!” Momo turns away from his phone and scrambles to the edge of his bed. He peers down at his senpai. “It was on the news. Two Destined Ones were found out, uh, somewhere in the Middle East. I think.”

Nitori blinks, attention no longer on his textbook.

They've only really known each other a few months, yet Momo's grown aware about his fascination with…them.

“What happened?”

Momo frowns, though from where Nitori sat, upright, it looked like he was smiling.

“There was a really bad fight. . .they were both killed. The guy was already married, but they tried to run away.”

Smoke and incense…the relentless beat of drums-

Nitori coughs. He nods, bottom lip between his teeth and looks down. He doesn’t see the words sprawled across the pages of his text.

Blue eyes fall on his upturned wrist. On the blank space there.

“I see.”

Chapter Text

if you’re lost, I’m diving in after you

i.

Grandma Nanase had been an…eccentric individual.

(Haru guessed that ran in the family.)

“-When you're ten, they call you a prodigy. When you're fifteen, they call you a genius. Once you hit twenty, you're just an ordinary person…”

Those had been her words.

And three years away from turning twenty, Haru knew that he was far from ordinary.

ii.

Grandma Nanase had been the one to tell him about the Destined Ones.

When she was still alive, she used to watch him with sharp, knowing eyes-- a stark contrast to her pale skin and crow’s feet.

She’d tell him that the Destined Ones were the stuff of legends. That written on their left wrist was their beloved’s True Name.

“That is where their power lies,” she said.

“Deep down everyone has a True Name. Destined Ones simply watch over two.”

In her youth, Haru’s grandmother met a person who encountered such beings. She later learned things that very few people at that time knew.

Over the years, she would impart that knowledge to him.

Haru hadn’t known back then, but those had been her favorite bedtime stories to tell. She would sit there, calmly observing him with eyes the same shade as his. She would sit there and he would listen, enraptured.

“Most people aren’t meant to realize their True Names. Destined Ones however, are different. They carry a heavy burden. They must often journey far to find their other half, and till then can only trust themselves with protecting their True Names.”

“Why should they protect their True Names, obaa-san?”

“Because there are individuals who wish to uncover their secrets for their own selfish gain. And if that were to happen, well…you would cease to be you.”

Haru peered down at the softly glowing word on his left wrist. He fought the urge to cover it up.

His grandmother still noticed. She smiled sadly, placing one wrinkly hand on his head to ruffle black locks.

“Do remember what I’ve told you, little Haruka. For your journey’s just begun.”

iii.

Placing one final dish on the rack to dry, Haru shuts the tap.

He stands at the sink a moment longer, idly watching as the last few drops of water leave the nozzle with a drip. The sound echoes through the kitchen.

It’s during moments like these that Haru realizes how alone he is.

He hates feeling this way.

This ache. This restlessness. Like a part of him knows that he doesn't have to feel this empty, yet he stubbornly remains here. Stranded.

…But who can you trust?

Outside in the dining room, his phone chimes.

Haru walks slowly over to check. It’s Makoto.

hey Haru! do u wanna come over? it’s been a while and the twins really miss you..

I-

Thumbs poised over the keypad, Haru pauses. His left wrist feels warm; a phantom touch.

Haru types.

I can’t right now. Sorry.

Chapter Text

as the spell of death takes his breath

 i.

It was the weekend. Messenger bag slung across his shoulder, Nitori turns to his roommate.

“I’ll see you tonight, Momo-kun!”

“Wait, what?!”

Flinging his math homework aside, Momo hurries down from his perch on the top bunk. He looks at his senpai, confusion clearly evident on his face.

“Where are you going?”

Nitori gives him a pointed look.

It takes a second to sink in.

“Ohhh.” Scratching the back of his neck, Momo gives a hesitant nod. His expression looks strangely pained.

“You’re going to those weird church meetings again, right?”

“Yeah…”

Momo shrugs, hands going to his pockets. He offers Nitori a wry smile.

“Well, have fun not playing Smash Bros. with me and the senpais.”

Rolling his eyes, Nitori feels his own smile forming. He adjusts the strap on his bag before heading to the door.

“I’m sure I won’t be missed.”

ii.

It was called “The Church of Enlightenment”.

A couple months ago, Nitori’s family had been invited to attend a sermon by one of his mother’s co-workers. They’d gone, found it oddly eye-opening, and the next time they showed up Nitori had been in tow.

The church itself was tiny, located on the very outskirts of Iwatobi. It was led by a man named James McCall. The congregation addressed him as Reverend James. 

From what his mother told him, Reverend James was American; lived there all his life until the day he decided that the hustle-and-bustle of city life had become too much. He upped and left, booking a flight for Japan the very next day.

Now, he preached every weekend to a tightly-packed crowd of people hailing from every city in the country.

Nitori had balked at that. Naturally, he’d been very skeptical over what exactly Reverend James talked about.

His first sermon changed that.

*** 

“Have any of y’all heard of the Destined Ones?”

(Nitori winced from his seat. The Reverend’s accent could use some work.)

A few people in the crowd nodded.

“For those that aren’t aware, Destined Ones are quite similar to soulmates: two individuals fated to be together. They’re two peas in a pod. Two halves of a whole. However-” The Reverend paused, eyeing the crowd calmly. “They’re also exceptionally powerful beings.”

“On the day of their birth, a Destined One will have their partner’s name marked on their left wrist. Most Destined Ones, like many of you who believe in soulmates, may never be reunited with their other half. But! For the ones that do, what makes them so mighty?”

The Reverend leaned forward on his pew, fingers interlaced and expression dead serious. Nitori couldn’t believe what the man was getting at. He scanned the room, hoping to find a friendly face.

No one so much as batted an eyelash.

“It all lies in the name, my friends. The name placed on a Destined One’s wrist is no ordinary name. It ain’t the name your Ma and Pa gave you, no. It’s a name all we humans have. We just gotta dig deep and bring it out to the light.”

Reverand James smiled.

“It’s our True Name.”

 iii.

The room plunges into darkness.

Standing at their pews, the congregation remains where they are.

Nitori instantly smells the sharp smoke from newly lit incense. Soon the sound of drums will accompany the scent.

Up until a few weeks ago, Nitori would have never believed Reverend James’ words. His talk of Destined Ones and True Names-

“Our True Names are our souls. They encompass everything about ourselves; who we were, who were are, and who we’ll become.”

Back then he had tried to find an exit-- a way to escape the ritual. But the darkness in the church was absolute.

The drums begin to play. The air already so thick with smoke Nitori can taste it. Bitter.

“To attain it is to reach our highest self, my friends. We become free. We become invincible-“

Fingernails dig deep into his palm.

“-We Transcend.”

Nitori’s nostrils burn. He coughs, stomach clenching as he’s hit with a wave of nausea.

The choir begins singing, their ghostly voices a pointed contrast to the pounding drums. Nitori can’t understand their words. He doesn’t need to. 

“Destiny ain’t got nothing to do with it, folks. We can all reach this pinnacle of our existence; we just gotta put a little effort into it-”

It hadn’t worked on anyone else. No one was affected but him.

“-Don’t worry. I’ll show you the way.” 

It was too much. The smell of burning earth and the racing beat of drums were swallowing him up. No one could reach him in this darkness. No one could save him.

As the choir hits a tremulous crescendo, Nitori lets the blackness take him.

Chapter Text

it sings to me the ballad of your name

i.

(Nitori swims to forget.)

“Oh my God, where the hell have you been?!?!”

Nitori closes the door behind him. Momo is right up in his face, fuming.

Nitori shakes his head. His head still feels fuzzy, a weird buzzing in his ear.

“I’m sorry.”

Momo deflates.

“Sorry?” The other boy sighs, running a hand through unruly red hair.

(Hand thrusting forward, he cuts through the water like a knife.

Cutting through the fog in his mind.)

“Senpai, you were only supposed to be gone a couple hours; you didn’t text, it’s late, you’ve been acting extra weird lately—what was I supposed to think?” Another sigh.

“I was worried, ‘kay? Rin and Sousuke-senpai too…”

“I…”

Nitori doesn’t know what to say.

Something’s changed. He’s a sheet of ice with spider cracks on its surface, slowly buckling under some unknown pressure.

He is smoke, slowly dissipating.

He is air. Intangible.

He is…

“-Sorry. Momo-kun, I’m so sorry.”

ii.

(Nitori swims to remember.)

He wakes up on the floor of the church.

His mother’s face is hovering over him, the rest of his family and the congregation around them in a tight circle.

Reverend James is there as well, the expression on his face unreadable.

(Dive in. Surface. Breathe.)

What happens next, Nitori is only faintly aware of.

His skull feels like it’s been filled with cotton, perception dampened. He watches, oddly detached as his body is led away from the church and into his parents’ car. They drive to the hospital.

Suddenly Nitori is sitting on an examination bench, blue eyes blank as his mind traces patterns on the off-white wall. A beat later and the doctor comes in and checks him over.

No concussion. No trauma.

Back in the car, his parents ask him if he wants to stay at home for the remainder of the weekend or drive back to Samezuka.

Nitori feels his mouth form words. He gives them his answer.

It’s only when he’s standing at the gates of the academy, does Nitori realize how little he recalls of the drive there.

iii.

“Momo’s pissed y’know.”

Nitori looks up from the pool’s edge. It’s Rin.

“Ah, senpai…”

Rin walks toward him, bending down and offering his hand. Nitori takes it before color can stain his cheeks.

It’s instantaneous. Like always, the warmth of his senpai’s touch calms an unnamed ache in his chest. The haze in his mind dissipates.

This. Nitori thinks. It’s been too long.

Rin lets go first, the action met with silence.

Nitori looks down and stares at his feet, bottom lip caught between his teeth. Neither say a word.

Something's changed. He can no longer meet his senpai’s eyes.

“Ai, are you okay?”

Am I?

Nitori can feel Rin’s gaze on him, searching. He is too.

“I’m not sure.”

His skin itches; chlorine clings to it like an unwanted touch.

A minute passes before he hears Rin breathe out a sigh, then-

Warm, warm hands fall on his head, gently ruffling tangled locks. Nitori’s eyes widen and he looks up.

Confusion, concern, anger, regret-

Does he know?

-long fingers pick out the knots in his hair-

Does he know what I don’t?

“See you at practice tomorrow.”

Cold replaces the warmth. Nitori watches Rin’s back as he turns and walks away.

Nitori is alone once more. The fog in his mind creeps back…

-a  fleeting shadow passes like a wraith from behind him-

Nitori shivers.

iv.

It’s late when Nitori gets back to the dorms.

Momo is soundly asleep on the top-bunk. Nitori smiles, relieved.

His head had started hurting after his meeting with Rin, and now…now he just wants sleep.

Eyes drooping, Nitori quickly changes into his night clothes and slips under the sheets. Barely a minute passes before his mind empties and sleep claims him.

That night the dreams began.

Chapter Text

waiting like a ghost, when i need you the most

i.

It’d been a week since Haru last talked to Makoto.

During school and swim practice they had barely spoken a word, barely acknowledged the other’s presence. Makoto had recently begun helping Goro-san at the swim club. He coached little kids.

Haru’s heart ached.

He’d secluded himself in his home, ignoring the pain and how the softly glowing name on his wrist called to him. Begged him…

He had been there, mindlessly flipping through channels on his T.V when it happened.

It’d been on a local news station. The reporter had been sitting calmly at her desk, reciting a message that made Haru’s eyes widen.

“In today’s developing story, more information has been gathered on the massive fire fight that occurred at Abu Dhabi International Airport, killing eleven. The couple behind the massacre, Adiv Muhammad and Farah Nejem, had been trying to flee the country. Muhammad was married, but the two were reportedly ‘Destined Ones’-”

The screen flickered black a moment before loud ringing reached Haru’s ears. Multicolored bars replaced what had been the news report.

Haru blinked once. Twice.

He stood.

Grandma Nanase warned him that it would be like this, and he couldn’t…He needed help. He needed answers.

Haru had a decision to make.

ii.

Rei had been the last person to leave the classroom after the lunch bell rang. Cornering him hadn’t been difficult.

“Ah! You startled me, Haruka-senpai. Is there anything I-”

“You mentioned your dad worked in the government. Is that true?”

“Uh…yes?”

“And in what part of the government does he work at?”

Rei was clearly confused. “Haruka-senpai, what is this for?”

“Please, Rei. I need to know.”

The other boy stared a moment longer before sighing, resigned. He adjusted his glasses.

“He works for Foreign Affairs. The Intelligence division, I believe.”

Haru nodded. “And how’s the hacking going?”

Rei nearly keeled over. He sputtered indignantly, quickly shutting the door and hauling Haru deeper into the classroom.

“Haruka-senpai, how? W-When? Where-”

“Rei.”

The other boy stopped.

Rei looked at his friend, really looked.

Haru was paler than usual, eyes rimmed with dark shadows. Exhaustion was written in the tense lines of his jaw, the slump of his shoulders. He looked lost.

His friend was a mess.

“I need your help. I…I can’t do this alone.”

Haru didn’t notice Rei as stepped closer and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. The warmth grounded him.

Rei smiled.

“Okay.”

iii.

[CLASSIFIED]  

 

PROPERTY OF THE JAPANESE MINISTRY OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS

INTELLIGENCE AND ANALYSIS SERVICE (IAS)

 

IN ALLIANCE WITH THE CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE AGENCY (CIA)

CANADIAN SECURITY INTELLIGENCE SERVICE (CSIS)

SECRET INTELLIGENCE SERVICE (M16)

DIRECTION DE LA PROTECTION ET DE LA SÉCURITÉ DE LA DÉFENCE (DPSD)

BUNDESNACHRICHTENDIENST  (BND)

AGENZIA INFORMAZIONI E SICUREZZA ESTERNA (AISE)

Гла ́ вное разве ́ дывательное управле ́ ние (GRU)

 

PROJECT SYMPOSIUM

“Project Symposium?”

“The Symposium was an Ancient Greek text done by the philosopher Plato. It deals with various theories of love, including the idea of soulmates…”

Haru doesn’t reply.

DATE:

     x/x/2015

COUNTRY OF ORIGIN:

     United Arab Emirates

SUBJECTS:

     Adiv Muhammad and Farah Nejem

STATUS:

     Terminated.

 

DATE:

     x/x/2010

COUNTRY OF ORIGIN:

     France

SUBJECTS:

     Adriene Beaumont and Henry Chandler

STATUS:

     Missing.

 

DATE:

     x/x/1998

COUNTRY OF ORIGIN:

     Russia

SUBJECTS:

     Marina Pavlovich and Natalya Dmitriev

STATUS:

     Terminated. 

 

DATE:

     x/x/1970                                                                                                                   

COUNTRY OF ORIGIN:

     Brazil

SUBJECTS:

     Carlos Silva and Maria Eduarda Santiago

STATUS:

     Terminated.

 

DATE:

     x/x/1939                                                                                                                                

COUNTRY OF ORIGIN:

     Germany

SUBJECTS:

     Hans Müller and Jÿrgen Schröder                                                                                     

STATUS:

      Terminated.

“My god…”

Rei shakes his head, eyes never straying from the file in front of him. Both he and Haru are in his bedroom, his personal computer their only source of illumination.  

Behind him, Haru is a silent, rigid statue, gaze intense and breathing uneven.

Rei continues scrolling through the file, stopping abruptly at what he sees next.

“There…there’s a separate list for ‘Suspected Symposium’, ones who have yet to find their ‘intended pair’—though it seems the information they’ve gathered are rough estimations at best. There is no criterion for which to work with. It’s hard for these government intelligence agencies to tell if these people are legitimate because-”

“-Destined Ones are rare,” Haru cut in. He remembered his grandmother’s words. “Only two souls in every one hundred million. It’s hard enough for a Destined One to find their own partner, let alone these government agencies. Chances are one will never reunite with their partner…You can be anyone, be anywhere, and-”

“You managed to find him though. Didn’t you, Haruka-senpai?”

Rei turns away from the screen. He watches Haru, expression both concerned and curious.

“You found Makoto-senpai?”

Haru doesn’t answer. He stares resolutely at the wall behind Rei, hands shaking slightly. He itches to cover up the name on his wrist; as if the other boy can see it.

Rei sighs.

“Haruka-senpai, why didn’t you tell him?”

Haru can’t answer. His throat is dry, mouth parched.

“He deserves better.”

Rei shakes his head. He stands. “Haruka-”

“I have to protect him, Rei!”

The other boy starts.

For a moment, Haru is livid. His blue eyes glow bright in the dim bedroom, the air around him growing heavy with the smell of rain.

Rei’s skin prickles and he takes an unsteady back. His friend, at this moment, is a force of nature—unpredictable.

Suddenly, Haru’s shoulders drop, energy drained. The shadows in the room drift back. He’s shaking.

Haru’s next words are muddled, choked with foreign emotions.

“I—we never asked for this. Whatever our purpose is, achieving it could cost us our lives. I refuse to end up like that-“ He points at the screen. “And Makoto...he deserves to be happy.”

“Haruka-senpai…”

“I asked for your help because I needed to decide what to do next. With me here, Makoto’s not safe. I have to leave Iwatobi. I have to-”

“No!”

It’s Haru’s turn to jump. Rei’s back leaves the wall as he hurls himself toward his friend, taking both of Haru’s arms in a firm grip. His gaze is fierce.

“You are not leaving! You deserve happiness just as much as Makoto-senpai, and if you are suffering, you will not do it alone!”

Haru is speechless. Face close enough to his, he can detect the faint smell of toothpaste with Rei’s every panting breath.

“Haruka-senpai, why do you know that Makoto-senpai is your Destined One?”

Haru blinks. “The name-”

“No,” Rei says. “From what you have told me the name on your left wrist is your partner’s True Name. It does not spell 'Makoto Tachibana', therefore it can belong to any other person.”

The grip on his biceps tighten, Rei’s face pleading.

“Haruka-senpai, I ask you again, what makes you so certain that Makoto-senpai is your Destined One?”

It hits him then. Haru is tired, weary, and like a broken dam the words kept deep within him spill forth fast and without pause.

“No matter where I am, no matter what I do, I’m always drawn back to him. My heart and mind and soul ache when I’m near him, yet it hurts more when I’m not. Makoto’s Name is a mark, a brand; I see it when I close my eyes, when I dream—it calls for me…

He’s a vast, endless ocean that I would never hope to cross because I’d rather it take me and never let go.”

Haru’s crying now and he's barely noticed. Blinking away the wetness in his eyes he realizes there are tears in Rei’s as well. He’s touched.

Despite everything, Haru is grateful for his friends.  

Rei releases him to wipe his eyes with his sleeves, apologizing for the sorry sight. Haru follows him.

“You should tell him that.”

Haru stares. “What?”

“You should tell Makoto-senpai what you just told me. He needs to hear it—He needs you. I’m sure of this now. You’re not the only one who’s hurting, Haruka-senpai.”

Rei offers him a small, hopeful smile. “And no matter what happens, Nagisa and I will be here for you both.”

Ever since Haru was a child, he had never thought- never dreamed that this would be his life. That the words placed on his wrist meant that he was Destined for something more; that his soulmate would be the sweet boy who first talked to him at a playground; that he would have such courageous, loyal friends. Swimming had been his only constant.

It seems that has changed.

“Okay.”

Haru isn’t a broken dam, splintered and finite; he is a mighty, flowing river…and he longs for his sea.

Chapter Text

sleeping just to numb the pain (restless till the day we die)

i.

“Kid’s improved.”

Far from the pool’s edge, Rin stands supervising his team, Sousuke and Mikoshiba Seijuurou at his side.

Their former captain had dropped by unannounced at the start of practice. He’d been all-smiles as he greeted his little brother, later slapping Rin on the back like a proud father.

“Yeah, he has.”

Seijuurou nods. “You’ve been helping him?”

Rin glances to his right and smirks. “No, but Sousuke has.”

“Nitori wants to be part of the relay.” Sousuke says with a shrug. “He wouldn’t have gotten better on his own.”

“But Ai works hard.” Rin adds. “As long as he doesn’t lose focus, he should be fine.”

The conversation drifts as the trio turn their attention back on the swim team. Nitori is racing one of his classmates and leading, the boy looking swifter and surer in the water than he’s ever been. Momo and the other boys cheer them on as they finish their final lap…

Nitori wins.

Seijuurou grins. “So you got any idea who you’re electing as Captain when you leave?”

Rin scoffs, amused. “Right now my only priority’s getting us to nationals.”

“Good plan.”

Eyes scanning past the lively group, Seijuurou points at a tall figure by the pool’s edge. “Who’s that guy? I didn’t notice him last time I stopped by.”

“Jirou Hughes. Foreign-exchange student from the U.S.” Rin supplies. “His specialty’s the breaststroke, and he’s good. Powerful and fast. But he’s also a hot-head and a fucking jerk.”

The statement is proven the moment Nitori hops out of the pool. His foot slips on the slick floor and he sways forward, side knocking against Jirou’s. The taller boy pushes him back, nearly sending him into the water once more.  Nitori drops to the ground with a surprised cry.

“Watch where you’re going, fag. Wouldn’t wanna bruise that sweet little body of yours before I get to it.”

“Hey!” Momo races to the pair, shoving the taller boy angrily. “Don’t talk about Nitori-senpai like that!”

Rin sees this happening. He marches towards the boys before a fight could break out, Sousuke and Seijuurou on his tail. “Oi!” he shouts, “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Hughes?”

Jirou raises his arms, placating. Beside him, Nitori stands with Sousuke’s help; small tremors wrack the boy’s form.

“Sorry ‘bout that, Rin. I just wanted to see Nitori-kun squirm.”

Momo bristles, disgusted by Jirou’s blatant disrespect of their captain and the lewd words targeted at his senpai.  Sousuke drops a hand on his shoulder, stopping him before he went up and throttled the other man himself.

“Leave.”

The swim team suddenly quiets down, all eyes anxiously watching their captain. Seijuurou keeps an eye on Rin as he settles before Jirou, arms crossed. Rin’s next words are spoken calmly, though the warning in his searing gaze is clear.

“I’ve had enough of your bullshit, Hughes. You’re suspended for the rest of the season and banned from returning to the pool.”

Slowly, Rin moves until he’s chest-to-chest with Jirou. There’s a height difference. Rin thinks nothing of it.  His gaze narrows, eyes glowing blood-red beneath the bright lights.

“Bother Ai again, and I’ll make sure this is the last time you ever swim.”

Jirou nods repeatedly as he steps back and away from Rin. He peeks slyly over at Nitori and the other boy tenses. Jirou smirks.

“I guess this is goodbye, Nitori-kun.”

With a two-fingered salute, Jirou bids the swim team farewell and heads towards the locker room. He pauses briefly to lock gazes with his former captain one last time.

The message he sends is in English, the language they know best.

“Take care of him, Rin.”

 ii.

“Damn, Rin. You sure know how to pick ‘em.”

Seijuurou appears at Rin’s side. He observes his former teammate, expression equally serious and concerned. “Just be careful…and take care of them-” Him.

“Tch.” With a stiff nod, Rin brushes past Seijuurou and walks over to Nitori. The smaller boy is standing numbly by Momo and Sousuke, eyes fixed on the spot where Jirou had stood.

“Hey,” Rin prods gently, “Are you okay?”

The tenderness in his senpai’s voice makes Nitori’s vision blur with unshed tears and he looks away.

This hadn’t been the first time.

In the past, Nitori managed to ignore the crude insults and whispered words.

“…Not good enough…”

“…Too weak…too slow…

But then Jirou arrived. Things only grew worse.

“…probably fucked the swim team to get where he is…”

“…all that practicing won’t matter…”

“…pretty face…good for one thing…”

Nitori shakes his head, weariness and dysphoria weighing heavily on his frame. He wipes his reddened eyes and turns to his friends.

“…It’s not over,” he whispers.

Only recently has the heaviness blanketing his mind begun to clear, and with it gone, the realization that a pair of encroaching eyes have been watching him for weeks.

-a fleeting shadow passes like a wraith from behind him-

“It’s not over.”

iii.

Momo’s scared. Scared for his senpai.

He knows Nitori’s been through a lot these past couple months—the depth of which not even he can imagine.

But this…

Real sleep has evaded him for a while now. These days, Momo lies awake on his bunk, listening.

Below him, he hears the shuffling of cotton sheets and Nitori’s pained whimpers.

It always starts like this. Nitori talks in his sleep. He dreams.

What he dreams about, Momo doesn’t know.

“Please…” Nitori whispers, “…need to find…”

Sometimes he calls for Rin.

Momo waits in the darkness until Nitori quiets down. It happens gradually, like a lull in conversation, or the calm before a storm.

Suddenly, Nitori’s standing below him, and the older boy pads- no, glides across the room towards their shared desk, silent as a spectre.

Nitori sits, his back facing Momo, and reaches for something above him. His journal.

It began not long after Nitori returned from his church. Every night he would sleepwalk; every night he would sit at their desk and write, hand scrawling furiously, desperately on the lined pages of his notebook. Yet his breath always remained even, eyes closed.

It’s an eerie sight.

Momo doesn’t know what Nitori writes. He’s too scared to ask, and he would never betray his senpai’s trust by checking its contents himself.

He doesn’t know what’s happening to Nitori, what’s changing him.

He doesn’t know how to help him. How to save him.

Momo doesn’t know…

It’s infuriating. Disheartening.

And if anything bad happens to his senpai, he will never forgive himself.

Chapter Text

 lights and sound (please stay a little bit longer)

i.

Makoto had been cleaning his room when it slipped free from a shelf.  

Once upon a time, in a mystical land a long way off, there lived a beautiful princess…

He had only met Grandma Nanase once. It had been his birthday. 

This princess dutifully watched over her kingdom. Her people adored her and her family, and she in turn loved them all. The realm thrived under the royal family’s attentive care, and all was good…

But the princess felt something was amiss. There was nothing different with her outward appearance, neither did she feel ill nor could she put a name to the peculiar feeling within her, so the princess decided not to tell her family.

She, it seemed, had a Song.

He had been so young. He didn’t understand the older woman’s knowing-smile.

“For you,” she said. “Take from this what you need.”

Then, her subtle smile turned sad.

“…I wish I could help you both more.”

Now that in itself was not so very different, for the princess knew that everyone in the world carried a Song within them—sweet and pure and true. But very few knew of its existence, so very few ever sang.

For if a person were to sing their Song to an audience, the melody would be too lovely for their ears…

…So the Songs remained hidden.

Makoto had peered down at his present. It was a children’s book.

But the princess felt strange, for the Song trapped between her breasts was not her own. It was still quite beautiful, the tune clear and strong; however, it was rich like the earth beneath her feet and deep like the valleys that surrounded her kingdom.

And the princess longed to hear its singer’s voice.

ii.

It didn’t have a title.

…Far away, in a kingdom beyond the sea, a prince searched.

For many years now, the young prince combed through dense forests and journeyed through rough waters to find the one thing his heart yearned for. He believed that beyond this realm, lay the owner of the tune that beat gently in his chest.

The Song took his breath away—smooth and lilting and saccharine as golden honey.

And he must hurry, for shadows do creep through this world, and the prince has heard whispers of an evil wizard who stole Songs…Songs that the wizard commanded be for his ears only.

“Hey, onii-chan, watcha reading?”

Makoto looks up from his page. He’d been so engrossed by the book’s words that he failed to notice the twins watching patiently by his bedroom door.

In the past, the book had been his saving grace. When he had been lost, when the reality of his situation finally set into his young bones, the princess and her Song guided him.

He smiles gently, fingers running over the worn paper. “It’s a book that I got a long time ago…I’ve nearly forgotten about it.”

Upon hearing this, Ren and Ran race towards him, both plopping down on either side of his bed. The twins peer up at him expectantly.

“What’s it about?” Ren asks.

“Well…It’s a little hard to explain. Would you guys mind if I read it to you instead?”

‘Please!” Ren beams.

“And thank you!” Ran adds.

Makoto laughs and flips back to the start.

 iii.

“Sing me a tune, sweet child. I can feel how long you’ve craved to bring your song to life.”

“Please, sir, I cannot. Only one person can know my Song and it is not you.”

“I suppose.” Striding closer, the wizard quickly loomed over the frightened princess. He had found the girl alone at the very border of her kingdom, searching for her prince- her other half- and guided only by a hymn. He grinned.

With a flurry of his hand and softly murmured words, the wizard placed a binding enchantment on the princess. She gasped.

“Now, my sweet dove, sing.”

And with her delicate heart breaking, the princess opened her mouth and let her Song free…

The music was too intense, too powerful. The earth bowed and cracked beneath the princess’ feet; the forest swayed violently to the rhythm of the Song. The wizard cackled menacingly. He was victorious-

“Stop!”

Suddenly, another voiced joined in, singing the chords of her song. It awoke something within the princess that had been lost and she cried tears of joy. She was saved.

Her prince had arrived.

iv.

“Yay, the prince arrived!”

Ren nods at his twin’s exclamation. “So that’s what happens when you sing when you’re not supposed to …”

“I wish I had someone to sing my Song too~” Ran sighs, hands clasping together. “It’s very romantic. Don’t you think so, onii-chan?”

“Um, yeah, sure…” Makoto reaches back to scratch his neck, but stops.

It’s still there. Has been there since his earliest memories.

His soulmate’s True Name.

Makoto drops his hand, a distant look in his eyes. Ren and Ran notice the change and ask if he’s okay.

“I…I will be.”

He thinks of twin ocean pools; of soft words and a quiet countenance.

Makoto thinks of Haru. Of everything that could go right or horribly, horribly, wrong…

He’s noticed the growing distance between them, and he understands. Haru’s scared. He is, too. What if they weren’t actually intended for one another?

Makoto has so many unanswered questions, so many thoughts and worries plaguing his mind.

Why us…? What power lies within us…? Why can we bear the burden of one another’s Names and not everyone else…?

No! Not now.

Closing his eyes, Makoto breathes in deep. A moment later, he finds his place on the neglected page and resumes reading. Ren and Ran watch him curiously before relaxing once more at his sides.

The wizard battled with the prince and princess, using a flurry of magic spells to attack the duo. But the prince and princess sang to the earth and it shielded them. They sang further, the combined influence of their Songs causing the ground below the wizard to open up and swallow him whole.

The earth fell quiet. The wizard was defeated.

And the prince and princess were finally complete. 

Their story isn’t over yet.

And Makoto will make certain that he and Haru get the ending they deserve.

  v.

At first, they sang one another’s Song. To help them remember. Then, they sang as one.

It was magnificent.

The princess’ voice, sweet as honey, complimented the prince’s deep, earthy tones.  And with each of the princess’ lilting peaks, there were the prince’s deep valleys. Their voices were in perfect harmony; a true match.

Even the world around them felt clearer, the prince and princess themselves feeling wiser. It was as if the burdens they shouldered from the weight of their Songs had dissipated. Any prior confusion, any shadow of doubt, was erased. Upon their union, the pair had been enlightened with the knowledge of their true purpose.  

It was simple.

Together, they were happy and whole…And as one, they would use their Songs to usher in a greater, brighter, more prosperous future for their kingdoms.

 

 

The End.

Chapter Text

follow the feeling, but patiently waiting (i lose my fears to oblivion)

i.

Haru can’t sleep.

He stares up at the plastic roof of his tent, Nagisa’s quiet breathing beside him. It was the long weekend, and hours ago the Iwatobi swim team once more set foot on the island of Sukishima to train.

It had been at Haru’s insistence.

He can’t explain why. The place holds enough unpleasant memories for them all.

But like a siren’s song it calls to him. His answer.

Ever since he agreed to speak to Makoto, the urge, the need—the inexplicable longing to reach for that something—has hit its peak. Beneath his sleeping bag, the familiar warmth on Haru’s wrist prickles with heat.

Makoto is lying only a few feet away from him. Sleeping, most likely. Completely unaware of the turmoil that rages within his intended.

Haru strains to close his eyes. Outside, he can hear the waves as they sweep forward to kiss the sand. It’s a soothing sound. For a moment, it gives Haru peace.

Come, my child, the water would say. Come and find your rest here.  

Haru sits up. He chances a look at Nagisa before leaning forward to take off his shirt. Unzipping the tent flap, Haru steps out.

The wind’s picked up and there’s the faint smell of rain. Haru looks towards the open sea, towards the horizon. Even with the darkness bearing down on him, Haru can sense that a storm’s approaching…

He shakes off the sudden feeling of déjà vu.

The water is calling for him. He’ll find what he needs in its embrace.

Without looking back, Haru walks into the churning deep.

ii.  

“Makoto!”

“Haru, no!”

Makoto watches in horror as an invisible force pulls Haru’s form deeper and deeper underwater. He reaches desperately for the other boy, willing his body to swim faster, his feet to kick harder. Soon, the last few tendrils off light will no longer be able to reach them and they-

“Haruka!”

Nothing. It’s as if he’s stuck in place. He isn’t getting any closer, and Haru…

“Makoto, help-“

Haru’s voice is lost as he’s engulfed by blackness, the dark waters claiming him. The world falls silent.

…Gone.

Makoto couldn’t save him.

A cry tears through his lungs.

“NO!”

“Makoto-senpai!”

Makoto blinks away the haze. A dream.

Beside him, a flustered Rei desperately seeks out his glasses. Slipping them on, he turns to his teammate.

“Are you okay?”

Makoto shakes his head, panting. “I don’t know, but…” His eyes widen.

“Haru.”

Suddenly, Makoto is on his feet and racing outside, Rei trailing after him. The wind flings cold rain at his face, but he ignores it. Approaching Haru and Nagisa’s tent, he unzips the entrance and peers inside. His stomach drops.

Haru isn’t there.

Nagisa is sitting up in his sleeping bag and rubbing sleep from his eye. He tilts his head curiously.

“What’s going on?”

Panic wrings at Makoto’s chest as he whirls around and looks far into the raging waters.

No, he pleads. Not again.

Nagisa appears by Rei’s side. The spectacled boy watches his friend, expression morphing from concern to horrified realization.

“Makoto-senpai, is Haruka-senpai out there?”

“I have to go.”

“You can’t!” Rei reaches forward to stop him but Makoto shakes the grip off.

His wrist burns.

Slipping his sleep shirt off, Makoto addresses his friends. In the stormy darkness, his verdant eyes seem to glow, fueled by a hidden purpose.

“Go and wake Gou and Ama-sensei. Tell them what’s happened. If I’m not back within the hour…”

Momentarily, Makoto’s gaze softens with guilt. “I’m sorry. Haru…he needs me.”

…And I need him.

iii.

The water is ice cold. Rain falls from above. With it, bright veins of lightning serve to momentarily illuminate the dark, wet world around him.

Makoto is terrified.

Thalassophobia, it had been called. Fear of the open sea.

A wall of water crashes against him and he nearly goes under.

When I was younger, I watched as an old fisherman and his boat were swept under by a powerful typhoon. He’d been just three kilometres away from shore…

Resurfacing, Makoto coughs out the salt water. He surges forward.

For so long the prince searched for his princess. He braved even the stormiest of seas to be with her…

With his body, Makoto cuts a path through the rough waters. The Name on his wrist pulses an incessant beat, burning more intensely with every stroke.

Makoto feels it in his weary bones. He’s close.

And, Haru…Haru always ran on the side closest to the sea, guarding. A silent protector.

Makoto stops.

“Haru!” He calls. 

No answer.

The wind’s picked up. The sea roars loudly in Makoto’s ears as waves thrash against his tired body.

He’s so cold.

Where are you, Haru?

Makoto gazes urgently, pleadingly at the Name on his wrist. It shone like a bright beacon. His North Star.

Please…please, show me my Destined One.

It comes to him like a vision.

Haru trapped within the dark depths of the vast sea, reaching for him…

Without hesitation, Makoto breathes in deep and dives.

iv.

For a long while, all Makoto sees is inky, cloying blackness. His lungs are on fire. Panic wells up in his heart, the pressure of the water threatening to make him scream.

Though, no one would be around to hear it.

He drifts in and out of consciousness. What little strength remains is lapped away by the frigid waters surrounding him. Makoto can’t remember how or why or for what reason, but he continues on, languidly falling deeper, farther into the sea’s pitch-black realm.

Gradually, even the light on his left wrist is dampened.

v.  

There…on the very edges of his vision, Makoto sees it.

A faint spark; a lone celestial body in the empty limitlessness of space.

A boy.

Willing numb limbs to move, Makoto drifts slowly closer.

The boy lies within a glowing corona of light, virtually suspended in the undisturbed water. His dark hair sways with the current, the porcelain lines of his body completely still, eyes closed. Makoto feels his heart thaw.

The boy is beautiful. Like some ethereal, long-forgotten dream.

Yet Makoto…he knows him.

A brilliant gold flare breaks out from Makoto’s arm and for a fleeting second, he is blinded. Blinking away the spots in his eyes he peers down at his upturned wrist.

A sweeping pattern of sharp lines and curved loops- text- greet him. Somehow, Makoto understands.

He knows it instinctively, down to the sinew in his muscles and the ruby cells of his blood, that this Name belongs to the boy.

Makoto swims to his side. Gently, he takes the boy’s hand.

Haruka Nanase, Makoto whispers in his thoughts. My Haru…

The world may try to tear them apart—split the seams, bury the truth. But they would find each other again.

Always.

…It’s time to wake up,

<<…Azurelh…>>

vi.

Cerulean blue eyes open.

Another golden flare pierces through the darkness.

Haru leans toward his Destined One and smiles.

<<…Verdhen…>>

<<…i’ve missed you…>>

v. 

Up on the surface, the sea erupts in light.

Chapter Text

somebody save me (i just wanna be loved)

i.

Momo knocks on Rin’s door fifteen minutes before classes begin.

“Senpai…”

Bloodshot eyes, matted hair; the absence of a cocky grin-

“What the hell happened to you?”

From behind Rin, Sousuke peers at the duo curiously. Momo merely sighs, long and drawn out, and looks away. The younger boy looks visibly rattled.

“Rin-senpai, it’s Nitori-senpai…something’s wrong with him, and I don’t know what to do-”

Momo cuts himself off. His fists are clenched tight, knuckles pulling tight against skin.

“I feel so useless.”

Momo’s gaze locks with him. He doesn’t waver.

“I need your help. He needs you.”

ii.

“Hey, Nitori-kun! You’re being called down to the office.”

“Hm?”

Nitori slows his hurried pace. He’d just been on his way to practice. Facing his classmate, Nitori tilts his head questioningly. “What for?”

A shrug. “Not sure. I think someone’s waiting for you there, though.”

Strange. His parents rarely visit him. And never without informing him beforehand.

“Thanks! I’ll head over there now.”

So Nitori heads back where he came, farther and farther away from the pool.

For the first time in days, he can feel the beginnings of a telltale ache at the back of his skull.

 iii.

Nitori recognizes the scent before he even enters the office.

Incense.

A hand shoots out to grab the wall for support, Nitori’s knees nearly buckling underneath him. His heart thunders in his chest like the frantic pace of the drums at the Church of Enlightenment.

Inside the office, Reverend James is waiting for him.

Nitori could leave. Run away. He’s had enough to deal with these past few days. He has no obligation to meet with the enigmatic priest…

But Nitori wants to hear what the Reverend has to say. If he wishes to explain himself. The man has changed him irrevocably, there’s no questioning that.

And now, Nitori wants answers.

Allowing himself a moment longer, he breathes in deep, steeling himself for the inevitable meeting.

 iv.

“Ah! Nitori, my boy! It’s wonderful to see you again.”

Nitori offers the Reverend a wan smile, bowing. The stench of incense is stronger now that the man is before him, and Nitori swallows back the sudden urge to vomit.

“Hello, Reverend. I’m surprised to see you’re here.”

“Yes, yes. I have much to discuss with you. Would you like to take a walk outside?”

Nitori liked walking around the academy grounds. He’d found it peaceful.

Not so much anymore.

“You haven’t been to church for quite some time now…”

Nitori nods. He watches his feet as they tread over the pavement. “My parents thought it’d be best if I took a break from attending church and rest.” A half-truth.

“I see.” The man doesn’t buy it.

“It’s quite unfortunate considering how interested you were in my sermons…and how well you responded to the ceremonies.”

Nitori’s eyes dart sharply at the Reverend. “I hope you’re not referring to my passing out at church as a positive response, sir.” He picks up his pace, suddenly angry at the Reverend—at everyone.

“I was fatigued. Before that, I was under a lot of stress- I still am- from school and swim. It just so happened that I fainted during that ceremony.”

“But you’ve changed since then, haven’t you?”

The Reverend’s caught up, long limbs leading him to Nitori’s side once more. The boy’s shoulders tense.

“You’ve felt the pull in your mind—like something inside you is screaming to be let out-”

“No!” Nitori whirls to face the Reverend, eyes like frozen water, chest heaving. “I haven’t felt that. Now if you’ll excuse me, Reverend James, I’m late for practice and-”

“Then what kept you coming back, Nitori-kun? What made you ache to learn all you can about Destined Ones? Of True Names?”

Reverend James smiles, and Nitori suddenly feels trapped. Prey backed up to a corner.

“Is it because of that blank space on your left wrist? Do you wish it could have been filled?”

Nitori shakes his head, taken aback. “I-”

Large hands clamp onto his shoulders, locking the smaller boy in place. Nitori gasps in surprise. His head jerks up to meet the Reverend’s frenzied gaze.

“Be my harbinger, Nitori-kun. Unlock your Name and nothing will stand in your way. You will want for nothing—you’ll become a god among men.”

Nitori tears the Reverend’s grip off, livid.

“Then why hasn’t everyone chosen to forsake their Given Names to wake their true selves? Huh?”

Nitori takes a step back to center himself. His hands are sweaty and shaking, heart pounding.

“It’s dangerous, that’s why. Without a Destined One by your side it’s like falling without a safety net…”

Bright blue eyes stare on, challenging.

“…And you want it that way, don’t you, Reverend?”

For a moment, the world is silent around them. A soft breeze blows silver hair at Nitori’s eyes.

Suddenly, laughter breaks out.

The Reverend’s hands fall atop his stomach, deep, delighted chortles escaping him. It takes the man a minute before he manages to straighten up. With a satisfied sigh, the priest swipes off a tear.

“Ahh…you’re quite the comedian, son.”

Reverend James strides towards Nitori, grinning, and pats the boy’s shoulder patronizingly. “I see your mind’s made up. Quite unfortunate, indeed…”

Nitori stays where he is as the Reverend brushes past him to head back towards the Academy. The man continues to speak, parting words said amicably.

Nitori feels his fingertips numb, eyes widening in horror.

“I’m not too sure when we’ll bump into each other again, but uh, about that friend of yours? The young man you care so deeply for?” Nitori misses the subtle smirk, the dark gaze-

“Do watch out for him…’cause we wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to that boy, y’hear?”

v.

It’s past midnight when Rin enters Momo and Nitori’s room.

The boy in question is already fast asleep. For a while, Rin stands by Nitori’s bunk and watches him breathe, the soft rise and fall of his chest…

It doesn’t take long for his kouhai’s peaceful countenance to dissolve. Suddenly, Nitori’s cries fill the space, his body tossing and turning beneath the sheets.

Shaking the covers off, Nitori’s hand stretches upwards, reaching for something.

Rin grits his teeth, every fiber screaming at him to move, to wake the boy. But he can’t. Momo had told him that this would happen.

He has to wait.

An hour passes before Nitori’s nightmare cease and the younger boy falls quiet. Entranced, Rin’s gaze follows Nitori as he slowly sits up on the bed, eyes closed, and pads silently towards his desk.

The boy reaches for a familiar notebook, one he’s owned since he and Rin were roommates, and begins writing.

Rin feels the hairs on the nape of his neck rise. Nitori is facing away from him, the boy’s slender hand a near blur. All he hears is the urgent meeting of pen against paper.

Rin knows the notebook used to contain journals entries about him. Now…

Rin’s across the room and beside Nitori before he realizes it, hand on his kouhai’s shoulder. Gently, he shakes the boy awake.

“Ai…Ai, wake up.” 

The furious scrawling continues. Rin shakes Nitori harder.

“Ai!”

Nitori’s eyes open.

The pen in his hand slips free, clicking loudly against the wooden desk.

“Senpai…?”

Nitori’s voice is so small, so scared. Rin gives his shoulder a squeeze. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m here.”

“What…what happened?” Nitori looks around the room in confusion. He’s at his desk, a notebook splayed in front of him. It’s too dark to see what had been written down, but as the final wisps of his dream continue to cling to his mind, it quickly dawns on the boy what he’s done.

“Oh my god,” Nitori’s hands fly to his mouth, blocking the screams that threaten to break out. His eyes blur with tears. Sobs wrack across his thin form.

“Hey, shh, it’s okay.” Rin takes hold of Nitori’s chair and swings it around to face him. He crouches down in front of his kouhai, hand rubbing soothing circles on his knee.

“Momo came to talk to me about…this. You’ve had nightmares- been sleepwalking- for a while now. We’re all worried, Ai.”

“I didn’t know,” Nitori cries. “I thought I was getting better…thought the haze left for good…”

“Wait, what? Ai, what’s going on? Is this about that church thing? Or Jirou? I swear to god if he-”

“No,” Nitori’s hand falls atop Rin’s, soft and clammy. Blunt fingernails trace patterns on his skin. Nitori follows its trail. His lashes are still wet, eyes suddenly distant. Sad.

He remembers something from his dream.

“…If you Seek, then you shall Find. Who I am, the Name’s defined…”

“Ai-”

“Senpai, please take this.”

Reaching behind him, Nitori takes hold of his journal. As he does this, he grasps Rin’s hand, flips it over palm up, and places the notebook on top.

Nitori doesn’t meet Rin’s concerned look but offers him a shaky smile. “I’m sorry I’ve worried you so much, senpai. But I don’t have your answers. I don’t know what’s happening to me…that’s why I want you to have this.”

“Damnit, Ai, I don’t care about the journal! I care about you!”

Warm hands encircle Nitori’s wrist in a solid, desperate grip. Even hidden in the shadows, Rin’s gaze is fiercely beautiful. Nitori wishes he could drown in it.

“We’ll figure this out together, okay? We-”

Nitori shakes his head, slender hands twisting around to grasp Rin’s own wrists. The journal lies unopened on his lap.

“Rin-senpai, I trust you with my life. That’s why, if things go wrong—when the time’s right, please read what’s inside.”

Nitori thinks of frenzied, fevered eyes and a deep laugh-

“-And stay safe.”

“Tch, don’t tell me what to do.” Rin looks away, scoffing. Gradually, his expression softens.

“I understand.” He sighs softly, hands detangling themselves from Nitori’s. He picks the journal up. “But I expect you do the same, got that?”

Nitori beams. “Yes, sir.”

“C’mon then,” Rin rises and dusts himself off. “Let’s get some sleep.”

Rin offers his hand, reminding Nitori of that day at the pool. Like an anchor, his senpai continues to keep the world from sweeping him away.

Nitori takes it and holds on.

Chapter Text

forever in my mind, only you

i.

Haru and Makoto wake up in phases.

For a while, they remain afloat in the endless, blank streams of their subconscious. No longer does this space feel so desolate, its currents raging. The only thing that accompanies them in their sleep is a profound sense of oneness. They drift peacefully a moment longer.

Gradually, the sound of waves lapping against the shore break through their dreamworld’s hold.

At first, the pair register the feel of fine sand pressed on damp skin. Then, the sound of quiet, even breathing.

“Haru…”

The word is a contented sigh, the barest whisper. Haru should have felt it brush against the hairs on his nape. Instead, it tickles at the back of his mind. Like a person’s first step through an open doorway.

“Makoto…”

Strong arms pull him closer at the waist, sand parting beneath. Haru opens his eyes. 

And he meets a sea of green.

Makoto smiles.

“Hey…”

“Hey,” Haru replies, feeling the corners of his own mouth quirk up.

He can tell that they’re no longer at Sukishima Island. Perhaps Oshima. The sky is clear above them, stars doting the inky blackness. The sea is calm at their feet. It’s as if a storm had never disturbed this peace. Makoto’s arm remains at his side, and Haru far from minds.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.” Better than fine.  

Haru feels grounded. Settled. Like he’s broken through some proverbial shell and emerged as—as this. The thought is quickly echoed by Makoto.

"Are you in my mind right now?”

Haru takes his time getting up, gently nudging Makoto’s arm back. He sits facing the sea.

The sound of shifting sand. Makoto is close enough that he can feel the heat radiating off his skin.

“As much as you’re present in mine.”

Haru isn’t surprised. He feels so much now. But not surprise. Or anxiety. Or fear. 

He understands so much more now too. That he and Makoto are Destined One; that they’ve recently Awakened. They are still themselves, yet, greater now that they’ve realized their True Names.

“…You never told me why you ran.”

Haru blinks. His gaze remains on the horizon. “You could just read my mind.”

“That wouldn’t be half as much fun,” Makoto says with a grin. Haru hesitates, gathering his thoughts.

“I was scared. I didn’t know what was happening to me. My mind had been running a million different directions, while my heart ran to one. I was unsure whether I was making the right choice…”

Fingertips brush gently against his back. Haru shivers.

He glances sideways. Makoto is watching him, green eyes fathomless.

“The water…it said that it would be grant me the answer that I needed…”

In the darkness, with only the stars offering their light, golden text placed on twin wrists glowed brighter.

“…And it gave me you, didn’t it?”

 ii.

“Haru-chan, Mako-chan!”

“You’re back!” Rei cries, running towards the shore. Up ahead, he sees Makoto and Haru emerge from the water. “You’re safe!”

Nagisa blows past him, bounding into the shallow surf before launching himself into Makoto and Haru’s arms. Both welcome him fondly.

“I can’t believe it…” Rei breathes as he stops in front of the trio. “How…?"

He and Nagisa had waited for nearly three hours in the storm. They’d been sick with worry, convinced that they lost their best friends to the sea’s bottomless depths. They should’ve stopped them, should’ve called the coast guards. They shouldn’t have set foot on this godforsaken island-

Yet, here they are. Standing before him, happy and in perfect health.

However, something feels different, Rei thinks. Nothing bad, necessarily, but…different.

Rei observes the pair. The way they stand close to one another with such ease, heads held high and eyes bright. There’s a certain…presence to them now.

He feels like he’s witnessing the start of something big.

Rei opens his mouth to speak-

“We have to tell Ama-chan and Gou!” Nagisa suddenly realizes.

He’s already turning back when Makoto takes hold of his arm, stopping him.

“Sorry, Nagisa, but they’ll have to wait a little longer…”

He turns to Haru, a question in his eyes.

Haru nods. “We have to talk to you both.”

“Rei, you already know some of what’s happening.” Makoto interjects.

“But there’s more.”

Haru’s gaze lingers back to the open sea behind him. His expression is one of concentration, as if he’s sensing something in the distance.

“We may be too late…I fear another storm’s heading this way.”

 iii.

01:43

Location: Classified

The space is large. Busy.

Within rows of elevated desks, a man taps away at the keyboard in front of him. He pauses to yawn. 

Suddenly, blinking red text appears at the top corner of his screen. A scroll of text—information—follow.

His eyes widen.

The man stands up so quickly his chair rolls away and careens against the desk behind him. He calls for his supervisor.

A stern-looking older man soon arrives. Before a question could slip past his superior’s lips, the man urgently points at his computer screen. A window has been opened. It features a map and a single red dot hovering over bare waters.

“Sir, at approximately one-forty this morning, a huge energy burst was dedicated seven miles off the island of Sukishima."

The man steps aside as his superior takes a look. A minute passes in tense silence before the older man speaks, eyes never straying from the map before him.

“Is it them?”

The man nods, expression sober.

“Yes, sir. I believe it is.”

Chapter Text

(…is it the end?)

Chapter Text

my love is a weapon (there is nowhere to hide)

i.

It’s raining outside, and Rin can’t fall asleep.

He lies on his bunk, the sound of Sousuke’s even breaths above him. His hands drum a steady pulse on the journal at his stomach.

A little earlier, when the night had become total and the school quieted down, he had read it.

And it…it didn’t make sense.

Undecipherable text—jagged lines and deep curves; dots and dashes. It was in a language that didn’t exist. A dead language, buried and forgotten and hidden by a world that feared it…

Yet somehow it spoke to him—sang to him.

The words were powerful. They crashed against him like waves and pulled him close until all he saw was graphite and ink.

“…If you Seek, then you shall Find. Who I am, the Name’s defined…”

And in its heart was Nitori.

Silver and crystal blue. Warmth and aching, and smiles and tears, and-

Nitori.

Nitori.

Nitori.

Rin had felt his own tears prickling at the corner of his eyes.

The other boy had entrusted him with this…

More than his life. His soul.

ii.

He had just fallen into sleep’s snares when the fire alarm rings.

Rin and Sousuke jolt awake with twin groans of confusion, feet dropping unsteadily onto the floor. They’re nearly out the door, jackets on, when Rin remembers something.

He looks back. The journal is on his bed. He tells Sousuke to go ahead—he’ll be right behind him—before running to grab it.

Rin places it inside the protection of his coat and zips up as he rushes out.

The journal lies on his chest, atop his racing heart. Familiar.

iii.

Rin and the rest of the students and teachers make it outside, the fire alarm still shrieking loudly from behind them.

The wind’s also picked up since an hour ago. It pelts cold rain at Rin’s face from every angle, wetness soaking through his school jacket immediately. He worries about the journal.

It’s still dark out. Lightning cascades across the stormy night, the deep bass of thunder accompanying it.

Suddenly, he hears a scream.

It came from one of the boys in the crowd, their face frozen in horror. Another scream, from farther away, echoes it.

Rin looks ahead into the night along with the others.

iv.

It’s raining outside, yet Nitori doesn’t feel the cold.

“N-Nitori, man, please! Don’t do this!”

He’s vaguely aware of the crowd gathering outside the school, stunned faces turning his way. The sound of sirens and cars speeding through slick streets pierce through the constant, pounding rain.

He’d caught up with Jirou and his friends easily. They wouldn’t have been able to hide.

With locked limbs, face contorted in absolute horror, Jirou watches as Nitori effortlessly bends the wind to his command. He lifts his two cohorts easily into the air, legs and arms thrashing madly in their soaked clothing.

They can’t scream. Can’t call out or beg for mercy. Nitori’s silenced them-

(…Like I was…)

Someone in the crowd cries out for the boys, however, Jirou’s own shriek following right after. He collapses onto the ground, legs no longer able to support him. His track pants grow wet with something other than water as he desperately scrambles backwards.

“Nitori, I’m sorry! F-Fuck, I’m so sorry! Don’t-!”

The blaring sirens are suddenly at the forefront. Firefighters and police have arrived.

Lightning flashes.

Nitori flicks his wrist and twin breaths are stolen. Jirou’s friends fall unceremoniously onto the ground, a watery thwap accompanying them.

More screams break through the night.

Suddenly the police are pulling their guns out form their holsters, barking out orders for Nitori to raise his hands up. He blinks.

He lifts his hands, palms splayed. The police go flying.

So do the bullets.

One nicks Nitori on the shoulder. The wound barely registers, already beginning the process of healing.

His attention remains on Jirou. The boy’s tears mix in with the rain as he continues to plead for his existence, for a second chance.

Nitori directs his arms towards him-

“Ai, stop!”

He halts.

Lightning flashes. In the corner of his eye, beyond the sudden white world, Nitori spots the color red.

This...for me…

For us.

He splays his palm.

With a final, ragged gasp, hands flying to his chest and neck, Jirou is no more.

The rain pours.

v.

“Ai, stop!”

Seconds ago, armored vehicles came barrelling into the academy grounds, men donning tactical equipment and others in black suits stepping out.

Rin runs faster than he’s ever had in his life.

He runs through the icy sleet, through howling winds. He runs to Nitori…

But he’s too late.

He watches as Jirou slumps lifelessly onto the ground, eyes wide open. Unseeing.

The winds blows harder. Rin can feel his feet losing traction. Around him he hears the sounds of branches breaking, of roof tiles being pulled apart. The world is dark then light, cold and wet, and he almost loses sight of Nitori.

The boy rests in the eye of the storm—blue gaze aglow yet strangely serene—where dozens of red dots have covered his body, the soldiers’ sights now aimed at him.

“Ai!”

Rin screams till his lungs burn. He runs.

And suddenly, he’s weightless.

It happens so quickly, every civilian and soldier around him lifted into the air like rag-dolls; the puppet master propelling them every which way with blasts of hurricane-strength winds.

For a moment, Rin’s thoughts leave with the winds.

And then his body meets the earth, and he feels something inside him snap. In a flash of pain, quicker than any lightning bolt, Rin understands what it felt like for Jirou’s breath to be ripped- rendered- torn from within himself.

The sodden darkness around Rin is dotted with bright spots. He curses.

Willing his aching lungs to take in air, Rin concentrates. Somehow, beyond the chaos of the scene around him and the painful, hollow emptiness in his crippled body, he catches a glimpse of Nitori.

He’s close.

“Ai…” Rin wheezes. He tries to get up on his elbows.

Maybe he can crawl. Maybe he-

Rin’s head drops. He can feel himself slipping.

Possible concussion…at least three broken ribs…

He can hear the soldiers’ frantic attempts to regroup. It won’t be long now.

And by then, Nitori will have stripped them of the oxygen in their being.

Rin pulls his leg forward with a grunt and starts crawling. Something slips out of his torn jacket.

Nitori’s journal.

Time slows to an abrupt halt. Suddenly, Rin is hyperaware of the rain that fall on his open skin, of the blood that urgently surges through bruised veins and shallow cuts. He can feels something much deeper within him break.

Ai…I’m so sorry…

…With his heart heavy as lead, he realizes what he has to do.

vi.

Nitori can sense shifts in the air as more bullets whiz past him. None hit their mark, the winds proving too strong for any of the soldiers to aim their guns properly. The storm around them is unrelenting and Nitori, at its heart, remains numb to it all.

With Jirou and his friends gone, he no longer sees a point in drawing this scene out.

Raising his palms skyward, Nitori hones in on the invisible breath trapped within each soldier’s trachea…

One more move. It ends here.

He finds it. Hands clench into fists, and he takes hold.

At once, dozens of firearms clatter to the ground, soldiers clawing desperately at the phantom grip around their necks.

Nitori closes his eyes…draws forth this power-

<<…Nymaeah, stop! …>>

The word was a ragged, broken sigh. Resigned. But the command slices through the wind and rain like a blade. It silences the world.

Nitori’s hands drop to his sides and his eyes seek Rin’s.

vii.

Nitori’s crying.

“S-Senpai…?”

His voice is scared and confused. Choked up. Despite the cold wetness that soaks every inch of the boy’s naked body, Rin identifies the warmth that runs down his cheeks.

And it is Nitori in front of him. Not…not that.

Nitori looks around the dark spaces encompassing him, tries to make sense of what he can. His arms draw close to himself. A barrier from the truth.

Pushing the searing pain in his bones to the side, Rin forces himself to kneel. But it’s too much, too soon.

The sweet surrender that Rin had been battling from before has finally come for him, and he can no longer stop it.

The sounds of the storm becomes muffled. A more absolute darkness creep at the edges of his vision.

“Ai…”

He takes one more look at Nitori, standing alone in the center of the field. Pale and small.

Tragic, vulnerable, beautiful Nitori…

viii.

What happened…?

What happened to me…?

Nitori winds his numb arms tighter around himself. With what little strength he has.

He feels as if he’s woken up from some otherworldly dream…

He had been at the pool, swimming. Then Jirou came and he…

Nitori chokes back a sob.

Suddenly he was himself but more…and his other-self did things. Things he can’t remember. Blurred, intangible images…

And Rin…

Nitori turns back to his senpai and his blood runs cold.

Rin is face-down on the ground. Unconscious.

The sight rouses Nitori from the whirlwind of his emotions, and he hurries on shaking legs toward his senpai.

He barely takes a step when he feels a sharp prick burrow into his neck.

Hands fly past his collarbone, up onto his fleshy nape-

A tranquilizer dart.

Men in dark tactical gear—soldiers, are racing his way. Nitori doesn’t understand…

What have I done…?

He falls to his knees. Like before, he can feel himself descending into nothingness.

Senpai…

Before he slips away, Nitori weakly reaches out for Rin.

…But all his fingers catch is air.