Appoggiatura Finished PV Ruka Tân

@Flash Holmwood

As Ruka moved across the Grounds at a safe distance from Flash, he made sure not to step on any twigs and branches in fear of being seen as he so blatantly followed the Slytherin away from a party that was only just beginning.
He couldn't help but laugh dryly at how this was the second birthday party he'd walked out of within less than two months already, and a small part of him was hopeful it meant that people would just get the hint and stop inviting him. 

It took less time than he thought it would for Flash to seek some refugee among brush and branches, and Ruka stopped a few feet away, gnawing on his already raw bottom lips as he watched the other boy lose all that carefully crafted composure seemingly at once.

With a couple of steps, Ruka carefully approached the Slytherin, listening to the way small twigs snapped as they got caught in his throw blanket with every step he took closer to the boy on his knees. The occasional sobs filling the chilly night air made Ruka tense slightly, faintly recalling the way it had sounded when Jack had gone through an absolute breakdown just the day before.

Shaking the memory of that confrontation, Ruka slowly knelt down next to Flash, taking the night clothes he'd collected on his way off his shoulder to wordlessly drop them next to the Slytherin boy. 

"You left early," he said after a moment, adjusting himself to sit on the cool grass with his knees pulled against his chest. His eyes were fixed on something ahead of him; a tree, a shadow, a memory, he wasn't exactly sure.

He wasn't supposed to be here, he found himself thinking in an instant. Jack's words from the day before about how Flash would benefit of having someone like Ruka around, someone who didn't want or need all those masks he put on every day, were ringing painfully through his head, and yet he didn't feel like he had any reason to be sitting here while Flash let his tears drip into the damp soil beneath him. 

The few times he had interacted with Flash before hadn't exactly been positive, and there was one thing Jack was right about: Flash did need a real friend, but that person wasn't Ruka, under no circumstances.

"It's not the best party, sure, but I didn't think it was much to cry about either." He looked down at his knees for a moment before finally looking over at the other boy with a deep sigh. He had recognised the lost look in Flash's eyes back at the party just before he had taken off, but he wasn't going to mention that to the Slytherin yet. 

There was no relationship between them that warranted Ruka to be showing any worry for Flash's tears, and he wasn't going to just give his concern away for free.

Flash’s attention was drawn by the sound of nearby footsteps, but he had to blink away the wet fog in his eyes before any kind of detail could be made out in the oppressive darkness. His heart threatened to beat to exhaustion in fear that he wouldn’t be able to explain himself, that he should have gone farther, been more discreet, but the unremitting drumming became more bearable when the figure knelt down beside him and spoke.

”Ruka…” Flash voice broke a bit, not having been ready to speak, yet dumbly acknowledging Ruka anyway.

Flash picked up the night clothes Ruka brought to try and dry his face, as his sleeve had already become too saturated to be of much use. His overall visage, however, was impossible to salvage. His bright blue eyes were haloed by a sea of red soreness. His lips trembled and his brow was stuck lifted in a pathetic, begging arch. Flash knew exactly what his crying face looked like, the kind of a face a scared, lost child had. The kind that was unacceptable, disgusting. No one ever wanted to see him as he was then, except perhaps to mock him.

But it was Ruka seeing him, not someone else. Somehow that was different, Ruka wasn’t like other people. Even without being friends, Flash had felt it, right at the end of their conversation all that time ago. Ruka wasn’t like Willow and Alan, nor even Burnett and himself. Even when he had put so many faces in between his body and the theatre-goer in his mind, Ruka had somehow seen through it all, right to his core. Flash thought he had pulled his feelings apart from himself, so far away that they were safe in the ether of heaven, floating away to never be seen again. Clearly he had failed.

There was no point in pretending around Ruka, it seemed all at once to be a cruel twist of fate and an uninvited blessing that he decided to follow after him. To return his clothes-- not likely. Wanting to keep tabs on him for Burnett, wanting to make sure he wasn’t being suspicious… no, given the context Flash thought Ruka was simply also trying to escape the crowd. He had seen his body language, surrounded by all the smiling faces. Perhaps he had been happy to have any excuse at all, though that only made his intention with Flash more unclear.

Why didn’t he just excuse himself to go back to the castle? Morbid curiosity? Perhaps he delighted in seeing Flash’s hideous frailty, a reminder of how powerless he really was, regardless of all the strings he had neatly woven together to catch his fall. None of his friends would be able to catch him, he would fall through their fingers like sand. Ruka was there, at the bottom, solid and alive. A survivor, he said. At that moment he could see it, Ruka had been through much worse than he had and came out the other end still breathing. Still sharp, still awake. It was admirable.

”It’s not… it’s a lovely party.” Flash began to reply to the words Ruka had offered him, starting a dialogue even though it seemed he hardly wanted to. ”I don’t know why… I was so happy a moment ago, but I…”

Flash had to choke on his words, trying to resist the tears' continued falling. There was so much, as if a well inside him was trying to purge its contents while it could. He couldn’t talk if he was crying, however, and he wanted to talk.

”Aren’t you glad? It looks like you were right about everything. Even when I’m surrounded by friends I feel alien. Even after I tried to open up, after I shared parts of myself.” Flash couldn’t talk for long without having to catch his breath, the crying had used up all the power his lungs had. ”I thought I had learned my lesson, but I’m still… alone.”

Flash’s instincts told him to stop talking about himself, to remind him that Ruka couldn’t possibly care about his feelings. Still, he wanted to say them. Ruka could run off and tell Burnett everything for all he cared. Flash didn’t care anymore. If his entire life was supposed to continue in such a fashion, he didn’t know how he would survive it. Constantly scraping away at his insides, trying to not leave anything behind that could be hurt, that could offend. All of it pointless. Everything was pointless. The universe might laugh at his insignificant efforts, if it cared at all.

The moisture of the forest bed was starting to soak through his pants legs, bringing his thoughts back to earth. He heaved a sigh, his morose mood travelling with it back into the air. That was right, the universe didn’t care about his idiotic little games. Nature continued on without him, growing and dying with the seasons outside the influence of human society. He felt the dead leaves beneath his hand and a calm returned to his heart. The calm of an empty void.

”Sorry. You probably don’t want to hear this.” Flash’s voice was soft and flat, staring at the ground as if looking through it to something beyond. The earth was full of history, kings and peasants alike wrapped side-by-side in the embrace of the dirt. ”You only wanted a distraction anyway, right? You have my permission to leave, you don’t have to suffer through my complaints any longer.”

@Ruka Tân

@Flash Holmwood

It really needed to stop, this sound of tear cracked voices saying his name, because Ruka didn't think he would be able to handle much more of it. 

At least, he didn't have a close enough relationship with Flash for it to be piercing his heart the way it had done when Jack had said his name in that same broken, tear-filled voice just a day before. Was there something in the water that was making all of them have their emotional breakdowns at the same time?

It had already been hard enough to see Jack, someone he genuinely cared for, go through whatever he had been struggling with the day before, but at least in that case he had actually wanted to be there. In the case of Flash he felt completely at a loss, not knowing what to do or say to provide any sort of comfort.

Was he even supposed to provide any comfort in the first place? If he wanted to try and connect to Flash at any level at all the way Jack had suggested he should, comfort was probably a good start.

He watched attentively as Flash picked up his night clothes, not to put them on but to wipe his face with them which... wasn't exactly what Ruka had expected, but clearly Flash was in much bigger need of cleaning his face of the evidence of his tears than to shield his body from the cold. Weaselling his way around the dress code had been a smart choice; he would have been freezing in nothing but pyjamas.

For a second Ruka had the urge to run and scold Alan and Willow for having a Pyjama Party in such cool temperatures in the first place, but there were more pressing concerns at hand.

Concerns like Flash joining in a conversation Ruka had never intended to take any further than this in the first place. Even now, with bloodshot eyes and tear stained skin, hands dirty from the mud he had been steadying himself on, Flash couldn't help but engage in meaningless pleasantries, if only for a moment. Just a tiny second to give himself the illusion of normalcy, like he needed it to be able to move on to what was really on his mind.

The truth, the unmasked truth, seemed to come harder to Flash than the protest about the party having been lovely, came out strangled by sobs like his own body was trying to prevent him from admitting to how unhappy he truly was. 
Loneliness was something Ruka had been able to see right from the start, right there at the core of this pretty, easy to love doll he had made of himself, so the admission of feeling alone no matter what didn't exactly come as a surprise to him.

"Just because you conform to their dress code doesn't make you part of the crowd," he said with a little sigh, scraping the tip of his sneakers against the dirt underneath him. Eyebrows raised slightly, Ruka looked over at the other boy, head tilted to the side in question. "But is that the kind of person you take me for? That I would just come to revel in your misery?" He chuckled lightly, no trace of humour in it. Never had he thought of himself as someone who took pleasure out of other people's pain. 

If he was completely honest he rarely found himself caring enough about anybody to ever waste an unnecessary thought on their emotions at all. 

Again the feeling that there was something irreparably wrong inside him tightened his chest but only for a moment until Flash's voice steered his mind back on track again. The other boy's words made him bubble out a surprised laugh, body shaking lightly with it as he tilted his head back for a moment. "I didn't need your permission to begin with," he pointed out, a glint of amusement in his eyes as he turned to look at Flash again, features softening a little as he took in the other boy's fragile shape. "If I had somewhere better to be then I'd be there, but it turns out I belong at that party about as much as you do, if not less, so this is as good a place as any, right?" 

He pulled the throw blanket off his shoulder and slowly reached over to drape it across Flash's shoulders. Despite the fact that he was wearing what seemed to be a relatively warm sweater, Ruka couldn't help feeling like the emotional turmoil he had just experienced was going to leave him cold and empty soon enough. His expression was already well on the way to matching that.

"So what was the breaking point?" Ruka asked calmly, a spark of curiosity lighting his eyes. It was almost funny how he had only just yesterday predicted to Jack that Flash wasn't going to last much longer without realising how truly alone he was despite all his superficial friendships, that he was trying to fill a void with nothing but insignificant moths drawn in by a fake flame. "Was it seeing all those people and realising you have no idea where your place is among them?" 

It must have sounded like a jab at Flash, like he was trying to make fun of him, but a bitter little laugh would give away that it wasn't meant to come across that way. 

"Because that's usually where I hit mine."

While Flash was not watching Ruka’s face, the tone of his voice was something like boredom, or annoyance, or perhaps both. He wondered aloud whether Flash truly believed he was the type to revel in someone else’s misery, but Flash honestly didn’t know. The way his sister had talked, it seems like the whole world was their enemy, and everyone was out to get them.

He might have misunderstood her words. Had it only ever been a feeling he made up, that everyone wanted him to fail? So often he had shown weakness, only for the people around him to look the other way. Even the situation he was in now was better than he expected. It was suspicious, frightening.

”I suppose not.” Flash answered shortly, noncommittally. While Ruka was nice enough to him now, how long would it be before the other shoe dropped? Ruka laughed, but the sound came out as though towards nothing at all. Just a sound.

He continued, insisting he would be elsewhere if he so wanted. Even more suspicious, wasn’t anywhere better than hovering around a sad, crying idiot? Ruka had nothing invested in Flash, no reason to treat him kindly. Not even common empathy need apply, since Flash had so thoroughly dehumanized Ruka to begin with. Was it some kind of prank, some method of humiliation worse than he could even imagine?

Then, as he was staring into the forest floor, ruminating on his inevitable punishment, the movement of Ruka’s arms drew his attention up. He sat frozen in place as Ruka wrapped the large, downy blanket over him, a great sense of weight and warmth enveloping him all at once. He hadn’t noticed how cold his hands were getting, suddenly wrapping them around himself in realization.

Flash’s tears were gone anyway, getting their last word in before Flash began to regulate. He was looking at Ruka now, watching him. He asked a question, his eyes alight with some kind of fire. He had seen it before, when he should have been angry at him, he instead seemed to only grow more interested in asking questions. Was that just who Ruka was? He seemed almost excited to hear the answer.

Then, caught locked in eye contact, Ruka started talking in that tone he adapted… it almost felt like disgust. Not to Flash, nor any of the partygoers, but what? The world? Himself?

”Ruka…” Even though Ruka had asked him pointed questions, ones that might have felt like a blade against his skin before, his face changed Flash’s focus. It was his turn to be interested. ”You’re too clever, people disappoint you because they don’t challenge you.”

It seemed to follow, as far as Flash knew. He always felt like Ruka operated on a different system than everyone else, it wasn’t a surprise he found everyone hard to relate to. As much as he hated to admit it, Burnett was a decent pair with Ruka, no doubt always keeping things interesting. Afterall, there was no one more ‘challenging’ than he was.

”Maybe it’s not worth it. Maybe we should both get lobotomies and live out the rest of our lives completely clueless.” Even though he had a mind to fight it back, a smile snuck across his features. He tried to hide it with his hand, but it only ended up making him smile more beneath it. He far too often laughed at his own jokes, he needed to learn to control it better. ”I’m sorry.”

@Ruka Tân

@Flash Holmwood

Flash's answer to his question about if he really thought Ruka to be the kind of person to revel in other's misfortune was barely an answer at all, didn't give away any real emotions or opinions, like his thoughts on the matter were of no importance in the first place.

It was almost frustrating to listen to, and Ruka wanted to call him out on it, but one look at the boy next to him had him swallowing the words on the tip of his tongue. This was no time to make a jab at Flash. Kicking people while they were down had nothing to do with comfort in any way, and it was about time Ruka installed a bit of a filter. 

Instead of saying something he might regret, he covered Flash with the throw blanket, tilting his head curiously one way and the other as he watched the Slytherin wrap himself in an embrace as if only just realising how cold it had gotten. 
For a long while Ruka just kept his eyes on Flash, watching as the other boy seemed to slowly collect himself again, tears stilling, blue eyes carefully watching the Gryffindor himself as if studying some incredibly rare artefact at a museum.

It was different to be watched by Flash this time. There was something piercing there that made Ruka feel like he was less a means to an end to be analysed and figured out, and more of a person to be considered from all angles. Coming from Flash, that look made Ruka hum in vague interest.

"Is that so?" he asked slowly at the other boy's words, gaze drifting to where his knees were pressed against his chest. He'd never thought himself particularly smart; HIs grades were average, his skills with numbers barely non existent. Sometimes, when people talked about seemingly fundamental things, he couldn't help but feel like he grew up on a different planet.

Maybe, however, it was a different kind of clever that Flash was talking about. Book smarts weren't everything, and maybe social skills weren't all that necessary to be considered clever either. Hadn't Jack told him just the day before that he paid attention a little too much sometimes? Was he not able to see right through Flash's scheme to get information out of Ruka shortly after meeting the boy?

Reading people like he did was a skill he figured not everyone possessed. Maybe that was the kind of clever he was.

People smart.

However, something didn't sit right with him about Flash's observation and he took a moment to mull the words over in his head. Was it disappointment he felt towards other people? That glaring emptiness as he interacted with anybody? No, he didn't think that was the right word.

Shaking his head he looked back up at Flash to meet his eyes. Despite being dry, they were still rimmed red with irritation. "People don't disappoint me," he said slowly, reaching up a hand to dab at his sore bottom lip, squeezing it lightly between his thumb and forefinger to check for any bleeding cuts. "They bore me." He laughed lightly as he let go of his lip again, eyelids fluttering shut for a moment as if tired of even thinking about it. "I don't even..." He sighed as his sentence drifted off, not seeing it worth to go any deeper into his psyche than he already had with the few words he had said so far.

His sight settled back on Flash when the other boy spoke again, this time to make a joke and display his own amusement for it in a way that was so shamelessly real that it sparked Ruka's interest much more than the words themselves. "Don't be," he said when Flash apologised, possibly for the bad joke, but most likely for the way he had taken amusement from his own words. As if he thought it improper somehow to appreciate your own sense of humour. 

Ruka leaned over lightly to nudge his own shoulder against Flash's. "It's good to see there's a real boy somewhere inside of you, Pinocchio." 

Ruka seemed to encourage Flash to let his guard down completely as he asked him not to apologize. It wasn’t something he really did, for anyone. As much as he had been vulnerable, opened up, and shared himself, he never completely let go of control. He always kept a hold of the part that was unacceptable. No one, not even the most empathetic and honest that mankind had to offer, was truly selfless. In the end, everyone cared about themselves first and foremost, so sharing everything was never going to be an option... or so he thought.

The person he was underneath it all, the one he might have been without the constraints of his position, was not worth knowing anyway. The errant thoughts that went through his head were impulsive, often spiteful and sometimes whimsical. The amount of times he had to hold himself back only proved that he shouldn't be unleashed. Yet Ruka was Ruka. Whether he would be happy with what he found there didn’t matter. He wanted to know just to know.

Then, he fired back with his own joke. Flash decided to relent, let go of all pretenses. What did it matter. He laughed, holding his gut instead of shielding his face.

”Real boy… for goodness sakes…” Flash’s laughter quickly calmed into a satisfied sigh, the smile staying firmly placed on his face. ”If you ask me, being real is vastly overrated. A terrible nightmare.”

Flash spoke without thinking, simply saying what came to his head. The two of them were alone, and Ruka had endeared himself to him, for whatever reason. Perhaps only because he wasn’t ‘boring’. Whether that interest would vanish suddenly once he began to speak his mind, he wouldn’t know. Perhaps it would be the final nail in the coffin, proving that he was nothing without his faces. At least he would be giving Ruka what he wanted.

”You’ve been wearing new clothes, eating and sleeping better. But it’s never enough. That’s because it’s pointless. It’s all blood and sweat, and at the end of it your deeds are weighed to see their worth. Well…” Flash stopped, realizing he didn’t want to dwell on such a dreary topic. He didn’t want to spoil the good feeling that was welling up inside of him. ”I think it’s lovely anyway. Burnett can’t be all bad if he’s helped you that much.”

Flash sighed heavily, now rapt in something more akin to coziness rather than the endless despair he had been filled with earlier. Burnett was benefitting Ruka somehow, but the details were all unclear. Partly, Flash didn’t care to know the particulars of their arrangement. Even though he had an endless curiosity for knowing people, the way Burnett went about things made the work of looking into them so incredibly tedious. It wasn’t pertinent to the conversation at hand anyway.

”But I don’t want to talk about him. Anyone would have helped you if you let them. It doesn’t mean anything if you don’t want it.” Even though he had tried to keep away from dimmer subjects, they leaked into his words like a roof that long needed fixed. Unfiltered, Flash’s eyes showed the distant pain again, quietly begging for help. ”It would be nice to see you flourish, see what kind of person you become.”

Flash’s sight returned to what was in front of him. With Ruka so close, it was clear there was an attempt, but without proper knowledge. Since he had squatted down himself, he was still a good head below Flash’s towering height, comparatively. The boy was so short that Flash hadn’t really had the chance to look into his face properly before then.

Flash reached forward gingerly and started fussing with his hair. With a hairstyle, there were important things to consider, even without going to a stylist or using a product. Face shape, the eyes, and the natural split in one's hairline meant most people were more restricted in flattering styles than they might have thought. Having been trained in decoration and presentation, Flash knew how to account for these things. Flash’s forefinger traced the line of Ruka’s scalp until he found the hairline, and then set to work settling it properly, running his hands through the feathery mop to give it something more fitting to his features.

”Here, you’ll look more handsome like this.” Flash spoke as he worked. Not having much to fix, he was quickly done, repairing what he could with all the split, burnt ends.

He didn’t stop there, wiping a smudge off his face and dusting some hair off his sweater. Next, he took his hand, knowing from the talent show what he planned on saying next. Normally he would be too polite to mention it, but they were far beyond that threshold now. Holding onto his hand with one of his own, he used the other to carefully lift his sleeve. Burns, old and new, covered his arm unabashedly. No one brought that much pain upon themselves just for a hobby.

”If you really want to get better, this has to stop.” Flash’s voice was serious, tracing some of the scarred tissue with his fingers to feel the depth of the damage. Some of them were so bad they could have been third degree, something that could never be healed. ”Scars are… memories of pain. You aren’t taking care of these burns at all. It’s like you want to remember.”

Flash returned his searching look to Ruka’s face, now alight with his own fervent curiosity.

@Ruka Tân

@Flash Holmwood

Ruka kept his eyes on Flash as the boy laughed at being called Pinocchio, and it was such a real sound, such an unashamed gesture of not even attempting to cover it behind his hands, that the Gryffindor couldn't help but let a small smile light up his own face. 
There was something far more intriguing about this side of Flash than the side that tried to manipulate through kindness. Something gentler, more vulnerable and yet much more radiant. Ruka couldn't get rid of the curious sparkle that lit up his eyes.

"Of course you would say that," he pointed out as Flash attested to how overrated being real was. He thought he knew what it meant to be real for someone like the Slytherin; It meant to take off all his masks and costumes and watching people react to what was underneath. There were no excuses, no way to blame it on someone or something else should anybody not react well.

It was easy, he thought, to blame another person for not falling for an act, and it was even easier to blame the act for not working as well as it should have. In the end they were all just an excuse to not having to blame yourself. 

No costumes, however, no matter how delicately woven together, could last forever, and once there was a tear it was only a matter of time for the whole thing to come apart at the seams, just to leave you exactly where Flash was finding himself right now.

Alone.

Lost in his thoughts, Ruka flinched a little when Flash talked again, green eyes locking with the other boy's for a moment as he listened intently. "Other people have wanted to," he pointed out quietly, thinking back on all the empty promises he had to listen to before. "They just didn't. It's easy to say you want to help but much harder to follow through on it. It's not that I wouldn't have let them, it's that they didn't know where to start." He shook his head to himself, gaze drifting to his new shoes for a moment. He had been taking meticulous care of them since he had first put them on; The soles were still sparkly white under the flecks of mud they had gathered while being outside now, and he made sure to frequently wash out any dirt from the grey material of the sneakers themselves.

Never having had a pair of sneakers before made him appreciate his new ones all the more.

Of course, he thought, Flash had no real idea what Jack had done for him, how much time and energy he had invested where other people had given up before they even started. As far as Ruka was aware, Flash knew absolutely nothing about who he was and why he was that way.

Maybe, sometime, he would want to find out. 

Looking at the face behind the masks for a second, Ruka found himself thinking that he'd feel more  comfortable telling this boy rather than the boy he had met outside the Slytherin Common Room all those weeks ago. 

Unexpectedly, Ruka felt a flush creeping up his chest to reach his face as Flash started to fumble with his hair, fingertips tracing his scalp, the sleeve of his sweater brushing against his skin here and there as the other boy seemed to try and fix the mess on top of Ruka's head. 

Completely taken off guard, the Gryffindor just watched Flash's face curiously as he worked his hands through Ruka's hair before continuing to clean his face off a smudge, and brushing something off his sweater. The amount of physical contact made him shiver lightly, the words about how he would look more handsome like this making his cheeks burn with a blush.

There was something about the way Flash was fussing over him, all gentle touches and curious observation, that made Ruka tense and relax almost at the same time. He wasn't used to this vast amount of physical contact, not even in the slightest and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

Sure, he enjoyed the occasional hugs he was able to steal from Jack, and the times he affectionately got his hair ruffled here and there, but this was something completely different coming from someone Ruka didn't necessarily feel like he was close enough with to be overstepping these kinds of boundaries.

Flash, however, seemed to have dropped any and all boundaries, finishing up fussing over his hair and face before taking his hand and lifting his sleeve to reveal the scars underneath. It wasn't just from burns, though those must have caught Flash's eyes first; There were little cuts from sleeping outside, in-between shrubbery at the best of days, a larger scar underneath his elbow, a memory from a dog bite when he was only six years old.

It was a collection of memories, and a part of him felt more vulnerable than ever with Flash examining them this up close, like he was trying to find a story behind every single one. The touch of gentle fingertips across scarred tissue was odd, almost verging on uncomfortable, but he couldn't bring himself to ask Flash to let go.

"What if I do?" he asked quietly, emerald eyes locking with blue ones, a melancholic spark crossing his features. "What if that's all I have left?" He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth again, not to bite down on, simply to stop it from trembling the way it was threatening to do. He knew Flash was right, knew it from the second Jack had told him to take care of himself for the month; The way he neglected taking care of the damage he mostly inflicted on himself was not healthy, not in the slightest, and yet, every burn was like a memory of his childhood and the time he had been able to spend with his dad.

Slowly, Ruka's free hand reached up to lay across the golden locket hidden beneath his sweater, fingers clutching around it through the material for a moment as if to remind himself that it was there. The only real memory of his father. The one thing he was hopeful could help him in wanting to treat his burns better from now on. 

"It's not all pain," he argued weakly, shaking his head as he let go of the locket to instead drop his hand over Flash's own as if to keep it there. For what reason he wasn't quite sure. "It's all a part of who I am. Where I come from. Why would I want to hide that?" He could feel tears welling up in his eyes, small droplets burning their way down his cheeks. "Just because it makes other people uncomfortable seeing it?"

Ruka defended Burnett, saying that other people had failed to help him, not knowing where to start. At first Flash was incredulous, but he rolled back the thought. He took care of people all the time, often at great expense to himself. At that point, it seemed he forgot that he was so different then other people. Most people would see a mess like Ruka and become uncomfortable. They might avoid him, or say a few nice things and hope that was enough. Flash could have said ‘I would have helped you’, that was the thing Ruka really wouldn’t have accepted. The more he learned about Ruka, the more he realized Burnett had really come through for him.

It was almost annoying, how he protested the word ‘friend’ so vehemently, and yet went out of his way to help get Ruka on his feet. He pushed Opeila away when she needed him most, but gave Ruka a golden locket. At least Ruka’s defense of him was starting to make more sense. It seemed Ruka just got special treatment for whatever reason. Maybe he also recognized Ruka’s intelligence. With a mind like his, it would be a shame to let it fester and rot away because the world decided to make him its victim.

Flash had a terrible habit of getting closer and closer to people without asking the important questions. He spent so much time analyzing their personality and their actions, that he often found him in the middle of a conversation with someone he knew practically nothing about. He didn’t know anything about Ruka’s life away from school, or his family, or his history. Why didn’t Ruka have shoes before? What happened that caused the episode where they first met? Instead of drilling him for personal information, Flash preferred to focus on what was right in front of them.

Ruka looked a little uneasy when Flash started to fix his look, but just like when he had fixed his tie before, he accepted it without pushing back. Flash’s touch was never careless or harmful, and it was never given before a certain amount of trust was gained. But after that one, singular hurdle was surpassed, Flash no longer knew what was too much. His entire family was very hands-on, with hugging, wrestling, and especially with fixing one’s appearance. He still hadn’t been told when to stop, but even then, the two of them were operating outside of his normal polite behavior.

In fact, they only seemed to inch closer with every word they spoke. Flash was so caught up in talking that he hadn’t realized how closely they had gravitated together. He could feel the heat off Ruka’s body, the smell of damp wool from the muggy night weather on his sweater. The blanket wrapped around him smelled like Ruka too.

But Flash was more interested in what Ruka was saying. It never occurred to him that scars could bring good memories. It was… all he had left...? Flash looked at them again, it was hard to tell how old they all were, but the amount of them seemed preposterous for a kid Ruka’s age. What kind of life did Ruka have, and why was it gone now? Why were the scars the only thing left behind?

Ruka clutched at his chest. Flash remembered the locket again, wondering what was inside of it. Suddenly he was burning for answers. The pieces of the puzzle that would make the whole picture become more clear. Interrupting his thought, Ruka placed a hand on his. The scars were part of who he was. The words meant enough to him that it caused tears to collect in his eyes, before inevitably falling, only to be replaced by more.

It seemed that in saying whatever he felt like saying, he had in no time given Ruka reason to cry. It wasn’t the reaction he had been expecting. He thought for sure Ruka would make fun of him, lose interest, or take advantage of him. Not cry. It kicked Flash into action.

With his free hand, he touched Ruka’s face again, wiping clear the line drawn by the offending tears. He knew how the cold air would only make them sting more.

”I didn’t say hide them…” Flash’ s voice was low and soft. Empathetic. ”If they’re part of you then maybe I didn’t see them clearly.”

He looked at Ruka’s arm again for good measure. Without context, they were just scars. Pain. Flash tried to see past it, where Ruka’s truth lay. Memories, hard work, growing up, surviving. When he thought of scars, he thought of what happened to Willow, what was inflicted upon her. They didn’t have to be inflicted though, sometimes life left a scar that was precious.

Flash looked back, his hand had rested on the side of Ruka’s face, thumb by his ear holding his neck, as if supporting it.

”If that's how you feel, I shall learn to love them."

@Ruka Tân

@Flash Holmwood

Flash didn't seem to indulge in Ruka's protest about how people had wanted to help him but failed. Maybe it was because he didn't believe that to be true, or maybe he just didn't know how to argue that statement without knowing what help really entailed in Ruka's case.

It had to be dawning to the other boy, that there was a reason for Ruka's messed up exterior as well as his messed up state of mind that he hadn't bothered to look into yet. With how meticulous Flash seemed to be about his own appearance, he must have taken one look at Ruka and considered him a lost cause without trying to dig beneath what he could see on the surface. 
With how much Flash had looked at him like he was nothing but a means to an end, back in the courtyard, Ruka doubted that he'd considered him as a real person for long enough to do more than vaguely consider that there was more going on than what met the eye.

Letting himself be fussed over, Ruka became acutely aware of the way they were slowly moving closer to each other without really meaning to. A small shuffle here, readjusting their positions there, leaning into this touch and avoiding another, and suddenly it seemed like there was barely any space between them anymore, and Flash was still holding onto his hand like there was something precious and valuable etched into its skin.

His own free hand still rested on top of Flash's and for a moment he remembered the way Jack had been holding onto his hand by the pool the day before, remembered the reassuring squeezes every once in a while, the way he'd held on when Ruka had wanted to leave, as if silently begging him to stay.
It made him give a small squeeze to Flash's hand as well, as if to look for that same kind of comfort in the touch, the same kind of warmth.

All he could feel was a knot forming somewhere above his stomach.

He could feel the tears dripping down his cheeks against his will, no matter how much he tried to force them away again. Sparkling green eyes turned light from his tears, as he locked his gaze with Flash. 
When the hand came up to wipe at his cheeks, Ruka expected to flinch away, but instead he remained exactly as he was, lips slightly parted, eyes wide and red-rimmed, hand squeezing Flash's.

His body was frozen on the spot as he just watched the other boy's face like he could find answers to questions he hadn't thought of yet in it. Vaguely he remembered feeling like this when Selim had lifted that sword up to his neck; That feeling of being supposed to want to run away but being too tired to fight it. He didn't know why Flash was this close, why he was seeking out this much skin on skin contact, but a part of him wanted to lean into the touch, wanted to revel in the comfort of someone being this close and wiping his tears away.

His eyelids fell shut for a moment as he let quiet sobs wreck his body, all those emotions he had avoided dealing with rushing through him at once. There was still the feel of Flash's fingertips on his scars as he leaned his cheeks against the hand steadying it, like the physical contact might be enough to make him feel less like he wasn't supposed to be here, like it was a way for him to tie himself back to the ground while the world was trying to shake him off so vehemently.

It stung his heart in an unexpected manner as he realised how foreign physical affection really was to him. Where his dad had tried to give him as much comfort as possible, their life had been rough and cruel and cold at times, and no amount of hugs and bedtime stories could ever really make up for that. Ruka knew his dad had always tried to do his best in raising his son, but that didn't mean he was flawless, and if there was one thing he had failed at it was surely wiping Ruka's tears away during long, cold nights.

It wasn't really until Jack that Ruka had found comfort in touch, rather than an instinctual need to pull away. He'd clung to it, probably more than was healthy, like every hug was filling him with life where there had been nothing but emptiness before, every squeeze to his hand or shoulder was giving him the strength to go through his day without the need to cry. 

This, Flash's hand steadying his neck, was something different, something too intimate, too raw with someone Ruka had had all but one real conversation with before. It was a strange mix of comfort and discomfort that he didn't know what to do with. Pull away from the touch? Let himself sink into it? Neither option seemed right somehow.

Flash's last words did nothing to help his confusion. The other boy's words sounded so sincere, so open and honest, like he was more than willing to learn to know and love even the scars scattered across his skin. It should have meant so much, Ruka found himself thinking, should have filled him with such warmth and affection to be considered important enough to be loved for every part of himself, no matter which way, but there was this nagging in the back of his head.

This voice, reminding him that Flash had no idea what he was saying, didn't have any idea who Ruka was and what those scars meant to him. He was simply doing what he was so good at; Providing comfort, letting Ruka lean on him in times of need. This time, maybe, it wasn't to get anything out of him, but it surely wasn't coming from a place of genuine affection either.

Blinking his eyes open again, he could see Flash's face, too close to his own, blue eyes still rimmed with red irritation, face unmasked like Ruka hadn't seen it before. He wanted to cry out, wanted to thrash about, pull away, run from whatever it was that made him feel so severely on edge. 

Instead, he found himself moving his hand from the other boy's to clasp around the back of his neck, tilting his head up just enough to lay his own rough, chapped lips on Flash's.