Faux Flowers Errand PV Kazuo Closed

@Kazuo Shimada

T O P

J E A N S

Ruka could have slapped himself when Kazuo came up with a good word to explain what he'd been trying to say about the teashop. "Yeah," he said, shaking his head at himself. "Like tacky." At least his comparison to someone's grandparents' storage room had made Kazuo chuckle so that was a win. "I like green tea," he stated, thoughts immediately flashing back to when he had made the tea bags for himself and Jack at that errand about a year ago. Green tea for himself and a slightly butchered black tea and spices mix for Jack. He hadn't gotten to drink much of it. "But I don't think... I don't think I know what matcha or sencha is." It still felt like he was supposed to know most of this stuff at least, but Kazuo was patient in explaining things to him, and Ruka couldn't have been more grateful.

That was why it was all the more surprising to him when the other boy suddenly stopped, face slightly flushed, as if he hadn't quite realised for how long he had been talking about tea. His apology was quickly dismissed with a wave of Ruka's hand. "I did," he said quickly, firmly. "I wouldn't have asked otherwise. I don't... Lot's of stuff is interesting to me." He shrugged his shoulders lightly. "I'd stop you if I didn't want to hear about it." A smile on his face, Ruka was almost tempted to reach over and pat Kazuo's shoulder, but he pulled himself back. Maybe it'd be good for him to just not touch people for a while.

Following Kazuo's gaze to the scurrying beetle, Ruka found himself laughing at the other boy's antics. "A tempting offer," he admitted with a bright grin. "I'll spare you detention, because you're really selling those lemon tarts." His grin smoothed into something gentler when Kazuo agreed to taking him along to Hogsmeade next time. He'd have to make sure to put aside those two sickles.

That Ruka would try and apply what little understanding he had of Kazuo's beliefs to what they were doing right now put a small smile on the other boy's face, and it made Ruka's features brighten. He was glad to know that their plant pulling wasn't majorly disruptive to the balance of things, liked the thought that the spirits of pulled plants would be reborn. "Are our spirits reborn?" he asked quietly, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment and looking at the ground, staring at one of the holes he had dug. Before his thoughts could wander too far, he searched for eye contact with the other boy once more, head tilted to the side questioningly. "Transfiguration?" he asked. "Like turning living things into inanimate objects?" He frowned a bit at the thought. "I don't like that. Feels a bit too much like playing God." Halting an animal's life, turning it into something arguably more useful, changing its form for people's convenience. There had always been something wrong about that to him.

Moving on from the seriousness of that, Ruka found himself laughing at Kazuo's demands, though he nodded. "A lemon tart per trip. That can be arranged," he agreed, shaking the other boy's hand just as aggressively. It felt good, he had to admit, to be talking like this; This comfortably. He'd found Kazuo easy to talk to from the start, and there was something comforting in the fact that that hadn't changed.

"I've never really understood it," he admitted quietly, though there was still a trace of laughter on his face from the image of policemen calling everyone else no-cops. "The blood thing. It's not like you can see someone's type of blood. Not like it determines the strength of your magic either. Both of Jack's parents are muggles but he knows Charms I've barely even read of yet." He shrugged his shoulders lightly. "Some of us have a skill, or a talent, and some of us don't, right? Doesn't make us any better or worse than anybody else." He smiled and tilted his head back to look at a couple of passing clouds for a moment. "It's all about how you use the skills you've got. People just like compartmentalising everything, I suppose. Helps them feel like the world is less complex and they have a better understanding of everything." Seemed like people always wanted to feel like they were an expert on everything, so robbing things of their complexity by tossing them into boxes made them feel more comfortable. Ruka didn't really feel like subscribing to that way of thinking.

"I'm not really talking about love," Ruka pointed out, shaking his head with a small grimace. "I just mean... People trying to date, figuring out what they like and don't like, exploring their emotions even if they fool themselves into thinking they're experiencing feelings they don't actually have... I don't know, I think I get it." Not really of course, but as an abstract concept he thought he might understand what the appeal was. He could still hear himself telling Professor Jensen that he was only twelve when she had told him to give the flowers she'd handed him to someone he liked. Though, had he not already stolen someone's first kiss by then? Had he not already started struggling with things like attraction and intimacy? "I think sometimes kids need to play-pretend to figure out what's real." Kids, like he wasn't one of them. Still, he could understand Kazuo's approach of building friendships rather than relationships, opting for something that had a bigger chance of being real and long-lasting, so he nodded along to his words, snorting ungracefully when Kazuo declared girls crazy when it came to dating. "Can't argue with that," he decided. "I'd imagine boys to be much the same, though." He definitely remembered Rafa almost drowning him in the fountain upon finding out that he had kissed Flash. Romantic feelings seemed to drive everyone insane.

With Kazuo's attention fully focused on him, Ruka almost felt like he was being interviewed, but on the other hand he appreciated that the other boy would focus on him rather than dividing his attention otherwise.
What the other boy had thought of Ruka's kissing habits, he didn't elaborate on, but Ruka assumed he'd been under the impression that he may have actually been attracted to Winnie and Flash. The reasoning he gave seemed to throw Kazuo for a momentary loop, which was understandable. Ruka couldn't make much sense of it either. However, the other boy recovered quickly to ask about the fact that Ruka became panicked over physical proximity. This wasn't exactly something anybody had ever asked him and he had never volunteered the information either, but with Kazuo taking such intense interest in his problems, he couldn't bring himself to not be open about it.

With a deep breath, Ruka folded his jacket on his lap, mostly to preoccupy himself from the mess in his own head. "What do I think of them?" he repeated, a small frown creasing his forehead. "I think they're lonely. And I think they don't know how to connect with anyone around them. I guess I know how that feels."

Once again Ruka reassured him that his ramblings were not unwanted and though it didn’t completely banish the self-consciousness, it did at least ease some of his embarrassment. He gave Ruka a slight smile as he continued, answering the older boy’s not-quite question. “Most people outside Japan probably don’t know what matcha and sencha are unless they’re really into tea. I suppose matcha has become more popular outside of Japan, thanks to Starbucks. Sencha is the type of green tea we produce in Japan for steeping. Matcha is powdered and instead of steeping it like the leaves, you just mix it into hot water or milk.” His expression turned thoughtful and perhaps a bit affectionate. “I only know as much as I do about tea because I had to learn to perform the chado - the tea ceremony. But I didn’t know just how many different types of tea there were until I came here.”

Kazuo grinned back at Ruka when he accepted the bribe, excited to have company on his next visit. The grin turned serious when Ruka asked a very serious question. He wasn’t surprised that Ruka would ask it, all things considered, and he had no doubt that he knew what Ruka was thinking of when he asked. “Yes, usually. Eventually. Reincarnation is a core belief. Everything is cyclical and transformative.” He paused, studying Ruka quietly for a moment as if searching for something, some sign that his next question would not be rebuffed. He didn’t think it would be, based on previous conversation but one could never be sure. “Do you believe in anything? Or follow any religion?” He had spent a lot of time talking about his beliefs yet knew nothing of Ruka’s and that made him curious.

Kazuo nodded slowly in response to Ruka’s accurate guess at his meaning when he referred to Transfiguration. “Not everything we do is disruptive. Coloring your hair or changing inanimate objects or even shape changing like metamorphs or animagi. But when you begin playing with living creatures, where does the line lay? If I turn a cat into a cauldron, is the cat’s spirit in the cauldron? Does that make the cauldron alive? Does it change the nature of the spirit? Can you change the nature of a spirit? Worse yet, does such an act corrupt the spirit? It seems arrogant for us to assume that animals don’t have souls like we believe humans do. That we can simply do with them whatever we please without considering consequences.” He frowned as he considered the entire debate. “I think transfiguration is very useful but I think our understanding of its effects and consequences is far too limited.”

He laughed when Ruka met his handshake with an equally aggressive response and continued to smile when his no-cop comparison was received with amusement. “It’s power.” He contributed his answer plainly because to him it really was that simple, even if the answer wasn’t entirely as simple as it sounded. “Implied superiority that is indoctrinated into society. Children who are raised to believe that their lineage makes them superior to continue the bigoted power structure. Muggleborns are treated as less than and because of the Statute, they have no reason to believe other than what they are told. So even though they aren’t lesser, their connection to the magical world is reliant on falling in line within the power structure.” He tracked Ruka’s line of sight, also gazing up at the bright blue expanse above them. “Wizard society isn’t the only one that does it. Plenty of examples in the muggle world. If you ask me, the Statute was just another power play.”

Kazuo shifted his gaze back to Ruka then shrugged. “I don’t understand it. I think I can explore my feelings or likes and dislikes quite fine without having to play pretend with something as tragical as romance.” He admitted with honesty. When Ruka pointed out that boys were also crazy it made him think of Mic and Percy and he gave a slow nod of acknowledgement. “Maybe. Maybe you have to be a little bit crazy to date in the first palace.” He added with a snicker.

Kazuo watched as Ruka removed his jacket, head tilting slightly in curiosity at this decision. As Ruka spoke, he once again fell silent, giving the older boy his complete attention. The words were not pretty, the story they told tugged a frown onto Kazuo’s face as his eyes flitted from one scar to the next. So many scars for a child to have. The fire dancing ones struck him as meaningful - there was pain but it was in pursuit of something beautiful. But the people-scars, those were just sad. As Ruka tugged down the collar of his shirt to reveal the scar in his chest, Kazuo felt a strange urge to reach out and touch them which, given the entire subject of their conversation, was probably a terrible idea. He resisted the urge by drawing his knees up and wrapping his arms around them as he continued to listen to Ruka’s explanation.

“I think I understand.” He replied slowly, working through the information Ruka had given him. “You don’t trust people not to hurt you so when anyone gets close, your first reaction is defensive. Completely understandable. I think… This is the harder part to understand but I think the kissing is a distraction. People aren’t usually thinking about hurting the person they are kissing. So when you panic, you do something that you think will make you less of a target. But Ruka… have you ever told anyone that you don’t like being touched? Or that you need your personal space to be respected? That probably sounds weird to you…” He frowned a bit. “Personal space is a big deal in Japan. You don’t just touch people you don’t know. Maybe that makes me more aware of peoples’ boundaries. I have a hard time dealing with how physically affectionate people seem to be here so I can kind of understand where you’re coming from. I think you need to set boundaries with people and tell them when they are making you uncomfortable. Then he gave Ruka a teasing smirk. “Also… maybe work on that panic response before you give anyone else the wrong idea. But I think to do that, you’d have to let someone touch you.”

He considered Ruka’s responses about Flash and Puppygirl then sighed a bit. “Sounds like you pity them.” He observed, giving Ruka a considering look. “And it sounds like you feel lonely too.”

Reducio

OOTD

@Ruka Burnett-Tân

@Kazuo Shimada

T O P

J E A N S

A wave of relief washed over Ruka when Kazuo pointed out that most people outside of Japan wouldn't necessarily know about matcha and sencha. Good, he wasn't an idiot then. Listening intently, he found himself frowning a bit as he tried to imagine the difference between the two things. "It's powder?" he asked, lips parting as he poked his tongue out a bit as if to try and imagine what the texture would feel like against his tastebuds. "Wouldn't that be... a bit powdery?" He couldn't quite imagine using powder to make tea with. "I mean... The texture. Wouldn't it have a weird texture?"

There was a slight shift in Kazuo's expression that made Ruka lean forward a bit with even more interest when he talked about the tea ceremony. "Chado," he repeated carefully as if to try how the word felt in his mouth, then tilted his head to the side to look at the other boy. "There's a ceremony for tea? How does that work? When would you hold it?" It seemed like it was something that held meaning to Kazuo so Ruka felt like he was allowed to ask about it. Maybe it would also help the other boy to understand that he could talk to his heart's content without having to doubt Ruka's interest in what he was saying.

When Kazuo's expression turned more serious at being asked about spirits, Ruka hugged his knees a little closer to his chest. He hummed thoughtfully at the idea that every spirit would eventually be reborn. He liked the thought of that, that things didn't just vanish but would rather be born anew, like a Phoenix rising from the ashes. It was comforting somehow. "I..." He struggled for a moment at Kazuo's question. Somehow the other boy seemed to have a knack for asking him questions he had never been asked before and it took him a moment to come up with the right answer. "Not really, I suppose. My dad used to tell a lot of stories; Irish Folklore, Greek Mythology, bits and pieces from all over, you know?" He smiled somewhat fondly at the memory. "But I've never really followed... a specific belief." He hesitated for a moment, longing for something to share with Kazuo after the other boy had been so open about his own beliefs. "I, uhm... There's this tree. Sceach Gheal. Hawthorne. It's sacred in Ireland." He smiled, leaning back comfortably. "They say when you cut it it smells like death, but." He stopped for a second, cheeks flushing. "They also say it's home to the fairies." He didn't know what kind of fairies exactly; Coming to Hogwarts had taught him so much about magical creatures that some of the stories he'd heard about them when he was still a child didn't make much sense anymore now. He lowered his gaze and took a deep breath, voice going quiet as he added: “Jack’s wand is made of a type of Hawthorne.” Not that it was relevant, but the coincidence still made him smile.

Looking up again, Ruka found himself nodding along with Kazuo’s words about Transfiguration and the ways it could be seen as something disruptive to the balance of nature. “We are arrogant,” he decided mournfully. “Humans, I mean. We think we’re so above every other species in the world.” He couldn’t really understand it; He’d seen enough animals growing up, had watched their behaviour, the smart ways they used to achieve whatever they wanted or needed, the way they would play with each other and work together. How could anybody act like animals didn’t have a soul that needed to be respected just as much as that of any human?

It filtered in nicely into what Kazuo was saying about blood status and power. Humans were so arrogant that they even strived for separation among each other. “It’s disgusting,” he contributed with a grimace, lifting a hand to dishevel his hair a bit more than it already had been before. “You’d think people would learn from their mistakes. It’s not like that line of thinking hasn’t already inspired multiple wars and conflicts.” He tilted his head to the side, let his gaze drift from the sun back to Kazuo. “If not determined by blood status then,” he said with a little smile. “Who should really have the power? The Charming?” He poked his tongue out playfully, though his features were still rather serious. He had had various arguments about the segregation between Muggles, and Witches and Wizards, but none that focused on the different boxes they were wedged into even within their own world. For a second he felt urged to reach out and trace the veins along Kazuo’s wrists to see if he could make out a difference between them and his own, but he resisted.

Instead he tore his gaze away again and laughed lightly at Kazuo’s opinion on exploring romantic relationships. “Well not everyone is fortunate enough to be as in tune with their emotions as you,” he pointed out with a grin as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Some of us have to learn by trial and error.” He purposely crossed his eyes and pressed the back of his hand against his forehead in a dramatic gesture. “We’re all mad here,” he announced in a slightly more high pitched voice at Kazuo’s observation that one had to be a little crazy to date, before stifling his laughter behind the hand he had just rested against his forehead.

Ruka couldn’t say he had thought much about his own panic reaction beyond the fact that it was taking something away from someone who hadn’t consented to him claiming it, but the way Kazuo put it made more sense than he could have ever tried to find in it himself. He could remember the feeling of relief that had washed over him when he had kissed Winnie, knowing that no matter what else, at least this kind of touch - the one he had initiated himself - was a comforting one.

“Jack knows,” he said quietly, shrugging his shoulders. “But I don’t think he really understands. He thought it was silly that I made a big deal out of kissing Flash. He doesn’t… I think he doesn’t understand why other people touching me feels different than him touching me.” He took a rattling breath as he tried to ban the bitterness from his voice. “He lets me come to him for… physical affection, I guess. Mostly. I know he won’t hurt me. Not physically at least.” Emotionally, that was another topic. “And Flash… He knows now too. Too late, I suppose, but he knows. I just…” he pressed his lips together and shook his head. “At what point is it… Sometimes I don’t realise when touch turns from vaguely uncomfortable into something I can’t handle. I don’t want to greet people by saying Please don’t touch me, so when is it the right time to bring it up?” He shrugged a little helplessly, then pulled his features into a frown when Kazuo mentioned how personal boundaries were a big deal in Japan. Instantly, Ruka thought of the way he had leaned against the other boy at the Animagus club meeting, a rare moment of physical comfort Ruka had given into. Had that been overstepping boundaries?

He met Kazuo’s smirk with a tired smile. “What, like exposure therapy?” he asked with a shaky laugh. “I’m Ruka, would you mind coming closer so I can get used to touch?” His voice had gone high pitched again as he mimicked his own fake introduction. “Actually, that might be a good way to get people to not touch me.” A vaguely amused chuckle escaped him as he put his folded jacket to the side and leaned forward again to look at Kazuo thoughtfully.

“I do,” he said easily when Kazuo pointed out that it sounded like he pitied Flash and Winnie. “And I hate it. Pity is useless.” He would know, he had gotten plenty of it over time. “It’s like… watching a baby bird that fell out of its nest. You can’t put it back up because it might get cast out by its mother for smelling like you, so you just have to watch and hope it makes it anyway.” He hugged his knees a little closer, squeezing his arms tightly around them. The observation that it seemed like Ruka himself was lonely was met with a chuckle. “Aren’t we all, in a way?” he asked with a small shrug. “It’s a huge Castle, isn’t it? People everywhere you go. I’m almost never alone and I’ve still never felt quite so lonely before.” The left corner of his mouth pulled into a lopsided grin. “I suppose it depends on what you define lonely as, too. When I say lonely, I just mean… I’ve never before realised how hard a time I have connecting to people. It’s isolating, I suppose.” He grabbed for his shovel and flicked a piece of soil in the direction of the lake. Then he cast Kazuo a little smile. “It’s getting better, though.”

Ruka’s questions about matcha were amusing to Kazuo, mostly because he’d heard them often enough from people who didn’t understand how matcha was prepared. He nodded slowly. “If it’s made improperly, it can be powdery. You should never mix matcha powder with cold water, for example, or it will be clumpy or grainy. If you think of it the same way you think of adding sugar to your tea, the way it dissolves in hot water, then the texture isn’t a problem.” He chuckled when Ruka asked how the tea ceremony worked, the assumption that it was something rare. So many parts of Kazuo’s upbringing and daily life involved ceremonies and rituals that it was funny to him when people assumed they were only for special occasions. He looked at the ground then smoothed out a flat part in the dirt. Grabbing a twig, he attempted to carve a kanji into the dirt.

“This means…” He paused, thinking of how to explain the concept. “‘Do’ means a way of doing something. Or an art. It’s like… you can make tea by pouring hot water in a cup but there’s no thought to it. We apply this concept - do - to a lot of normal, daily tasks. Like shudo, the art of writing. Or kyudo and kendo. Well maybe those two are less daily life…” He chuckled again then shrugged. “The tea ceremony is pretty common still. The ceremony part is more about reflection. Appreciation and thoughtful conversation. Tea ceremonies are often held in some form for many reasons. Business meetings, formal introductions or even just between friends.” He shrugged again. “It’s not as common as it used to be but it’s not something that is only done once a year or anything like that.” He drew a circle around the kanji absently then looked up with a smile. “If you are interested, I could do it for you some time.”

Once again Ruka seemed to hesitate at his questions and he couldn’t help the smile that crept across his face. He always found delight in asking questions that provoked thought in people, in catching them off guard. With Ruka it wasn’t just the asking he enjoyed. It was also the obvious thought Ruka gave to his answers. Ruka never gave him answers that were easy-outs and that made their conversations much more interesting. “Folktales?” He perked up at mention of Irish and Greek mythology. “Fascinating. Hawthorn?” The name of the tree gave him pause. He’d spent far too much time looking into plants recently and that one sounded familiar. “A fairy tree? That sounds amazing. You mean like those proper Irish faeries? Not the little buglike things we learned about, right?” He paused, turning to stare up at a nearby tree. “I suppose if he believed in those legends, they would protect him, wouldn’t they?” He mused thoughtfully. “Oh! Hawthorn was dedicated to Hymenaeus! The Greek god of marriage!” He added as an afterthought as his mind finally made the connection of where he remembered the tree from. “Doesn’t hawthorn make for a contradictory wand? I think… they are good for healing?” Kazuo's brow furrowed as he considered Jack and the hawthorn wand. “A contradictory wand for a contradictory person.” He added with a laugh.

He nodded along as Ruka seemed to agree with him about the arrogant nature of humanity. Though where he saw it as simply a part of what makes humans different, Ruka seemed to disapprove. He supposed anyone with a fraction of empathy who lived on the wrong side of the power divide would disapprove. He was, through luck of birth, on the side that provided the privilege of being able to examine it neutrally. “I think a part of human nature is to seek out conflict.” He observed quietly. He had no proof, of course, for this theory but even Ruka’s statement about war and conflict echoed it. “I think as much as we say otherwise, that there is part of us that desires it. We are more capable of achieving a peaceful existence than any other being on this planet through our cleverness. Yet we continue to fall back to behaviours that drive us apart. It’s… fascinating…” He admitted with a smirk. “I think..." He paused then, growing cautious as he realized that his opinions may not be welcome. “I think that there are many better ways to govern than a rigid system based on a legacy of nepotism and inbreeding.” He stuck out his tongue. “Imagine a proper council. A democratic structure. Or a structure based on actual merit. Like you can’t be a Minister of whatever department if you don’t have experience in it. Or imagine a world where the line between magic and mundane doesn’t exist.” He added the last thought hesitantly, knowing it was controversial. “Imagine a world where there was no need to hide what we are.”

Kazuo blinked at Ruka as the older boy pointed out that he was in tune with his emotions. He wasn’t so sure about that anymore though he supposed he might be more in tune than many of the other kids his age. Yet lately he had been struggling with his feelings things he had once been certain of shifting unexpectedly. “I am not…” He began, a bit flustered by the conversation. “I’m not opposed to trial and error. I am opposed to the fakeness of most of it. I think the concept of romance and love is played up so much to us, with all these unrealistic expectations of what it is supposed to be that I don’t think you can figure out the truth by playing the weird courting games you’re expected to play.” He watched Ruka’s dramatic gesture, smiling a bit. “Are you the Cheshire cat now? Does that make me a lost Alice?” He replied, sticking out his tongue in return.

As they returned to the topic of Ruka’s particular struggles with emotions Kazuo nodded. “Jack… I don’t think he would understand. It seems to me that Jack grew up with that kind of physical closeness being natural and not something to be concerned about when it comes to strangers.” Kazuo hummed thoughtfully, considering Ruka’s response. He shook his head then, tone firm when he responded. “Vaguely uncomfortable is still uncomfortable and no one has the right to make you feel that way. If that means putting your hands up or stepping away from someone when they decide to get in your personal space, then do it.” Kazuo twirled the twig he had picked up absently as he spoke. “When I was little, I mean like walking and talking little, not a baby… My Mom and Dad never just hugged me or picked me up. Both of them would simply make the offer. They would hold their arms out and left it to me to choose whether I wanted it or not.” He frowned as he looked at Ruka. “Maybe there’s no good time to tell someone. But I think if you are uncomfortable, even a little bit, you should say so. If it makes them uncomfortable, I think it’s on them to consider their behaviour. No one is entitled to your physical affection. And if speaking it aloud is a problem for you then practice your resting bitch face.” He added the last part with a teasing grin.

He laughed at Ruka’s mock introduction. “Yes, that’s great. Do that with everyone you meet.” He replied with a smirk. “You’ll be the most popular boy in Hogwarts in no time. Seriously, though, I meant starting with people you are comfortable with or levels of touch that don’t make you uncomfortable. Set boundaries and work within them until you grow more comfortable. Then try with people that are not close but aren’t complete strangers either. Although to do that, I think you’ll have to think about what makes you uncomfortable. Does a handshake make you uncomfortable? Or is it only closer things like hugs?” Kazuo paused, considering his suggestions. He didn’t really know if any of it would help. It wasn’t as if he was any better than Ruka. He didn’t panic kiss people but his aversion to physical touch was often awkwardly noticeable. “Be the one to initiate. It’s easier right? When you’re in control?”

Kazuo shifted, uncurling and moving to a kneeling position. He held out his hands, palms up, an invitation to be taken or refused as Ruka saw fit. “Pity is useless. Don’t pity them. Either take the risk of helping them or walk away. They are not baby birds and they both have the same potential to grow and change as you and I. And you…” Kazuo gave Ruka an amused smile. “I think maybe you don’t realize how many people are drawn to you. Are you sure it isn’t that you only want to connect to people who are worthwhile? Charming people instead of tedious ones?” He teased with a wink.

@Ruka Burnett-Tân

@Kazuo Shimada

T O P

J E A N S

With a thoughtful hum, Ruka nodded along to Kazuo’s words about matcha. It made sense, he supposed. The powder would melt into the hot liquid just like sugar would as well. Though, he didn’t exactly know much about that considering how little he enjoyed sugar in his tea. He idly wondered if sugar was something considered essential when it came to tea in Japan, but for the moment it didn’t seem like an important enough question to voice out loud.

Instead, he watched with interest as Kazuo drew a symbol on the ground, something he had seen before in a similar form, but didn’t understand at all. Lines that formed a picture, more than a word, and yet it had a specific meaning. A complex letter of sorts, a syllable even, judging by what the other boy was saying. Ruka traced the lines with a curious fingertip, tilting his head to the side as he stared at it as if trying to memorise every break and curve. “I’d love that,” he said sincerely, looking back up at Kazuo with a smile when he offered to do a tea ceremony for Ruka at some point. “Will I have to bring anything? Or wear anything specific?” He wasn’t sure exactly how traditions worked, what he needed to consider, so it was probably better to ask too many questions rather than too few.

“How do these work?” he added to his pile of questions, looking down at the kanji in the ground. “I mean, they’re like… letters in a way, right? How do you read them? It seems so complicated…” It probably wasn’t, to someone who had grown up with it, someone who may have learned them the same way kids learned the alphabet.

Smile widening, Ruka nodded with renewed enthusiasm when Kazuo repeated the word Folktales. He had always been fond of all sorts of stories, adventures to lose himself in whenever he had felt sad or frightened. “Do you know of any?” he asked curiously. He, himself, had his own favourite stories, but he doubted they were well known enough to have been made popular all the way in Japan, or even around Hogwarts. Stories people told each other by a bonfire, carried from person to person… Who knew how far spoken word could really travel.

A small giggle escaped Ruka as Kazuo questioned which type of fairies were said to be housed by the Hawthorn tree. “I assume so, but I’m not sure,” he admitted a little regretfully. “Learning about magical creatures here has really made me doubt how much of the stories Muggles tell each other is true, and how much is just their imagination.” He hummed quietly. “I hope so. Wouldn’t want the fairies to be angry about his presence.” With a chuckle, Ruka leaned back a bit, watching as Kazuo came to a realisation about the tree they were talking of. Nodding in confirmation, Ruka straightened up, eyes lit brightly. “It’s considered a tree of love in other places. My dad said in Ancient Greece, brides would wear crowns made of its wood. They also used it for wedding torches. In some places you’re supposed to hang Hawthorn branches over your door for blessings. In Ireland they think it’s bad luck to cut its branches, that it upsets the fairies. Contradictory, indeed.” He grinned, clearly enthralled by the topic, and let out a small laugh to blend with the other boy’s when Kazuo commented on Jack being a contradictory person as well. “The wand does choose the wizard,” he pointed out.

Falling back into a more serious state again, Ruka listened thoughtfully to Kazuo’s words about people naturally seeking conflict. He could agree with that, it seemed like something that was only emphasised in any of the History books Jack liked to flick through whenever he got the chance. “Do you think…” He waited for a second as he tried to gather his thoughts. It didn’t feel like he was in any way qualified to form opinions on the matter, but he couldn’t help forming them anyway. “Do you think it’s for the sake of progress? Evolution? Without conflict we might grow complacent, and might be less motivated to move forward. We constantly feel like we have to be evolving, and we’re most likely to put effort into it when we feel like we have to in order to make things better.” It was the only way he could explain people’s need for conflict in any way that made sense at least.

Kazuo’s thoughts on governments made Ruka’s head spin a little; It wasn’t that he had no interest in what the other boy thought about the matter, but rather that Ruka didn’t understand nearly enough about politics to really imagine much under any of the terms thrown at him. What did make sense to him was the thought about witches and wizards being able to live in a world where there was no need to hide who and what they were; Something he had pondered many times before as well. “Wouldn’t that be nice,” he said with a faint smile. “If only people weren’t afraid of things that are different, maybe considered more powerful than them. If we were all able to work together…” He chuckled and shook his head. “Most people are barely able to get through a group project without starting a war.” That was that. Ruka had little to no hope that humans, as a species, were really capable of building a future for everyone, together.

As their conversation moved to relationships and the way people were exploring the concepts of love, Kazuo seemed to grow tense in a way. Ruka wasn’t quite sure if there was discomfort there, but he decided to trust that the other boy wouldn’t be continuing the conversation if he didn’t feel like it. “What is it to you, then?” he dared to ask. Not a question he would have just asked anybody; He wasn’t even sure it was appropriate to address it. “Love and romance. If you take away all the fakeness and the expectations. You think it doesn’t really exist at all?” Not a thought Ruka personally wanted to entertain, but he was curious about the way Kazuo’s mind worked, and the way the boy had been talking so far showed a vast amount of cynicism Ruka wanted to get to the bottom of.

A chuckle escaped him as he shook his head when Kazuo asked if Ruka’s Cheshire impression made him Alice. “I was thinking more of the Caterpillar,” he corrected with a smile, giggling quietly at the image of Kazuo as a hookah smoking caterpillar. Straightforward and prone to asking difficult questions. The thought made him smile.

The smile, however, slipped away quite quickly again when their conversation turned to Ruka’s struggles with touch. He found himself nodding quietly at Kazuo’s observation that Jack would naturally have less of an understanding for his aversions due to his upbringing. “His parents are quite physically affectionate,” he agreed, thinking of the way Mrs Burnett tended to fondly stroke his hair and hug him close whenever there was even the slightest reason to. It was no wonder, really, that Jack wouldn’t understand if he had hardly known anything else. Some of the resentment inside him slowly ebbed away.

The other boy’s following words were something that took Ruka off guard for a moment. It wasn’t like he was talking of a far fetched concept, but he had never really been made aware of the fact that he was allowed to refuse people physical affection, that he didn’t owe it to anybody. “I thought my resting bitch face was pretty good already,” he pointed out, pulling his features into an exaggerated frown. “But apparently not good enough.” Clearly not, if strangers still felt the urge to hug him sometimes. Kazuo’s suggestion to start with people he was comfortable with and then move forward from there made sense, and Ruka thought it was something he had already tried to practice in some way. Maybe, combined with telling others when he felt uncomfortable, that could actually help. “Yeah,” he confirmed when Kazuo mentioned that it would feel easier when Ruka was the one in control of touch. “I suppose… It depends on how I feel. When I’m nervous even a handshake can feel intense. It is always easier when I’m in control, though.” He smiled lightly, watching in vague confusion how Kazuo shuffled onto his knees and held his hands out as if offering them to Ruka somehow.

Unsure how to respond to the gesture, Ruka took a while to merely stare at the palms of Kazuo’s hands, the veins shimmering under the pale skin of his wrists. Carefully, Ruka slid a little closer, knees falling to the side as he placed his own hands on top of Kazuo’s, fingertips curiously brushing against the other boy’s palms. This wasn’t uncomfortable. On the contrary, the touch almost put him at ease.

“To figure out how to help them I have to stick around,” he pointed out, gaze focused on his own hands lying atop of Kazuo’s for the moment. “Until I know how to do that I don’t have much except pity left. Except, I don’t think I’m so great at figuring out how to help. I just seem to make things worse.” Maybe walking away was the better option. If only he could really stop himself from caring.

Kazuo’s words about him drawing people in made Ruka look up again with a small frown on his face. “Well, that’s a given,” he said with a laugh. “Seems like I mostly draw in tedious ones. There are so few charming people out there.” He chuckled and slowly, a bit more confidently, slid forward to be able to curl his fingers around Kazuo’s wrists to give them a gentle squeeze before he let go again to simply let his hands rest on top of the other’s once more. “Can you blame me for feeling a bit lonely in a world where so few people are really worthwhile?”

Kazuo watched Ruka trace the kanji he had written, smiling at the way the older boy seemed to stare at it with fascination. It gave him an idea, something he could do for Ruka, perhaps for a birthday or Christmas or some such excuse to give people things. Ruka's question caused his smile to broaden into a smirk. "I suppose that depends on how formal and traditional a tea ceremony you want to experience." He replied with mischief sparkling in his eyes. His offer had merely been to prepare the tea traditionally but Ruka's question now presented him with the potential to play dress up, not unlike what he had done to Hana not very long ago. He wondered briefly if the snake was still mad at him for the bathroom ambush. Kazuo had a feeling Ruka would be much more amenable to wardrobe shenanigans than Hana had been.

He glanced back down at the kanji as Ruka asked how they worked. He chuckled and shrugged. "How does the English alphabet work?" He asked with a snort, unknowingly echoing Ruka's thoughts. "On a basic level, instead of single consonant sounds, we have pairings. So there are five hiragana for the sounds 'a', 'i', 'u', 'e', 'o'. And all other hiragana is combining those vowels sounds with various consonants. Hiragana is our phonetic alphabet." He pronounced the vowels differently from their default English sounds, sounding out as 'ah', 'ih', 'oo', 'eh', 'oh'. “It isn’t that different from learning English. But this…” He indicated the kanji. “Is kanji and it’s mostly memorization. It’s a... “ He paused, brow furrowing in thought as he searched for the words to describe it. “Pictographic?” He finally settled on the best word he could think of to compare it to. “Kanji aren’t phonetic at all. They represent a word or an idea. Sometimes the flow of the kanji matches the concept it is meant to represent visually. Like fire…” He briefly let go of one of Ruka’s hands to pull a brush-tip pen out of his pocket and remove the lid with his teeth. Then, with a grin and a light squeeze of the hand he still held, he drew the kanji for fire on the back of Ruka’s hand.

“You see? It looks like a flame. Language classes for us involve a lot of memorization but I think it must be near impossible to learn every kanji. It would be like trying to memorize the entire English dictionary. Compared to other languages, it is complicated. We use a mixture of three different written forms and kanji is the worst of them.” He capped the pen and tucked it behind his ear, giving Ruka a grin, reclaiming Ruka’s hand.

His grin turned sly when Ruka asked if he knew any folktales. “You have accidentally stumbled upon one of my favorite topics for reading material. I know lots of Japanese folktales, of course. My mother used to tell them to me when I was little. But I’ve also read books about other folktales.” He closed his eyes, concentrating on the folktales he had heard or read about Ireland. “Oh! I know the story about how the Irish hero Fionn mac Cumhaill was supposed to cook the salmon of knowledge for his mentor but burned his thumb and when he put it in his mouth, he gained the knowledge instead.” At Ruka’s admission that he doubted muggle stories Kazuo’s face fell a bit. “Just because a thing has not been discovered yet does not mean it does not exist. If I were one of those fae, the ones from the Irish stories, I wouldn’t let wizards know I existed. Look what wizards did to goblins and house elves… Wise creatures would stay away from us.” Judgement was heavy in his voice, a frown creasing his brow. He gave a slow blink then shook his head a bit, banishing the cynical thoughts when Ruka spoke of the Hawthorn’s symbolism. “I don’t recall Hawthorn having any particular symbolism in Japanese folklore. I think we use it for bonsai?” He shrugged, watching Ruka as the older boy seemed to be thinking deeply about his opinions on human nature. Kazuo considered his words with equal measure.

“Do we though?” He countered with a soft hum. “We are the literal top of the food chain. Especially those of us gifted with magic. We can bend nature, the natural order of things. We can, with very little effort, heal even the most life threatening of injuries. We can travel instantly from one place to another. Repair broken things with the wave of a wand. We have all the potential to move forward, to make things better, yet we choose to light each other on fire over petty bickering instead. If that’s evolutionary motivation, I think nature is actually trying to kill us.” He joked with a snicker. “I don’t know why humans seek conflict. I don’t think there is an easy answer. Not everyone seeks it, after all, so it isn’t a universal impulse. And the people who do all seem to do it for different reasons. Some are obvious - wealth, property, power and the like - but others less so. Why go to war over religion, for example? Or for love?” He added, coming back around to the next part of their conversation.

”What is it to you then?”

The question hung. He did not have a readily available answer. How could he? What he knew of love was secondhand sentiment. He stared down at Ruka’s hands in his, thumb absently tracing over the kanji he had drawn earlier as he considered how to respond. Words came slowly, as if he was talking through his own train of thought. “What is love? Mothers love their children because if they didn’t hold that sentiment, they wouldn’t take care of them. It’s instinctual, species preservation. We care about each other because we are herd animals and there is safety in numbers. We are driven to seek romance because of hormonal impulses to mate. Are all these things love? Or is love something more?” He lifted his gaze back to Ruka’s. “I don’t really know what love is. I just know what it isn’t. It isn’t physical attraction. It isn’t fantasy weddings or flattery. It isn’t possessing a person or obsessing over them.” He shrugged again, sighing. “Maybe I’m wrong. Lots of people seem to think love is surface appearance. Or that obsession and love are interchangeable. I just know that it doesn’t feel right to me.”

He snickered at Ruka’s comparison of him to the Caterpillar, preferring the moment of humour to the serious thoughts Ruka had provoked with his questions. He nodded when Ruka confirmed Jack’s upbringing differences then laughed outright when Ruka declared that his resting bitch face was pretty good. “Maybe it’s too good.” Kazuo teased with a smirk. “Maybe you’re too charming and your resting bitch face just adds to your allure. Maybe you have that bad boy charm that girls supposedly fall for. So dangerous, always playing with fire~ Yet he rushes to the rescue of innocent girls~” He stuck his tongue out at Ruka teasingly before growing serious.

“Then maybe it’s best for you to help yourself first.” He replied simply, shrugging and giving Ruka’s hands a light squeeze. “At the very least, that should prevent you from making things worse... or panic-kissing either of them again.” He couldn’t resist throwing in the tease at the end. He took Ruka’s issue seriously but he also found the reaction to be terribly amusing and he’d managed to refrain from making any jokes up to this point. “How many worthwhile people do you need to ease your loneliness? More than one? Less than a thousand?” He arched a brow at Ruka mischief in his eyes again. “And how can you possibly feel lonely with me in your life? Am I not the most entertaining person you’ve ever met? And you know, Jack is entertaining too, I suppose.”

@Ruka Burnett-Tân

@Kazuo Shimada

T O P

J E A N S

Ruka let his gaze drift from the kanji on the ground to Kazuo again when the other boy answered his question about the tea ceremony. His own lips curled upwards at the corners at the expression on Kazuo's face. "If you're already gonna show me, might as well go all out and make it as traditional as possible, right?" he pointed out with a grin, stretching his arms out to the side a bit as if to offer the other boy full control over whatever was happening at that tea ceremony. Strangely, he found himself trusting Kazuo enough to allow for that.

Letting out a small chuckle when Kazuo voiced exactly what Ruka had already assumed himself, he carefully curled his fingers against the other boy's palms as he listened curiously. For a moment he wished he could be writing those things down to remember them, maybe actually learn some of it so he didn't constantly need to ask Kazuo for explanations and translations. Maybe he'd be able to take some notes on it once he got back to his Dormitory. "A bit like... hieroglyphs?" he asked in awe when Kazuo talked about kanji being pictographs. He wasn't exactly familiar with the word, but the way the other boy was describing it, he thought there might be some similarities.

Feeling a strange sense of loss wash through him when Kazuo let go of one of his hands, Ruka blinked in surprise but kept steady to allow the other boy to draw on the back of his hand with his pen. Once done, Ruka stared at the kanji with wide eyes, following the lines of it with his gaze. It took him a moment to really see what Kazuo meant when he said the kanji looked like fire, but once he stopped searching so desperately for a meaning, Ruka let out a small sound of delight. He could see it, the base of a flame, the playfully flickering tips. If he could keep the kanji in tact until he reached his dorms he was sure to copy the symbol down in his journal.

With his hand back in Kazuo's grasp, Ruka found himself shuffling forward just slightly, as if the movement allowed him a better view of the symbol on his hand. "What's the third?" he asked curiously, looking back up at the other boy. "Hiragana, Kanji, and...?" It wasn't like he could tell much of a difference between either, but he felt he needed to know anyway.

When their conversation moved on to Folklore, Ruka beamed at the other boy, squeezing Kazuo's hands excitedly at the mention of Japanese Folklore. While Ruka thought to know quite a few Celtic stories, he didn't think his dad had ever told him of Japanese ones, so his expression turned eager. "I don't think I know of any Japanese Folktales," he admitted. "Do you have a favourite?" His face fell for a short moment as he asked the question, but he perked up again quickly when Kazuo continued to talk about the Irish Folktale he knew of. "Finn MacCool," Ruka said with a chuckle and a nod. "Gaining all that wisdom from a fish that ate some hazelnuts. Some people just have all the luck." He grinned. "I like Dagda's Harp." His grin dwindled into a small smile as he absentmindedly let his thumbs brush across Kazuo's knuckles. He didn't elaborate, just in case Kazuo either already knew the story or didn't feel like listening to it at the moment, so instead he focused on what the other boy had to say about creatures they may not have discovered yet.

The thought made him happy, in a way. Sometimes, in a world so full of magical and unexplainable things, it was easy to forget that there were things hidden even from them. There were still mysteries to be uncovered, still things none of them were aware of. "Just more evidence of how arrogant we are, isn't it?" he said quietly. "The things we do to creatures we consider beneath us." There was something in Kazuo's voice and expression that made Ruka squeeze his hands tightly for a moment. "You seem to care about that," he pointed out, tilting his head to the side curiously. The sound of Kazuo's voice was heavier with judgment than Ruka thought it had been when talking about blood purity, but he wasn't entirely sure what to attribute it to. "About the way wizards treat creatures. The things we do to them." It was a question, an interest in what exactly it was that made Kazuo respond to the topic in the way that he had. Ruka himself was disapproving of all kinds of injustices, particularly where creatures and animals were concerned, though he had yet to meet someone who seemed genuinely interested in his opinions on it.

"Bonsai," he repeated with a smile. "That's those miniature trees, right? You have miniature hawthorn?" He giggled at the thought. "Might be home to very small fairies." Maybe there was more to that. Ruka instantly made a mental note to read up on bonsai and the significance of Hawthorn in Japan.

Thoughtfully letting his gaze drift across the lake as Kazuo voiced his opinions on people's need for conflict, Ruka took a deep breath. "I'm not saying it's a smart way of striving for progress," he pointed out with a small laugh. "I thought of it more as... It's easier to re-build than to build something new, isn't it? We tear things down so we can build them up again. It's the illusion of progress as least. We're just kids smashing down lego houses so we can build them again, because we have no idea what else to add to them anymore." Not that Ruka had had legos growing up, but he had seen them plenty around stores by now. "Some of us are happy with how the House turned out, so we just leave it be. Others would rather spend time figuring out how to improve on it, but the majority of us is impatient and easily bored. Destruction and conflict are easy ways to make things happen; requires neither much thought nor a lot of effort." He shrugged, a trace of disappointment in his voice. Thoughtfully he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and chewed on it for a moment as he considered what would drive people to go to war for love and power. "We do dumb stuff for the things we believe in most, don't we?" he pointed out with a lazy chuckle. "Especially when we feel desperate and helpless." His gaze dropped to where his hands still lay in Kazuo's grip, and he tried to stretch his fingers in a way that allowed him to tickle across the thin skin of the other boy's wrist. Feeling helpless was something he had learned a lot about over the past year.

Ruka looked back up to observe Kazuo's expression as he talked about love and what he thought of it. The answer felt like he was reading out of a text book, factual, scientific. Hormones and evolutionary drive, species preservation, survival instinct. Their gazes would lock when Kazuo looked back up, and Ruka would offer the other boy a smile. "It might be something different to everyone," he pointed out with a slow shrug of his shoulders. "It's kind of more of an abstract concept anyway, isn't it? Might just take time to figure out what it means to us personally."

The change from the serious atmosphere to Kazuo's laughter was welcome, and Ruka instantly felt his expression brightening, fuelled by the fact that he could make the other boy laugh like that. "Oh yeah," he agreed, mock-seriously, and nodded. "Regular Hero, me. Helping people to stand up when they trip. It's a dying art, I hear." He attempted to playfully shove at Kazuo, though with their hands clasped in each other's it was rather ineffective.

He found himself only vaguely surprised when Kazuo finally used the ammo he had given him to deliver a tease about Ruka's kissing habits, but rather than taking offence, it made him stifle a laugh against his own shoulder. "Think I've had more than enough of panic-kissing anybody," he relented, smiling fondly at the squeeze Kazuo gave his hands. He had assumed that after a while holding onto someone's hands like that would start to feel awkward, but he found that he was comfortable, safe. Enough so that, as the other boy kept talking, Ruka carefully adjusted his position, letting go of Kazuo's left hand so he could shuffle into a spot next to him rather than facing him. Carefully he nudged his elbow against Kazuo's and squeezed the hand he was still holding.

"You're alright, I suppose," he said teasingly, unable to suppress the grin spreading on his face. "And Jack's entertaining, alright. If you find heart palpitations entertaining." He snorted ungracefully. "I'm definitely less lonely than I used to be." The smile on his face spread as he felt himself relaxing. He wiggled his wrist a bit until he managed to intertwine his fingers with Kazuo's rather than simply clasping his hand. "Suppose it takes a while to trust that that's not just gonna... go away." With a small sigh, Ruka let his head tilt to the side to rest against the other boy's shoulder. "Getting there, though."

As traditional as possible.

At Ruka’s offer to let him go all out, Kazuo grinned. “I see that foolhardy bravery that makes you a Gryffindor coming out.” He teased, mind already racing ahead to plan how he could host a proper tea ceremony for Ruka. He might not go full traditional… He had a feeling that Ruka might grow tired of the long silent moments of reflection that could accompany the stiffest of ceremonies. Certainly, he could provide the right clothing and atmosphere though, and pleasant conversation never seemed to be lacking between them. “Pick three colours.” He suggested then added. “Oh and three for Jack as well.”

He looked down at their hands when Ruka curled his fingers, seemingly content to keep contact. “Yes, much like hieroglyphs.” He agreed with a nod. “Humans learned to name things before they learned to write. The oldest languages reflect this in how they form the words we made up. Language is fascinating, really. The very idea that humans, spread out across vast differences, could all agree upon the need for verbal communication yet come up with completely different sounds to convey the same meanings. Why bi?” He mused as Ruka stared at the kanji he had drawn on his hand. “Why fire or Pozhar?” He added the Russian word. “Bul is Korean and huo is Chinese. All three languages share roots and we’re all close together geographically yet we still cannot agree on a single word.”

He looked up as Ruka moved closer, realizing that he had been rambling again when Ruka posed another question. “Katakana. We often use katakana when we add foreign words. Like coffee.” He emphasized the proper English pronunciation. then once again let go of one of Ruka’s hands to grab his pen, turning Ruka’s other hand over so that he could write across the inside of his arm this time:

コーヒー kohi

“Kohi” He repeated the way they pronounced it in Japan. “We adopt a lot of words and katakana makes it easier to convert them to our written language using phonetics. It’s a bit more complicated than that as we have other uses for katakana but that’s one of its more widespread uses. Names are often written in katakana. Non-Japanese names, I mean. Like yours.” He added one more line of katakana then the pen went back behind his ear and he reclaimed Ruka’s hand, laughing a bit as he looked at the words.

ルカ

“I didn’t want to bring my journal for a digging errand… Next time I’ll bring it just in case we give up on the errand and end up in language lessons. Or… Better yet… Next time you can teach me something.”

He fell silent, pondering the folktales he knew. He always had trouble with questions about favourite things. He didn’t like choosing one thing he liked over another. It seemed silly to rank such things. Especially when it came to folktales. They were all fascinating. “I think… maybe the one I told Jake about. The story of Tamamo no mae. She was a kitsune, not a very good one, the way the story goes. They say she was power-hungry and wanted the Emperor’s throne. That she seduced the Emperor then made him sick. This is how they tell it now. But there was an older story about her. The first story is called Tamamizu Monogatari and in that story, it was the Emperor’s daughter she was interested in. She had fallen in love with the Princess and chose the guise of a handmaiden. But the truth of the story was that she was accused of trying to kill the Emperor when it was one of his own family that had made him fall ill. She was one of the most powerful kitsune to have ever lived, a full nine-tails. It’s hard to imagine her being so easily caught if she really had tried to kill the Emperor.” Kazuo looked down as Ruka drew his thumbs across his knuckles, the gentle touch a bit disconcerting to the stand-offish boy. Not uncomfortable, just different, something new, something he wasn’t used to. In attempting to help Ruka, he had stepped outside his usual comfort zone and he wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about the almost comforting feeling of Ruka’s casual touch.

“Tell me.” He perhaps commanded more than asked, eyes shining brightly as he looked at Ruka. “I don’t think I’ve read that one.”

Kazuo’s smile faltered a bit when they returned to the conversation about magical creatures, specifically when he pointed out that Kazuo cared about their plight. “You seem to care about it, too.” He pointed out with a shrug. “There’s a balance to things and that balance is important. Humans mess everything up. We have a responsibility to use our gifts wisely but so many of us do not. And while it’s sometimes humans who suffer from that misuse of power, oftentimes it’s not. It’s those other creatures, just trying to live their own way, to fulfill their own purposes, who end up hurt by us. How is that fair or just?” Though he had been very serious in his response, he did crack a smile when Ruka suggested that hawthorn bonsai might house tiny fairies. “We have a type of creature we call a yosei that I think equates to the idea of fairies here. Particularly the small types. I like the idea that they might be living in our bonsai… I should ask my mom about it.”

Kazuo listened patiently as Ruka spoke, voicing his opinion on the seemingly destructive nature of humans. His own thumbs rubbed over Ruka’s knuckles in subconscious mimicry of what Ruka had been doing earlier. “Are you saying that humanity is the way it is because humans are impatient and easily bored?” Kazuo asked in amused surprise. “That is… awful. But so very believable. Please stop talking I’m not sure my obviously superior logical thoughts can handle any more awful revelations like that one.” He joked with a delighted laugh. “The truth, though, is that destruction might seem like the easiest answer but it always leads to more work in the end. So all those lazy and impatient humans are actually making more work for themselves, not less.” He gave a slight shiver when Ruka’s fingertips slid lightly across his wrists, triggering his ticklishness a bit. “I make a point of doing everything I can to keep myself from ever being in a position where I am desperate and helpless. I do not like those feelings and I have no desire to entertain even the slightest chance that I would have to make important decisions while in a situation like that.” It was a truth he had come to throughout the last year and while he knew he was still unable to truly say that he wasn’t helpless, the act of pursuing the knowledge and skills he needed eased that awful feeling for him.

Kazuo found a bit of amusement out of the transition from talking about helplessness to talking about love as he couldn’t help but to think the two went hand-in-hand. Was there anything in the world that could make you feel as helpless as volatile affections? He doubted it. He’d certainly be less afraid to face an angry dragon than he would the affections of a girl. “Yeah… it probably is different for everyone. I don’t think I’ll ever understand it.” He agreed with a wry smile. He laughed again when Ruka playfully tried to shove him, pushing back with enough resistance to keep their hands centred. “Good. I’d hate to waste my amateur therapy on you if you didn’t want to get past this awful coping method you’ve developed.” He responded, sticking his tongue out at Ruka. As the older boy shifted, moving to sit side-by-side instead of across, Kazuo gave him a grin. “You seem to be handling this well enough.” He observed as Ruka intertwined their fingers, shifting it to what felt to Kazuo like a more affectionate way to hold hands. He tried not to read into it but his mind wanted to wander, to contemplate what it meant to him. He gave Ruka’s hand a squeeze. “It seems like it is a matter of control for you.”

“Heart palpitations are good. They remind you that you’re alive.” He teased in response to Ruka’s comment about Jack. “Trust is the hardest part, isn’t it?” He murmured a quiet agreement, leaning his own head against Ruka’s.

@Kazuo Shimada

T O P

J E A N S

Ruka met Kazuo's grin with one of his own, nodding once. "Headfirst into the unknown," he confirmed. "I laugh in the face of danger." He let out his best mimic of a cartoon lion cub roar before succumbing to a short fit of giggles. Considering he didn't want to seem disrespectful in the face of Kazuo's offer to show him a tea ceremony, however, he quickly pulled himself together, tilting his head to the side questioningly when the other boy asked for three colours each for himself and his brother.

The latter was easy enough. "Teal for Jack," he said confidently. "Copper, and Royal Purple." He smiled briefly before humming thoughtfully. "Orange for me..." It took him a moment to try and figure out which colours he found pleasing, which ones to choose above others. "Navy Blue and... Burgundy." He nodded, satisfied with his choices. "Which colours would you pick?" He wasn't exactly sure what Kazuo needed the colours for but he was willing to let himself be surprised.

Observing Kazuo with keen interest as the other boy talked about languages, Ruka found himself smiling with enthusiasm that didn't seem to be solely his own. He had always been interested in learning new words and languages, had always been fascinated by it, but he had never looked at it quite this in-depth before. Kazuo was right - There was something excitingly curious about the way language had developed so vastly different for different people, even those with similar roots. "How do you know so much about languages?" he asked, awe clearly written across his face. Kazuo had so easily listed the words for fire in five different languages; Had he had lessons? Learned from books or other people?

He held still again when Kazuo let go of one of his hands once more, this time to write across his arm, which made it a little harder not to twitch and wiggle away from the touch. He couldn't quite suppress a puff of laughter escaping his lungs at the way the pen tickled against his skin, but otherwise he remained steady.

"Koh-hee," he repeated clumsily as he stared at the symbols Kazuo had drawn across his arm. He wondered how to recognise which line represented which sound exactly, but he felt like he would run out of bare skin too quickly for Kazuo to actually give him a lesson on katakana. Instead he just watched the other boy adding to the lines on his arm before tucking his pen behind his ear again. Ruka stared at it, his name in unfamiliar lettering, looking nothing like what he was used to. He liked it, he decided. Delicate, like a dance.

"This is much better than digging holes," he decided in agreement to Kazuo's words about bringing his journal next time. "I'll make sure to copy it all down when I get to my dorm." He grinned, letting out a small laugh at Kazuo's words. "I'm a horrendous teacher," he decided, wondering for a moment what exactly he could possibly teach someone with as much knowledge as Kazuo seemed to have about all sorts of topics. Not that Ruka considered himself unintelligent, but most things he knew bits of pieces of - Hardly enough to be holding any lectures about. He squeezed Kazuo's hands gently. "It's Bulgarian," he blurted out with a little smile, nodding in the direction of his name in katakana on his arm. "Ruka. It's Bulgarian for Hand. Tân is Welsh for Fire." He chuckled, lightly wiggling his fingers against Kazuo's palms. "That's about as much of a language lesson as I can give you." He chuckled and averted his eyes for a moment before looking back to observe Kazuo's expression as he looked for a Folktale to tell him about.

It was a sad one, in Ruka's opinion. A powerful being in love blamed for a heinous crime. He stayed quiet for a moment as he considered it, swallowing heavily. "What do you like about it?" he asked curiously as he tried to catch Kazuo's eye as if that might help him get a better understanding. "What happened to... to Tamamo no Mae? And the Princess?" He watched as Kazuo's gaze dropped to their hands as Ruka's thumbs brushed against his knuckles, and for a second he thought he may have done something wrong, but the other boy didn't protest or pull away. Against his will, it made him smile.

Kazuo's demand for Ruka to tell him about Dagda's Harp was met with a small chuckle, though his eyes lit up at the knowledge that the other boy was interested. "Dagda was a God with the Tuatha dé Danaan," he said slowly, a far off look in his eyes as he tried to recall the story the way his dad used to tell it. "He possessed a lot of trinkets and treasures, but his most valuable was his harp, Uaithne. He could change the seasons with it, and the emotions of everyone who heard it. He would play it especially after battles to make sure his comrades would enjoy their victories rather than mourn their losses." He smiled, eyes focused on their hands between them. "They were supposed to be the first tribe to settle in Ireland, but the Fomorians were already there, and they didn't want to just surrender their home, so the tribes battled. When the Fomorians heard of Dagda's Harp they were convinced that it was the key to victory, so while a battle was going on, some of their men snuck into the Tuatha dé Danaan's camp and stole it." A small glint lit up his eyes for a moment. "The thieves hid away in a deserted castle where they hung the harp on a wall and waited for their army to catch up with them after the battle was over. The Fomorians lost, but at least they had gotten their hands on the Harp, which Dagda only noticed when he went to play it for his men after the battle was over. Dagda gathered willing men to come and retrieve his Harp with him, and they rode off until they found the Fomorians' camp. Once they spotted the Harp, Dagda called for it, and it flew off the wall to meet its owner. It alerted the Fomorians who greatly outnumbered Dagda and his men, so Dagda made use of his Harp's powers. He played the Music of Mirth, making the Fomorians laugh so hard they dropped their weapons. Next, he played the Music of Grief, forcing them to weep with all their sorrows. Lastly he strung the Music of Sleep, lulling all the Fomorians into unconsciousness, and they left them there, fast asleep. Nobody ever dared steal Dagda's Harp again." A grin spread on Ruka's face as finished his story, eyes locking on the other boy's as if to search for a reaction there.

His expression dimmed again as their conversation turned to the treatment of magical creatures, and Ruka tilted his head to the side curiously when Kazuo answered his observation with one of his own. "I do," he confirmed quietly. "I'm just not very used to anybody else giving it much thought." The corners of his mouth quirked upwards, though he couldn't quite manage a smile at the severity of what they were talking about. "It isn't fair at all. We can't just let our business be our business, we force our apparent superiority on creatures and animals without any consideration, we are so concerned with making everything useful to us. Humans love to make everything about themselves." He dropped his gaze and tried to ban the bitterness from his voice. "We can't leave well enough alone." He shrugged before letting a small smile take over his features when Kazuo mentioned yosei possibly living in bonsai.

"Does your mom know a lot about fairies?" he asked curiously, realising that he didn't actually know what profession Kazuo's mother was in, had somehow assumed she would be working in Politics the same as his father.

Ruka watched with a wave of fondness as Kazuo's thumbs brushed across his own knuckles the same way Ruka had done to the other boy before. It made his skin tingle with comfortable warmth. His laugh came easily when Kazuo asked him to stop talking, and he squeezed the other boy's hands in response. "Well, in addition to being impatient and easily bored," he said slowly. "They are also notoriously stupid." He poked his tongue out at Kazuo and shrugged his shoulders. "They don't tend to look at the consequences in the long run as long as it's easy to start out with. Which is probably a good thing, considering how much they seem to like complaining about how hard life is, so why not just make it hard on themselves, right?" He chuckled lightly, ceasing the sound when he noticed Kazuo's shiver when curious fingertips danced across his wrists. For a moment, Ruka was tempted to press his newfound knowledge, try to get more of a reaction by tickling him further, but instead he decided to simply store the information away, let his fingertip rest peacefully on Kazuo's palms again.

"How do you avoid it?" he asked gently, mustering Kazuo with a glint in his eyes. "The helplessness. How do you get rid of it?" He would have given everything, he thought, to solve that issue.

Observing Kazuo's humourless smile for a moment, Ruka took a deep breath and lightly shrugged his shoulders. "Well, never say never," he said, letting his gaze drift across the lake before settling on the other boy again. "Might be like attachments. Sneak up on you when you least expect it." He chuckled quietly. "Which doesn't guarantee we'll understand it anyway, I suppose, but..." He hummed quietly and left his thought unfinished to instead laugh at Kazuo's words. "If this is therapy, am I expected to pay you an hourly rate?" he asked, raising his eyebrows, clearly amused. "How long have we been at it? How many lemon tarts do I owe you by now?" A bright laugh escaped him as he moved to sit next to Kazuo.

His expression settled into a content smile, a hum sounding through him at the other boy's observation. "You're easy to feel comfortable with," he pointed out, finding that it was true. The squeeze to his hand was returned with one of his own as he nodded his agreement. Things did feel easier as long as he was able to keep some sense of control. "Am I making you uncomfortable?" he asked quietly. While Kazuo had offered his hands to him before, it was Ruka pressing for closer contact without checking if it was okay with the other boy, who had only just confessed to having a hard time dealing with how physically affectionate people were outside of Japan.

Still, Kazuo didn't pull away so Ruka kept their fingers intertwined und subconsciously let his thumb brush against the side of the other boy's hand as he hummed. "He definitely makes me feel alive," he agreed, fondly rolling his eyes. "Too alive, sometimes. My poor heart could do with some rest." He chuckled, then tensed for a second when Kazuo's head came to rest against his own, though he could feel himself easing up again almost immediately.

"It's the worst," he agreed quietly, shuffling around to hug one of his knees against his chest. "Blind faith. Bloody terrifying." He took a deep breath before letting his eyelids flutter shut for a moment. "Would you say I can trust you?" he wondered quietly, lifting their intertwined hands to rest them against his own propped up knee. "Because I feel like I could."

Kazuo snorted in amusement at Ruka’s declaration and though he tried not to, he couldn’t help but to laugh along with Ruka when the older boy ‘roared’. He grabbed his pen and wrote down the colours on his own arm then chewed on the end of it as he thought about his choices. “You may find in hindsight, that my colours are fairly obvious…” He said with amusement. His wardrobe was almost entirely black and red. “Black, red… and probably purple if I had to choose a third.” He didn’t elaborate on why he wanted the colors, just grinned at Ruka.

Kazuo shook his head when Ruka asked how he knew so much about languages. “I don’t know that much. Chinese is the root for Japanese kanji so there is crossover and Korean shares some similarities as well. I don’t really speak or read either language fluently. I was learning Russian a little bit before I came to London, from this Russian guy who lived in Ikebukuro. Every time I went into his shop, I asked him to teach me a new phrase or word or something. And English I was tutored in. I just find language interesting so I look stuff up on my own.” He chuckled when Ruka promised to write it down. “Should I just get you a book?” He teased with a grin. “I probably have my old elementary school textbooks at home.” Though he teased, it was mostly to hide how happy Ruka’s interest made him. He listened intently when Ruka explained his own name’s meaning. “Tân… Another word for fire…” He hummed thoughtfully. “Was your father Welsh? Why a Bulgarian name?” He asked with curiosity. “Your name is far more interesting in meaning than mine…” He added with a laugh. “And I think a bit more accurate to you, fire dancer…”

Kazuo met Ruka’s gaze steadily, though his expression was serious as he framed a response. “Tamamo was amazing. She lived for at least a thousand years and was said to have brought kings to their knees in many nations. Beyond her kitsune powers, she was also a powerful sorceress, a practitioner of the tao which was not something most kitsune could do. She refused to bend to anyone, chose her own path, stayed true to her own desires. There was an onmyoji in the Emperor’s court who suspected her of being a kitsune, Abe no Yasunori. In order to prove it, he asked her to participate in a ritual. She knew. She knew it was a trap but she did the ritual anyway.” There was admiration in Kazuo’s voice as he spoke though as he continued with her story it turned sad. “They sent an army of soldiers to hunt her down. They spend days and days trying to catch her but failing until finally, they managed to corner her. They say she was killed but I wonder. She was so powerful and clever… Is it even possible?” He shrugged. “I suppose it’s a strange story to choose as my favourite. No heroes or anything. Not even a happy ending.”

Kazuo gave Ruka his full attention, listening raptly with bright eyes as the other told his folktale. “A harp that changes people’s emotions… That would be amazing to have!” He could only imagine what could be done with something like that. He gave Ruka’s hand an excited squeeze. “Imagine being able to play music so powerful that it makes people feel what you want them to… Do you know lots of Irish stories? You should tell me more if you do.”

“People don’t like to think beyond their own comforts or problems.” Kazuo replied with a sigh. “If it isn’t immediate, if it doesn’t inconvenience them…” Kazuo shrugged. “Humans are so fascinating… but sometimes I think we’re also very disgusting.”

Kazuo shrugged again when Ruka asked about his mother. “I don’t know how much she knows about the types of fairies you have here. She’s what you call a magizoologist here but she studies Japanese creatures. She’s also a lore keeper for our clan. Or I guess a history or record keeper.” He didn’t talk about his family much and most people didn’t ask. This was the first time he’d mentioned what his mother did to anyone. Why was it always Ruka who asked these things? He looked down at their hands, fingers intertwined, and flushed a bit as his thoughts lingered on the strange yet comfortable feeling Ruka seemed to bring out in him.

“I don’t know. I haven’t gotten rid of it yet. I mean, we’re kids so how can we really? But I find it easier to deal with by working toward the things that will help me not be helpless. It’s one of the reasons I joined the duelling club. The faster I can master magic, the more I can learn about the things that are a danger to me, the less likely I’ll be caught in a helpless situation, you know?” He gazed down at their hand as Ruka talked, letting out a soft hum. Love was such a strange thing, fascinating to view at a distance, terrifying to contemplate personally. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to experience the irrational feelings and generally poor decision-making that seemed to inevitably come with falling in love with someone. It seemed a much better thing to witness from afar. He chuckled when Ruka brought up payment for his services. “At least a dozen.” He announced with a smirk. “But since I like you, I’ll give you the friends and family rate. Fifty percent off.”

He closed his eyes, content to rest against Ruka, the warmth of the sun making a nap seem like a wonderful idea. He could understand now why Ruka had been napping earlier. “So weird.” He murmured with amusement. “I don’t think I make anyone feel comfortable usually.” He considered Ruka’s question for a moment before continuing. “It’s different. I’m not used to it but you aren’t making me uncomfortable. Besides, I offered so it’s fine. If I was uncomfortable, I’d tell you. You know, like I told you to do when other people make you uncomfortable.” He added the last part as a tease. He did hope Ruka would take his advice to heart and actually speak up when people made him uncomfortable, though. He didn’t like the way people seemed to ignore boundaries.

“I think your heart will be okay.” Kazuo laughed. “Besides which, as much as you complain, I think a part of you enjoys the trouble you two get into. I think… if Jack stopped dragging you into adventures, you would get bored.”

Ruka’s last question caught him off guard. Trust? Him? If it had been someone else asking him that question, the answer would very much be no. He was generally more self-serving than anything else. But with Ruka, the answer didn’t seem so easy. He wanted Ruka to trust him but he didn’t believe he deserved that trust. “You can trust me to be me.” He replied after a long moment of thought. “I don’t know that I’ve done anything to earn your trust, though. If anything, I would think you should feel the opposite way considering what you’ve seen of me.” He thought about how he had stalked Ruka, what he’d done at the Ball, even the way he had failed to help Flash because he had been more interested in trying to talk Selim down. These didn’t seem like the sort of things trustworthy people did. He let out a soft sigh then added, quietly. “I’m probably not the most trustworthy person.”