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Sunlight peeks through the light grey curtains of their modest living room, the fan above blowing a comfortable wind as they each work on their own things, existing together in the same space, no hurry to get to one thing or another.
A rare day, one where the three of them have it free simultaneously.
Rean puts down his red pen, leans back and stretches his aching arms, diverging his attention away from the essay he’s currently grading and focusing it on the room around him, bathing in the presences around him.
Crow is splayed across one light grey couch, his legs hanging off the armrest as he fiddles with his ARCUS, the intense soundtrack of Pom Pom Party playing as the sound effects of cleared poms ding and ding in a planned combo activating. He’s focused, yet controls it with his thumb.
On the opposite side, curled up on the three seater couch, is Isshin, his long white hair a mess as light breathing escapes his nose.
He’s taking a nap.
“‘S the first time, right?” Crow casually remarks, glancing at their asleep partner before returning to his game.
He read his mind. It is. Isshin has never fallen asleep out in the open like this.
“Mhm.” Rean picks himself up from the comfortable white rug around the coffee table he’s been using as his writing desk. It’s a few steps to the other end of the room to swipe a thin blanket, quietly fanning it open and covering him with it. He sits on the empty spot beside him. “I’m relieved his nightmares are less frequent now.”
Crow pauses his game as he tosses his device aside, moving to take the empty spot on his other side, careful to not sit on any strands of his messy hair. “Yeah, you can say that again.”
He reaches out and pets his head, combing through his tangled white hair. Isshin relaxes further into the cushions with a sigh.
Rean smiles.
You couldn’t imagine a scene like this, back during the early days after Isshin was saved from the Tower. They gave him the extra room, his home for as long as he wants it to be, and he accepted it despite his reservations.
The nightmares started not long after. In the middle of the night, he would scream himself awake, and by the time they made it to him, he would be sat up on the bed, trembling shoulders as he hides under the blanket as much as he allows himself. The look in his eyes the same as how Rean had it after some of his own bad dreams, according to Crow. He never imagined he would be presented with it, a mirror into his own past, back when he struggled after the end of the Twilight.
Isshin would be out of it, his usual bite gone, in its place a shadow darker than the enthrals of the curse.
Crow did most of the comforting, sat on his bed and patting his head or hugging him on the rare occasions he was allowed. While Rean would busy his hands by preparing three mugs of warm tea, camomile with a dash of honey, trying not to think whether he screamed the same on those nights.
Isshin would cling to the mug, holding it close to his chest, willing the warmth to help with how cold his heart was. It was the same for Rean too. “Sorry. For waking you.” He would whisper. “Haha, my existence is a mistake,” and other such lines would fall from his mouth.
Every time, Rean would remind him. He was determined to keep at it until he understood. “It’s okay. It’s not our first.”
Which was the truth. He can’t count the amount of times when either of them disturbed the other with one nightmare or another. He’s past feeling guilty for any of them, those apologies he thinks he should say replaced with gratitude, thanking Crow for his patience and comfort, and doing the same for him too.
Crow wondered aloud if he should grab their spare futon so he can sleep in this room with him. Isshin tried to get him to not, because he doesn’t want to trouble him, and after a back and forth, all three of them end up sleeping in that same room together.
It’s one of the nights he remembers the most fondly, especially when they woke up with him in the middle, one of Crow’s arms thrown over his side while Isshin held a fistful of his pajamas.
Isshin grumbles something in his sleep, and shifts.
It takes him a moment to shuffle closer to Crow, rubbing his face into his clothed thigh, sending his hair flying about.
Crow giggles, poking his cheek. “Someone sure is cute when he’s groggy~”
“You’re not any better when you’re sleepy.” Rean chuckles, reaching out to pet Isshin’s head too.
A chance to shower him with as much affection as they want without him bristling and running away is rare, they must always cherish and appreciate every moment they’re given.
“Hey, I ain’t this bad!” Crow gestures to Isshin with both of his open palms.
“Sure, whatever you say.” Rean shakes his head, gently scratching his scalp, dragging out a rumbling from his throat. Purring like a cat.
He counts in his head, and reaches a new record of five minutes before Isshin fully wakes up, bolting off the couch like he touched a fire art, sending the blanket flying, stopping when he has some distance, keeping his back towards them.
“Stop getting distracted from your work!” They can’t see his face. His ears are red.
“I have no work—”
“Shut up! Go back to planning your future office!” He cuts Crow off and escapes through the doorway to the kitchen.
Rean laughs as Crow sighs, melting into the couch in dramatic disappointment.
He returns to grading the pile of essays, gets through several with the noise of Crow tapping on his ARCUS, the whistling of a boiling kettle, and the clinking of utensils in the kitchen, when their partner returns.
Isshin balances a tray, a pot of tea with three cups and various plates of snacks on top, steam floating out of the narrow spout alongside the gentle smell of lavender, colourful butter biscuits on one plate while another holds a bunch of salty savoury rice crackers, broken into smaller pieces, each a perfect mouthful.
He’s careful as he steps onto the white rug, Rean moves to grab some of the papers and push them aside, making space for him to lower and place the tray down. He takes the pot and pours the tea into each cup, the light honey coloured liquid gracefully filling them up without spilling a drop, and once he’s done, he grabs a handful of broken rice crackers and flops onto the couch.
Rean is organizing the papers while he begins chomping on them, smiling as he hears the loud crunches and the biscuit pieces giving into his sharp teeth.
Such a far cry from the past. Isshin frequently lost his apetite and skipped meals, just like how Rean used to when he was too stressed and too busy to give thought to his own nutrition.
“Take a break and drink the tea already before it gets cold.” Isshin nudges Crow with his foot and gestures to the steaming cups with his gaze. “Don’t waste my efforts.”
“Yeah yeah, ya got it boss.” Crow snickers.
“Thank you, Isshin.” Rean bows his head and takes the closest cup, lifting it off the saucer to sip.
The gentle fragrance of lavender, the liquid’s perfect temperature to avoid scalding his tongue, the distinct hint of sweetness and taste that comes with added honey, he gulps and loses the tension in his back and arms from his grading session. He lets out a breath from his nose, glancing down to see a small purple bud and several petals floating on the surface, lilac above the gold, those parts of who he truly is rising to the top, above the influence of the Rivalry he was forced to endure.
It’s being given a hug in drink form.
Crow sighs out too, his shoulders drooping as he melts a little more into the couch. Isshin pretends to focus on eating his crackers, hiding his smile from them behind his favourite red scarf.
They enjoy the tea and snacks with some light talk, drifting from one topic to another, no pressure. Crow updates them on Angelica’s latest adventure somewhere in the Arseid Viscounty, how she enjoys the attention of various women as she checks on the state of the smaller towns that the bracers tend to neglect. Not because they want to, it’s simply what happens when they still lack manpower compared to those bygone days.
“I should be helping them out too, but eh, I gotta work on my own plans.” He shrugs, plopping the rest of the yellow butter biscuit into his mouth.
“… Maybe I should’ve taken their offer,” Isshin mutters to himself, placing his cup back onto the table to stare at his hands. His claws now back to fingers with the efforts of the Witches, but the skin remains black, veins still red. The gloves he usually wears to cover them left to churn in the wash with their other dirty clothing.
“They would welcome you.” Rean lowers his cup onto his lap. “But… Is that what you really want?”
He closes his black fingers into loose fists. “I…”
His long white hair falls forward, covering his face. His mouth forms a thin line, carefully neutral, jaw slightly tensed.
“Hey, no need to rush it.” Crow wipes the crumbs on the thighs of his own loose long pants before placing it on his shoulder. “If you’re still unsure, you could always give me a hand with my stuff and see how ya feel about it.”
He snorts, turning to narrow his eyes at him. “You just want free labour.”
“I ain’t that cruel! We would split the rewards from jobs!” He playfully shakes him by the shoulder.
Rean giggles, leaning back onto the cushions behind him. “Crow has a point, no one is forcing you to make a decision right now. And if you find out it’s not for you, you can always change to something else. There’s no shame in the process of discovery.”
Things may have been bumpy right after he was saved from the tower, though those times are far behind them. The bracers gave him a verbal offer, Principal Aurelia mailed him a letter with her own, that came with letters from both the Vander and the Arseid schools of swordsmanship, not to mention letters from the Thors main campus or Musse as Mildine or Prince Olivert.
His most recent was a letter from Master Ka-Fai, recognizing his Divine Blade title with their Master’s brand of encouragement in the form of wise words, and a little reminder that with his title, he’s free to journey and take on his own disciples if he so desires.
He’s about as spoiled for choice as Rean was after the end of the Great Twilight.
“See, Rean gets it!” Crow shoots a finger-gun at him. “But seriously, offer’s always on the table. No shame about it, yeah?”
Isshin looks down, eventually nodding.
With that, Crow pats his shoulder one last time before letting go. “Anything fun on your end, Instructor Rean?”
“I’m not sure it qualifies, but…”
He goes on about how the members of Class VII are preparing their academy festival, because Principal Aurelia couldn’t pass up on having one of their own, even if most of the nation remains recovering from the events of the war and the tower. They are planning to put on a stage play, and after Crow and Elliot’s help the other day, they’ve been throwing themselves into practice for it. In the end, it’s up to them to display the fruits of their labour.
Crow and Isshin are welcome to attend the festival. Rean requested coupons to be saved for the three of them, it wouldn’t feel right otherwise.
“‘Course we’re attending. Right, Isshin?” Crow throws an arm around their newest partner and pulls him in to rub his head against his neck.
“T-That tickles!” He squirms, giggling under his breath. “I… I’ll try to make time for it. No promises!”
Translation: Yes, he’s going. Rean giggles. His language is similar to Alisa’s, a sign he continues to struggle to show his true feelings.
As the snacks run out, so does their little break. Rean stretches before returning to his grading, Crow is tapping out something on his ARCUS when it vibrates and rings in his hands.
“Sorry, gotta take this.” He picks his limbs up and shifts.
Isshin scoots over as he begins to stand, brushing against his side briefly with his arm. He shoots him a smile, then plasters on one a little more manufactured as he presses the button and greets whoever is on the other side of the call, chattering away as he leaves the room.
Rean returns to the papers as his back disappears, reading through the paragraph that’s supposed to detail how Erebonia’s military has evolved over the course of the last 100 years, the changes under each regime and how that has led to impacts on select social issues at the time. Kurt can pinpoint details of the military, though his knowledge on the impacts on society at the time are a little lacking. He could emphasize more on the social impacts on his next go through of the subject in class—
A familiar warm weight settles against his side.
He turns, and gets a faceful of white hair. He moves to comb it down, allowing him to look over his shoulder, spotting the book in his hands. It’s one of the novels he bought back during the civil war, while they were helping people on the Courageous.
His eyes are on the words, silently reading, turning pages by the lower edge of each one, making sure not to crinkle the slightly yellowed paper.
When did they grow this close, enough that he feels safe leaning on him like this?
Things were complicated back then. They avoided each other despite living in the same house. Rean didn’t want to agitate or bother him, while Isshin was grappling with his own conflicting emotions, add to that is the weak link of their mostly severed resonance, how their anxieties fuelled each other and made every little action seem like an insult or a slight against one of them…
It’s a miracle they managed to avoid any sort of big argument and stay under the same roof.
He returns to his grading, immersing himself in the words of his students, writing down at the side on another notepad what he should insert into his upcoming lessons, incorperating their feedback into his teaching. At some point, Crow comes back and takes over the couch behind them.
The weight against him grows heavier, followed by a relaxed sigh.
He's beginning to get some headway into the pile when light snoring justles him out of his focus.
He blinks, his blurry surroundings clearing as he tunes back to their living room.
It's Isshin.
He's leaning his head onto his shoulder, a comfortable position thanks to the slight height advantage Rean has over him, the whole of his weight on him now. Snoring lightly, eyes closed, face peaceful.
Hopefully his sleep continues to be peaceful.
Crow leans over and plucks the book out of his loose grip, shoulders and chest shaking in a silent chuckle. Rean smiles, beckons him, waiting while he carefully leaves the novel on the other side of the couch, and when he’s close, he pecks his cheek.
They couldn’t have made it this far without him. Their precious birdbrain.
He blinks in surprise, before breaking out into the widest grin as he pecks him back. Rean pulls away, notices the leftover wet spot and deadpans. Seriously? How old is he? He smirks, uncaring of how dirty it is.
Then he glances to the person still napping peacefully on his shoulder.
Ah, that’s what he’s getting at.
Crow holds up a hand, three fingers in the air. He counts down, from three, to two, and one.
Rean twists to peck at Isshin’s temple, while Crow gives him one on his cheek.
Loving him, as much as a version of Rean deserves, and as much as Isshin deserves.