Chapter Text
『 Talking to the moon 』
『 Trying to get to you 』
『 In hopes you’re on the other side, talking to me too 』
『 Or am I a fool 』
『 Who sits alone, talking to the moon 』
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Rin Hattori wasn’t one to be swayed heavily by his emotions.
Or at least, that’s what he believed about himself. It’s what a lot of people told him.
He didn’t bat an eye at the judging stares that questioned his resolve, nor did he falter when he was told on the first day of class over a year ago that the Earth would be destroyed. And that they, as fifteen year old students, would have to kill the being responsible for such a threat.
Some closer to him would call him out on his bluffs. They would say that he was a feeler, an empath at his finest. Someone who pretended not to be affected by the world, and had simply gotten used to burying the feeling of helplessness and injustice away.
But that was maybe-thirty odd people against the entire world. Although it meant more than they knew for Rin, it didn’t change the fact that everyone else who had ever seen him in their life agreed otherwise.
Rin could say, from past experiences, that he was a fairly level-headed person.
He didn’t let things get to him too much, because that was his way of life.
(Or at least, what he believed to be his way of life.)
Rin brushed his nose, hand pulling away to see red, blood red.
Perhaps it was the sleep deprivation.
He brushed his hair away from his face (and the blood), grabbing some tissues from the side of his bed that were just within reach. He held it against his nose, accustomed to the action, and tilted his head upwards.
Pray tell, what was the root of Rin’s unrest?
Tired chestnut eyes flitted to the guitar case in the other corner of his room, black and plain, unassuming and average in all aspects. He recalled the day before, when the guitar had entered his life for the first time.
“Nao had been saving up for quite some time,” Masato Kudo said, handing it over to Rin. “I thought it was weird that he suddenly wanted a part-time job, but he worked at a place where there was a professional workshop to make and design a guitar.”
Masato sighed, closing his eyes. “He probably wanted to make it in time for your birthday but didn’t finish it in time. When I asked him about it, he told me he wanted to find the perfect moment to give it to you.”
“Since it was made for you, I thought I’d finish the job rather than have it sit at the back of the storage.”
“...Even if you don’t play it, I hope you’ll take it.”
A smile, sad and small, painted itself on Masato’s face. “It’s what Naoki would’ve wanted, lest he blame me, saying that all his hard work had gone to waste.”
Rin narrowed his eyes, his brows furrowed minutely, as if trying to stave off an oncoming headache.
Why couldn’t you have given it to me yourself? He closed his eyes. Idiot.
“C’mon, c’mon, lighten up! I’ll tell you what, I’ll teach you the guitar!” Naoki laughed, almost evil in nature. “Stop moping!”
“I’m not moping.”
“Don’t lie to me— you’re moping on the inside!”
Rin stood slowly and made his way over to the guitar once the wave of light-headedness had passed.
Perhaps it was selfish of him, cowardly of him, but he hadn’t opened it yet. Just looking at it made something stir within him, vaguely similar to anger, sadness, betrayal. A myriad of emotions that Rin didn’t even want to try and decipher.
Who was he mad at? What was he mad at?
Even Rin knew the answer to those questions.
This guitar, and the piano in the locked room – both were simply reminders of his oath, how he swore off music.
Why did you go through the trouble? Rin huffed. He had told him so. In the end, it was all for naught.
Although the air around him was kept at a constant, neither hot nor cold, he felt as if the temperature had dropped for some reason. Or at least, his skin felt heated against the air.
The extra information from Naoki’s dad helped Rin piece together the story, just a little bit better. Back then, he had thought that splinters and scratches on Naoki’s hands were abnormal. Strange considering Naoki’s attentiveness and care of his hands, afterall, they were hands that held his beloved violin.
In all honesty, Rin wasn’t surprised that Naoki would try to give him a guitar of all things. Even after Rin had said that he wouldn’t be associated with music ever again.
Giving him a guitar was a very Naoki thing to do, and so he didn’t know whether to laugh or scowl.
(At this point, he couldn’t even say he was mad at Naoki for blatantly trying to get him back into music. All he could feel is this hollow pit in his stomach.)
Naoki’s obvious efforts over the past few years didn’t faze Rin, although they were admittedly annoying at times. Similarly, Rin’s continuous refusal never deterred Naoki either. Rather, it invigorated his need. Rin would say that it was Naoki’s greatest desire – to bring Rin back to piano.
It wasn’t like Rin hated the piano anyway. He didn’t hate music.
He would listen to songs and classical pieces on the train, in the park, sometimes when he drew and painted. Music was a big part of his life, and just because he wasn’t involved in it anymore, didn’t mean it would go away immediately.
Back when Rin first stopped, Rin would lie down on his bed, thinking of a specific piece and run his fingers through the air, on an imaginary keyboard, hearing the phantom notes of sharps and flats, of scales and arpeggios, of octaves and chords.
He loved the piano. He probably still did. But playing it, feeling his hands glide across the black and white keys— it became painful. When no one was sitting in that chair, right beside him, listening along to the tune, it struck a chord in him every time, until Rin had felt the string snap.
Until Rin took his hands off and closed the lid for good. At first, it was a break from the instrument. But eventually, it became a permanent vow.
But at this moment, Rin felt a tiny part of him chant— if you would come back, I would play the piano. If you come back, I will play. I will play it for you. I swear I will.
That part of him yearned, ears sensitive to every noise around him. Just once more— let me hear the sound of your voice. Once more— let me hear the sound of your song.
Despite this, another part of Rin stayed frustratingly calm. It was times like these that Rin hated his composure, because a part of him twisted when he came near those black and white keys — bright and shiny, like the pearls of a clam, sparkling. The greed in him threatened to escape the moment he got too close, as if warning him to keep his promise.
“What were you thinking?” He murmured to himself, eyes lost, dry.
For some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to cry. He couldn’t bring himself to weep over this loss, nor could he go about his life and leave it be. It was like an itch that he couldn’t scratch – a word that fell short of his tongue.
But it felt like the world would weep for him. Rin liked to pretend that the rain was his tears, running down pale cheeks until they fell, drowning the world in sorrow. It felt like his heart would cry on his behalf, streaks of blood, blood and more blood, as his body broke down and started to protest, struggling beneath the grief.
On the floor, Rin held the guitar to his chest.
What were you thinking when you made this? Can you tell me? I know I said I didn’t care, but now, I want to know.
(What was it that made you take your own life? What were you feeling? What could I have done to make it better? Tell me, please.)
Would you have lived, then?
Unlike the crescent moon that he had often gazed at, seemingly speaking of answers and truths – the hidden sun in the sky didn’t offer any solace.
Even though it wasn’t cold, Rin couldn’t help but shiver. Even though his blood may still flow, his mind was frozen over, silent. Even though the melodies that used to flood his brain were never-ending, aggravating, especially when he didn’t want them— at a time like this when something, anything would’ve been better than nothing, empty, noiseless.
For a moment when the sounds that would accompany him with every move had vanished, Rin forgot how it felt like to breathe.
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Ring, ring, ring.
Obnoxious, his ears hissed. It wasn’t the sound they were looking for. Where was it?
A few rings was all it took for Rin to swiftly pick up his phone and answer the call, even though he had been in a daze mere moments before.
“...Hello?”
“Rin,” a familiar voice entered his ears, appeasing them, just a little.
But the concern laced in his name grated Rin’s ears. He had heard far too much of it to care for it, although he would appreciate the thought.
“Isogai,” Rin breathed in, then out. He sat straighter, still seated on the floor with the guitar in his grasp. “Is there something wrong?”
“I should be asking you that.” Isogai responded, hesitantly, “Nagisa called me and said you didn’t seem like yourself on Friday when you two met up… How are you doing?”
Rin narrowed his eyes. Maybe I’ve been a bit too careless. “Fine.” His answer was short, clipped.
Nagisa was always more observant than the rest of the class. Rin was naive to think that the blue-haired boy wouldn’t have caught on to anything.
“We both know that’s a lie.” Isogai’s face was clear in his mind. From the tone of his voice, Rin could picture his eyes – gentle eyes, compassionate and worried.
“Want to tell me what’s really going on?”
And boy, it was tempting. It really was.
There was always a microscopic part of Rin that thought, maybe this time it’s okay to share. Maybe this time, someone could help him ease this tension in his lungs, this pain in his throat.
But as always, the words that might’ve had the chance of being voiced were swallowed by unending, relentless regret. And Rin didn’t need to say those aloud. It was enough for him to keep it to himself.
Rin half-hoped that Isogai would just hang up, that the connection would be cut off, just to save him from the effort of searching for a suitable answer. However, Isogai was nothing if not patient, and Rin knew that they could be here for hours, even if he didn’t say a word.
He knew that the entire class was already past being polite. Although people were still considerate and sensitive to each other’s emotions, they weren’t afraid to poke and prod if it would end in a better result.
Well, having one person hound after him was better than having twenty.
Rin brushed stray strands of hair away from his face, spinning a strand of dyed blue in his hand. He chose to give away the minimum. To talk about what he did. Nothing too emotional— just facts. Formed from his rational decisions.
“I took a leave of absence from school.”
If it weren’t for how downright shitty he was feeling, Rin probably would’ve laughed at how subdued his voice sounded.
“...Why? Are you okay?”
Oh, the million dollar question. He knew that it was customary to ask that, but it wasn’t like anyone would actually spill their troubles and conflicting emotions just at that, right?
At least, Rin wouldn’t.
Instead, he clenched his jaw, deciding to spare his friend the awkwardness he knew people felt when they had to have a conversation like this. “Someone close to me passed away.”
“...I’m so sorry, it’s a sensitive topic yet I forced you into sharing it with me." You didn’t force me, Rin wanted to say, but the words withered at his throat.
“If you ever need to talk or need me to lend an ear—”
“Thanks,” Rin cut off, letting silence settle between them.
He didn’t mean to sound harsh. Was that why Isogai had stopped talking? Did he come off as angry?
He really didn’t mean to sound angry.
“Thanks.” He repeated softly, exhaling. “It’s just— I just— need some time to sort things out. It’s fine.”
As soon as his voice started to waver, Rin shut up, pressing his mouth into a thin line.
“...Do you need me to tell Nagisa to go over? He lives the closest afterall.”
Rin let a wry smile rest upon his lips. “If Nagisa lives close, then you may as well be on the moon.”
“Then Karma—”
“That devil would be on Mars. Now that I think about it, don’t you think it would suit him? His hair would match – I mean, I wonder if green skin would look good on him.” He mused. Perhaps a thought for another day.
“It’s not that far away,” Isogai insists, recovering splendidly from how he choked on a laugh. He coughed, clearing his throat to regain himself. “I can come over too! If you need some company.”
Rin felt a tinge of warmth through his cellphone. Instead of pushing it away and warding it off with ice, he allowed his eyes to relax, letting the heat start to thaw the layer of frost around his heart and thoughts.
What wonderful friends he had. He was glad he had them, truly.
Instead of saying that, he chuckled. A soft chiming noise that gave away his exhaustion, yet was still pleasant to the ear. The laugh seemed to make the male on the other side of the call pause.
“There’s no need to go that far, Iinchou,” loosening his upright shoulders and stiff neck, he let his head meet the wall of his bedroom with a soft thud. “I appreciate the sentiment though.”
“...Are you sure?”
“One hundred percent.”
“Then... I’ll let you have some rest. You sound tired, so get some sleep, okay? Sorry for disturbing you, you probably haven’t slept in days.” Rin’s former class president sounded sheepish, and Rin could imagine the boy’s apologetic smile.
“Nonsense,” Rin let out a huff, allowing a small smile to lift the corners of his lips, “talking with you is a welcomed break.”
A sigh sounded from the other end. “...You’re not even denying that you haven’t slept in days.”
If anyone heard Isogai as he was, they would probably think that his dog had ate his homework. Except, Isogai didn’t have a dog, and they weren’t talking about homework.
Why was that literally the only thing everyone would pick up on? Not even the fact that Rin was being abnormally soft and nice? Come on.
“Who knows?” Rin hummed nonchalantly, his facial muscles easing up to allow for a rare pout to show.
“You— just, take care of yourself.”
“When have I ever not?” Rin retorted instinctively.
“ ......... ”
Sensing something ominous, Rin hastily took back his words a little too quickly. “On second thought, don’t answer that."
Perhaps a little bit of panic bled into his tone, because Isogai laughed, that traitor. The former class president paused for a moment, as if he just thought of something, before continuing.
“Don’t be too mad at Nagisa though,” Rin hummed noncommittally. “He sounded really worried, so I wouldn’t be surprised if Karma or Kayano knew about this. So don't be too frightened if they end up breaking into your house again.”
Sure, Isogai meant it as a joke. But a certain sleep-deprived person knew otherwise.
That Satan spawn bastard— not on Rin’s watch.
“Thanks for the heads up. I’ll be sure to brandish my pitchfork.” Rin replied dryly. “I’ll live, probably.” He sniffed.
Another laugh, though, this time it sounded more like a chortle than a laugh. “You’ll live.” Isogai confirmed. “Careful with Nakamura though. She would have your head.”
Rin shivered inadvertently. “Don’t remind me,” he drawled.
“Get some sleep, I’ve kept you up long enough. Although it’s still the afternoon, you should probably take a nap, or at least get some fresh air.”
“I should,” Rin whole-heartedly agreed, “thanks for calling. I’ll talk to you later.”
“See you— remember to contact me if you ever need anything!”
As soon as he heard the familiar sound signifying that the call ended, Rin let out a sigh that seemed to unwrap a little of what was once so tightly wound around his heart. For a second, it felt like he could inhale and exhale naturally, without the stuttering of his heart, or the burn of his nerves.
However, the relief was short lived when the familiar walls of his room loomed, oppressing.
…Perhaps he’s spent a little too much time in his room, as Isogai had said. And what kind of classmate would he be if he didn’t listen to the class president’s advice?
Rin sat up. “Yeah… I’ll do that.” He muttered, changing into his favourite shirt, a crescent moon sweater that he got from Kayano for his birthday the year before, and loose black pants with a soft, comfortable belt.
Where should I go?
An art studio sounded appealing, but it was still enclosed. Maybe the park would be a good idea.
Anywhere but here, his mind started spinning again, even if a little slower than his usual, unaffected self. He needed a change of surroundings to clear his head.
Packing his things into his school bag was almost therapeutic. Rin should do this more often. His art pencil case, sketchbook, laptop, tablet, charger – what else?
Going through a mental checklist was calming in a way. Surprisingly so.
Scanning his room, his eyes landed on the guitar, his breath caught with it.
He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of it. And although he didn’t really want to touch it, leaving it at home out of sight didn’t sit right with him.
After a moment of standing there, simply looking at the thing, Rin grit his teeth and decided to take the guitar with him, slipping the weight on his shoulders. His fingers trembled, and RIn didn’t know if it was his fatigue or something else.
It’s light, he thought instead, trying to distract himself from the sensation of his limbs. Lighter than he expected. Rin always wondered if Naoki found it heavy to carry his guitar around with him everywhere. Now he guessed that he would experience himself, even if it was just for today.
Looking around his room, he grabbed another jacket, just in case. If only to please the voice of his mom in his head telling him to add another layer. He stuffed it in his bag, in addition to grabbing some random hair clips and ties he got from Nakamura and putting them in an inner pouch. His hair was at a length where it was possible to tie the hair from behind his ears up, away from his neck on a particularly hot day, the front wasn’t quite long enough, hence why he had the clips.
The patterns and decorations never really bothered him, especially when they did the job of keeping his hair away from casting a shadow over his sketchbook.
He put his headphones around his neck, checked that his phone, wallet and keys were with him before making his way to the full body mirror he had got from an antique shop a while back, edges vibrantly painted by him two months ago as part of an art project for the club.
Standing in front of the mirror itself was a funny ordeal. He looked so ridiculous, it was almost amazing. Keyword being almost.
To top it all off, he wore a black fabric facemask.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t a fashion statement. No. If only it was one.
It was September, nearly the flu season. Rin didn’t want to be catching a cold— he couldn’t afford to catch a cold. Especially with his luck.
With a final glance towards his reflection – his black hair obscuring the dyed blue from sight unless the wind had a hand in it, and his mask covering the majority of his face, highlighting his soft brown eyes.
Even with half his face covered, he still looked quite unwell.
Of course, Rin didn’t expect much from himself. Especially with his skin tinting an unnatural white, the darkened bags beneath his eyes spelling insomnia.
If mom saw me right now she would not be happy.
But oh well, nothing Rin could do about it anyway.
With a guitar on his back, his school bag held in one of his hands, headphones and phone in place, Rin turned away from the mirror and made his way to the door.
(If he wasn’t so out of it, he would’ve noticed how the glass of the mirror started to flood with a blackish green ink.
He would’ve noticed the way that something seemed to call to him, beckoning him over.)
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Putting on the black and blue accented trainers was supposed to be an easy feat – the stuff he was carrying hindered his movement a little, but Rin was flexible. He adjusted his balance and stayed still until he was satisfied with the security of his laces. Standing up straight, he looked at a photo frame on top of the shelf.
Dark hair, familiar smile – light grey eyes that seemed to encompass the world.
“I’ll be off, dad.”
And with that, he left his apartment, locking the door once he stepped outside.
Before going into the elevator, Rin took out his phone and quickly opened his chats to send Nagisa a message, thanking the blue-haired boy for worrying about him.
Only when he made it out of the elevator and his apartment complex, did he notice the late afternoon sun shining blindingly on everyone in the street. Usually he would’ve brought an umbrella out, or maybe worn a hat at least. But today, Rin supposed it was fine. Some sunlight would do him good, wouldn’t it?
(“Photosynthesis! That’s it! Rin, you’re photosynthesising, aren’t you?”
“Is that really your conclusion?”
“What if it is? Is there something else that Rin Hattori, the mysterious music prodigy, has to say about biology?” A smile stretched across that face, dimples forming on his cheeks.
Rin sighed but couldn’t fight the smile off his face. “Then, does vitamin D ring a bell?” He played along.
“Nope! Vitamin D? Who’s she? A new composer? A member of the orchestra?”
Rin sighed, giving Naoki a look of exasperation. “The orchestra of nutrition— sure.”
Naoki made a face at the word, as if having war flashbacks.
“I’m surprised that you don’t need to take any supplementary classes for biology.” Rin chuckled, amused.
“How rude, RinRin, I’ll have you know that I’m passing with flying marks!”
“More like passing by the skin of your teeth.” Rin grumbled.)
Just as he stepped onto the stone side-walk to head towards the nearby park, he snapped out of reminiscing when he heard the clippity cloppity sounds of horse hooves. Turning his head around, he was met with the sight of a black carriage rushing on the street, a pair of intimidating black horses leading it with huffs and puffs.
A horse carriage?
Rin immediately felt something was off. He backed away from the edge of the street, looking around to see if anyone else was finding the appearance strange.
Nothing. No weird stares, eyes widened in shock or confusion – nothing.
No one else was noticing the carriage.
He rubbed his eyes, blinking away the stars that entered his vision. Am I hallucinating? He had to be, right?
Before he knew it, the carriage stopped right in front of him, opening the door to a black void, ominous and fear-instilling.
Rather than striking terror in Rin’s heart, all Rin was trying to do was fight off the sudden crash of sleepiness, of black spots clouding his vision, of weakness in his arms and legs. Paralysis. Until finally – darkness.
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Sleep didn’t come easy for Rin, so even as he was losing consciousness, he could hear something whisper in his ear, making his skin tingle, hair stand up in alarm.
—Ahh… my dearest beloved.
—A lovely, noble flower of evil.
Rin wanted to move his hands, to open his eyes. To do something, anything.
What was going on? Who was talking to him?
A ‘flower of evil’? Him?
Was this another kidnapping?
—Truly, it is you who is the fairest of them all!
Rin’s mind was muddled, as if he was drugged. His lungs burned, a familiar feeling, like the gas on an island way back when – his memories resurfacing, of a duel of tricks, wasabi and mustard.
—Mirror mirror, on the wall. Tell me, who is the……
The sound of wood creaked. He was really on that carriage, wasn’t he? The one he saw before fainting.
Really, he needed to stop doing that.
Focusing a little, Rin could hear the faint sounds of hooves crunching on dry leaves, of ghostly wind blowing by, twigs snapping and bending beneath the coach he was in.
—O, thou who hast been guided by the Mirror of Darkness.
—Let thy heart’s desire reflect in the mirror and take thee by the hand…
What was this about desires and mirrors? Rin thought that maybe it would’ve been easier to just get hit by a truck and isekai’d to another world than to deal with this crypticness.
—For me.
—For them.
—For you.
The voice was eerie, dark. It sent chills down Rin’s spine, something he definitely didn’t appreciate.
Who?
—We are all running out of time.
As if a spell was cast on him, Rin, who had been able to hear his surroundings for a brief window of time, felt the noise start to muffle. As if it was just a figment of his imagination, he slipped into slumber.
—No matter what, never let go of thy hand.
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Yuuma Isogai breathed a sigh as he hung up on the call. Staring at the contact on his phone screen, he couldn’t help but feel a seed of worry rooted in his chest.
Rin is always like that. He told himself, reminded himself.
He doesn’t look for help, even when he’s having a hard time.
None of the class took it personally. They knew Rin’s personality and the way he did things. Everyone knew how to bypass that seemingly nonchalant exterior to get to that shining, considerate person that Rin was.
No. Yuuma knew that it was a sensitive, and painful , topic for Rin. Thinking back on the conversation, he definitely didn’t handle it well either.
Rin may say that he’s unaffected. And to most, he may look unbothered. But even Yuuma could tell something was wrong. Especially after Nagisa had tipped him off.
Should he be glad that Nagisa was the one to see Rin on Friday?
If it weren’t Nagisa— if it were Yuuma— would he have been easily fooled by Rin into thinking that the boy was fine?
He would notice, wouldn’t he? If his friend was feeling off, or having a tough time.
Calming himself from straying thoughts, he methodically sent some texts to a few people.
Sorry, Rin.
Distressed. That is what Yuuma would say is the best word to describe Rin as of the present. Agitated could be another. The person in question would deny it of course.
But I can’t let you leave yourself alone.
It was fine if Rin got mad at him afterwards. Yuuma would say he deserved it. But to sit in his room, half-way across Japan from his friend who said they wanted to be left alone? He wouldn’t stand for it, especially if Rin said that he wanted to be left alone.
Why couldn’t he be honest with them?
Seeing that his texts were answered almost immediately, he knew that the others shared the same heart.
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