Hands, fingers. Tangled. Palms touching, skin warm and flush. His body 
		is beside yours, free hand resting on his chest, rising and falling with 
		motion slight yet mesmerizing. You can't take your eyes off him. If you 
		do, he may stop breathing.
		
		Your hands sweat. You don't let go.
		
		Your head, against the pillow, strands of hair plastered to your cheek 
		with sweat. His fingers nestled into the dips between your own.
		
		His body is so close, his mind far away. You wonder what it would be 
		like, to see what he sees, to hear the things he can hear. To have the 
		tender presence of another heart inside you. Your own heart skips a beat 
		at the thought. There is already so much bubbling away inside you that 
		you may well burst.
		
		You can see the physical remnants of this otherness, through the thin 
		peek at his belly between his shorts and raised shirt. The careful line 
		cutting across his hip, where his skin is markedly darker, mimicking the 
		natural curves of color splashed across Yubel's old body. He's been able 
		to explain it away as a birthmark - so, too, with his chest, where the 
		pigment curves so delicately over one shoulder. You suppose it could be 
		called a birthmark, though it wasn't his to begin with.
		
		Your mind wanders, lazily. Fleeting memories and thoughts, mostly 
		unpleasant. Decisions you regret. Unflattering senses of the self. But 
		Jaden's hand is weighty and soft in your own, and you let these thoughts 
		bubble and boil away, shutting your eyes gently. You are so very tired.
		
		He's tired, too. He has healed from wounds deeper than anyone should 
		ever have to receive but he'll never completely forget them. He smiles 
		cordially, he is pleasant to those around him, he even laughs. He makes 
		love to you and he means it when he does but there are many days where 
		he simply can't bring himself to leave his bed. On days such as this you 
		lie with him, fingers stroking over his hair for hours and hours, as 
		long as he may need you.
		
		Today has been kind so far. He kissed you upon waking, and the two of 
		you made breakfast in your small, cramped kitchen, backs together while 
		alternating tasks. Eggs, toasted bread. The sounds of faraway birds and 
		scraping pans. It's not unusual for you two to go hours without speaking 
		these days, so the soundtrack of your life is mostly ambient. 
		
		On the few occasions when the two of you go into town together, Jaden's 
		hand is like a vice in your own, his shoulder pressed hard against your 
		own. You have to admit that this lifestyle has turned you into quite a 
		similar animal; when employees in the grocery store ask how you are, you 
		look at the floor and mumble something quickly to escape their gaze. You 
		flinch when you receive your change and you wash your hands hard when 
		you get home until your skin is tinged with the pleasant smells of your 
		own space. 
		
		He doesn't like to speak in public anymore. It's a sharp contrast from 
		when you met him all those years ago, when he'd bounded across the room 
		to shake your hand and introduce himself, when everyone he met was 
		simply a friend he hadn't made yet. It isn't so much that his 
		personality has changed. He just simply doesn't have the energy anymore 
		for such superficial things.
		
		His friends are still in contact, though somewhat sparingly. That's 
		okay, though. They all have their own lives to lead, just as you do, and 
		you catch small glimpses over the phone when Jaden receives calls every 
		month or so.
		
		Asuka is doing well - last you heard, she was pursuing teaching, or 
		maybe it was some sort of tutoring. She's as warm and confident as ever, 
		though her calls have been coming less and less frequently. You think 
		she'll stop calling after another year or so. Neither of you blame her. 
		There are just some things she doesn't have any concept of, and that's 
		okay. 
		
		Sho still visits in person every once in a while. He makes the effort to 
		do it, even when he's uncomfortable - you know he gets sick to his 
		stomach when he sees Jaden stuck in bed like some kind of hermit. You 
		try to text him on the days when Jaden is feeling particularly 
		energetic, and he'll make the drive - two hours one way - and the three 
		of you will talk for a while, about things of very little substance, 
		because anything deeper would crack open this thin layer of pleasant 
		domesticity that you have all worked so very hard to achieve.
		
		Sho always pulls you aside before he leaves, and he thanks you. You know 
		that he loves Jaden more than words can say, but it takes all his 
		willpower to come see him in this state. You understand. It is hard, 
		sometimes. But you smile and you tell him that you'll always be here. It 
		eases his heartache, his guilt. He passes on well wishes from Kenzan, 
		who passes on well wishes from Jim, and he excuses himself before he 
		hits his limit.
		
		Manjoume, surprisingly, is the one who visits the most often. He shows 
		up unannounced, whenever it suits him, or whenever he needs advice. You 
		often leave the two of them alone; even to this day, he's sensitive 
		about asking for help. But you're grateful to have him. When he's 
		around, Jaden almost seems like his old self again - you hear muffled 
		laughter and shouting, antics reminiscent of the days when they would 
		pit themselves head-to-head as if it were the most important thing in 
		the world.
		
		Jaden's overwhelming tiredness doesn't bother him. He doesn't feel sorry 
		for him. He sits on the edge of Jaden's bed and pokes fun at his 
		mix-matched eyes, the way his old clothes hang so loosely off his figure 
		now. His words are harsh but Jaden just laughs, laughs harder than 
		you've heard in ages until his whole body is shaking. Jaden's words are 
		just as sharp, asking Manjoume if hating yourself is the secret to 
		getting ahead in the business world, and Manjoume has to laugh, even if 
		he doesn't want to. 
		
		Manjoume's visits always end at the kitchen table. In all these years 
		he's never forgotten his deck once. They'll play in silence. Their cards 
		are worn and faded, ink barely legible, but it doesn't matter. They know 
		every move the other can make by now.
		
		Jaden nearly always wins, but sometimes, Manjoume will flip a card and 
		Jaden will blink, look down at his own field, and smile. He thanks him 
		for a good game and they shake hands, touch lingering, before Manjoume 
		pulls him into a hug. He always hesitates to do it but never once has he 
		thought better of it. 
		
		You glance over at Jaden once more, slowly pulling yourself out of this 
		whirlwind of thoughts. His eyes are closed now, his breathing slower. 
		He's fallen asleep. You slowly detangle your fingers from his, your 
		joints creaking. 
		
		You turn to lie on your side, eyes alighting on Jaden's sleeping body. 
		There's the smallest hint of a smile on his lips. You smile, too. You 
		slowly let your eyes close, and it isn't long before you slip under, 
		letting the pleasant, quiet darkness lull you to sleep beside him. Not 
		many people could live like this. But for you, it's perfect.
		
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		back to shrine