Work Text:
(Before the Mirror broke.)
Rain flooded the pavement like spilled ink, curling in storm drains and pooling at the curb. It was a miserable kind of morning, the kind that stuck to your bones and made the whole world feel soggy and grey.
Ren sat alone under the rusted bike shade behind the school. Hood half-on, cheeks wet from rain or humidity or maybe something else. His bag lay somewhere near his feet, unopened. His fingers curled loosely around one of the straps.
He wasn’t really hiding. But no one was looking for him either.
People thought Ren skipped school because he was lazy. Or stupid. Or already too far gone to care. That was the reputation. That was the story they whispered when he didn’t show up to class for the third time in a week. What they didn’t know was: he had never really tried. He didn’t need to. Tests were easy. Assignments got done during lunch. Teachers didn’t like him, but they never had a reason to fail him.
He just didn’t want to be there.
Especially today.
Footsteps stomped through the slush. Heavy and fast.
Ren didn’t look up. He already knew who it was.
“The fuck are you doing here, jackass?”
Noé’s voice was sharp, the usual blend of irritation and exasperated concern that he always pretended wasn’t concern. He wore his uniform like a soldier, tie tight, gloves on, boots muddy.
Ren blinked slowly. “Sitting.”
Noé stood in front of him like a brick wall, hands on his hips, dripping wet from the rain. “In the rain. Again. You know school started, right?”
“I know.”
“…Then why the hell aren’t you there?”
Ren shrugged. It was barely a movement. More like a twitch.
“Why aren’t you?” Ren shot back, glancing over his shoulder at the intruder in his bubble of self-isolation. But he answered Noé’s question before the other boy could even think of a retort. “I dunno. I just-” He swallowed. “Don’t care.”
Something changed in Noé’s face. Just for a second.
He saw it then - how Ren’s shoulders slouched in a way that wasn’t lazy, but heavy. How his eyes weren’t cloudy, they were just… far away. How he wasn’t smirking or teasing or even present. Just sitting there. In the rain. Like a puppet with the strings cut.
Noé’s voice softened, barely above the storm.
“…Are you okay?”
Ren turned his head slightly, just enough to be seen. His smile was too tired to be fake.
“No.”
Noé stared at him. And then - abruptly, irrationally - his hands balled into fists.
“God, you’re so-”
CRACK.
His fist collided with Ren’s gut. Not too hard - although sometimes Ren’s body was more fragile than he expected - just enough to say wake up, dammit.
Ren choked, a look of mild surprise on his face. He fell out of his crouch and back onto the concrete floor of the bike shelter. He stared up at Noé, eyes wide, face warm; he didn’t even blink.
And that pissed Noé off even more.
“You can’t just give up! You aren’t allowed to sit there like some drenched sad cat and say you don’t care! That isn’t-” His voice cracked; he started again like it hadn’t happened. Ren let him pretend. “That isn’t fucking fair, Ren!”
“I didn’t ask you to care,” Ren mumbled hoarsely, wheezing slightly.
“Well that’s too damn bad!” Noé yelled.
They both went quiet.
Rain hammered the metal roof above them. The silence between them buzzed with everything unsaid.
Ren spoke first, a small pout on his face. “Miss Lyra wants me to join an extracurricular for chemistry.”
Noé breathed out hard through his nose.
“I don’t care about your grades,” he muttered. “I care that you’re here, under a bike shed, soaking wet, saying you don’t care if you disappear.”
Ren closed his eyes. “I wouldn’t disappear.”
“…Yeah you would,” Noé said, voice barely audible. “You already do.”
A beat. The rain beat down on the tin roof. But suddenly, Ren could barely hear it. Everything sounded like it was underwater, like his ears were clogged.
He didn’t hear when Noé said something again, it probably didn’t matter anyway. But for some reason, he found himself wishing he’d listened, if only to hear the other boy’s voice. After what felt like hours and seconds all at once, Noé sighed and crouched beside him, pulling his own jacket over both their heads like a makeshift tent. It wasn’t helpful. They were both already drenched. But it was something.
“You’re a real pain in the ass,” Noé mumbled.
Ren leaned against his shoulder.
“I know.”
Noé’s jacket was doing a piss-poor job of keeping either of them dry, but Ren hadn’t moved. He leaned against Noé like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like Noé wasn’t currently steaming with frustration and grumbling about his wet socks.
They sat like that for a moment. The storm had quieted, but the air still buzzed with leftover tension.
Then Ren sighed, long and exaggerated, tilting his head back dramatically.
“Ah… y’know…” he said wistfully, “Mon amour is so lucky~”
Noé stiffened. “What.”
Ren didn’t look at him. His tone was airy and mock-dreamy. “You must be living the dream.”
Noé’s eye twitched. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Ren finally looked at him, eyes glinting under wet lashes. “I mean, sure, you’re dumb as bricks and probably have worms for thoughts, but at least you’re present. You know? You try. It’s cute.”
“Excuse me?”
Ren giggled, soft and breathy, like he couldn’t help it. “Don’t worry, Mon Noé~ I meant it in a nice way.”
“You never said anything in a nice way, asshole! And stop calling me that!!”
“I just said something in a nice way.”
“You-!” Noé clamped his mouth shut, clearly struggling between yelling at him again or throwing him over his shoulder and depositing him directly into class.
Ren smiled wider.
And Noé, despite himself, felt his frustration melt just a little. Not all the way. Just enough that the corner of his mouth twitched.
“…Get up,” he muttered, standing. “You’re gonna catch pneumonia or whatever.”
Ren groaned like it was the worst request in the world. “But it’s wet.”
“You’re already wet.”
“Exactly. It can’t get worse.”
Noé grabbed Ren by the sleeve and hauled him to his feet. “I swear to god, Ren- ”
Ren stumbled forward and leaned dramatically on Noé’s shoulder like some Victorian ghost boy. “Protect me, Noodle boy~”
Noé shoved him off. “I will drown you in this rain, don’t test me.”
“Aw, you do care~”
Noé didn’t respond. But his grip on Ren’s wrist stayed gentle as he dragged him through the puddles toward the school building.
By the time they reached the street, the rain had thinned to a whispering drizzle. Noé didn’t release Ren’s sleeve until the school gates were far behind them.
Ren tilted his head toward him, a sly half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Skipping with me now? Tsk.”
Noé exhaled through his nose, a low rumble of frustration. “I’m not dragging you to class like this. Come on - we’re going to your grandma’s tea house. You need warmth. And tea. Maybe a brain transplant.”
Ren let himself be tugged along, water squelching in his shoes. “Romantic.”
The bell over the door chimed as they stepped into the warmth of Ren’s grandmother’s tea shop. The air smelled of toasted oolong and sweet smoke.
Basteth was sprawled behind the bar like he owned the place, a polishing cloth in one hand and a theatrical scowl on his face. Warm amber lantern light caught in his pale curls and the glint of a single ear cuff. He was wearing one of those frilly maid outfits that he always wore when he worked in Nan's Tea House for some reason. No one forced him to, or even asked him to, he just decided he wanted to.
“Well, well,” he said, drawing out each word like a taunt, his words slightly crooked. “If it isn’t my favorite delinquent hermanito and his ever-dutiful knight. School finally… eh…how you say… fall down from charm?”
Ren slid onto a stool and rested his chin on his palm. “Hi, Basteth.”
“That’s it? No grand excuse? No dramatic confession of truancy?” Basteth gasped, clutching his chest as though mortally wounded. “You wound me.”
Renee, perched elegantly on a nearby stool, didn’t even look up from her phone. Her forest-green hair gleamed under the lantern light, amber eyes catching on Basteth only long enough to deliver a single, clipped remark.
“Maybe clean something while you perform.”
Basteth froze mid-flourish. “…ah…yes ma’am.”
He grabbed a teacup and began wiping it with exaggerated precision, shooting Ren a wink when Renee’s gaze dropped again.
“You see what I endure for love?” Basteth sighed loudly. “Oppression. Pure oppression.”
Ren snorted. “Tragic.”
“Ne, you learn from my suffering,” Basteth went on, “Fall in love, get scold every day, become a better man. It’s a character build.”
“Get scolded, past tense.” Renee corrected, eyes never leaving her phone.
Basteth made a face. “Yes, yes. Scold, get scolded, will be scolded, es todo lo mismo, all the same.”
Noé set his damp jacket over the back of a chair and arched an eyebrow. “You don’t look very built.”
“Rude,” Basteth said, unfazed. “You, however, look like, eh…borrowed cat with tears from the sky.* Tea?”
Before Noé could answer, Basteth was already bustling around the bar with unnecessary flair - teapot spinning in his hands, rag tossed dramatically over one shoulder. Steam curled through the air like a slow dance, warm and fragrant.
Ren watched the show with a faint smile, the rain outside reduced to a soft percussion against the paper windows. For the first time all morning, the weight in his chest loosened.