it’s strange what time does to a persons perception of a memory. did he just image Kyouko’s had a dimple when he smiled just right? did he make up the way hand hands moved, graceful even when just fixing stray hairs? 

Does the cold metal armor of Kyouko’s uniform hide away these soft touches? 

Ryou would love to say that. in these 5 years he would never forget Kyouko, would instantly know him, across the fields of Gronder.

But the metallic shape, soaring high and glimmering, striking his troops down with arrows is almost unrecognizable to him. He barely remembers the rumors of the dashing young kings armor. Of the pale wyvern he rides expertly. it must be Kyouko, for the way he dances across the sky is wholly beautiful. 

And. in that moment. singular and peaceful, he sees Kyouko dive. He sees the helmet lift. He sees Kyouko’s eyes and. everything slows down. Like torture. Like a spell gone wrong. 

His heart beats. The same eyes. The same softness, hidden under a streak of blood splatter. They see him too. They recognize him. 

He’s lost his breath, his spells are gone from his grip. Kyouko’s wyvern has landed in a cleared battle, and the space between them stretches, perfect to be walked across. 

He. needs to see him. 

Ryou steps forward. Away from position, breaking flank, he needs to see him.

He barely hears his sister’s strangled cry.

—

In that moment, Kyouko’s eyes refuse to see what’s in front of him. His body tenses, he feels his muscle twitch, shake barely. He can hear the blood rushing through his ears. Blood rushing on his hand. 

Kyouko recognizes Hikaru’s scream first— despite their fights he understood her devotion too well. She cries for her lady, who seems to be screaming in even more anger than before. He didn’t think that was quite possible. Why.. would it be?

His eyes choose then to focus, the blood rushing louder before, his own breath louder, his shaking Stronger.

Blood stains spreading throughout Ryouichi’s robe. It’s a lance, punctured straight through him. He’s still standing.

He steps forward, once. Face looking at Kyouko. He looks so at peace. He’s smiling at him. 

Kyouko doesn’t even realize he’s half way across the field until Ryoutan finally falls. 

He doesn’t recognize the hands trying to tear him back, all he sees is Ryou’s hair, long, tangled in the mud. He sees Ryou’s blood. Feels it soak into his skin. He barely registers how Setsuna shrieks obscenities at him, all he can see is his shaking hands desperately trying to stop the bleeding.

He keeps begging Ryouichi to stay. He doesn’t want to repeat those five years away. His tears feel warmer than the rapidly cooling blood.

The icy wind isn’t as cold as the dread he feels when Ryou’s eyes close.

—-

When Ryouichi was 12, his mom went about her way to arrange a marriage.

He’s twelve again, he realizes. His mom. She’s... here.

“My precious boy... The young prince has decided he wants to make his own romantic fortunes...” Tsukki’s eyes glimmer, as they always have, even in her frustrations. She leans back against her seat, looking him over.

Ryou tries not to feel disappointed. 

“I’m... sure that’s what everyone wants.” Ryou says, wincing about how high pitched his tone is. “I hope the prince can be happy... and that we can be friends.”

“It’s okay to wish for things, my love”

Ryou looks surprise at his mother, her face soft and tender. 

“Stop worrying about others. Chase after what you want too, remember?”

—

Kyouko tears had only escalated when he saw Ciaràn, armored, astride his horse. The sun served as his personal halo, and Kyouko could have worshipped at his steed’s feet as he begged for Ciaràn to do something.

Surely if any one could do it, he could.

—

“You always tell me to go after my desires, so you should too!”

Ryou looks around. A New memory. He thinks. His uniform is back. He forgot the comforts of his school hoodie.

“Please. Think of yourself of once too.”

He looks up. Sees the glinting horns of the headpiece. Sees the lovely layers of robe and fabric and skirt. Suffocation, even if it is a comforting one.

Ciaràn. He did visit him often too. Ah, he should be speaking.

“What?”

Brilliant. Positive, a word smith as always. Why are you so confused?

“I just thought. Since. You also seemed so tied up with your sister and the monastery and the plants, that you should have a fun day too, Ryouichi”

He blinks at him then. Ciaràn was always too nice.

“Ah... Really, I owe Setsuna at this point... and the flowers need me... and they need help at the infirmary... and the stu—“

“I think Setsuna wants you to be happy. I think we all do, Ryouichi”

—

Ryouichi breathes harshly went he sleeps. In pain, a lot. Nightmares too, most likely. He hasn’t changed, even with the new lengths of hair, and the sudden wardrobe reshuffle. 

Ciaràn said that the magic couldn’t recover everything. Cried, along with Kyouko, kneeled at the bedside. A Prayer. Setsuna refuses to visit, drinks herself to a stupor in her room. 

Hikaru watches from the door sometimes. Sobs.

Kyouko hasn’t even left to eat. Ciaràn bring him food on the way to Lieber. Kyouko thanks him, eats with one hand.

The other always is on Ryou, in a way.

He sits, tense on the seat. He feels like he’s grinded his teeth to stumps, feels like he’s strung tightly as his perfectly refined bow string.

He holds Ryou’s hand often, marvels ar the softness. He aches for Ryou to squeeze him back. He aches to hear a soft voice.

He aches to say what he needs. He knows that a future without Ryouichi is one most likely not worth living.

He prays, silently, despite himself to whoever is listening. Begs them to bring Ryou safe. 

The only one who answers is Ciaràn, who exhausts his magic with the two under his care. 

Kyouko knew he should’ve paid more attention to Caramel’s lectures 

—

Ryou wanders alone here a lot. The darkness swirls with him, he thinks. It’s not too cold here. He sees his mom, as she pushes him out into the world. He sees his friends, as they were 5 years ago. He comforts his sister’s guilt.

He searches for Kyouko, unable to grasp him.

“You know where you have to go, little moon”

His mom always knew how to get people where she needed them. Wanted them. Where they wanted to go too

“The memories won’t hold a candle to the real thing. I’ll see you in your dreams, my little moon”

Ryou can only catch a glimpse of his mother, her smile illuminating the darkness, as he sinks through.

—-

Kyouko is holding his hand again.

Ciaràn told him to get some rest, lest he be the next in a long line of patients in his care, but Kyouko keeps wondering if he can ever leave Ryou to wake up alone. He doesn’t think he can bear to be away from Ryou’s side again. He’ll be a lord in waiting if he must, a retainer, a prisoner to Setsuna’s whims if he can. Just. Stay

He doesn’t realize there’s a pressure on his hand for a few moments.  

Then everything pulls into focus.

The pulse is stronger. Ryou’s hands softly squeeze him back.

And in the sunshine, the dust motes form tiny constellations that shine in Ryoutans open eyes.

“Ah... I knew i’d find you here...”

Kyouko’s tears fall without sounds. He finally feels able to smile.

As he presses their foreheads together, he can feel the hotness of Ryous face. He can feel the sun shining down at them.

He whispers softly to Ryou, about the things they’ve always wanted.