S'éteindre

oOo

He obviously hadn't been thinking when he'd asked this.

"…Your legs… further apart," Naoji's breath blew past his ear and caressed his cheek, and Eduard felt the guiding pressure of hands on his hips settle there to shift them. He drew in a shaky breath and obeyed, spreading his feet further apart in the grass and keeping his eye trained on the target. Naoji's hands slid below his elbow to form his arms into the proper positions, the cool touch drawing a shiver from Ed's tanned skin, and he had to force himself to breathe normally.

No, he obviously hadn't been thinking when he'd asked Naoji if he could try this for himself. He hadn't been thinking ahead— though it wasn't his fault, he'd expected ever-shy-of-contact and proper Naoji to give him instructions from afar, maybe one or two demonstrations, but not… not this. Not his semi-clothed chest pressed against his bare back, because they'd decided it'd be more comfortable if he took his shirt off, so that Ed could feel the tantalizing roughness of the cloth laugh over his skin, and the sometimes ghosting touches of Naoji's bare chest that mocked the hollow of his back,. Not the breath blowing slowly and rhythmically across the nape of his neck and occasionally dislodging a strand of hair from behind Ed's ear forward to his face. Not his fingers gliding along his palm and curving it around the wood, nor the soft, clipped voice that gently corrected him, as if mindful that he was a porcelain cup.

Naoji ran firm fingers down Ed's back in a straight line, and then the guiding hands on his arms trailed past his sides, making his stomach tighten in excitement and nervousness, and were replaced on his hips, adjusting him slightly to the side. The position was foreign, quite literally, Ed mused, and rather uncomfortable.

"Uncomfortable?" Naoji whispered, echoing his thoughts, and Ed was warmed by the hint of knowing amusement behind his voice.

He'd never heard Naoji like this.

His normally demure voice held a degree of certainty and authority Ed was unused to hearing. Experience was domination, it seemed. It was only to be expected, Ed reasoned, but it still made him pause to take in the calm confidence with which he spoke and guided all of Ed's movements. Confidence he could not mistake for intimacy, but it was so hard at the moment, with his shoulder blades cocooned by Naoji's chest, his body cradled by pale, white-sleeved arms that bent it to their will. Naoji was in his element, this was his field of authority, over every one else. These were his waters Ed was treading.

It was what probably had struck Eduard the first time he saw Naoji practice his kyudo. The way all his moves were pure, graceful poise. It was a different sort of grace from that of Orphe's fluid fencing, this was brimming energy brought under an unwavering cage of control, and the fluidity was all below surface, in the way his muscles tensed and shifted, the way his body trembled from head to toe as he stood waiting for a divine sign to release his arrow, and all his movements were completely deliberate and full of self-assurance. It was a strange mix between watching a panther prowl dangerously in a cage and watching a swan dip its head in the water.

Completely opposite of Ed, who lived by impulse and unhindered release of his energy, in whom nothing was deliberate or contained, and who held no poise. His was the unbridled energy of a lion cub.

"Focus, let your body and mind conjoin. You must have harmony within you," Naoji spoke, his breath withdrawing like a lingering lover's touch must in the end, and Ed already missed it. It was so much easier to watch than to do, he realized, because his skin was trembling slightly, not with effort yet, but with exhilaration at the nearly nonexistent distance between them, and that could hardly count as harmony and peace. He reigned in his quickened breath, closed his eyes, and breathed in deeply, trying to forget there was a dark-haired, dark-eyed presence behind him, like a moonlit ghost. Breathless seconds passed, and Ed wasn't sure if his increased awareness of Naoji's slow breathing, even further away, was due to him or if it was Naoji's subtle reminder to take a breath himself, because it was currently locked up in the twisting maze of his entrails. In the darkness of his mind, all he felt was the warmth wandering against his bare back, heating his insides and pressuring his chest more than was possible from just a physical cause. The flittering fingers on his arms, and the trailing breathing on his neck made him feel dizzy and blank as the sensation rose in his stomach. He tried to suppress a shudder, lest Naoji sense it.

He was held there for what seemed like forever, until finally his body had no option but to slack, and the constant sensation behind him seemed to fade out and he was finally able to focus on the wooden bow in his hands, the rough feel of the glove on his right hand and the uncomfortable tension between his legs from his awkward position. The wind stirred the leaves in the air, rushing noisily, two diaphanous ribbons fluttering into his vision before he felt the hasty bump of an elbow against his back , and they were reigned in. Then Naoji resumed his confident lead, and the warm breath came back to taunt his earlobe.

"Tightly," the tips of pale fingers pressed down on his tanned hands, forcing his grip to tighten, "If you lose control, it's all over," he said as he wrapped Ed's left fingers around the grip of the bow and set his gloved right hand so that the string sank into place at the groove. The glove was strange, and he could feel the thickness of the string even through the hardened part of the thumb, "Set it," was said in his ear, and he fumbled slightly with holding the arrow's tip in his left hand and setting the notch to slip into place onto the string, unused to the bulk of the glove. He ascertained it was parallel to the ground, as he'd seen Naoji do all the times he'd watched him, "Now look at your target."

Ed did, lifting his eyes to the mato, forcing himself to focus on the center. The pale hands slid from his wrists down to his elbow, lifting them until he was raising the impossibly tall bow high above his head, and though it wasn't particularly heavy, it was awkward and he felt like he had no control, his tense muscles unused to the position. It struck him to realize it was much like his life—he felt like it was always spiraling out of his control, like he was a pawn in a game of chess played by his step-mother and someone who laughed at him as they watched him flounder about trying to find a place in life. He'd always felt that, like no matter what he did, he would never be able to achieve what he wanted, that there was something stopping him from accomplishing his goals, something holding him back from freedom and acceptance, and love… and no matter what he did, it was out of his control.

"Eduard…" Naoji's voice was a gently scolding reminder, and he swallowed thickly as he realized he'd become distracted, and small tremors ran through his forearms from the uncomfortable position.

"…Sorry," he murmured back, quickly refocusing and closing his eyes to shake off his thoughts. Naoji seemed to allow him this one slip-up, because he lifted his arms just a fraction more.

"Now draw half-way. Push with your left hand mainly at this point."

Ed did, his whole body tensing as his arms lowered as they bent to pull the taut string, his fingers almost losing their hold at one point. His breath caught in his throat, and he gritted his teeth as Naoji's brief touch signaled him to continue drawing, and he'd seen him do it enough times to know his hand was to barely graze his cheekbone. He almost gasped at the effort it took, his shoulder blade twisted painfully into his back, feeling like he was pulling apart a steel spring. His whole body was shaking violently to hold the position enough to focus on the target and make a slip-shod aim and—

TWANG

The arrow was violently released to spiral away into the bushes, and the bow spun out of his hands to land with a muted clatter on the ground. His body collapsed as the tension snapped like a gunshot, and he was vaguely aware of Naoji's arms encircling him to lower him gently to the ground, where he sat dazedly replaying the trajectory of the arrow in his mind over and over again.

Out of control. Like his life. And yet… somehow the sight of the arrow spiraling away alleviated him, like it was taking all his problems with it. Like it was offering a chance to amend. Out of control, but it had felt good to let it go and watch it leave him. Somehow, in his mind the arrow was an analogy for his life, and if he learned to control the arrow…

"Ed!" Naoji's rough shake brought him sharply back to reality, and he realized he was drowning in his breathing, hanging limply on Naoji. He tried to raise a hand to brush his sweaty bangs from his face, but his body felt like jelly, as if he'd pulled apart and liquefied all the muscles in his body with that last stunt.

"I-I'm…" sorry, "That was—" a horrible shot, he tried to say, but his breath was tumbling out of him, and he couldn't seem to get enough back in to prevent the sudden lightheadedness that attacked him. He was dimly aware of his body screaming in protest as his muscles shifted back to their former positions, and his cheek stung, and why was his forehead burning? He opened eyes he hadn't realized he'd closed, only to be rewarded with the view of Naoji's chest, and that was when he figured out that he was resting his forehead on Naoji's collarbone, and the scalding heat was dizzying, but he couldn't muster the strength to move. He absently looked at the pocket that Naoji's clothes formed when he sat down, regaling him with a complete view of his torso, all the way to the endless horizon where his sides curved away to his lower back, but right underneath him was the neat dip of his belly button, and further view lower was blocked by the sash of cloth that wrapped around the pale, well-muscled abdomen.

He hadn't realized his hand was pressed against Naoji's chest until pale fingers brushed against it, almost making him jerk in surprise, and reached into that little pocket formed by the loose clothes and withdrew a handkerchief tucked away against Naoji's side.

"Ed…" Naoji slid his cool fingers along Ed's shoulders, pushing him back gently, and Ed somehow managed to find enough control in his body to sit up properly on his own and look away like he was only embarrassed and not confused, troubled, lost. He was acutely aware of the trailing dance of Naoji's fingertips hovering just a second too long on his sweaty skin.

"Must have been the shock," he muttered, his voice slightly shaky, and they silently agreed to not say anything further, whether because Naoji actually believed it, or because he simply chose to overlook it, he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure himself, of what had happened, but something had snapped along with the bowstring, and he didn't know if it was just his philosophy on life, or his rising emotions at the moment, or if it really had just been a simple scare…

He jumped at the slashing sting on his cheek, seeing Naoji's hand withdraw from gingerly dabbing his face with the handkerchief, and he was able to catch the splash of red. His fingertip came away with a dot of red when he touched his cheek in surprise.

"It's happened to me countless times," Naoji offered in consolation, but Ed was sure those were occurrences of the past, when Naoji had been a small child, and Ed could not summon the image of a small, milky-skinned, night-haired boy cutting himself with a bow twice as tall as he was. Naoji, in his mind, had always been a graceful gale.

There was a pause of silence, and the bell at the top of Rosenztolz Academy clanged its warm tones over its domain in six successions. They both ignored the signal of passing time, and their eyes locked for a moment before Naoji reached out to carefully to wipe Ed's face, thinly veiled with perspiration. He closed his eyes and eased his breath out, timing it to the gentle pressure on his face.

"I believe we can stop here for today," Naoji murmured, making to stand up, and Ed impulsively tugged at his sleeve.

"No!" he paused, and recollected himself, "I mean, I just want to try one more time. If you could show me again."

Naoji certainly hid his frown well enough, but Ed was used to people hiding distaste around him enough that he could see the nearly invisible burrowing of his brows. He hoped it wasn't because Naoji didn't want to continue, and the thought made his grasp of the white sleeve loosen.

"Ed… are you sure?" he seemed to eye Ed once more, and Ed willed his momentary weakness away and nodded assuredly. Naoji sighed and stood, and Ed was rewarded with the vague hint of a smile lighting on his smooth, pale face.

"One demonstration, and one more try," he humored him, holding out his arm to lift Ed, and he was glad that his body had recovered enough for him to make it without visible incidence to the bench. He burrowed his toes into the grass and pressed his heels against the cold stone underneath him in anticipation of the unearthly, ephemeral spectacle that he was fortunate enough to watch with unhindered scrutiny.

Naoji shrugged his shoulder out of his sleeve, the cloth falling limply to his side to reveal the smooth expanse of moonlight skin, flexing tenuously in preparation. Slivers of tangerine sunlight peeking from behind the trees speckled his skin as the setting sun regaled them with its last rays of light and warmth, and Ed was struck with the thought that Orphe would have loved to see the scene to paint it. Simultaneously, he realized that he was the only one who'd seen this Naoji, and his stomach contracted in something akin to pleasurable excitement.

"Hassetsu," Naoji spoke calmly, his face morphing into a vestige of composure and self-control, "The first stage is Ashibumi," he proceeded to face the target, spreading his feet and lining his body up, and now that Ed had tried it once and realized how difficult it really was, he was unable to hold back his admiration for the fluidity and surety of all his movements, as well as the meticulous methodical system to them.

"Dozukuri," Ed loved the poetic lilt of Naoji's Japanese, always drinking in every word Naoji spoke in it, noting the slight deepening of his voice as he settled into his native tongue. The language reminded him of a Beethoven sonatina, not nearly staccato, but separated and clear, not French, not German, more similar to Spanish in the clarity of the syllables. Naoji only further accommodated himself, calmly, as if there weren't intense green eyes boring into him with open amazement and subconscious longing.

"Yugamae," he gripped the taut bowstring with his gloved hand, deftly hooking it into the thumb groove, and adjusted his left hand as well before gazing at the bull's eye that seemed to mock Ed but only represented a state of mind to Naoji.

"Uchiokoshi," he whispered, and lifted his arms high above his head, his torso stretching out luxuriously in the process. Ed dragged his eyes away from it to watch his face, the way those coal black eyes were like polished onyx, the usually demure gaze unwavering and confident.

"Hikiwake," the draw, and Naoji's voice was slightly tenser as he spoke, his muscles like marble, hard and taut as he pushed the bow in front of him, his arms lowering with steady precision. Ed watched in awe, his flesh rising in goosebumps. He felt like he was disconnected from his body, his breath on the tip of his tongue as if afraid that the puff of air would distract either one of them.

"Kai," Naoji's voice burst out with a hint of hoarseness, his body beginning to tremble like a bell suspended from a ceiling being stomped upon. His eyes were sharp daggers of midnight black, unrelenting in intensity and boring into his target as if it was an all-encompassing vortex. Ed's own body was rigid in anticipation, his gaze flickering unconsciously from the tip of the arrow to Naoji's eyes, afraid to stray lower, or even to the target, lest he ruin the moment and miss the shot. He wished he could pour all his troubles into that quivering stance and let it release all his pent-up emotions just like that, rid him of his inadequacy.

The arrow was just shy of grazing his regal cheekbones, looking for all the world like it could snap at any moment, and yet Naoji held on for breathless seconds, all quivering, focused, sucking Eduard's attention into a spiral with an axis in his dark eyes. His fingers were flexing minutely, and Ed found the action mimicked in his own with anxiety, before—

"Hanare!"

Ed jumped as the arrow shot forward faster than a swallowtail's dive, leaving him slightly reeled, watching as a trail of white, as if contrasting the arrow, fluttered in front of his eyes, dark hair loosening suddenly to tumble over wide shoulders and flutter with the energy of the shot. He breathed in, not making as sound as Naoji stood immobile, the bow having spun so that the string hit his outer forearm, holding the graceful position for a second longer before closing his eyes and re-opening them to glance at Ed.

Ed was almost afraid to look at the target, his gaze inching to the side before finally alighting on the circle. It had hit, a fraction away from being a perfect bull's eye, but in the center dot nonetheless. He couldn't help breathing out a sight of relief, a warm grin slipping on his face as he looked back at his friend.

His hair cascaded loosely over his shoulder, a couple strands floating over his face, and he absently reached up to smooth it back slightly, allowing a satisfied smile to pull at the corner of his lips, "The last part was Zanshin,the continuation of the shot which allows the mind to return from the plane of focus," his body was still vibrating with energy, like a coil that still resonates after it has been released.

"It was… incredible," Ed responded, nearly breathlessly, unable to say inspiring, majestic, alluring, tantalizing, nostalgic. Pulling at his heartstrings because he wanted that. The ability to control something so completely and utterly, to regain the momentum of his life for that hovering instant where he was a god of his own creating, the Abraxas that dwelled within him surfacing to guide his wishes into domination of that one area of his life, if nothing else

Naoji's black eyes, with a luster like velvety onyx, lowered in a way that took Ed a moment to decipher, because it wasn't a look he'd seen often. He studied it, closely, leaning in so much closer to finally realize, upon noticing the vague, fading twitch of those pale, thin lips, that it was Naoji's attempt to diffuse pleasure, and Ed wondered for an excitable moment if it had been his comment that had managed to please Naoji. It would make him happy, doubtless, to know that a simple comment of his, so used to being tossed to the side carelessly like a dirty, shameful handkerchief, was able to cause even a shimmer of pleasure to someone else. He wanted acceptance so badly, not Orphe's, be cause his was unconditional, his Ed could bet his life on, his was mutual, and that was what made it, in a sense, useless. Orphe was like a mother, his love was a non-sequiteur. Ed wanted to know whether he could be loved by someone who was not tied by the mutual rescuing Orphe and Ed had given to each other. If he could not make anyone happy, then what was the use in his life? It was sort of like a goal, to be able to say, at the end of his life, that even if everything else about him had been useless, he'd stayed by Orphe's side, and he'd been someone who had at least given happiness to others.

The motion of Naoji's graceful turn brought him back to awareness of the present, and the flowing hair swung about in the air like fluttering strands of black silk, swift and unrelenting save to the wind, and Ed impulsively reached out, his fingers splayed as if to trap the essence of his emotions in those dark threads, vainly falling short, and he drew back immediately.

Instead, he watched Naoji bend on one knee to pluck his white ribbon from the grass, and once again, that impulse that rose and stirred like turbulent waters in a storm took him over, and he tasted the sound of Naoji's name on his lips, wondering if it would sound different if he said it with the emotions he felt, and spoke his name with precision, letting his tongue press on the roof of his mouth, his lips to form a perfect 'o' and then the last syllable to gush from his lips smoothly.

"Naoji."

Those coal black eyes swung upward, a wave running down his hair as it followed the quick upwards thrust of his chin, and the wide-eyed innocence and parting of those thin, pale lips shocked Ed with a picture of simplicity and purity, as if he was the virgin queen sitting there for all to adore. It was possibly simply the mundane pose, bent on the ground, looking up at him with patient curiosity in his eye. And Ed wasn't sure at this point what he felt, he just knew there was something there he wanted, something there that he yearned for and made him feel at home and fulfilled.

"Yes, Ed?"

He sprang back, hands raised defensively, disarmingly, "Ah, nothing, I was just thinking, um, that it really might be enough for one day. Dunno if I'm up for another try, today at least."

Naoji simply smiled, chuckling a little to himself, as if maybe thinking that Ed should just have admitted that in the first place, when Naoji had first suggested it. Ed grinned a little, because for one of the first times since he'd known Naoji, his classmate did not know the reality behind the situation. Or, maybe he did. Maybe he had seen through all of Ed's false pretenses and frivolous words, and that was what amused him. Maybe it was Ed who didn't know what was truly going on. It was slightly unnerving, when he thought about it, but with the jumbled mess that passed for his mind, Ed really wouldn't be surprised at anything. It was his firm belief that he was doomed to be mistaken at some point, if he really was what his mother and others thought he was. With this belief in mind, if he really did fail somewhere, at least he wouldn't be surprised.

"Can I tie it for you?" he asked rather meekly, to his chagrin, when he saw Naoji reach back to gather his hair back.

"Would you know how to?" Naoji asked, something of doubtful amusement in his voice, even as he held out the white cloth for him to take, and Ed grinned.

"Can't be that hard, I'm sure I had to tie my little sister's hair at some point," he said, his mind drifting off momentarily as he remembered that he did in fact have three goals.

It was harder than it looked. Naoji's thin hair let the cloth slide off capriciously before Ed had a chance to tie it, and it dismayed him to realize that he could not copy what he'd assumed was an easy knot. The way Naoji tied his ribbon was different from the way knots were normally tied in Kuchen, he knew that much, but as he couldn't replicate it, he had no other option than to settle for what he knew best. But even that was futile, and after several awkward minutes of fumbling with the cloth, Naoji finally spoke up.

"It's alright, it's no trouble for me. I'm used to it, after all," he said lightly, smiling at Ed's sheepishness as he retrieved the ribbon from his hands, the sweeping touch of their fingers allaying his embarrassment.

"Heh, I was in way over my head," he joked absently, watching the motions of those pale fingers intensely. If he paid enough attention, over the course of time he'd be able to do it.

They'd recovered the arrows in silence, and now Ed stood next to Naoji, feeling dumb and at a loss, noting the delicate tug it took to raise the sleeve of Naoji's white Japanese shirt over his shoulder.

"Looks comfy," he offered in attempt to fill the silence. Silence left too much time to think, to dwell. Where had all the earlier harmony gone? The tension in the air was no longer one of suspense and excitement, but one of awkwardness, all of it his. He wanted to feel loved and cared for again, guided gently but firmly onto a path he could then follow blindly. Ah, but Naoji had no need of someone who was as bitterly hopeless and disappointed in himself as he was.

"I…I guess I'll take my leave now. See ya at dinner," he finally said, and though the parting felt like pulling away from a dear childhood memory, it was the only thing he could do to salvage himself here, because he was rapidly feeling like his presence wasn't needed any longer, and rather than face that feeling, he preferred to excuse himself. He ran away from a lot of things.

"Leave?" Naoji turned abruptly to him, "Oh," Ed wondered if that was disappointment in his voice, "I suppose I've kept you long enough."

He was quick to fix that misunderstanding, "No, it's not that. I just figure that you want some time alone and stuff, and I wouldn't want to bother you," it was half hopeless, half hopeful, because he felt that was the truth, but ardently wished it wasn't so.

Naoji was silent, as if measuring the weight of his next words, and then carefully intoned, "If you do not have any pressing matters to attend to… I would not mind some further company."

Ed's eyes widened slightly, because this was as close to an open invitation —a plea, he wished he could say— as Naoji would ever get, with his enduring domesticity and courtesy disallowing him from ever outright asking for company, especially when it was because of selfish desires. He wondered if it was Naoji himself that was like this, or if it also had to do with his culture.

"Yeah… yeah," his grin widened and he clapped Naoji's shoulder jokingly, "I'd love to grace you with my presence for a while longer," he sat down on the stone bench, bending low to drag his shoes closer and tug them on with a sharp pull, and Naoji noticed for the first time that Ed had long and graceful legs, despite their usual casual lankiness, "'Sides, there's some figures I wanted to run by you for Council," he continued, proceeding to lift the rumpled cloth that was his shirt and flicking it out into the air before pulling over his sunset-haired head and down over those lean, tanned shoulders, his dark abdomen stretching out languidly before being covered up in one quick downward thrust… and Naoji blinked and looked away, feigning indifference.

Ed hopped back up, his eyes soft and welcoming and grateful all at once, but Naoji couldn't be sure about exactly why, and reached out to take the quiver from the shorter man's hands, "Here, I'll carry that as repayment for trying to teach me. Oh, not that that's all it's worth, just that I don't know what else I can do—"

He broke off at Naoji's quiet laughter, realizing by the jolt of the body underneath his hand that he still hadn't removed it from his shoulders and quickly did so, "What?"

Naoji smiled as if he was privy to a joke tuned to his ears only and responded with a coy and wry smile, "There is no need to repay me. You have all favored me far beyond what one such as I is deserving of. Just your buoyant, understanding personality is enough of a repayment, Ed."

The redhead gave a dismayed gasp, deliberately avoiding the last comment but gently scooping it into a painfully-wrought nest of memories and fleeting sentiments, "Naoji, you're deserving of anything we do for you and more!"

Naoji shook his head daintily but left the matter tactfully behind, because Eduard was stubborn that way, and while it made him feel strangely pleased to hear Ed's insistence that Naoji was in fact, worthy, and to hear the oddly forceful, pleading undercurrent in that voice… why did it make his stomach tighten? Why did it make his steps just a little more tense? The air, laden heavily with nighttime sounds of insects and remote student voices, the faraway whinnying of a horse and the breath of darkness as she secured her foothold over the day and advanced relentlessly, while encompassing the huge world around them, seemed to center around the two of them, as if it was a sphere that rode along with their steps, a private aegis.

With the kyudo equipment safely put away in a section of the storage cottage, they wandered into the greenhouse, Ed lazily leading the way as he kept the conversation alive with a spark that Naoji was only too glad to follow, enjoying the fluidity of their dialogue. It was unlike the constant scrutiny he felt with Ludwig, regardless of all idolization, the care that he felt he needed to convey whenever around Camus, or the intimidation he felt when around Orphe. This was pure ease that allowed his face to relax into an honest smile and gave his movements a freedom from the rigidity they usually displayed. Ed talked eloquently about everything from his horse Altair to the refinement of the plans they were currently collaborating on for the Strahl Candidate Council. Then there came a breath, illustrated knowingly by the wind, during which they fell silent and drank in the clear, cool evening air. There were gray clouds in the sky contrasted sharply by the darkness of the nightly expanse and partially covering their view of the pinpricks of light that were the stars. Coal eyes glanced covertly at their companion noting with a minute frown the continuous drawn out silence.

Presently, after further moments had passed with sitting patience, Ed turned pensively to him, "Naoji…Are you as good at archery as you are at swordsmanship?"

Naoji's eyes lowered demurely in automatic response, "I am as equal an amateur at kyudo as I am at kendo."

Ed leaned in close, his intense emeralds seeking out Naoji's raven-dark eyes insistently, "Why then… why are you teaching me your kyudo when you refused to teach Orphe your kendo?"

Naoji leaned back as casually as he could, but his hesitance in speaking gave him away, "Those were… different circumstances."

"Different how?" Ed persisted, closing in the distance between them again. He yearned for the proximity of earlier, the hot feel of Naoji's body pressed against his, feeling almost irritated with having to settle for the vague warmth he was barely sensing in front of him.

Naoji seemed to be floundering for an answer, looking at their distance, or lack thereof, warily, and Ed had to chase his gaze, finding it ever elusive underneath those silken bangs. He wondered where that beautiful confidence had fled to, or more correctly, where it was hiding.

"I… did not know him as well at that time as I know you right now," came the answer.

Ed's eyes narrowed slightly, "Is that all?"

Naoji did not know whether to continue or not, as this was Ed's best friend they were talking about, after all. But Ed's voice was not judicious, or aggressive, merely curious, with a hint of knowing underneath. Ed always gave him his most candid responses and actions, and Naoji felt obliged to do the same.

"…Orpherus… is an entity who threatens my existence," he admitted at last, and Ed's bemused blink bid him to continue, "I mean that philosophically, of course," he paused, and looked up at the sky, his gaze just shy of staring directly at the last colorful remnants of the setting sun, "What is it about Orpherus that draws you in, Ed?"

Ed had to think about this one, because the first answer that popped into his mind was simply that he'd known Orphe since he was little. He was his savior from his incarceration at home, he was someone that he wanted to believe in and felt accepted by…

"Just… the way he is, I suppose. As a whole," he answered.

The answer seemed to be satisfactory enough for Naoji, "The way he is? Yes… his stance, with which he intends to dominate the world; his eyes, which profess his insurmountable will; his ideals, which reach higher than humanity can ever hope to follow…" his gaze seemed to sink into nothingness, as if he was reciting words that he'd embedded deep in his soul and needed no lure to draw them out, "A sun like that can outshine everything, and so very easily disintegrate a meager shadow."

Ed shook his head and placed his hand on Naoji's shoulder carefully, painfully conscious of the heat that seemed in his mind to simmer in his fingertips, "Naoji…" the other's dark eyes looked at him blankly, as if telling him it would be useless to contest him, and Ed sighed, "So, Orphe's the sun. What's Lui, then?"

"The new moon," Naoji responded immediately. Ed nodded his approval with a grin.

"And Camus?" there was slight amusement in his words, and Naoji felt himself relaxing, meeting his playful tone with his own casual one, even despite the fact that he could feel the gentle pressure of the other man's fingertips splayed over his shoulder. There were two halves of his mind at work here, the one which answered and kept track of the conversation, and the other one that was hyperactively aware of the stance of the man before him, the rhythm of his breathing, the feel of his fingertips and the decreasing space betwixt them, the glint of his forest green eyes and the pull of those thin lips into a boyish grin.

"A serene pond. Surrounded by flowers, of course," the former half of his mind answered.

Ed chuckled, then stilled, and his eyes regained their former intensity, sliding his fingertips underneath Naoji's chin, and bent down to meet him at eye level.

"Fitting, I suppose. So what does that make me?"

At this, Naoji paused, looking to the side and the mere inches that separated their hands on the bench, and a string of endless seconds passed. Ed lifted Naoji's chin slightly in reminder, and the dark-haired man finally murmured, "…A flame… a lively, warm, crackling flame."

"And were you to be a shadow, you would still exist. I would not be bright enough to fade out anyone," there was a tinge of sadness amongst the factuality of his statement, and Naoji was surprised that he was almost tempted to refute him.

"Ed…"

"But you're not a shadow, see. You're the wind. You can bring in clouds to blot out the sun and the moon, stir the waters… and blow out flames," Ed's hand slid along his neck to cup his jaw, his face drawing ever closer and closer, until his breath was ghosting warmly along the shell of his pale ear, and Naoji's own breath fussed the unruly tendrils of Ed's hair, and he suddenly had to contain the trembling of his body and the tightening of his throat and stomach, feeling like he couldn't breathe quietly anymore and it had ceased to be an unconscious body function, but something he had to monitor closely…, "But usually," Ed continued, his husky voice ripping a shudder from Naoji's skin, a strangled gasp from his throat, "you're soothing, the calming breeze that wills away the storm, refreshing and understanding. The wind's like a phoenix, it's constantly reborn and never put down permanently. It's a glorious thought, isn't?"

He blew gently into Naoji's ear, and Naoji's hand clutched spasmodically at Ed's jacket lapel, —when had it made its way there?— an indescribable whimper burning in his throat, "I'd say you're as glorious as the wind."

His lips, which alighted upon the shell of Naoji's ear like a fluttering bird, slowly descended, padding softly and silently under the curve of his jaw until they reached the dip of the corner of his mouth. And then, as if that was the latch that kept all of Naoji's inhibitions and propriety closely guarded, all it took was those hesitant lips poised over his cheek to unlock them, and let that earlier confidence, that assertion in his swan-like movements to emerge. The hands that had clutched, bidding their time in nervous anticipation, at Ed's lapels suddenly sprung to life, and Ed was roughly yanked closer as Naoji took his lower lip, tasted it, ran his tongue over it with a relish and surety that left Ed reeling in surprise.

"Nao…ji," he managed to murmur, as his head was tilted back with the thrust of Naoji's hungry mouth, and then it all a maze of wet, slick heat, as neither was hesitant about opening their mouths further to deepen their kiss. And it didn't take more than a few seconds for Naoji to wrap his arms around Ed's neck possessively, pulling down without sacrificing the contact of their lips as he slid from the bench and pulled the other man down with him, shifting until Naoji was kneeling between Ed's legs, and the redhead's back was pressed firmly upon the stone bench for support. There was a break, were Ed had to take a couple gasping breaths, closing his eyes because the ardency in Naoji's coal black eyes threatened to spontaneously combust into flame, and there was pressure rising in his stomach and spreading through his arms and legs, stirring achingly at the pit of his belly. Naoji smiled, his face devoid of its usual blank politeness and filled with something that was calculating and raw all at once. He raised himself on his knees, bending Ed's head back as far as it would go as he gently plucked and suckled the dark rose lips that were malleable and swollen under his pressure, as if peeling the petals from a flower bud. His fingers burrowed underneath Ed's haphazard collar, prying loose buttons to reveal tanned flesh rising and falling in a crescendo as Ed's hands, formerly fastened on Naoji's hips, shifted upward possessively. The simple, foreign garments did not accommodate tanned hands sliding underneath, so they had to settle for rising to the waist, where the loose folds could be easily pushed away to reveal moonlight shoulders rolling in pleasure.

It was not so much a game of dominance as it was of exploration, of testing boundaries for the first time, and Naoji broke away to let his panting breaths linger on the dip of Eduard's collarbone, slowly rising with a wicked smile to nip his neck and suckle carefully, as Ed's hands splayed over his chest, moving continually lower in circular traces, sending his nerves into contraction and making him arch his back, pushing him flush against Ed's half-clothed chest. Enduring ecstasy, and he let Ed administer his own electrifying touches, biting sharply once in response to the shudder that finally ripped through his body but not letting anything more than a gasp escape his throat, even as Ed moaned low in his throat and dug his chin deeper into Naoji's shoulder, allowing him a larger expanse of his lower neck for Naoji to tantalize with his tongue. Ed's hair was rough and unruly underneath his hands, but he liked the tingling sensation on his palm and continued running his hands through Ed's hair. The bangs kept tickling his face, but he ignored it and as his strength ebbed from the prolonged position, shifted to sit on Ed's thigh, one of his legs going underneath Ed's raised knee, his ribbon on the verge of falling apart, his own bangs sticking to the sweat that gleamed on Ed's temple. But it was all part of the experience, the minor details, like the lack of light that painted Ed's eyes even more emerald-like as they absorbed what little was available, and the fleeting breeze of the chill night that refreshed them.

So dark... the light of the academy did not reach the enshrouded greenhouse, and the lights had not been turned on when they'd come in. The cloudy sky did not offer much light from the moonless sky, and only their approximation allowed Naoji to see Ed's face. Upon leaning back, however, Ed pausing in his ministrations to look up with a blinking of his eyes, Naoji found that his face blurred into an indescribable dark blur, save for his gleaming eyes. He could not see him. It was a foreboding feeling, and he quickly swooped down again, pulling Ed closer again and pressing his lips underneath his Adam's apple, uttering gravely, "You must be careful, Ed," he felt the questioning gust of air and the minute vibration against his lips and continued, "Or I'll extinguish you after all."

Ed's hands stilled completely, before tentatively wrapping around his back to finger a strand of his hair, "It's a price I'm willing to pay... for certain things," he conceded.

"Such as?"

Ed closed his eyes and thought. He had a promise to Orphe, and he would not break it. With Orphe, he would be kept lit by his radiance. With Naoji... yes, if he was to be extinguished by something, be it himself, his mother, or the circumstances that seemed set against him in life... he would rather it be by Naoji.

"You would be one of those," Ed said simply, hoisting the warm body further on him, "But keep in mind it's for a very selfish reason."

Naoji chuckled, "Why else would it be? It is what allows one to go forward, when used discreetly."

Ed hummed softly in agreement and pressed his lips on Naoji's, but just as Naoji was about to respond, the babble of voices reached their ears and they froze.

"Damn... It's Orphe and Lui... and Camus is with them too," Ed whispered, and they pulled back regretfully after a lingering second in denial, "They must be looking for us, it's almost dinner time."

Naoji grinned mischievously, pushing back a loose strand of hair behind his ear as Ed fanned himself, "What will they say to finding us in the dark?"

Ed matched his grin, "Nothing, if we put our clothes back on, hopefully. I was, in fact, looking for the lamp at this very moment!" he said with wide-eyed innocence. Naoji chuckled and pulled his sleeves back over his shoulders, swiftly reaching back to secure his hair ribbon as Ed hastily began the tedious process of properly buttoning his shirt and forgoing his overcoat, instead throwing it over his shoulder. In retrospect, Naoji could hardly decipher the series of events that had led to this. How it all had spiraled out of control, and yet nothing felt out of place, and they were falling back into life without more than a candlestine smile passing between them. Naoji attributed it to Ed's casual charms.

"We'll have to continue that kudo lesson sometime soon, won't we?" he winked.

"Kyudo," Naoji corrected him, and stood to head over to the table where Camus kept the watering cans, while the voices crept closer. Orphe and Lui were arguing about something again, and Camus' interjections broke in periodically.

"Right, right," Ed walked to the opposite end of the greenhouse, groping around in the darkness. Naoji watched his outline and its energetic movements, though they had a tired air to them, as Naoji was sure his did too, and remembered the spark in his eyes when it reflected the sunlight. The lamp was found, and Ed fished a match out and lit it, blowing on it gently to feed it. The flickering light made Ed's face glow warmly, making him a beacon in the darkness. It was a light Naoji was not afraid to follow.

"Ed," he suddenly called out, "The wind is not only for extinguishing fire. It is also for coaxing it to grow larger, until even a gale would not be able to quench it, only spread it."

Ed's eyes widened with the realization, and he looked like he wanted to respond, but the door handle turned at that moment, and instead, smiled warmly and lifted the lamp up in the air as the door opened.

Ils ne s'éteindront jamais

OoO

Quick note: Hassetsu is the eight-stage process of shooting the arrow. The title, S'éteindre , means to extinguish (yourself), in French. Last line loosely translated as 'they won't extinguish themselves ever'.

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