iv.
It was meant as a gift, but sometimes it feels like a curse.
Shuusei lies in bed and stares at the ceiling, mind dwelling on the memory he can never shake; the one his past self tucked carefully away, folding into the fabric of his soul. She was happy, that much Shuusei understands, and for a Zweilt true happiness is rare – marrying your soulmate even more so. Yet there are days he thinks of undoing her carefully woven barrier, knowing he can cut the memory loose forever if he wanted. Except in the end, he can never betray her kindness.
Closing his eyes, Shuusei surrenders himself to the dream-like vision again. She lays curled in bed, reaching out to stroke Hotsuma's cheek – mind still humming from the wedding celebration. Shuusei recognizes the joy in Hotsuma's expression, but the affection in his eyes is more tender and intimate than anything Shuusei has seen in their lives since, and that loss always makes him ache.
"You're so beautiful," Hotsuma whispers, leaning in and kissing her softly - hand curving round the naked jut of her hipbone. "I can't believe they let me have you."
"You've always had me," Shuusei hears her whisper back, and she leans in closer, until their bodies press together. There's a rustle of bedding as Hotsuma draws her in, and she settles happily atop his body, straddling the width of Hotsuma's hips. "Hotsuma," she murmurs, and her hair falls over her shoulder when she leans forward, hands caressing his abdomen before coming to rest on his chest.
They lay poised like that for a heartbeat, as if neither is sure of how to proceed. Shuusei is never surprised when she's the one who closes the gap between them; captures Hotsuma's mouth and slowly teases him into readiness. The curiosity and hunger on Hotsuma's face always makes Shuusei wonder how long Hotsuma dreamed of this, his pleasure too easy to read.
"You're so beautiful," Hotsuma repeats, propped up now on his elbows. His cheeks flush as he watches her slot their bodies together, eyes still soft and wanting. "Shuusei," he whispers as she lets out a gasp, his hand coming up to steady her, "my beautiful, beautiful Shuusei."
"Stop saying that," she chastises, embarrassed but pleased. Hotsuma shoots her a grin.
"I'm going to keep saying it. Again, and again, and again …"
Shuusei sits up abruptly, feeling vaguely ill as he tries to shake the memory away. He knows how this story ends; the failed pregnancies and growing rift, the clan made privy to their personal affairs. She was happy but it didn't last - and most nights Shuusei runs from her gift, scared to let history repeat.
He turns and sets his feet on the floor, prepared to leave sleep behind for the night when Hotsuma shifts next to him, blinking bleary eyes open in confusion.
"Shuusei? Wha-?" Hotsuma rubs at his eyes, the mattress shifting as he collects his sprawl of limbs. But Shuusei reaches out and stills him with a touch of his hand.
"It's fine. Go back to sleep."
Even in the haze of sleep, the stubborn set of Hotsuma's jaw is evident. "Where'ya going?"
Shuusei puts on a smile and folds one knee on top of the mattress, leaning in. "I won't be gone long. You insisted on sleeping here, so sleep."
"But-"
Shuusei reaches out and touches Hotsuma's cheek, fingers cool against Hotsuma's skin. "I'm just going to get some water," he murmurs, used to reassuring his partner – of easing his fears with half-truths and smiles. And he wonders if she did the same, slipping away to be alone with her worries. "I'll be right back."
Hotsuma's awareness is fading away, muscles relaxing with each reassurance from Shuusei. And his hand creeps out sleepily between them, pinky finger poised upright.
"Promise?"
A genuine smile threatens to break across Shuusei's face. He lets out a soft snort of laughter, reaching out to hook Hotsuma's finger with his own. "Promise."
"Good," Hotsuma mumbles, words getting lost as he turns into the pillow. His grip on Shuusei's hand slackens, and Shuusei untangles their fingers before carefully pushing himself off the bed.
He creeps across the floor, steps light so as not to disturb Hotsuma again. But as Shuusei goes to open the bedroom door, Hotsuma rolls over; his next words spoken clearly.
"... always sleep better when you're here."
Shuusei freezes, hand curled around the door knob. The mansion is silent around them except for the ticking of the grandfather clock downstairs, and he closes his eyes and counts the seconds as they pass, trying not to bend to Hotsuma's sleep-laden rambling. But he catches his name in Hotsuma's continued murmur, his partner tossing restlessly – as if he can sense that Shuusei is no longer there.
With a small sigh, Shuusei turns and pads back across the floor. He tugs the blanket up around Hotsuma's shoulders, letting his hand brush across Hotsuma's forehead in an effort to comfort his partner. "Really," he says softly as Hotsuma stills again, head lulling into the warmth of Shuusei's touch, "you're so easy to please."
And maybe that's the secret; the message that Shuusei is meant to divine from her memory. As he curls beside Hotsuma on the mattress again, Shuusei wonders what memory he'd impart to a future reincarnation – and decides that it would be something simple. Not the horrors of the fire or the years of anguish that followed, but a memory of Hotsuma's smile as he looked only at Shuusei.
Simple, but happy.