Note: Tagging these characters is just a mess. Oy vey. That aside, hope you like!
Lighthouse on the Shore
Ann blinks once, twice, three times in the darkness. She's only half-certain that she's awake as her eyes struggle to adjust to their surroundings. She whips her head to and fro, trying to find signs of life in the void. Her mind is hazy under a thick cover of fog - thick as honey, her thoughts trying their damndest to wade through its milky clutches - but she's barely able to make out the outline of Ren's hideous curtains. A bright lavender with blue polka-dots, left by the dorm's previous occupant, kept around due to forgetfulness. Thanks to their university's lenient dormitory rules, she's had countless days and nights to commit their ugliness to memory.
There was no sunlight filtering through those twin lavender beasts. No Ren to greet her good morning with tender nose kisses. The loving caresses of her cheek that send her heart soaring to the heavens at ungodly hours of the morning. The sweet, sweet nothings that are so sweet. Caramel, chocolate, cake - none could compare to the sweetness that is Ren.
Seconds pass and the fog shrouding her thoughts begins to lift, little by little. Ann snaps out of her reverie and slowly puts the pieces together, the complete puzzle becoming a horrible realization.
It's the middle of the night.
She rubs her aching eyes and groans in frustration. Except she doesn't actually groan, because she's unable to make a sound. In its place is a raspy, choking noise. Alarmed, she tries again, but another meets her ears. What's happening? Something is clearly wrong. Something is wrong. Wrong. Wrong!
Her body jolts upright like she's been shocked by lightning. She needs air and she needs it now. There's a heaviness in her chest - she's being crushed, she knows it, her sternum and spine rebelling against her own anatomy to meet in the middle for a quick 'hello.' She takes short breaths to satiate her hungry, needy lungs, to feed them the oxygen they so crave, but she can't. There's no air in here and god, why is there no air in here somebody please give her some air.
Her arm shoots outward in a panic, and her fingers feel around in the darkness for the switch to Ren's desk lamp. Also a hideous monstrosity of polka-dots, also the lovechild of forgetfulness and laziness. She silently thanks forces unknown when her fingers brush against a bumpy knob. The lamp switches on faster than her muddled brain had, and the room is illuminated with precious light. It's a small comfort, the invisible walls beginning to pull further and further away from her chest and back. Her breaths are still somewhat shallow but now she's more confused than breathless. She was - is? - panicking.
But why?
Another minute ticks by at a snail's pace, and her brain fog completely clears, bringing with it a torrential downpour of sights and sounds from the recesses of her mind.
'Can't believe she's sleeping with a teacher.'
'I didn't think she was that slutty. She looks so innocent.'
'Maybe next time you'll answer your damn phone.'
'Why aren't you helping me up?! Don't you care about me?! I'm dying and you don't even care!'
Ann shivers as the recollection of her nightmare comes to her. A grotesque distortion of an already grotesque period in her life. Kamoshida standing over Shiho, taunting her, taunting them both. Shiho blaming Ann. The screaming. The oblivious students chastising her behind her back. The screaming. The unnatural way Shiho was glaring at her. The screaming. The screaming.
It's been two years. Two years since Kamoshida nearly stole her best friend from her, from the world. Two years since that monster nearly ruined the lives of countless students. Two years since she slammed the door on that chapter of her life, ripping and scratching and tearing and clawing at the pages so that she never had to read them again.
But now, in the dead of night, when she's lost in the realm of dreams, when she's powerless to fight back, his face is here. Shujin is here, Shiho is here, and the jeering students are here. She had conquered her fears when they conquered his Palace. Yet, seeing Shiho battered and bruised, that demon of depravity standing over her. It's left her rattled. She can't go back to sleep, not after this. Ann doesn't know what to do except sit there and try not to disturb Ren.
Ren.
He's her beacon - her lighthouse on the shore. When she's lost at sea, when life's waves threaten to drown her beneath the water's surface, he's always there to guide her way home. To her, there is no one more perfect, none that can make her feel as safe with just a look and a touch. It's for these reasons why she briefly contemplates jostling her boyfriend awake, arguing with herself internally on the matter.
'He doesn't need to deal with you right now.'
'But I need him!'
'You're just gonna look like an idiot.'
'But I need him!'
"Mm… Ann?"
A sleepy Ren calls for her and her heart sinks into her chest, falling so deep into its chasm that she can sense it pounding in her stomach. She bites her lip, because she's embarrassed, yes, but also because her name never sounds quite as melodic as it does when it comes from his voice - it's her favorite track from her favorite album. Its what angel harps must sound like, she'd surmised during a previous late night rendezvous.
It's only now, when Ren has concluded his stretching and yawning, that Ann notices she's gripping his sheets, her knuckles white as freshly fallen snow.
"U-um."
She manages to croak out at least some acknowledgement that she's present, that she's here.
It's enough, it's more than enough, for Ren to hurriedly remove his sheet, shoving it aside so he can freely sit by Ann. She fidgets under his watchful gaze, but he doesn't ask her any questions. He waits patiently by her side, and Ann is reminded all over again why she fell in love with him. His patience and his understanding, and everything in between. He just knows what to do and how to do it. He knows her, and he understands her.
She wants to explain herself - she wants to tell Ren that the nightmare brought her to a place that she never wanted to go back to. That her thoughts were a swirling vortex of blinding lights and deafening beeps. That she felt like she was dying and that her chest was caving inwards. That she forgot what air was and how to take it in.
She settles for a single word.
"N-nightmare."
A barely audible explanation that could be carried away with the lightest breeze. She's afraid that Ren doesn't hear her, and suddenly she wants to cry. Why was she so pathetic? She's better than this, she knows she is. Getting emotional over a stupid nightmare - it's ridiculous. She clenches her eyelids shut in defiance, not giving any wayward tears the satisfaction of escaping.
Before her head can sink beneath the water, a warm body presses against hers. Arms are wrapping themselves around her, and hands are rubbing her back in gentle circles.
It's Ren. It's Ren's body, Ren's arms, Ren's hands. Ann falls into him - accidentally, but she doesn't mind her new position - and her head is level with his chest. She looks up at him with teary eyes, and Ren's hands work their way up from her back to the base of her neck.
"It's okay," he says with a shh, and in his arms - being held, being protected - she starts to believe it.
That's all it takes for Ann to let the few tears she'd been holding back slip through her defenses. She buries her face into his worn-out t-shirt, a shirt that she'd worn the night before. He was wrong. The shirt looks so much better on him
"Mmphsorry," she apologizes, her words muffled.
Ren hugs her closer, bringing her into him. "Don't be."
"Mmph… phtupid."
Ren giggles lightly, and the sound of bells rings in Ann's ears. "You're not," he reassures.
And this reassurance is enough for Ann to lift her head again. "I saw Shiho," she explains. She leaves out 'after she fell,' but Ren's expression lets her know that the addition is unneeded. He understands - of course he understands. "And… Kamoshida. The school. The rumors. It sucked."
"It's okay," he repeats softly. His gentle breath brushes against her hair, and a familiar electricity courses through her veins once more. "Shiho is okay. You made sure of that, right?"
"Right," she says with trepidation.
"And you're okay, too - you're stronger than ever." He runs two fingers down the her neck and she's in orbit, flying amongst the stars. "Strong enough to handle any bad dream."
"You think?"
"I know," he says, but he says it so seriously - so seriously that Ann knows that it's true. "And if you want," he continues, "We can stay awake as long as you need."
"No, you should go back to sleep." Her heart isn't in this statement one bit. She doesn't want him to go back to sleep, and she can tell that he can tell.
"I'm not leaving you alone."
Coming from anyone else, these words would be empty - hollow, like a seashell, housing only the fleeting winds. Coming from Ren, the words are calming. They guide her back to where she belongs.
She places her hand against his sturdy chest, feeling it rise and fall with his rhythmic breathing.
Up, down.
In, out.
Ann follows the soothing motions, emulating his breaths, and finally, finally she relaxes in his embrace.
"You're amazing, you know that?"
"Funny, I was going to say the same thing."
It's cheesy and cliché, but the fact that it comes out so casually is just like him. It makes her melt into a pile of goo, as it always does, and without much resistance, her eyelids begin to droop.
"So cute," she says, snuggling up to Ren moreso than she was. Ann can't see it, but the beaming smile on his face is there. The corners of her mouth twitch and she smiles too, because the shoreline is just within her view.
She's home.
Ann's nights are peaceful for an entire month - four solid weeks of uninterrupted sleep was good for her body and soul. The nightmare that she had never returned, and in its place were blissful dreams - of rainbows, of delicious treats, of an endless journey across faraway lands, of skipping atop clouds and bathing the earth in rain.
And Ren, but Ren is featured in every one of her dreams anyway.
This prolonged period of tranquil slumbering is why she's so surprised when she finds herself sitting in the darkness at three in the morning. She wiggles her fingers to shake some feeling back into her right hand - she really had to be careful not to sleep on it so often - and brings it to her chest. She grumbles in annoyance when she feels a sticky coating of sweat along her bare skin.
"Gross," she mutters, forgetting that she had tossed her shirt into the abyss before bed. Sleeping shirtless was essential in this sweltering summer heat.
She steadies her breathing.
One, two.
One, two.
One, two.
She heaves a sigh of relief. Her pulse is normal, and she can't recall any pesky nightmares plaguing her sleeping head. So then what the hell, she wonders aloud, had ruined her fantastic streak of well-deserved beauty rest?!
Knock knock knock
Her ears perk up, twitching at the abrupt knocking coming from her door. She freezes momentarily and stares in the direction of the noise, her ears thankfully not betraying her like her eyes so easily do. She pushes any inklings of fear off of a cliff and frantically searches for a source of light. There are no disgusting curtains in her dorm room to aid her vision, so she has to rely solely on her sense of touch to gauge her phone's whereabouts. She reaches under her pillow and, after grabbing at nothing eight separate times, pulls her the phone from under it. Texting before bed was a habit she meant to kick ages ago, but not texting Ren a heartfelt 'goodnight!' with no less than four hearts was simply out of the question.
Ann swipeswipeswipes at the screen, and after a few misclicks - no, she does not want to listen to music at max volume right now, thank you - the flashlight ticks on. With a mobile light in her hands, she practically flings herself from her bed and walks - stumbles - over to the lamp across the room to switch it on. This process takes much too long, and enough seconds go by to where she convinces herself with a shrug that perhaps the knocking she heard was all in her head.
Knock knock knock knock knock
The repetitive knocks are faster this time and they catch her off-guard, causing her to jump. Still half-naked, she grabs a discarded shirt from her messy mountain of clothes - it's Ren's shirt, but really it's her shirt because she says so - and throws it over her smooth skin. It might be backwards, the fabric doesn't seem to fit quite right over her slender frame, but there are bigger matters to contend with. She walks over to her door and twists the knob, before yanking her hand away, as if scorched by a hot pan, when she realizes her mistake.
"Who is it?" she asks, the question almost slipping her mind.
She hears what she presumes to be a name given to her from the outside, but she doesn't catch it.
"Uh… who?"
She leans forward in an attempt to hear this mysterious person more clearly, her face rubbing against the cold, wooden barrier separating them. The one-syllable name reaches her from the other side, and she pulls the door open with all of her might because there's no way this person is who they say they are.
But they are.
Standing there, out in the dimly lit hallway, is her boyfriend.
Her first instinct is to reprimand him. What on earth is he thinking, strolling across campus in the middle of the night, without so much as a measly text or call or text? What if he had tripped and gotten hurt, or what if he had given her a legitimate heart attack by pounding away at her door? Both were equally valid concerns, in her mind.
Her second instinct is to kiss him. At three in the morning, but no matter the hour, Ren's lips were just so kissable. So plush, so inviting, so enticing - a fruit that she wants to sink her teeth into. And he had braved the unknown just for her. The unknown, the terrifying black hole of night where monsters and creatures of the dark could have snatched him away! Didn't that form of bravery deserve some kind of reward?
But Ann holds off on any scolding or signs of loving affection, because now she's actually looking at Ren.
His typical neat, shining head of hair - its sheen able to blind passersby from a mile away - is uncharacteristically untidy. It's disheveled, clumps matted against his forehead, others sticking up this way and that.
His glasses. He never leaves his room without those trademark glasses but, bizarrely, they seem to be missing. No, not missing, Ann speculates. If his wrinkled clothes and frazzled hair are any indications, his glasses were simply forgotten in his haste to make it here. She can't help but pat herself on the back for her brilliant detective work, but stops when she truly notices his face.
It's worse than everything else combined. His features are normally perfect, his skin flawless. He's a prince from a fairy tale, come to life, gorgeous beyond belief. But tonight, his face fills her with worry and dread and fear all at once. His eyes are puffy and bloodshot, swollen. Without his glasses, it's even easier to see. His cheeks were tear-stained, like he had been…
Crying?
"Hey."
Ann didn't know how much emotion a simple greeting could evoke, but the sound of Ren's voice breaks her heart like hammer to a vase, shattered to pieces. It's shaky. Shaky and exhausted, his energy depleted from, presumably, crying. His foundation is cracking and everything in Ann's body is screaming at her to let him inside before it crumbles. She listens, and wordlessly lets Ren inside.
He doesn't hug her, he doesn't say anything more. Instead, he listlessly moves to her bed and takes a seat. If Ann is being honest with herself, the scene is difficult to watch. He reminds her of a zombie, walking with no direction, no purpose. It's scary, seeing him this vulnerable, his usual confidence nowhere to be found. Ren has had bad days - he's only human, despite what some might believe - but getting a C+ on a History exam isn't on this same level. This is something different entirely.
Ren is staring at his clasped hands, folded in his lap, his head down. Ann is at a loss. A thousand and one questions are firing off in her brain like rockets, but she doesn't know where to start. She does start, not with a question, but by taking a seat next to him.
For a while, Ann can do nothing except look at him. Her boyfriend is hurting and she can only look. She doesn't know what to say, and the things that she wants to say, she can't. This isn't a failed exam. She can't make brighten his mood with a lively, 'You'll do better next time, for sure!' or with a mishmash of frozen desserts after class. She doesn't know what this is, but it's serious.
"Are you okay?" she asks, lamely.
Stupid. That was so stupid. Of course he's not okay. He's in her room at three A.M.! He was crying! Why is she so terrible at comforting her own boyfriend? But she knows why. She could never soothe Ren's nerves like Ren can hers - with a snap of his fingers or a flick of his wrist. Words, the right words, fly from the tip of his tongue so naturally. She's not articulate like Ren. She's can't think straight under pressure like Ren, and, worst of all, she's not comforting like Ren. She's too blunt - not as careful, not as knowing.
Despite the supposed stupidity of her question, Ren responds with a shake of his head.
'No.'
"Do you wanna talk about it?"
Another idiotic question pours from her mouth. She doesn't want to force him to speak, but there's nothing else she can do - nothing else she knows how to do. And right when she's about to give up hope that Ren will talk, he does just that.
"You were gone."
The ominous sentence gives Ann a sudden chill.
"W-what?"
"My dream," he adds, before her sanity is lost to her. "You were gone. Everyone was. I don't even know why, or how, but." He pauses, running a hand through his midnight locks. "I couldn't sleep anymore. I was scared."
Ren is never shy about sharing his emotions, but to hear him describe these feelings so candidly was heart-wrenching. She desperately wants to comfort him, it's all she wants to do.
But she's speechless. The love of her life is hurting, and she's speechless. This is the love of her life, and she's speechless! Ren is her lighthouse, her beacon, but she can't be the same for him - can't even offer him a flicker - and it's torture. It can't go on like this. She can't go on like this.
"I'm sorry." She blurts out an apology before she realizes what she's doing. Her mouth is moving on its own and she continues in hushed tones. "I wish I could say something to make you feel better, or give you advice, but I can't. I'm not good with words like you are. All I can tell you is that I'm sorry. I'm… really bad at this."
But that's not the only thing she has to say, because even though she's bad at this, she has to try. She has to try for him. And maybe - maybe she's not comforting like Ren is. Maybe she'll never be as good with words as Ren is. But she'll try, and keep trying. She has to.
"B-but! I want you to know that I'm here for you, okay? It probably sounds lame coming from me, but it's true. So, we can talk! Or uh, not talk. Whatever you wanna do. I'm here for you, no matter what. I just... wanted you to know that."
She doesn't avert her gaze, determination steadily rises within her, and soon, Ren lifts his head and gazes at her too. She's ready to wait in suspense for his response, but she doesn't wait long.
"Ann, you don't need to be great with advice. I don't need it. All I need is you."
"Why...?" Ann trails off.
"Because," Ren's hypnotic grey orbs regain some of their usual luster, and he goes on, with sincerity. "You being here just makes everything better."
It hits Ann like a truck, and she finally understands. To her, Ren is her lighthouse. He always has been. His words, his actions, his demeanor - they work in tandem to light her path. But to Ren, she was his lighthouse, reaching out to him in the stormy waters, guiding his ship back to land. She always had been - she just didn't know it until now.
And once more, like that early morning one month ago, there are arms, there are hands, and there's a warm body. But none of it is Ren's - it's Ann's. It's Ann's arms wrapping around him. It's Ann's hands rubbing his back in gentle circles. It's the warmth of Ann's body pressing into him, embracing him. He cracks and falls into her, and he just fits, like a glove. Like it's where he belongs.
Maybe, she ponders - maybe she is comforting like Ren is.
"Thank you," he whispers, burying his face in the crook of Ann's neck.
"It's okay," she whispers back. "I'm here."
She is, and she always will be.
Ann is greeted the next morning with tender kisses - tender lips placed directly onto her nose.
"Good morning."
Ren is cheerful, a stark contrast to the previous night.
"Morning." Ann is cheerful too, because Ren's cheerfulness is as infectious as it ever was. She traces his broad, naked shoulders with the tip of her finger. She takes a moment to appreciate his form, the curvature - the hills and valleys that her lips had traced themselves before bed. "Any sweet dreams?"
"You know, I can't really remember. But." Ren's voice is low, and he brings a hand to her unsuspecting cheek. "My dream is right here."
"What a line," Ann jokes with a laugh, but she's powerless to fight the magnitude of his cheesiness. Their banter is cut short, because their lips are drawn together by pure, raw magnetism. His tongue, ever the gentleman, asks for permission to enter her pink cavern. She opens the door, and they shake hands like good neighbors do. Their tongues collide and Ann is traveling through time and space, encountering planets unexplored and galaxies never seen. Ann can feel Ren's smile, unable to hide his happiness. And she's happy, because this is real, because they're both here.
She's happy, because her light guided him home too.