Tsukki was different after his brother left, quieter, angrier, sadder. To others, the change might not have been obvious. Tsukki was always rather standoffish and more than a little self-aggrandizing, but to Tadashi, the changes were as plain as the freckles that adorned his face. One action, one ill-advised trip, one mistake, was all it took to seemingly shatter Tsukki's confidence.

Tadashi was half afraid that Tsukki would no longer be friends with him. It was, after all, his idea to hold a stealth trip. Tadashi certainly blamed himself, but somehow, by the benevolent will of whatever higher powers existed, Tsukki didn't seem to blame Tadashi. Not for long, anyway. For the first six months or so after the occurrence, things were tense between the two boys. Tsukki was obviously struggling, and Tadashi ached with the need to soothe the pain, but the fae scoffed at and vehemently refused any sort of sympathy. Now, more than ever, weakness was unforgivable to Tsukki. It made Tadshi worry for their friendship.

Things reverted right back to the beginning when Tadashi spent his time talking to an empty faerie ring. Tsukki was there these times, but he was withdrawn. He rarely spoke to Tadashi and, more often than not, left at random times without returning. It all made the freckled boy want to cry, seeing the most important person in his life in such pain whilst refusing help. Luckily, Tsukki did eventually return to some semblance of normal.

He was different still; what was once sarcasm and good-natured ribbing had turned into cynicism and harsh insults, but at heart, Tadashi knew Tsukki was the same. He was a little bit meaner, sure, but never to Tadashi. Instead of glorious stories of his brother's adventures, Tsukki had started to tell tales of his other friend's stupidity. To them, he was mean and snarky, almost to the point of cruelty if his stories were to be believed, but to Tadashi, he was still the same sweet Tsukki. Against all odds and despite the best attempts from the outside world, Tadashi's friendship with Tsukki remained unchanged. They lived in their own bubble, unchanged by time and the pains of growing up. The two of them had changed, but their bond remained firm. And for that, Tadashi was ever grateful.

Despite their best efforts, though, it became harder and harder to meet up. Tadashi spent more and more of his time working at the apothecary as he came of age, and free time was harder to come by. At the same time, Tsukki's time was ever monopolized by his adventure training, a life path fueled entirely by spite and nostalgia. So, as the boys reached the age signifying adulthood, they decided to cut their meetings to once a week. Even then, their bond did not waver. In fact, Tadashi found an aching truth in the effects of absence on the heart.

While they spent less time together than in their childhood, Tadashi found himself growing more and more fond of Tsukki by the day. Most of the time, Tsukki's presence helmed the forefront of Tadashi's mind. Visits to their faerie ring had always been the best part of the day, but Tadashi had started to find that the time spent at their ring felt more like his real-life than the one in the village did. In fact, he couldn't even recall when he had started to refer to the faerie ring as theirs and not Tsukki's.

For the first few months after Tadashi noticed his change in perspective, he found it concerning. Time not spent with Tsukki seemed blurry and drab, whilst time with him was crystal clear and colorful. Tadashi honestly started to believe that one of the other fae had started following Tsukki to their meetings and had bewitched him. Almost immediately after the thought occurred to him, though, he brushed it off. There was certainly no way Tsukki would ever allow that to happen. With no real reason to feel concerned for his safety, Tadashi decided to think nothing of it. Tsukki had always been a focal point of his life, why should he deem it an issue now? Instead of worrying, Tadashi threw himself ever deeper into his work at the family apothecary and pushed his ever-growing focus on Tsukki aside.

Spending more time at the storefront, of course, also meant interacting with the townsfolk more often, something he previously avoided. Now that he was no longer a child, he found that people were kinder to him. The boys who used to chase him and call him names now frequented the shop to buy salves for cuts and burns acquired in their own apprenticeships. The old women who used to gossip about his conception now marveled over his and his father's medicines.

Perhaps it was because Tadashi was naturally friendly, or perhaps it was because when he started his apprenticeship, the quality of the medicines increased, either way, the whole town was rather enamored with him. He and his father received no apologies, of course, but the townsfolk were noticeably nicer. More importantly, the mothers and older women of the village seemed to think Tadashi a respectable young man to introduce to their daughters.

In all honesty, Tadashi had never thought of the girls in town like that, or any girls for that matter. They were nice, sure, they would always smile at him in the streets and wave from carts, but he had never considered pursuing any of them. He knew other boys had started thinking of the girls differently long ago, at this point, he was numb to the crude and garish comments that his peers made under the illusion of solitude. Tadashi, however, found the thought of wedding a girl rather unpleasant.

Friendship was fine, but he never thought of them in the same way as the other young men around him. In fact, Tadashi couldn't really imagine spending the rest of his life with anyone at all. The only person Tadashi could even imagine in that scenario was Tsukki. Of course, immediately after that thought wormed its way into his head, Tadashi felt a jolt of dread. Surely he didn't think of Tsukki like the other boys thought of girls! No, no, everything was purely platonic, it had to be. Still, once the thought had occurred to him, Tadashi found it increasingly difficult to chase away. On the nights he spent with Tsukki, the concept was particularly invasive.

It was a warm and muggy evening, the kind that was common in the seasonal limbo between spring and summer, eight years since he and Tsukki had first met. They had now known each other for just as long as they hadn't.

The two sat in the shade of an old wisteria, its gnarled branches spread outward, casting the small pond in the shadow of its flowers. The air was sweet with the smell of the blossoms and thrumming with the sounds of a forest at sunset. The day birds were no longer singing their melodies, and the silence in their wake was filled by insects, cicadas, and crickets joyfully celebrating the setting sun. From their spot under the tree, Tadashi could spot a few fireflies just starting to meander about, not yet blinking.

The two sat in silence, as they sometimes did when gifted with a particularly calm evening. Tsukki, Tadashi knew, liked to listen to the forest and understand what it had to say. Tadashi himself had no such ability to understand the conversations of the wild, but he listened anyway and liked to think that all his time spent in these places had allowed him some sort of attunement to the forest's moods. The forest was happy today, he decided, as none of the creatures' chatterings sounded notably displeased.

There was no breeze to alleviate the waning heat and jostle the wisteria flowers, but petals fell regardless, taking up residence in Tadashi's hair. Lazily, Tadashi tracked the trajectory of another errant bloom and watched as it landed on Tsukki's head. The purple was a nice contrast to Tsukki's silk-yellow hair and looked good on him, as most things did.

The fae boy had grown into the long-limbed body of his youth. Where once was just skin and bones was now muscle, hardened and refined from several years of training. Now more than ever, Tadashi noticed just how angular his friend was in comparison to him. The muscle definition was a given, but while Tadashi had never fully grown out of his baby-pudge, Tsukki's face had become sharp and defined, elegant in the way only a fae could be. The ethereal black markings framing his face only served to enhance Tsukki's regal looks.

Tadashi was no stranger to thinking Tsukki was attractive, to deny the fact would be to cast away all objectivity, but, after his conversation with the townspeople, he wondered if his thoughts on Tsukki were truly normal. Tadashi had heard how men would soliloquize bout their wives and how the young women would titter over an attractive man's features. As he ruminated on it, his thoughts on Tsukki sounded less like friendly compliments and more like how one would think of their beloved. The thought brought a violent blush to Tadashi's cheeks as he ducked his head to look away from Tsukki, whom he had been staring at.

When he built enough courage to look at Tsukki again, he found the fae looking back at him. The blonde sniggered at Tadashi's slight shock and the poor boy couldn't help but to stare at the way the corners of Tsukki's eyes crinkled when he laughed. Seemingly ready to break the silence, Tsukki began to speak.

"I'll be done with my training soon, and surely you have grown to outclass your father in your trade. I was thinking... As children, we joked about adventuring together, but with you to heal me, I think it might be a real possibility. I know you despise being confined to just your village, so I want you to adventure with me." Tsukki was smiling as he spoke. Not the mirthful, mocking smiles Tadashi had grown accustomed to, but a real smile, full of hope and excitement. Tsukki was always most beautiful when he really smiled.

Elation and hope coursed through Tadashi's veins at Tsukki's suggestion. They had discussed the idea as children, but Tadashi never truly believed Tsukki would consider taking him along. Tskukki's face grew slightly concerned at the silence, and he nudged Tadashi to bring him out of his reverie.

"Come on, what do you say? Promise you'll adventure with me?" Tsukki held out his hand, ready to shake. Tadashi looked at the outstretched appendage, and then up to the hope in Tsukki's eyes. Humans weren't supposed to make any promises or deals with the fair folk, but this was Tsukki. He could be trusted, and even if the faerie were to somehow gain power over Tadashi from this. He found he didn't much mind, so long as they were together.

All reservations quelled, Tadashi placed his hand into Tsukki's firm grasp, "I promise that I will go adventuring with you someday, Tsukki," and shook.

A slight numbness shot up Tadshi's arm, the kind that happened after lying on a limb for too long. He knew making pacts with the fair folk was dangerous, but couldn't find it in himself to care. The thought of leaving his dingy village someday, of traveling all over the lands with Tsukki, made any consequences worth it. In the span of one evening, Tadashi had finally acknowledged and accepted the strange feelings that had plagued him for months. The pure elation at the thought of spending his life with the fae had proven it, he had fallen in love with Tsukki. Everything about these feelings were forbidden in his home. Men could not love other men, and humans certainly could not love a faerie. Tadashi pondered his confliction on the way back to the village and decided he didn't care. It didn't matter if Tsukki didn't feel the same way, Tadashi didn't ever plan on telling the other. What mattered was that Tadashi loved Tsukki, and even a week spent traveling with the fae would be worth a thousand lifetimes in the town. So long as he got to be with Tsukki he would be happy, and nothing bad could happen while Tsukki was around, because his love for Tsukki made life colorful.

Love was a new feeling, but Tadashi welcomed it with open arms.