Chapter Text
True to his word, Yuma was there through every step: booking the appointments, helping Taki fill out their consent forms, making sure he ate and drank beforehand, and driving them to the piercing shop. Taki’s stomach did flip-flops, butterflies of nerves and excitement floating around inside. After checking in with the piercer, Yuma pulled Taki over to a large display case full of jewelry. There was so much to look at– septum rings, navel rings, eyebrow bars, and earrings in every style and color imaginable. Taki was mesmerized, eyes scanning the jewelry over and over. His eyes kept landing on some earrings at the back of the case, small diamonds in the shapes of stars and moons on gold and silver posts, all shimmering in the fluorescent lighting.
“Do you see something you like?” Yuma asked, watching him as he gaped at the limitless choices in front of him.
Taki nodded, “Yeah, I think so.” He pointed toward a pair of small silver stars and turned his head toward Yuma, gauging his reaction. Yuma smiled.
“The stars are beautiful, they’ll look really pretty on you.” he stated fondly, gazing between the earrings and Taki’s ears. Taki felt his cheeks flush and warmth bloom in his chest. Yuma stepped closer to where Taki was poised over the jewelry case, making their shoulders brush against one another. As Yuma leaned forward to take a closer look, Taki turned his head away, trying his best to conceal his rising blush and pounding heart. Unable to stand the silence, Taki mustered his strength to keep his voice from shaking as he offered Yuma the same question he’d just been asked.
“What about you? What do you like?”
Yuma responded with a thoughtful hum. He turned to Taki, giving him a toothy grin. “If you’re the stars, doesn’t that make me the moon?”
He was anything but the moon. Yuma was far too bright, too warm, too open. His light touched everyone he met unsparingly, basking them in a golden glow that seemed to bring them to life. What once was wilted and faded before became beautiful and full when Yuma was around, like he truly made the world spin around him. Everything about him burned– perennial blue flames that held within them the potential to condense or explode or transform into a phenomena that scientists could only describe as brilliant and rare. Stars, like Yuma, painted the entire universe in their beauty. They’re steadfast; trustworthy guides capable of bringing lost souls back home, out of reach but never out of sight. Taki didn’t know much about astronomy, but he was sure that the universe couldn’t exist without stars. And by now he was convinced that people couldn’t exist without stars like Yuma either. Taki was the lonely moon that found its way when hit with a star’s bright light. His star was Yuma.
Even as these thoughts swirled at the back of his mind, the rest of him burst into chaotic screams, absolutely giddy at the thought of being Yuma’s complement. Forget stars and moons, he’d be happy as the pepper to Yuma’s salt or the water to his fire if it meant them being a pair. Unconvincingly, Taki fought the smile pulling up the corners of his lips, trying to look unfazed by the off-handed comment. His eyes locked onto the two pairs of earrings sitting side by side.
The more he thought about it, the more he convinced himself that maybe Yuma really could be the moon too. Sure, the moon had its phases, waxing and waning, sometimes there but cloaked in darkness. But sometimes, when it mattered most, the full face of the moon would light up the darkest of nights, giving light and hope to the shattered souls who couldn’t remember what day looked like, who stopped yearning for warmth to soak into their bones, who resigned themselves to wander alone through an endless string of midnights. It took a special kind to reach a hand out into those black depths with an unwavering strength and guide hopeless souls with all-encompassing softness to the first breaking rays of dawn. Truly, there was no safer place than within the embrace of the glow of the moon. And maybe it was weird to say about his roommate that he’d only known for a few months, but Taki thought if anyone could shepherd him to the ever-evading horizon, it was Yuma.
“Yeah, I love the moon,” he murmured, though he almost wasn’t sure if he’d said it out loud or if it was a residual echo of the thoughts rattling around his head. Taki couldn’t see Yuma’s face from where he was stooped over the counter admiring the jewelry, and if he’d heard what Taki had said, taken any meaning from it, he made no mention of it. Maybe it was just his imagination after all.
Before Taki could think about it too much the piercer appeared behind the counter, excitedly tapping her short, chrome-accented nails on the glass.
“So what are we thinking?” she asked in a sing-songy voice, looking back and forth between the two with a friendly and curious expression.
Reality hit Taki hard, his mouth going dry and his stomach churning again, an unpleasant mix of too much anxiety and not enough excitement, like bitter lemonade without the right amount of sugar. Compulsively, Taki’s finger found his other palm, scribbling into it to try to shake the nerves away. It was a ritual of his, a nervous habit even, that he didn’t even notice. Time seemed to slow as he wrote patterns into his hand, the earrings staring up at him with a cold gleam. This was supposed to be the moment he’d dreamed of. He had to swallow down the fear. Taki traced a symbol onto his hand one more time, and suddenly there were warm, calloused fingers sliding across his palm, gently interlacing their fingers together. Taki felt his nerves spike for a moment, panicking over the unfinished ritual. But the lightest brush of Yuma’s thumb across the back of his hand instantly settled him, the wrinkles in his head smoothening out, the beating of waves in his chest calming. Yuma’s hand grounded him like a weight keeping a balloon from taking off into the atmosphere. He looked over toward Yuma, who only held his hand a bit tighter as he spoke.
“I have a high lobe piercing on my left ear, like this,” Yuma used his free hand to show off his ear to the piercer, “I’d like to get a matching one on my right ear.”
“Okay, sick. We call that a nook piercing here. That’s easy enough! Did you find an earring that you like?” The piercer quickly swept her maroon hair up and twisted it messily beneath a large clip before reaching down to slide the glass door of the counter aside.
Yuma sidled up closer to Taki, their sides touching from shoulders to feet. Instead of letting go, he reached out with his other hand, pointing at the silver moons with a light tap to the glass. Though he only saw the back of his head, Taki could hear the smile in his voice as responded, “One of these silver moons, please. We’re going to match.”
He turned his head back as far as he could, grinning at Taki like a cat. Taki felt his cheeks heat up as his heart skipped a beat. Yuma, in typical fashion, rubbed his thumb across the back of Taki’s hand again, simultaneously making his heart beat faster and his thoughts settle. It didn’t make any sense– the way Yuma could create a storm and calm it at the same time– but all Taki could do was sit with it, let it all happen, and try to put the pieces together.
The piercer smiled knowingly to herself as she reached for the earring stand holding the stars and moons. She carefully placed it on the counter and plucked the silver moon from its surface, twirling it between her fingers and presenting it to the two.
“Is she the one?” she asked dramatically, like the host of a reality show.
Yuma nodded as his smile widened, “She’s beautiful.”
Taki desperately tried to ignore the clenching feeling in his stomach as the words lingered in his head. He shook it away, unconsciously grabbing tighter onto Yuma’s hand. The girl turned her attention to Taki.
“And what about you?”
He tried to respond, but had to choke down a mouthful of marbles before his voice came out. His voice was laden with apprehension and buzzing anticipation, like excitement and fear were fighting for control of his body. “I’d like the silver stars, please.”
Yuma held back a laugh, but couldn’t suppress the quick exhale of air through his nose. Taki looked at him, innocently wondering what was so funny.
“It’s Taki’s first time,” he quipped to the piercer, “Just regular lobe piercings.”
“Oooh first time, huh? And you decided to get pierced by me? Bold choice.” She gave Taki a smirk, to which he was completely oblivious. Instead, he looked at Yuma in horror. Yuma tried not to smile and reached out to tuck Taki’s hair behind his ear.
Yuma looked at him earnestly before dropping his hand. “She’s kidding, Taki.” He let out a breath. The piercer broke into giggles, covering her mouth with her hand.
“Didn’t mean to scare you!” she evened out her expression, offering a sincere smile instead. “I’ll take good care of you, I promise. It’ll be over before you even know it.”
The piercer took her time explaining how the process would go as she put their jewelry into small containers and completed their customer notes and after-care pamphlets. Finally, just as Taki’s anticipation climaxed, she ushered the two down a short corridor and into a small room with a bed straight out of a doctor’s office. His feet hesitated for a moment at the sight of it, wishing Yuma hadn’t let go of his hand just a minute before. Ahead of him, Yuma crossed the room in two confident strides and sat himself on the bed, his nonchalant manner giving Taki the strength he needed to take the next step and settle himself in the chair sitting beside him.
After setting up her tools, the piercer unveiled a purple marker and uncapped it with a flourish. “I’ll mark up the piercing first and let you see if you like the placement before I permanently alter your flesh.” The two laughed. “Sound good?”
Yuma agreed and the piercer stepped closer, angling his head just so and observing the lines of his face for a moment before making a small dot on his ear. She grabbed a hand mirror from the tray behind her, holding it up so Yuma could see her work.
“Looks perfect,” he stated after giving his head a tilt. He turned toward Taki, wrinkling his nose at him playfully.
“Well, let’s get on with it then, shall we?” Yuma nodded and leaned back against the bed. The piercer hovered above him with her tools in hand. “You know the drill by now, right? I’ll pierce on your exhale?”
“Yep, I’m ready.”
It was all moving so fast; Taki barely had the chance to process what was happening before the next step had already unfolded. His leg shook from nerves and he stifled the urge to draw into his hand again. He kept his eyes trained on the confluence of Yuma’s ear and the piercer’s hands.
The piercer counted up to three and placed the needle against Yuma’s ear. Yuma inhaled and let the breath go. As he exhaled, the piercer pushed the needle through his ear and quickly fit the earring into place. She carefully screwed the back on and backed up so she could check her work. She gave a quick nod and grabbed the mirror again.
She looked at Taki, “Not so bad, was it?”
Taki blinked, unsure how to respond. It was all a blur to him– she was fast and forceful, but not aggressive. Yuma didn’t seem to react much when she pierced him. Maybe it wasn’t that bad. That didn’t make him feel any better though.
“No, I guess not,” he responded anyway.
“That was the easiest one yet.” Yuma beamed at Taki as he took the mirror offered up to him. He gave himself a once over and started playing with his bangs like a preening cat. “I love it. What do you think, Taki?”
The two locked eyes and Taki had to rip his away to focus on his ear. It was obviously red, but somehow the silver moon hugging the top of his earlobe stood out more to him. Taki’s eyes widened, astonished by how something so small could make Yuma even more attractive. His cheeks reddened and his heart soared, not just because of Yuma, but also at the thought that in just a few minutes that might be him too. His eyes found Yuma’s again.
“It looks really good. I love it too.”
Yuma grinned at him. Within the next moment he was hopping down from the bed and pulling Taki by the arm to get him out of the chair. It was a silly gesture, but it wasn’t insistent. Taki could’ve resisted if he’d changed his mind and Yuma would have let him. But after seeing Yuma with his new piercing, the want within him grew hungrier. He clumsily climbed onto the bed and wriggled around until he was comfortable. While the piercer reset her station, Yuma gauged Taki’s feelings.
“Hey,” he said, seriously. Taki gave him a hum in response. “Do you still want to do this?”
Taki didn’t even let him finish before nodding.
“Are you sure? You don’t have to just because I did it.”
Taki mulled it over this time. It was possible that a tiny part of him didn’t want to let Yuma down or break their nonexistent promise, but for the most part, Taki wanted this for reasons he deemed anywhere from selfish to unidentifiable. This was something he’d always wanted, yes, but part of him also hoped that piercing his ears might make him pretty not just to others, but to himself. That reasoning was shallow though, and it only made up a small proportion of the motives he had for making this decision. He needed to do something. Life was dull and always just slightly askew, and something deep inside told him this was the solution. He had to know if that voice was right.
“I’m sure.”
The piercer twirled her marker between her fingers and raised her eyebrow at Taki.
“So, are we doing this?”
Taki nodded again, “yeah, let’s do it.” Despite the storm raging inside, his voice came out steady and sure of himself.
“I’ll draw us some guide marks then, alright?”
Everything felt slower now that it was his turn, and the piercer took her time to make matching dots on both of his earlobes and checking if Taki liked the placement. What felt like an hour was nothing more than a few minutes of practiced precision and craft, and finally she dropped her marker, satisfied.
Once the positions were verified, the false confidence that had gotten him onto the table drained away, leaving him with nothing but the shell of anxiety that had hardened over the course of the day. Taki let out a big breath, trying to release some of the pressure in his chest. He was overwhelmed with feelings: nervousness, anticipation, hope, apprehension, even the smallest hint of regret. They wound around his heart and strangled it like a vice, making it hard for Taki to take in another breath. Noise turned to buzzing in his ears, his piercer’s voice drowning inside. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shut off his mind for even just a moment. Taki took a shuddering breath, still choking on the air as it entered his lungs.
Suddenly, his hands were squeezed tight, warm and soft skin anchoring him back in reality. He opened his eyes to pale, slender fingers wrapped around his. He traced them up to Yuma’s face. He looked at Taki with nothing but assurance and devotion, eyes that said “I’m right here, I’ve got you,” and a tentative smile. He imperceptively nodded and Taki felt at ease, the grip on his heart loosening and sound returning to his ears.
“Okay Taki, I’m ready now. On three, I want you to take a big breath in for me, ok? And then just let it out when you’re ready.”
Blood still coursed through his body like electricity running through live wires, making his skin tingle from the static. This was it, the point of no return. The moment when he took one tiny step toward a bright light he’d always been too afraid to reach for. A dream he’d locked so deep inside that he’d almost forgotten until a raven-haired ball of chaos entered his life and knocked it loose. He had to do this. Not just for himself, but for the Taki who first wished for this moment all those years ago.
This wasn’t a countdown to his doom, to punishment, to death, to an unknown deadline. This was a countdown to a takeoff, a self-paced race, a long-anticipated milestone. Of course, Taki would never lie and say there weren’t still nerves hiding in the dark corners of his mind, maybe even his heart, but they paled in comparison to the beams of light refracting throughout his insides, all stemming from the point where Yuma’s hand met his. It was like a rare morning when the moon refused to slip under the western horizon while the sun rose in the east– the gentle guide of the moon giving its wayfarers to the warm embrace of the sun.
As the piercer counted, the numbers reverberated in his ears, his mind’s voice joining in like a chant. The moment “three” passed her lips, Taki swallowed all the air he could muster– as if it were his last breath before taking a dive into never-ending depths, like oxygen would never be the same again. He held the breath inside his lungs, savoring the way the air and the light swirled together within him, lending a floatiness to his body he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel again. This was the precipice, the threshold, and Taki was standing in it, ready to step back into the safety of the dark or fall into a spotlight with an uncharted audience. His feet chose before his mind could catch up with him. He let out the breath with force, expelling as much doubt and self-perceived expectation as he could.
There was pressure against his ear followed by a sharp pinch, then warmth pooling in to overcome the dull throb. Taki barely noticed a thing. The heavy fog that had taken permanent asylum within his head had thinned, its overwhelming haze reduced to something scalable, surmountable, if he found the strength. Taki opened his eyes, not remembering when he’d squeezed them shut. His gaze found Yuma’s immediately, who still looked at him reverently. The corners of his lips raised as they met eyes. Taki couldn’t help but smile with him.
“Halfway done!” the piercer sang out, breaking Taki from his daze, “How are you doing?” she asked, grabbing her tray table and circling the bed.
“It didn’t hurt at all,” Taki marvelled. Yuma squeezed his hands.
“You’re doing so well, Taki.” The calm, supportive tone of Yuma’s voice sent a pang through his heart. Warmth spread across his chest and licked at his fingers and toes, like sunbathing on the first warm day of spring. He was bound to get sunburned, without a doubt, but right now he didn’t care. Taki wanted to soak in as much of this warmth as the sun would allow.
The piercer took a minute to reset her tools and line up the needle on Taki’s other ear. Yuma softly stroked the back of his hands, keeping him from floating off into space. Part of him thought he should respond to Yuma’s support or at least fill the silence. Even so, the rest of him was content in the quiet, nothing but the sounds of their breath and muffled voices somewhere in the studio. More than content, Taki thought words weren’t really necessary in this moment. Everything he wanted to say, everything he felt, Yuma would know. Maybe with action, maybe just by divine intuition. Taki turned his palms over, seeking the spaces between Yuma’s fingers. Thank you for helping me through this, his gesture said. He looked at Yuma again, a crooked smile lighting up his face as he spread his own fingers and hooked them around Taki’s hands. Yuma opened and closed his fingers once, silently replying.
“Ready for round two?” Taki nearly jumped at the sudden noise.
“Yeah, I think so.” He almost nodded, forgetting the position he was in.
“Then we’ll do it just like the first one. Breathe out on three.”
No other countdown would ever compare to the way that three seconds lasted an eternity. Everything was agonisingly slow despite Taki’s world being on the brink of changing forever, good or bad. Others might call him dramatic for the whole ordeal, might say he exaggerated, but they’d never understand how it felt to be just seconds away from fulfilling a dream they didn’t think they were allowed to dream. They wouldn’t know how it felt to have the eyes of every version of themselves watching the scene like this was the moment they’d lived for, waited for, cried for. No, they wouldn’t get it. Maybe not a single soul on earth would. The thought of being alone scared him. But even if he didn’t understand it, Yuma supported Taki’s dream, and that was enough. Yuma’s hands were still entwined with Taki’s; he wasn’t alone.
On the piercer’s mark, Taki sucked in a breath and released it immediately. Taki focused on the feeling of Yuma’s skin against his and imagined what he’d do once his ears healed, the pinch coming and going again only on the very edge of his awareness. The piercer pulled back for a moment, examining her work. Taki slowly sat up, shifting the mass of hands down to his lap.
“Voila! All done!” She lifted the mirror up in front of Taki, angled down so the pair’s hands gleamed in the reflection. “I’ll let you do the honors.”
Reluctantly- and with hidden hesitance- Taki untangled his fingers from Yuma’s. His hands began to tremble as he reached for the mirror and wrapped his fingers around the handle. He clung to the mirror with all of his strength, sure he’d fall even if he was sitting down. He’d been so ready just before this, but worry crept back in like a weed he just couldn’t eradicate. Now Taki wasn’t sure; was this the right choice? Would it look okay? What would people say? Was this even what he wanted? What if it wasn’t what he thought it would be? He didn’t know if he could bear it if this wasn’t what he’d imagined. He might be through the doorway now, but the door wasn’t closed yet. He could sit here, suspended in the in between, for as long as it took.
Yuma’s hand settled on Taki’s thigh, an anchoring presence tethering him back to reality. No, he couldn’t stay this way, huddled by the fire exit so he could escape at the first sign of danger. If he took a step, or two or three, the door wouldn’t be slammed behind him. He lifted the mirror, finding his face and pulling back to see his whole head, his arms freezing as the shimmering, silver studs slid into view.
Taki sucked in a breath, half gasp, half sob as his eyes flew back and forth from one ear to the other. Taki’s entire chest cracked open, instantly flooded with a million emotions. He couldn’t have named them all if he tried- his mind was completely blank- but among them were relief, joy, disbelief, exhilaration, awestruck wonder. Taki felt that same feeling he’d had when he’d seen himself with the earcuff just a few weeks before: like he’d sprouted wings and would start flying, like the world was suddenly saturated with color, like everything was exactly right, only ten times stronger now. Something about it hurt, not a bad hurt at all, but a dull ache all the same, as if someone was pushing down on a bruise that hadn’t fully healed.
Taki turned his head back and forth slowly, observing the earrings from every angle as they shone in the light. Tears welled in his eyes as the thought hit him. That’s me. The person he saw in the mirror wasn’t a figment of his imagination, wasn’t smoke and mirrors, wasn’t the monochrome face he’d grown used to either. The person he saw in the mirror was Taki. For the first time in his life he could see exactly who he was supposed to be, who he’d wanted to be. And it wasn’t someone else. It was who he was. Who they were. They didn’t dare say the words out loud, but “pretty” crossed their mind and was claimed by their heart before they could brush it away. Maybe now they could believe it.
They were so overwhelmed by it all, still not sure what to think, so they turned to Yuma with tears sparkling in their eyes. Yuma looked them over, eyes smiling along with his lips, and spoke with a breathy, enthralled voice.
“You’re so pretty, Taki.”
The last shred of Taki’s composure crumpled, breaking down into whimpers. This moment was too beautiful, too picture-perfect, the type of moment you’d remember your whole life. The weight Taki always carried around felt so much lighter, they weren’t running up a perpetual hill, they’d found a missing piece they didn’t even know they’d been looking for. And through all of it– the fear of admitting, the stress of going through the process, the anxiety of making a choice, the joy of realizing a dream– Yuma had been there. Even now, Yuma acted like no one in the world existed but them, like it was Taki, and Yuma, and nothing else but time. Yuma stood, wrapped his arms around Taki gently and cradled their head against his shoulders, smoothing their hair in feather-light strokes.
Taki squeezed their arms around Yuma, fistfulls of his shirt balled up in their hands. Yuma didn’t rush them, didn’t push them away or shush them. He gave Taki all the space and time they needed to dissect each feeling that churned inside of them. They were certain about exactly one thing: this was the happiest moment of their entire life. How long would Taki have stumbled through the darkness if Yuma’s kindness hadn’t given them the courage to fight their way to the light? And how were they supposed to tell Yuma how much it all meant to them? Their mind was a mess, but they still tried to sputter out a cohesive thought between sobs.
“Yuma- I- I- you-” But every word died on their tongue and was replaced with something new before they could get it out.
Yuma shushed them lightly, hugging them deeper so that their nose was nuzzled into his neck. “I know.”
Taki didn’t know how long they stayed there, probably way longer than they should have. It never would’ve been long enough to them. And when they finally made their way back to the dorms, Taki stared at themself in the mirror until Yuma dragged them to bed. Yuma threw himself down beside Taki and they didn’t protest. They let Yuma toss an arm around them and Taki’s forehead fall against his sternum. On the brink of sleep, fuzzy enough in their mind to feel made up, they swore they heard Yuma whisper:
“I’m so proud of you, beautiful.”
A soft pressure grazed the top of their head for a millisecond before disappearing. And Taki dozed off in a serene warmth, blissfully unaware of it all.