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nutteu · 7 months

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Doesn’t this summer feel like fall?

[AO3]

The only time Sykkuno ever smiled was when Toast got close enough to make him blush; prettily, like a hue of sunset close to nightfall. Maybe that was the first mistake—to adore a boy who strayed close enough to Toast’s heart, long enough for him to love. [Toast/Sykkuno; Evangelion au; published 2021-08-16; word count: 17,000]

this is more like post-apocalypse au, but set in the aftermath of The End of Evangelion. you don't need prior knowledge to the franchise to read this as it's only referenced here and there. this is most probably the softest thing i have ever written, and they didn't even kiss after so many buildups lmao. do read the tags, please, there would be a ton of references to past abuse traumas and i don't want any of you to be triggered.

if you're okay with it (and it'll be okay in the end, promise), read ahead and enjoy.

The world was ruined, everything re-started from the beginning of the downfall.

Toast stared at the train, stopped for a small eternity. There was dried blood on the window, rotting bodies that had turned into skeletons sleeping inside. He walked past it to his compound, hearing the unheard cries of the dead. Grass and vegetation had started to grow around the fallen train, and Toast hopped over them, over the train; over an old life that seemed so far away.

The world was empty, lonely, and yet crowded at the same time. The sea of LCL stretched as far as the eyes could see. This was the price of perfection, of love, of loneliness and longing. Shinji Ikari condemned the world so he wouldn’t be lonely anymore, so he could be one with people who held him dear. Maybe condemned wasn’t the right word; the world had condemned Shinji first, after all. He was just trying to protect the fragile love in his broken heart. Toast didn’t understand love and loneliness so consuming it drove the boy to trigger the Third Impact.

Maybe he was too cold to hold that love in the soft embrace of his ribcage.

The paths that he took were familiar and foreign. Empty buildings, trees that had grown right in the middle of a crack on the road, the confused faces of those who emerged from the sea of LCL to find the world in ruins after the tranquility of Human Instrumentality, of unity in the sea of consciousness. Toast was alone for a long time. He had never understood the importance of unity, of single minds compiled into one. He pulled himself off of the sea pretty easily. He was always an independent individual.

The bag of supplies on his shoulder felt heavy, but Toast got used to it. He stepped over the orange liquid splattered on the ground, the only thing left of someone’s existence in this world, unless they pulled themselves out of the Instrumentality. He didn’t honor nor mourn the dead, but he didn’t want to bother them either. Especially such a sudden death that no one expected. Wasn’t exactly a death if one could come back from it, however. Still, the world was empty and lonely and crowded, he supposed it was hard for a lot of people to pull themselves out of the warm embrace of unity.

The guards on his compound nodded to him. He was a valued member of the community; fast learner, good scavenger, formidable fighter after nearly two years of practicing. His mind sharp enough to make his opinions count, and a sense of humor that these broken people could appreciate. He was known. He sometimes didn’t know whether he enjoyed this sudden popularity or not.

There was a crowd when he was done depositing the supplies and went to get his lunch. Toast was old, felt older than he really was. He wasn’t interested in commotion and celebration. He just wanted to live long enough to die on his own terms. But even Lily, the girl who had designed their makeshift compounds and painted the specific temporary housing bright and cute for the children, made a fuss.

“What is it?” he asked, probably already knowing.

“Someone emerged from the sea, just a short while after you arrived,” Lily said, excited by the news. New members of the community meant that more people could help rebuild the world, less loneliness for them all. Sometimes they recognized familiar faces, sometimes they stayed away because they couldn’t cope with the loss of their loved ones.

“Yeah,” he said, impatient as the commotion halted the line to the food station. “What about it?”

“I don’t know,” Lily said, jumping around to see above the crowd. Tough luck, considering her height.

The crowd was muttering things, a lot of people talking at the same time. It was hard for him to discern what they were talking about, but it was easy to tell them to disperse. People listened to him, for obvious reasons. He could see clearer now that the crowd had dissipated.

A boy, swaddled in a blanket, sat on Ray’s lap as the doctor asked him questions in gentle cadence. He was shivering, frail as a newborn fawn. Toast could understand the commotion—the boy was pretty, delicate, and he was covered in scars. His brown eyes darted everywhere as if searching for an exit, despite being in an open space. He was scared, and Toast felt the sudden ache when he realized what those scars meant. He’d forgone his lunch and stepped closer.

“You’re going to be okay, Sykkuno,” Ray said, though he sounded heartbroken. He had understood, too, the fear that wafted off of this boy in waves. They both were the same age, Ray and Toast. They had seen a fair share of the world and experienced both the good and the bad. They had seen atrocities, and this boy looked like a victim of one. “It might be confusing now, but we’ll help you, okay?”

The boy didn’t nod. He looked almost close to crying, red rimmed around the eyes. “Is- is there a woman here who looks like me? Goes by the name T-Theresa, tall with- with black hair? Around- around forty-ish in age.”

“No,” Toast said, startling the boy badly that he curled up into Ray even more. Toast stopped, carefully approached them and knelt in front of the boy. “There’s someone named Theresa here, but she’s different from the one you’re describing. She’s young, only six years old.”

There was an inexplicable relief written on the boy’s face that he let out in a soft exhale. Theresa was the abuser, then, Toast thought. He gritted his teeth. He didn’t care much about the world, even back then. But there was something heartbreaking in someone who had been beaten, body and soul, to the point of defeat, of deep-seated fear that made them unable to think straight unless they were sure that his abuser wasn’t in the same space as them. Maybe even then.

“Let’s get you dressed up, and then you can eat something, okay?” Ray said, gathering the boy in his arms and lifted him easily. He had always been stronger than Toast, despite being a doctor instead of scavenger or fighter. He nodded at Toast with a small smile before he brought the trembling boy into a small, wooden housing.

Only several houses had bricks and concrete built into them, mainly for storage and supplies. The rest of their compounds consisted of wooden houses, tents, and open spaces. They didn’t have much choice when the world was in ruin; long enough to corrode the existence of humankind and its creations. Long enough to let nature run its course.

Toast stared at Ray’s retreating back, disappearing into the house. He breathed in a soft inhale, and continued his walk towards the food station. Ray would take care of the boy, so Toast shouldn’t have to worry. He wasn’t worried, but he was hurt. He didn’t expect himself to feel this way, but maybe it was because he hadn’t been in contact with an abuse victim this close. He had had friends who suffered from physical, mental, and emotional abuse. But they were the same age as Toast and they were reluctant in telling anyone, too.

That boy looked like he was barely twenty, thin and frail with eyes so full of fear and wild instinct. Maybe he was getting older, enough to feel the paternal instinct of protecting someone. Maybe Toast was getting soft, after two years living in constant presence of someone else, as opposed to his old life. Whatever the reason was, he shouldn’t dwell on it. There were millions of people like Sykkuno, and this compound had some of them as well. Toast never interacted with them directly, but he had seen them and the way they always made sure that no one got close enough to hurt them. He shouldn’t put too much thought into this.

Sykkuno took to Ray in his confusion, and that renewed the hurt. Not only was he hurt, he was lonely and in need of physical and emotional affection, too. Theresa might be his mother, someone who was supposed to protect and fulfill his emotional needs as a child. She did the exact opposite, and pushed even further, if those scars were to be trusted.

The lunch was bland, as usual. But he ate without complaint, it was better than nothing after all. They grew their own food, too, but this land really wasn’t that good in growing spices. What was left in stores either had expired or rot in the absence of use. They gathered everything they could to feed the compound of nearly a hundred people.

“Did you see the new guy?” Karl asked, sitting in front of him.

Toast hummed noncommittally, but didn’t look up from his lunch. Karl was young, easily excitable, a jester with a penchant of cuddling people to death. It must have been great news to him for someone his age to emerge from the sea. He listened to Karl prattling about what he did today, replying here and there with short sentences that everyone in this compound was used to. The new boy was in his mind as well, for a different reason.

Toast sighed. Maybe he should take that suggestion of mentoring someone. He really needed to get a grip and let out this sudden protectiveness. It was something strange, something new, and Toast didn’t do well with variables that he hadn’t dissected to the last piece. Sykkuno couldn’t exactly be dissected now, could he? He had had enough of that from his mother. He was scattered in pieces already, and Toast could see it.

“What’s on your mind?” Karl inquired, curious. Everyone was always curious about Toast, he didn’t get the interest. What was so interesting about a curt man in his thirties, anyway? These people were weird.

“The mentoring program, I’ll take one,” he said, making a decision he wasn’t completely sure about.

“Oh!” the younger boy exclaimed, eyes alight with new excitement. “Who is it? You’ve never really answered my request of being your mentee.”

“Definitely not you. You’re a menace,” Toast said, laughing when he saw the dejected face. “I don’t know, haven’t decided yet.”

“You break my heart, Toast,” Karl said, feigning hurt as he covered his chest with his palm.

“Good to know,” he replied, wanted to say, no, Karl, he broke my heart. That new boy with his scars.

Toast listened as the leader of their compound droned about supply gathering plans, rebuilding several wooden houses and tents, and showing a new map that had been marked by the scouts and scavengers. The mentoring program was talked about, too. They needed more people capable of taking roles in this community. He hesitated, and decided to keep the decision for himself for now.

Ray reported about the people who had emerged from the sea, how many of them decided to stay and how many had decided to leave to live on their own. Sykkuno was amongst those who wanted to stay. Toast figured that the boy couldn’t exactly live by himself in his current state. They went over the details of supplies count, and other business that Toast listened to with half an ear.

They had started to invite him to these meetings a few months after he joined the compound. He had emerged a year before that, and had lived by himself before he realized that he couldn’t go on like that. He was apt in a lot of things because he had survived long enough to know the way of the new world, and they saw that as something valuable.

“How’s the boy?” he asked after the meeting was over.

Ray smiled, in a way that Toast hated the most—soothing and placating, as if he knew something he wasn’t telling. Probably for a good reason, considering that Toast never asked about someone like this, never took interest in someone for the whole two years he had been here.

“Recovering,” he said simply.

“You’re difficult to talk to,” Toast said, walking alongside the man as they approached the food station. He needed breakfast before he went on rebuilding the houses.

“Says you,” Ray teased, then relented. “Still afraid of everyone. The nurses can’t touch him; he’ll just cower and hide. He- he’s really good at hiding.”

Toast sighed. “Of course he is,” he said, looking down at his walking feet. Sykkuno had to be good at hiding, or the consequences would be dire. “How soon will he recover?”

“His body? In a week, less perhaps. He’s resilient,” Ray said. They took a seat and started eating. “His mind? Not for a long time.”

“Figured,” Toast muttered around the bread. The bread was good; the cooks made it themselves from scratch. It was one of the few good foods in this compound. “Where will he stay? With you?”

“Yeah,” the doctor nodded. “For the time being, at least. He really doesn’t trust anyone.”

“Hard to when the only thing he can trust is the certainty of pain,” Toast said, biting back more comments. He wasn’t usually this melancholic.

“He’s going to be quite a work, if he were to stay,” Ray said, sighing. “I’m fond of him, but I’m not sure he can stay alive long enough to convince himself to continue on living. Even after you’ve confirmed his mother isn’t here.”

“Theresa really is his mother, then?”

“She is,” Ray nodded. He smiled wistfully, clenching his plate. “He’s convinced that she might still be out there somewhere, and that she’ll find him. He’s—he’s hurt and he’s breaking my heart, Toast.”

Toast swallowed around nothing. You and I both, Ray, he thought.

He didn’t meet Sykkuno until a week later. The boy stayed inside Ray’s personal tent—for he was a doctor, and certain people in this community had their own place, including Toast—and didn’t come out unless Ray asked him to. He only ever came out to take a half an hour walk around the compound, before the sight of people became too much for him, and he retreated again.

Ray was right; it would be hard for Sykkuno to stay in this community. He was afraid of people, and he was too out of his mind to be a properly functional member. They would let him stay, because Ray had done a lot for them. But it was hard not to judge someone who didn’t want to mingle, when they were so close-knitted after what was essentially the apocalypse that had descended upon them.

Toast made sure to position himself in Sykkuno's line of sight. But the boy still tensed up, even when Toast lifted both of his hands to sign that he wouldn’t hurt him. He stopped, then looked down at the knife strapped at his waist, then looked at the scar protruding on Sykkuno's collarbone. He sighed and put the knife down, he’d retrieve it later. Only then did the boy let up a little from curling into himself.

“Do you remember me?” Toast asked, careful to sit a few paces away from the boy. The boy nodded hesitantly. “I’m Toast,” he said. “You’re Sykkuno, right?”

“Yeah,” he answered, voice soft and a little deep, a little light; a juxtaposition that matched his fragility and his resilience. His endurance from the onslaught of pain.

“Have you walked around the compound today?”

“No,” Sykkuno said, looking down in guilt. Ray was away to treat someone who had been hurt while they scavenged.

“Let’s walk,” Toast said, standing up slowly.

Sykkuno looked bewildered, but Toast’s words really left no room for argument. He had that habit; maybe that was why people listened to him. They had no chance to refuse. He stood up too, but he hesitated. Afraid to say something. Toast reined his sigh, and asked instead: “What’s wrong?”

The boy still looked hesitant, so Toast did his best to remember what Ray usually did to soothe him before their walk. Toast bygone all the soft, placating talk that the doctor did. He wasn’t built for that. What else? Jacket. Ray usually gave Sykkuno his jacket to cover himself up even more. He curled up close to Ray when they walked, with Ray’s arm wrapped around the smaller, though taller, body. Hands, too. They held hands most of the time.

Toast didn’t have his jacket with him. So, he carefully offered his hand for Sykkuno to take, breathed out a sigh of relief when the boy slowly took it. Once their hands touched, however, Sykkuno clenched tight and hurried to be by his side. Toast swallowed. This boy was going to hurt him for a long time.

“Has Ray introduced you to the layout of this place?” he asked as they started to walk. He had left his knife back on the ground near Ray’s tent. He hoped someone would see and retrieve it for him.

“Yes,” Sykkuno said. He seemed to only answer in one syllable. Yes, no; the only time he ever talked so much was when Ray asked him a question. Toast wondered if he would get the same treatment. Sykkuno seemed to be okay with him, considering they were still holding hands now.

“The people?”

The boy stopped, then bit his lip. “N-not yet,” he said, “it’s still too much for me.”

“I know someone who won’t be too much,” Toast said. There was something in his chest that felt like satisfaction. Sykkuno did extend that treatment to him.

“Okay,” the boy said, “if- if you say so.”

They found Corpse with Tina and Karl, making baskets and boxes out of thinned, dried roots. Tina was adept at it, but Karl and Corpse were always so bad with their crafts. At the very least they’d be learning something. The younger ones had a more lax schedule than the older occupants. These kids were only eighteen and nineteen. They were too young to experience how harsh the world had become.

“This is Tina,” he gestured to the confused but smiling brightly girl. “That’s Karl, and Corpse.”

Sykkuno gripped his hand tightly, scooting closer to hide behind Toast. He knew that this wasn’t what he said. But he figured Tina and Karl could be the buff to the conversation. Because while Corpse might understand Sykkuno's shyness and reluctance of contact, they both could end up in silence from their awkwardness. Toast couldn’t really help with that; he was bad with casual conversations, too. And his usual cutthroat way of speaking wouldn’t bode well with Sykkuno's state of mind right now. He needed some guidance, softness, affection, and protection. Toast could help with the first and the last, but these kids could fill in everything in-between.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, turning to rub a thumb on Sykkuno's jaw, startled by himself. He wasn’t usually this touchy and affectionate. He figured that he was unconsciously catering to this boy’s mood. “They’re good people. They can ease you into the community. They won’t hurt you.”

“Will—“ Sykkuno started, then glanced at the three, and back at him. “Will you stay?”

He was supposed to finish the walk and go back to building the houses, but he nodded anyway. “Yeah, I’ll be here with you.”

“Okay,” the boy said, letting out a shaky exhale. “Okay, then.”

Toast guided him to sit, not too close to them. Sykkuno immediately pressed close to his side, fingers clenching so tightly that Toast’s palm hurt from it. He felt the whisper of despair when he felt the roughness of Sykkuno's own palm, the jagged edges of his scars. The only place that didn’t seem to be touched by his mother was his face, probably to alleviate suspicion. He felt the bitter tang of anger on his tongue, and swallowed it whole. Sykkuno was so afraid that he couldn’t be angry anymore; someone had to do that for him.

As he expected, Tina eased Sykkuno into the conversation with her lilting, high-pitched voice. Karl seemed to tone down his usual energy when he sensed Sykkuno's hesitation and fear. Corpse startled Sykkuno badly when he first talked, but Toast was right when he said that he wouldn’t be too much for the boy. They both had been hurt, though differently. They shared and understood the pain of fear and loneliness, of absence of affection. Two victims of abuse, coming from the same source, with different methods and the same outcome.

What a pair they had made.

Toast found out that Sykkuno was actually older than he thought. Age worked differently after the whole Third Impact debacle. Bodies were preserved in the LCL liquid, but time went on. Sykkuno was twenty when the apocalypse happened, but it had been nearly five years since the Impact. It was a little bit confusing for Toast, too, at first. He didn’t know whether he was in his twenties or his thirties. He had only been awakened for a little bit more than three years. Sometimes he said that he was thirty-two, sometimes thirty. Mostly he just settled with thirty, because it was easier to count the time he actually lived in, rather than the time spent in the sea of LCL.

Sykkuno looked younger than twenty, looked younger than even the other three kids. Maybe it was because he was so small; gangly with height that the muscle mass didn’t balance out. Toast looked at his side profile as he talked with a small voice. His voice was soothing, gentle. Toast didn’t want to think as to why he was so afraid of raising his voice even a notch from that.

He worked as a part-time streamer and full time program developer as he finished his bachelor's degree. He must have been incredibly smart, to finish bachelor's that early. They could use him in the meetings and storage management later on, after he was used to the community. He could do this, Toast thought. He could be the one guiding Sykkuno. Ray was far too indulging and busy with his responsibilities to do that. Toast was busy, too, but it was mostly because he was an all-rounder that did a little of everything around here.

When they got back, and Sykkuno was a little bit less tense than before, he approached the subject. “There’s this program in our community,” he started, gauging the reaction. Sykkuno listened to him with brown eyes blinking slowly. Toast heaved a deep breath. “A mentoring program. We need everyone to do their share, and we’ll teach them how to do it. I’ve been suggested to take a mentee. Would you like to be mine?”

Perhaps, he should have worded it differently. But Sykkuno didn’t seem to be bothered. He just bit his lip, and mulled over it. He was smart; he should know that he had to contribute sooner than later. He could just stay and do nothing, of course. Ray, and probably Toast, would ensure his safety here. But he still needed to merge with the community to properly live here. Toast at least could teach him that, if anything.

“Sleep on it,” Toast said when they arrived at Ray’s tent. The knife was still there. He paid it no mind; he’d take it once Sykkuno was inside. “Talk to me later about it if you want. But tell me directly if you don’t want it.”

“Okay,” Sykkuno said. Toast opened the tent flap for him, and he walked inside without a single glance back.

Toast took his knife, and walked to the house he was rebuilding two days ago. He felt apprehensive, anticipation building in his gut. He didn’t know he wanted this as much as he did right now. But this might be good. He could focus on Sykkuno, and it’d lessened the tightness in his schedule as well. Sykkuno was smart and he was sure that he could make the boy adapt faster than people expected of him.

He thought about it, about his own expectations. There was nothing he found but desire to see Sykkuno a little less afraid, a little less feeling like he was being hunted. Those feelings made him halt his step, and he was left there, floundering in his thoughts.

Toast saw Sykkuno smile for the first time on one cloudy morning. It was something soft, as delicate as the rest of him. It was barely there, but Toast saw it as clear as the sun that wasn’t present on that morning. Ray was talking to him in a gentle voice, touching the side of Sykkuno's face. When they embraced, Sykkuno stiffened, but relaxed gradually. The smile graced his lips when Ray softly carded his fingers through his hair.

Toast turned to the house he was finishing, the smile stayed in his mind for a long time. It felt important, somehow. Small and soft, breaking Toast’s heart even further. He wondered when it would break completely in Sykkuno's presence.

They made it into a habit, walking together around the compound. The time spent introducing Sykkuno to each building and, at times, people, stretched longer each day. Sykkuno had taken to Corpse, as Toast had expected, and they would spend some time talking with Tina and Karl. Sometimes, Toast would see Corpse visiting Sykkuno, the two of them sitting in front of the tent talking in low voices. Their voices matched wonderfully; a deep baritone and something light. It was like seeing the shadow and the cloudy, gentle morning. They had bonded together in such a short time in their experiences.

Toast didn’t envy Corpse and the way he had nestled himself in Sykkuno's heart so quickly. They both had gone through a lot. He was just glad they found each other, a place to confide and rest their tired souls on.

Sykkuno accepted his offer after a little more than a week. So, Toast relayed it to their leader, and arranged for a schedule. He would ease Sykkuno into knowing the compound and the responsibilities around here, before taking him out for field jobs. The boy remembered everything Toast taught him with terrifying competency; he knew the layout of their compound in and out by now, knew each role and the responsibilities, and had proven Toast right when he could ration their supplies diligently.

He was afraid of children and women that matched the descriptions for his mother. He stayed away from loud places, and still curled into himself whenever people approached him. Toast couldn’t leave him even for a second, and he was thankful that he suggested this mentoring program. It was only time before Sykkuno moved into his tent.

“Eat,” Toast said, piling Sykkuno's plate up with half of his share. “You need the strength for when I taught you the practicalities of field jobs.”

“Don’t you need to eat too?” Sykkuno asked.

He talked more, these days. Still with that soft cadence of his voice, but he nearly never smiled. He only had this quick tilt of his lips that was gone before anyone could really see it. He smiled properly a few times around Corpse and Ray, but that was that. It was as if he was unused to smiling, and he probably was. Toast sighed and broke another piece of his heart with his own hands. They were bound to be as scattered as Sykkuno's anyway; he should just get on with it.

“You need it more,” Toast said. “Eat.”

Sykkuno was obedient to everything Toast told him to do. He was defiant only when he felt threatened. But there were times when Toast saw mischief on his face when he was around Karl and Tina. He looked young, less gaunt and haunted, when he was around the two. He was incredibly gentle around Corpse, and careful around everyone else. There were tics like touching the scar on his palm, hiding behind someone or something, and immediately taking notes of each exit in every room he visited.

Toast had never seen Sykkuno in anything but a long-sleeved shirt. But there were times when the sleeve rode up, and Toast nearly keeled over from pain when he saw multiple scars on the underside of Sykkuno's forearm. There was a long, linear scar that cut through the smaller ones. He swallowed the sympathy and unshed tears in his throat, and wrapped his jacket around Sykkuno securely. As if he could protect him from his past.

“Can you drive?” Toast asked. They had fixed cars and two trucks, usually used for long treks and heavy supplies.

“Not a car,” Sykkuno answered. “I can only ride motorcycles.”

“Okay, we’ll start with that today,” he decided, then halted when he saw the mounting fear in Sykkuno's eyes. “What is it?”

“I don’t like cars,” Sykkuno said, fidgeting with his sleeves. “I’ve been trapped in one so often.”

There was something more to it, because Sykkuno unconsciously stepped back from him. Toast prevented that by reaching for his hand to hold. “Tell me if you want, but don’t say anything if you’re uncomfortable. I won’t judge.” He wouldn’t, really; he’d probably just feel angry, again. Everything that had been done to this boy made him ache and breathless with rage. He had never felt this protective over someone before.

Sykkuno stayed in his silence, so Toast nodded and started steering them to the unfinished buildings instead. They could start with that today instead. But then, Sykkuno stopped walking and tugged at Toast’s hand. He waited, and then regretted ever asking because the boy said: “Mom hit me with a car because I tried to run away.”

Oh, he thought, oh, Jesus fucking Christ, what the fuck is wrong with that woman. He couldn’t help it when his body moved on its own, embracing Sykkuno so tightly that the boy startled. “She’s not here,” he said, feeling Sykkuno hesitantly wrap his own arms around Toast. “Even if she emerges from the sea one day, she’ll never take you away from us. I’ll protect you. I’ll kill her if I have to.”

There was a hitch in Sykkuno's breath, before Toast felt tears seeping into the fabric on his shoulder. Sykkuno's body shook with a shudder as he cried, and Toast felt helpless in the face of the magnitude of this boy’s tragedy. He felt tears pricked at his eyes, too, and blinked them back. Sykkuno's tears were enough; this wasn’t a hardship that Toast understood, but he could sympathize. He held the boy tightly in his arms until the shaking resided.

“Let’s take a walk outside, today,” Toast said, making his decisions. “I’ll show you a place I usually go to when I want to get away from the crowd.”

They started the long trek to one of the buildings that overlooked the sea of LCL. Toast put down their bags of supplies as he guided Sykkuno to sit on the piano bench. Someone had left it there, a piano in a building with no roofs. Roots had clamored around the ground, rooting around the piano. It was unusable now, but Toast liked the sight. He liked being in this sunlit room, a tree growing from between the cracks on the floor, with vines covering the walls.

“It’s beautiful,” Sykkuno whispered, looking around the room.

Toast nodded and smiled, looking at him as he marveled at the grass-covered piano. He tried touching the key, and pressed one. It produced a weird sound, and Toast held his breath when a smile blossomed on Sykkuno's lips. It was even more breathtaking than the first smile he had witnessed. Something sincere, that stretched his plush lips with a hint of happiness in it. There was something wistful in the way his fingers ghosted over the keys, as if playing a silent song.

“Can you play?” he asked, breaking the silence.

Sykkuno nodded. “I used to play, when things were better.” The smile turned bitter, then. “My mom was the one who taught me to play. She was really good at it.”

Toast bit his lip. There was something going on with Sykkuno and his mother, more than the abuse. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to ask, however. So, he just said, “If we find a working piano, can you teach me?”

Sykkuno stammered, but there was a flush of happiness on his gaunt cheeks. Toast really should feed him more. “I- I mean, I’m not exactly good at it. And- and it was so long ago since I last played.”

“You can teach me the goddamned Twinkle-Twinkle song and I’d still be happy about it,” Toast said.

There was something that wasn’t quite a smile that ghosted over Sykkuno's lips. He nodded. “Okay, I can teach you that, at least.”

“What else can you play?”

“Oboe,” Sykkuno answered immediately.

Toast stared, and stared, then burst out laughing when Sykkuno's impeccable mask cracked to reveal a small, mischievous smile. “You’re such a dumbass,” he said, though there was fondness in his words.

“I can play bass a little,” he admitted, rubbing the scar on his palm again.

Toast reached for his hand so Sykkuno could fidget with his fingers instead. He didn’t like that Sykkuno kept touching his scars as if to remind himself that he should hold back, lest he’d be hurt. “Can you cook?”

“Uh,” Sykkuno mumbled. “I mean, I can microwave something?”

“You’re not as perfect as I thought,” Toast said, faux relief all over his face. “Thank God for that.”

“W-wha—“ the boy stammered, then Toast saw the most brilliant thing. Red flush started to climb from his neck, to dust his cheeks with blush. He looked pretty, prettier still when he brought one hand up to cover his smile.

He let it happen, let it wash over his tired soul. They sat on the piano bench for a long time, bags of supplies at their feet, enjoying the sunlit room in comfortable silence.

“You’re getting along well with Sykkuno,” Ray said, smiling from ear to ear.

“Stop giving me that look, you’re creeping me out,” Toast replied, choosing clothes for Sykkuno from the pile in their storage room. “Of course we’re getting along, he’s my mentee.”

“You’re deflecting,” the doctor laughed. “You’re always deflecting when you know someone is right and you’re uncomfortable with your feelings.”

“Wow,” he deadpanned. “Wasn’t aware that you’re a psychologist, too.”

“I was supposed to,” Ray said easily. “I took it before I changed my major.”

Toast groaned. “Shut the fuck up, Yanal.”

“Alright, alright,” Ray laughed, lifting both hands in surrender. “But it’s good, you know? For you and him. The both of you seem to be more open now.”

“And, pray tell, what do you mean by that?” Because it was ridiculous. Toast was a secretive person, but he was nowhere near Sykkuno's level of fear of contact.

“You don’t see it,” the other man said, as if saying something of a wonder. “You always keep to yourself, Toast. Like you’re here, but detached at the same time. You feel more real when he’s around you.”

He stayed silent, swallowing around nothing. Yeah, he- he didn’t know that. Was his fondness really that obvious? He couldn’t help it. Everyone was protective of Sykkuno, everyone that he allowed to be close. Toast just happened to be the closest one given their arrangement.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Ray said, smiling gently before he turned to head towards the door to terrorize other people with his psychoanalysis.

Toast looked at the short-sleeved shirt that he was holding. He was about to fold it back into the pile, because he knew that Sykkuno wouldn’t want to wear it. But… he could- he could make Sykkuno trust him enough to wear it, inside their tent at the very least. He wanted Sykkuno to trust him, enough for that to be possible.

He thought about Ray’s words. Sykkuno was soft and gentle, mischievous and scarily smart. He got used to Toast’s humor and cutting words in such a short time. He didn’t shy away from Toast’s touches, and sometimes—sometimes he would smile, unabashed and uncovered, because of Toast. He remembered just how that smile made something twist and unclench at the same time in his chest.

He took a deep breath, and put the shirt into his bag.

Sykkuno moved into his tent a few weeks later. Ray asked Toast to stay around to talk to him privately as Sykkuno deposited his meager belongings in the tent.

“Here’s what you need to know,” Ray said. “He talks in his sleep, usually just mumbles. Get used to it because it happens almost every night. He won’t remember to eat and sleep unless you remind him to. He has nightmares, bad ones. Wake him up, but don’t immediately touch him until he’s conscious enough to know that it’s you. Get him away from sharp things if you’re going to leave him for a long period of time with no supervision. Give him privacy when he’s undressing, he doesn’t like it when people see his scars. And—just. He had this habit of going into his own space at times. If he looks vacant, let him be, it just means he’s tired of interactions. But if he looks afraid, go to him immediately. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” Toast saluted him, though he took everything wholeheartedly. Sykkuno's well-being was one of his priorities at this moment, after all.

“He’s really cute when he just wakes up!” Ray said, waving and running away to the medical building.

Toast frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he muttered to himself, walking back to his tent when Sykkuno poked his head out of the flap. “You got everything settled?”

“Yeah,” Sykkuno nodded. He had his supply bag with him hefted on his shoulders. They had been focusing on training him in scavenging. He was good at it. He put in the supplies efficiently, and he was agile on his feet. The only problem was he couldn’t take as much as Toast could. They should really work on his strength. Endurance of pain really shouldn’t be the only thing Sykkuno was good at.

“Let’s go further today,” Toast said, opening his map and pointing to a location. “We’ll be going here. Go pray to a God you believe in that someone else hasn’t gotten to it yet.”

Sykkuno promptly clasped his fingers together, and Toast put the map back into his backpack. Sykkuno was religious, surprisingly. He wasn’t prejudiced about it, but after the Third Impact, everyone had questioned their faith. Hard not to when literal monsters called Angels, and the fucking Adam and Lilith was involved in the whole shenanigans. The truth had been revealed by Misato Katsuragi after she pulled herself off of the LCL.

It was horrifying, to know what the government was doing; to know that an organization like SEELE existed, playing with God as humanity suffered the consequences. It was a grotesque truth to discover about the chosen children of NERV. They had put the essence of their mothers into a giant humanoid, braced with armors to fight literal monsters.

Toast thought of Sykkuno, then. Thinking about his mother, too. If Sykkuno had been chosen based on his aptitude, what would he feel to get into a robot made from the essence of his mother? Would it prevent the abuse, or had it started long before then? He didn’t know. He didn’t want to imagine a world where Sykkuno would be in constant danger and stress, a world where he was always on the verge of death. The tragedy of Shinji Ikari should have been a clear warning for parents everywhere about how neglect, loneliness, and lack of affection could morph a child’s psychics into that of a fighter who wasn’t ready for a war, about how the drive to be close with someone could literally change the world.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Toast said, reaching to touch Sykkuno's jaw with a finger. He did that a lot these days. It comforted both of them.

“Uh, thank you?” Sykkuno said, confused at the sudden admission.

Toast didn’t divulge further, and Sykkuno let him. Sometimes they both let out thoughts that they didn’t explain. They just accepted it. He liked that he could be understood and accepted like that.

They trekked through the streets. Sometimes they brought a bike to the places specifically marked by the scouts. Those places were possible to reach with a bike or motorcycle because they didn’t have too many obstacles along the way. Today, however, they had to reach it by foot for the rest of the way. They had been brought by the other team to a certain point with a car, and then got off and started walking. They would be picked up at the designated time.

“Let’s start sparring when we get back,” Toast said, traces of laughter in his voice when Sykkuno struggled to lift a fallen rack. “You’re terrible at strength stat.”

“I’ll have you know that these noodle arms pack a punch,” Sykkuno replied, heaving his breath after he was done.

Not only was he more open, Toast had discovered that Sykkuno had a peculiar sense of humor, and witty to a fault too. It was refreshing to see him no longer as guarded, no longer trembling so much in the face of other people’s presence and conversation. It was a slow journey, but they were getting there.

“What will you teach me?” Sykkuno asked.

Toast, feeling mischievous, surged up to get close to Sykkuno's face. “This,” he whispered, breath stuttering in his throat when Sykkuno's eyes widened and vermillion spread wildly on his face. He swallowed, and flicked Sykkuno's forehead instead. “You gotta be ready for any surprise attack,” Toast said when the boy whined.

“O-okay,” Sykkuno whispered, rubbing over his forehead. His face was still red.

Toast looked away, face suddenly heating up too. He chose to busy himself by gathering resources and packed them carefully into his bag. He didn’t even know what he was so flustered about. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been that close to Sykkuno before. The boy sometimes lay his head on Toast’s shoulder, and their jaw-touch was something normal to do, not to mention the hand-holding. But there was just—Sykkuno's eyes were pretty from that distance. He was far too pretty from up-close.

Jesus fuck, Toast berated himself, get a grip. You’re thirty, not a bumbling teenager.

“Toast?” Sykkuno called out, startling Toast from his thoughts. “I’m done.”

“Okay,” he said, regulating his heartbeat. “Let’s get back. Also, here, catch.”

Sykkuno caught the box of biscuits with nimble fingers and fast hands. “You don’t have any more space in your bag?”

He laughed. “No, moron. That’s for you to eat along the way. I told you before: you need to eat more.”

“But this can be our supplies,” the boy protested, though he was holding the box protectively on his chest.

Toast snorted at the sight; Sykkuno was far too easy to read sometimes. “Yeah, and you’ll eat the supplies anyway. So, why not eat it early?”

“I can share with others if we eat it at the compound,” he reasoned.

“You’re sharing with me,” Toast told him as he led Sykkuno out with their hands clasped together.

“Okay,” Sykkuno said, pulling his hand away to open the box happily. He gave Toast one biscuit, and took one for himself. They munched away while they started their trek back. It was companionable, with chatters from them both about the compound, the people, their mentoring sessions, and themselves, sometimes.

“Can I ask something?” Toast said, slowing down his steps. Sykkuno followed suit. “About your past?”

“Oh,” Sykkuno said, and bit his lower lip. He did that a lot. Sometimes, Toast had the urge to push his thumb there so he wouldn’t bite his lip until it bled. He was silent for a long time as they stood in the middle of the street. “What… what do you want to ask?”

Toast heaved a deep breath. He had been given the chance, he should use it wisely. “When did it start?”

Neither of them needed to address the elephant in the room as to what ‘it’ really meant. Sykkuno looked down at his half-eaten biscuit, and walked over to the sidewalk to sit under a patio of an abandoned shop. Toast followed after him at a more sedate pace.

“When I was four,” Sykkuno answered, voice small like it used to be when he first arrived at the compound. He put the box down and fiddled with the biscuit, crushing the edges until they crumbled. “My mom pushed me, and I hit the edge of the table. I had to go to the hospital, and she was crying because she was sorry, she said. She lost control, she wouldn’t do it again. I believed her.”

I shouldn’t have hung in the air, unsaid yet heard so clearly.

“It… didn’t stop there. It was small things at first. She would pinch or slap my hands if I did something she was displeased about. But the pinches turned vicious and the slaps were harder.”

Toast started to feel the regret settle in. Not because Sykkuno was willing to open up to him, but because he could feel the acidic tang of anger across his tongue. He knew where this was heading even before Sykkuno said: “She always said sorry, said that she wouldn’t do it again. She was always nice after she hit me. And I believed her. I loved her so much; she was the only one I had in this world. But it got worse, so much worse.”

The biscuit was gone, crumbles gathering at the top of Sykkuno's shoes. Toast grabbed his hands and clenched them tight in his. Sykkuno answered with a squeeze of his own, as if he was gathering strength. “The older I got, the more often she did it. Everything I did is always wrong in her eyes, nothing could be right anymore by the time I was twelve. That’s… that’s when I tried to run away, and she hit me with a car. I needed to be hospitalized for a long time, and the hospital crews were suspicious. But I was afraid, too. I was afraid that they’d take her away from me. I didn’t have anyone, Toast. I only had her. I honestly didn’t know where I’d go, if I were to get away that day.”

Toast’s heart clenched. He closed his eyes for a moment, before wrapping an arm around Sykkuno to pull him close. The boy laid his head on his shoulder, playing with his fingers in a detached manner, as if he wasn’t relieving his worst nightmare.

“I still believed her, even when the hits turned that much harder, that much painful. I believed her when she said she loved me, that she did this because she loved me so much. I guess I was too blind to see, too afraid to admit that it was wrong for a mother to do that. She never insulted me, you know? She would look disappointed and angry and she would hit me without saying anything. In a way, it was so much worse. I was- I was incredibly sad when she said that I was the biggest mistake in her life, that she should have just killed me before I was born.”

“Fucking hell,” Toast hissed, then pulled away to look at Sykkuno properly. He cupped his hands around the boy’s face firmly, leaning in close enough so they could share a breath. “You’re not a mistake, no—listen to me. You were a child, and you didn’t know any better, you weren’t a mistake then, and you’re not a mistake now. She made mistakes, she was the mistake here, Sykkuno.”

Sykkuno's eyes glistened, but the smile on his lips was bitter. “Thank you,” he said, “but… it’s- it’s really hard to believe it after so long believing otherwise, Toast.”

“I understand,” he said, then, softer, “I’ll say it to you every day until you believe me, then. I’ll show you that your existence has never been a mistake.”

Sykkuno didn’t say anything, but the look on his face was enough to convey his gratitude and struggle in trying to believe Toast. He heaved a deep breath, another one, before he continued. “I found out that she was depressed when she was pregnant with me. She tried to kill herself, but she was always saved before she could go. I was an unplanned pregnancy, and she hated me so much.”

That explained a lot, Toast thought. Still, what she did was unforgivable. He nodded nonetheless, not wanting to interrupt.

“She loved me, though,” Sykkuno said with a faraway smile, looking up at the sky as if remembering a mother that loved him before everything went to hell. “Up until I was four, she had always been so kind and loving. I remembered only bits and pieces here and there, but I held on to it my whole life. They’re the reason why I still believed in her, I wanted to believe that she would be back to those moments.”

But she didn’t, and Sykkuno suffered his misjudgment.

“But then the cutting started, and I started to lose hope, too,” he said, voice merely above a whisper. “There were times, when she would come into my room, and I’d pretend to sleep. She cried, on those nights, apologizing to me. She was trying to undo her mistakes, but it got worse instead. I couldn’t help it, Toast. I didn’t know what to do but stay. I wanted to believe in her so badly that I was blind with it.”

Toast reached out to caress the side of his face, slipping into Sykkuno's hair to run his fingers through it. Sykkuno closed his eyes at the soothing touch, leaning into him to rest his forehead on Toast’s shoulder. “These scars,” Toast said, reaching with his other hand to grasp Sykkuno's forearm gently, where he knew the scars lay beneath the fabric, like a brand from his nightmares. “She did it?”

Sykkuno was silent for some time, before he said in a broken whisper, “No. I did it.”

Toast closed his eyes and leaned his head on Sykkuno's, gathering him close. He didn’t need to say anything anymore, he had heard enough. It was hard to get out of the cycle of abuse, especially in the cases where the abused still clung onto the good memories of their abuser. Especially in this case, where Toast knew that Sykkuno's mother was unstable and she lashed out at the very thing she loved: her child. It was a complicated case, but his stance remained. He would kill her if she tried to touch Sykkuno again.

“You don’t have to anymore,” Toast said softly. “This world is ruined, but I won’t let it ruin you even more. I’ll protect you, I’ll stay by your side.”

The tears escaped his eyes, in tandem with Sykkuno's own tears that seeped into his clothes to wet his skin. It felt like a confession from a sinner, this urge and desire to hold Sykkuno close so nothing could hurt him anymore. Toast kept it in the chambers of his heart as it ached deeply with Sykkuno's pain. He pressed closer, bringing this fragile, broken boy into a tight embrace. He didn’t want to let go, ever.

Sykkuno clung to him, as hard as he clung onto the memories of a loving mother. Toast clung onto him even harder, unwilling to loosen the embrace even for a second. He wanted to swallow his pain, settle Sykkuno inside the gentle cradle of his lungs where he would be safe there. He wanted this boy to be happy and no longer suffering, but Toast was helpless in figuring out how. He could protect Sykkuno, but he didn’t know how to make him happy, how to ease the coil of venom around his broken heart.

“I’m scared,” Sykkuno said, his cries getting louder and harder to control. “I’m so scared, Toast. I’m scared, I’m scared.”

He kept repeating that, breaking Toast’s heart even more with each syllable. He couldn’t do anything but to hold him tight and kiss his temple firmly, telling him without words that he could let it out, that Toast would still be here by the end of it to gather the dust of his scattered pieces and keep it safe inside the maze of his soul.

Sykkuno wailed in his arms, and Toast let his own tears fall without stopping them. Let them fall, he was mourning; Sykkuno's pain, his past, his distorted love, his fear, his loneliness and fragility. He was mourning them all. He was mourning for a boy who lost his innocence and hope at the age of four. He was mourning for a man who had been through so much he lost himself by the end of it.

“I’m here,” Toast said after they both had calmed down. He cupped Sykkuno's face, thumbing the tears that had just fallen from his eyes. “I’ll never hurt you the way she did. I’m here, and I need you to believe that. Can you try?”

Sykkuno nodded, desperate for any hope to grasp within his scarred fingers. He surged forward to hug Toast again, and Toast held him just as tight as before. As if Sykkuno would crumble to nothingness if he let up, as if the world would come to an end if he let this boy go.

I’ll hold you close, he thought with determination and ache inside his chest, I’ll protect you. I’ll always protect you. I can love you, I will.

Ray was right. Sykkuno was endearing in the early mornings when he didn’t have any nightmares. He snuffled and whined before he was properly conscious, loathing to leave the bed. Toast would sit by the edge of the bed and hold his hand until he blinked awake, sleepy and petulant. He wanted to stay in bed, not go out and exercise.

They started the drills to prepare for the sparring some time after their last talk about it. Sykkuno was so horrible at fighting that it was almost laughable, if it wasn’t so sad that he was incredibly good at dodging. Toast didn’t attack, he only had Sykkuno moving as he described where the attack was coming from. He figured that it wasn’t ready yet as of now. He was agile at his feet, and he knew how to avoid being hit. Toast sometimes had to gather himself, when he was lost in thought as to why Sykkuno was good at dodging. It wouldn’t end well with either of them if they were to talk about it out in the open space.

The bad thing was that Sykkuno kept getting on defense without ever attacking. He was afraid, and Toast understood that. But it was really difficult to get Sykkuno to learn how to throw punches properly if he was too afraid of stepping forward.

“This is pointless,” Toast said, and Sykkuno's face fell. “No, I don’t mean you. I mean this way of teaching, let me figure it out.”

He relaxed his stance, and thought, then stepped closer to Sykkuno. The boy no longer shied away when Toast was close, but the blush persisted. Toast couldn’t exactly think straight with Sykkuno looking like that, but he tried his hardest to focus. Perhaps, he should choose a different way, but he was already touching Sykkuno's arms to position him.

“Your posture is bad,” Toast explained as he fixed Sykkuno's stance. “You’ll hurt yourself when you throw a punch that way, never mind with a weapon. Try punching the air.”

Sykkuno did, and Toast stood behind him to correct his stance again. “Like this,” he said, “there are multiple ways you can punch someone. But the rest of your body should be steady, otherwise you’ll topple over. Your agility is good, because you’ll have to be able to pull your punches and throw it again in a fight. Get used to the motion.”

He watched as Sykkuno went through the drill over and over again, blush dissipating from focus. He corrected him sometimes, but the boy was a fast learner. His body got used to the motions quickly as Toast ran him through different drills. When he deemed the boy had learned enough, he gestured for him to follow Toast to the food station.

“Let’s rest, and then we’ll practice again,” he said. “You’re getting better at this. You just need to get used to it.”

“I don’t like the thought of hitting someone,” Sykkuno said.

“No,” Toast replied, giving him his bowl and pouring a quarter from his own for Sykkuno. He had always done that since the beginning. The boy was filling out, face no longer as gaunt. He looked healthier, flush apparent on his cheeks instead of pale skin. His so-called noodle arms were lightly muscled from carrying the backpacks around in their supply runs. “You’re not hitting someone on purpose to hurt them unnecessarily or to lash out mindlessly. You’re protecting yourself, and you need to understand that self-defense isn’t always about defending. It’s about striking to prevent your assailant from hurting you even further.”

He smiled bitterly to himself. If only he could teach Sykkuno this years ago. There was no use in dwelling on the impossible, however. So he ate his porridge in silence. When he was done, he waited for Sykkuno to finish.

“Drink a lot, and then we’ll rest for ten minutes before we continue. We’ll practice with a proper target this time.”

Sykkuno came back to his fear of hitting when Toast stood in front of him again instead of behind him. Things took a turn for the worse when Toast stepped forward to hit. He forgot, in his focus on sparring, on teaching Sykkuno. He let himself forget, and that was a fatal mistake. Sykkuno immediately dropped down to dodge the hit that was halted halfway; he was breathing hard all of the sudden, and he struggled to get up, to run.

Toast’s eyes widened when he realized his mistake. Sykkuno wasn’t ready yet for this. The onlookers parted their ways when Sykkuno ran through them, followed by Toast on his heels. He found the boy shivering and curling on the corner, behind the small table near their bed.

“No, no, no,” Sykkuno whispered to himself, rocking himself back and forth as he clenched his eyes tight. “No, please, please, no more, no, no—“

“Sykkuno?” Toast called out, and Sykkuno screamed. He could feel his heartbeat accelerating; he didn’t know what to do in situation like this. Should he call Ray? Corpse? But he didn’t want to leave Sykkuno alone like this. “Sykkuno,” he called again, scooting closer to the boy who was struggling with all his might to get away from Toast, eyes clouded.

The table was pushed out, falling away along with the lamp and the books there. Sykkuno was screaming as Toast stepped close, begging him to stop, screaming that he was sorry, so sorry, he wouldn’t do it again, so please, please, please stop, please stop. Toast stared at him, helpless, as Sykkuno cried and cried.

“Please, Mom, please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Sykkuno cried out, as if he was in pain even when he curled up into himself. “I won’t run away, please, you can hit me, please, please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—“

“Please,” Toast whispered, close to tears himself. “Please, Sykkuno, it’s me. It’s Toast, she’s not here, please.”

But Sykkuno was blind, deaf to the world in his waking nightmare. Toast’s heart ached when the boy went limp and begging for his nightmare to stop tormenting him.

“I’ll die,” Sykkuno whispered, pain apparent in his hoarse voice. “I’ll die, I promise, I promise Mom, so please, please…”

He wailed harder when Toast gave in and held his hands tight, eyes unseeing and filled with tears that couldn’t stop falling. There was no word to describe the acute pain in Toast’s chest upon hearing him. How imaginable was his pain, that he would promise death to his mother? Just how deep his scar ran inside his heart for him to be like this?

Sykkuno cried until he was too tired to cry anymore, muttering and begging until his voice was nearly gone. Toast held his hands through it; he didn’t know whether it was the right thing to do or not, but he felt fragile, too. He felt broken, and he ached so much that he needed to hold Sykkuno lest he disappeared. When Sykkuno was limp, no longer able to put up a fight, he whispered, “I’ll die, Mom… I’ll die. Please… stop, please… stop, please.”

Toast swallowed around the mouthful of anger and expletives in his throat; around the sadness and hurt. His mouth tasted like cotton and acid, nothing felt right. He couldn’t imagine how Sykkuno was feeling right now. He had failed him, he had hurt him.

He carried the boy to his bed. He had already fallen asleep from exhaustion, the lines of his face full of worry and fear even in sleep. Toast sighed, wiped his tears from his face and pulled the blanket around him. He sat on the floor on the side of the bed, arms at his knees as his head hung low. He looked at the fallen table from the corner of his eyes and closed them instead. He felt so tired, as if he had sparred for hours without stopping. He supposed he was fighting, too; he was fighting Sykkuno's monster without a weapon and no indication of winning the fight. How was he supposed to protect Sykkuno from himself?

He needed to take a step back and reassess his thoughts. He didn’t know how to handle Sykkuno, and he couldn’t do it alone. He needed to talk to Ray, and he needed Ray to know about this situation soon. Toast wasn’t the right person to help Sykkuno in protecting himself from his nightmares. He could, but he didn’t know how to. He had to prioritize Sykkuno's well-being rather than his own ego of monopolizing his time. He needed someone else he could trust, too.

No sparring until Sykkuno was okay with it, only drills and practices. No coming to him so suddenly for the time being. Gave him some space and offered him comfort. Yeah, Toast could do that, he thought. With plans settled in his mind, he gave in to fatigue and exhaustion and fell asleep there; head near Sykkuno's thigh, holding his hand as if he could save Sykkuno from his never-ending nightmares.

“It’s good that you held his hands only,” Ray said. They were in his tent; Sykkuno was left to learn how to sew with Tina, Karl, and Corpse. It had been a few days since his episode. “It’s generally acceptable by people in that position. Anything on their lower arm is okay; touching them when they’re in a bad episode is a way to make them sense something. Don’t hug him, it’ll just make it worse. Talk to him throughout it, keep calling for him.”

“I almost did,” Toast sighed. “Make it worse.”

“You were shocked,” Ray said gently. “It’s understandable. You know better now. I should talk to Sykkuno about this. You don’t need to protect him alone, Toast. You have us, too.”

“Yeah,” he smiled a little. “I forgot about that. Sorry.” In his determination, he sometimes forgot that he wasn’t alone. That other people could help him, and that it was okay to ask for help, too.

“I’ll take care of Sykkuno's mental health, and you make sure he’s healthy for the rest, alright?”

“Alright,” he nodded. “Thanks.”

“No need to thank me,” Ray said. “I care about Sykkuno, too. It’s only right that we all work together to help him.”

He walked out of the tent with a clearer head than before. They had arranged schedules for Sykkuno to talk to Ray about his feelings and what was troubling him deeply, Toast could be there too if Sykkuno allowed it. He wasn’t a practitioner, but he was adept enough in handling Sykkuno and that was the best they could get. They couldn’t get help from other communities, because it would be seen as too much favoritism from Toast and Ray, two people who were seen as people who held important positions in this community. This was the best they could do.

When Sykkuno woke up that day, Toast held him for hours because he couldn’t stop crying and apologizing. Toast tried to console him the best he could, but all it did was make Sykkuno cry even more from guilt. In the end, he just held him and let him ride through the worst of it.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Toast said after he had calmed down enough. “It was my fault. I didn’t ask whether you were ready or not, and I didn’t know how to handle you afterward. I’m sorry. It’s my fault, too. I’ll talk to Ray about this, if it’s okay with you? He can help you, more than I could. I just want you to be okay.”

Sykkuno had given his assent on that matter, and clung onto Toast. They slept on the same bed that day, and Toast had to shake Sykkuno awake from nightmare three times before he succumbed to a deep slumber from exhaustion of the day. Toast had asked him if they wanted to share a bed instead, because Sykkuno seemed to be even more in need of physical closeness than before, and the boy had shyly nodded. So, now the two beds were joined in the middle. Toast felt like it was a favor for himself, too. He just felt relief when he could hold Sykkuno close.

They didn’t do anything but walk around the compound and try their hands on crafts for several days, until Sykkuno was steady at his feet again. Even then, Toast tried to ease him into it. Since there were no working pharmacies anymore, Ray couldn’t exactly suggest medications for him, not to mention he wasn’t licensed to do so. They were running on limited options, after all.

But the talk helped, to some extent. Sykkuno spoke more and more with each session, and Toast was always there for him to hold onto when things got overwhelming for him. Toast found out the extent of Theresa’s abuse, and her own difficulties through her life that Sykkuno had unearthed from when his mother was of sound mind enough to be nice. The abuse didn’t come out of nowhere, and though Theresa was at fault, there were several situations to be considered. Toast despaired more on the fact that none of their closed ones help these two people at all.

They weren’t here to change the past however; they were here to deal with the aftermath of said past. Ray’s tent was exchanged for the one nearby with Toast’s, in case that Sykkuno got into another episode. Corpse went with them on scavenging supplies sometimes. Toast learned from them how to calm Sykkuno down, and how to calm himself down enough to help. It was harder than he thought; any moment Sykkuno was hurt, Toast felt the stab of a thousand ice shards inside his lungs. It was hard to focus on anything then.

“You’re so nice to me,” Sykkuno said, soft and shy, legs dangling from the tree they had climbed onto. It was the tree in the same building with the piano in it. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Toast answered truthfully.

“Do you pity me?”

“No,” Toast said. “I sympathize, and I’m trying everything I can to help. There’s a difference. I don’t want to insult you with pity.”

“Oh,” Sykkuno said softly, then, “can we come down?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, and hopped off of the branch, helping Sykkuno come down at a slower pace. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Sykkuno said, and stepped forward in Toast’s hold to hug him. “I just wanted to be close to you.”

There were times like this, when they were alone together. Sykkuno would have bursts of bravery and sidled close to Toast in his own accord; a hug, a slung of arm around his neck, entwining their fingers together, laying his head on Toast’s lap. All in the effort to be close, in the effort of believing in Toast.

“I’m here,” Toast would say every single morning, when the compound wasn’t awake yet, when the first light of dawn hadn’t touched them yet. “I’m here for you. You’re not a mistake, you’ve never been one. I’ll protect you as best as I can. I’m going to be here for you.”

Right now, with Sykkuno in his arms, he said it, too.

“I’m here.”

“I’m glad that you’re here,” Sykkuno said, and it felt like the broken piano had just sung a beautiful melody for their hearts.

Life was… difficult sometimes; a storm brushing deceptively gentle, lulling them into a false sense of security before it carried them away in a maze of chaos.

When Sykkuno's nightmares were too much to handle, when Toast was too tired to cater to him; when Sykkuno was too afraid, too used to keeping everything inside to admit something, when Toast was too harsh to the touch; when the both of them were too stubborn to walk away from an argument, when they were too fragile to walk away from each other.

Sykkuno cried less, but he was silent more. Toast was gentler, but he overthought more. Sometimes, they were too lost in the maze to be connected. Sometimes, they clung onto each other for dear life, so afraid of letting each other go.

Flower crowns, houses and tents, supply runs with Corpse, hours of drills and sparring, late night conversations with Ray, a round of playing around with Karl and Tina—they were all the memories Sykkuno made within the compound, the memories where Toast was always present in everything that he crafted with his scarred fingers. Sometimes, Toast didn’t know where he stood, why he did this at all. But then he cupped Sykkuno's face, and got close enough to see the vermillion scattered on his face, to see his smile, and he understood.

Sykkuno was the person that Toast had taken to since the first time he emerged from the clutch of Instrumentality. He was drawn to his fragility, and later on his strength of heart and tenacity. He liked the way he could protect Sykkuno, and be adored in return. He liked the way he could love Sykkuno so gently, so different from his personality. He adored the way Sykkuno smiled at him—small, delicate, and private, like Toast was the only sun in his cloudy summer.

For life was difficult, it sometimes gave them reprieve, too. In the way Toast and Sykkuno sat in an empty music store, learning nursery songs together; in the way they sat on the branches of a tree in a roofless building, with a broken piano keeping them company; in the way they gravitated towards each other in the bed they shared together, as if seeking even in their sleep; in the way Toast was kinder, Sykkuno was stronger, whenever they were around each other.

Ray was right. It was good, for both of them. They were more open, more real, touchable by other people while still keeping the private bubble around themselves.

Sykkuno was a miracle from the sea for Toast, and Toast was the calmness in Sykkuno's stormy mind. They were a sudden union that no one could expect, not even themselves. But it worked, and it was good, and Toast thought, I could love you a little harder, falling a little deeper. I will.

“What did you feel in the LCL?” Toast asked one day, looking through the blueprints of the small school they were planning to build. All this time the children either learned in a house, or out in the field. They didn’t have many children with them, but they were enough to form two full classes. They thought that a place that they could associate with proper education might do them good. Lily would love decorating it.

“The sea?” Sykkuno asked, then pointed out a wonky structure in the blueprints. “Fear. Everyone was there, and I could hear my mom, too. I just wanted to get away from there, but the pull was strong. It was hard for me to pull myself out of the sea.”

Toast nodded, patting Sykkuno's head as a reward for expressing his feelings. Positive encouragement was always welcomed in Sykkuno's progress. “I was alone for most of my life. Ray had told me that it feels like I’m here, but also detached at the same time. I guess that’s what I’m doing for the most of my life, until you.”

“Oh,” the boy blinked, and looked away to hide his smile. “I’m glad, then.”

Toast smiled too, feeling the warmth enveloping his heart. “It was pretty easy to get out, though it took me the better part of two years before I emerged from the sea. I lived alone for a year before I joined this community. It’s nice here, I guess.”

“Even nicer with me around right?” Sykkuno teased.

“You’re a menace,” Toast quipped back, jostling their shoulders together. “But yeah, I suppose.”

“You’re so difficult when it comes to expressing your own feelings,” Sykkuno said, though it was earnest and fond. “You’re like, uh, te-sun-dere, or something.”

Toast barked out a laugh. Sykkuno had this habit of mangling a pronunciation, and didn’t bother correcting himself even when other people had shown him how. Co-log-nay, dai-ting, he butchered them all and still sounded endearing while he did so. Toast didn’t quite understand how he managed to do it. With the magic of his unstoppable charm, probably.

Everyone was enamored with Sykkuno when he finally got enough courage to mingle with them. He was afraid of children because he saw himself in them, but he greeted them sometimes and made flower crowns or small toys for them. The women who looked like Theresa scared him shitless, but Toast was always there to hold his hand when he gave them stiff smiles and shy, little waves. Toast had asked Sykkuno's permission to tell those women what had happened, and explained to them once he got the green light. Some of them didn’t care, as they weren’t close to Sykkuno, but those who felt a paternal instinct for him and those who had had children before greatly sympathized and understood where he came from.

It was hard, balancing Sykkuno's condition and the confusion of the community. There were calloused, straightforward people who didn’t know any better, who had asked Sykkuno what had happened to him, where those scars came from. The boy had clammed up immediately and refused to talk for a long time, until Toast managed to coax him out of his shell. It was a public secret to never ask Sykkuno that again. Children were curious, and less mindful, and Toast supposed he understood why Sykkuno stayed away from them.

“What did you think about when you- when you first saw me?” Sykkuno asked, careful, afraid of an answer but curious nonetheless. A better version of a child’s inquiries about the world.

“I wanted to protect you,” Toast said. You made me ache so deeply and I didn’t understand why.

“And now?”

“I want you to be happy.” I want to love you and I think I understand why.

There was a small smile on Sykkuno's face when Toast stepped close enough to rest their foreheads together. The flush on his cheeks deepened into a blush, and Toast cherished it, too.

“I’m happy, when I’m with you,” Sykkuno said.

Toast’s smile turned into something more sincere, something a little heartbroken. What was he going to do with this boy? He was helpless, in the face of these inevitable feelings, of this certain fall that he was willingly going down to. A boy who came out of the sea of despair and unity, emerging to find a freedom he longed for, to be embraced by arms that wouldn’t hurt him.

“What am I going to do with you, huh? You’re impossible,” he whispered, closing his eyes.

“Stay with me,” Sykkuno said softly. “That’s enough for me.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “I’ll stay with you, always.”

“Don’t promise me something you’re not intending to keep, Toast,” the boy said, cupping Toast’s face gently.

“I will,” he said. “As long as you want me to, I’ll stay.”

There was a beat when Sykkuno sighed softly, the breath mingling with Toast’s to be inhaled deep into his lungs. He opened his eyes and saw adoration in those brown, soft-slanted eyes on Sykkuno's pretty, pretty face.

“Okay,” Sykkuno said. “I’ll believe you, Toast.”

And that was enough, for him, for them.

“Just kiss already, Jesus Christ,” Karl complained one day.

Toast startled. He was watching Sykkuno teaching Corpse how to play a guitar that they got from the music store. The piano was too heavy to take, and Toast was slowly approaching the subject of bringing it for the children. Sykkuno would have to compromise, but at least the piano would be here. He looked at Karl, eyes widening a little.

“What?”

“Sykkuno,” Karl said, voice hushed now. “We all see the way you’re looking at him. It’s disgusting and lovely, just kiss him already. Hey! It rhymes!”

Toast sighed; Karl and his distraction were infamous in their compound, it made conversations with him difficult sometimes. He shook his head. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“But don’t you want to?”

Do I want to? He thought, looking at Sykkuno. How would those lips feel like against his own? In a soft, gentle kiss; in a passionate, searing one. He gulped and punched Karl’s arm lightly. “Stop talking nonsense.”

“You’re in de-niaaal,” Karl sing-sung mischievously, laughing and running away to whine at Sykkuno when Toast moved to punch him again, probably with intent this time around.

Toast thought about it, and closed his eyes. Sykkuno was breaking his heart with each passing second, making him lose his mind with each smile, and now he was consuming Toast whole with the thought of him. That boy really was going to be the death of him.

In all the best ways, Toast thought.

“What do you do when you want to kiss someone?” Toast asked Ray one day. It had been a few weeks since Karl threw that particular statement at him.

Ray looked at him for a moment, then grinned momentarily. “Well, you have to get their consent first, and then kiss them, given that you know how to. It’s okay if you don’t, Sykkuno and you can learn together.”

“Jerk,” he said, glaring without heat. “No, I mean, what do you do when you want to kiss someone and you don’t know how to cope with it.”

“Then you ask yourself whether you truly want to, and why,” Ray said, finally stopping teasing Toast for a second. “And then you think to yourself what it means for you, and the both of you. Only then, you can make a decision for it.”

“I want to,” Toast said, didn’t say why. “I just don’t know whether it’s a wise decision to take.”

“Are you worried about Sykkuno?”

“Worried about what it might do to our current relationship,” he admitted. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“He’s too fond of you for you to lose him that way,” the doctor replied. “But that’s also why you need to ask him, and talk about this properly. Sure, sometimes there are moments where you get carried away. But with Sykkuno, it’s better to approach everything with a sound mind.”

He poked his tongue on the inside of his cheek, and nodded. He didn’t say anything, and Ray was content to let him think. Maybe he could approach it later, when everything had settled down a little. When Sykkuno wasn’t so afraid, when Toast could calm down his incessant worrying. When they both had time to sit on the bench of a broken piano, and talked about faraday future, with each other in it.

Someday, when the sun warmed them both to their souls, and Toast could understand properly about his love. Someday, when Sykkuno would allow Toast to love him. That someday was something nice to look forward to, he thought with a smile.

Sometimes, there were no words to be uttered. Sometimes, there were just soft breaths as they stared at the broken piano, leaning against each other. In Sykkuno's tragedy, in Toast’s surprising loneliness and love, they held each other in silence.

The days were rough but they could be wonderful. The sky was bright in the summer, but fall was just around the corner. It would bring a change, and they must be carried by the wind to greet winter, to wait for spring, and another summer where they could remember what they had gone through. With a wistful smile, with tears, with relief, with belief that they could do it again, go through it all again and make it better this time around.

“We can be okay,” Toast said.

Sykkuno nodded, closing his eyes as he trusted Toast with his delicate, scarred fingers to hold. “We’ll be okay. We can be.”

Hell came at the end of summer just one and a half years after Sykkuno's arrival.

The nightmares continued, the episodes occurred, but he was getting better. Today, however, someone else emerged and Sykkuno stepped back from the crowd and retched so hard that Toast feared he threw up his heart, too. When he saw a woman, swaddled in the same blanket as Sykkuno from a memory long ago, Toast understood.

Anger and pity emerged in him in equal measure when he saw Theresa looking at Sykkuno with eyes so downtrodden. He didn’t want to believe it, and he didn’t. Toast knew what happened to her, but he could never forgive nor could he forget what had resulted in her storm. Sykkuno was thrown into it, hitting all the debris and torn apart at the seams from the constant stream of pain. Toast could never sympathize with someone who had marked so many scars on Sykkuno's body, in his heart

“Get away from him,” he said, low and venomous.

“You don’t understand,” Theresa said, firm, immovable. That was fine; Toast could cut her right there where she stood. “You don’t understand anything at all. My boy needs me, he needs me.”

“He doesn’t,” Toast said, harsh and full of wrath. “Stay if you want, but I’ll make your life a living hell if you ever approach Sykkuno. If you touch even a strand of his hair, I’ll kill you.”

Theresa was stunned by the threat that was so real they all could taste it in the air. Toast thought viciously, good, and turned away from the woman. Sykkuno was nearly lifeless, limp and vacant when Toast lifted his prone body and carried him to their tent.

“She’s here,” he said, trembling badly. “She’s here, Toast. She’s—she’s here. She found me.”

“And I’m here, too,” Toast said gently, holding this fragile, delicate, tenacious, strong boy close. “I’ll be here for you. I’ll never let her take you away.”

“But I need her,” Sykkuno whined, eyes clouding. “She’s- she’s right. I need her, she’s the only one I have, Toast. I need her.”

“You have me, too, though,” Toast reminded him, soft and understanding now when Sykkuno was like this. “You have Ray, have Corpse, and Karl, and Tina. Everybody else here adores you. You have us all, Sykkuno.”

“I- I do?” Sykkuno asked, afraid and small, so small when he curled up into a ball on Toast’s lap.

“You do,” Toast reaffirmed. “We all will protect you, we all want you here. You can stay if you’re happy with us, too. We’ll never let her get to you. We love you.”

“You do?” the boy asked again, hopeful, childish, innocent. He stared up at Toast with brown eyes that had seen how atrocious a human could be, and still chose to believe.

“I do,” Toast whispered his honesty, kissing the top of Sykkuno's head. “I love you.” So much, he wanted to say. In this moment, his heart felt like it had swelled in his ribcage, expanding the space to accommodate his affection for Sykkuno. I love you, he wanted to whisper again, you make me ache and leave me breathless from your smile, your pain. I love you. I want to make you happy, want to be your sun on cloudy days. I love you.

“You love me,” Sykkuno whispered, a wonder in his voice.

“I do,” he answered. He’d say the same thing, over and over again, until Sykkuno believed him.

“I’m glad,” Sykkuno said, holding Toast close to him. “I’m so glad.”

He breathed in the scent of flowers and wood, of pain and tragedy, of fragility and hope, and closed his eyes. The world had ended, time and time again. But this world that they built together, it’d stay in his mind for eternity.

It felt like hours, just them holding each other until Sykkuno was no longer shaking, no longer afraid. Because he believed, and Toast couldn’t be more elated than to bask in his trust. He kissed the scar on Sykkuno's palm, and asked him if he wanted Theresa gone from here. Because even if she could request to stay, Toast didn’t think that anyone would like it, considering how scared Sykkuno had looked when he saw her, and everyone had seen that.

People liked Sykkuno. He was gentle, kind, the right amount of youth in him to awaken the protective instinct, the abundance of mischief and wit to be befriended by his peers. He steered away from children and women who looked like his mother still, but that was okay. They had time to ease Sykkuno into it.

“I do,” Sykkuno said, and then again because he looked like he couldn’t believe he just said that. “I do. I don’t think she- she’ll be good for me here, Toast.”

“Yeah,” Toast said. “I think so, too. Think about it, okay? You’re the one who knows about this the best, if you ask me I’ll probably just tell you to decapitate her.”

“You’re serious when you said that you'd kill her if she touched me,” Sykkuno said, blinking. He looked like he was in a trance. Toast figured that right now wasn’t the time to talk about anything practical with Sykkuno when he was like this.

“I am,” he said.

“You’ll do that for me?”

“I will. For you. ”

“Wow,” Sykkuno breathed out. “That’s really grotesque and flattering.”

Toast laughed, and patted Sykkuno's back gently. “It must have taken a lot from you, to see her. Sleep now, we’ll talk about it later.”

“Okay, Toast,” he nodded, and looked up at him. “Keep me safe?”

“Always,” Toast said, and kissed his temple.

Sykkuno slept fitfully at first, but he settled after that, though it took quite a while. Toast’s arm was almost dead from the constant weight put on it, but he was used to this. They slept like this every night, after all. He had to get up when Ray called him from outside the tent. So, he carefully laid Sykkuno's head on the pillow and went out to hear what the doctor had to say.

“We’re evicting her,” he said, voice hushed. “She made such a fuss about wanting to see ‘Thomas’ and won’t stop demanding for him.”

“Sykkuno wants her gone,” Toast said. “Let’s see the ruckus and kick her out as soon as possible.”

“Does Sykkuno want to say something to her?” Ray asked.

“I don’t know, but I can’t imagine why he would want to,” he said honestly.

“Toast,” Ray chided gently. “You still have to ask Sykkuno on this matter. It’s not because it’s his mother, but because this is closely tied to his own freedom in deciding what to do with one of the sources of his misery. You have to give him independence of action, though you can always help make the decision when he’s not thinking straight.”

He mulled it over, and sighed deeply. “You’re right. We’ll wait until Sykkuno is awake, then. He’s just fallen asleep.”

“Alright,” the doctor said. “I’ll keep an eye on her for the time being.”

So, Toast waited, until Sykkuno rose from his slumber, blinking tired eyes open. “Hey,” he said softly.

“Hey,” Sykkuno smiled. “What’s wrong?” he asked, reaching out his fingers to smoothen the frown on Toast’s face.

“They’re evicting Theresa, she made trouble. She… she wants to meet you. Do you- do you have something to say to her? Before we take her to somewhere else she can live in.”

Sykkuno bit his lip, and this time, Toast let his urges move his thumb to press it on the bitten lip. The boy released his hold, and bit Toast’s thumb once before he grasped it with his fingers. “I do,” he said finally, “There are a lot of things I want to say, to know, to ask. But I think we don’t have time for that, and I don’t think I can handle it either. But I can… I can handle a farewell.”

There was something like relief that made the chains around Toast’s heart loosen. He nodded. “I’ll be with you, if you want.”

“Yeah,” Sykkuno said. “I want you to be there, if it’s okay.”

“It’s okay,” Toast replied, “let’s go, then. She’s in the meeting room. Ray should be there, too.”

Theresa was sitting glumly at a chair when they got there. It was hard to imagine this woman, who possessed the same delicate face structure like Sykkuno, was capable of such destruction. But people weren’t always how they seemed to be, and Toast understood that the most, being himself. There were sides of him that he hid, that he wasn’t aware of. But Theresa was aware, had been for years, and still she continued. That was her mistake.

“Thomas!” Theresa shouted, rushing to Sykkuno, but was held back by Ray’s strong arms. “Let me go! I need to go see my boy!”

“Mom,” Sykkuno said, voice just barely above a whisper. “Let’s talk, okay? Let’s sit here and talk.”

“Tell them to get out, baby,” Theresa pleaded, eyeing Ray, Toast, and the leader of the community suspiciously. “We can talk, then.”

“They’re staying, Mom,” the boy said tiredly. “Either they stay, or we’re not talking at all.”

There was a twitch on Theresa’s fingers, and Toast hurried to be by Sykkuno's side. The sight of someone who had threatened her of murder made her purse her lips curtly as she nodded. They sat on the chairs, facing each other with several spaces in-between as a buffer. Toast stood next to Sykkuno's chair, and Ray stood next to Theresa’s. The leader watched them with careful eyes nearby.

“I want to say something to you,” Sykkuno said. He heaved a deep breath, fidgeting with his fingers but determined to look Theresa in the eyes. “You hurt me, Mom. You’ve hurt me for so long until I believed that there’s nothing but pain in this world. This place changed me, showed me that it’s not always like that, it’s not supposed to be that way.”

“Thomas,” Theresa’s voice was firm, cold. “I apologized to you, didn’t you hear me at all?”

“And you don’t mean it, do you?” Sykkuno said, despairing as he wilted a little from his mother’s tone. “You’re going to hurt me again.”

The woman’s face softened, a change that was so drastic from her hard face before. “Baby, I’m so sorry, okay? I promise, this time- this time I won’t hurt you. I was so stressed out, Thomas, you understand that don’t you? You’re the only one who can understand me. We can- we can live together, I’ll treat you well. I won’t hurt you. So, come with me, okay? You have to come with me, Thomas. We don’t have anyone but each other.”

Sykkuno trembled, nails pressing down into the long linear scar on his forearm that was exposed a little bit. Toast took his hand away, and held it instead. He saw Theresa’s eyes widening at the contact, and glared at her in challenge.

“Get away from that man, Thomas,” Theresa said. “He’s a bad person. “

“This man is the one who protects me from myself, from you,” Sykkuno said, refusal clear in his tone. There was deep sorrow on his face, but he trudged on. “I’m not coming with you, Mom. I’m staying here. This is a farewell.”

“Don’t say ridiculous things, okay?” Theresa said, deceptively gentle. Maybe she meant it, maybe she didn’t. But it didn’t matter when at the end of the tunnel, the only thing that existed would be Sykkuno's suffering. Toast wouldn’t let that happen.

“I want to stay here,” Sykkuno said, stronger this time as he squeezed Toast’s hand. “I love you. I love the side of you who loves me without pain, without hurting me. But I can’t stay with you anymore, I don’t want to go back to a place that my friends have helped me get away from. I’m staying here, with Toast and everyone. I wish you a good life.”

Theresa stood up then, faster than everyone could predict, faster than Ray could anticipate. Her hand swung down to strike, and Toast moved in reflex. But before he could push her away, Sykkuno let go of Toast’s hand to grasp her hand in his. His face crumpled, tears gathering in his eyes.

“No more…” he whispered, broken and dejected, disappointed and resigned. “No more of this, Mom. I don’t want to feel this pain anymore. You lied to me, you’re lying still. This isn’t how you can love me, Mom. Not with pain, not with scars, not with punches and slaps. I want to be loved gently, and you can’t do it. I’ve had enough, Mom. And if you can’t hear me begging for you to stop, I’ll stop it myself. I want to protect myself, from my nightmares, from you.”

“Thomas,” Theresa said, voice trembling with rage and sadness that was reflected in her eyes. “Come to me, now. I won’t ask twice.”

“And I won’t say this twice,” Sykkuno said, letting her hand go and went to Toast’s side, closing his eyes when he felt Toast wrapped an arm around him. When he opened them again, he said, “I’m staying.”

Ray had detained Theresa as she struggled. Sykkuno looked at her with sadness etched deep into his very being. The leader came closer to hold her together with the doctor, nodding at Sykkuno and Toast.

“I wish you well,” Sykkuno said. He took a deep breath, and stood up straighter. Determination and acceptance shone in his eyes. “Goodbye, Mom.”

Theresa screamed, wailed for him. But Sykkuno turned his back, and Toast followed along as they went out of the room, as Sykkuno stepped away from her, from a part of his past with finality. Ray was right, this might be something that Sykkuno needed—a proper closure. The scars still stayed on his skin, until the day he died. The nightmares would still haunt his night, his waking moments. But he had said farewell to the person who caused this all, whom he had cling onto with desperation in his belief that she could get better, could be back to a loving mother who wouldn’t hurt him.

“I’m here,” Toast said, cupping Sykkuno's face once they were back in the privacy and protection of their tent. “I’m here for you.”

Sykkuno's face crumpled, the tears finally fell. He had been so strong in holding them up until this moment. Toast let him cry, gathering him close in his arms, whispering gentle words to soothe his mending broken heart.

“We can be okay, Sykkuno,” he whispered. “I’ll be here, and you can stay wherever you want to be. I’ll be there, we can be okay.”

Sykkuno broke his heart, time and time again, and Toast despaired for this boy with his gentle voice and soft eyes, with tenacity and endurance so great against the hurdles in his life, with a soul so lonely and heart shattered beyond pieces. It was only dust in the wind, now. But Toast let the wind carry Sykkuno's heart to a better place, holding the pieces left with everything he had.

This wasn’t over, not even close. But they could take one step at a time; ease into the motion of mending one’s broken heart, of healing. This was the first step they took to reach a brighter light at the end of the tunnel.

“We’ll be okay,” Sykkuno whispered, tears clear in his voice even as Toast couldn’t see it. “We can be okay, right, Toast?”

“We will,” he answered sincerely. He would try his hardest, they would. “We can be. It’s okay, love. It’s okay.”

I’ll be here, and we can be okay. I’ll protect you, I’ll love you. I have, and it made me ache and made me feel like I can do anything to make you smile. I love you like the sun in a cloudy summer, and I’ll greet your love like the fall embracing the winter. I love you, I love you, I love you.

There was no end, they would never see it. What happened was a continuation. And with it, came change and hope for better days.

Theresa was gone, and they helped Sykkuno in making peace with her memories. They could never be erased, and erasing them would just result in deep denial. So, they walked through the long process of easing Sykkuno into acceptance, into vulnerability that they protected with their whole being.

Tina, Karl, and Corpse were the source of Sykkuno's smile, his youthful strength. Ray was the gentle waves that held him close when he was too tired to fight. And Toast—Toast was his immovable ground that would always be there wherever Sykkuno decided to go, to stand on.

Sykkuno was his summer, his fall on the corner. He was the fragile boy with scars all over his body, swaddled in a blanket and breaking Toast’s heart from the start. He was the endurance and strength wrapped in the delicate smile that only appeared when Toast got close enough to make him blush, to make him feel like he was safe. He was the person that Toast could, would, and did love.

Life didn’t end with Theresa, life didn’t end with Sykkuno's acceptance, and they accepted that continuation with souls bared and heart mended now.

The piano was no longer broken, no longer covered in grass. Toast had taken his time in replacing it, putting the old piano under a branch of the tree in the sunlit building. There was another piano in the school they built, where Sykkuno tried to get over his fear by teaching the children how to play the tune on the musical instrument. This piano, in the roofless building, with a tree growing from the cracks on the floor, with its walls covered in vines, was theirs and theirs only.

Sykkuno played for him, sometimes forgetting a note and laughing when he stopped and Toast would tease him. Toast learned more songs than nursery songs, and they would sing together in their out-of-tune voices, enjoying the serenity and each other’s presence nonetheless. They would sit on the bench, the branches of the tree, on the ground with the leaves shading the sun, and talk about life.

“I love you,” Toast said one afternoon, when the breeze swayed Sykkuno's hair, when the shadow cascaded from the tree framed his face so beautifully. “I’ve loved you for a long time, now.”

It was only a little after two years, but Toast felt like he had loved Sykkuno for a lifetime. And in that, he expressed his honesty.

Sykkuno smiled at him—that small, delicate, private smile that he gave only for Toast. “I know,” he said, “you showed me, and I believe in you.”

He gave a smile back, and leaned their foreheads together. “Thank you, for believing in me.”

“I can love you,” Sykkuno whispered, closing his eyes and enjoying the hum of the wind. His lashes fanned over his cheeks delicately, so prettily. “I want to love you. I can. I will.”

“Then, I’ll wait for you,” Toast said, smiling so hard his soul trembled with it, with happiness that warmed his whole body. “I’ll be here, love.”

“I’ll be here, too, for you,” Sykkuno said, opening his eyes and cupping the sides of Toast’s face in adoration. “I’ll be here to love you.”

The breeze carried away their smiles into the fall, where they would greet winter together. The world had ended, and maybe it would end again someday. But they were ready to accept it, to move along with the wind. With all their scars and all their love, with all their hope and all their memories, they would move forward.

They could be okay, and Toast believed in it the way Sykkuno believed in him.

“I love you,” Toast said. “Been saying it inside my head a thousand times. And I’ll say it again as long as you’re willing to listen.”

“I want to,” Sykkuno said. “I’m going there, wait for me, okay?”

“Okay,” Toast said, and believed it with the entirety of his heart, with hope, with love, for Sykkuno.

#video blogging rpf #shiki writes #from ao3 #toastkkuno #disguisedtoast #sykkuno #ray c #corpse husband #karl jacobs #tina kitten #evangelion au #post apocalypse

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