“What do you think happened?”

There was a simultaneous shrug at Nadia’s question. Nadia put her head in her hands as her shoulders shook with silent sobs. Kin, sitting next to her on the couch in his living room, wrapped a comforting arm around her narrow shoulders, hugging her close. A set of silver knives were thrown her way as Oran mutely glared at Nadia out of the corner of his eye. He was currently situated in the armchair perpendicular to the couch. Cadence was on the floor, his fingers clinging absentmindedly to the oriental rug that covered Kin’s living room almost wall-to-wall. In the middle of them all was the coffee table where Kin’s mom had left a tray of cookies and milk.

But no one was hungry.

The antique clock on the mantle chimed, singing to them that it was noontime. The school had been dismissed shortly after The Incident. The four of them had hung around the scene (due to Cadence’s eager insisting) as the police and paramedics had arrived, though Nadia had kept her face buried in Kin’s shoulder the whole time. Kin’s father was on the police force and had sent Kin and his friends away with the promise to fill them in as soon as he got home. Then, Kin’s mother had driven up and taken them away from the school, over which a suffocating, portentous veil had been draped.

Oran sighed quietly and shifted so that his legs were dangling over one arm of the chair and his back was resting against the other. He pulled on the loose threads sprouting from the perimeter of the hole in his jeans, and then ran his fingertip over the smooth, pale skin of his thigh that was exposed because of the rip. He remembered tearing this particular pair of jeans two years ago, when he was fifteen. Well, if truth be told, he hadn’t torn them. No, blame belonged entirely to the kitten that Kin had rescued from a sewer. Oran still remembered the way Kin had smiled and laughed at the kitten’s antics. It was as if the memory was sewn into the fabric of his jeans with a golden thread, and that was perhaps the only reason that he still had them.

One of Nadia’s sobs jarred Oran from his pleasant reverie. He drew his hand away from the hole and folded his arms across his chest in true Oran fashion.

Silence fell over the room. Nadia had managed to quell her sobbing and was now mutely leaning into Kin, who willingly held her. Oran forced himself to keep his face forward, away from the two on the couch, and found himself staring at some archaic painting hanging on the wall. His calculating eyes traced the almost invisible brushstrokes and the contours of the woman in the picture, who was sitting on the smooth, marble steps of a temple, staring wistfully up at the bluer than blue sky. The only thing preventing the painting from looking like a photograph was, in fact, the sky; Oran knew that in reality, the sky was never that blue.

“Wasn’t that fantastic?” Cadence asked, popping the bubble of quiet.

Kin narrowed his azure eyes in confusion. “What are you taking about? Ms. Andrews’ murder?”

Cadence shook his head, saying, “First of all, there’s no proof that it was murder. Second of all, I’m talking about that earthquake…and the light… It was amazing.”

While his friends wordlessly questioned his sanity, Cadence carried on undeterred by the odd looks the other three were giving him. “It was so strange. I don’t understand it.” His green eyes were dancing with a sort of light that no one could place. He leaned back on his hands and looked up at the ceiling. “I mean, firstly, earthquakes aren’t common around here. Some people don’t even know what an earthquake is; they’re too wrapped up in their seafaring lives. So, where did it come from? And that light! I’d never thought anything could be so…agh, so damn bright.”

“Same here,” Kin said.

“But where the hell did it come from? Don’t you want to know?” Cadence was grinning with something akin to mischief, an impish sort of curiosity, his eyes still sparkling excitedly. His friends were a little nervous.

“M-Ms. Andrews is dead, and that’s all you can think about?” Nadia asked incredulously.

“The living have no reason to dwell on the dead,” Cadence answered cryptically, smile faltering a little.

There was a short silence as his friends took Cadence’s words into consideration before Kin said, “I agree.”

“Kin!” Nadia gave him a wide-eyed look.

“But it makes sense,” Kin argued. “Look at you, for example.” He squeezed her shoulder, saying, “You keep thinking about Ms. Andrews and getting yourself all upset.”

“B-But…she’s dead, Kin. Dead. How can I not be upset?”

“By not thinking about it.” Kin smiled brightly, and Oran turned his head towards his honey-haired friend, as if able to feel the warmth radiating from the simple quirk of Kin’s lips. He loved Kin’s smiles. Seeing Kin giving his smile to Nadia made his heart drop into his stomach.

He shook his head and then decided to voice a question that had been stewing in his mind since The Incident that morning. “Did you guys…hear that sound?”

Three pairs of eyes turned to him. “What sound?” Kin asked.

Oran felt his heart descend another few inches, weighted down with worry and the thought that maybe he shouldn’t have said anything in the first place. Nonetheless, he continued, “When we went outside, I heard a…sound.” There was no other way to describe it. The sound hadn’t been obnoxious or grating or even all that loud. But it had made his nerves tingle uncomfortably. He remembered holding tightly to Kin’s hand with one of his own, and then covering an ear with the other.

“When?” Nadia asked, frowning bemusedly.

“It was…when we went outside,” Oran repeated, elaborating with, “when everything was really bright.”

“What did it sound like?” Cadence wondered.

“Like…” Oran shrugged. “I can’t describe it.”

“I…didn’t hear anything, anything strange, at least,” Kin said slowly, still combing his memory, just to make sure he really didn’t recall any sort of weird sound. Again, he drew a blank.

Oran looked away, nestling his head into the plush armchair and closing his eyes. “Never mind, then. It was probably nothing.”

--p-a-g-e--b-r-e-a-k--

“So, what happened?” Cadence asked. His eagerness seemed almost uncontainable, bubbling from his aura and splattering those around him in neon-pink.

Hoshi sighed tiredly, pulling off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. Settling his spectacles back on his straight nose, Kin’s father said, “They don’t know.”

Silence.

Oran set down his pizza and said, “They don’t know?” Disbelief rang hollowly in his voice.

“Well, what were the results of the autopsy?” Kin pressed.

“Kin!” his mother chided. “Not at dinner.”

Kin forced back a frustrated groan and began devouring his pizza. The others followed suit.

Once the table was clear, Hoshi began recounting what had happened earlier that day, concerning The Incident.

“When they conducted the autopsy, they found that Ms. Andrews’ heart was…missing.”

“What do you mean, missing?” Cadence asked, his voice wavering slightly.

“Exactly what I said. They opened up her chest and…everything was cleanly severed. Her aorta, vena cava, pulmonary vein and pulmonary artery…where they should have been connected to her heart, they were just…severed. It was almost as if someone had cut her heart out. But there were no signs of prior surgeries, so that couldn’t have been the case.” Hoshi’s voice sounded almost empty, with the threads of disgust and dread laced through his words as the memory of the sight he’d witnessed earlier flashed through his mind. Rubbing his eyes behind his spectacles again, he said, “On top of that, her corpse was completely drained of blood; not a drop left. Otherwise, there was absolutely nothing wrong with her. No injuries, not a single scratch. No damage to any other internal organs. Nothing.”

Hoshi paused, then said, “Well, except for the bruises. It almost looked as if she had been…well, shackled.”

Kin lifted an inquisitive brown eyebrow. “‘Shackled’?”

“Yes. It looked like someone had put shackles around her wrists, her ankles, and her neck. They were black and blue all the way around.”

“That’s…scary,” Oran murmured.

Hoshi ran his hands through his thinning, brown hair. “Not as scary as a heart completely disappearing. At least the bruises are explainable; the missing heart is a total mystery.”

“Do they have any idea how or why all of this happened to her?” Nadia asked.

Hoshi said slowly, “The only thing we know is that her son passed away last year.”

Kin frowned. “She had a son?”

“Mmhm. He was an illegitimate child, named Antoine. He died last September from leukemia.”

“How sad,” Nadia murmured.

“Indeed. But we have no idea how that might tie into any of this.”

Cadence leaned forward. “What do they know about the earthquake and that…that light?” The zealous glint was back in his eyes.

“They’re still looking into it,” Hoshi explained. “But again, the earthquake is explainable; the light, like the missing heart, is a mystery. No one can even begin to speculate as to where it came from or what it was because no one’s ever seen anything like it. And they can’t find a possible source, somewhere the light could’ve originated from, because it disappeared so suddenly.”

“Not to mention,” Cadence added, “that that light engulfed everything. There was—there is—no way to pinpoint a source, at least, not from this town. Maybe someone outside the area saw where the light had come from…?”

Hoshi shook his head. “They don’t know yet. It’s probably going to take a while to investigate.”

Cadence sat back with a distinctly disappointed air. The glint in his eyes had changed again; now it looked almost restless.

The phone rang, ruffling the silence that had settled over the kitchen like a blanket. Kin’s mother pushed out of her chair, the legs scraping across the tile floor.

“Hello?”

More silence, punctuated randomly by Ai’s “Yes” and “No” and “I’ll tell him” until she hung up, the phone returning to his cradle with a quiet click.

“Cadence,” she said, “your mother wants you home.”

Cadence nodded, slipping out of his chair. Before stepping out the back door, he said, “Thanks for the pizza” to Kin’s parents, and then, “I’ll talk to you guys later” to his friends.

Nadia stood after Cadence’s departure and announced that she should probably be heading home, too.

Nadia left, and just as Oran was considering whether or not he should leave as well, Kin hastily rose to his feet and said, “Oran, let’s go down to the beach.”

Oran blinked. “What?”

Kin nodded resolutely, as if regardless of whether or not Oran agreed, they were doing as Kin wanted. “Let’s go down to the beach.” He took Oran’s hand and tugged, forcing the boy to his feet.

“Kin, it’s late…” his mother said with a shadow of objection in her voice.

“Mom, it’s only seven o’clock. It’s still light out,” Kin argued.

“Let them go, Ai,” Hoshi said softly.

Ai sighed resignedly, nodding. “All right. Just make sure you’re back by nine.”

“Will do.” Kin gave her a two-fingered salute and pulled Oran along behind him as he left the kitchen, proceeding out the front door without his shoes. Shoes were a little-needed luxury around the coastal town, and people were often found strolling down the boardwalk or along the beach barefoot.

“Do you want to sleep over tonight?” Kin asked as they crossed the street.

Caught off guard, Oran found himself stammering in automatic reply. “Uh…well… I don’t know… Maybe… I……um……”

Kin laughed, though Oran could hear the strain in it. “If you don’t want to, it’s okay…” The way he said it made it sound like it wasn’t okay.

“…Sure.”

“Sure?”

Oran smiled softly, seeing Kin’s eyes light with hope. “Sure, I’ll sleep over.”

A broad smile broke across Kin’s face, and Oran could have sworn a bucket of warm water had been poured over his head just then. “Great! We’re not having school for the rest of the week; the principal called earlier today, my mom said.”

Oran nodded.

Soon, they felt wooden panels beneath their feet. The boardwalk ran along the shore, and had been there for longer than anyone cared to remember. Whenever the townspeople walked down it, the planks creaked and moaned, giving the impression of an old man complaining about how youth is wasted on the young.

They passed the boardwalk and were on the beach, the sand shifting and teasing between their toes. Down the shore a ways, there was a cluster of rocks that jutted out from the shoreline into the ocean, as if trying to break free from the proverbial chains that held it steadfastly to the land and drift off into the sea. Tacitly, Oran and Kin deemed that their destination.

Oran let his eyes wander over the lingering beachgoers with interest. There was The Old Couple, aimlessly strolling down the shore and sharing an ice cream cone, seeming to float on their own little Cloud Nine, oblivious to the world around them. Oran felt a pang of jealousy, but vehemently bid it away. Laying on their colorful beach towels were The Prima Donnas, trying to soak up the last few rays of nonexistent sunlight to copper their skin. Some of them were uselessly waving to capture the attention of The Surfers, who were idling out in the flat water on their boards. Too engrossed in their own animated conversation, the boys paid the girls on shore no mind.

Oran was snapped from his musings as a jagged stone caught the ball of his foot. Looking around, he saw that they’d reached the small chersonese. He teetered precariously as they clambered up the slippery, seawater-washed rocks and to the end of the stone jetty. He set his eyes on the horizon in front of them, keeping a tab on his friend out of the corner of his vision to make sure Kin didn’t fall. They came to a stop at the end of the precipice and sat down mutely. Words were unnecessary and would only encroach upon the peaceful silence of the twilight hour.

Currently, the sun was sinking into the ocean. Which meant…

Oran looked back and, sure enough, there was the moon, her milky halo outshining the stars that kept her company. Regardless of her brilliance, the moon seemed to fit so perfectly into her nighttime environment, relaxing snugly into the velvet blackness like a puzzle piece. Light and darkness, melding together to make a picture of deadly perfection, the paragon of debauchery that was just all too seductive and sent sensual sparks careening through the vulnerable senses of humankind.

“…ran. Hey, Oran!”

Oran jumped, turning his attention back to his friend. “Hm?” he murmured.

Kin offered him an easy smile, saying, “You were just…uh, spacing out.”

“Right, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Kin looked over Oran’s shoulder and said, “It is beautiful, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“The moon. It’s beautiful.”

Oran shrugged. “Perhaps. But…it’s the sun that makes it beautiful,” he pointed out.

Kin tilted his head with curiosity. “How’s that?”

Oran thought for a moment before answering, “Without the sun, the moon wouldn’t shine, right?”

Kin took this into consideration and then said, “Yeah, I guess that’s true.” He gave Oran an indiscernible look that seemed almost conflicted before he shook his head and added with a small smile, “Orie, you think took much.”

Oran stifled a chuckle at the childish nickname and said, “No, thought doesn’t have much to do with it; I just feel too much.”

“How can someone ‘feel too much’? Isn’t feeling a good thing?”

“Too much of a good thing can easily become a bad thing,” Oran murmured, something dark staining his voice. His hands gripped the sticky stone tighter as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Kin, though he said nothing on the matter. He had learned long ago that Oran shared what he wanted to share and kept a tight lid on things he felt were, presently, better left unsaid. Usually, he revealed such things in time, but there were some that were forever sealed behind his lips. Pressing him on the matter did nothing except bother the pertinacious boy. Kin always tried to not let it bother him.

Kin attempted to dip his toes into the taunting ocean waves that crashed just below his feet, but alas, his legs weren’t long enough. Glancing over, he saw that Oran’s were. He still marveled at the fact that Oran had grown to be almost three inches taller than him.

It was silent for a while. The rolling waves lazily lapped the rocks, the breeze riding the white crests. The sun was gone now, only leaving behind the fiery stain of twilight. Kin inhaled the familiar salty air, tasting the salinity on his lips. His thoughts meandered over the previous hours of the day, from the normal morning that had quickly morphed into a nightmarish fantasy, to dinner when his father had relayed the startling news of Ms. Andrews’ autopsy, to now. He thought of his friends...one blonde in particular. Strange how he’d found himself thinking of her a lot lately.

“Hey Oran,” Kin spoke tentatively, “what do you think of Nadia?”

Oran passed the younger boy a furtive sidelong glance that, if only one had looked hard enough to notice, held all of the venom of an adder. But Kin didn’t notice; he wasn’t even looking at his friend, but silently staring down at the waves snapping harmlessly at his toes. “I don’t actually think much of her,” he answered finally. “Why do you ask?”

Kin shook his head. “Just, uh...wondering, I guess.”

“What do you think of her?”

Oran thought he saw Kin blush, but it might have been nothing more than the stain of sunset playing across his face. “She’s...nice. Kinda cute, too.”

“...Do you have a crush on her?”

Kin bit his bottom lip, though Oran caught the barely there shadow of a smile that tugged at his friend’s mouth. “I might. I don’t know for sure; I’ve never really had a crush on anyone before.”

“Well, it’s a warm sort of feeling that you get whenever the other person is around,” Oran said slowly, softly, almost shyly. “You get nervous, and sometimes you forget how to string words together, or you forget how to speak all together. Your heart jumps, speeds up, and your stomach somersaults or twists into knots, and it sounds like it should hurt, but it doesn’t. It feels...good.”

Kin’s gaze had slipped to his friend in the midst of Oran’s talking, and he smiled then. “You’ve...had a crush on someone before? You never told me that.”

“It was a long time ago. And it didn’t really...last very long. The crush, that is.”

Kin hummed thoughtfully, though he couldn’t help but feel the unpleasant nag in his gut that had made itself known upon learning that his best friend had kept something like his first crush from him.

Kin shook his head, banishing the disappointment and standing, tucking his thoughts on Nadia away for later analysis. Suddenly, other things had taken residence in the forefront of his thoughts. “Let’s go swimming,” he said.

“Swimming?” Oran’s smooth brow creased as he looked up at his friend. “But, we don’t have suits or towels or anything. And it’s late.” He’d have thought he’d be accustomed to Kin’s impulsive nature by now, but time and time again he found that the boy could still take him by surprise.

“Come on, Oran!” Kin entreated. He seemed suddenly eager, smiling widely. “Don’t you remember? When we were little, we used to go swimming all the time, swimsuits or no!”

But that was when we were little, Oran thought, before the hormones had kicked in. Oh, how he missed the good old days.

And then he saw it. The downward twitch of Kin’s lips, the sudden crestfallen look in his azure eyes, eyes that seemed to reflect emotion without temperance. Oran groaned. How could he deny The Pout? It was truly Kin’s strongest weapon, especially against his best friend, who always had enough trouble refusing him as it was.

“We rarely do anything together anymore,” Kin all but whined. “You haven’t slept over in ages, and I can’t even remember the last time we went swimming, just the two of us!”

But Oran remembered. He remembered that the last time they’d gone swimming, it had been a disaster. Every second alone with Kin, Oran had felt the maelstrom brewing inside him grow worse and worse…and worse… And all from the mere sight of Kin in his bathing suit, soaked with seawater from head to toe. Though he would never deny that it was an appealing sight, it had just been ridiculous, the way his body had reacted! Oran really wished he could keep a harness on his emotions. His life would be so much easier.

Kin huffed sulkily, interrupting Oran’s less-than-pleasant memory. “What, are you worried about ruining your make-up or something?”

Oran made a face at his friend, replying indignantly, “Of course not.”

Kin began to give up hope. And that was when Oran saw the raw sadness behind Kin’s pout, and he conceded. “All right. Let’s go swimming.”

Kin lit up like a nightlight, happily beaming. Briefly, Oran flashed on a six year-old version of his best friend. It was amazing how, underneath his teenage exterior, there was still a child lurking. Oran wondered if his inner child was still thriving at the core of his soul, or if it had died years ago, as he suspected. He shook his mind free of such silly ponderings and stood, brushing the pebbles and dirt from his jeans. He felt a spark ignite in his hand as Kin grabbed it, prickling his skin pleasantly.

Soon, they had left the outcropping and were trekking through the sand. Kin stopped once they’d meandered a good seven feet from the rocks and released Oran’s hand to tug his shirt off.

Oran turned away and fought back a furious blush that threatened to bloom like a carnation in his pale face. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Silently, he thanked the gods for the cover of night to hide the evidence of his shame. “Um, Kin,” he spoke up, cursing the way his voice betrayed his current state of fluster, “maybe we shouldn’t do this. I mean, the lifeguards aren’t on duty at this hour and everyone else’s gone. What if something happens?”

“Nothing’ll happen,” he heard Kin’s easy reply.

“How do you know?”

“Because you’re here.”

“W-What? What does that have to do with anything?”

“…I know that you won’t let me drown.”

Oran laughed nervously. “And what if I drown?”

“You won’t let that happen, either.”

“Why not?”

“Because then there’d be no one to look out for me.”

A third party listening in on this conversation might have thought Kin’s reasoning ridiculous, but to him, it made perfect sense. Oran was always there for him; he trusted his best friend more than anyone else. They’d been together for as long as he could remember; they’d sworn they’d be together forever.

Friends until the end.

So naturally, Kin knew that he had nothing to fear anything when Oran was with him. And Oran knew it, too; he would gladly kill himself before letting something happen to Kin.

“Okay, so you have me there,” Oran said. He bit his lip nervously. Carefully averting his eyes and tethering his vision to the sand beneath his feet, he tugged off his own shirt and let it fall to the ground. Then, his hands fumbled with the fastening of his jeans, and soon they had gone the way of the first garment. His eyes slid from his feet to his stomach, to the charm decorating his naval, and he smiled fondly. Like so many things, the bellybutton ring was infused with a memory shared with Kin.

He heard his friend’s laugh and looked up, seeing Kin following the previous path of Oran’s gaze to the piercing. Slowly, Kin stepped forward and reached for the bellybutton ring, flicking the silver crescent moon charm that dangled from it. “Good times,” Kin murmured warmly.

Oran smiled gently and brushed away a stray lock of Kin’s golden-brown hair that hid his earring. There hung a piercing with a sun charm, made from the same silver metal as Oran’s moon. They’d gotten them done together, for Kin’s thirteenth birthday. Kin had wanted to get his ear pierced, but was too nervous to do it alone, so Oran had gone with him and left with a fresh hole through his naval. It wasn’t as if he’d planned to get it done; on the contrary, he’d never given body piercings a flicker of a thought. But, when it involved Kin, things always seemed to turn upside down.

He felt a gentle tug on his arm, and realized with a certain flare of panic that he’d been snatched from the safety of his reverie. He anxiously averted his eyes from Kin, consequently missing the glimmer of hurt that seared Kin’s blue irises as his friend turned away. “Oran…” he murmured, his tone of voice one that usually came before the timeless question, “What’s wrong?” But Kin didn’t ask. He just shook his head and forced a smile, so that just in case Oran did happen to face him again, he wouldn’t make his friend worried. “Let’s get in the water,” he said.

Oran nodded wordlessly and pulled his arm from Kin’s grasp, treading over the sand towards the ocean. Kin couldn’t help but admire the way the bluish moonlight gilded Oran’s pale skin, highlighting his raven hair and reflecting off of the silver dye. Oran’s toes reached the lapping waves and he shivered at the chill. Feeling very alone suddenly, he asked, “Are you coming?”

Kin nodded and went to join his friend at the water’s edge, his smile still putting on a delightful charade. Of course, Oran missed the show. Without another word, Kin dove headfirst into the ocean.

The sound of Kin’s splash whispered over the monotonous roll of the tide, and his bell-like laugh danced along as he jumped up from the water and pushed his wet bangs out of his eyes. “Come on, Oran! You’re such a stick-in-the-mud!”

Oran wrinkled his nose indignantly but nonetheless laughed outright. “You’re just too reckless for your own good,” he replied coolly.

Kin rolled his eyes and waded towards his friend, tossing some of the brackish water in his face with a sweep of his arm. “Just get in the water, you fool.”

“Oh, I’m the fool?” Oran asked mockingly.

“Yes, you’re the fool.” There was a twitch of Kin’s lips, and his usual, candid smile finally replaced its stunt double. He raised a brown eyebrow challengingly, daring Oran to offer a rejoinder.

Embarrassment forgotten, Oran stepped through the waves, a devilish glint in his eyes. “I beg to differ,” he said before grabbing Kin around the waist and lifting him just enough to toss the boy aside, sending him laughing and spluttering into the knee-deep water.

Oran stood over Kin, smirking down at him condescendingly as the shorter boy staggered to his feet, making a face at the bitter, nauseating taste of salt on his tongue. Kin huffed, again swiping at his hair, and said, “Oh, now you’re in for it.”

Oran felt his face drain of what little color it had before Kin’s fingers attacked Oran’s sensitive sides. The raven-haired boy yelped and spun away, nearly stumbling over his own feet as the current pulled at his ankles. “No fair!” he cried.

“All’s fair in love and war,” Kin offhandedly quoted. Before Oran could ponder on the meaning behind his friend’s words, he was forced to dive forward, away from Kin. Kin gave chase, and soon they were splashing recklessly through the water, the sounds of their laughter adding to the commotion of the sloshing ocean.

Spurred by the innocent glee, the moon smiled lovingly down at them while the stars twinkled mischievously. The wind whispered something to the moon, and she murmured her consent, smile widening. The palm trees danced in delight, joining in on the joke as the mute words rolled across the ocean waves and sandy beach, reaching their leafy ears.

“Fine, I give!” Oran rolled onto his back, feeling the sand stick to his wet skin. Kin had chased him ashore and was now straddling his stomach, still tickling his poor friend. “I said I give!” Oran gasped, breathing heavily. He tried to fight back his laughter as Kin continued to torture him relentlessly. Oh, how he hated being so ticklish.

Kin was laughing too, albeit with a more impish note in his voice. His eyes twinkled evilly as Oran continued to squirm, trying in vain to escape from the tickling. “Say that I’m the best,” he commanded.

“Y-You’re…th-hah…the best!” Oran managed between painful laughs.

“Say I’m the smartest!” Kin persisted, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“You’re—ah—the smart-smartest!”

“Say I’m—”

“Kin! Please, stop!” Oran pleaded. His lungs hurt, and his stomach was sore from the forced laughter and the ceaseless attacks of Kin’s fingers.

Kin paused, looking down at his friend, and conceded. “All right, all right… Ruin my fun.” He pouted adorably, folding his arms across his chest.

Now that he wasn’t being taken advantage of via his Ultimate Weakness, Oran greedily drank in the salty air and rolled his head back into the sand, looking up at the nighttime sky. He was all too aware of Kin’s weight on his stomach, and the fact that Kin was very wet, and that his blue boxer shorts were clinging to his hips and thighs in a way that was far too appealing to be considered legal. Legal, according to Oran’s Book of Universal Laws and Truths, of course.

“…Kin…” he whispered, “can you let me up?”

“Oh!” Kin squeaked. “Sorry.” He scrambled to his feet, apparently just realizing that he was still sitting on his breathless, weary friend.

Oran lay there for a moment more before taking the hand Kin was offering and being pulled to his feet. He briefly staggered as the sand shifted mockingly beneath his heels and then forced a smile. “You wanna…head home now?” he asked meekly.

Kin looked around the beach, searching for something that he didn’t know the nature of, before answering, “Nah, let’s stay a little while longer.”

Oran started, arguing, “But you’re mom said to get back by nine.”

“We’ve barely been out an hour. It’s probably quarter of eight now; we have time.” He put his hands on his hips and tilted his head. “What’s the hurry?”

Oran fought back a blush and muttered, “Uh…nothing. It’s,” he sighed inaudibly, “nothing.” He smiled then, almost apologetically. “I’m just a little tired, is all.”

“Oh. Well, then…” Kin flopped down in the sand, folding his hands over his stomach and looking up at the black canvas of sky, “lay down, if you’re tired.”

Oran sighed again, seeing no way out of the potentially compromising situation, and laid down next to Kin. The sand was rough against his back, but wonderfully familiar and welcoming. The moon was still smiling down at them, though it went unnoticed by the two. The wind chuckled at their naïveté, ruffling their hair fondly while the waves laughed along. Oran felt a strange sort of peace settle over him then, completely depleting his earlier fluster, and he decided that he wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else at that moment.

Everything was just so beautifully perfect.

The time dragged on as the moon continued her trek across the sky, moving the shadows respectively as she journeyed. Oran felt his eyelids growing heavy, harbingering the otherworldly realm of sleep sure to overtake him soon. As he listened to Kin’s quiet breathing, he knew that his friend was already gone. He’d always been prone to dozing off on the spur of the moment. Kin slowly shifted, unconsciously slinging his arm over Oran’s stomach. Oran’s breath hitched, but only for a second.

He’s also always been prone to cuddling while he sleeps, Oran thought almost bitterly. Kin curled towards the warmth of his friend, nestling his head into the curve of Oran’s neck and shoulder. Oran, blinking sleepily, threw caution to the wind and turned into his friend’s embrace, wrapping his arm around Kin’s tanned shoulder.

Before his eyes slid closed for the last time that night, Oran pressed his lips into Kin’s honey-haired crown, then finally rested his cheek on top of Kin’s head and drifted off to sleep.

--p-a-g-e--b-r-e-a-k--

“Perfect, isn’t he?” A tongue darted out to wet soft, pink lips as the wind angrily raked through tangled, blonde hair, as if yelling at the interloper to leave.

“I admit, you have a good sense about you when it comes to these things,” was the agreement as the wind’s warnings went unheard, or rather, ignored.

“He is perfect,” came a quiet voice, one that gave the impression of liquidity, cool and glassy.

“But when?” asked a fourth. Calm, verdant eyes swept calculatingly over the two tangled together on the sand.

“Soon.”

“But not soon enough!” whined the blonde. “Why can’t it be sooner?”

“Stop being so impatient.” The tone was reprimanding, sapphire irises flashing venomously.

“Hmph,” was the impudent grunt in reply.

The insolence was ignored, but not unnoticed. Instead, the owner of the blue eyes murmured, “It will come soon enough. We just need to wait a bit longer.”

The wind gusted furiously again, and this time it was regarded.

“Let’s go.”

And then the wind stilled, satisfied.