Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“What does that even mean, though?” Iseya asked—yet the words were so quiet he seemed to be speaking more to himself than to Summer. “What does it mean for me to be here without her?”
“I don’t know.” Summer glanced at Iseya from the corner of his eye. “But it sounds like you might be ready to find out.”
Iseya said nothing, but for a moment those carefully shielded silver eyes seemed to crack, turning liquid, brows knitting, lips parting as he stared at the Buddha as if it might give him some sort of answer in the silence.
Before he bowed his head, his breaths shuddering audibly as he plucked a small lighter from inside the paper sack, and lit the tip of the incense cone with a brief flick of his thumb, a spark, a flicker of flame. The peak of the cone turned into a deep-glowing ember, and a soft, powdery scent rose like dragon’s blood.
Iseya set the lighter down, silver eyes flicking upward to track the curl of incense smoke; Summer followed it as well, a strange heaviness settling on his shoulders, before looking back to Iseya as the man spoke.
“It’s ritual, at this point. And I suppose I have to finish it, even if it feels meaningless.” He turned his head just enough to catch Summer’s eye, the faint red spark of the incense’s cone reflecting in his eyes. “You...do not have to leave, if you do not wish to.”
A little flutter ran through the pit of Summer’s stomach. “What’s the ritual?” he asked, barely able to find his voice above a whisper. “What are you doing?”
Iseya turned away from him, then, tilting his head back, looking up at the rising coil of thick, ribbon-like white smoke as it wisped toward the ceiling.
“Trying,” he said, “to finally say goodbye.”
Summer said nothing.
It didn’t feel like words were needed, in this moment.
Just...that he be here, to answer that quiet unspoken need in Iseya’s words.
You do not have to leave.
When Summer thought, just maybe...
Iseya might mean stay.
So he stayed.
He stayed, and he watched the incense burn down with Iseya, and let its scent drift into him as he wondered what this meant.
If it meant anything at all.
Maybe Iseya was ready to let go, to stop living his life locked away in grief...
But maybe all he needed for that was a friend, and Summer thought...
That was okay.
He just...
He just wanted Iseya to be okay, no matter what that meant.
Yet standing so close to Iseya, Summer couldn’t help how their shoulders brushed, as they stood silent vigil. How their arms pressed together. How the backs of their hands touched.
And when his hand fell against Iseya’s, he didn’t pull away.
Neither did Iseya.
And for a few sweet moments, as they stood amidst winding serpentine coils of aromatic smoke and breathed and didn’t say a word...
Their fingertips tangled, and held.
They stayed that way, wordless and yet Summer leaping inside, at once calm and ready to burst with fluttering warmth, until the incense burned down to a little dense pile of soft gray ash. Until the smoke stopped, and that cherry-red ember that was the only light between them burned out. Still they remained for long moments...until Iseya pulled away, and reached up to close the cabinet, settling the doors into place with a soft thump and a quiet sense of finality.
He rested there with his palms against the wood, looking up at it, before he turned a look over his shoulder, watching Summer over one upraised bicep, its curve pulled taut.
“I suppose,” he said dryly, “since it’s after midnight, you’ll be wanting your kiss now. For being brave enough to intervene with the boys.”
Summer pulled from his quiet trance, blinking at Iseya while his breaths swirled into a storm in his chest. Something about the way the man looked at him promised...
He didn’t know.
He didn’t know what to think of the way those heady, compelling gray eyes lingered on him, or the way they seemed to burn in the shadows.
Especially when he couldn’t forget that ache that made a third presence in the room, either.
After a moment, he just smiled, shaking his head, stepped closer.
And leaned in to press his lips to Iseya’s cheek, nosing lightly past a messy skein of his hair to press a lingering kiss to the crest of his cheekbone.
Iseya’s skin was subtly weathered, just a hint of roughness and texture that came with age and daily shaving, something Summer wanted to savor against his skin, to absorb...but he made himself pull back, rather than invading further, holding on to his smile even though some part of him felt like breaking as he met Iseya’s wide, startled eyes, that strange lost look Summer almost never saw, lips parted, cheeks flushed.
“That’ll do,” Summer murmured, then lifted his gaze to the shrine, their dim and reddened reflections. “Thank you for letting me be a part of this.”