Chapter Text
Sae got out of the uber and took his two massive suitcases up the drive. He hated this and everything about it, so he just tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. If he focused on this moment, just what was in front of him, the worst problem in his life was whether to knock or ring the bell.
He opted for knocking. They were expecting him, so it didn’t take long for the door to open. Suddenly, the problems in his life were returning and forcing him to confront them.
Rin stood there, looking blank faced, which he appreciated. His normally overactive husband, who was peeking around his arm, looked awfully solemn. Which he did not particularly appreciate.
“Hi, Sae-chan,” he greeted him. His voice matched his face.
Rin didn’t greet him in any respect. He just looked down at the suitcases. “You need help with those?”
“No,” Sae answered, even though it would have been nice.
He was here for help of some kind, was he not? Still, it seemed near impossible to accept it. He figured it would be a work in progress and left it at that.
“Alright, then,” Rin said, stepping aside to let him in. “Make yourself at home.”
At Meguru’s insistence, Sae left his bags at the door. Because he didn’t immediately need anything from them, he figured it was a kindness he could provide.
The air was tense in the living room. Rin told him to make himself comfortable. Sae got a sudden knee jerk urge to stay standing just out of spite. He forced himself to sit. Meguru asked if anyone wanted tea, and left before anyone responded. The silence was all the kindness Sae really had in him. Rin seemed to pace a little, uneasily, and then forced himself to sit as well.
Rin didn’t know what to say, and Sae didn’t particularly feel like saying anything, so neither of them spoke.
Meguru came back with the tea. One cup, which he handed to Sae. He almost looked cheerful. This is for you, Sae-chan! But it was so painfully fake, that Sae couldn’t bear to say thank you. He couldn’t bear to say anything, so he didn’t. He just took the cup. When it burned his fingers, he told himself that he didn’t care.
He left and returned with two more cups, one for himself and one for Rin. This time, he sat. Next to Rin, so close they were pressed into each other. Like they needed each other for warmth. Or protection against Sae. Like his bad luck was contagious. They were both seated across from him too, which made Sae feel like he was about to be interviewed. Or interrogated.
“How are you?” Meguru asked.
So, this was an interrogation.
“I’m fine,” Sae answered. It was automatic.
“It’s okay if you’re not,” Meguru said, almost offensively softly. Sae was only semi-successful at keeping the look of distain off his face. “No one would judge you. Anyone would have a hard time going through a divorce.”
“I’m not going through a divorce,” Sae snapped. It was true, but just barely. Still, it was a truth he clung to with all the ferocity he had. “We’re doing a trial separation. We’re still married.”
Meguru nodded. He sipped his tea, and then said nothing else.
That was all the noise in the room for a while. The lifting of glasses off of the coffee table, the placing of them back down. The sipping, the swallowing, the breathing. The noises of shifting and throats clearing. Every other sound of discomfort in between.
The first sound in the room was Meguru asking if anyone needed a refill. Sae shook his head.
“I’ll take one,” Rin said, handing his cup over. “With honey this time, if you don’t mind.”
“Okay, honey.” Meguru said. Sae tried not to cringe.
Sae felt a little more relaxed once he’d left, knowing Rin was much less likely to ask after his feelings than his terminally upbeat husband. But Rin looked over his shoulder until the door to the kitchen swung shut, and then leaned himself across the table.
“Listen, asshole,” Rin hissed. “I’m letting you stay here out of the goodness of my heart. But if you’re going to stay here, you have to do the shit your therapist told you, and you can’t be a fucking dick to Meguru.”
“I’m not being a dick to him,” Sae said back.
“You’re not being nice.”
“I’m not nice.”
“Well, you are now,” Rin said harshly. “Or you can go spend your trial separation with mom and dad and they can teach you about the blissful existence of high functioning alcoholism within a loveless marriage.”
Sae didn’t know quite what to say to that. The whole statement slapped him across the face a hundred times over. He knew Rin was right. As right as he could readily admit Rin being. He knew that he needed to do his homework from couples therapy. And he knew that he definitely didn’t want to spend the next six weeks with his parents, which had been the main motivation for his swallowing his pride to ask Rin in the first place.
He also knew that he couldn’t take these feelings out on the people around him. But that was the hardest part. He had so many of them, none of which he knew how to identify, let alone what to do with.
He still didn’t really know how he’d gotten here. The first two years of marriage had been awesome. The next two, after they’d taken different contracts, had been alright. Manageable. Doable. Survivable. But the last year, after Ryusei’s injury, which had been career ending but not life ending and not necessarily marriage ending, they hadn’t thought so anyways, had been awful. In so many different ways that Sae couldn’t even really unravel. And despite the route they’d taken, here they were. On a trial separation. Suggested by their couples therapist six months into seeing them twice a week.
Translation: you guys are fucked, but I can’t legally tell you that you should get divorced.
Sae had wanted to do his trial separation somewhere hot and secluded. Since he was taking an extended break for it anyways, he felt he deserved a vacation. Somewhere he could go to do yoga and swim laps and ignore his untouched journal – which he’d bought for the sole purpose of doing his therapy homework – and just clear his head. But their therapist had ruled it out. She said they should both act as if they were really indeed separating and go stay with family or friends for emotional support. Even a hotel room in the city was ruled out.
It had left him with very few options.
Down in his pocket, his phone buzzed. It was surprising, seeing as he told everyone he was on leave and not to fucking bother him, but he checked it anyways. It made his stomach twist to see Shidou Ryusei flash across the screen. He hadn’t seen that in so long. Ryusei had set his own name in Sae’s phone. It had been My Little Demon <3 since they’d been married.
He’d changed it back for the trial separation, though not expecting he’d see it, seeing as they weren’t supposed to talk to each other.
Still, he slid his phone open like muscle memory.
What’s the code for the safe in the closet?
The thought of Ryusei being at the apartment made him sick, but the message itself was so much worse. Because he knew what it should have said.
Saeeeeeee <3333
love of my life
what’s the code for our safe
I forgot :(((
He wondered if it was even him sending it. Or if he had tossed his phone to whoever he’d roped into helping him move his stuff out and said, text Sae for me, he knows the code. Then, he wondered who he might be with. He hadn’t asked. According to their therapist, it wasn’t Sae’s place anymore.
Or maybe it had been him that sent it. And that sending Sae emojis and taking way too long to get to the point wasn’t Ryusei’s place anymore.
Now he was spiralling. He punched the code into the text message bar, hit send, locked his phone, and tossed it onto the free chair next to him. Rin looked over at the phone and then back at Sae. It looked like that, anyways, through the water that was pooling up in the lower half of his eyes. Rin noticed this. It was clear from the way he averted his gaze. The Itoshis hadn’t grown up especially emotionally intelligent, and while both of them had somewhat managed in different contexts, it had been a while since they’d had to confront or deal with each other’s emotions.
When Meguru came back into the room, Sae averted his gaze. He looked out the window as he heard him hand Rin his mug back, take a seat, wait to see if either of them would say anything. They sat for a while in silence. Sae blinked his tears out of his eyes and managed to look back at them with his regular expression.
Meguru smiled at him. Sae loathed it.
They sat in silence a while before Meguru once again broke it.
“I’m going to head out for a while,” he said, standing. He leaned over to kiss Rin on the cheek, which he didn’t fight.
“What?” Rin said. “Where the hell are you going?”
Meguru looked over at Sae, not at all hiding the uneasiness on his face, and then smiled. Rin seemed to understand. Despite Meguru’s minimal efforts, so did Sae.
“I love you,” Meguru said.
“You too,” Rin said. “Bring some dinner home on your way, would you?”
“Sure,” he agreed.
With a click of the door, they were alone. Sae wanted to just put the homework off. It was the first fucking day. He needed at least a little buffer time. He thought he should just say he was exhausted and force himself through a nap. But Rin wasn’t moving. He was gripping the one armchair so tight, you’d think he was holding on for dear life.
Rin wasn’t really much more for feelings than Sae was, but regardless of everything, he had a better chance of getting an answer out of him. Sae had always tolerated Meguru. Keyword being tolerated. Meguru was not Sae’s cup of tea, but overall, he was fine. That being said, it didn’t take a genius to know Sae would feel uneasy around him throughout this whole thing.
He’d always been much better friends with Ryusei than Sae. Case in point: where he was heading right then was very clearly Sae’s old apartment with said safe in the closet.
“So,” Rin said after a long while. He then paused so long, Sae was halfway convinced he was not going to say anything else. But finally, he did. “How are you really?”
“I’m,” Sae started, but the words trailed off. He knew he wasn’t doing anyone, himself especially, any favours by pretending to be fine.
But the truth was, he didn’t really know how he was. There was a lot going on inside of him, and he didn’t know how to put any of it to words. Mostly, though, he figured he was sad. It seemed an appropriate emotion.
“I’m sad,” Sae forced himself to say.
Rin nodded once. “That sucks.”
That only annoyed Sae more. Moment of vulnerability gone. Walls back up.
“That sucks? Seriously?” Sae said. “Some emotional support you are.”
“Well, I’m not a fucking therapist,” Rin said back, throwing his hands up. “What the fuck do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know,” Sae said, equally exasperated. “Something more human than that.”
“Fine.” Rin looked right at him. “I told you so.”
“Wow,” Sae said, a long, drawn out, offended word.
“I did,” Rin said. “I told you this would happen because you wanted to marry a fucking psycho. And then it did. And now you’re sad. Which sucks. But it’s not like it was unavoidable. Or surprising.”
“You’re the asshole,” Sae said. He stood, but left his mug on the table. The barest amount of rebellion he could manage while still avoiding six whole weeks with his parents.
“Do you want to be babied or do you want the truth?” Rin called after him. “You can’t have it both ways!”
By the time Sae was heading into his first solo therapy session of the trial separation, he wanted to puke. It was just an automatic reaction at this point, after this many months. At least when he was coming here with Ryusei, even at their ugliest, he had someone else he was in this fucking mess with. This time, it was just him. Part of him wanted to head back to Rin’s house, collect all of his things, head to the nearest hotel, and say fuck it, let’s just divorce, if only to avoid all the bullshit that came with this trial separation.
After a few breaths, he managed to climb the steps and pull the door open.
Their couples therapist was quite possibly the oldest woman Sae had ever seen in real life. He had been truly dumbfounded when he saw her, thinking it was somebody’s grandmother who was waiting on a ride back to hospice. She had a white bun tied at the nape of her neck and everything she wore smelled like mothballs. But when she introduced herself as the name that matched the internet ad they’d found, he’d been forced to check that bias at the door. She was old, and worked solely because she loved it and not because she had to, and for someone who moved about the speed of molasses, she still had her wits about her. Sae would not go as far to say he liked her, but he had to admit that she knew her stuff and he thought she was alright.
“Sae,” she greeted him in the waiting room.
It was as professional as she always was. Not too eager, but sounding like she was pleased to see him. He didn’t bother trying to smile at her like he had the first time, but he offered an arm to her and helped her into her armchair, because for the first time since showing up, Ryusei wasn’t here to do it.
“Thank you, sweet boy,” she said. Sae wondered if she had him confused, partially because that was the same thing she said every time to Ryusei’s help, and partially because if anyone knew how little he deserved the nickname, it was her. As he took his seat, she smiled as if she stood by it. “So, how are you?”
Sae wouldn’t bother with I’m fine. Not here. He knew better at this point.
“I’m sad,” he told her.
“Yes, I’d imagine you would be. This is no easy thing,” she said with a soft smile. “Why don’t you elaborate on that.”
He thought about it for a second. Then, he shrugged. “How? I’m just sad.”
“Well,” she said. “Why are you feeling sad?”
“Are you joking?” he said, his tone sharpening.
“I don’t believe I am,” she said, refusing to yield. Sae’s jaw clenched. This was why Ryusei liked the old hag so much. They were exactly the same in how they went about irritating him. “A trial separation is difficult, and it stirs up many difficult emotions. If you’re sad, I understand. But you don’t seem particularly sad right now. Though, I’m not you. So, if you’re sad, tell me what you’re feeling sad about in this moment specifically.”
He thought about that for two seconds and then brought his brows together. Maybe he didn’t feel particularly sad in this moment specifically, but he didn’t feel all that inclined on backing down, because he already said it.
“I’m sad,” he said. “Because of everything.”
“Well, if you can’t identify why you’re feeling sad, maybe that’s not quite the right word for what you’re feeling.” She smiled at him. A cruel, vicious thing. He loathed it. “Maybe we should consult the emotion wheel.”
Sae had gotten better at controlling his scoffs of distain inside this suffocating office, but as she leaned down into the resource box on the table beside her, he did allow himself to roll his eyes. Sae loathed the emotion wheel. It was the very bane of his existence. She pulled it out every single session without fail. Sae had never known there existed that many emotions. Why couldn’t people just stick to happy, sad, and angry? Why did humans need any more than that?
She located it and pulled it out, showing it to him in all of its mocking rainbow glory. He knew the emotion wheel by heart at this point, and knew well enough how to bullshit his way through it. However, part of that tactic had been depending on Ryusei to shift the focus, and it’s not like he had that to fall back on or hide behind this time around.
“Is there anything here that better describes how you’re feeling?” she asked.
He pretended to peer at it. “Gloomy, I guess.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Feels right.”
“Let’s try another one,” she said. “And see if we can get closer.”
“I’m feeling pissed off,” he said. “Is that on there?”
“I don’t believe so,” she said. “But there is enraged. Or irritable. There’s even hostile. Are you feeling hostile, Sae?”
He knew she was mocking him in that way that she did, so he said nothing. He just glared.
She chuckled. “Why are you feeling so pissed off?”
“Because I fucking hate the emotion wheel,” Sae said.
“I’ll take it,” she said, setting the emotion wheel back down on the table at her side. He took comfort in that. She met his eye. “So, how has this week been for you?”
Sae could talk about the facts much more than he could talk about feelings. It was easy to tell her about how he’d packed up his things from the apartment and moved into Rin and Meguru’s. He was staying in their guest room. He got on with them fine. They were hospitable. It was better than staying with his parents.
The feelings were harder. He didn’t know how he felt about staying there. Or about Meguru and Ryusei being friends. Or about the looming threat of having to stay with his parents if he didn’t behave, like he was just some child in his younger brother’s house. It sucked. It all sucked. It was doable, but it sucked. And no, they didn’t have to consult the fucking emotion wheel.
When she announced they had five minutes left, he felt his body start to relax. Sure, he’d get some bullshit homework assignment, but he’d be free of this office, where he could choose whether or not to do it and he could be free of the fucking emotion wheel for another week.
“I’d like you to work a little on emotion identification this week,” she said, ruffling through her worksheet package. Sae’s face fell when he saw that her hands came out with a black and white, unlaminated version of the fucking emotion wheel. “In your journal, I’d like you to pick an emotion and write I’m feeling [emotion] because and see what it stirs up. If nothing comes to mind, skip it and go to the next one. You might surprise yourself.”
“Sure,” Sae said. He took the emotion wheel, folded it three times, and stuck it in his pocket, where he was planning to leave it all week.
He went to help her out of the chair, but she said she didn’t have another client right away, and she would sit for a while, so he left. He stuck his hands in his pockets, and upon finding the emotion wheel, groaned. He thought about tossing it in one of the wastebaskets on the street, but decided against it, in case he needed to prove to Rin that he was doing his therapy work.
This whole fucking thing sucked. He didn’t need to know why it sucked to know that it did.
He let himself into Rin and Meguru’s house with the key they’d given him. The house was suspiciously quiet. He was surprised to find Rin at the dining room table, a book lowered into his lap. Sae didn’t think too much about it. He nodded once. Rin nodded back in response. It was all the greeting they needed.
On his way into the kitchen, Sae plucked an apple out of the fruit bowl on the table and took a bite out of it.
“Hey, asshole!” Rin shouted after him.
“What?” Sae asked, genuinely confused.
“I was drawing that,” Rin snapped back, motioning towards the bowl of fruit.
“What?” Sae said back. A little less confused, but not much. “What the fuck? Did you just say you’re drawing?”
“Not anymore,” Rin said.
He lifted the book in his lap just enough to flip the cover closed. When he smacked it into the table, Sae saw that it was indeed a sketchbook. He placed a pencil on top of it, just as angrily.
“I didn’t know you drew,” Sae said.
“I don’t,” Rin said. Sae eyed him. Rin sighed. “Yuu is teaching a class down at the community centre. She didn’t think anyone would sign up, so I did.”
Sae had met Rin’s mother in law before, but he knew of her more than he knew her.
“That’s,” Sae started. Sweet? he thought. But he couldn’t bring himself to say it.
“But they did,” Rin said. “So, it’s just me and a bunch of retirees and high school kids and I’m still somehow worst in the class.”
Sae looked right at him. “That sucks.”
“Touché,” Rin said with an eye roll. “You want a beer or something?”
Sae scrunched his face up. “No.”
“Well, there’s wine on the rack too, your majesty,” Rin said sarcastically. “Get me one, would you?”
Sae was annoyed, but he went into the kitchen regardless and pulled out one of the long necked bottles and poured himself a glass of wine. He handed the beer to Rin and they shared a glance of this doesn’t mean we’re friends between them. But not knowing what to do with himself, Sae lingered.
“Go ahead and sit,” Rin said, motioning to the chair across from him.
Sae did. “Fine, whatever.”
They sat in silence a while. He wondered if he should ask more about Rin’s drawing, or his marriage, or his life in general, but everything felt so awkward, so he just said nothing. Rin didn’t seem to keen on speaking either, so Sae decided all was well.
Until Rin cleared his throat and asked, “How was therapy?”
“Fine,” Sae answered.
“Alright,” Rin said. He sipped his beer.
Sae took a massive sip of wine and let it go straight to his head. “Do you know the emotion wheel?”
“The what?” Rin asked.
Sae rolled his eyes. Kind of at Rin, mostly at himself. Of course Rin didn’t know about the emotion wheel. What the fuck had he ever needed to go to therapy for? Still, he reached into his pocket, pulled it out, and unfolded it.
“This,” Sae said, shoving it at him.
In his free hand, Rin took it. He looked it over a while, and then looked up at Sae, one eyebrow raised. “Rapturous? Enchanted? Serene? Who the fuck made this thing?”
“I fucking hate the emotion wheel,” Sae said.
“Do me a favor, would you?” Rin said, tossing it back across the table. “Don’t show that to Meguru. He’d have a fucking field day with it.”
“Deal,” Sae said, pulling it back. He went to fold it back again, but paused, looking it over again. He thought it must be nice to be Rin, to have automatically gravitated towards the emotions that stemmed from love and joy. “I’m supposed to work on emotion identification.”
Rin snorted a single beat of mocking laughter. Sae glared.
“What?” Rin said. “She’s right.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Sae said. “It’s not like you display the full spectrum of emotion.”
“How would you know?” Rin asked. Sae figured it was a decent point, and said nothing. “Why don’t you do some now?”
“No,” Sae said, mostly out of habit.
Rin shrugged. “Do or don’t. It’s not my trial separation. Just seems like it might be better to get it out of the way. Plus being a little drunk seems decent, too.”
Sae conceded. This wasn’t a half bad point either. “I have to go get my journal.”
“You mean your diary?”
“It’s not a diary,” Sae said. Rin looked doubtful. Sae figured he wasn’t all the way wrong. He motioned towards his glass. “Get me a refill, would you?”
Rin scoffed. “Only because I need one.”
When Sae got back from the guest room with his journal tucked under his arm, his wine glass had been refilled, one of the spindly potted plants had been moved over onto the table in the space between them, and Rin had his sketchbook opened back up to a blank page. He didn’t look at Sae as he sat back down, which he appreciated. He opened his journal to the first page, which was still blank, took a breath, and tried not to hate the emotion wheel as much as he looked down at it. It was semi-successful at best.
He wrote I feel enraged because
And then nothing. He sighed in frustration and went to the next line.
I feel hostile because
Nothing.
Sae closed his eyes and shoved the heels of his hands into them. This was fucking stupid. He felt it with every fibre of his being. This was never going to go anywhere. He took another massive gulp of wine. Rin didn’t look up. He was fully focused on his own task, which seemed to be peering at the plant on the table. Sae appreciated this too.
He put his pen down again.
I feel confused because he started, and then his pen didn’t stop. I don’t know how we got here and I don’t know how to fix it.
“Oh my god,” he whispered to himself.
Rin looked up. Sae ignored him and went to the next line.
I feel spiteful because the world has been so fucking cruel to me and I want to lash right back out at it.
Progress. This was progress.
I feel scared because everyone, Rin especially, warned me about getting married this young, and if we do get divorced, it just means that everyone was right and I’ll have failed at this just like I’ve failed at everything else I’ve ever tried.
He stared at that sentence a long time. Where the fuck had that come from?