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It was midnight when Ratio heard a knock on his door. He was still awake, grading papers in his living room. It was rare for him to have guests in general—let alone ones without notice—so, despite his reluctance, Ratio got up from his seat to see who it was.
And to his surprise, it was Aventurine.
Well, the gambler himself wasn’t the surprise.
It was his condition that managed to make Ratio flabbergasted. Bruises were visible on his face, yet his lips curved into his usual grin as if his blood wasn’t dripping on the floor.
“Hey, handsome,” Aventurine said. “I mean—hey, Professor. Aeons, you look really good with those glasses.”
Despite the teasing tone, Ratio noticed how shaky and heavy Aventurine’s voice was.
“Just kidding, Professor. So, there was a small accident on the mission—”
“Come in.”
Aventurine blinked. “Eh?”
“Just—” Ratio let out a sigh as he stepped aside. “Get in, I can tell that you’re about to pass out. I would prefer it if you don’t do it in front of my door.”
The smile was back on Aventurine’s face—this time, just a small curve.
It looked more genuine.
Aventurine entered the living room, and Ratio placed his hand near Aventurine’s shoulder, hovering above it to avoid inflicting more pain, to guide him toward the bedroom.
The first thing Aventurine noticed was how gentle Ratio’s hands were when he helped him out of his clothes. Every movement was done with care; Aventurine barely felt any pain despite having to move his injured limbs. Of course Ratio would be careful, Aventurine thought. Not that money bothered him, but he understood if Ratio used caution when handling his expensive coat.
So when Ratio turned to his wounds, he braced himself for the pain.
…only to realize that Ratio used even more care when he touched his skin.
“The one on your shoulder needs to be stitched,” Ratio said. “It’ll hurt, but do try to relax.”
Aventurine was no stranger to pain—the way it could make his skin crawl and his bones scream when his throat could no longer produce any sound. But what he was feeling was… strange. The pain was there, and Aventurine had braced himself for its inevitability, but there was something else that felt different.
The lack of a… sense of danger?
Pain exists to warn your body that something is damaged and urge you to get away from what’s causing it, he recalled, yet while he felt the pain, he felt no urge to pull away.
Before he realized it, he spoke breathily, “Ratio—”
“Sorry,” Ratio said—his voice was soft; so soft, it stung. “I know it hurts. I’ll be more careful.”
It doesn’t, Aventurine answered in his head. But that’s the problem.
Aventurine was too tired to keep trying to make sense of what was happening. He shook his head, biting his lower lip to keep himself from saying nonsense. His fingers clutched at the sheets.
“It’s done,” Ratio said. “But you probably still have to take a few days off and go to the hospital—”
“No hospital.”
Ratio sighed, looking as if he already expected Aventurine’s immediate refusal.
So, he did the obvious.
“...then stay here,” he said, sounding defeated. “Just until you recover. I insist.”
Every morning, Ratio would wake Aventurine up—who was sleeping on the couch because for some reason he refused to take the bed—and clean the wound before leaving to work. Every night, Ratio would sit him down on the couch to change the bandages.
He would feel Ratio’s fingers on his skin. Tending the wound carefully; attentive to Aventurine’s reactions—when a small hiss had escaped Aventurine’s lips, Ratio’s movements had grown gentler.
Was that even possible?
"Try not to do something stupid while I’m gone. I know you don’t have an ounce of self-preservation, but please do try.”
Ratio’s words were harsh, sure.
…and yet Aventurine couldn’t help but smile.
One night, Aventurine was working on a mission report on the couch, quietly typing on the laptop he borrowed from Ratio. Suddenly, the professor put a tray on the table. There was a cup of coffee, a cup of tea, and a big bowl of sliced fruits.
Ratio sat beside him, pulling out papers from his bag. “Drink; it’ll help you focus.”
Aventurine looked at Ratio for a moment before reaching for the coffee. “Ah, that’s really nice of you, Professor—”
But then Ratio lightly hit his hand with a pen.
“That’s mine.”
Aventurine blinked. Surprised. But then a chuckle escaped his lips. “Really?”
“Night sleep is important to help your body recover,” Ratio said. “You’ll have trouble sleeping if you drink coffee now.”
Aventurine scoffed rather fondly as he moved to take the cup of tea. “Okay, okay, I get it. Professor’s orders. I understand.”
Ratio gave him a look before he started writing feedback on the papers. “And eat the fruits. You’ve been eating nothing but junk food whenever I leave you.”
“I don’t know, Professor. Maybe the solution to that is to not leave me?” Aventurine joked.
While Ratio didn’t even glance at Aventurine to humor him, he saw a furrow on the professor’s forehead.
Usually, Ratio left for work at seven every morning.
So when it was 7:30 and Ratio was in the kitchen instead of getting ready to work, Aventurine couldn’t help but ask what he was doing.
“Breakfast,” Ratio answered. “I saw what you were eating while I was away. That ends now. You’re eating your broccoli, gambler.”
Aventurine ended up helping Ratio prepare breakfast despite Ratio’s attempts to tell him to wait, bringing up the fact that he could worsen his injuries.
They set the food on the table and ate together. Aventurine, however, fell silent, staring at the food in front of him for a bit too long.
“Is it not to your liking?” Ratio asked. “If you prefer we order a takeaway, we can do it for lunch—”
“No, no, it’s good! I like it!” Aventurine quickly said, almost panicking.
Ratio looked at him for a moment, unconvinced, and Aventurine wasn’t sure how to tell Ratio that this was the first time ever someone cooked food for him. So he stayed quiet, until it felt unbearable, and he decided to speak again.
“Anyway! Don’t you have class to teach today, Professor? Why are you still here? Are you slacking off?”
Aventurine grinned at Ratio’s glare.
“I informed my students that we’d have an online class today.”
“Oh? What’s with the sudden change of plan?”
Ratio paused. “...you told me not to leave you.”
“...”
Ratio must have known how unfair those words were, because he quickly took the last bite of his food and got up.
“I’ll get ready for class; please knock on my study if you need anything. Once you’re finished, put the dishes in the kitchen. I’ll wash them later. Then get some rest. Your wound should recover in a day or two. It should be okay for you to leave then.”
And just like that, Ratio was gone, leaving Aventurine alone with his mind.
Aventurine knew not to think too much about what Ratio said. Despite his harsh words, Dr. Veritas Ratio was a kinder man than most of the people Aventurine knew.
You’re hurt, Aventurine scolded himself. Of course he’s nice to you.
It was in his nature as a doctor to take care of the injured. No matter how much Aventurine enjoyed it, once he recovered, Ratio would stop doing it. No more scolding him for not eating healthy, no more changing his bandages everyday, no more taking care of him—
—no more Ratio caring for him.
Aventurine felt a sick twist in his stomach.
He didn’t know when he started enjoying it, having Ratio’s attention all the time. But hearing how Ratio chose to stay home over teaching at the university—when he knew how important it was for Ratio to teach—just because Aventurine, jokingly, asked him to not leave him… it messed with something in Aventurine’s head.
(...or maybe it was already messed up to begin with.)
That night, Ratio checked on Aventurine’s condition again and found a reopened wound.
“Huh.” Aventurine raised an eyebrow. “I wonder how that happened.”
“You sound so nonchalant for someone who has his wound reopened.”
“Hahaha. What can I say? This is not the first time I’ve been hurt. It doesn’t bother me anymore.”
Ratio paused.
“You should be bothered.” His voice was softer than what Aventurine imagined it would be. “But nevermind that. It’s probably reopened because of how you sleep. Take the bedroom starting tonight. And take off your shirt so I can fix the stitches.”
Aventurine didn’t move for a moment. Is that it? he thought. Was it his luck that made Ratio decide not to press on the elephant in the room? Or did Ratio genuinely not see anything?
When Ratio fixed the wound again, he was just as careful as always—something he didn’t have to do. After all, Aventurine didn’t mind the pain.
He felt the sick thoughts in his head once again.
Aventurine had one taste of getting taken care of very kindly, and he felt like he wanted to wrap his tongue around it—to never let go of the taste.
Seriously…
How was he supposed to go back from this?
Aventurine was sitting on the edge of Ratio’s bed. The same position as the first time he came here. He remembered how Ratio kneeled in front of him, gently and carefully fixing his wounds. Just the same as he did last night.
A question popped up in his mind: how would something broken keep a fixer nearby?
The answer was obvious: keep being broken.
Just broken enough for the fixer to have something to fix, and yet not too broken. It would have to look like there was some hope that someday it could be fixed, because if it was broken with no chance of fixing, then the fixer would give up and leave.
His fingertips hovered above the restitched wound. He smiled slightly, thinking about last night.
Veritas Ratio had always been a fixer.
Always tried to fix everything broken he could get his hands on. Things. People. One encounter with him, and he made everything better.
Meanwhile, Aventurine had always been something broken.
The bandages Ratio wrapped around his shoulder fell on the floor. Abandoned.
Aventurine let out a small laugh.
Everywhere he went, he left behind a broken part of him, whether he knew it or not. This time, it was no different. The fingers on his right hand slowly touched the stitched wound on his left shoulder, and the ones on his left hand clutched against the sheets tightly.
He took a deep breath, and his nails started to dig into the wound.
A pained hiss escaped his lips as the stitches were once again torn apart. He gritted his teeth, keeping his voice down. His eyes were shut, and he felt his body shaking as he endured the pain.
This was the pain he was familiar with.
He didn’t like this.
But it was necessary so that he could feel the different kind of pain again—the one he felt when Ratio was taking care of him. He knew he couldn’t stay forever; he knew that eventually Ratio would see that he was impossible to fix and decide to leave.
But for now—
“Gambler.”
Aventurine’s eyes snapped open.
Standing in front of him was Ratio; sharp amber eyes were directed at him. Aventurine opened his lips, trying to say something, “Ratio—”, yet the pain was almost unbearable; it stopped him from speaking.
Ratio shushed him, and maybe Aventurine was deluded after experiencing the kindness Ratio showed him, but the professor sounded gentle doing it.
He fucked up. Ratio knew. He was going to kick him out. He would see that Aventurine was just a broken thing with no hope of getting fixed, just pretending to be. When Ratio’s hand grabbed his—the one that was digging into his wound—he knew it was over. There was something stubborn in him that resisted, keeping his hand where it was, digging even deeper.
When Ratio spoke again, Aventurine was ready to be yelled at.
…and yet it never came.
Instead, he heard Ratio’s shaky voice.
“It’s okay. Come on.”
Did he hear desperation in Ratio’s voice?
…why?
He let Ratio pull his hand.
Ratio kneeled in front of him. Putting a medical kit on the floor and taking a few tools out, Aventurine could only watch as Ratio wiped the blood off his fingertips, then worked on the reopened wound on his shoulder.
Why did Ratio already have a medical kit?
Did he… know?
“Ratio—”
“I had suspicions,” Ratio said, as if he could hear Aventurine’s thoughts. “But I thought I was wrong… I wished I was wrong.”
He carefully took out the ruined stitches.
“...but I guess my luck isn’t as good as yours.”
Aventurine didn’t say anything else. He could only watch as Ratio cleaned off the wound and restitched it once again. By the time the wound was dressed, Ratio finally looked at Aventurine.
“Tell me.”
He owed Ratio that much, didn’t he?
Aventurine swallowed, “...where should I go?”
Ratio raised an eyebrow in confusion.
“What?”
“You like keeping broken things, don’t you, Ratio?” Shame filled him as he continued, “That’s why you took me in.”
“Gambler, I’m not sure I understand—”
“Once I’m fixed… once you realize I cannot be fixed, I can’t be here anymore, right? So tell me, please, where should I…”
His voice cracked, and Ratio fell silent. Eyes widened in what appeared to be a sudden realization as to what was happening inside the gambler’s mind.
So he sighed and took Aventurine’s hand.
“Stupid gambler.” Fondness was thick in his voice despite sounding frustrated. “You idiot—you’re not a thing, let alone broken. You’re a whole human being.”
“You—” Aventurine choked out. “You won’t understand. Just kick me out now. I know you want to.”
Yet he made no movement to pull his hand away.
Noticing that, Ratio asked, “But do you want to leave?”
“...”
Aventurine stared at Ratio; the answer was obvious.
“If staying is what you want, all you need to do is to ask.”
“You don’t want me here—”
“Have you ever asked?” Ratio scolded, and yet his voice was softer. “Don’t you think I would have a different opinion about you staying here?”
Gently, he squeezed Aventurine’s hand—offering a silent reassurance.
“You said… just until I recover…”
“And you just decided to never recover?”
Aventurine fell silent, and another sigh left Ratio’s lips.
“I didn’t say you should leave once you recover,” he said. “You surely underestimate how much I enjoy having you around.”
Ratio brought Aventurine’s hand closer to his lips before pressing a light kiss to his fingertips.
“Heal. Recover. Then stay as long as you want. You asked me earlier where you should go… then stay here, with me.”