Coping Mechanisms

 

Akira ran ahead to unlock their room, knowing the phoenixes would want to be away from public spaces before saying more. He’d met Suuzu’s older brother during the two visits that the Farroost clan had allowed him to their island colony. A tropical paradise of birds and beaches.

There, Juuyu had always worn the flowing clothes common to the phoenix clan—draping layers, loose pantaloons, sunset hues. Today’s only concession to his heritage was a silken shirt, obviously of Amaranthine crafting. The cloth was as dark as Juuyu’s western-style suit, but when he moved, it glowed like embers, fire buried in a black opal.

“This is us.” Akira fumbled a little with the key, then pushed the door wide, stepping aside. “Welcome.”

Suuzu hurried in, but his older brother firmly steered Akira through next. “Allow me.” Juuyu shut and locked the door, then silently set about adding sigils.

Akira emptied his pockets. Suuzu tidied everything away. Akira plunked down in the middle of the floor. Suuzu hesitated, as if torn between who he wanted closer, then joined Akira to wait.

Their room wasn’t exactly furnished. All Amaranthine students had been allowed to specify their particular needs and preferences, and Suuzu needed space to transform at night. Akira didn’t miss the bunk beds that came standard in most dormitories. He and Suuzu had barely used theirs at their last school. The phoenix preferred building a nest atop futons each evening, then folding away their bedding in the morning. 

Suuzu kept fidgeting, so Akira casually messed up his own hair. His roommate’s exasperated glance turned sheepish. Akira just grinned and tilted his head forward, inviting him to preen. That sort of thing usually calmed Suuzu down.

Phoenixes disliked clutter, so their room echoed slightly with the drastic minimalism of their belongings. They had a fold-away table to use for either snacks or studying, but that was currently stored in their futon cupboard. A low bookcase just inside the door held textbooks, student ID, spare change, and Akira’s phone charger.

Few needs and fewer wants.

Akira had come to appreciate a life unburdened by extraneous stuff. Just as he’d learned what mattered most to Suuzu, because a phoenix’s needs might be simple … but desperate. Air and light, a view of the sky and the ready means to reach it. Privacy, safety, orderliness, and stability. And closeness, but only in the presence of mutual trust.

He’d often wondered why the Farroost clan had sent Suuzu away from home. This whole ambassador thing didn’t really seem to suit anyone from their colony. Yet Suuzu endured it. As did Juuyu, who worked for some unmentionable section of the In-between.

Akira suspected that Juuyu was an international spy. He certainly looked the part.

In their speaking form—as in their truest form—the brothers bore a strong family resemblance. But where Suuzu kept his hair short, Juuyu’s riot of black curls was somewhat contained by a series of golden hoops descending to the base of his spine. The hooked nose was the same, but Juuyu’s managed to be much more imposing. Unlike most Amaranthine Akira had met—and that included every one of the Five—this one actually felt dangerous. He couldn’t have explained why. Juuyu just seemed capable of anything.

Juuyu finally turned to study them.

“You came,” murmured Suuzu.

“You are mine. Of course I came. Are you well?”

“Well enough.”

“Hmm.” Juuyu’s gaze swung to Akira. “How is he faring?”

Leaning supportively into his best friend’s side, he said, “Pretty much what you’d expect.”

With a grumbling huff, Juuyu sank to the floor. “While I appreciate your commitment to your duty, I would rather you showed me more than your brave face. Our circumstances are similar, brother mine.”

“Are you homesick, too?” asked Akira.

“Not as such.” Juuyu hunched his shoulders, then relaxed them with a purposeful shake, as if settling his feathers. “My superiors are well aware of my instinctual idiosyncrasies; indeed, they have reason to appreciate my sensitivity to minutia. So I have learned to cope with … necessary disarray.”

Suuzu shuffled forward on his knees. “How?”

Juuyu inclined his head. “Routines that can be maintained no matter where I may find myself.”

“Like … a morning jog? Or always packing your own pillow?” asked Akira.

The phoenix’s lips twitched. “In my line of work, those are not always convenient, but that is the general idea.”

“Okay, but what kinds of routines?” Akira pressed. “Can you be more specific?”

“By necessity, they are small things.” Juuyu riffled through his pockets and withdrew an old-fashioned pocket watch, a slim packet of pistachios, two clemantines, and a green glass bottle with a stopper. “I keep the basics of a nest about my person.”

Akira tapped the timepiece. “I thought Amaranthine didn’t use clocks.”

“A concession.” Juuyu loosened his necktie and undid a few buttons. “I have always worked closely with humans, and I confess to appreciating the precision offered by clockwork. Punctuality has become something of a hobby.”

“Wouldn’t a phone be handier?” asked Akira.

“I prefer to leave such things to my partner. But here, Suuzu. This has become my nest.” From around his neck, Juuyu unknotted a fine braided cord to which several items had been secured.

Suuzu scooted so close, his knees touched Juuyu’s. Akira crowded in, saying, “That’s almost like the sort of things wolves wear.”

“One of my teammates came from the packs. He helped.”

“May we?” Suuzu asked plaintively, ready to snatch back his hands.

Juuyu’s low trill was almost like a purr. “That is our purpose, brother mine. Am I not your mentor in such things?”

Akira was about to ask for his own sake, but realized Suuzu actually had.

Soft as down, Juuyu added, “You would not be inside my wards if I did not trust you, Akira.”

They explored the phoenix’s necklace, and Suuzu finally ventured, “How does it work?”

Juuyu’s lips took a wry twist. “This may seem little more than a flight of fancy, but I cannot deny that it calms the part of me that craves a nest.”

“I get it. I think,” said Akira. “These must be reminders of what’s most important to you. Will you tell us what they mean?”

Juuyu began with a wooden bead, its milky blue paint showing signs of wear, as if it had been rubbed. “This is my piece of the sky.” Touching the next item along the strand, he quietly said, “And this is for the star under which I was born.”

Sharp facets glittered amidst the mooring strands.

“It’s heavy.” Akira held the stone up so it caught what remained of the daylight coming from above. He traded a glance with Suuzu before adding, “It sort of looks like a diamond.”

“Naturally. And this is a pearl, to represent the tides that were once my only timepiece.” Juuyu quietly admitted, “I have found that I miss the sound of the sea.”

“Yes,” breathed Suuzu. “Are these from Letik’s tree?”

Juuyu hummed an affirmative and showed them how to open what looked like an ornamental test tube. “He refreshes the petals whenever I visit.”

Suuzu sniffed, and an expression of wonder crossed his face. “Home.”

The fragrance had faded, but Akira recognized it right away. Both times he’d visited the Farroost colony, they’d slept in a kind of treehouse, high among the limbs of a massive tree that always seemed to be in bloom, no matter what the time of year.

A series of five crystals, each a different hue, glinted in their knotted settings. Akira couldn’t tell if the items had any power anchored to them. He’d been tested more than once—and by the best—but it was no use. Akira didn’t have a reaver’s ability to detect stuff like that.

“These are tuned?” Suuzu asked.

“To the members of my team. They are a little like a flock.” Juuyu’s fingertip grazed the one with a greenish cast. “This one is for my partner.”

His younger brother leaned forward. “You have a nestmate?”

Juuyu tweaked the end of Suuzu’s nose. “Not so dear, but just as trusted. When our instincts interfere with our work, we help each other. As I will help you.”

“With something like this?” Suuzu reverently returned the necklace to his brother.

“It may be some time before you need to rely on something so tenuous. I must go where I am sent with very little warning … and with no idea of how long I might remain. But you are here, and this room will do very well.” Juuyu tucked away his necklace and buttoned his shirt. “I only have tonight, but in the deep of winter, the night is long.”

He was staying over? Akira was glad for Suuzu’s sake. Although his best friend had more siblings than Akira could keep track of, he was obviously closest to Juuyu. An admired brother who was somehow also a mentor. Maybe because they had both left the island and worked closely with humans? More to the point, Akira asked, “You can help Suuzu?”

“I will do what can be done.” Juuyu rose and paced the perimeter of the room. “I will do what Suuzu cannot do for himself—establish a nest.”

“Why can’t you…?” Akira asked.

His best friend didn’t meet his gaze.

“Youth. The elders have given Suuzu an adult’s status and responsibilities, and my brother has exceeded every expectation. But that which was given cannot replace that which grows.” Juuyu came to crouch before them. Cupping Suuzu’s face, he took a gentler tone. “You have not been sleeping, brother mine. Tonight, you two will be the chicks in my nest.”