Rin Bonus Story: The Point Is... (male Rin)

Well, that could’ve gone better.

I’m waiting with Rin in a narrow alley that dead ends where two buildings meet, both of us dressed in the sandy brown colors of the bricks that make up most of this district, the better to blend in with the terrain. We’re waiting to meet someone, but that doesn’t mean that someone is waiting to meet us.

And I’m pretty sure we’re underprepared for whatever’s coming next, thanks to me. I fidget as we wait, trying to shake loose the guilt from my mind, the thought that I should’ve done better. Sometimes it amazes me how well Rin does that – to look at him now, you’d think everything was going according to plan. I pick at my nails, looking out to the street again.

“Stop that.”

“Hm?” I ask distractedly, then blink in surprise as he takes my chin and gently turns it, until I’m looking directly into his silver eyes.

“Stop… what?” I can feel my cheeks flushing.

“You’re focused on the wrong things,” he says, leaning back against the wall of the building beside him. He drops his hand as he does, the soothing feeling of his touch disappearing.

“And how would you know that?” I ask skeptically. I hadn’t said anything of the sort. But his eyes flicker from my face to my stance and back again and he replies,

“You’re easy to read.”

“I’m not sure about that. Den agents all get at least basic training in diplomacy,” I raise an eyebrow.

“People aren’t that hard to figure out,” he shrugs. “You’re worried about whether you handled that merchant the right way. But it’s over. We have a new problem – focus on that.”

“I…” I hesitate, tempted to keep up my pretense. “I just think maybe we should go back. He might’ve had information we missed out on, because I messed up.”

“Alright,” he sighs and stares back out at the street we’re supposed to be watching. “Let’s say we go. What then?”

“I don’t know,” I admit after a long moment. “But there has to be something, right?”

“No,” he replies simply. “There doesn’t.”

“That’s awfully pessimistic,” my nose wrinkles.

“Not necessarily,” he says, his tone more thoughtful than usual. “Not always.”

“Enlighten me, then.”

“Things are what they are,” he says. “Move forward. You might miss something good if you don’t. And good things are precious hard to come by.” He turns his head to look at me. It’s a perfectly normal conversation, a perfectly normal look. But as soon as I meet his gaze something shifts in his expression.

“What?” I ask curiously. “Is there something on my face?”

He blinks, his eyes snapping away for a split second before the corner of his mouth lifts in a characteristic smirk. “If there was, would you let me kiss it off you?”

“You’re ridiculous,” I roll my eyes.

“Yeah,” he agrees easily. “Probably.”

“Probably?” I repeat, confused. “Really? No witty retort? No sarcasm?”

“Why kick you when you’re down?” he shrugs, his eyes solidly back on the street again. “The point’s to make you feel better, not worse.”

I don’t know why that fills my chest with so much warmth. “I guess you have a point,” I say after a moment. “About not worrying, I mean. Thanks.”

“Not worth mentioning,” he replies, crossing his arms. “Now focus. I’m not taking the blame for you if our target gets away.”