Whenever I take sip of this same sweet tea, it often reminds me of my friend Ranmaru. Well, friend is an understatement, I believe a closer word would be lover. No, that doesn't even begin to work either. I actually highly doubt that our consummate relationship could ever be adequately described with words, especially words that some degenerate couple somewhere may have also used to describe their three hour infatuation. As a temporary solution, I'll change my previous statement from "Ranmaru is my (blank)" to "Ranmaru is mine." I think that gets the point across just as well.

If someone were to ask me to describe "mine"—I amuse myself—I would probably say...

Name: Kirino Ranmaru.

Age: Twenty-two, the same as mine, however he is a few months older than me.

He's Japanese, like me, though he was born in Europe, so he's also French. Likewise, he is fluent in French, Japanese and even English. He has a cute accent whenever he speaks any of these languages. Now a little French man didn't just suddenly stumble into Japan (though if he told me this, I wouldn't hesitate to believe him). The only reason he's here, stuck on an island kilometers away from his home is because of me.

Our meeting could be described as if one day a small bird began feverishly following me. I grew fond of it so, just for convenience, I trapped it in a cage and brought it with me. But instead of iron bars, its Japan and the body of water surrounding it. And instead of the bird becoming homesick and worrying about being torn away from its family like how you would expect, it never felt more alive, it never felt freer. It also warmed up to its new owner immediately, in fact, it swore to protect its owner with its own life.

No, I'm not saying I "own" Ranmaru, he is his own person. But he is still mine. See how that works?

Also, Ranmaru is not a bird. I haven't described his physical appearance yet so I don't blame you if you thought I was in a romantic relationship with a twenty-two year old French bird. However if I was, my family wouldn't be the least bit surprised. It wouldn't be the most eccentric thing I've ever done. If I asked, they would probably argue over whether the most eccentric thing I've ever done was kidnapping a French man or kicking over my own father's casket in a fit of rage. They would then realize I've returned home after years only to ask them such a question and kick me out.

But this isn't about me, this is about Ranmaru's physical appearance. He is sitting next to me right now in case I needed a reminder. The light of dawn was illuminating his face; I watched as he blew into his cup of diabetes to cool it off. Seriously, that cup of coffee is probably 10% coffee and 89.8% sugar. The remaining 0.2% is Ranmaru's own saliva. I don't care how much sugar you put in there, that shit's still going to taste like shit; how he can stomach that stuff every morning? He'd probably say the same thing to me about tea.

I remember when he first tried tea. Now usually when Ranmaru doesn't like a certain food, he'll eat it anyway because, to him, food is food. This moment was different. We've been in some violent battles and suffered some pretty serious wounds, however I don't think I've ever seen him in so much agony before that day. After expelling the liquid from his system, he looked up at me with a look that said "I never thought you would hurt me like this." He then said "I never thought you would hurt me like this." I would have rolled my eyes at his complete overreaction but he honestly made me feel a little guilty.

But this isn't about Ranmaru's lack of taste, this is about Ranmaru's physical appearance. I bet you've been eagerly waiting for it, nonexistent second person I use to get my thoughts in order.

I'll start from the top. Ranmaru has thin blonde hair that often smells of fruit.

And it's long.

Very long.

Sometimes he accidentally sits on it.

Tying it into two pigtails helps keep it out of the way though.

Those shiny blonde locks perfectly frame his pale face and refined facial features. While my features perfectly convey my no-nonsense attitude, his face perfectly conveys intelligence, topped off with the thin pair of glasses he wears.

His emerald eyes were rather droopy, like he could fall asleep any moment. He honestly could. But he didn't look tired; he wasn't tired. A better way to describe it: It's the look you give someone when you can see right through them and you've already figured out their little game. Except Ranmaru wore this expression constantly so it can be assumed that he sees through everyone. I can believe that, he is rather sharp.

"Do you need me to turn around, or is my profile good enough for you?"

I would actually appreciate if he didn't speak right now; it's hard enough for me keep my thoughts in order staring at his face like this.

He never got an answer; his question was rhetorical. He didn't expect one, so he went back to drinking his torture beverage.

Before he could, I took his chin and turned him towards me. His pink lips formed a smile. That wide, genuine smile combined with his droopy eyes actually formed a more sly expression.

I should also mention that Ranmaru is very attractive. This isn't just by my tastes, this is a proven fact. Those green eyes must have formed an alliance with that coy smile and those stray strands of blonde hair to remind me of that. I won't push those strands back into place though; that's what they want. That's what he wants.

Despite this, I saw my hand move from his chin to his hair, restoring the style back to its original perfection. I did it with utmost gentleness, so I was a little surprised when that smile instantly disappeared. Those droopy eyes also added emphasis to his cold-blooded stares. I sometimes found myself amazed by this, but I never let it show.

While I didn't ask why he was suddenly scowling at me, I found the answer when he looked me straight in the eye and pushed those same strands of hair back into their original position.

With attitude.

Fine. That way is perfect too.

And, somehow, I found myself in another staring contest with him. This usually happened whenever we had a petty disagreement. Neither of us wanted to admit we were wrong but the difference was Ranmaru wanted this about 20 times more than I did. I often forget how incredibly stubborn he is since he is usually so quick to agree with everything I say. However, when he didn't, he becomes no different from a brick wall. He'll be red like a brick wall too.

I was always the one to back down, it was just quicker. I also just found it tiring to stare at him this way for too long.

So I'll stare at his body instead.

It didn't help much but I'll describe it.

First, you should know that Ranmaru is tall. Not taller than me, in fact, the top of his head only reaches my nose. Whenever we hug he has no choice but to bury his face into my neck. Regardless, he's still taller than those around him, especially here in Japan where the average man is 5'7".

"I'm 5'11." He said before taking a sip of his own drink.

Thank you.

Additionally he was very thin, I dare say his body is even lanky. Strangely, the only part of his body except from this are his thighs. I believe all the cake he eats goes there. Besides that, tall. Thin. Lanky. He probably looks like the type of person you could easily snap in half, but if you actually tried you'd be sorely mistaken. He's very strong, inside and out, he just doesn't look like it.

Now that I think about it, he fits the ideal body type men say they want in women. It was a rather unrealistic expectation but somehow Ranmaru managed to achieve it, give or take a few features.

This is probably unnoticeable when he is wearing armor. But I've seen him naked, I know what I'm talking about.

He truly was a sight to behold, one that made me question certain beliefs. I always knew that when a human discarded all of their clothing, they lost every tie they had with advanced society. They became no different from an animal. Some people really were better off classified as wildlife but when they wore clothing they would at least appear human. The only exceptions were me, for my honor comes from my behavior, clothing has no effect on it, and Ranmaru, who actually inverted this belief.

While yes, when Ranmaru allowed me to discard that last piece of clothing from his delicate body he did lose his status of human in my eyes. But rather than a human returning to the animal they really were, it was akin to a divine being discarding those pesky restraints of the human world and reclaiming their true heavenly form. And despite this, he still behaved sheepishly and he would wonder why I would blush whenever he looked down at me. I was waiting for the moment when angel wings would sprout from his back, but it never came.

We did, but I digress.

The illusion only vanished when Ranmaru put his glasses back on (ironically, those were the hardest to get off of him.) and began smoking one of those long pipes only elegant people like him were allowed to use. While he no longer appeared ethereal, he was still a marvelous human being.

Thinking back, I should have told him about these thoughts. I would likely be rewarded with a breathy chuckle followed by an "I am no better than you, my lord."

And that bothered me.

How Ranmaru viewed himself. He was my lancer, my liege, my knight.

And my childhood friend, my best friend, my love.

He also might be a god.

He knew all of this and yet I would always find hints that he found himself completely expendable. Ok, sometimes they're not hints, sometimes he's blatantly stating how quickly he'll give up his life for me.

Sometimes, I think he's actively trying to. Every time I see a weapon pointed towards me, in a blink of an eye he'll deflect it. If anyone wanted to harm me they would probably literally go through him and that confident smirk first.

Maybe that's just how loyalty works for him. I know of another plucky blonde who is always stepping up to defend someone, anyone, as if he couldn't stop himself. The only difference is instead of using his own body as a shield, he used an actual shield.

If I really want answers, I should probably say all this out loud instead of keeping to myself like this.

Although, there were times when I wondered if he already knew. If he already knew everything I was thinking. He was beginning to clear away the tea and coffee cups, occasionally glancing at me with that look that made me believe he was a mind reader.

He spoke with that voice that reminded me of a morning breeze. "I'll get a shower ready."

Oh no.

I don't know if I'm ready to meet with that divine being again.

Though, my thoughts were interrupted when I heard a faint thud. I looked up and saw those droopy eyes were replaced with shocked and confused ones. He was probably wondering why his face was getting closer to the floor. I would have helped him but it was already too late, he had already crashed into the table.

And the chair.

And an expensive vase.

And the bookshelf.

And to add insult to injury, the books fell all over his face.

The next thing I heard from him was a long, lengthy groan. I think he was trying to say "Takuto" but he was way too disoriented.

And somehow, he still managed to appear graceful.