[ If Yujin found he excelled at living between the notes of life's uneven symphony, then most of Jake's life could be likened to the over-eager cymbal crashes of a middle schooler after his fourth soda. A life lived loud, spent screaming at the top of his lungs to look at me, pay attention to me, aren't you impressed? It didn't matter if those listening to him were delighted, amused, or offended by the noise -- as long as they noticed him at all, Jake could feel settled in his own skin. Like he was somebody.

It wasn't until later in life that Jake came to appreciate those rests that Yujin settled into so naturally. A noisy life was great, until you wanted to hear yourself think. Or, in Jake's case, grieve.

He glances over at Yujin, watching the man's mustache twitch from tartness in the wavering glow of firelight. It isn't long before the man was looking back at him. Or more specifically, looking him over. His own mustache quirks a little at that, following Yujin's eyes to where they lay still against his cheek.

That was another advantage about silences, wasn't it? They left room to notice the tiny invisible things in life, such as words left unspoken by a dear friend. ]

Hurt? Nah, man. [ Jake smiles ruefully, rubbing it out of habit. The skin was still swollen, tender to the touch, but the pain only came when Jake pressed on the bruise. He's still pressing it, almost academically, as he sinks down by the fire and invites Yujin to do the same. ] Don't get me wrong though, it was still pretty awesome that you decked me. Didn't know you had it in ya.

[ But that was a lie, wasn't it? Jake sighs, the mask of good humor fading to something more contemplative as he turns his attention towards the fire. When Yujin doesn't immediately sit beside him, Jake continues with glib efficiency: ] If you don't park your ass right here in two seconds, I'm gonna pick you up and tip you over like I did all-a them joojee fruits.

[ A joking threat, but certainly not an idle one. ]