Page 74 of Forge the Blade

“Sorry about that,” Yoihei said, sitting down carefully.

Rei shook his head. Yoihei had nothing to be sorry about.

He coaxed Yoihei’s chin up and forced himself to focus on light and shadow and not his brother’s familiar eyes. It helped that he was older. Eleven years older. His face was different. Filled out in the cheek bones and hollowed in the cheeks, the baby fat of his teens gone and a darker tinge to his eyes. Rei focused on that, biting the inside of his cheek as he worked. Now and then he felt Yoihei’s eyes on his face as if he were trying to pry through the mask and the glasses, but he didn’t ask questions. That wasn’t Yoihei’s way. He watched and strategized, and then when he was ready, he asked a single question or made a pointed statement. If Jun hadn’t become the leader, it would have been Yoihei.

“You have good hands,” Yoihei said as Rei started in on the last layer. He spoke in English, with an accent. Back when they’d been in BBB3 together, Yoihei hadn’t spoken any English. It helped.

Rei nodded.

“Thank you for helping today,” Yoihei added.

The inside of Rei’s cheek was going to be raw before he was through. “Welcome,” he murmured, keeping his voice light and high. It wasn’t hard with how tight his throat felt. But his hands were mostly steady.

“Who’s your favorite western artist?” Yoihei asked. His leg bounced.

Rei glanced down. Yoihei was nervous. That . . . that made sense. Yoihei liked to do things when he was stressed. Sitting for makeup was probably mild torture.

“Paige Bradley,” Rei murmured, thinking back to the name on some sculptures Sevastyan had been considering acquiring the week before. He’d liked the form on them, and the rawness. And like everything to do with Sevastyan, he’d put the name away in his memory.

“What kind of music?”

“Not music,” Rei murmured. “Statue.”

“I don’t know names for that,” Yoihei said.

“I like Enya,” Rei said, picking musical artists. “And Beethoven. And Howard Shore.”

“I know Howard Shore.” Yoihei’s leg was still bouncing but he held his head still as Rei worked around his eyes, blending in contour. “Do you have a favorite film score?”

“Ruin and Memory, the piano concerto.” Rei angled his brush, forcing himself to think of nothing else but the color and the way the powders and pastes were working into skin. “You’d like it.”

“I would?” Yoihei said.

Rei nodded. And internally froze. He couldn’t act like he knew him. “It’s good,” Rei finished lamely.

Yoihei chuckled. “I’ll look it up. I don’t usually listen to piano concertos. I listen to things like gothic symphonic. German metal. Other K-Pop artists.”

Rei nodded.

Yoihei let out a sigh. It tugged at Rei’s heart. He put his hand on Yoihei’s shoulder, steadying him as he worked. Yoihei stilled underneath the contact. Rei ignored it, leaning in, sharpening the edges of Yoihei’s eyebrow. “You’re good,” Rei murmured, lifting his hand away and reaching for the nude powder tray again. Yoihei’s skin was a tint darker than Su-jin’s. He needed to go in with a different blend. A bit more dark and daring would be better, more shadows around the eyes with sharper lash lines. Yoihei’s concept was edgier than Su-jin’s.

“You’ll do good today,” Rei said.

Yoihei chuckled. Behind them Geun switched places with Jaewoong. Jun’s voice came at the door. Rei forced his hands to stay soft and steady as he worked. They were all here, the original five.

“Your hand is shaking,” Yoihei said.

Rei took a breath. “It’s the fire,” he lied. “Sometimes I shake.” He held up his pinky finger, showing the scars on the end. “I won’t mess up your look.”

“No worries. I saw Su-jin. You did great. Take your time.”

Rei nodded and leaned in again. Jun was talking with Jaewoong about choreography and what they could safely film in the balcony versus what would have to be cut and done elsewhere. “Let’s just film as much of a full set as we can there with Su-jin,” Jun finally said. “There’s going to be so much footage. Just leave the rolls out of it. We don’t have time to check the full floor for hazards.”

Jaewoong must have answered nonverbally.

“I’ll get to you next,” Ellisandre said. “Don’t go.”

“I’ll be right back,” Jun answered.