A/N: I wrote this a little while ago, and I think my characterization is still a little wonky in places? But there was too much potential for angst here, so I couldn't not write it.

Hope you enjoy!

School festivals were interesting.

Ai had, of course, never attended normal school. He'd spent time on the grounds at Saotome Academy, of course, but even then he had not had what could be called a normal class schedule for its students. Seeing a real school, therefore, was interesting.

He was a little bit disappointed that it wasn't a normal school day, in fact. It would have been more interesting to find out how actual classes were taught, instead of just seeing everyone running around excited and selling things. If he wanted to learn about how clerking worked, he could go to any store, after all, and this was supposed to be a school.

But there were many things he couldn't talk to his peers about, and this was one of them. It might have been more difficult to avoid talking about such things were it not such a fundamental part of his lessons, of his very programming—he was not to say things that gave away his past, not concretely.

(The doctor would still occasionally beg him not to use quite so many robotics metaphors in his daily speech, but Ai figured that was a lost cause. The effect on other people didn't seem to be negative, and it was, on a certain level, just the way his mind worked.)

Here and now, though, he was going to get this project right this time, with Ranmaru and Tokiya's indulgent looks or without them. Once he started something, it was difficult to accept anything less than work of the highest quality, and his karumeyaki was clearly subpar.

"Ai-chan-senpai!" Natsuki's voice was easy enough to hear, even if Ai hadn't been more or less attuned to it. Natsuki did get lost pretty often, after all.

This time, though, he was fairly sure he hadn't lost him. "Natsuki," he said, frowning as he turned. "I thought you'd partnered up with Reiji for today."

"I did!" Natsuki said, looking guilty. "But I can't find him!"

"You can't..." Ai sighed, and raised his hand to his forehead. He turned more fully, taking his ladle off the burner and setting it aside. "You're saying you got lost? This school is not that big, Natsuki. Were the two of you with anyone else when you got separated?"

"No!" Natsuki said. "And I think he's the one who's lost this time, Ai-chan-senpai, really! We went into the haunted house, and by the time I left I couldn't find him anywhere!"

"Hmm," Ai said, hand on his chin. "Are you saying that you think he might still be inside?"

"I think so," Natsuki said. "And the people at the front were so nice, but they told me that I shouldn't go back to look for him! I'm not sure what to do."

Ai frowned. "What was the inside of the haunted house like?"

Natsuki clasped his hands under his chin, eyes sparkling, immediately distracted. "Oh, it was wonderful! There were so many cute monsters to make friends with! I wanted to find all of them, and I think I did a pretty good job in there! It took a while, and there was a lot to see—I think that's how I lost track of Rei-chan-senpai."

"I...see." Yes, Ai was starting to get a pretty clear picture. "In that case..." He turned to Ranmaru and Tokiya. "If you'll excuse me, I think someone needs to go collect Reiji. I'll see you later."

Ranmaru grunted, still focused on crunching through his (beautifully symmetrical) karumeyaki and trying, Ai suspected, not to look vaguely dissatisfied. Tokiya looked a little wry, but nodded. "We'll see you later, Mikaze-senpai."

"At the live, if nothing else," Ai agreed, and followed Natsuki back down the hallway.

The scene at the front of the house confirmed his suspicions. It was hard to miss the student outside the haunted house, makeup still on his face and holding himself at an angle that hinted at bruised ribs. He managed to duck out of the way before Natsuki saw him, peeking his head around the corner to hiss something at his classmate. Ai resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Yes, it was clear that Natsuki had made his presence known here.

Natsuki was as oblivious as always, however, to the effect he tended to have on people. "I've brought my senpai to look for my friend," he explained to the girl at the desk. Ai wasn't always good with strangers' expressions, but she looked a little uncomfortable to be talking with him. "Is it all right if he goes in to look?"

"He can join the line," the girl said, and turned to the docent at the exit to the house. "You said we might be missing someone?"

"Our count was thrown off a little earlier," the student answered, looking awkward, "but we don't know of anyone that's come in but hasn't gone out yet."

"You'd think they'd remember Rei-chan-senpai," Natsuki said, concerned. "He's so handsome, and he makes friends with everyone!"

"I think they might have been a bit preoccupied when he went through, Natsuki," Ai said patiently.

Natsuki's expression was entirely innocent when he said, "Oh? Why's that?"

Ai sighed and ignored him. "Thank you," he said instead, to the girl at the desk. "Natsuki, please wait for us at the exit. And try to stay out of trouble."

"Of course!" Natsuki said. "Have a good time!"

"I'm sure it will be an interesting experience," Ai said diplomatically, aware of the students responsible for this attraction right in front of him. In reality, he didn't think there was all that much interesting about young people using masks and low light to try to scare one another, but he would get to observe the fruits of their efforts, and besides, he wasn't going in to have fun in the first place.

Inside the redecorated classroom—that's what it looked like, anyway—it was dark, and there were many twisting hallways, but it wasn't anything Ai's sensors or his spatial processing couldn't handle. There were only so many places Reiji could hide, he decided as he raised an eyebrow at a sheet-covered figure who was attempting to loom up towards him. It paused at his stare, then shrank back with a mumbled apology.

"I'm just here to find my friend," Ai said to the room at large. "Please, don't trouble yourselves on my account."

He went on.

The problem with schools, Reiji thought as he hid under a countertop, was that they could be so stuffy.

Not the students—these ones were fresh-faced and lively, enough that it took a surprising amount of his usually ample energy reserves to match their levels of enthusiasm. No, the building itself—where it wasn't scrubbed down, in neglected corners like this one, there were years' worth of accumulated dirt from outside, dust, and cobwebs that had been shoved into a corner rather than cleaned out properly.

He wasn't entirely sure there wasn't some in his hair, for crying out loud. Idols—especially on duty—were not supposed to be dusty.

And yet, he wasn't quite ready to leave just yet, either.

It was silly, he knew. The "ghosts" were far from the most convincing of performers—Nacchan's reaction of wanting to hug them was about as rational as being scared of them, really. But Reiji had always been the sort of person who adapted to the atmosphere well. It was a performer's instinct—when people wanted him to be startled or frightened, it was hard not to respond to that energy, at least on the surface.

But it had started to get out of hand—the hairs standing on the back of his neck less of a show than he wanted them to be, starting to feel genuinely frightened, and then irritated about being frightened, and Natsuki hadn't shown any signs of letting up at all. So the second time he was startled badly enough to almost lose his footing, he'd taken advantage of the moment of fright and bolted. He'd stumbled along a bit, almost colliding with another disguised student trying to scare him, and eventually he'd found a hiding place where there wasn't anyone on duty.

It had been the matter of a moment to slip behind the false wall, heart pounding, and curl himself up here, under a countertop in a corner where he wouldn't be easily found. He had a good view of the hallway near his hiding place, too, so it would be difficult for anyone to sneak up on him with no warning.

Now he was just breathing, trying to calm himself down. It was a silly thing to do, running away like that, and while it had felt a bit like fun at first, he was starting to feel more than a little ridiculous.

While it was nice not to have to pretend he wasn't flustered, and he needed a moment to breathe, he kind of wished he wasn't alone, too. Nacchan was one thing, but if he'd been with even one other person who'd been at least a little bit unenthusiastic about going, then he would have been able to latch on to that energy—make fun of it, probably, till they'd all managed to get through somehow.

Instead, here he was, hiding, hoping that nobody had noticed yet that he was hiding, because that was something else idols weren't supposed to do.

The trick, he mused, was going to be getting out of this bind gracefully.

There was a set of footsteps down a cardboard hallway a few feet away, and he shrank back into his hiding place, thankful for the shadows. It only made things harder, he thought ruefully, that he didn't yet feel ready to leave.

It was...hard. This was a normal school rather than one for idols, but seeing all these young people running around with hardly a care in the world really took Reiji back. He felt so distant from them, and yet...every time a young, smiling face turned the corner, or a pair of sparkling eyes aimed themselves up (or, often enough, down) at him, he remembered being that young himself—what it felt like to be surrounded by peers and upperclassmen, rather than most of the people he worked with on a daily basis being younger than him.

Those little moments of remembering how things had been, before...Reiji sighed and stared up at the dim ceiling, peeking out from under the edge of the countertop. It was hard. It was easier when nothing reminded him of the way things had been—of the way he'd been, all those years ago. He'd lived long enough to put some distance between him and that time, and the break from showbiz had been a kind of barrier, setting a boundary that he didn't often have to cross, even in memory.

This was impinging on that barrier, and if he was being honest with himself, he didn't like it. At all.

He sighed, resting his head on his knees. There was no one to see him here. He couldn't exactly act anything less than his best in front of an audience, whether it was one of excited students or his own team members. They each relied on him in their own way, even if they would have vehemently denied it—expected him to act a certain way, to respond to their antics with his own. He didn't intend to let any of them down. Not like he'd let happen when he was younger…

He shook his head to himself. There was no point in allowing the memories to pull him in any further. But if he was going to keep that promise to himself, that meant that pretty soon he was going to have to come out of hiding.

He was mentally preparing himself to crawl out of his corner and duck back into the hallway when another set of footfalls made him pause, an irrational chill cascading down his spine.

They were from someone tall. He could tell by the size of the shoe soles he could just see under the false hallway, the length of time between steps. They were graceful, too, though, almost thoughtful, and something about them put Reiji immediately on his guard.

It wasn't Natsuki. Natsuki's feet were bigger, and he didn't have the same cautious tread. But Reiji got the sudden, absurd feeling that he knew those steps.

His heart rose in his throat as they slowed and stopped, not too far from where a partly concealed rent in the cardboard led directly to his hiding place.

He bit his lip to keep breathing through his nose, and realized, suddenly, how vulnerable he felt down here, how silly. He didn't particularly feel like being laughed at, if he was found.

So silently, carefully, he crawled out of his hiding place at last, feeling around to make sure he didn't bump into anything, and stood. One hand, on automatic, went to his hair, to brush out any possible cobwebs.

It was harder to tell from his new angle, but the feet stopped in the hallway still seemed to be there. Reiji swallowed, heart pounding. Canned atmospheric sounds rang through the halls, suddenly catching his attention—howling wind, the moans of the damned. The figure in the hallway was waiting too long.

What if—but no, he couldn't let himself think it. Couldn't begin to accept the possibility.

Only now that he was trying not to, he couldn't stop thinking it—

The curtain hiding the rent in the cardboard stirred. A single finger parted it, lifting it slowly to the side. A sliver of light from the hallway, dim, flashed silvery-blue on a long lock of hair.

Reiji froze, refusing to think—

Shaggy blue hair falling down the face of the figure who stepped towards him. A pale face, a judgmental gaze.

There were a few different responses to fear, Reiji knew. Flight was common, one he was familiar with. Freezing, too, or apologizing. But he had nowhere to run, no way to apologize to the specter in front of him that would have had any chance of working.

Reiji hadn't expected the anger.

It seared through him like a lightning bolt—his shame, the unlikeliness of this moment, the unfairness of what had come back to haunt him, his knowledge that anything this vengeful spirit asked, he would feel obligated to give.

Reiji didn't want to know what he wanted, what he thought. He'd left, He was gone, and Reiji refused to accept the idea that this would be how they'd meet again.

His fist lashed out, without his conscious thought or permission, and struck Aine across the face—

—except Aine only bent backwards slightly, head barely turning, and there was a loud crack that didn't sound quite like hitting flesh or like hitting a ghost, and Reiji found that his hand hurt quite a bit.

Reality returned to Reiji in a flash as his hand fell from Ai's face, as Ai stared him down, eyes wide.

"Rei...ji?" Something in his voice faltered, something that wasn't like a ghost at all.

"Ai...ai...?" He was breathing hard enough that it was difficult to get out the nickname, almost gasping. "It's...just you, huh...?"

Ai appeared to take a breath, raising one hand to his face and feeling at the skin there. His expression was impassive as always, but his voice faltered when he spoke. "Are you...all right?"

"Ah, yes." Reiji tried for a laugh, to shrug off the moment, but the sound came out breathy and desperate. "Y-you startled me! Are you all right, Ai-ai?"

"...I'm fine." Ai's responses were coming quicker now, gaze turning assessing as he looked Reiji up and down. "Your heart rate is elevated and you're covered in dust. You were scared?"

The flippant edge was returning to his voice, and Reiji couldn't help laughing in relief. "Ahahaaa, well, I'm afraid the haunted house was just too good! I got...er, separated...from Natsuki, and it all got a bit into my head, I guess."

Ai gave him a familiar look. "That much is obvious." He held out one hand. "Are you ready to go?"

Unexpectedly, Reiji's throat tightened. Something about seeing Ai like this, one hand outstretched, looking at Reiji with a patience uncharacteristic enough that it might or might be a cover for concern...

...Reiji was fairly sure it wasn't just his imagination, when sometimes he looked at Ai and saw a ghost.

But that wasn't Ai's fault, and he'd hurt him enough already today. So he shook himself off and neatly sidestepped the proffered hand, slinging a hand around Ai's shoulders instead. He felt Ai's twitch of annoyance all through his torso, and everything was normal again.

"Yep! With Ai-ai by my side protecting me from the ghosts, there's nothing to fear!" He pointed a dramatic arm out in front of them. "Let's gooo!"

Ai's exasperated sigh was his only answer, as they navigated the opening in the cardboard and Ai dragged Reiji towards the exit.

Reiji, for his part, kept his eyes near his feet, subtly ignoring the scenery around them. Once or twice, he thought he caught Ai turning to glare at something, and it must have worked, because he didn't notice a single spirit or monster interacting with them on their way out.

When they finally got to the exit, Ai nodded to the student there, and Reiji sent them an apologetic glance.

"Where did Natsuki get to..." Ai said, sounding exasperated, and then paused, looking down the hallway. "Oh, there he is. It looks like he hasn't gotten lost yet, for once." He looked over to Reiji. "Do you want to switch partners? Last I saw, Tokiya and Ranmaru were around the honeycomb toffee booth on the second floor."

"Ah, maybe I will," Reiji said, taking the out. He didn't particularly want to face Natsuki at the moment.

"Good. Don't get lost again," Ai added, folding his arms and giving Reiji a stern look. "The live starts in forty-six minutes, and we're expected to be backstage in twenty-one."

"I will, I will! Don't worry."

Ai raised an eyebrow at him. Absently, one hand drifted up to prod at his cheek, and Reiji thought he detected the hint of a pout.

He closed in briefly, checking to see if he'd left a mark. "I am sorry about that, Ai-ai. Does it hurt? Do you need ice or something?"

"No, better not," Ai said. His face stretched into an unnatural smile that didn't reach his eyes before relaxing. "I still have a full range of motion. If there's any damage it shouldn't affect my performance. Unless there's a mark?"

"No," Reiji admitted, "no mark."

"Good. I'll look into the rest later."

"You do that." He wanted to check further, but was positive Ai wouldn't welcome the intrusion. After all, even if he had damaged Ai, he wouldn't know the first thing to do about making it better.

"I should...get going," he said finally. "Before Nacchan sees me."

"Yeah. Bye." And Ai walked off, and that was that.

Reiji stared after him for a moment and sighed before heading in the opposite direction.

He wished he knew how to make it up to him—to either of them—but he had the terrible feeling it might already be too late.