In the far distance I see your smile
From the far distance I hear your voice
If I try to run to where you are
Will my voice ever reach you?


The white-haired man sitting on the bed let out a long, exasperated sigh. Leaning back against the stacked up pillows, once again he crossed out the short sentences he'd been scribbling on his notebook before writing the new ones underneath. But even these, too, where soon crossed out again as he kept repeating the same action for the next few minutes until he finally got tired of it. Throwing the book and pen away, he rose to his feet and slid open the glass door leading to the balcony.

It was pitch black up there beyond the night sky, but even then when he lowered his gaze, countless lights produced by the city were more than bright enough to illuminate the bottom of the sky. Resting himself against the railing, he let the cool night breeze to blow the white strands of his hair.

A sigh escaped his lips once again.

How many times had he stood here and stared at this very same scenery, not knowing why he even had the urge to do something like this to begin with. He wasn't necessarily bored, nor did he feel his heart being disturbed by any kind of unpleasant feelings. If…he had to describe it with words one way or another, he could only say it felt like the impatient feeling of longing. But at the same time he had no idea what or who he was longing for.

"…This sucks…"

Mumbling those words under his breath, he ruffled his hair so hard it turned into jumbled flocks of white. He did say it wasn't exactly an unpleasant feeling, but it wasn't a good one either. If anything, it was exhausting to keep looking for something he had no clue about.

"…If I try to run to where you are…will I ever find you…?"

Unconsciously, his slightly parted lips sang a brief song. His voice was faint and no one was there to hear him singing. But even so, he kept repeating the same words, changing the melody ever so slightly each time until he finally found a composition he felt most comfortable with. It was the first time his gold-colored eyes flickered with life after awhile, and now standing straight while still holding onto the railing, he took in a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"Faraway… Faraway… In the far distance I see your smile…
If I run to where you are, will I ever find you?
If I reach out my hand and shout, will you ever hear me?
To you whom I've yearned for so long, this heart I will give to you"


"Tsurumaru."

Walking into the studio, a brown-haired man in neat clothing headed straight for the couch where three other men were having a break. The first one was a black-haired man with his right eye covered with an eye-patch. The other was dark-skinned, seemingly a bit younger than the first one, with a marvelous tattoo of a dragon circling on his left arm. The last one, of course, was none other than the white-haired man whose name was being called just now.

"Oi, Tsurumaru," the brown-haired man called once again. He was now standing right behind the white hair, but the person whom he'd been calling didn't show any sign of response. Frowning his brows into a terribly irritated face, eventually he rolled the magazine he was holding and a dull "smack" soon echoed throughout the room.

"It hurts—! Why do you always have to hit me, Hasebe?!"

"Well, I wouldn't have to if you'd stop daydreaming and answered immediately when I called," without any hint of remorse, the man named Hasebe ignored the white hair's complain and settled on the remaining empty space on the couch.

"Now, now, Hasebe-kun, don't be angry. I'm sure Tsuru-san didn't do it on purpose," trying to reduce the tension between the two, the man wearing an eye-patch, Mitsutada, said in a soothing tone before nudging at the tattooed one sitting next to him, "Right, Kara-chan?"

"Beats me. It's not like I care," replied him coldly, shrugging his shoulders without a care. To his response, Mitsutada could only hang his head down and sighed.

"Really, you guys…" he shook his head with weary face, "Anyway, what brings you here, Hasebe-kun?"

"Doing my job as the band's manager," the brown hair replied while taking out his agenda, "Also, there's something I want to show you guys. Here…"

He put the magazine he'd just used to hit Tsurumaru on the table before them. On the very front cover were the three of them, wearing gorgeous stage wardrobe, with the logo of their band nicely strapped in the middle-bottom part of the cover.

"Rookie of the Year, One-Eyed Dragon," Mitsutada read the title aloud; a happy smile rising to his face as he turned the pages to find the main article about them, "Winning six out of ten nominations within one year of their debut, their first album sold over 500,000 copies only a month after release. Ah, they also have separate columns for our profiles."

"Heee? They put very nice pictures of us in this article," said Tsurumaru while leaning over towards his colleague. There were pictures of him singing while playing his guitar, Ookurikara with his bass and Mitsutada behind the drums. "But Ookurikara looks the same in almost every single one of them. Dude, why didn't you smile when they take your photos? You look either pissed or angry in all of these."

"…Why do you care…?" contrary to the white hair's excited tone, the bassist replied nonchalantly while averting his gaze, completely disinterested. When Tsurumaru puffed his cheeks in protest, once again it was Mitsutada who had to fix the situation.

"Now, now, both of you look very fine in here, don't worry," he said with a smile, "But this is really great! I thought this issue is supposed to be published tomorrow. How did you get this magazine, Hasebe-kun?"

"A friend of mine worked for the company that published this magazine. Since he knew I'm your manager, he gave me a copy," replied the brown-haired man. Despite his seemingly composed attitude, from the tone of his voice it was obvious that he, too, was delighted that their band made it to the front cover of such prestigious entertainment magazine. "In any case, the fact that you guys are crowned as the best rookie means we will get busier in the coming days, which is good. My original intention coming here is to brief you on your schedule next week."

"I guess you're right…" Tsurumaru leaned back to his seat, crossing his long legs, "So, what do we have, Hasebe?"

"I will start with the band's schedule first before going to your individual schedule," said Hasebe while flipping through his agenda, "Monday morning on 07:00, you will attend the pre-recording for the new talk show that I mentioned yesterday. On 13:00 will be the pre-recording of the usual weekly music show. Tuesday is fully booked with recording for your new album. On Wednesday you will have…"

The manager continued reading all the activities they would need to accomplish in the following days. It really was considerably more packed compared to the previous weeks. Particularly nearing and during the weekend, they almost had no time to rest and even if there were days where they had no appointment, it would be used to practice and prepare the recording of their new album.

"I guess the coming days would be quite…difficult, huh?" Mitsutada said with a forced smile after listening to the chains of programs, "But I'm happy that we're finally getting somewhere."

"Indeed. You guys also get the chance to show up more during prime time. Isn't that great?" replied Hasebe while putting back the agenda to his breast pocket, "We should use this opportunity to promote the making of the new album."

"Question," all of a sudden, Ookurikara who had remained silent slightly raised his hand, something that he very rarely did, "For the new album, when is the deadline to submit the new songs?"

"Considering the planned release, you have three more weeks. Though, I think there shouldn't be any problem since more than half of the songs have been submitted."

The dark-skinned man said nothing more, but the other three had known him far too well to understand that it meant he had no objection to this.

"Well then, if there are no more questions, I suppose I will not disturb your practice any longer. Excuse me," with that said, Hasebe rose to his feet and headed for the door. However, right before he truly left, the manager stopped and looked back. "Also, this might sound too far-fetched, but you guys are rising stars now. Be careful with what you do. Those paparazzi will start lurking around you in no time."

"…Well, that's the most annoying part of being famous, isn't it?" said Tsurumaru with a sneer after the brown hair was gone, "Be careful not to look too lovey-dovey in public, you two, or they might start a strange rumor."

"…Is it not allowed to just hit the paparazzi instead…?"

"No, no, Kara-chan, no! You can't hit anyone!" to Ookurikara's careless remark, Mitsutada grabbed his shoulders and shook him hard as though telling him to snap out of it. It was actually pretty obvious that the bassist wasn't being serious, but the way he said it with a straight face made others believed he might just do it for real.

And Mitsutada never failed to fall into this every single time.

"How nice…" thought Tsurumaru while looking at his two friends. Neither Mitsutada nor Ookurikara ever said it, but for some reason he already understood what kind of relationship they had. And for some reason, too, he found himself perfectly fine with the way they were. He didn't feel the need to question them, nor did he ever think of them as strange. Since the first time he met these guys, he thought it was just natural for them to be together.

"…? Is something wrong, Tsuru-san?" tilting his head in confusion, Mitsutada stared back at him. The white hair shook his head, returning the question only with a smile that the other two could only looked at each other in wonder.

"It's nothing," Tsurumaru said lightly while rising to his feet, heading to where he had put his guitar, "By the way, I came up with a song yesterday. It's not completed yet, but let me know what you think, okay?"

Fixing his position on a nearby chair, he put the black guitar on his lap and began strumming on the strings. He was only humming at first, but then the melody was soon accompanied with lyrics. It was the song he chanted at the balcony last night, and for the first time he allowed others to hear it. While remaining in their seats, both Mitsutada and Ookurikara listened quietly until the white hair finally reached his last thrum.

"…Well, how is it?" Tsurumaru looked at the other two after finishing his song. While Ookurikara's face remained difficult to read as always, the one-eyed man seemed to be in a serious thought before he finally opened his mouth to comment.

"How do I say this…?" he said, holding his chin with his fingers, "It's different from the songs you've made so far."

"Ah… Is it not good after all?"

"No, no, that's not what I meant," Mitsutada quickly shook his head with a reassuring smile, "To tell you the truth, I think it's one of the best songs you've composed since we started this band. Don't you agree, Kara-chan?"

"…We might as well use it for our comeback."

"…?! Ookurikara, you… I think that's the highest praise I've ever got from you. Are you feeling alright? No fever or anything?" the white hair stared at the bassist with his jaw dropping; his face looking as though he was at loss of words. To this reaction, however, the man in question simply averted his gaze and snorted.

"Not really. I'm just saying what I think,' replied him coldly.

"See? Even Kara-chan said it's good," Mitsutada chuckled happily, "But Tsuru-san, if you don't mind… How did you come up with that song?"

"I just did?" Tsurumaru tilted his head, "Is it really that different from my other songs?"

"Yeah, I can't really put it into words, but… Anyway, it's a very good song. I'll be happy to help out with the arrangement."

"Really? Thanks!" the white nearly jumped to his feet; his lips were drawn into a bright smile, "Then, I'll put my heart into it so I can give you the complete version as soon as possible."

With that said, he scrambled to find his notebook and it didn't take long for the main vocalist to end up in the corner of the studio, scribbling and humming to himself while occasionally strumming his guitar. Little did he know, while he was immersed in finishing his new song, his two friends were staring at him with indescribable look in their eyes.

"…Say, Kara-chan…" nudging at the other man sitting next to him, Mitsutada spoke in a low voice as not to alert the white hair who was only a few distance away from them, "Are you thinking the same thing as I do?"

"I suppose…" the bassist replied, throwing his gaze down to the floor.

"Right? I wonder if he'll ever find that person…"

"Even if he does, there's no guarantee that person will remember him, too," brushing his brown-colored hair all the way down until the dark red tips, Ookurikara let out a sigh as he leaned back to the sofa, "And even if they both remember each other, there's also no guarantee they'll end up living happily ever after just like that."

"…That just now was really harsh, you know?"

"I'm just stating the truth," to the one-eyed bitter smile, the bassist merely shrugged his shoulders, "Especially considering what Hasebe said about the paparazzi and stuffs."

"What do you mean?"

"Knowing Tsurumaru, he'll do all sorts of flashy things for that person shamelessly, not caring whether or not people are watching. He's always been that kind of person."

"Kara-chan… You're actually very thoughtful of your friends, aren't you?"

Up until this moment, the expression on Ookurikara's face had remained cold and aloof. However, the second Mitsutada told him that, he immediately clicked his tongue with an irritated face; his ears visibly turning red despite the dark complexion of his skin.

"I'm just telling you—"

"I know, I know. My bad," the one-eyed couldn't help but chuckle at how the man retorted to his remark. Nevertheless, he, too, leaned back to his seat with a sigh; his eyes following Tsurumaru's figure who was still absorbed with his guitar and notebook at the corner. "But, really… If they would actually meet, I hope everything will be okay. It'll be very sad if it turns out otherwise."

Mitsutada lowered his gaze. When Ookurikara glanced at him, he could see a bitter smile was once again drawn on his face as he muttered under his breath.

"After all… We both know Tsuru-san loves that person very much."


The day slowly began following the sun that rises not too long ago. For most people it was time to wake from their sleep, but for some others, it was already time to leave home and go to work. Nevertheless, considering the early hour, the streets were only beginning to be crowded and the air was rather humid still.

Being in the group of people who were required to already leave for work, it was natural for Tsurumaru to be rushing through the thin crowds by now. Wearing a beanie cap that hid most of his distinguished white hair, he took long strides while covering half of his face with his jacket's collar. Indeed, he would have a pre-recording to attend in an hour, but if one were to look closely, his hurry seemed exaggerated if he was merely worried about tardiness.

"Goddammit, this guy's persistent!"

Clicking his tongue in irritation, the vocalist looked back cautiously. There, walking a few meters away behind him was a man wearing casual clothing under his leather jacket and a hat. He looked like any other normal man at a glance, but not to Tsurumaru. In fact, ever since he left his apartment, he'd been struggling to lose this guy to no avail.

Obviously, because he could not mistake the small camera in that man's possession, cleverly hidden beneath his jacket.

He didn't think Hasebe's warning would happen this soon. While he had no particularly confidential agenda today, he despised having his pictures taken in secret and then published without his permission. Plus, it was creepy to have someone following him around like this, not to mention that man could have some sort of bad intentions towards him.

"…Hmm?" at that time, Tsurumaru felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. The word "Angry Manager" was written on the display when he took it out. Despite still in the middle of escape, the white hair slightly giggled before answering the call. "Yo, Hasebe. What's up?"

"Where are you now?" cutting straight to the case, Hasebe's irritated voice could be heard from the other end, "Mitsutada and Ookurikara are already here."

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that," lowering his voice as not to be overheard, Tsurumaru exhaled a long sigh, "I'm being followed."

"…Paparazzi?"

"Looks like it."

"Where are you now?" the manager repeated his question. Though, after knowing the situation he didn't sound angry anymore.

"The studio's actually just a ten minutes' walk from here, but I haven't been able to shake this guy's off," once again, Tsurumaru clicked his tongue in irritation, "I don't like this, but if this keeps up I might as well—"

He stopped all of a sudden. In front of him was a large junction and by some sort of chance, the moment he got there was the moment when the crossing light turned green. At this time, a wild idea popped up into his mind.

"Tsurumaru?"

"I think I found a way to escape," the vocalist replied with a mischievous grin now showing on his face, "I'll be there right after. At most, I will be late five minutes. Catch you later, Hasebe~"

"Oi, wai—!"

Tsurumaru cut off the call before the other man finished his words and put the phone back into his jeans pocket. In the next second, he broke into a sprint.

"I should lose him this way," he thought while blending in with the moving crowd. However, when he tried to look back, he saw the man still chasing after him that he cursed under his breath. "Shit, he's seriously persistent!"

It would be easy if it was in the middle of the day. He could just slip into one of the shops lining by the side of the street, but at this hour they weren't open yet and going into a convenience store would just turn out to be a dead end. In his desperation, Tsurumaru eventually saw a shop with its door opened not far from where he was, so without much thinking, he sped up and entered that building. It turned out to be a coffee shop.

"…?! I'm sorry, Sir. We are not open ye—"

"Let me hide in here!" ignoring the staff's surprised call, Tsurumaru ran behind the cashier's desk, "If someone comes after me, please tell them I'm not here."

It was right after he ducked under the table that he heard the sound of rapid footsteps coming into the shop, and it was also at that time he realized he hadn't told the staff, shopkeeper, or whoever it was of why he even needed to hide in the first place. It wasn't like he had the time to, but Tsurumaru couldn't stop worrying that person would expose him.

"I'm sorry, Sir. We are not open yet."

Contrary to his expectation, the staff politely said the same words to that man. Tsurumaru could hear the man describing his appearance and asking whether the staff saw him around here, but much to his surprise, once again that person said he didn't see anyone like that.

"I believe I haven't seen any person that matches your description today. I apologize I couldn't be of any help."

The man pursuing him sounded disappointed, but he left eventually. When he heard those footsteps fading away, a wave of relief rushed into his heart all at once that Tsurumaru couldn't help but inhaled a deep breath. He hadn't realized how tensed he had become while hiding under the cashier's desk.

"I guess I'm safe for now…" he thought while removing his beanie cap, brushing back his hair. But suddenly a voice called out to him that he almost jumped.

"Sir?" the staff politely called him, "That person has left, so you can come out now."

"O-Oh, I see… Yeah…" now that the tension had left, Tsurumaru realized only now how awkward the situation he had put himself in that he nearly hit his head into the desk while trying to get up, "Sorry to trouble you with that. I was…"

His voice trailed off into the distance. He didn't pay any attention to this since he was in such a hurry before, but in front of him stood a young man, wearing a long apron on top of his clothes, seemingly a waiter in this coffee shop. He had short light blue hair and a pair of golden eyes similar to his own, kindly looking at him as the young man showed a gentle, polite smile.

To this sight, all of a sudden Tsurumaru felt dizzy.

"S-Sir?! Are you alright?!"

The young man's worried voice added up to his vertigo rather than putting him at ease. He had no idea what happened. When he looked at him, Tsurumaru could feel his sight overlapping with something else.

"What… What is this…?!"

He saw the young man in front of him standing beyond the opened door that led to the street, but at the same time he thought he could see the same person standing with the view of a garden and a large pond behind him. It wasn't a strange sight at all; in fact, it felt as though he'd seen this before, a long, long time ago….

"Sir?!"

"…Eh?"

When he came to it, the young waiter was already right in front of him, shaking his shoulders. His face was worried sick and even his hands were trembling. It was only at that time Tsurumaru realized he had somehow been kneeling on the floor all this time. And if it wasn't already strange enough, both his head and sight were now clear as though the previous grogginess was mere illusion.

"A-Are you alright? S-Should I… Should I c-call an ambulance?" stuttering with his words, the young man shook his shoulders again; his face had turned pale. It took awhile for Tsurumaru to finally get a grasp of the situation.

"Ah, s-sorry for scaring you," forcing a smile as reassuring as possible, the white hair rose to his feet and lightly patted the young man's arms, "I'm alright. I just felt light-headed for a second."

"Are you… Are you sure?"

"Uhn. Probably I've been running a bit too much," he nodded, "That man chasing after me was a stalker after all. Thank you for helping me hide from him."

"I-Is that so…?" finally letting out a sigh of relief, the waiter with light blue hair smiled, "Well, I am glad that you're okay, Sir. I was afraid that it was something life-threatening."

"Thank you for your concern. I'm alright," while returning his smile, for some reason Tsurumaru could feel impatience building up in his heart. When the young man was just about to turn his back, he stopped him and grabbed his arm. "W-Wait… Can I ask your name?"

"Huh?"

"Ah, no. That's not right. I should introduce myself first," releasing his grip, the white hair made a nervous smile as he stepped back and kept on rambling, "I'm Tsurumaru Kuninaga. What is your name?"

Despite the confusion clearly written all over his face, the young man did not look at Tsurumaru with repulsion. Instead, he lightly chuckled before fixing his posture and smiled back at him.

"You are a funny person, Kuninaga-san," he said with a soft voice, "It is a pleasure to be your acquaintance. My name is Ichigo Hitofuri."