So...I'm finally trying my hand at that music AU. No guarantees how it'll work out. However, I hope to continue this until the very end of its run/the ideas stop coming into my head and would love some feedback from you guys. Thank you in advance!

Color filled the darkness beneath his eyelids, the notes washing over him in waves of melody and setting him adrift through the sea of sound. The beat thumped pleasant through his ears and down throughout his body. He was lost to the world around him. Senses blurred by the rhythm of the music, he sank further and further into its depths. Then it all ended with the abruptness of a touch. His eyes flew open in surprise, deep blues blinking, then flicking upwards at the figure standing above him. His frown was visible beneath the still waters of his bath as his gaze narrowed and centered on the culprit.

"Good morning, Haru-chan."

A hand stretched towards him, fingers inviting and matching the gentle look in the green eyes that stared down at him with a smile. Warm and welcoming and patient. The only thing that Haruka hated about them were the fact that they always made him so compliant. Blowing a few bubbles up to the surface of the water before plucking the earphones from his ears, he stood up, drops trailing down along his body and dripping sporadically from the tips of his raven hair. His body was bare except for the swim trunks that fit snugly from his hips to down just a bit past his knees.

"Eh? Haru-you took a bath in your swimsuit again?"

"It doesn't matter," he replied as he walked past. "You're gonna be late."

"I should say the same about you."

He could feel the eyes on him as he passed, spotting the slacked jaw in the corner of his peripheral vision and continuing to stride onwards regardless. Makoto was too kind to him; he would wait. Sure enough, as Haruka began to fire up the mini-grill to make some food for breakfast, the other male came up beside him and leaned against the counter as he waited.

"I can't believe you're cooking at a time like this. We need to go. And-why didn't you put on some clothes first?"

"It's easier to cook in my swimsuit. That and I didn't want to get oil on it, so I put on an apron."

"Not to say it doesn't look good on you, but..." Makoto's lips turned down a bit further as a sigh left his lips and his eyebrows threatened to knit together. Then his eyes fell on what Haru was actually cooking. "Mackerel...?"

"Problem?"

"Not a one."

It took Haruka longer than Makoto had wanted for him to get ready. Yet the other man refrained from complaining, just as always, especially since they could still walk at a leisurely pace to the studio.

"Why do you always come to get me in the morning?" He glanced at the other out of the corner of his eye as he spoke, hands curled lazily around the strap of his bag.

"Because I'm the one who got you this job and if you don't show up, I'll get in trouble." Makoto looked at him as well, although instead of an expression of anger, there was a good-natured grin across his lips and playfulness swimming in his green eyes. "Just kidding. But you did miss yesterday, which was supposed to be your first for the new recording. I bet you don't even know what room you're in, do you?"

Silence.

Makoto laughed. "You'll be working with my group on the new single that's supposed to be released next month, actually. Brings back a few memories. It's going to be..." The words began to float away as the notes from the melody earlier regained its hold over Haruka's attention. He didn't want to think about the technicalities, the techniques, the effort it took to produce what people would call a hit single. All he wanted to do was sing. If only they could just hurry up and get this done, then he could go back home and sing like he wanted. Only the change in Makoto's subject was able to slice through his train of thought.

"You're probably just thinking of singing, aren't you?"

Haruka said nothing and simply turned to his head to the side, basically confirming Makoto's suspicions.

By the time they reached Iwatobi Music, the paved streets and sidewalks in front of it were packed with traffic consisting of composers, editors, and musicians all trying to make their proper appointments on time. A sigh came from beside Haruka, and he knew this was partially his fault, yet he didn't say a word. Instead they just wormed their way through the crowd of people clogging up the entrance, took a few moments to catch their breath, then rushed to the meeting room where the other members and helpers already were. Makoto apologized. Haruka remained silent.

The groundwork for the background check was done and so that day they were going to focus on recording the vocals for the band that Makoto sang for. Haruka would work mostly behind the scenes, using his natural affinity for pitch and tone to adjust, and the occasionally sing a backup part if one of the other members wasn't feeling up to it. It wasn't much, but Haru needed the work and it was as close as he could get to singing without having to be in the limelight. He was on his way to being normal; he couldn't wait for that day to come.

On top of all this, they announced that Makoto's band would be performing at a promo concert including several other musicians looking to climb further up the ladder of fame. Haruka saw the polite shaking of the singer's head a mile a way, predicted the softness of his voice, and the waver of his laughter. He himself merely nodded when spoken to or gave nonchalant answers to show that he understood.

The only thing that managed to pull him out of the slump was hearing Makoto's voice feeding in through the speakers, loud and strong and pure and passionate. Every time he heard it his eyes had to shut just to take it all in, soak in the way his voice ground against the back of his throat when he dove into the lyrics and the smoothness of his voice when he sang with sincerity. Lately, it seemed like it was the only thing that could bring him to life. Which was why he always pushed for using the least amount of editing possible. Sure, make the instruments a little louder and clearer, but leave his voice alone. Ridiculous.

He blinked himself back into attention as the session ended, looking up just in time to spot Makoto lifting off the green pair of headphones he always used and to receive the gentle smile he sent in his direction. His cheeks had the sense enough to darken with a shade of pin. His shoulders hunched up a bit more and fingers curled against folded arms as he glanced off to the side. The guy was covered in sweat; he'd sung to hard again. 10 minute break.

"So, how'd it sound?" Haru lowered his arms then, flipping off the equipment that the others had left for him to finish off just because he was still considered a rookie.

"The same as always."

Makoto hung his head. "That's not very encouraging, Haru-chan."

"Quit with the '-chan' already."

"You always say that."

I always mean it, too. Haru's eyes remained half-open as always, seemingly apathetic to everything around him, verging on the edge of annoyance. "You should hurry and get something to eat. I have a feeling that these people won't be happy if you try to sing on either an empty stomach, or come in with food in your mouth." Instead of the expected nod and compliance, Haru found an arm wrapping around the back of his waist and tugging him closer with lips against his hair and a smiling voice tickling at his ear.

"As you wish."

Haruka's eyes widened slightly as it happened, and remained that way even as Makoto retreated, strolling and stretching his arms upwards and he went off in search of food and probably water. He'd always been sort of touchy and affectionate, and Haru had gotten used to that, but sometimes the gestures still made his heart beat fast and made him care about the world just a little bit more.

How troublesome.

With a sigh, he brought himself back and checked his phone for nothing in particular. As he did so, he went to lean on one of the desks, but the sound of crinkling paper beneath his hand caught his attention. He glanced down and picked it up; scheduling for the promo concert. The line-up was there, too. He wasn't sure why he let himself look through the list. Even as he did it, something told him that it was a bad idea. He spotted an old friend, Nagisa, printed on there with the DJ name he'd adopted for himself several years back. From there there were a bunch of names that he hardly recognized or had only heard in passing. Then, at the bottom of the list, a name struck him so hard that he thought he'd been punched in the stomach.

Not a person's name, no, but a band name-one that sent recognition and painful nostalgia through his form. His eyes narrowed slightly and his lips tightened into a grimace. It seemed like they would be meeting sooner rather than later. Damn.

"Haru!"

The instant he heard his name, he tossed the paper back down onto the desk and resumed his lazy posture as if nothing had happened. He blinked at the man running back to him with not one lunch set, but two. Typical.

"You didn't have to do that, you know."

"Yes, but I knew you were hungry, too." The other smiled and Haru tried not to smile back. "Now then, shall we eat.?"

This wasn't a hard thing to do. All he had to do was push it to the back of his mind and confront it when the time came, just like he did with anything else. If he felt anything, it should've been anticipation for another showdown, and that was all.

SharkDen. Bring it on.

"...Yeah."