They had a big party when they came home from London.
Lucifer felt on top of the world, and everyone was ecstatic. As usual, Sakuya's completely outlandish prediction that they could conquer the UK indies charts in two months had come true despite all odds; after Lawrence Howard contacted the Jupiter Records offices with a message of congratulations and an offer to produce their next three albums, the band had decided a flight home to Japan, a celebration, and a bit of a break were in order. Their time in England thus far had been rewarding, but grueling.
Right now they were in the Brown Lodge, and Santa and Atsurou were collectively making a ruckus. Santa was fairly drunk, on victory and other substances, and continuously prodding Sakuya to join him in a chorus or two of Datenshi Blue (the latter simply sat in the corner nursing his usual cup of coffee with a small, contented, very un-Sakuya-like smile, turning every now and then to chat quietly with Aine). Atsurou seemed positively hyper at the prospect of returning home crowned champion once more, and was impulsively hugging everyone at random intervals. Yuki was currently talking animatedly with the Brown Lodge's Master over their plans for international promotion, and Towa...
Towa was getting up to leave.
"Ne, Towa, where are you going?" Atsurou's head craned toward him with a surprised blink, and this was the cue for the rest of the group to glance up at him as well, having barely noticed his silence all evening. Towa was a quiet sort anyway.
"I'm rather tired." The bassist shrugged, hefting his everpresent instrument onto his shoulder. Out of all of them, Towa was the only one who never let his guitar out of his reach. "We've been so busy lately, truthfully, a sleepover really sounds like my favorite kind of party at the moment. I think I'm going to go collect Jiji and then I will be finding my bed until at least noon tomorrow," he murmured, voice quiet and typically dry.
Yuki laughed. "Now that you mention it, a sleepover does sound pretty good at the moment."
"Complete with giggling girls doing each other's makeup?" Santa chortled, downing another half a glass of whatever he was drinking.
There was a single, quiet chuckle from Towa. "Something like that. Good night, everyone."
The group bid him farewell with waves, a couple of enthusiastic shouts, and a bare nod from Sakuya. The vocalist was still wearing that smile as he silently bid Towa good night.
"Hey, um," Atsurou frowned, looking awkward, as Towa turned toward the door, "don't forget what we were talking about, okay?"
A few blond locks shifted as Towa turned to look back over his shoulder at Atsurou. The rest of the room was now giving them questioning looks.
"I remember," he assured Atsurou quietly, before walking out the door.
- - -
Oh yes, he remembered.Towa wasn't normally one to confide in other people about things, if those things didn't happen to be related to music. The only reason he had told Atsurou about his estrangement from his own parents was he had seen a familiar tragedy in the making, and wanted to spare his young bandmate some pain. But regardless, Atsurou was one of the few people in the world who could say he knew Towa's secrets, if only a couple, and ever since their dome live months ago he had begun prodding.
"So, Towa, I... wanted to ask you something."
That was how the first conversation had started--with the two of them sitting around the empty studio together, tuning their instruments and waiting for their friends to arrive so they could rehearse a new arrangement. Atsurou was looking at Towa with, as he tended to do, his heart in his eyes.
"Yes?" Towa murmured, raising an eyebrow at the red-haired youth.
"Well..." Atsurou frowned slightly, looking unsure of his welcome into this untested territory. "You said a while back, I don't know if you remember... You said that once we had a number one hit single, you were going to send a copy to your parents. I was sort of wondering... did you ever?"
Towa cocked his head slightly to one side, expression typically enigmatic.
"I decided not to."
And he looked back down nonchalantly at his bass. He'd only agreed to the idea in the first place because he'd been trying to make Atsurou feel better.
"What?" Atsurou cried, dismayed. "Well... don't you think you should? I mean... especially now! We've conquered Japan, we're getting ready to start an international career, we--we can fill up stadiums of fifty thousand people...!" He set his guitar aside, leaning toward his bandmate with an anguished expression. "Don't...you think they'd be proud?"
Towa gave him another momentary glance.
"Perhaps."
Atsurou shook his head, insistent. "Come on, Towa... It's never too late to just try. If even my parents can forgive me, surely yours..."
"I think the chord progression on this remix of ours still needs some work," Towa murmured, now giving Atsurou a single pointed look as he finished with his bass.
He rarely, if ever, had a need to blatantly change the subject just to get away from a conversation. If he just stayed silent, people were usually good enough about dropping things on their own. He felt momentarily weak for being so obvious.
But he really didn't want to talk about this.
Atsurou looked crestfallen and a little hurt, glancing toward the floor for a moment before picking up his guitar again.
"...Yeah, maybe you're right," he said in a very quiet voice. Whether he was talking about chord progressions or parents, he didn't bother to elaborate.
That incident, however, had not been the last of Atsurou's involvement in the subject. He'd kept trying to broach it with Towa throughout their stay in London, and at one point had even gotten Yuuka in on the conversation. Towa continued to quietly resist their efforts, but he had to admit to himself that he was starting to wonder if Atsurou didn't have a point. Visiting his parents... he didn't think it would really do much good, but at least it might make him feel a little better.
That was Towa's other great secret, the one Atsurou didn't know, but could probably guess without much trouble.
He was lonely.
Everyone else had lives, families, loved ones. Towa had Lucifer, he had music. He could forget for a while, lose himself in rhythm and sound and song. That was all he had.
So now he was quietly walking along the sidewalk, past the lights and the hustle and bustle of Tokyo, wondering if reminding himself of everything would make him feel less alone or more, and knowing at least that this was something he should have done a long time ago.
- - -
When he finally got home, Atsurou was waiting for him.
The red-haired guitarist was curled up next to Towa's apartment door with Jiji cradled in his arms, leaning against the wall, both of them asleep. A smile ghosted across Towa's face as he stepped past them and went to open the door.
Atsurou started awake at the jangling of keys, looking over at his bandmate with wide eyes. "Towa... there you are! I thought you said you were going home to sleep...?"
Towa pushed the door open and walked in without a word, leaving it open behind him. Atsurou followed with the half-grown puppy still clutched in his arms.
"Towa, didn't you say you were going to get Jiji...? He was still at our house when I got home, and that was pretty late, so, uh, I was kinda worried about you..." The youth glanced embarrassedly off to one side.
"Pardon me for worrying you, then." Towa shrugged off the strap of his guitar case, carefully leaning the bass against a nearby wall as he took off his coat. "I was at the graveyard."
"...Huh?" Atsurou blinked.
"You keep pestering me to visit my parents, so I finally did." Towa walked over to plop down atop a nearby seat, perching on the edge. He folded his hands in his lap as he looked over through the living room window.
"...I left them our single," he murmured. "C no Binetsu. It was in its fifth printing at the CD shop I stopped at."
Atsurou, still standing behind him, was now completely silent. Jiji let out a small, sleepy whine.
"They can't listen to it, of course. But I think perhaps they might finally understand."
He turned after a moment, to see Atsurou's face. The guitarist was staring at him with a stricken expression.
"T... Towa..." Atsurou shook his head slowly, face turning rather mortified. "I... I'm so sorry, I never knew, I--please-- It's awful of me, f-forgive me," he stammered out with a low, automatic bow, the puppy still in his arms.
Towa shook his head in response, dismissively, and he gave the boy a small, slightly pained smile.
"I... well..." Atsurou pursed his lips and walked over to set Jiji in Towa's lap. "...here. I... I think I'll go," he murmured, turning and heading back toward the open door.
"Atsurou."
He stopped with his hand on the doorknob, looking back over his shoulder at Towa. The bassist's gaze was focused contemplatively on his lap as he absently petted Jiji.
"Perhaps... you were right after all," Towa said softly. "I hadn't visited in a long time."
He turned his gaze on Atsurou again, and smiled.
"Perhaps... Perhaps they would be proud."
Atsurou slowly smiled back, eyes overbright, and after a moment he turned to leave. The latch clicked quietly, and Towa was left once more to his thoughts, his memories, and the warm brown ball of fluff curled up atop his lap.
Lucifer was going to conquer the world. His bandmates were his family now, and together they would bring their music to everyone, on every continent. There would not be a nation on the globe where the names Yuki, Towa, Atsurou, Santa, and Sakuya were not known. It didn't matter that his parents had never gotten to see. The love of the whole world, impersonal as it was, was still far bigger and brighter than the love of a single human being.
That was all he needed.
Really.
