Acting Like Armageddon

by Queen Tzahra

"Acting is energy. In the theater, people pay to see energy." It's Fuuma's fourth summer directing at Babylon Theatre Company, a prestigious collective in Upstate New York, away from the dirt and distraction and anxiety of the city. However, you dirt on people you work with, new relationships distract and uncovering feelings is anxiety provoking.

8. Chapter 8

Happy Thursday, everyone! Also I hope you had a lovely Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur if you celebrated and that you're eating delicious moon cakes for Mid Autumn Festival today if you're celebrating! Also it's officially spooky season (although if you're like me spooky season never really ends) so yay for that, but also yay for this chapter!

Seriously, I actually mean it this time.

I'm really proud of this chapter, but I also just really like it. It's fast and it goes up and down (and all around!) and there's just generally a lot of stuff going on. Gratuitous references to other pieces of media I love, meta in-jokes, ratchet house parties and awkward dinner parties (which are always my favorite scenes in novels), emotional and sexual tension finally snapping, older women giving advice to help talk you down from the ledge and of course the most depressing threesome in the world.

I hope you enjoy it too! Ha ha ha... ha.

Anything else? Nah, not really. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I'm making no money off of this!

---

"The thirst for powerful sensations takes the upper hand both over fear and over compassion for the grief of others."

- Anton Chekhov

"Off to more shmooz hell?" Fuuma asked, playfully, rolling over into his side in bed. Seishiro kept his back to him as he selected a tie and looped it around his neck.

"Brunch," he replied, coldly, without turning around, and Fuuma's playfulness evaporated to be replaced by a flood of frustration. Over the course of the week, Seishiro had withdrawn and become even stiffer and less communicative than usual, so that by the time Fuuma came home from rehearsal the night before, he barely said anything. Aside from a snarky comment about the porch screens still not being fixed. Despite his increasing frustration, Fuuma hadn't said anything, because Seishiro was just like that sometimes and being up here for an extended period didn't help and asking him directly what was wrong was a waste of time anyway. However, it was unusual that cigarettes and orgasms didn't soften him up at all, and though Fuuma usually would have just left him to his own devices, with the last day of tech and a dinner party looming ahead of him, he wanted them to be at least somewhat on the same page.

"I'll pick you up here before we go to Yuuto and Kanoe hell?" Fuuma offered. Seishiro finally turned to face him, and though his mouth twitched promisingly, when he spoke he sounded rather menacing.

"That makes the most sense." He made to turn away again, but Fuuma caught him by the wrist, brought his hand to his lips and kissed it. Seishiro tilted his head to the side.

"I'll see you later then," Fuuma said, quietly. Seishiro nodded and left the room. Fuuma waited until he heard his car pull out of the driveway before getting out of bed.

He strode down the carpeted hallway, dark and gloomy as always despite the sunlight pouring in through all the bedroom windows. He found himself in a little square of light just outside the door of Setsuka's room, and paused to look inside. It was as tidy and organized as the rest of the house, but… Fuuma shivered. He wasn't sure if it was the lack of circulation, the extra thick dust or the weird energy that seemed to permeate the room, but the air seemed denser, heavier. As he stared about and smelled the dust, he wondered, actually wondered rather than thought about it in some disconnected, abstract way, how Setsuka would feel about his work.

It had come up among board and company members, naturally, and though he'd heard "Setsuka would have adored this!" and "oh this is like our most famous Macbeth!" and "you're like the second coming of that director!" so many times, he wasn't sure if it was true or if he believed it or even if he cared. However, there were times when Seishiro had brought it up, when he was coming down and too far gone and delirious to really know what he was saying. Then Fuuma listened. "My mother would have loved you. Maybe if she'd met you she wouldn't have been so disappointed in me!" Fuuma still had no idea what to make of that, especially when he didn't know if Seishiro were talking about him as a director or as a lover. Not that his director self and his lover self were that different, but he still trusted Seishiro knew the difference.

Another shiver ran down Fuuma's spine, but he shook himself and headed into the bathroom. His brain shifted gears abruptly and he remembered meeting other people's parents in highschool. Every parent, whether they'd known him ten years or ten seconds, seemed to have reservations about him spending time with their child, until he was polite and made a joke at his own expense. "I can sit still now. Sort of," was his favorite. However, he doubted someone like Setsuka would relax and laugh indulgently like those parents had. From what he knew about her, she would have seen right through it. Indeed, she probably would have seen through all those people.

Fuuma undressed and stepped into the shower, his mind changing lanes. He didn't speak to anyone from the world he'd escaped anymore and no one had tried to follow him. However, he was curious from time to time if anyone knew what he did and, if so, what they said about it. Not that he actually cared, but it was interesting to imagine his old schoolmates all grown up, married to each other and having the same conversations at the same cocktail parties their parents had, filling roles as their previous occupants became unable. Sometimes he thought Seishiro would have done better in that scripted, conventional world, but no, not when someone like Setsuka was your mother.

Fuuma finished his shower, got dressed and picked up coffee in town on the way to rehearsal rather than make it himself. It was clear immediately upon his arrival that it was the last day of tech. Everyone, including himself, was distracted and, for better or worse, rehearsal flew by because of it.

"Are we gonna do curtain call stuff today?" asked Nataku, after Subaru delivered his ending line and the theater went black for the last time. He'd been far less surly since Seishiro had stopped coming to rehearsals, though he'd still stuck closer to Fuuma than was strictly necessary.

"Nah, it seems like everyone's got places to be tonight," Fuuma muttered, running his fingers through his hair.

"Hm," muttered Nataku.

The lights came back on, revealing the cast looking at Fuuma expectantly. He got to his feet and hitched a satisfied smile back onto his face. "How's everybody feeling? Good?"

"That's rather a loaded question," Yuuto replied.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," said Fuuma, hanging his head. "You've all done fucking fantastic though, seriously, I really appreciate it." His cast smiled tight smiles, and Fuuma wondered if they believed him. He wouldn't have. "Do I still sound sarcastic when expressing positivity?" was another of his favorite self-deprecating comments. 'Whatever, at least I mean it when I say it,' he thought, which really ought to be enough. "Anyway, go blow off steam and enjoy your day off tomorrow, all right?"

"All right!" Keiichi exclaimed, punching the air and causing an outpouring of giggles. Fuuma felt another rush of affection coupled with an intense desire to be out of the theater immediately.

"Yeah yeah, get the fuck out of here." There were more giggles and chatter as everyone scrambled backstage to get out of costume. Fuuma seized his bag and dug out his cellphone to text Seishiro.

"Getting ready for your dinner party?" Nataku asked, delicately.

"Getting ready? I've been ready," Fuuma replied, throwing his bag over his shoulder. "You wanna come? There's always room."

"We all know that's true," Nataku muttered, coldly, and Fuuma snorted. "But in all seriousness, I'd rather-"

"I know, I know," Fuuma assured him, pacifingly. "I'd never subject you to that, I value our relationship too much." Nataku rolled his eyes, but said nothing, clutching his script and pens to his chest as they set off together. "Do you have any plans for tonight?"

"I was thinking of going to the prop warehouse and doing more inventory. I've got this whole backlog of work and it's driving me crazy." Fuuma stopped dead in his tracks, and Nataku continued a few paces before realizing it. He did an incredulous about face, and Fuuma's heart swelled as he saw distinctly Nataku as a kid, wide eyed in fearful challenge. "What?" he asked, shifting the folders in his arms. Fuuma's smile widened.

"If the Board let you take over all the behind the scenes stuff and gave you all the control and decision making power you deserve, this place would be inway better shape." Nataku narrowed his eyes and two vertical grooves appeared between his eyebrows from the uncharacteristic expressiveness of the gesture. "I'm serious," Fuuma persisted, closing the gap between them. "They could do that, or just let you take Seishiro's place." Nataku's frown lines deepened. "Anyone who's worked with you knows you're the best stage manager you could ask for. They'd fucking do well to keep you around." Nataku said nothing, but again Fuuma saw him as a kid, trying not to look too pleased with himself. "Unless you wanna come with me when I leave, that is." Something tightened in Nataku's expression, freezing any pleasure or excitement. "For real though," Fuuma continued, taken aback, but,

"I'll see you Tuesday." Nataku did another about face and left the lobby, the door swinging shut behind him with a clatter.

'Weird,' Fuuma thought, watching him through the glass. 'Whatever, not my problem.'

---

"So what time is all of this getting started?" asked Sorata, back in the dressing room.

"I dunno, in a few hours," Kamui replied, breezily, playfully throwing punches at Kusanagi, who caught them lazily in his right palm. "You can come if you want," he added to him, but Kusanagi laughed and shook his head.

"I'm conserving all my party energy for all the events around opening night."

"Yeah I feel that," replied Kamui, though he knew a pang in his chest for Yuzuriha.

"I wish I could go," Yuuto called from across the room.

"You'd rather come to some ratchet house party than your nice dinner?" Keiichi asked, politely incredulous.

"You know what, sometimes a ratchet house party is just what you need," Yuuto replied. Underneath his dignified tone, however, was an intense smugness at his plans for later on that evening. It had been a long time since he and Kanoe had had a third. Plus it was Satsuki, who was especially fun in these situations: her intense passion and desire under her cold exterior was always such a delicious surprise, and she knew how to make his toes curl… Yuuto swallowed and banished the thoughts to the back of his mind. Satsuki was fun, but that had been a lapse. It wouldn't happen again. She could be their third, though, that was allowed.

"Well don't make other plans next time!" Keiichi reproached, and Yuuto turned away to hide his flush.

"I won't!"

---

"Do you wanna get dinner before this party, Arashi?" Yuzuriha asked as she did up her shorts.

"Yes please," replied Arashi, with a small smile. The two of them had spent the last few nights hanging out away from their dorm, either in town or at the other dorm with Hokuto, Karen and Kakyo. At first it had simply been a means of avoiding Sorata (not that he'd bothered her; they'd remained entirely civil to each other and he hadn't pushed her one way or the other) but she'd come to really appreciate Yuzuriha's company.

"Cool. Karen, you want in?"

"That's sweet of you!" Yuzuriha rolled her eyes.

"Don't act like it's charity!" Karen laughed and waved the words aside.

"I know, I know. Sure, I'd love to."

"Yay! Kanoe I'd invite you too, but I figure you have to go set up for your party?"

"You figured correctly, honey, but I appreciate that," she replied, smiling at her.

"Next time then!" cried Yuzuriha, clapping her hands together. She then seized Karen and Arashi by the elbows and dragged them back outside.

---

Despite telling himself that Nataku had some issue that wasn't his problem, Fuuma found himself reliving their conversation his entire drive home. What had made him turn so cold so quickly? And why? Fuuma didn't get it, which bothered him far more than Nataku being upset. Usually when Fuuma did something to piss Nataku off, he would tell him so explicitly. Fuuma's music changed, shifting to a loud opening note from an electric guitar. He turned up the volume. First Seishiro, then Nataku. What was wrong with today?

Fuuma sped up, winding through the mountains and carefully avoiding people on racing bikes in lurid spandex outfits. 'Whatever, maybe they'll both chill out with some time off,' he thought, as the song swelled to its chorus. You're poison running though my veins, you're poison… I don't wanna break these chains…

Fuuma snorted, and a short time later he pulled into the driveway, trying and failing to get his wits about him. He'd expected to see Seishiro on the porch or in the kitchen, but both were empty. He shivered. "Seishiro?" No answer. He kicked off his shoes, the tile cool under his bare feet. "Honey, I'm home!" he tried next. Still no answer. His annoyance at both Seishiro and Nataku began to itch more insistently. "Where are you?" Fuuma muttered, tramping through the living room and catching sight of the photo of Setsuka and Seishiro on the mantelpiece. He stomped up the stairs, and was about to call out again when he got to the top, but paused. The bedroom door was ajar, and Seishiro's bored voice was issuing from it, clearly in the middle of a phone call. "And I'm a fucking dipshit," Fuuma sighed, impatiently, stomping down the hall.

Seishiro was at the desk where he'd set up his laptop, his cellphone pressed to his ear and a look of distracted contempt on his face. He gave Fuuma a limp wave over his shoulder, and Fuuma smiled affectionately and flopped backwards onto the bed. He closed his eyes and stretched, yawning with his entire body. It felt so good to lie down, but it seemed that as his body relaxed his mind sped up, releasing a slew of thoughts and images he couldn't even begin to make sense of. He saw clearly his altercation with Nataku, Kusanagi's frustration, whatever the fuck was going on with Arashi and Sorata, Karen and Keiichi's back and forth, Kakyo and Hokuto ignoring feelings and Subaru and Kamui doing the exact adorable opposite, Satsuki's anger towards him and Yuuto and Kanoe…

"Yes, let me know when it's done. All right, thank you. Goodbye." Fuuma opened his eyes blearily, his brain feeling like a wrung sponge, and patted the bed beside him, his hand feeling rather heavy. Seishiro put his phone back on the desk and closed his eyes for a moment as though gathering resolve. "We don't have time," he sighed. Fuuma snorted.

"To what, relax for ten minutes?" Seishiro rolled his eyes and Fuuma tilted his head to the side. "Today suck?" he offered. Seishiro just stared back impassively, still not moving, and Fuuma knew a stab of impatience. "You wanna go shower?" he offered instead. A moment's silence passed.

"You go," Seishiro said. Another pause, but Fuuma didn't have the energy or time to argue. He heaved himself off the bed and planted a kiss on the top of Seishiro's head before heading back down that hall.

---

Kamui carefully removed the large metal bowl from the fridge and stared into it with an intensity that suggested he could prevent the contents from spilling by sheer force of will.

"Dude, relax, it's not that serious," said Sorata, grinning over his slice of pizza.

"I'll let you tell Yuzuriha you spilled it, then," Kamui replied in sarcastic cheerfulness. He set the bowl on the counter and peeled back the plastic wrap covering it. A powerful smell of alcohol and citrus filled the room and Kamui smiled in satisfaction.

"Holy shit," Sorata said, in wonderment, coming over to investigate. "What's even in that?"

"I can't tell you," Kamui answered, regretfully but seriously. "Yuzuriha's rule is you can't know until you've had some." Sorata snorted, but contented himself with taking another bite of the less than satisfying pizza.

"I miss dollar pizza," he said, ruefully, swallowing.

"God, me too," Kamui agreed, setting up stacks of solo cups next to the punch bowl. "And places being open late."

"And not needing a car."

"Yeah. It was sort of cool being up here at first but now it's like the last two weeks of summer camp."

"Yo for real," replied Sorata.

"And I fucking hated summer camp." Sorata burst out laughing and accidentally swallowed his bite of pizza the wrong way. "Yo, be easy!" Kamui cried, grinning and thumping him on the back.

"I didn't realize this was going to be that type of party," Keiichi exclaimed as he descended the stairs. Sorata straightened up, his eyes streaming.

"The fuck kind of parties you go to?!" he choked. Kamui snorted and took a slice of pizza for himself while Keiichi waggled his eyebrows before following suit.

"Keiichi's on some next shit," Kamui said, sagely. However, Keiichi nodded earnestly.

"It's true! All in the name of inspiration though. Have you read Sandman?" There was a sudden loud knocking on the front door and Kamui rushed off to let Subaru, Hokuto and Kakyo in.

"No, what is that?" Sorata asked. Keiichi's eyes widened.

"Oh it's this comic, it's so good! I can tell you more later, but there's this waitress character and everyone's like, 'oh wow you're so friendly and talkative, you must really love your job!' but inside she holds everyone in total contempt and is like, 'hardly, I'm just observing and gathering material for all the novels I plan to write.' I feel like that a lot."

"Right…"

"And in her story, she'll make him happy!" said Hokuto, grinning. Keiichi beamed at her.

"I should have known you'd like that series!"

"Naturally, Subaru and I cosplayed Death and Dream to New York ComicCon way too many times," said Hokuto, placing the six packs and bottles of liquor she'd brought onto the counter.

"You would," Kamui cried, throwing an arm around Subaru's waist and pulling him close.

"Yeah, fits us better than Sokka and Katara," Subaru replied, wearily, though he was clearly pleased.

"What about Lelouch and Nunnally?" countered Keiichi.

"Suzaku was always my boy," replied Subaru composedly.

"You would," said Kamui again. "I dressed up as Lelouch once for Halloween though, people say we look alike." Subaru gazed at him critically for a moment.

"I could see it."

"So this is a comic?" Kakyo asked Hokuto, quietly, under the cover of the other conversation.

"Yes! But that line, 'and in her story, she'll make him happy,' Camellia used to say that all the time," Hokuto explained, before adding, cuttingly, "which is hilarious given how Yoru ended."

"That ending wasn't unhappy," Keiichi interjected, fairly. Subaru and Hokuto exchanged a look while Sorata and Kamui watched Keiichi interestedly. "No no, hear me out! The protagonist has already been through so much, right? But he keeps going, keeps looking for something to hope for. Personally I think that's brave."

"Bravery, delusion, it can be a fine line," Subaru said, and everyone laughed, even Keiichi.

"See that's totally fair too!"

"Mm, did Fuuma say anything about that?" Subaru asked Hokuto, who just shrugged.

"I'm sure he did and I just can't remember. Honestly though it was probably just," she put on her best imitation of Fuuma's most enigmatic tone, "people will see what they wanna see." Everyone burst into gales of laughter, stopping only when Yuzuriha, Arashi and Karen arrived.

"You guys didn't start without us, right?" Yuzuriha demanded, her hands on her hips as she glared suspiciously into the room. Kamui held up the arm that wasn't still wrapped around Subaru in mock surrender.

"I made sure!"

"Good, I'd hope so!" She pulled Arashi and Karen up to the punch bowl. "Now remember, the first rule of punch is-"

"Don't talk about punch?" Sorata offered.

"You're better than that," Yuzuriha snorted, filling up a solo cup and thrusting it at him. He took it with a smile, but his eyes narrowed when he saw it was only half full.

"That's all I get?"

"Sorata can take a lot," Kamui muttered.

"Because you would know," he shot back, grinning, and Kamui stuck out his tongue and helped Yuzuriha serve everyone else punch.

"I didn't know it was that type of party," Keiichi said again, amid more laughter.

"To that point!" Yuzuriha said. "The number one most important rule of punch: DON'T CHUG IT!"

"I'm having flashbacks to cast parties ten years ago," Karen said, dryly, accepting a cup from Kamui.

"I'm so sorry," he said, but she just laughed.

"Oh please, I'm thrilled to be here rather than the only single person at a dinner party." Kamui looked horrified at the very idea and returned to Subaru's side at once.

"You mean Yuuto and Kanoe's party?" Kakyo asked under his breath.

"Mmhmm."

"Rigt…" Yuzuriha and Kamui raised their cups.

"To being done with tech!" Yuzuriha cried. "Opening night cannot come fast enough!" Their castmates cheered.

"No one's gonna touch that?" Kamui asked, grinning. "All right then, let's get drunk!" Everyone took hearty swigs of their punch, then cried out in horror and outrage.

"Holy shit that goes down hard!" Sorata gasped, staring almost fearfully at his solo cup.

"Just like you like it, right?" Kamui asked, grinning.

"Because you would know!" Sorata shot back, shoving him playfully.

"It's definitely that type of party," muttered Keiichi.

---

"Hey, long time no see!" Yuuto exclaimed, clasping hands with Mr. Aoki over his threshold. "How are you?" He kissed Mrs. Aoki on the cheek before stepping aside to let them both in.

"Very well, thank you!" Mr. Aoki replied, smiling widely.

"Kanoe's just about done cooking, if you'd like drinks?" Mrs. Aoki held up two wine bottles wrapped in gauzy fabric.

"We couldn't decide between red and white, so we brought both."

"Oh my god you're the best!" Yuuto cried, opening his arms graciously. "Come in, come in!" He took the bottles from her and led them into the kitchen, where Kanoe was standing sentinel by the oven, eyes narrowed at the meat and vegetables sizzling within. However, she looked around when her husband and guests entered the room.

"Hello!" she exclaimed, kissing both Aokis on the cheek. "How are you? Good to see you!"

"You as well," Mrs. Aoki replied as Yuuto set the bottles of wine on the counter.

"Ooh and now I'm really happy to see you!" Kanoe laughed. "Honey do you want to take the salad into the dining room while I pour drinks?"

"Certainly!" Yuuto kissed Kanoe on the lips, picked up the large wooden salad bowl from the counter and carried it into the dining room.

"Shouldn't we wait for Fuuma and Seishiro?" Mr. Aoki asked, but Kanoe just rolled her eyes and unwrapped the bottles of wine.

"They should have been here on time. What does Fuuma say ad nauseum? That's their problem?" A loud burst of Yuuto's laughter echoed from the other room while Mr. and Mrs. Aoki chuckled appreciatively. "Oh, riesling?"

"It's from The Finger Lakes," said Mr. Aoki. "I've never had it before but I assumed it was a safe bet."

"We get it, keep it East Coast," his wife added, placing an affectionate hand on his lower back.

"And a syrah!" Kanoe exclaimed, unwrapping the other bottle. "You have excellent taste."

"Here's hoping," Mrs. Aoki replied. From the dining room, soft jazz music began to play and Yuuto reappeared in the doorway. As he watched his gorgeous wife pour their guests wine in their newly renovated kitchen full of the delicious smell of dinner with supplies for their second engagement waiting upstairs, he couldn't help but feel pleased with himself.

---

"Oh shit we probably should have brought wine or something, right?" Fuuma asked, steering the car carefully around a winding road overlooking the lush green valley below. The rosey gold of the sunset seemed to catch every leaf on every tree, illuminating the entire view beautifully. "Bad guests!"

"You're bringing me, aren't you? That's enough to keep them satisfied," said Seishiro dispassionately from the passenger's seat. He'd perked up a bit on the drive over, probably just to prepare for an evening of being social, but was still surly.

"True," replied Fuuma, "when you get sick of it just say so and we'll be out," he added on a more serious note.

"That's sweet of you." Fuuma flashed Seishiro a brief, winning smile before turning left onto the even smaller road that led up to Yuuto and Kanoe's house. He wondered what the rest of his cast was up to, if the party Kamui and Yuzuriha had been discussing incessantly was already underway. He couldn't help but feel a little jealous; that party would be way more fun, not to mention way easier to navigate. This party would be like those he got dragged to by his parents, except he couldn't abscond with a bottle of liquor and hide out with the other people his age. Eyeing Seishiro's profile on the edge of his vision, Fuuma imagined him in that position. Would he have done the same thing or just gone off by himself? There was no way he'd just stand around and let himself get interrogated by the adults.

A sudden rush of solidarity seemed to flow between them, and Fuuma took his hand off the gearshift to give Seishiro's thigh a quick squeeze before slowly guiding the car into Yuuto and Kanoe's driveway. He hadn't been here since last year, for In Your Silience's cast party even though celebrating was the last thing he'd felt like doing. He shut off the engine and faced Seishiro. "Ready?" Seishiro just rolled his eyes and unbuckled his seatbelt. However, before he could go anywhere, Fuuma caught him by the chin and kissed him on the lips. Seishiro kept his eyes closed for an extra second after Fuuma pulled away, and he smiled, more solidarity flooding the millimeter of space between them. "Let's go," he breathed, and they got out of the car and proceeded up to the front door. Seishiro stuck close to Fuuma, but put on a brave face as he rapped on the door. Laughter approached from within as though carried on high heels.

"Hello!" Kanoe exclaimed, pulling the door open and gazing thrilled at the pair of them.

"What's up?" Fuuma asked, kissing her on the cheek.

"I just finished tech and I'm ready to kill my director," she replied, shaking Seishiro's hand.

"Who, Fuuma Monou? Yeah fuck that guy," Fuuma replied. Kanoe rolled her eyes at Seishiro, who just smiled a tight smile.

"Come in, Mr. and Mrs. Aoki brought this really nice wine and dinner's nearly ready. Would you like red or white?"

"Red," said Seishiro, doing his utmost to sound pleasant.

"White," Fuuma said, placing his hand on Seishiro's lower back and following Kanoe into the kitchen where everyone had congregated. Yuuto exclaimed at the sight of them and clasped hands with them both.

"It's been ages! How are you?"

"The night is young, there's no need to be this drunk yet," Fuuma scolded, playfully, before addressing Mr. Aoki while Yuuto pulled a face of mock outrage. "Now you I actually haven't seen in a minute, how the hell are you?" They shook hands.

"Great! Working from home and spending time with my daughter, what could be better?" Fuuma smiled appreciatively. "This is my wife," he added, gently nudging her forward, and she smiled and shook Fuuma's hand too.

"Nice to finally meet you," he told her, kissing her on the cheek. "I know I missed you at that last party, I'm sorry." He could feel Seishiro's eyes on the back of his neck.

"I was very disappointed," Mrs. Aoki replied, sarcastically, and Fuuma snorted with laughter and immediate solidarity before getting them off the subject.

"These are new," he said, nodding at the countertops.

"They are! We had them installed in the winter," Yuuto said, proudly.

"Kusanagi did it," interjected Kanoe, handing Fuuma and Seishiro glasses of wine of which they immediately took grateful sips. "Kusanagi did a lot of construction at Setsuka's house too, right? You know how good a job he does."

"His father did," Seishiro replied. "Before he got sick, that is."

"Didn't I hear something about dinner almost being ready?" Fuuma asked, loudly, and Kanoe rolled her eyes.

"Yes yes, all of you get out of my way." Yuuto laughed heartily and led his guests into the living room.

---

"I'm tapping out," said Subaru, setting his half full cup of punch on the kitchen counter, his face glowing.

"Ha ha! No pressure!" Yuzuriha assured him. Music suddenly blared from the living room. "Oh I love this song!" she cried, downing the rest of her own punch and refilling her cup.

"I got you!" Kamui called to her as he reentered the room.

"You two are so sweet," said Subaru, grinning affectionately. Both of them stuck out their tongues, then dissolved into laughter.

"I get why you call this Death Punch," Sorata said, giving his own cup a look of grudging respect. "Because it tastes like literal death-" Everyone in the vicinity snorted and Yuzuriha and Kamui high fived. Sorata grinned, and actually caught Arashi's eye across the room. She smiled over the rim of her solo cup, and he couldn't help but feel pleased. "Yeah, but why Bad Decision Punch?"

"That's not self-explanatory?" Hokuto asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, that's a fair question!" piped up Keiichi, and all eyes were suddenly upon him. "It seems possible, if not likely, that you'll make more bad decisions while drinking it, but it could be that drinking it in and of itself is a bad decision!"

"Always with the philosophy," laughed Karen, while Kakyo asked, under his breath,

"Don't those come to the same thing?" He'd been genuinely curious, but she burst out laughing and clapped him hard on the shoulder. The punch had kindled a warm, confident fire in his belly, and the gesture stoked it. He repeated the question to the room at large.

"They could both be true!" Yuzuriha conceded over the laughter.

"Why, surely you've never done anything crazy just because of punch!" Keiichi exclaimed in mock disbelief.

"Never!" Yuzuriha cried, clutching her chest with her solo cup free hand, but then added, confidentially, "Kamui though, that's another story."

"Ooh!"

"Oh word? It's like that?" Kamui demanded, though he'd clearly been expecting it.

"Isn't it always?"

"I hate you, Yuzuriha."

"Why, what did you do?" Subaru asked at once.

"Goddamn it," sighed Kamui. "Which story am I telling?"

"Literally anything from our junior year of college," replied Yuzuriha, after a moment's thought. Kamui toasted her, then finished his drink with a resigned grin.

"So junior year was fucking crazy for a whole bunch of reasons," Kamui began. "In like, March, me and Yuzuriha got invited to our friends Akira and Utako's housewarming party, so we're like, great! Let's blow off steam and see friends and have an awesome ratchet night!"

"How do you make a housewarming party ratchet?" demanded Hokuto.

"Listen, any party can be ratchet," Kamui said, his grin widening under his buzz and his audience. "Anyway, Yuzuriha and I made punch for the party, but we also were pregamming with it on the train ride over, because our friends are smart and bought a place at the ass end of Rockaway and fuck the A train."

"Seriously," muttered everyone who had ever lived in New York.

"Yeah so we're already pretty nice when we get there, but it was awesome because we got to see a whole bunch of people we hadn't seen in mad long-"

"Kentaro and Takeshi!" exclaimed Yuzuriha, clapping her hands together.

"Exactly! Friends from freshman year. We all used to live in the same dorm but then they got a place together and abandoned us like assholes. But yeah we see them, they're also already drunk, and Kentaro's immediately like, 'you guys wanna do shots?!' so of course we had to say yes-"

"Oh of course!" Karen exclaimed, laughing.

"Peer pressure's brutal, what can I say?" Kamui replied, shrugging.

"Just say no, kids!" added Keiichi.

"Exactly! Don't be like me. Anyway, we take shots with them then go and be social, eat some food because Akira's an amazing cook-"

"He made edibles too," Yuzuriha reminded him.

"Yeah but only you and Kentaro partook, I was not trying to get that fucked up!" Everyone laughed. "So them two went into space, Takeshi and I were chilling with Akira and Utako, but then fucking Nokoru-"

"Fucking Nokoru!" Sorata agreed among fresh gales of laughter.

"Do you know him?" Arashi asked by accident, spurred on by the punch and the energy. Sorata's heart leapt.

"Nah, but we all have that friend we talk about in that tone, right?"

"Right," Arashi replied, though she had no idea what exactly he meant. However, it didn't bother her at all at the moment.

"Dude, you already know!" Kamui said, grinning at Sorata. "So Nokoru comes up to us like, 'you guys wanna play beer pong?' Fuck yeah we wanna play beer pong! So I team up with Yuzuriha because she's fucking pro. Now this is where things get interesting."

"Oh, now is when things get interesting," laughed Subaru, stepping behind Kamui to get a beer from the fridge.

"Yeah, just wait! So Nokoru ends up getting the entire party into a legit, organized ass tournament because that's the type of shit he does, and me and Yuzuriha fucking dusted the prelims!" He paused so they could brofist each other. "Our heckling is on point."

"Hell yeah it is!"

"So you two aren't actually good, just obnoxiously distracting?" Sorata asked.

"Like Kakyo said, it comes to the same thing!" Kamui shot back, flashing Kakyo a smile and making him blush. "Kentaro and Takeshi gave us a run for our money in the semi-finals, though, I will say that."

"Oh my god I forgot about that!" Yuzuriha cried, running her fingers through her hair.

"We're down to like, two cups each, it's fucking serious," Kamui said, dropping his tone, and everyone moved in closer to listen. "Yuzuriha's lining up her shot, and Kentaro and Takeshi are doing the usual, 'don't fuck up!' 'careful careful!' whatever else, but of course Yuzuriha's ignoring it and they realize it's not working." He paused to take a sip of his drink and to build dramatic tension. "So out of nowhere, Kentaro just grabs Takeshi and they just start making out."

"OH SHIT!"

"HA HA!"

"That's amazing!"

"Is that an unusual occurrence?" Hokuto asked, giggling.

"Uh, not really, given that they'd been together since our freshman year, but Takeshi like, never does PDA so that was pretty shocking! Then of course Yuzuriha's thirsty ass was just there like," Kamui pulled a face, his eyes wide and glassy and mouth hanging open at a strange angle. Yuzuriha cuffed him on the back of the head while their castmates roared with laughter. "Ow! Don't be mad at me because it worked, damn!" Kamui cried, indignantly, rubbing the back of his head before adding, reminiscently, "completely fucked up her shot."

"Yeah, whatever, we still won!" Yuzuriha snapped. "Then we had to take on Nokoru and our friend Suoh."

"Did they make out too?" Keiichi asked.

"Nah," Kamui replied, grinning. "But Nokoru's conniving ass was like," he put on a sarcastically conspiratorial voice, "let's raise the stakes!"

"Oh god," said Subaru, resignedly. Kamui just grinned.

"Yeah, so instead of beer pong we started playing punch pong."

"You guys are stupid," Sorata declared.

"Stupid or living life?" Kamui countered, gesturing dramatically.

"Stupid," Arashi said, emphatically, and she and Sorata exchanged a smile while everyone else laughed.

"Either way! We started playing punch pong, and it was fucking serious, like every single person at the party was watching and cheering us on, so of course we start hardcore fucking with each other, like it was just straight belligerent." He gave Yuzuriha a wide smile to ask her permission to continue, and she stared back at him for a full ten seconds before sighing and nodding to the inevitable. "So it's down to the wire, they have two cups, we have one, and it's Nokoru's turn. He's lining up his shot and Yuzuriha's like, 'hey look!' and just pulls up her shirt and flashes him."

"Yuzuriha!" Karen and Hokuto cried out, dissolving into fits of hysterical laughter.

"Did it work?!" Keiichi asked.

"Of course!" Yuzuriha replied, grinning. "But I think it was shock more than anything!"

"What was it he said?" asked Kamui, and Yuzuriha covered her eyes dramatically and arched her back.

"Even with your consent, I can't!"

"Aww!"

"Yeah Nokoru's great," Kamui said, approvingly. "Suoh and I just kept our eyes averted, but then Nokoru missed his shot, and I gotta give him credit, it was close, but it didn't matter because Yuzuriha and I got our last two shots and it was dope."

"Congratulations!" several people cried, and Yuzuriha and Kamui bowed.

"Is there more?" asked Hokuto, grinning. "I thought this was about you doing crazy shit on punch!"

"Oh there's more!" Kamui assured her. "At that point Nokoru turned off all the lights and put on music and we started dancing. I remember, like…" He squinted and waved his hand vaguely in front of him. "Some of that, but I know it was awesome because the next day I found all these videos of it on my phone that I don't remember taking."

"Well done," Subaru snorted.

"Hey, at least I didn't spin out or get sick! But then the next thing I remember it was like… four in the morning, so hours later, and I was getting into Kentaro's car, and Takeshi was in the fetal position in the back seat and Yuzuriha was there taking care of him. Kentaro had sobered up so he was okay to drive us, but he can still be terrifying behind the wheel when he wants to be."

"God, seriously," muttered Yuzuriha.

"Yeah, so mind you, we're balls deep in Rockaway by the ocean, and we're stopped at a red light. These two randos roll up next to us, start grilling us and revving their engine. I'm like, how hard do you feel picking beef with us, I dunno. Whatever. But then Kentaro fucking revs back and looks at me. The light's about to change and I'm still fucked up so I'm like, 'FLOOR that shit!'" Everyone dissolved into laughter, and Kamui joined in, though not before reminding them, "Yeah it's funny because none of us died!" Subaru just kissed him on the side of the head.

"You guys are stupid," said Sorata, when he'd collected himself. "Who won though?"

"We did!" Kamui replied at once, outraged.

"Yeah, they got destroyed," Yuzuriha put in. "I don't think it was worth feeling like my life was on the line at certain points-"

"You mean the whole time?" Hokuto corrected her.

"We made it home safely!" Kamui said, proudly. "And then I woke up three hours later to go to work, that's when the death really started to set in."

"I'm sure!" Subaru said with a despairing laugh. He and Kamui looked at each other a moment longer, then exchanged a soft kiss on the lips. "You're amazing." Kamui just laughed quietly, and the two of them went to get more drinks.

---

Kanoe carefully laid her roasting pan full of meat and vegetables onto a cork coaster on her dining table, the last missing piece of her set table puzzle. She took a moment to survey her finished work, embroidered placemats, lit tapered candles, bottles of wine and sparking water and her and Yuuto's wedding china. They'd registered for the china in pieces, so several people had made up the set. She couldn't remember who had given her what now, but it didn't matter given that they only brought it out for special occasions anyway. However, she figured that having Setsuka Sakurazuka's son over for dinner counted as such.

She walked around the table and stood in the doorway to her living room. Fuuma, Yuuto and Mr. Aoki were going back and forth while Seishiro and Mrs. Aoki sat slightly apart, talking quietly together. She cleared her throat. Seishiro looked up, and his polite inquiry reminded her so much of Setsuka. "Dinner's ready," she announced, gesturing her guests toward the dining room. They all got to their feet and followed her. Yuuto took one head of the table while Fuuma took the other.

"This looks wonderful!" Mrs. Aoki exclaimed, smiling warmly at Kanoe. "I hope you didn't go through too much trouble, not after how hard you guys have been working."

"I'm happy to do it," Kanoe replied at once, though her eyes were fixed upon Seishiro, who had hesitated before taking the seat between herself and Fuuma. "I also had Yuuto to help me, so!"

"True, it's one of the few things I'm good for," he said, serving himself salad and passing the bowl to Mr. Aoki. Fuuma refrained from rolling his eyes or making a crude remark by piling his plate with roast potatoes. For a while the conversation was just about how good the food was, but then, the inevitable:

"I'm sure you're sick of getting asked this," Mr. Aoki said apologetically to Seishiro, who sighed and preemptively took a hearty swig of wine, making everyone laugh except Fuuma. "But how's the show? I assumed I'll get a better picture from you-"

"What's that supposed to mean?" interrupted Yuuto in mock outrage, and again everyone laughed except Fuuma, whose eyes were glued to Seishiro.

"Nothing bad," Mr. Aoki assured him. "I just know it's hard to see clearly when you're in the thick of it, so I was curious to hear an outside perspective."

"Fair," muttered Fuuma. Seishiro took his time over another sip of wine before answering.

"Well it's hard to say when all I've seen is tech," he said, slowly. "But I do like what I see."

"That's a ringing endorsement," Kanoe told the table in a stage whisper, and Seishiro took another sip of wine.

"I told you you could always come to rehearsal," Fuuma reminded Mr. Aoki, still smirking.

"Oh no, I'm sure I'd just be a distraction," he protested. "Besides, like I said, I trust you completely. I've always been a huge fan of your work." Fuuma nodded, but said nothing. "I still remember your Macbeth-" Yuuto and Kanoe both flinched. "Sorry! Your Scots Play that you did in Long Island City."

"Oh god me too," said Mrs. Aoki.

"You saw that?" Fuuma asked her, taken aback.

"I did. I'm not trying to kiss your ass, but-"

"No you can, it's cool." Everyone laughed and Mrs. Aoki rolled her eyes, then continued.

"I don't say this lightly, but it was one of the most incredible things I've ever seen."

"Thank you very much," Fuuma said, and he meant it.

"Really though, when Seiichiro found out it was you who'd be directing his show I got so excited!"

"That's really nice of you," Fuuma told her, and he meant that too. "This show won't be quite as tight or intense-"

"It is tight and intense," interrupted Seishiro. Everyone turned to look at him.

"Is it?" Fuuma asked, genuinely curious.

"Yes," Seishiro replied, rather impatiently. "All right, it's not that Macbeth and it's not Yoru, but-"

"What is?" Fuuma offered, tilting his head to the side. Seishiro pressed his lips tightly together for a moment before responding.

"I was going to say it's Chekhov, there's only so tight it can get," he replied, rather coldly. Fuuma's eyes widened, both at Seishiro name dropping a writer like that and at his tone. They stared at each other almost challengingly, but Mrs. Aoki redirected the conversation before it could escalate.

"Would you ever bring that production of Macbeth here?" Fuuma and Seishiro turned and stared at her blankly for a moment, but then Fuuma hitched an ingratiating smile back onto his face and answered.

"I mean I could, but it wouldn't top the last one." He hadn't really intended it as a big important statement, to him it was just true, but the words rippled out through the table and hit everyone slightly differently. Kanoe, Yuuto and Mr. Aoki all exchanged a look of deep reverence, Mrs. Aoki looked curiously between them and a slight spasm crossed Seishiro's face as he stared fixedly at his wine glass.

"I, well it was years ago," said Kanoe. "Probably enough distance, right?" She sounded like a little girl trying to convince her parents she deserved a reward.

"Lady M is your role," Yuuto said, giving her knee an affectionate squeeze under the table.

"It'd be an honor to follow in Setsuka's footsteps like that," she persisted, wistfully but purposefully, looking between Fuuma and Seishiro. "Besides, everyone likes to talk about how similar Fuuma and that director are, now we'd actually have a good point of comparison!" Fuuma could tell she was really just after the role, which he'd never give her.

"Assuming I'm here next summer, maybe." He was still watching Seishiro, who was still watching his wine glass.

"What?!" Kanoe and Yuuto said together. Fuuma just shrugged and drank more wine.

"Something to think about." Silence fell over the table, and for a moment the only sounds were the clinking of knives and forks. Seishiro's jaw was clenched and he was still staring fixedly at his wine glass.

"What made that production so good?" Mrs. Aoki asked, dragging the question up through the thick tension over the table. "That's where that photo in the Igarashi is from, right?"

"Yes!" Kanoe cried, smiling reminiscently. "What really made that one so good was Setsuka as Lady M. She was staggering, even more so than usual! Her mad scene still gives me chills when I think about it. Seishiro was great in it too, of course!"

"What?" Fuuma asked, startled, at the same time that Mrs. Aoki said,

"Oh, I didn't realize you were also a performer!" The entire table shifted its focus back to Seishiro, and it couldn't have been clearer just how untrue that statement was: he seemed to shrink under the many pairs of eyes and drained his wine glass almost defiantly.

"I'm not." Threat was clearly discernible to Fuuma under the polite tone. "The director just asked me to step in, so I did."

"Who'd you play?" Fuuma asked, still totally stunned by this information. Seishiro was always secretive, of course, but usually everything Fuuma would inevitably find out wasn't surprising. This, however, had caught him completely off guard. "The Doctor," Seishiro replied, stroking the stem of his wine glass with his index finger and thumb.

"Oh," Fuuma said, rather lamely, because really what else was there to say? What great insight was he expecting to gain?

"Mm. Never again," Seishiro continued, and though his tone was suddenly playful, there was still the threat just beneath, and though everyone laughed, it was clear that the subject was closed. Fuuma seized his wine glass and drained it, trying to drown the sudden swell of anger and frustration in his belly and chest.

---

"Never have I ever had sex in public," Kamui said, loudly, from his seat on the couch beside Subaru.

"How public are we talking?" Keiichi asked, intrigued, rubbing his chin.

"Public enough to get you booked for indecent exposure if you got caught," said Kamui. Everyone except Arashi, Kakyo and Hokuto all drank.

"Never have I ever hooked up with my RA," said Yuzuriha. Kamui glared at her for a moment before taking his drink with good grace.

"Junior year was crazy, whatever," he said, shrugging. "She was so hot though, holy fuck," he added, reminiscently, making everyone laugh. "Anyway, never have I ever flashed my opponents in beer pong."

"That's a cheap shot!" Subaru scolded him, but then Yuzuriha cut in, in a mocking voice,

"Never have I ever been named Kamui Shirou!"

"All right, that's enough!" laughed Hokuto. "Never have I ever… taken a body shot!"

"Excuse me? That is 100% something you've done!" Subaru interrupted, indignantly.

"Hence me taking a drink!" Hokuto replied, grinning and toasting him before doing so. He rolled his eyes, but followed suit, along with everyone except Kakyo and Sorata.

"You too?" Kakyo asked, to distract himself from thoughts of Hokuto in that position.

"Is that surprising?" Sorata asked, heat rushing up his neck.

"Apparently," Karen said, winking.

"We should change that!" Keiichi cried, excitedly, and everyone fixed their gaze upon Sorata.

"Let's do it!" he said, brave in his intoxication, standing up and holding up his arms like a boxer stepping into the ring. His castmates cheered. "Who am I taking a shot off of?" The moment he said it he felt his face burn, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Arashi flush too. He determinedly looked away from her. The gesture wasn't lost on Yuzuriha, and she yelled the first name that came into her head before anyone could volunteer Arashi.

"Kamui!"

"What?" Kamui cried, bemusedly.

"If you're cool I'm cool!" Sorata told him, smiling invitingly from across the room.

"Okay sure!"

"Is that all right?" Yuzuriha and Hokuto asked Subaru at the same time. They looked at each other in some surprise before dissolving into fits of laughter and hugging each other. Subaru just looked confused, then sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

"But seriously, that's…?" Kamui asked, quietly, looking up at him with wide eyes. Subaru's heart swelled in his chest and he kissed him on the lips.

"Of course, why wouldn't it be?"

"I mean, I just didn't wanna cross a line or something, not that we discussed exclusivity, but-"

"Did we need to?" Subaru asked, smiling. Touched, Kamui smiled back and kissed him on the lips. "I mean yes we do, but sober." Kamui nodded, his heart swelling. "Regardless, it's a body shot off of Sorata, do I really need to be worried?" Kamui let out an appreciative burst of laughter and kissed Subaru again.

"Nah."

"Ready when you are, Kamui!" Sorata called, and Subaru and Kamui looked up to find everyone congregated around the kitchen island.

"Sorry!" Grinning, Kamui stripped off his shirt, tossed it carelessly over his shoulder and strode across the room with Subaru in tow. He then hopped up onto the island and lay splayed out on his back. Keiichi wolf whistled as Yuzuriha and Hokuto carefully poured salt onto the smooth skin just below his belly button and tequila onto his breastbone. "That's cold, what the fuck!" he cried, though his indignation was ruined by his giggle.

"Get over it," snapped Yuzuriha, though she was also giggling as she handed him a lime wedge, which he stuck between his teeth. Sorata watched all of this from beside the island, determinedly not looking at Arashi.

"Ready?" he asked. Kamui gave him the thumbs up and everyone cheered. Sorata grinned and bent over Kamui, licking up the salt and making him giggle around the lime wedge. He then drank the tequila off his chest and finally descended upon the lime wedge, biting into the fruit and sucking out the juice. He felt Kamui let go of it, then stood up with it still in his mouth, arms raised in triumph. His castmates cheered, and he bowed graciously. When he straightened up, he finally permitted himself to look at Arashi, and found her chewing her lip. She met his gaze, her heart pounding in her chest. She had no idea what she was feeling except hot all over. Their castmates were all talking about more drinks and different music as Sorata rather clumsily took the lime out of his mouth. However, before either of them could actually say anything to each other, Kamui sat up, spun around and clapped Sorata hard on the shoulder. "Ow, be careful!"

"I love you, Sorata!"

"Fuck off, Kamui!" Arashi giggled. She couldn't help but feel affectionate instead of frustrated as the moment broke.

"Here!" gasped Yuzuriha, appearing suddenly behind her with another drink, and Arashi gave her a wide smile. "Right?" And they fell against each other in a fit of giggles.

"That's encouraging," Kamui muttered to Sorata, his eyes on the girls. Sorata just shoved him off the kitchen island onto the floor.

"Ow!"

"Children!" Keiichi scolded, handing the pair of them more drinks. Subaru stepped forward at once to help Kamui to his feet, then pulled him close.

"I'm sticky, I'm sorry," he said.

"Gross," replied Subaru, kissing him on the lips.

---

"So what's the rest of the cast up to tonight?" Mrs. Aoki asked as Yuuto poured her more wine.

"Having a big after tech party as I understand it," Kanoe replied, taking a sip from her own glass.

"Ah ha! Good for them!"

"As long as they recover before we get back to work on Tuesday," Yuuto said, dryly.

"As if you're in any position to talk!" scoffed Kanoe. Mrs. Aoki raised her eyebrows at Yuuto over the rim of her wine glass. He sighed as if in defeat.

"True! Well it was years ago-"

"Hey," Fuuma whispered quietly to Seishiro under the cover of Yuuto's inane story about some night of drunken craziness.

"Mm?" Seishiro asked, looking at Fuuma out of the corner of his eye.

"You still good?" Seishiro rolled his eyes and drank more wine in answer.

"Easy," Fuuma said, betraying his frustration. "I get it, but-"

"I'm fine, we've been through this," Seishiro replied, coldly.

"Yeah, well, now it seems like this disease is beyond my practice," Fuuma shot back. Seishiro turned sharply to face him, his lips parted in surprise and eyes narrowed in… Was it disgust or anger? When had Seishiro become so difficult to read? They stared at each other in tense silence a moment longer, then, "Drink some water." And with that, Fuuma excused himself, intensely aware of Seishiro's eyes on the back of his neck as he left the dining room. Everyone else at the table broke off their own conversations and watched him go in surprised silence.

"What's this about him not coming back next summer?" Kanoe asked, the moment he was out of earshot.

"That's the first I've heard of it," Yuuto replied, his brow furrowed. Mr. and Mrs. Aoki looked at each other, then at Yuuto and Kanoe, before all four of them turned to Seishiro, wordlessly demanding an explanation. Seishiro pinched the stem of his wine glass and rubbed it up and down, his lip curling as he surveyed his audience. He allowed the already thick tension to tauten a little more before finally saying,

"I'm not sure, but maybe next year I'll hire a director who doesn't drive everyone fucking crazy." He drank more wine, eyes glittering at the stunned silence. However, Yuuto stepped in before it could spiral too horribly.

"Are you all ready for dessert? We picked up cake from Duklyon, and we've got port or this very nice whiskey!" He flushed and cleared his throat.

"We can take everything outside, it's a beautiful night," Kanoe added, standing up and beginning to collect all the dishes.

"No no, I can take care of this," Yuuto told her, taking the plates from her and kissing her on the cheek. She smiled appreciatively, then muttered in his ear,

"He's only saying that for attention, right?"

"I'm sure he is," Yuuto muttered back with a confident smile. She kissed him on the lips, then crossed the room to get the port and whiskey from the liquor cabinet. Fuuma reappeared in the doorway as Seishiro and Mr. and Mrs. Aoki got to their feet.

"Are we getting thrown out already?" he asked the room, though his eyes were on Seishiro. Kanoe jabbed him playfully in the arm with the end of the whiskey bottle. "Ow!"

"Oh please, we're just going to the porch for dessert."

"Yeah yeah," Fuuma replied, still trying to catch Seishiro's eye. However, Seishiro ignored him and drained his wine glass under the cover of everyone else's laughter.

---

"You're still all right? Still with me?" Hokuto asked Kakyo, under the cover of the music, which was becoming steadily more ratchet. They were standing alone by the kitchen island while everyone else was in the living room. Keiichi was leading Karen through some actual Latin steps he knew while everyone else was cheering, chatting or dancing on their own. Hokuto gave Kakyo's arm a squeeze and he felt the touch all the way into his chest.

"I feel great," he told her, with a wide smile. His mind felt pleasantly soft, as though someone had smudged all the corners, leaving everything safe and blurry. The stories and energy, which he usually would have found overwhelming, didn't seem to bother him at all. "This is the best I've felt in a long time."

"I'm glad to hear that," she replied, quietly, under the music.

"You are?" Hokuto rolled her eyes.

"Of course! It's great to see!" Kakyo was more than ready to accept the words in his soft, drunken state.

"I've never been to a party like this," he told her, and she grinned.

"Not as crazy as on TV, right?" Kakyo burst out laughing, and he couldn't have said what exactly was so funny, but he did know that this was the most normal he'd ever felt in his life. At a party with colleagues and friends and Hokuto. Was this how other people felt all the time? He stared into Hokuto's face, half lit by the one table lamp turned on. She had allowed him to feel this way, she was the only person ever to have done so. He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't think what. "What's up?" she asked, but Kakyo just shook his head and took another sip of his drink.

"Nothing, never mind."

The song ended, and Karen gave Keiichi a huge hug while everyone watching cheered. "Teach me to do that!" Hokuto called across the room, and Keiichi went into a gracious half bow and extended his hand. Hokuto looked to Kakyo, who actually laughed.

"Go, I'll be fine," he told her, and it was actually true. Hokuto beamed, set her drink on the counter and stepped forward to take Keiichi's hand. Kakyo followed and joined Sorata, Subaru and Kamui, whose conversation was nearest, while Karen took her drink back from Arashi and brushed her hair out of her eyes, looking and feeling rather windswept.

"That was awesome!" Yuzuriha exclaimed, her eyes very bright.

"It was," Arashi agreed eagerly.

"Do you actually know how to dance like that?" Yuzuriha pressed on.

"Well Keiichi was doing most of the work, I've only ever done social dancing at clubs back in the city years ago."

"But you were so good!" Yuzuriha cried, her eyes huge. "I bet you had people lining up to dance with you!"

"You're sweet," Karen replied, flushing slightly at the memories of salsa nights at clubs in Brooklyn.

"Just observant," Yuzuriha corrected her. "The closest I ever got to like, actual dance and not just being drunk at parties was dating a dancer in college."

"That must have been interesting," Karen said, raising an eyebrow.

"It was great when he wasn't tired from rehearsal or performances," Yuzuriha said, grinning suggestively. "But then there was the other ninety nine percent of the time."

"Ha!"

"Yeah, plus dancers have both artist crazy and athlete crazy, which is just-"

"Crazy?" Arashi offered, and Karen and Yuzuriha fell against each other laughing. Arashi smiled, very pleased with herself. On a sudden swell of bravery brought on by laughter and punch, she said, "I wanted to dance when I was younger, but my aunt didn't like the idea." Yuzuriha and Karen immediately began to protest.

"That's unfair!"

"Really, especially when you're so well proportioned for it!"

"I suppose theater's good too though, plus your career is longer…"

"And you're such a great actress anyway!"

Arashi's eyes widened in surprise and though her stomach twisted at all the sympathy, support and validation, it filled her heart almost to the bursting point. She couldn't remember ever feeling that way before, and all her usual misgivings suddenly didn't bother her as much. She caught Sorata's eye across the room and gave him a smile, which he returned.

"Was your aunt cool with theater, though?" Yuzuriha asked, and Arashi replied with a bitter noise before she could stop herself. However, Karen and Yuzuriha looked more offended on her behalf than ever.

"No?" Karen asked. Arashi shook her head.

"She thought it was a phase." The words were also bitter, but it felt good to say them out loud, particularly when Yuzuriha and Karen rolled their eyes and shook their heads.

"It's only a phase if you aren't talented or don't wanna work hard," Yuzuriha said, derisively.

"Exactly," Karen added, toasting the words.

"I guess that's true of anything, though," Yuzuriha amended, thoughtfully. "Plus it means everyone can get better!"

"You're so optimistic," Arashi laughed. Yuzuriha shrugged and sipped her drink.

"It's just easier that way." However, as she said it she thought of Kusanagi for the first time that night, with whom the exact opposite was true. What was the point of being optimistic there? "I'm going to get another drink," she announced, before she could think about it too much. "Do either of you want anything?"

"No thank you."

"I'm fine." Karen watched her go, then smiled warmly at Arashi. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you ended up in theater."

"Really?" Arashi asked, unable to keep from laughing.

"Really. You're amazing to watch." Even in Arashi's new supportive surroundings and punch induced bravery, she had no idea what to say. "All of Maudie's big scenes? Honey you have all eyes upon you." Arashi blushed so hot she wondered if Karen could feel it.

"Really?" she asked again, simultaneously hopeful and incredulous. Karen gave Arashi's arm a squeeze.

"Absolutely." Arashi's eyes darted once more to Sorata. She watched him toss his head back in laughter at something Subaru said, then eventually turn and catch her eye again. He smiled, and she smiled back. "It's a weird thing, though, going from being invisible to having everyone staring at you," Karen said, gently. Arashi's breath caught in her throat and she stared hard at Karen, not sure where the conversation was going, but the words dropped into her chest like raindrops on a lake, causing tiny ripples of emotion to travel outwards through her body. "Or looking at you for good reasons," Karen continued, still gently.

"My aunt always told me I needed to stand out more," Arashi said, dropping her voice, "but whenever I'd try, it was wrong."

"That's really unfair."

"It is," Arashi agreed, shivering as she said it. "Thank you for saying that!"

"Of course!" Karen cried, and bumped their solo cups together.

---

Fuuma was over the party.

Out on Yuuto and Kanoe's porch, the darkness and pressure surrounding them made Fuuma feel like he was on a submarine in the abyssal bottom of the ocean, swarms of gnats like marine snow and the feeble overhead lights like flashes of a bioluminescent predator.

Yuuto had his free arm around Kanoe while she had her legs thrown over his thigh, the Aokis sat side by side across from them, thighs touching, and Fuuma and Seishiro sat a foot apart, not looking at each other. He'd texted Camellia 'dinner party hell send help' but she hadn't responded yet, so he sat quietly, sipping his third cup of coffee and taking in maybe ten percent of the conversation around him. Normally Seishiro would have given him the "I'm done let's get the fuck out of here immediately" look by now and Fuuma would have swept in with an excuse so they could make a graceful exit together. Now, though, he was talking contentedly to the other four as they sipped on whiskey, port and coffee like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Yet again, Fuuma remembered the cocktail parties he'd been dragged to by his parents, when he'd first learned how wildly people's words and actions could differ, how people could lie to each other's faces without thinking twice, hurt each other on purpose and feel nothing or by accident and feel everything. "Do you think your upbringing is what got you into this work?" was a question many people would ask him. He'd usually reply with a charismatic smile and a counter. "You trying to shrink me?" or "You think it's that simple?" were his favorites. Two years ago, however, Camellia had asked him the question as they'd shared a cigarette outside the Igarashi, and he'd actually thought about it before giving her an answer.

"Maybe," he replied, shrugging. "Why, does that make sense to you, Tsubaki?" She shrugged too, took a drag from the cigarette and handed it back to him.

"I mean, we both know you don't get into this type of work because you've had an easy time of it, that's not new information." Fuuma wrapped his lips around the cigarette and inhaled, his eyes fixed upon her. "And you didn't grow up with some really fucked up shit happening to you, yeah, but the hypocrisy and bullshit must have had you feeling some type of way." Fuuma burst out laughing. "The way I see it," she continued, tilting her head to the side, "there's no pride in being a survivor of whatever you had to survive in and of itself, but I figure it's better not to waste your suffering." Fuuma nodded, exhaling the smoke through his nose and thinking of Seishiro. "But I feel like for you it didn't have to be theater. You could have become a psychologist or a writer or just took over the world and burned it to fucking ashes-" Fuuma let out another sharp burst of laughter and handed her the cigarette. She grinned and took a drag. "You want my honest opinion?"

"Always."

"I think you like theater because it's not permanent more than anything else."

Fuuma gave a weird involuntary shudder at the memories. He'd always trusted and admired her sincerity and respect, but where the fuck had that come from? It was his second year there, he'd obviously stuck around. He checked his phone, but she still hadn't replied.

Seishiro shifted beside him and gave him an enquiring look. He was clearly drunk and a weird feeling took root in Fuuma's chest. The fact that he hadn't told him about playing the Doctor was like a splinter he couldn't extract. What else had Seishiro not told him? Fuuma never felt that anyone owed him their story: if people wanted to tell him anything, which they very often did, that was their choice and no one else's. Now, however, for the first time in a long time, he felt curious.

"What?" Seishiro asked, rather impatiently. Fuuma couldn't help but smile, seeing clearly the little boy in his mother's arms under the bright spotlight. At the same time, though, his smile didn't reach inside, didn't ease the weird feeling in his chest.

"Nothing," he replied. Before either of them could say anything else, Yuuto's cellphone rang loudly in his pocket, making him and Kanoe jump. She swung her legs off him and he retrieved it with hurried, drunken apologies. His eyes widened when he saw Satsuki's name.

"Sorry, I have to take this," he said, hurriedly, scrambling off the couch and pressing the phone to his ear. "Hello?" he asked, lowering his voice as he stepped over the threshold into the kitchen.

"I've been texting you for the last twenty minutes," Satsuki snapped.

"Sorry, we still have guests over."

"What happened to 10:30?"

"We're assholes, I'm sorry."

"I'm aware. I'm outside your front door but I didn't want to-"

"What?!" Yuuto exclaimed, mortified. "Hold on!" He sprinted to his front door and wrenched it open, revealing Satsuki under the porch light, her jaw clenched and eyes narrowed behind her glasses. She shoved her phone into her pocket, her heart giving an unpleasant throb as she took in Yuuto framed in the doorway, drunk and embarrassed. The hand holding his phone to his ear fell limply to his side.

"I didn't want to ring the bell since you have guests," she said, coldly, her heart throbbing unpleasantly again. Yuuto had the decency to look ashamed.

"I'm sorry," he replied, his stomach curling in on itself as all his earlier smugness gave way to embarassment. Satsuki said nothing. "Do you still want to come in?" he asked, hesitantly, after a moment. Satsuki swallowed her contemptuous snort.

"Sure," she replied, and he shuddered despite her even tone.

"Um," he said, looking very awkwardly over his shoulder.

"I'll just head upstairs?" she offered, and Yuuto nodded.

"Here," he stepped to the side to let her in and shut the door quietly behind her. "We'll be up in a few minutes." Satsuki nodded, but didn't move. They stared at each other, not knowing what they wanted, but aware that he owed her. When he could stand it no longer, he stepped forward and kissed her on the lips. He shuddered in guilt while she shuddered in surprise. "Sorry," he whispered.

"It's okay," she whispered back before she could stop herself. A brief smile crossed Yuuto's face as he stepped backwards to return to his guests. His expression was strange, but Satsuki didn't question it. She turned away and headed upstairs. It was pitch dark, but she remembered where Yuuto and Kanoe's bedroom was.

She toed the door open and turned on the bedside table lamp. The room was suddenly lit by a soft golden glow, and Satsuki crossed her arms in front of her chest as she looked around, taking in the fine furniture, the crisp linens and the hooks in the walls and ceiling painted to blend in, an uncharacteristic display of secrecy about their sex life.

She rolled her eyes and sat down on the edge of the bed, her heart still throbbing unpleasantly. Last time they'd at least had the whole evening together to warm up, get sufficiently intoxicated, talk what they wanted and what they didn't. They couldn't do her the same courtesy this time? Or was it just Yuuto, still recovering from breaking their stupid, arbitrary rule?

Satsuki's throat tightened as she swallowed the rush of contempt that didn't feel nearly as good as it usually did. She yanked open the bedside table drawer and carefully dug through the vibrators, nipple clamps and bottles of lube and oil to find a small glass jar of weed, a bowl and a lighter. She packed the bowl rather carelessly, lit up and inhaled. She closed her eyes as the smoke filled her lungs, compressing her heart and forcing it to slow down. She stayed there as long as she could, relishing the relative calm it brought, then exhaled, imagining she could send all doubts and semblence of giving a fuck away in the cloud of sweet smoke.

---

"Arashi, go get him!" Yuzuriha hissed, nudging her.

"What?!" she sputtered, though of course she'd seen Sorata say he needed air and step out onto the porch, all alone.

"He giftwrapped that for you!" exclaimed Hokuto, appearing at Arashi's other side. "Go!" Arashi would usually have felt shy, but her drunkenness afforded her a strange clarity, and she knew she was right. Besides, it wasn't like she didn't want to. With a brave nod, she drained her solo cup, set it on the counter and followed Sorata out the door. Yuzuriha and Hokuto fell against each other, giggling. "They're so in love!" Hokuto said, wistfully, and though Yuzuriha just shrugged, she was grinning too. "Oh god…"

"What?" On the couch, Subaru and Kamui were now kissing passionately, drinks forgotten on the floor beside Kamui's shirt. "Typical," muttered Yuzuriha, rolling her eyes, though she was still smiling. "They are sweet, though."

"They are," agreed Hokuto, though she turned away pointedly and Yuzuriha followed suit.

"Is that weird?" she asked, under the music.

"Not as weird as it was in college," Hokuto replied, "but even so. He's my little brother, he'll be married with kids and I'll still think he's twelve." Yuzuriha snorted. "The only thing that's really hard is that Subaru has terrible taste in boyfriends." Yuzuriha wasn't sure how to respond to that so she just took another sip of her drink. "His MO is 'let me find the most fucked up person in the room and latch on!'" Hokuto elaborated.

"Kamui's not like that!" Yuzuriha cried, indignantly, but Hokuto patted her on the arm.

"I know, Kamui's a sweetheart! Moody, but a total sweetheart."

"His moms always say 'hostile.'" Hokuto snorted too, but then her eyes darted back across the room, focusing for a moment on Subaru and Kamui, then Kakyo chatting to Karen and Keiichi.

"Subaru's vice has always been people, though," she reflected. "So is mine, so I can't judge, but," she shrugged theatrically and shook her head before patting Yuzuriha on the arm again. "Sorry, listen to me getting all introspective!"

"It's okay!" exclaimed Yuzuriha at once, waving the words aside. "It's interesting, what you said about… People being vices."

"How so? Is there someone you're addicted to?" Hokuto asked, peering at Yuzuriha over the rim of her cup. Yuzuriha's expression tightened.

"I wouldn't say addicted," she replied, hesitantly, and Hokuto leaned forward inquiringly, her lips still pressed against her cup. Yuzuriha swallowed. She liked Hokuto very much, but there was something telling her strongly and clearly not to elaborate. "There's someone I like, though," she decided on, finally, and Hokuto's eyes widened excitedly.

"Who? Someone at Babylon?"

"Oh no," Yuzuriha replied at once, and though she didn't quite manage to hide her embarrassed giggle, she did manage to play it off. "I'd lose my mind trying to date a colleague!" As she said it, the knot of doubt and despair over her and Kusanagi's situation inside her tightened painfully, but she ignored it.

"Totally fair!" Hokuto said, decisively, though her eyes also strayed to Kakyo again. This time, he didn't miss the gesture, and gave her a glowing look across the room.

---

"Hey," Sorata said, surprised but pleased to see Arashi in the dooorway to the kitchen.

"Hi," she replied, smiling hesitantly. She stepped onto the porch. The noise of the party dropped as she focused on Sorata and the cool night air enveloped her.

"What's up? Getting air too?" Arashi nodded, came to stand beside him and placed her hands on the chipped railing. Sorata eyed her hands and thought for a moment of taking one into his own, but resisted. He was thrilled that she'd approached him on her own again, but couldn't think of anything to say. However, as he stared at her moonlit profile, he found he was content just to look.

---

Neither Fuuma nor Seishiro spoke to each other as they were ushered, hurriedly but politely, out of Yuuto and Kanoe's house with Mr. and Mrs. Aoki. They said their goodbyes and thank yous on the front porch, and though Yuuto and Kanoe were quick to head back inside, the other four remained there. Seishiro continued to be uncharacteristically social, promising to see the Aokis again the next time he was in town, though he couldn't be bothered with a precise date. This only added to Fuuma's irritation, as Seishiro always knew his schedule months in advance.

'Except when he shows up out of the blue like the first week of rehearsal,' Fuuma reminded himself. He exhaled sharply through his nose and rolled impatiently backwards and forwards on the balls of his feet. After what felt like an extraordinary amount of time, Mr. Aoki insisted they'd kept their babysitter long enough and really did need to get home.

"It was so nice to finally meet you!" Mrs. Aoki exclaimed, allowing both Fuuma and Seishiro to kiss her on the cheek.

"Likewise," Fuuma replied, graciously, as Mr. Aoki shook his and Seishiro's hands.

"We'll see you soon, good night," Seishiro said, and Fuuma unlocked the car. In the momentary blaze of headlights, Fuuma noticed Satsuki's bike locked up in front of the porch. He hastily turned his burst of laughter into a cough as they got into the car.

"Let's go?" said Seishiro immediately, all social grace gone.

"Don't spin out on me," Fuuma countered, reversing out of Yuuto and Kanoe's driveway behind Mr. and Mrs. Aoki. At the bottom, they went left, and Fuuma right.

"Please," Seishiro shot back, resting his head against the window. Neither of them spoke as they made their way back along the narrow, winding road. Trees and silence pressed in around them, and the sky stretched, pitch dark but glittering with stars, overhead and into the valley below. All that could be heard was the rev of the engine. It was serene and beautiful, but Fuuma couldn't shake his agitation. He kept glancing at Seishiro, wanting to pick and probe despite knowing how stupid that was, especially because he had no idea what he'd even say. Normally all he'd have to do was get Seishiro into the right state of mind and he'd be forthcoming. Now he actually had to ask for it. He supposed it might be easier to find out about the director and whatever else while Seishiro was drunk, but it could also backfire horribly. As he mulled over his options, Camellia's words kept coming back to him, which only fueled his agitation. He took a deep breath in and sighed it out, hoping they could just get home, fuck and go to sleep like normal.

They spent the entire car ride in silence, and Fuuma barely had to pull into the driveway before Seishiro was out the door. Fuuma sighed impatiently, shut off the engine and followed him through the porch and kitchen, up the stairs and down the hallway. The very air seemed to press in upon them, and Fuuma felt more than ever like he didn't belong, like the house where he'd been a guest for four summers had finally decided enough was enough. Neither of them bothered to turn on any lights, and Fuuma could barely make out Seishiro's outline through the blackness, broken only by the moonlight glittering through the windows.

When they were back in Seishiro's bedroom, he turned on the bedside table lamp, and in the sudden brightness it struck Fuuma just how old fashioned the room was, how old the walls and furniture looked compared to Seishiro's laptop, their cellphones, even their clothes. He remained in the doorway, his eyes on Seishiro as he stood beside the bed. It seemed both of them were waiting for the other to move, but Fuuma had no idea how to proceed. He kept his eyes on the back of Seishiro's neck as he bowed his head forward, exposing more skin, pale and contrasting sharply with his dark hair and suit jacket. He sighed, straightened up again, and Fuuma stiffened as though preparing for an attack.

"Why haven't you fixed the screens yet?"

It was the last question Fuuma had expected and it took him a moment to respond. "What?"

"The porch screens," Seishiro repeated. "Why haven't you fixed them?"

"I've been busy," Fuuma replied, still nonplussed. Seishiro said nothing. "I'm sorry, did you forget I've been up to my neck in your show?" he asked, his voice rising. He knew it wasn't wise to pick a fight, but Seishiro still wasn't looking at him, and when he replied with nothing more than a contemptuous noise, Fuuma pressed on. "Or no, I guess you didn't give a fuck, just like last year when you dipped out on me?" The bitter words lit a pleasurable, angry fire in Fuuma's chest. Seishiro turned to face him with narrowed eyes.

"Is that what you think?" he asked, his lip curling.

"It's what the fuck happened!" snapped Fuuma. "Did you know last year was gonna be a shit show and that's why you left or did you just not care?"

"So it was my fault that you weren't happy with your show?" Seishiro asked, which only incensed Fuuma.

"Why you never told me about your show?" he demanded, changing tact.

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah, your Macbeth, you didn't think to tell me you were-"

"What does that have to do with you?" Seishiro shot back, his face, a moment ago so flushed from alcohol draining of color in his anger. The fire in Fuuma's own chest blazed.

"Well apparently everyone and their mother loves to compare me to that director, so-"

"Isn't that their problem?" Seishiro snapped, his lip curling. "I've never told you that, if-"

"Why, you let him fuck you too?" The second the words were out of his mouth, Fuuma regretted them. For an eternal moment, Seishiro looked as though Fuuma had slapped him, then his expression hardened into one of cold fury. Fuuma had never seen him look like that, ever, and it was scary.

"I'll ask you again," he said, venomously. "What does that have to do with you?" Fuuma stood paralyzed by his own words, totally unable to defend himself. "Exactly," Seishiro continued, his hands balled into fists. He took a step backwards and Fuuma's stomach hitched fearfully. "Especially not if you plan on leaving." Fuuma sputtered, but before he could actually say anything, "Get out of my room, please."

"Wait, I didn't mean it, I-"

"Get out of my room, please," Seishiro repeated, turning his back on him. Fuuma wanted to argue more, to fight back and persist, but he could feel Seishiro withdrawing even as he stood there, as though he were water he was trying to hold in his cupped hands.

"I'm sorry!" he cried, desperately, but the words bounced off the new invisible wall around Seishiro.

"I won't ask you again." A full minute passed in ringing silence.

"Goddamn it…" Fuuma turned on his heel and slammed the door shut behind him, plunging himself into darkness. He strode down the hallway to Setsuka's bedroom and slammed that door too. He didn't want to turn on the lights. He didn't want to see. He felt shaken, really rattled, as he hadn't done in a long time. He couldn't get Seishiro's words out of his head and kept seeing flashes of him, his face so full of anger, the back of his neck, the photo of him downstairs. He shuddered and his stomach clenched painfully.

He shouldn't have made that comment. He should have had more self control. He always had more self control, what the fuck had happened? His heart, stomach and lungs shriveled as he remembered, and then… Did he really talk about leaving that much? But who the fuck was Seishiro to talk when he'd had no real response to Fuuma pointing out how he'd abandoned him and his project last year?

Fuuma shuddered again, the hot anger stinging his shrivelled insides. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath in and sighed it out, refusing even to vent his feelings with a yell. Without bothering to get undressed, he threw himself into bed. He shuddered as he disturbed the sheets, musty and old like the rest of the house, like the screens he still hadn't fixed.

---

"That was smooth," said Yuuto with an awkward smile at his wife as they closed the door on their departing guests. Kanoe just tossed her hair and gave him a kiss on the lips.

"It was fine." Yuuto wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her flush up against him. His smile softened affectionately as he looked into her face, so beautiful and familiar. He tenderly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Satsuki's upstairs," he said, much more quietly than he'd intended, and his heart gave a guilty squeeze. Kanoe, who of course already knew that, placed her hand on his chest and toyed with the buttons on his shirt.

"Are you excited?" she asked in a husky voice. Goosebumps rose up Yuuto's arms and his heart smashed guiltily into his ribs.

"Yes," he replied, just as softly.

"Mm…" Kanoe gave him another kiss on the lips, then took him by the hand and led him upstairs.

Satsuki sat up at the approaching creaking footsteps. Kanoe threw open the door and beamed at her while Yuuto remained a step behind, looking like a little boy about to be punished. For a moment, none of them spoke, then, "Sorry I started without you," Satsuki said, lazily, gesturing vaguely at the weed and bowl on the bedside table.

"You act like we haven't been drinking all evening," Kanoe replied, smiling and running her fingers through her hair.

"Mm," Satsuki said, not returning the smile. She could feel Yuuto's eyes on her, but refused to look at him. She was settling into that kind of high that made her withdraw into a state of introspective hostility, exactly the wrong state given her plans for the evening. 'That's the problem with weed,' she thought, the words rising from deep in her mind to break its otherwise placid surface. "You could have some too," she reminded Kanoe, testily. Kanoe laughed and turned to Yuuto, who averted his gaze at once. It gave Satsuki a most enjoyable rush of power to see him blush.

"I'm fine," Yuuto replied, rather awkwardly. "I'll have another drink, though." He rushed back downstairs, and Satsuki smirked at another surge of power.

"Is he getting cold feet?" she asked Kanoe in the same testy tone. Kanoe just picked up the weed and bowl and sat down beside Satsuki to repack it.

"Of course not." She lit up, took a long hit and held the smoke in her lungs. Satsuki watched her impassively, though impatience and hostility continued to simmer just below her conscious mind. "It's just been a while," Kanoe elaborated on her exhale, the sweet smoke clouding around them.

"Mm." Kanoe set the bowl back on the bedside table and leaned back on her hands, her neck long and hair falling gracefully behind her. Her dress was open at the front and her cleavage was pale and smooth in contrast to the dark fabric.

"That is good weed," she said, closing her eyes. The words seemed to intensify Satsuki's own intoxication and her mind suddenly began to churn, dredging up thoughts.

'Your husband fucked me. Why is he taking so long? Why did I even come over here?' More to get her mind to be quiet than because she really wanted to, Satsuki moved closer to Kanoe, placed her hand on her thigh and began to nose gently against her neck and ear. Kanoe smiled and made a soft, contented noise, her nipples getting hard through the fabric of her dress. However, she straightened up and faced Satsuki, her gaze steady despite the intoxicants.

"Not without Yuuto," she reminded her. Satsuki withdrew at once as a sharp stab of anger broke the surface of her mind, sending furious waves she didn't understand or want crashing against the inside of her skull. She suddenly wished more than anything that she was back home, away from Yuuto and Kanoe and all the associated bullshit. However, at that moment she heard Yuuto coming back up the stairs, and stayed put.

---

"Let's go upstairs," Kamui breathed against Subaru's lips, and he groaned and nodded gratefully. The pair of them got up from the couch and rushed upstairs hand in hand.

"You forgot your shirt!" Yuzuriha called after them.

"You forgot I don't care!" Yuzuriha rolled her eyes at Hokuto.

"You're more than welcome to stay in our dorm if you want to just leave them to it," she said, smiling sympathetically. Yuzuriha was about to insist that it didn't bother her, but then remembered Sorata and Arashi and thought it best to give them space.

"Sure, that'd be great," she replied, and Hokuto beamed and raised her drink.

"Excellent, it'll be one big sleepover!"

"We can braid each other's hair and tell secrets!" Yuzuriha exclaimed.

"Wait wait that sounds like an awesome time though," interjected Keiichi from across the room.

"You're more than welcome to join us!" Hokuto told him, and he punched the air and threw his other arm around Kakyo, who didn't shy away or even look surprised. He just smiled and returned the gesture, still feeling at peace. Hokuto's heart squeezed in her chest, and they all headed out the door, still holding their drinks.

---

"Did everyone leave?" Sorata asked, as the closing front door bounced in its frame a few times and their castmates' voices receded.

"I guess so?" Arashi replied, looking over her shoulder into the suddenly empty kitchen. Why had they left without even telling them? Did they know or suspect something after she'd followed Sorata onto the back porch? She suddenly remembered getting dragged to parties with her aunt, snobby parties where you couldn't so much as hold your drink the wrong way without arousing suspicion. Then of course there'd been parties her schoolmates threw whenever someone's parents were out of town. Somehow no one's parents ever found out, though Arashi's aunt always warned her, "Things like that will get you in trouble." Arashi hadn't bothered to remind her that she never got invited to parties like that anyway. Obviously once she started doing theater, things had changed. Cast parties were an essential part of any show, but she'd always leave early and feel terribly awkward. It was only this show where she'd really actively participated and spent time with her castmates. She felt brave in a way she hadn't ever felt before, even when drunk, even when alone and away from prying eyes. She didn't even care that Hokuto and Yuzuriha had not only seen her follow Sorata, but had encouraged her to do so.

"What's up?" Sorata asked, tilting his head to the side and leaning a fraction of an inch closer. Arashi shook her hair out of her eyes.

"Nothing, sorry, I was just feeling introspective all of a sudden," she replied, rather awkwardly. She shifted against the railing, the resulting creak echoing in the darkness. Sorata smiled, and warmth flooded Arashi's chest. Sorata felt the shift and goosebumps rose up his arms.

"What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing important." Before he could protest, she looked him dead in the eye, making his heart skip. "What happened between us. Was that… Was that it?" Her face burned at the firmness of her own tone, but she didn't look away. For once she wasn't worried about his reaction; she just wanted information.

"It can be if you want it to be," Sorata assured her at once, though it was immediately clear that his answer hadn't satisfied her. He swallowed. "I, look that's true, okay? The ball's in your court on this one." Arashi's mouth went rather dry. What did that mean? What could she even do with the ball? Again, Sorata could tell she wasn't satisfied, and he had no idea how to proceed. Could he say explicitly how he felt or what he wanted? He didn't want to pressure her, but… "For what it's worth," he said, slowly, and the space between them sharpened. "I like you, and I'm sure it's not just because of the play, so-"

Arashi stepped forward, seized the sides of his face and pulled him into a kiss. Sorata didn't even have time to be surprised before his mind immediately melted into the sensation. He thrust his tongue into her mouth and threw his arms around her. Arashi groaned into the kiss and collapsed against his chest, allowing him to support her. All the pressure and tension she hadn't even realized she'd been carrying came rushing out of her with the drink and his words.

"Upstairs?" she gasped, desperately, between kisses.

"Upstairs," Sorata moaned in agreement.

They broke apart reluctantly and rushed back inside the now deserted dorm and up the stairs. The only sounds were the creaking floorboards, chattering insects and heavy breathing and low, needy moans from Kamui's room.

---

It felt like hours later, though by the clock on the bedside table it had barely been twenty five minutes, since Yuuto had come back upstairs with drinks and initiated the "boundaries" conversation. He was talking a mile a minute, as though he could verbally vent all the heat and nervous energy his heart kept pumping through him. Kanoe sat up in a dignified posture, smiling and nodding reassuringly. Satsuki remained silent, seething and sipping whiskey. The sharp taste and chill of the ice cubes knocking against the class helped her stay focused, though most of what she was focused on was her thoughts of, 'Shut the fuck up and move this along, please.' They'd had the exact same conversation the last time too, what could possibly be so different? 'Oh yeah, you fucked me and now you feel bad.'

"So… Is that all right?" Yuuto asked, hesitantly, swirling his own glass of whiskey, slippery from sweat and condensation.

"That's all right with me," Kanoe answered, and Yuuto smiled gratefully at her.

"Sure," Satsuki replied, lazily, and Yuuto finally decided to look at her. His mouth immediately ran dry as her eyes narrowed behind her glasses and she tilted her head to the side. He wondered suddenly if this was a horrible idea, if they should hold off another night. However, before these thoughts could really take hold, Satsuki drained her glass, placed it on the floor and kissed Kanoe full on the lips.

Kanoe gasped and responded at once, closing her eyes and cupping the side of Satsuki's face to pull her closer. Yuuto's breath caught in his chest and any and all doubts, or indeed thoughts, immediately drained out of his head, rushing downwards to heat up his belly and fuel his erection. He spread his legs apart subconsciously and though he wanted more than anything to join in, he allowed himself a moment to watch.

Satsuki thrust her tongue into Kanoe's mouth and ran her hands up and down her thighs, her waist, finally cupping her breasts and feeling lace, mesh and embroidery. She pulled away so their lips were a millimeter apart. "You wore something special for me?" Satsuki asked in a low voice. She didn't actually care, nor was she remotely turned on by the contact, but she knew Yuuto was watching and how much he'd be enjoying it. 'Pathetic,' she thought, even as the ensuing rush of power sent heat between her legs. Kanoe laughed softly and licked playfully under Satsuki's top lip.

"You want to see?" she breathed. Satsuki smirked.

"Yes." Kanoe got to her feet and Yuuto let out a low guttural moan, his erection twitching excitedly as he stared between them, unable to pick one thing to focus on, until he locked eyes with Satsuki. Her smirk widened, and her eyes flashed behind her glasses before she turned to stare at Kanoe instead, watching her undo her dress and slide it down to pool around her ankles. She looked beautiful: the matching bra, panties and garter belt holding up fine black stockings were all of a luxurious black lace embellished with intricate embroidery. She stood still a moment in her lingerie and high heels, drinking in their stares, though Yuuto was already looking past the fabric to her perfect body beneath it. Satsuki could appreciate the view aesthetically, and it was made all the more appealing by a rush of superiority: she didn't need to rely on such things. However, underneath these thoughts her stomach did shrivel just a little as she stood up, took her hair down and undressed too, revealing a sports bra and underwear that didn't match.

Fortunately, before she could think about it too much, Yuuto began to get undressed too. Both women immediately stepped forward to help. Kanoe unbuttoned his shirt and wrapped her arms around him to pull him into a kiss while Satsuki eased it off from behind and pressed herself up against his back. She closed her eyes for a moment and rubbed the side of her face between his shoulder blades, shivering as her inner walls, and heart, gave a hopeful throb. However, she caught herself and refocused at once, bringing her hands down to try and undo his pants, only to find them scrabbling against the backs of Kanoe's.

Yuuto moaned, the hand that wasn't squeezing Kanoe's ass reaching blindly for Satsuki. He'd be lying if he said he didn't love this, having two gorgeous women kissing and touching him, and even though he wanted to reciprocate, they were both so different and so amazing and- "Oh fuck!" he gasped, breaking his and Kanoe's kiss to toss his head back as Satsuki took hold of his erection. Her inner walls gave another hopeful throb as she felt how hard he was, as she thought of how good he felt everywhere even with another person there.

"What do you want?" Kanoe breathed, her hands palming Yuuto's chest. He squeezed her ass at the same time Satsuki began to stroke his erection, making him shudder and gasp.

"Fuck, I," he continued to grope blindly for Satsuki and she sped up her strokes, feeling incredibly powerful and excited all of a sudden.

"You want me to go down on you," she answered for him.

"Oh god!" He looked at her over his shoulder and gently cupped the side of her face. They locked eyes, and sudden, unexpected tenderness rushed through them like an electric charge. Her face was so pretty, and her hair that was usually pulled back in a ponytail was hanging around it in waves. Emotion surged up between them, making Satsuki's mouth run dry. His eyes shone in the soft light from the bedside table lamp, and he was so handsome, and still wanted her despite his gorgeous wife… Satsuki kissed him hard on the lips and it set her whole body on fire. She knew a sudden, deep longing for him, and knew also that she needed it now and wouldn't settle for anything less.

Yuuto felt transported by her passion and kissed her back just as fiercely, swaying slightly in both sets of arms, until Satsuki pulled away, leaving him gasping, but then just as quickly Kanoe began to kiss his neck. "Lie down," Satsuki commanded through clenched teeth.

"Mm," Kanoe breathed against his flushed skin, smiling at Satsuki appreciatively. Yuuto shivered, but nodded, and both women withdrew. They stood side by side, Kanoe twirling her hair around her finger with a deeply satisfied look on her face while Satsuki crossed her arms in front of her chest, her expression appraising. Yuuto blushed and gave a rather embarrassed laugh as he undressed completely. The sound tugged at Satsuki's heart, but she ignored it, distracted as he lay down on the bed, naked, his legs spread and arms above his head, the smooth lines of his body delicious in the soft light.

Kanoe moaned, lay down beside him at once and kissed him soundly on the lips. Yuuto groaned appreciatively and wrapped his arms tight around her, his hands all over her smooth skin and silky hair. He gripped her lace covered ass and slipped his first two fingers into her panties, shuddering excitedly at how wet she was. "Oh!" she cried out, also shivering and shifting her hips to grind against his fingers.

'Do you ever stop performing?' Satsuki thought, contemptuously, even as her body longed for the sensation. She forced the feelings away and climbed into bed, settling herself between Yuuto's spread legs, eyes fixed upon his erection rather than on him passionately kissing Kanoe. With another agreeable rush of power and contempt she reminded herself how much better she was at this than Kanoe. Yuuto had never said so explicitly, but he'd certainly told her with his reactions. She leaned forward, took hold of his erection and licked it up from base to tip. Yuuto felt a shock of arousal through his body and moaned into Kanoe's mouth, his toes curling and thighs seizing up. 'That's right,' Satsuki thought, smirking and repeating the move.

"Oh god," Yuuto moaned, still holding tight to Kanoe, though the wet, teasing sensations were distracting him from pleasing her. Satsuki licked up his length again, then paused at the tip to swirl her tongue around, to taste the precum already oozing forth. She shivered and closed her eyes, her inner walls giving yet another hopeful throb as Yuuto groaned and finally pulled away from Kanoe to watch. She immediately buried her face in his neck, kissing and sucking and biting while running her hand up and down his chest. Satsuki paused and pressed the tip of her tongue deliberately against the deliciously sensitive spot just under the head of his erection and sucked hard. He let out a soft, whimpering moan and reached for the side of her face. They locked eyes again, and for the briefest moment that same intense longing flooded the space between them. However, this time it was tinged with something darker that immediately threatened to deflate Yuuto's erection and made Satsuki feel suddenly sick.

Fortunately, before either feeling could really kick in, Kanoe pulled Yuuto once more into a feverish kiss, shattering their connection. Satsuki's stomach clenched around the jagged aftermath and she returned to her task at once. She sucked him up and down, slowly but deliberately, and he cried out into Kanoe's mouth and thrust his hips upwards. The hot, wet pressure sent waves of pleasure out through every nerve of his body. He felt gripped, paralyzed, Kanoe's kisses suddenly threatening to overwhelm him. He let go of her and splayed out on his back, his thighs trembling.

"Like that!" he managed to moan, and Satsuki exhaled sharply through her nose while Kanoe cried out in excitement. Satsuki kept going, sucking him hard, but slow, and yet again came that glorious and deeply arousing rush of power as Yuuto yielded to her completely despite having his arm around his wife. With his free hand he reached overhead and gripped his pillows, his knuckles whitening as Satsuki changed her angle slightly. "Oh fuck yeah!"

"Mm," Satsuki groaned around his erection in spite of herself. She knew this angle, she knew all his hot spots. She did.

Yuuto opened his eyes blearily and stared down at Satsuki, dimly aware of Kanoe kissing his neck, whispering in his ear, rocking her hips back and forth as if grinding against the air. Had he been less absorbed in his own pleasure, he might have thought of pleasing her again. However, he was too focused on Satsuki, and almost as if she could sense it, she met his gaze. Yet again the space between them was thick with that dark, painful longing.

Satsuki wrapped her fingers around the base of his erection and took her mouth away, stroking him instead. The deeply pleasurable tension gripping Yuuto's body eased slightly, leaving him gasping, but distracted enough to stay hard. He shut his eyes tight and pulled Kanoe into another heated, desperate kiss that turned Satsuki's stomach. Exhaling sharply through her nose, she dove back in, sucking him hard, but faster now, just how she knew he liked it.

Immediately his thighs began to shake and she swallowed a spurt of precum as his erection throbbed in her mouth. Yuuto moaned hard into Kanoe's kiss and yet again his free hand was gripping tight to the pillows above his head. His mind was spinning and white hot pleasure was coursing through his veins. The pressure inside him was almost painful, and his erection stiffened as he pulled out of the kiss to stare once more at Satsuki.

"I'm gonna come!" he cried, his expression desperate and voice constricted. Satsuki groaned without meaning to and kept going, feeling suddenly desperate herself. The pressure and tension built gloriously and Yuuto's entire body stiffened, then released in an unmistakably intense orgasm. His erection throbbed against Satsuki's tongue as he spilled himself into her mouth. For a moment, she closed her eyes to relish the sensation, his pleasure, his taste. When she opened them it was to find him kissing Kanoe again, but it wasn't the desperate, needy kisses from before. It was soft. Tender. Loving.

It was like a lit match on the fury inside Satsuki waiting to catch fire. She straightened up and spat Yuuto's cum all over his deflating erection. He cried out and his eyes shot open, the action like another powerful electric shock, so strong it was almost enough to get him hard again. He stared down between his legs, his mouth hanging open, then slowly raised his gaze to Satsuki.

She gave him a cold smile that was so tense with anger her jaw was starting to hurt, or maybe that was just from sucking him too hard. However, her anger was fueling, powerful and gratifying, and her eyes glittered with it. Yuuto said nothing, just continued to stare, and even as what she'd done turned him on so much it was enough to make him dizzy, he knew by her expression that something was very, very wrong. He felt as though his stomach, heart and lungs had disappeared, leaving his chest echoing. Kanoe was saying something, but it was just background noise, until she dove forward and began to lick him clean. Yuuto shut his eyes tight and threw his head back with a cry, the sensation almost sharp on his oversensitive skin. Kanoe groaned theatrically and Satsuki seethed with contempt.

'You like my sloppy seconds?' she thought, spitefully, not troubling to remind herself that she would only ever be getting sloppy seconds under these circumstances.

---

After returning to the other dorm, Karen had gone straight to bed while Yuzuriha, Keiichi, Hokuto and Kakyo spent another hour or so on the porch, talking and drinking water to try and combat the effects of the punch. The conversation was as light and easy as the chatter of insects around them, and Yuzuriha fell silent after a while, content to listen to Keiichi and Hokuto and watch Kakyo stare enraptured at her. She wasn't sure if Hokuto didn't see him or if she was ignoring him, because she herself only chanced glances at Kakyo when he wasn't looking. Why though? Everyone was aware of Kakyo's feelings for Hokuto, and Yuzuriha was sure she was too. Therefore, she assumed if Hokuto wasn't addressing them, it must be for a good reason.

Yuzuriha's thoughts, as they so often did, strayed to Kusanagi. Were her feelings also that obvious? And, if so, was he aware of them and ignoring them too? Or did he just not pay her enough attention to really take notice? She couldn't decide which was worse, so she announced to her castmates that she was turning in as well.

"You can share my bed," Hokuto told her. "And Keiichi, you can take Subaru's."

"I must remember to thank him," Keiichi replied, grinning, and got to his feet too. "This is such an awesome cast, I'm so grateful!"

"You're so sweet, Keiichi," said Hokuto, ruffling his hair.

"I try!" And with that, he and Yuzuriha headed upstairs to bed, leaving Hokuto and Kakyo on the porch in silence.

"Did you have fun?" Hokuto asked, quietly, after a few minutes, her face shining in the diffuse yellow porch light and her eyes wide and beautiful. Kakyo sighed contentedly, all the corners of his mind and heart still smoothed by the alcohol.

"I did," he said, then, for what felt like the thousandth time that summer, "thank you for bringing me here." She beamed.

"You're very welcome!" Kakyo's heart swelled in his chest, but the words didn't seem like nearly enough to convey his the depth of all he was feeling.

"Really, you're… You've done so much for me, and I…" His voice trailed away into the night. Hokuto was still smiling, but she felt her stomach contract, sending words up her throat.

"I'm happy to do it." Kakyo smiled warmly and genuinely at her. 'He's gotten so much better…' Her stomach contracted guiltily again. "I should get to bed too," she said, after a moment. She stood up, but Kakyo reached out and took her hand. Hokuto froze, her entire being focused on his sweaty palm in her own.

"Wait a moment?" Hokuto's heart began to pound, blocking any excuse she might have made. She didn't move, and Kakyo stood up too, still holding tight to her hand. Normally he'd never ty to wrangle his words to talk about how he was feeling, particularly with something this large and intense, but punch induced bravery made him want to try. "Hokuto, I think you're the most incredible person I've ever met," he said, the words coming out far more clearly than either of them would have expected. "I'm not sure what it means, but," he swallowed and squeezed her hand. "You're so much more than a friend to me, I…" An excited shiver ran through his body and he paused, looking as usual to Hokuto to guide him, his heartbeat pounding in their clasped hands. "I feel like you saved my life, and…" His voice trailed away, and once again his words were absorbed by the night.

"That's very sweet," Hokuto said, softly, after who knew how long. "But, I think it'd be best if we finished this conversation tomorrow."

"What?" Kakyo cried, bewildered and alarmed, shattering the tension like breaking glass. "Wait, I-"

"Kakyo, please," she begged, quietly. "For both our sakes, let's have this conversation when we can think clearly?" The edges of Kakyo's mind were sharpening again as his inner warmth and contentment began to drain away. In the new space, he felt empty. Pointless. Sad. Familiar. Was this wrong? He'd allowed her to guide him so far, had he suddenly veered off their shared course? Or were they ever on a shared course to begin with?

"Right," he said, softly, because he couldn't think of anything else to say. "Okay, sorry." They were still holding hands. "I wasn't trying to-"

"Let's go to sleep, it's been a long day," Hokuto soothed, and Kakyo just nodded, a lump rising up in his throat.

She led him by the hand back into the dark kitchen and up the stairs, their footsteps creaking eerily in the darkness and silence. They paused at the landing. All of the bedroom doors leading off it were closed except Kakyo's, and the moonlight pouring through the windows above his bed lit up Hokuto's face. Even now, she was beautiful, and the lump in Kakyo's throat was painful and his heartbeat was sharp in his chest. He tried to tell her goodnight, but the words wouldn't come, trapped in his throat as it constricted still further. Fortunately, Hokuto saved him the trouble.

"Good night. Sleep well." Kakyo nodded and she let go of his hand. He backed slowly into his room. At the same time, they both reached for his doorknob to close it. Their hands touched, and they withdrew at once. Hokuto forced a smile. "Sorry! Sweet dreams!" Kakyo just nodded and shut the door, leaving her alone on the now pitch dark landing.

Hokuto remained still, staring at the closed door and listening for anything worrying. However, all she heard was Kakyo sigh and fall into bed. She stayed there until she was as sure as she could be that he was asleep. Not that she'd been planning on going in. Of course, the moment this thought occurred to her, she envisioned herself opening the door, climbing into bed beside him and waking him…

She shuddered, not in disgust or aversion, but something else entirely. She closed her eyes and held her face in her hands. It surely wasn't guilt. She had no reason to feel guilty. 'He doesn't like me, he likes what I've done for him,' she tried to reassure herself, though the words had the opposite effect. Her throat burned and she pressed her hands so hard into her eyes that colors bloomed in the blackness. Did that actually bother her? Was that really how she felt?

It hadn't ever occurred to her before, because she always made it a point not to get involved that way with friends, especially not friends she was trying to help. There was no reason Kakyo should be any different. 'Get some sleep,' she told herself. 'This is all just punch talking.' Hokuto forced her eyes open and entered her own room as quietly as she could.

Yuzuriha was lying in her bed, curled up on her side and facing away from the door. Hokuto could tell she was still awake, but didn't disturb her. She got into her night clothes and lay back to back with her, her chest still painfully constricted and her eyes wide and staring unseeingly across the room.

Kakyo was so much better now, everyone had said so, but had she really accomplished anything by bringing him here, or was it just a bandaid on an ax wound? Or was she setting him a dangerous journey with herself as the prize? Subaru had warned her against potential consequences and questioned her motives all year, then, in May, when they were preparing to leave, "Are you actually going to give him space or just remind him to take it?"

"Stop it," she'd snapped, playfully. But now… Maybe Subaru was seeing things more clearly than she'd given him credit for. She remembered a fight, she couldn't have said which one, when he'd told her seriously to back off.

"I don't need your help!" he'd yelled across their living room. "I love you, but please! Let me do this myself!"

The first time they'd had that fight it had caused a temporary, though absolutely terrifying, rift between them. Even now it made her skin crawl to think about it. However, Kakyo just wanted to get closer, the exact opposite, but now she didn't want that? Hokuto curled in tight around herself, trying to suffocate the sudden surge of feelings in her chest. However, when they were not to be suppressed,

"Yuzuriha?"

"Hm?"

"You should tell Kusanagi how you feel." Yuzuriha stiffened and Hokuto could feel her shock in her own body, which made her feel simply awful, but it was at least distracting from whatever else was going on. However, Yuzuriha said nothing, and eventually they both fell asleep.

---

I think I speak for all of us when I say, oof.

Hokuto's my girl, but... That was rough. Also I love how Fuuma wants to say he usually has self control like, my dude no you don't, you speak impulsively all the time! And Satsuki, oh jeez. Let's see how this all resolves itself, I guess!

Also if you'd like the recipe for Yuzuriha's Death Punch, message me!

I think of reviews when I summon my kekkai, leave me some!