TITLE: Boku no Koe A Tale of Complexities

PART: Five

MAIN PAIRINGS: Sanada Genichirou x Kajimoto Takahisa and Atobe Keigo x Tezuka Kunimitsu.

SIDE PAIRINGS: Oshitari Yuushi x Mukahi Gakuto

GENRE: Yaoi (Alternate Universe/ Humour/ Angst / Romance)

DISCLAIMERS: All the series I'm referring to in this fic, as well as all the brand names and real-life studios, do not belong to me… only this twisted story does.

NOTE #1: Blah or Blah is for emphasis. /Blah/ is for conversations over the phone or flashbacks (if any). /Blah/ is for the conscience or whatever inner voice there is talking. Blah is for thoughts or random Japanese words. Some of these words are footnoted at the end of every page (I'm beginning to understand the need for footnotes in fiction. Thank you dear friend, you know who you are. XD).

NOTE #2: This is inspired by Youka Nitta's manga "Boku no Koe", hence the title, but the story is not quite the same. Special Thanks to DelusionalLady for opening this topic up while we were chatting over the phone the other day. I just have to remind you guys that this is an alternate universe fic. I am not using the characters' seiyuu, but I'm using them, as themselves dubbing other stuff (i.e. Tezuka being the seiyuu of Brad Crawford in Weiss Kreuz, etc.), and Tennis no Oujisama does exist in this world though the characters, instead of the regular names we know, are named after the real seiyuu. I'm twisted, I know. XD I'm just reminding you these to avoid confusion, should you read this fic. And yes, their ages are different here too. XD

NOTE #3: There are records corresponding to the schools in Tennis no Oujisama. They are:

Kooun Limited

BHI (Black Horse Inc.)

Teikoku Songen

MG (Masterpieces Group)

Yuushousha Studios

PT Unlimited (Polar Talents Unlimited)

Hashira Kin

Playhouse Productions

Everything will be explained as the story goes on.

NOTE #4: These are mostly from the point of views of the uke; so don't be mad that the seme do not have as much screen time.

DEDICATION: This is dedicated to all of you guys who have had this fancy eating your brains for a long while now. We have to wonder after all, how is it working as a seiyuu? I personally have seen a friend of mine work as a 'dubber' locally, and I guess, most of the stuff here is based from what I have observed as well as based from the info I have collected over the years.

DAIGOBU: OKONAI

(Fifth Part: Act)

Mukahi was crossing the street when a swish of something like air being displaced assaulted him, making him step forward unawares, and eventually, falling flat onto his face. Then, came the horrifying screech of tires and a subsequent 'falling' sound – followed by a string of colourful phrases, which he deduced as curses that rang in his ears. Slowly, with care, he stood up, knees feeling much wobbly that he was reminded of his roller-skating days. "Ow." He muttered as he saw the gashes on his arm and more on his legs. He was bleeding. Damn his brain for telling him to wear shorts this morning.

He shook his head once to clear it and squinted at the one who had caused him all the trouble.

A guy. Oh he was tall – and a mountain bike lay just as injured at his feet. He could hear him speaking rapidly, mostly to himself. It didn't sound right at all. But he shouldn't falter. Who cared if the guy was taller than he was? He was old enough to defend himself from such types, being molested by people in the train almost regularly.

"Oi!" Mukahi called out in irritation. "What do you think you're doing?"

Stiffly, the man turned to him, dark eyes flashing. "Nothing! I was doing nothing but ride my bike when you suddenly blocked my way and I had to swerve to avoid hitting you!"

Avoid hitting me? Mukahi glared angrily. "Such nerve!" He grated, stomping towards the irritating guy injuries and all. "You did not hit me alright, but look at me! I'm a mess! You don't even have a single scratch on you!"

"I don't have a single scratch because I am not scratched! I am wounded and bruised heavily!" The guy said just as angrily. "You should be thankful I did not run over you with my bike!"

"Thankful! You are the reason why I'm like this in the first place! Be apologetic for once!" Mukahi was ready to tear out his hair in frustration. I just want an apology, why won't he give it to me? It's his fault anyway!

The man didn't answer anymore. All he did was pick up what seemed to he cracked eyeglasses as well as his distended bike and walked away.

"Oi! I'm not yet finished with you! Come back here you stupid person!"

Mukahi's current adversary just gave him 'the finger' and wheeled his bike hurriedly away.

X o X o X

"Karupin did a great job with the cat voice didn't he?"

Fuji's question lurched the worry in Tezuka as he drank one of his endless cups of green tea. Although he wasn't the one being asked, he couldn't help thinking that Fuji knew what happened with Mukahi and what his connection with him leaving was.

It was not unusual – after all, it was Fuji.

"Yeah, way better if a person did the voice over." Echizen quipped insensitively with his usual lack of tact. "My Karupin is a real cat after all, not just one who looks and acts like it."

"Oi, oi." Kikumaru pouted. "Don't say stuff like that. It hurts."

"He doesn't mean you, right, Echizen?" Momoshiro broke in cheerily, grounding his fist playfully on the younger man's head.

"Itai su..."

Then the laughter.

It was that moment when Tezuka decided that he was going to check up on Mukahi's employment status... and maybe lend some help.

X o X o X

"Yuushi, I know that you're not feeling well, but you have to do this. We scheduled it a couple of weeks ago, before the flyers were given out!" Shishido was close to panicking. Hiyoshi was in charge of this project and he could see the young producer simmering with anger over Oshitari's untimely rescheduling. He knew it would not be a moment too soon when the two would come to blows – and such would injure not just one person, but two.

And then Atobe would be the one to get fired up and act all monster-like.

THAT was scary and he did not want to see it again. He had seen it only once, when he fired the guy who named himself 'Dabide' what with his failure to get serious in tapings.

"Look at me." Oshitari grumbled darkly. "I am covered with purpling bruises from head to toe and I have a cut across my cheek. I would definitely scare the people auditioning today."

"Nothing bandages couldn't fix." Hiyoshi grumbled back.

"You can find a replacement."

"I can't – the best ones are working. Only the lesser ones are available – those a little lower in talent than you."

Oshitari visibly bristled. "Are you implying that I am just a little above your standards?"

Hiyoshi levelled him with a glare. "By the looks of it, yes. You are idiotic enough to get into such a pathetic incident that you pass off as an accident."

"Why you –"

Hiyoshi turned away and walked towards the door. Then, he stopped and loosened his dress shirt enough to reveal the angry scars on his back that nearly cost him his life and fastened his buttons just as quickly before opening the door and stepping out.

As the door slammed shut, Oshitari, as Shishido observed, had a very thoughtful look on his face... and then he sighed. "Can't beat that." He muttered, turning to him, lips quirking up in a semblance of a tired smile.

"Ryo, could you possibly give me the first aid kit?"

X o X o X

"We are not limiting ourselves to being the cast for Fudomine's players, instead, we'll make a play at Hyoutei Gakuen. It comes with the package of having the most contact with the lead team, Seigaku, so that means, there would be more chances for publicity." Atobe declared, staring at the faces of each of his talents.

He was satisfied with the way they seem to respond. Ohtori was determined, and Akutagawa was, for once, very much awake and raring to get his part in the program. The four others, his business partner Sakaki, his friends Shishido and Oshitari as well as his top executive producer, Hiyoshi, he knew, were just as determined to get the slot and their respective places.

But now, Sakaki was on a business meeting and the other three were on their way to screening the company's prospective new blood. As a professor, Shishido had the ability to spy talent, and Oshitari's ability to gauge and calculate would be beneficial for their cause to find the best among the throng that would undoubtedly audition today. Hiyoshi would just be there, inspecting, recording and testing those who pass the first two's judgement.

It would be tough but it was necessary – besides they would get extra huge pay reflected in their respective accounts after the project, so they shouldn't complain. He smirked inwardly as he thought of what their first responses would be upon seeing their accounts double up.

"After this team in the series, the other interesting team that we could probably fit in would be Rikkai-dai Fuzoku, but we are competing with Yuushousha Studios for that position, so we must snag Hyoutei from the other companies vying for the spot. MG and PTU are making a play for it as well, and I don't want them to desecrate such desirable characters. I will give you the information you need through the database I will upload tonight, so you can review for the characters you want to audition for." Atobe continued. "However, internal auditions would commence when we have a list of the new people the company would acquire in three days time so it would be fair to everyone. Am I clear?"

There was no complaint. Everyone knew that when Atobe said something, he meant it. That was why almost everyone respected him and his businesslike ways. He was indeed a true epitome of an effective and efficient company owner.

As he received an almost unitary agreement, he leant back on his plush seat and closed his eyes, a small, smug smile playing on his lips.

Wait for me, Tezuka... I'll show you what I can do, just you wait.

X o X o X

Frankly, Tezuka was apprehensive about his role. He knew people liked his character, for all the doujinshi he was seeing sold in comic book stores; however, the lack of lines was grating his nerves.

Why was it that his character's only significance was to stand there all stoic and be all too stern? He was not happy with it – at all. Especially now that people were starting to liken him to the cartoon character. It was disturbing for him. Was he really that anal-retentive? Momoshiro though so... and he knew that the guy's observations were ninety percent correct. Yamato put in a good word for him as the character to play the part as well, so that meant he was the best person for the job.

But then again, he did that after his row with him so Tezuka thought it was a form of revenge, not being provided the necessary amount of lines to maximise his talent in voice acting. Now he was thinking that Slam Dunk had been too generous to him for all the screen time he got playing Mitsui.

He sighed. It was no use dwelling over it since he was already appointed for the role and he hated doing something and leaving it unfinished. Being responsible over something important never killed anyone – well, okay, it always did, but he was quite sure it was not going to kill him anytime soon.

But how can I perform when I don't even like what I'm doing?

For the first time in his life, he questioned his decision to be a voice actor.

X o X o X

"You seem depressed."

Kajimoto started as a voice sounded right beside him. Abruptly, he straightened and coloured as he realised who it was. "Sanada-san! What are you doing here?" He picked up his table napkin and started shredding them unconsciously, eyes staring right at the newcomer.

Sanada's eyebrow shot up, taking notice of the unintentional agitation and wondered why he was being so worked up. Probably about his yaoi projects again... stressing over them as usual. He gave him a slight smile and gestured towards the noisy table on the far end of the coffee shop. "Starbucks coffee wouldn't be good without excellent company."

Kajimoto followed his gesture and stared at the group that seemed more of a fight club rather than a bunch of friends hanging out talking. Is he referring to them? He thought, aghast. There's no way I'm going to sit with them – I'd rather stay here...

"Them?"

"Yes."

"Are you kidding?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"Unfortunately, no."

"What?"

"I said, no."

"What are you saying no for, me not looking like I'm joking, or about you joining us?"

"Both."

Sanada gazed at him thoughtfully for a few moments before grabbing his arm with one hand and his coffee in the other. "Right." He started as he hauled him up, his gaze turning forceful as Kajimoto started to sputter in protest. "I don't usually joke around... and I don't take no for an answer either."

"O-oi!"

"Unfortunately."

Kajimoto couldn't do anything but let himself be dragged away. It was pointless to argue with someone with such forceful attitude. Maybe Sanada was a football coach in his past life or something. Soon enough, he was presented to the rambunctious group he dreaded sitting with.

"This is –"

"Ah! I know who you are!" An energetic, yet somewhat muted voice cried out, intense eyes fixed on him, "You are Kijimoto-san from MG!"

Sweat beaded Kajimoto's forehead. He got my name wrong... is this an omen of some sort... that I would never be known in this industry...?

"Wrong-o Marui!" The dark-skinned guy sitting just across him laughed loudly. "That's Kajimoto Takahisa-san you dolt!"

"Right-o!" The one called Marui grinned apologetically, settling himself deeper into the single wing sofa beside a small empty loveseat. "I'm sure it isn't a big deal, right?"

"Right." He said softly. At that, he felt everyone stiffen, and he realised that they were all staring at him – even Yanagi Renji, who usually had his eyes closed were blatantly staring at him. It was unnerving, and he was sure that if Sanada was not holding him up by the arm, he would've slithered down on the floor like a snake in embarrassment. He just sounded so pitiful, that was probably it. Slowly, he turned on his usual guarded look and straightened up, clearing his throat. "Right." He said, with a stronger tone.

They were still staring at him.

"What?" He asked, suddenly all too conscious.

"You sounded so unhappy... is something wrong, pu-ri?" The blond one with the dishevelled hair and ponytail asked curiously.

"It does seem like it." The bespectacled one beside him agreed, adjusting his glinting glasses wonderingly. "You seem to have... issues."

It was frightening how he said it. It almost felt like it was Mizuki saying he had issues... just like he did last night over the phone – sans the flirty voice. "I don't."

"Don't be like that!" The dark-skinned one waved his feeble attempt at saving face. "You should talk about what's bothering you or it would eat you up inside."

"That would be messy – pu-ri!"

"Indeed."

"A hundred percent."

"So munch munch tell us already!"

"What now?"

Kajimoto started at Sanada's voice beside him. He had let go, it seemed, and his arm was now smarting from the tight grip. He wondered when he loosened his hold on him. He didn't actually feel it. At the corner of his eye, he watched as he sat down on the seat between Marui and an empty seat. Silently, he nodded and lowered himself down on the vacant part of the couch.

"So..." The bespectacled one with really shiny eyeglasses leant forward and gazed at him somewhat worriedly. It was uncanny, being under the scrutiny of people at such short distances. He felt naked. It was nothing like seiyuu onstage performances at all. "How do want this to start, the easy way... or the hard way?"

Kajimoto's eyes bulged as he stared at him in disbelief. "Ah?"

Sanada butted in after a sip of his steaming latte. "Hard way is through torture. Renji is good at it, got it from Hashira Kin's Inui, I believe. Easy way is through normal interrogation."

He was suddenly scared.

What did I get myself into?

X o X o X

Mukahi shuffled in as his name was called. He didn't dare look at the ones screening him. He was afraid as to what their initial reaction upon seeing him would be. Maybe they would just look at him and cast him quickly away as someone with the look but not the talent and move on to the next person. It happened to him twice before he got into Hashira Kin, and who could guarantee that it wouldn't happen now? At the rate his luck was going, he wouldn't be able to land in a decent production companyuntil he was eighty years old.

He took a deep breath and concentrated on the monitor before him. The characters varied, and he was instructed to voice all the characters in the clip successively. It was just like what he had been instructed to do at his former company, so it was nothing new to him. Thank heavens Hashira Kin was very demanding of its talents or he would certainly fail in this.

Glancing shortly as he memorised a few lines, he turned back to the monitor and watched the pacing of the lips. English was something he enjoyed since he was young, and it was also something he enjoyed dubbing. He was good when it came to translating scripts and he prided himself to be one of those good enough for doing the voice acting for them.

He started, focusing and straining to do his very best. He felt adrenaline rushing through him and it was as if the whole world did not exist... just him, and the equipment. It was amazing, so exhilarating, so –

"That was bad."

Startled, he looked up and was about to say something in his defence when he caught sight of who said the infuriating words.

Slowly, as realisation sunk in, horror started from the pit of his stomach, his mind envisioning himself, old and living in a poor shack with twenty-seven cats.

It was the guy who nearly hit him with a mountain bike just a couple of hours ago.

X o X o X

Of course he savoured the look of utter horror on the hopeful's face. He knew just who he was, and he also knew he was older than him in this industry, though he was the one technically older by basis of birth. He could feel Hiyoshi's glare and Shishido's incredulous look but he didn't care. All he saw was the red-haired guy who blocked his way to work a couple of hours ago. Just imagine the feeling of elation that fluttered in the pit of stomach upon learning he was going to screen him. He actually had power over him now, and for what he did to him, this was just some sort of payback. Let him stew in his own juices until the whole screening process is over. He mused sadistically, schooling his features to a dissatisfied frown.

"What are you saying?" Shishido hissed, poking his side painfully. "He's good! He's popular!"

"I know. Doesn't matter." He answered clearly. The microphones were sensitive, and he knew that the guy could hear the slightest whisper. "Popularity wouldn't save him. This is a screening."

Surprisingly, Hiyoshi remained silent. And Oshitari sensed some sort of amusement coming from him. He must've seen though him, he thought wryly.

There was silence as the guy sputtered and looked embarrassed, away. He had just never seen someone actually paling when embarrassed. Oshitari's frown was now real. This person had issues, and he seemed to be aggravating it. He was wondering why when he caught sight of Hiyoshi gazing curiously at the redhead. His lips were moving, but Oshitari couldn't make his words out.

"I'm sorry." Came the long-awaited response from inside the booth. "I'm going to repeat the lines..."

Oshitari was about to give his assent when Hiyoshi shook his head.

"No, no need. We'll notify you if you pass the first phase of the screening. You may go home now." Hiyoshi's tone was thoughtful but crisp, and he nodded twice before writing something on his clipboard. Oshitari itched to know what it was, but he knew it would be shown in due time. He just had to learn how to wait.

His eyes followed the hopeful's form as he trudged out of the booth and gave them a slight bow before he opened the door and stepped wearily out. Yes, he thought. There was something really wrong with the guy.

"Yuushi!" Shishido cried out indignantly. "Why did you do that!"

"Do what?" He feigned innocence.

"You insulted him!"

"No, I didn't."

"He's Saiyuki's Mukahi Gakuto!"

"I know."

"You were evil!"

"I was not."

"Yes you were."

Both of them stopped squabbling when Hiyoshi spoke up quietly. He stared pointedly at Oshitari. "You weren't being professional. He was good, not perfect. He had flaws but nothing that couldn't be worked out, and you know it."

He stared back at him, almost nonchalantly. I know that. I watch Saiyuki and I know who he is from the events I have seen live.

"If you continue holding grudges, you are going to pass up a chance to get him into this company. Atobe would be furious with us." Hiyoshi said carefully, as his brow rose in question at the word 'us'. "He's good, I think... but we can't pass him if the decision isn't unanimous."

"I'll let you two decide on his case then. Whatever you want, I'll just follow. I'm no good a judge if I go through with this in his application, right?" He gave him a wry grin. "I just wanted him to be a bit nervous. He was being all too sure of himself back then."

Hiyoshi hmph-ed and gave him a small smile. "Whatever, Takoyaki-san."

X o X o X

"Moshi moshi." Tezuka muttered, answering his phone as he prepared to go to Teikoku Songen for a recording session.

"Tezuka-senpai."

His hands stilled, alarmed at the familiarity of the forlorn voice. "Mukahi-kun."

"Senpai... the audition." Mukahi's voice cracked. It worried him. Now was not the time to break down. There were other places where he could still apply in; it was not wise to lose heart. However, it was possible that the tasks given him were entirely too difficult. Teikoku Songen was known for their 'Climb to the Top' kind of admission-slash-promotion, maybe he just wasn't likeable enough for the screeners? All he knew was that Mukahi belonged to the upper ten percent of talented people in the industry, so there was no question as to his performance, no matter how hard the audition process was.

"Yes...?" He placed the phone on his ear and held it in place with his shoulder as he buttoned his shirt on.

"It went... well." Came the lame response.

"You're lying." Tezuka retorted flatly, fingering the last button and slipping it through the pre-made hole. I hate buttons. "Tell me. It was bad, wasn't it?"

"Actually, senpai, it was going great." Mukahi answered, sounding so defeated that he felt sympathy for him. "Until that guy said what I did was bad."

That guy? Tezuka's brows went up as he grabbed his socks and pulled them on. I knew it. It wasn't his fault. He's too good to be turned down – or told off. "That guy – said you were bad." He said slowly, voice softening. "Were you?"

"I... no." Mukahi's tone turned thoughtful. He could practically hear the wheels turning in his head and it made the corners of his lips twitch up. There was still the confidence and it would be his doorway to other opportunities – maybe even better ones than Teikoku Songen if ever he was indeed, not accepted. "No. I was good." He repeated, with more conviction now than before.

"In fact, I was perfect!" The younger man was practically hyped up by then, and Tezuka couldn't help but smile.

He made a small sound of approval. "That's good. You did well, that's what matters. Remember who and what you are – and start from there."

"Yes, senpai. Thank you – wait! Let's have coffee together!"

His smile widened. "Dinner." He corrected, slipping his feet into his pair of black high-tops. "At around nine in the evening, after my recording. How does that sound?"

"Great! My song recording isn't until eight thirty, so I can definitely make it."

"You can come to my house, Ruriko will be here with the babysitter. I'll tell her that her Uncle Goku is coming over. She'll be very happy."

"Who else is coming over?"

"Just you... and whoever you want to bring with you." He conceded, keys jangling in his hand as he strode out of the front door.

"Even Mizuki?" Mukahi asked tentatively. Mizuki was not necessarily bad company, but he was someone who irritates almost everyone with his all-knowing laughter. Tezuka, however, was not one of those people, so it didn't matter to him one bit.

"Yes. Even Mizuki. Even Morikawa-san. Even Kusao-san. Even Seki-san and Hirata-san (1)." Meticulously as he could with a mobile phone situated in his ear, he locked the door and pocketed his keys. Making sure that the house was secure, he grasped the phone and switched it to the other ear, rotating his stiff shoulder. "No problem at all."

"Great!" Mukahi chuckled. "See you later, Tezuka-senpai – and I hope to see Ruri-chan too! Your kid is really cute!"

"Oh, ask Marui-kun when he's coming over, would you?"

"Eh? Bun-chan? Why? Did he eat you out of your bonus like he did last time?" There was concern in his kouhai's voice.

"No."

"Then why –"

"Ruri's asking when he'd come back. It seems she thought of him as her boyfriend after they were introduced a couple of weeks ago."

"EH!"

"Apparently, they both commiserated over poorly-made pastries and got along really well."

X o X o X

"Don't you find recording yaoi dramas amazing?"

Kajimoto flinched from the unexpected question from a very thoughtful Jackal. Of them all, he was the one with much experience making them. It was scary, since no one would imagine he would be doing such ecchi things with the way he looked. His Brazilian heritage must be crying out in protest. He didn't seem to mind it much... it was either he was nonchalant about his projects, he was used to it, or he was... Sure of his sexuality.

I'm worrying about it... does that mean I'm unsure of what my preference is? He felt like he was doused with icy water. Have I been lying to myself all along and... and... my marriage is just... NO. It isn't. I loved my wife... I love her still... and my children, I will never regret them being born, they are my only... WHAT AM I THINKING? Maybe my late wife's right; maybe I am sticking too much to society's norm, that's why I'm so affected by all of this...

Sanada peered at his dumbstruck form above the rim of his cup. He's lost it. He decided with finality. Somehow, it disappointed him. He did not know exactly why, but he had an inkling as to why it was. He had begun to unravel the source of all his fascination when it came to him and it was such a pity that there were things that Kajimoto still couldn't accept. He wasn't as open as he initially thought he was... nor knowledgeable.

Giving himself a consoling pat mentally, he set down his cup. "We have to get going." He said, standing up and slinging his coat on his shoulder in emphasis. "We have a recording in ten minutes."

"Teikoku?" Niou asked curiously. "I thought you're free for the afternoon? I thought – ow! That hurts!" He glared at the bespectacled one's serious features. "Yagyuu. You are mean."

"Just to you, Masaharu, just to you." Yagyuu Hiroshi sighed, pushing up his glasses with his middle finger. While Niou debated internally on whether he had just insulted him, the other, with a gentle hand, patted the dazed Kajimoto and gave him a small smile. "Kajimoto-san, you have to go now. King's orders."

Sanada gave him a murderous look, which made Marui and Jackal snicker.

Renji just shook his head in amusement. Yes, Yagyuu is indeed scary. He thought. Yagyuu seemed to be someone who took everything in stride, someone who was not knowledgeable of anything regarding other people and their lives. But in fact, he probably was the wisest and the brightest of them all.

It was enough to make Kajimoto snap to attention. "What?"

"King Sanada said you both have recordings in a few minutes at Teikoku Songen." Yagyuu said almost indulgently.

"But I don't have a recording –"

"You have one." Sanada interrupted, grabbing hold of his arm and hauling him upwards, much like the same way he did when he dragged him to their table. "With me."

Jackal whistled, turning away just in time to avoid the particularly dangerous glare sent his way. Marui giggled some more, trying to smother the sound with a tissue.

The flurry of movements was watched in amusement, and soon, the two were gone, leaving behind five snickering people with six cold cups of previously hot coffee.

Of course, as per usual, Marui had two.

X o X o X

Quiet moments like these were what he was hoping for everytime he entered a recording studio. He was used to this, the metallic scent of the equipments, the comforting smell of leather seats... and the complete silence of the recording booth.

It had been his habit to arrive early and immerse himself in the quiet solitude of the recording booth. The soundproofed walls made him feel more secure... as if they would keep whatever secret he would blurt out impulsively, as if they would protect him from the churning fire of society's rigid codes. In here he could be himself.

In here he didn't have to pretend.

In here, he was not the co-owner of the production company.

In here he was simply himself.

The man who went by the name of Atobe Keigo.

Atobe Keigo was a very proud man, with clear-cut views and codes in life. He lived by his own rules and there was no denying him. It was embedded in him, that sort of arrogance, and it was what he elaborated on outside. He had to keep himself from letting slip that he was still human... that he had a heart – and a big one at that.

He could remember Sakaki telling him that he was becoming soft as time passed, and that pretty soon he would be at the beck and call of his employees and not the other way around as was the norm. But was the norm the only thing existing? What was the norm anyway? It was only a standard, a means of comparison, something that was ordinary, holding all things constant – ceteris paribus, as Shishido, the Perfect Professor once uttered in one of their usual dinnertime debates.

It wouldn't kill him to conform sometimes now, would it?

He sat down on the carpeted floor, closing his eyes as he leant back against the softness of the soundproofing. With his foot, he pushed the door close.

He felt very much alone.

People who treaded on normalcy were having more fun than he was – the really good kind, the fun that made them constantly laugh, eyes brimming with boundless happiness. He found himself wishing that he were like them... that he was that happy even just once in his life. It was an absurd wish, but he found himself wishing for it hard enough – God, he hoped it was hard enough to come true.

He might not look it, but yes, he was indeed... utterly, horribly lonely. He wasn't lacking when it came to friendship, but that was a different kind of love. It was brotherly, and only eased a small part of him. However, there was still a huge hole left, and he wanted it stuffed – with anything, just to keep himself from hurting. He tried to make himself feel better by engaging in productive activities, going out clubbing – and making himself feel important.

It eased his loneliness alright, but the effects were temporary.

So temporary that he actually fixated on things just to keep his emotions busy.

And now, he was fixated on something – or rather, someone, who didn't seem to want to do anything with him. Tezuka Kunimitsu, for all his courage working in such stressful and competitive environment, was avoiding him. Did he actually think he was so blind as to have not seen through him? He was avoiding him like the plague and it frustrated Atobe – what's more, it frustrated him that he could do nothing to get himself close enough.

It was like... he was losing a battle that had not even started.

And he felt even lonelier...

CREAK.

It was the sudden sound of the booth door opening that made him start. His eyes snapped open and his body automatically took on a defensive crouch after scooting further back. It took him a moment to clear his disorientation and realise who it was staring just as dumbly back at him.

"Atobe."

Slowly, his body relaxed.

Speak of the devil...

"Tezuka. What are you doing here?"

X o X o X

Tezuka's initial thought was that the venue changed. However, it seemed as if everyone was late when he stared at the postings on the corkboard nailed on the wooden door. Sighing, he shuffled inside, trying to ease his growing irritation.

Of all the times to be late, it had to be today. Grimacing as his sock-covered foot hit the edge of the leather seat, he decided that pacing while he waited was not a good idea. His eyes strayed to the recording booth. He knew that it would provide some sort of peace, being in there – and he needed it after all the thinking he was doing.

Feeling older at every step, he finally reached the door and touched it gingerly with the tips of his fingers, running them almost in awe at such opulent materials that composed it. Atobe Keigo sure was rich to have afforded all these.

His hand dropped to his side and he turned, leaning against the wooden wall beside the door. He knew that everything looked amazing inside the booth even without taking a peek through the clear glass windows on the other side. Money did a lot of things for the area and it would have brought him great joy to work in such space.

However, a larger problem superimposed on all the awe.

The owner.

Or to be precise, his problem with the owner.

He didn't know when it all started, maybe when he first saw him... or maybe when he first did a recording with him.

Atobe Keigo made him feel insecure.

It was the talent, effortlessly streaming out of him. He hadn't been in an acting school, nor had he been educated to please thousands of adoring fans and give them what they want. He seemed to have an innate talent for it, and it was probably what made him uneasy. Tezuka was there not because he was talented.. he was there because he was good at what he did. And he was good at what he did because he worked hard for it.

Contrary to popular belief, he was not talented.

He was skilled – and there laid the difference.

Talent was inborn and all it needed was honing. Atobe had that. Tezuka, however, was a different story. He remembered becoming a voice actor mainly out of want – out of need. He was out to prove his worth to his parents... to himself. He did not want to live a normal life. He wanted to do something different, something that made him millions of years apart from everyone and excel at it. So he worked hard, perfected everything there was to perfect in his chosen profession. They said his voice was deep and almost melodic, and that was what made him decide since not many have such voice. He didn't consider it a talent – since there was nothing talent-worthy about it. It was just him... just his normal voice.

There were times when he felt like throwing a huge fit in the duration of his training. His frustration stemmed from small mistakes over intonation and pitch. He punished himself by not eating dinner when he did not achieve his goal for the day. If anyone knew, he was sure he would be deemed pathetic. But it was his chance to become his own person... a chance to be different. He wanted it so bad that he sometimes found himself resenting people who were different than he was. The more different they were, the more misgiving he felt. He didn't express it but it was there. If he elaborated on such emotion, he would have many enemies for sure, and he didn't want to jeopardise everything he built for himself.

It was for the sole reason that Atobe was the person whom he always wanted to be that he felt himself widening the distance between them. He realised that Atobe was the epitome of the person he wanted to be. He had all the qualities he wanted to possess – the confidence, the strong presence, the airy atmosphere... the seemingly tight ties he had with various people... and of course, the attractiveness that seemed to heighten the level of every aforementioned quality.

And he couldn't quite get it out of his head that Atobe was younger than he was and less experienced in the industry and yet he was in demand at present. At his age of twenty-eight years, and being a seiyuu for about two years, he had accomplished so much, whereas Tezuka, in his first two years, had difficulty since the industry hadn't boomed this much yet.

It was ridiculous. He was a seiyuu since he was nineteen and now, he was thirty. He had been in the industry for eleven years, and yet someone who was in the business for less than two years was getting on his nerves. He opened his eyes and decided that it was imperative for him to continue brooding inside the booth. If someone suddenly walked in and saw him like this, he would never live it down. Steadying himself, he straightened and grasped the door handle. With careful movements, he pulled at it and took a step forward.

He would've taken another if not for the fact that someone else apparently beat him to it.

He couldn't believe his eyes as a momentary glimpse of depression assaulted his senses. The need to comfort suddenly kicked in for all the misery he witnessed. In just a couple of moments, he felt that way – until recognition dawned. His eyes widened in both surprise and shock.

"Atobe." He muttered, as the other got into a defensive crouch, ready to strike the moment he took another step closer. Atobe was disoriented, Tezuka was sure of it as said person took a careful scoot backwards, composing himself in the process.

"Tezuka. What are you doing here?"

He took a step back. "I... have an audition."

"Oh." Atobe seemed thoughtful, and then he nodded in comprehension. "TeniPuri. I have one too."

"I see."

Silence.

"They are going to be late. They called me up this morning. Recording isn't in half an hour." Atobe shrugged and sat down again, resembling some Japanese feudal lord from the past. With a fluid motion, he beckoned and patted the space right beside him. Those eyes were latched onto him again it seemed. He felt shivers run up and down his spine once again, and internally, he debated as to whether he should make a run for it or bite the bullet and just sit like he was asked – no – told to do.

Suddenly, Tezuka felt tired.

Resentment or not, he was tired dodging. If he did not resolve this need for him to stay away from him, he knew he wouldn't last long and would be forced to quit. If he did that, what was he, who was he going to be? Taking a deep inaudible breath, he decided to take his chances.

And he took a step forward, shutting the booth door behind him.

X o X o X

"Sanada-san, you're kidnapping me, aren't you?"

"What makes you think that?"

"The fact that you dragged me off to a place I don't know with only the two of us proves that you are kidnapping me."

Sanada gave him a stern look. "And I dragged you off in plain view of millions of people. I'm not foolish enough to do that if I'm a kidnapper."

"See, you're admitting you are."

"I'm not admitting anything. I just said if. You're thinking too much."

Kajimoto glared at him. "I don't have a recording, so why did you make me come here?"

"You're contradicting your own words. I didn't drag you, I just made you come here... a push of sorts."

"You did not push me, Sanada-san. You pulled me."

"And you know where we are, so it's not kidnapping."

"Yes it is, even if that's true, fact still remains that you dragged me here against my will."

"You have no will."

Tense silence.

"Excuse me?"

"You have no will." Sanada repeated flatly.

"What did you say?" Kajimoto gaped at him in disbelief.

"Do you want me to repeat what I just said? Well then, I said you have no –"

"NO!" Kajimoto protested.

"You have no will."

"Will you please stop repeating that!"

"Fine, I won't." Sanada conceded. "But I'm just telling the truth."

Kajimoto sat on one of the swivel chairs in the room. He seemed thoughtful, almost brooding. It was as if he took what had just been said so negatively and he was now going to start his own version of the hara-kiri.

"Sanada-san..."

"Hmm?"

"Why did you say I have no will?"

The question was laced with the tone of defeat, and it made Sanada's insides twist. He had never heard such woeful sound since... Seiichi. He closed his eyes and leant against the wall right next to where Kajimoto sat. "I feel like you won't have the will to take whatever it is to take to be better at your profession. You have no will to improve."

"But I do have the will to improve, that's why I'm working so hard to –"

"If you are, you shouldn't let petty things concern you."

"Petty things?"

"Recording yaoi dramas."

Kajimoto's mouth shut immediately.

"You don't realise that they are part of your work. For you they have no real meaning, no worth and that's why you are hesitant to work on them." Sanada closed his eyes wearily. "They have worth, Kajimoto-kun. They test the endurance and creativity of a voice actor. They hone the skill of an actor to give life to something that is deemed taboo. Personally, I think it's better if all male voice actors go through such recordings.

Recording and how you do your recording – that's what makes a great seiyuu. If you don't have the versatility to do impersonations of things alien to you, then you can never succeed. You have the skill, but you lack the will to do whatever it takes to improve on your techniques, on your work, on your person."

"I don't get it, Sanada-san. What do I get from accepting BL offers? They are just perverse dramas loved by homosexuals... and women, as case may be. I have no interest in them..." Kajimoto pushed his bangs away from his eyes in sheer bewilderment. "I know it's part of what I should do, but..."

"But you don't like it."

"Yes."

"Endurance."

"Sanada-san?"

"Control."

"...?"

"Versatility."

"...!"

"Kajimoto-kun, I'm not talking about sex." Sanada chuckled, eyes snapping open as he realised what the other's scandalised silence meant. "I'm talking about you – and your voice talent. While recording, you are exposed to a world you do not know, and that's where creativity kicks in, how you go through it without bastardising the quality of your work. You are also trained to endure things that may be disturbing to you... such as, in this case, men having sex or any kind of relationship with another man. You are to control the conditioned response a person normally has upon hearing steamy sex scenes, and if you go through it with no problem, you are fit enough to do anything... and that means that you have come from hell and back so you are one of the best voice actors out there."

"You seem to know much about it... have you made one?" The other quipped wryly.

"No, I haven't, but Seiichi had a couple of times."

"Seiichi?"

"My best friend."

Kajimoto cocked his head, thinking of some one named Seiichi. "I don't recall hearing his name around here... I thought great voice actors do –"

"He died nine months after his first voice acting stint." Sanada murmured ruefully. "He might have been greater if he.."

"I'm sorry..."

"Seiichi – he had the same issues you do, but he endured it and was well-equipped enough to start out and let the world know who he was when tragedy struck and he suddenly got sick. Turned out, he had an incurable nervous system disease and he died a couple of months later. What I told you a while ago... that was what he told me after he conquered his fear... the exact same words."

He turned to him, eyes covered with watery film. It seemed as if he was ready to cry but was holding his tears back. It was a valiant effort in his part, but Kajimoto knew from experience that it would only take a single wayward drop and the dam would inevitably burst.

"Sanada-san..."

He watched him turn away and compose himself once again. It took a moment for him to do it and soon, he was pushing himself against the wall he was leaning on and was grabbing hold of his arm. With firmness and slight force, he pulled him closer, letting the wheels of the swivel chair whirr and transport him quickly through the short distance. Kajimoto's heart was running away from him and he was almost sure it would leave him the moment it had the chance to. Silently, he stared back as Sanada gazed at him with darkened eyes. His shoulder was smarting from the tight grip but he didn't dare speak up. All he knew was that, as strong as he was, he couldn't compare to this man and he would never win against him in any aspect – mind or body. It was pointless to try stopping him in the state he was in anyway, so he let fate twist his world.

With deliberate slowness, Sanada leant forward, eyes turning murky, and breath rushing out, skimming Kajimoto's face hotly. At one point, their noses bumped, but neither paid heed. His eyes closed in their own volition as he felt the first touch of Sanada's lips –

Between his brows.

Blushing beet red, Kajimoto opened his eyes in shock and started to push him away, thoughts muddled and reasoning incoherent.

He just didn't know if he should be thankful that the hand that was gripping his shoulder was taken away completely, or be disappointed because...

Through his haze, he heard the door open and close.

And he was alone.

X o X o X

"Have you ever wished upon a shooting star, Tezuka?"

The solemn question surprised him and he sat back, body stiffening a bit before finally relaxing. It was a non-threatening question, something that friends share... maybe eight-year-old ones, but still, friends. A small frown marred his brow. Did that make them... friends now?

Not knowing what to say, he just nodded and decided to play along. Atobe's gaze turned rueful. "What did you wish for, Tezuka? Wealth? Fame? Success?"

Tezuka remembered his childhood. He was excited then, believing that shooting stars had supernatural powers that made people's wishes come true. He was young and he wished for what every child wished for...

"Happiness." He said quietly, not understanding why he was being pulled into this bizarre conversation.

"Ah." Atobe smiled then, nodding his head once before scrutinising him further. "Did it come true then?"

Tezuka's memories crashed upon him. Snapshots of him with his friends, of him while he was working, of him and his parents, of him and his former wife, of the divorce, of the fight for the rights to take care of Ruriko...

Did it really come true?

Am I truly happy?

He blinked once, twice, until his suddenly blurry vision cleared. Then, he looked back at Atobe. "I can't say I'm not." He answered truthfully, watching almost curiously when the other nodded his head as if in understanding.

There was a comfortable sort of silence before Tezuka spoke. "You."

"Hmm?"

"What did you wish for?"

Atobe's eyes closed as if in pain as he leant back against the wall padding. "What I wished for... I can't say." He chuckled. "It's a special wish, and I don't intend to say anything about it, lest I lose the chance to grab it wholly."

"..."

"Funny, Ahn?"

He fidgeted, eyes still fixed on the closed lids, taking note of the particularly long eyelashes of inky black. "Did it come true?"

Said eyes opened, revealing glassy dark brown orbs that seemed to draw his soul out of his body.

"It took many years... but you're finally here."

TSUZUKU

A/N: One more chapter to go, and then, probably, an epilogue or a couple of side stories. I hope you liked this chapter guys, please give me feedback so I'll know if it's crappy or not. Thanks!

FOOTNOTE/S:

(1) Yes, I know you guys know who these people are.