Chapter 3 -Dreamless in Neverland

From that night onward, dates with Tsuda always ended in sex. Haruki tried keeping some resemblance of sanity by mentally calling his puppeteer by his surname. Most nights they ended up at Tsuda's penthouse, other nights, when the executive could not wait, they would drive to Haruki's apartment because it was closer to the recording studio. Thus began a new phase in their sordid affair.

Rough, embolden hands grabbed his hips and spread his butt cheeks before burying himself to the hilt. "You feel so good, Haruki!" The devil whined as he worshipped his back.

Haruki only grunted in response and hid his face in the pillow as their punishing rhythm picked up. Tsuda helped him by pushing his head down into the smothering veil.

"God! You're tight!"

Sometimes Tsuda got talkative during sex. Haruki rather he didn't as he buried his face in the pillow like now and waited for the pill to hit. When it did, he felt safe in the knowledge he would feel far away, like nothing could touch him. Certainly not these hands, nor his longing and growing guilt towards Akihiko. He would be neutral, so level, so untouchable he could finally curl up to rest.

He didn't know how much time had lapsed when he felt a peck on his cheek and realised the unbearable heat was gone and he was tugged safely under covers. The air was cool on his face and he could faintly hear the sound of traffic. A hand tousled his hair and set something on the nightstand next to him. "These are for you babe. Pace yourself okay? Take half if you need to shave an edge off the day. Take a whole for our mindblowing sex." Tsuda was uncomfortably close, which was ironic, given how close they just were. "Can you do that for me, beautiful?" Haruki gave a resigned hum in return.

A kiss to his brow later the door clicked shut and Haruki was left alone with his thoughts. A pale arm reached out from under the covers and clutched the pill bottle in his fist. The promise of something better always did calm him down.

Haruki's self-esteem had never been his friend and now it flared whenever he was alone in a quiet room or faced with Akihiko. The two of them hadn't been on the same speaking terms since that night on the rooftop. Akihiko seemed to have accepted his rejection at the expense of his pride. His confidence stumbled every time he tried to approach Haruki. The old Akihiko would have no problem cutting straight to the chase, but as it was, it was a miracle this hadn't caused a rift within their band. Haruki wasn't about to push his luck.

If Haruki was being honest, these days his anxiety level ran high when he was off his meds. Funny. Medicine -that's how he had learned to view these white pills. He needed this protective shield from his suffocating reality. The only downside to them was they made him drowsy and slow. He figured out a life hack by timing coffee to counter the side effects while he worked on tasks for Given.

Like some lofty goal just out of reach, he strived towards the image of them successful and carefree as they toured from city to city. He imagined Tsuda as a disappearing speck in the rear view mirror as they soared down the open road. Uecchi would embarrassedly allow Mafuyu to cuddle against his chest in the backseat. Akihiko would grin at him from his rolled down window as he drummed his fingers on the sill, sunlight catching in his golden hair. They would laugh and squabble over which gas station to stop at, Haruki would double over in laughter as his band mates enthusiastically volunteered their favourite meals for dinner. They would be free if only for a little while.

He clung desperately to these imaginary memories.


Lately, Haruki spaced out during practice. A lot. Uenoyama felt a prickle of annoyance. First, their team leader called these frequent practice sessions then he himself sabotaged their efforts by losing focus and being out of sync.

Be nice, be nice. Uenoyama grinded in his head as a vein popped to the surface. "Hello Haruki-san, is anybody home?"

Hearing his name snapped the bassist from his stupor. "O-oh…!" Haruki realised with a start his bass was the only instrument still vibrating, he gave a sheepish smile as his hand silenced his strings, "Sorry, I didn't sleep so well last night." He offered lamely as a way of explanation.

Akihiko frowned. The honey blonde bassit had been exhibiting a wide range of unusual characteristics lately. He would hover between an anxious energy, to being highly productive, to being spacey -so spacy it made their residential space cadet vocalist seem studious.

Akihiko was also confused and hurt from his almost-confession gone awry. Did it mean he missed his chance and Haruki no longer felt the same? Akihiko chewed the inside of his cheeks. There was almost no opportunity to ask. Haruki stopped coming out for smoke breaks even though his hands would tremble from withdrawal. Instead, whenever he felt the urge, he would make frequent trips to fill his water bottle in the washroom and returned a little calmer.

This was Haruki being calm. A calm Haruki was half present. An engaged Haruki was anxious. Were they overworking and overwhelming him with Given?

"Haruki-san!" The drummer looked up at Mafuyu's soft exclamation. "Your nose. It's bleeding." The bassist wiped his face with the back of his hand, he looked surprised at the thick red smear. "Oh. You're right."

Ue's footsteps clicked hurriedly across the room and within a minute returned with tissues and a bag of ice. Akihiko stepped forward to ease the bass strap off Haruki to avoid him bleeding all over his precious instrument and rested it against the wall behind them.

"What's happening with you?" Akihiko murmured as he wrapped the offered ice in a hand towel and applied the cold on the bassist's forehead.

"I'm just a little tired, I'll be fine after some rest." Haruki muttered as he closed his eyes sleepily and slumped forward to meet the cold compress. The other three band members exchanged a look.

What should we do? Uenoyama mouthed silently. Their leader was elusive when it comes to anything but a positive, sunny projection of himself. Akihiko shook his head and signalled for the guitarist to grab Haruki's belongings.

"Then let's get you some rest, I'm taking you home. Did you drive?" Akihiko was concerned about Haruki falling off his motorcycle. Haruki waved his hand in negative, careful not to shake his head. He hadn't taken his car since Tsuda insisted he drive Haruki home from practice.

A curt knock interrupted them. They looked over to see the door reveal their manager in his impeccable three piece business suit and overcoat.

The older man took less than a second to assess the situation and addressed Akihiko directly, "Ah, that's okay Kaji, I'll make sure he gets home safely."

Without waiting for a response, Tsuda stepped forward to place a steadying hand under Haruki's elbow and smoothly guided him to his feet. Haruki leaned on the dark haired man without looking up. Mafuyu's eyes widened at the display then searched Akihiko for his reaction.

The drummer's face was blank but there was a telltale storm brewing behind those electric green eyes.

Tsuda took a handichef from his suit pocket and wiped the slowly advancing red drip from the bassist's nose. The gesture was so personal the band felt uncomfortable watching while Haruki just silently let him.

"This poor soul has been working himself to the bone for you all." Tsuda clicked his tongue, and brushed a stray strand of hair aside. "Take it easy, won't you Haruki?" The last part was a light chide, like a parent to a child.

Akihiko crushed the bag of ice in his hand and ignored the painful way the freezing corners dug into his palm. Why would Haruki allow another to touch him like this? His mind flashed to the memory of Haruki declining his same request. The contrast stung.

"Sato, how are the lyrics to that last song coming along?" The executive's grey eyes landed on the salmon haired protege. "Haruki told me you guys got the instrumental down. Spring is just round the corner, it would be good if we give Bewitched a head's up to your opening songs by Christmas."

"It's a piece about…deceit." Mafuyu started carefully then paused. "I'm trying to figure out how to tell the story without villains. It's not so black and white." He looked to Uenoyama-kun, he wasn't going to find his inspiration there. His boyfriend was clearcut and straightforward with his intentions -thankfully. "I believe there are two sides to every story. Possibly more."

Mafuyu glanced over to Akihiko, eyes still transfixed on Haruki. His space heart felt the confusion rolling off Kaji-san in waves. He had been positive the two older band members gravitated towards each other in an inevitable union but the recent tenseness between them pointed otherwise. He silently observed their manager's hold on their leader and leaned into the hunch that Tsuda was instrumental to this tension.

"That's interesting." Tsuda tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Really interesting. That's less sung about than your typical love song, that's for sure." Uenoyama could see the gears in their producer's head turning before the man snapped his fingers. "I like it. Tell you what, if you can finish it by Christmas, I'll include it. Otherwise, let's leave it as a separate single."

"Thanks, that would be great," Uenoyama placed a grateful hand on Mafuyu's shoulders. He knew how Mafuyu worked, his beloved could push out a song overnight when he was inspired but would string you along on hair end suspense until that happened. This eases the pressure he sensed already mounting in the band.

"Well, We better get going then. Haruki here looks like a wilted vegetable. Aren't you dear?" Eyebrows rose up. To Haruki's credit, his hand rose up to swap at the suggestion as if it was a ridiculous fly but he hummed his agreement in the end.

Haruki hung his head as he was led away. Akihiko wasn't sure if the others heard it, but he caught the bassist's murmur as Tsuda and Haruki passed by him. It worried him.

"Sorry for the trouble I caused."


Akihiko looked down at the takeout bags in his hands as he stood outside the familiar apartment complex. A nagging feeling possessed him to set out early next morning to buy congee and other comfort food he witnessed Haruki eat when he felt under the weather. In fact, he arrived so early at the shops, he and the pigeons (morning birds, he duly noted) waited outside for them to open. Store keepers looked surprised to greet him as they rolled up their storefronts and fired up their stoves. His sense of time was skewed because he couldn't sleep at all last night.

He treaded up those well worn steps until he reached the familiar doorway framed by the sign 'Nakayama'. Nervously, he rang the doorbell and waited. What would he say? How was he going to ask? Are you okay? Are you and Tsuda seeing each other? He didn't want to come across as demanding but he wanted, no, needed, to know.

After a few seconds of lack of response, he frowned. It was still early in the morning, Haruki should be home.

Then as if in reply, a loud thud came from inside. Akihiko felt his heart leap to his throat. Haruki! His hands rattled the folded gate with force.

"Oi Haruki! Are you in there?"

He briefly wondered if it was proper to use the sparekey the bassist had given him but never took back. As the silence stretched on, Akihiko decided Haruki's privacy could take a backseat to his health. His mind flashed to how drained the bassist looked yesterday. What if he fell and couldn't get up?

The key turned with practised ease and Akihiko didn't know to be relieved or alarmed when the door opened but didn't reveal Haruki.

It wasn't a very big apartment. The drummer ignored the unwashed dishes in the sink, or the multiple glasses on the coffee table and beelined for the bedroom. His anxiety escalated as he pushed aside the sliding doors with enough force it banged against the wall.

Akihiko found him on the bedroom floor still tangled in blankets, nursing his lower back, looking half awake. He took in the dishevelled hair, the vast stretches of exposed skin, the toned muscles, and realised had never seen Haruki naked before. The guy was so modest he would come out of showers with a tower draped over baggy shirts and sweatpants.

Akihiko stared at the telltale rustled sheets half tugged off the bed and he didn't have to look far to see a knotted condom in the garbage bin. He could hear clicking in his ears as he slowly worked the muscles in his jaw.

" .KI." Akihiko grinded out the syllables. The subject of his desire finally seemed to register his presence, and as he did, his face lost colour even as alertness and panic dawned.

Given what he knew of Haruki's schedule and yesterday's display, Akihiko had little suspicion who stayed the night.

"A-Akihiko!"

"What is this?!" He grabbed Haruki's arm and hauled him off the floor, the blanket sliding off what's left of his modesty, baring him fully. Upon coming close enough to see the telltale stains on the sheets, his eyes went ablaze with anger and jealousy.

"Are you seeing Tsuda?" He bit out the words angrily as he shook Haruki's arm. This felt too similar to his past rows with Ugetsu, only this time it compounded because deep inside, Akihiko always believed good natured Haruki would be the last person to betray his trust. A calculating part of him knew Haruki wouldn't strike back like his ex would and this uneven footing made Akihiko feel even more miserable, that somehow without trying, Haruki managed to transform him into this recognisable bully.

"We work for him! Are you out of your freak'n mind?! He… he's like two decades older than you! Is that what you want to be? A sugar dad and a… " Akihiko was red in the face as he roared. "A WHORE!" The way his hair stood on ends made him look feral.

Haruki shuddered from the force of his demands like a ragged doll. Any lingering calm from his medicine deserted him as he tensed his neck and braced his body to resist the throttling momentum.

In their scuffle, he saw angry green eyes that mirrored the distraught and chaos he felt. He felt exposed for more than his naked body. As shame and judgement began to register, hurt and resentment threatened to consume him. For whom? For WHOM?! Of everyone, Akihiko was the last person he wanted to hear this from!

Instead of explaining, Haruki's brown eyes turned cutting, "So?" Akihiko wouldn't understand, nothing he said could right this wrong. What was this irrational pain that made him want to bring his world down around him? With his own hurt overflowing, he met angry green eyes haughtily even as a voice inside of him screamed at him to stop. "So what if I am? What's it to you ? I'm not anyone to YOU!"

Akihiko opened his mouth to retort then closed it again when the words didn't come. I care about you. I love you. I want to be with you.

His lack of rebuttal only confirmed Haruki's fears. Akihiko never saw him beyond a friend of convenience. Never had, never will. Haruki was just a self-assuming, foolish boy who traded his soul with the devil to affirm his self worth. Yet when it comes down to it, his offering held no value to the beholder.

"Just as I thought." The honey blonde looked away. "It wouldn't have made a difference."

Akihiko loosened his grip on Haruki's wrist as though his words burned him.

"I wanted to keep it under wraps for the sake of the band, but Mikumi-chan", Haruki purposely endeared his name like a lover would, even though it sounded hollow to his ears. "Wanted to announce it. Now I see he's right, maybe I should have."

Akihiko stared at him in arrested silence. In the corner of his vision, he numbly registered that his peace offering from this morning had spilled all over the floor. The floor, the sheets and the walls closed in on him, his vision began to skew.

Haruki turned his back to him.

"You should leave."


Author's note:

Muse, you're a cruel mistress. It's been a landslide. There is a comfort in having things out in the open but sometimes being in the clear doesn't make it easier or clearer.

If there are such things as rolling credits after a chapter, try "Unsteady" by X Ambassadors. Grab your popcorn, we're about to change pace. Let's catch some sun next.