A/N: Heyyyyy! After a long hiatus, I have officially returned to work on this story! Yeah, I know.
I just want to give you all a heads up that this chapter contains an interrupted sexual assault. While the victim is okay, some people may find it triggering. Please read at your own discretion and take care of yourself!
Every single night ends up the same
I don't say much at all but I bring up your name
(Over and over and over)
Fuuma had declined Kurogane's (somewhat desperate) invitation to come along to dinner. Fujitaka would welcome another lost soul as easily as he'd accepted Kurogane and Syaoran, and it would be good for the guy to be around a family like that. Plus, if Fuuma was there, the rest of the family couldn't gang up on Kurogane to tell him how much they'd missed having him around and be all full of caring and feelings and things.
But Fuuma declared that he wanted to start his laundry and put his room together before he slept. Doumeki and Kurogane had kept separate bedrooms while they'd lived here, and then Doumeki had left the furniture behind when he'd moved out. He said he didn't need it anymore, and that was how Doumeki was: he didn't much care for possessions in general and he knew eventually there would be someone who would need it more than he did. If he'd happened to run into that person before Kurogane did, he would have just quietly let himself in and taken it. Fuuma didn't have much, but thanks to Doumeki he could get by.
So it looked like Kurogane was on his own. He told himself that this was a good thing; he wanted to be back with the family, so much it hurt. But it had been a long time since he'd just hung out all night like he belonged there, and it was daunting to think about the hugs and probably tears he'd have to endure. The prodigal son returns.
He tried to avoid getting ready for so long that he actually did lose track of time and realized he was late. He got up and shoved his feet into a pair of shoes and grabbed his keys, bellowing down the hall at Fuuma that he'd be back later and call if he needed the car for anything.
Then somebody knocked on the door.
Weird. Not that many people knew where he lived, still fewer knew that he was back from the tour. Maybe Doumeki had forgotten to tell one of his friends that he'd moved or something.
He opened the door and his breath blew out of him like he'd been punched in the gut.
"Okaasan," he said in shock.
Her blond hair was limp with the heat but still always so carefully styled. She was wearing a business suit, she must have come here straight from work— it was rare that she was anywhere else.
"Don't— don't call me that," she said sharply.
He hadn't seen her. Not in a long time. Only once since the funeral. He'd called her a couple of times, when necessary, but not seen her. He was shocked by how old she looked.
"Okaasan! Isn't that cute? The adoption just went through last week, and now of course our own little one is due so soon—the house is just filling up!"
Kurogane stood silently in the aisle of the grocery store, trying to become invisible. He still felt shy around his new mother. His eyes were drawn to her big belly and the way she stroked her hand over it. She said there was a baby in there, that he'd once been inside his real mother like that. He didn't remember his real mother very well anymore, but he had her picture and he remembered that he called her Okaasan.
"You're going to be run ragged, poor thing, two boys now, I didn't know you were going through with the adoption after you found out you were expecting after all."
"Oh, no, it's going to be wonderful. Kurogane is only six, but he's so responsible already, he's such a good boy, he'll be such a help with the baby. And I hope when Syaoran is born he'll teach him to call me Okaasan too, I think it's so darling!"
"Look at you," she said, in a tone of frozen politeness. She was looking at his tattooed arms. He'd forgotten she hadn't ever seen the sleeves. She had been . . . less than thrilled about the back piece and said he was turning into a bad influence and if Syaoran ended up with a tattoo she was going to murder him. Kurogane suddenly wished the design was something vulgar and disgusting enough to make her tuck tail and run. God, he had to get her out of here before she ran into Fuuma . . .
"What do you want, Lydia?"
"More manners, to start. I raised you better than that."
"Yes, ma'am," he muttered. His heart was pounding, it was pathetic that this skinny blond woman a full foot shorter than him could reduce him to a terrified wreck, but it wasn't her that he was afraid of exactly, it was only what she might say that was tying his stomach in a tight knot of anxiety. "Do you want to come inside?"
"Is your . . . friend home?" she asked, her voice chilly and always so fucking polite and god how he hated her voice—
"If by friend you mean my boyfriend, then no. We broke up. He moved out. There is a guy living here, but I'm not dating him. He's one of my coworkers who was on tour with us."
Her face had been locked in that frozen and distant expression that had earned her the nickname "Ice Queen" at work, only spoken behind her back but which she was probably proud of. Now it twisted, and was oddly pretty that way. Barely restrained anger and grief lurked just under the surface of her, but it made her look more alive, less plastic.
"And, that is what I came to say," she said, her voice still somehow sounding polite, but it was trembling on the edge of control. "I cannot believe you went back on tour, I cannot believe you— you said that you were quitting, that you'd never go back, you said you—" She broke off her sentence with a ragged noise and her eyes were full of tears.
Kurogane felt a queer burning sensation creeping over his head, his face, down his shoulders. The knot of his stomach was doing flips and threatening to revolt. His tongue felt thick and he didn't know if he was turning red, but it felt like a cold fire was spreading over him.
"I wasn't playing," he mumbled. "I'm not in the band. They— it was Sakura, she asked me to help— How did you hear about it?"
"Hear about it? I was out having drinks with some people from work and the concert was on television! You were on the television with your stupid fucking guitar, so do not lie to me and tell me you're not playing, and god knows how I managed to recover and not lose the contract I was trying to secure that night . . ."
"You probably saw some pre-concert footage," Kurogane said, trying so desperately hard to speak and not whisper. "I was just tuning it. It wasn't my guitar. I'm the guitar tech. It was probably Kamui's. Kamui is the guitarist, Okaasan, not me."
"I said don't call me that!" she shrieked. "How dare you? How could you possibly think it was okay for you to just go back out there and do that again, like it didn't even matter anymore? You said you quit! You are not allowed to just forgive yourself and-and-and move on—" she gasped, hunching over and putting a hand over her mouth, leaning on the doorframe and sobbing. "I have to live without my baby, without my precious baby, and I won't let you forget about him."
She really thought he could forget?
His fist clenched into his shirt, over his heart, and he wished he could pull the shirt off and show her Syaoran's name but it would only make her hate him more. He should feel angry right now, he should be downright enraged that she'd accuse him of forgetting, but instead it just made him feel tired and sick. She didn't know him. Never had, never would. He'd desperately wanted her to, once upon a time. But this shattered limp-haired woman clinging to his doorway with manicured nails like she meant to dig them into Kurogane himself and shred him apart . . . He wasn't sure he wanted anything from this woman.
"Come inside," he said quietly. "Come sit down, I'll get you some tissues." He reached out to help her stand up, but his fingers barely brushed the suit she spent too much money on.
"Don't touch me!" she shrieked at him, yanking herself away. "Don't ever! I don't even know you anymore! You are selfish, you are ungrateful, you are disrespectful—you are not my son!"
"I know," he muttered, drawing his hands away and putting them in his pockets because he didn't know what else to do with them. "I'm just the babysitter."
"Okaasan," Kurogane said patiently.
He looked like a little sparrow when he tilted his head like that, his hair unkempt and falling into his bright eyes. "Kapsawn!"
"Okaasan."
"Kaasan!"
"That's pretty good," Kurogane said happily. "Come on, let's wash our hands for dinner."
He lifted Syaoran up to reach the sink, but the little boy wriggled around in his arms to get a hug instead of reaching his hands forward to wash them. He might look like a curious sparrow when he was trying to learn something, but his way of tagging along right at Kurogane's heels had already earned him the designation of "puppy" and he couldn't change it now. Kurogane allowed the hug. Syaoran was the only one who ever hugged him, and it was nice even though he was sticky and gross.
"You're such a good big brother," Lydia said, appearing in the doorway and smiling warmly at them. "I knew it was the right decision to bring you home with us. You boys love each other very much, don't you?"
"Hai, Kaasan," Syaoran chirruped.
Lydia laughed and plucked him out of Kurogane's arms to kiss each of his fat little cheeks. "That's my precious boy. Come on, dinner's ready."
"How dare you," she hissed at him. Then she pulled herself up and straightened herself, trying to regain her dignity. "I don't want to see you again. I don't want to look at your face. You were supposed to keep him safe, and you— You're not anything now. Goodbye."
Kurogane didn't reply. There was nothing to say. He watched her walk down the sidewalk toward her car, and then he suddenly stiffened up with shock. Touya and Yukito were pulling in right next to her. Touya jumped out of the car just as Lydia was unlocking her own car's door.
"Oh!" she said in surprise, staring at him like a deer in the headlights.
Touya's eyes cut into her like he meant to actually cut her. "You. Why are you here?"
"I was just leaving," she blurted out, and slammed her door shut and pealed out of the parking lot like she was escaping a fire.
"And good riddance, you bitch!" Touya shouted after her, earning a pinch on the arm from Yukito. Then he caught sight of Kurogane on the doorstep of his apartment, and his eyes went wide and he actually broke into a run, pelting down the sidewalk to get to him. Kurogane felt really strange. Sort of . . . Didn't feel anything, right then. Numb, that was the word. He was numb.
"Hey," Touya said quietly, jogging to a stop and gripping him by the arm. "Are you okay?"
"Fine," Kurogane shrugged. "I'm good."
"Was that your mom?" Fuuma suddenly appeared at his elbow, scowling.
"Y-yeah."
"What did she want?" Touya bit out.
"Nothing," Kurogane muttered.
"What did she say to you?" Yukito asked more gently.
"I told you guys, nothing. Don't worry about it."
"She was, uh, not nice," Fuuma volunteered.
"Shut the fuck up, Fuuma."
"What did she say to him?"
Fuuma faced the twin glowers that Touya and Kurogane were giving him, and licked his lips. "Sorry, bro, but I gotta," he said nervously to Kurogane, and repeated some of Lydia's choicer comments. Touya actually whirled around like he meant to chase after her car, and Yukito fisted a hand into his shirt and restrained him.
"I am. Going. To kill her." Touya took a few heaving breaths, and visibly calmed himself down. "Come on. You were late, so Yuki and I thought you were trying to get out of it and we came to pick you up. This just fucking takes the cake, seriously. I'm taking you home, Kurogane."
"Okay," Kurogane said dully.
He got into Touya's car without argument, and they spent the ride in utter silence. Touya's seething fury was caged up behind a scowl, and his driving was rather more aggressive than normal. Yukito's lips were pinched and he kept glancing into the rearview mirror to try to catch Kurogane's eye. Kurogane was still numb, so he just looked out the window and avoided Yukito's gaze.
The three of them pulled up in front of Fujitaka's house, and Kurogane didn't want to go in. He didn't want to deal with this. In a minute, this was going to start hurting really, really badly, he could feel it building up and he wanted to go back to his apartment and hide—actually, he suddenly wanted with crashing lust to go take back his ex-boyfriend so Doumeki could fuck him too hard to think straight.
Instead, he got out of the car, and Touya opened the door and let him and Yukito inside ahead of him, and Fujitaka was stepping out of the kitchen with an oven mitt on his hand and a happy grin lighting his face—which immediately dropped away when he saw them.
"What happened?"
Touya was too angry to talk, so Yukito answered. "Lydia showed up. She was, uh, I don't think she'll be back."
Fujitaka looked back and forth between Kurogane and Touya, and then he took a deep breath. "The food's just about ready," he said. "Let's eat while it's hot, okay? Let's not talk about anything unpleasant on an empty stomach. I want to hear about this later."
He put an arm around Kurogane and escorted him into the kitchen. "I'm glad you're home," he said quietly. "It's been too quiet without my boys. Can you get some silverware? It's salad and shepherd's pie, so just forks should be fine."
"Okay."
"Yukito, would you get Sakura? She's in her room."
"Yes, sir," Yukito said with too much cheer.
"Touya, son . . . Take five. Join us at the table when you're ready."
"Yes, sir," Touya said with nothing like cheer, and walked through the kitchen out onto the back patio, slamming the door behind him.
Fujitaka still kept the silverware in the same drawer as always, and home hadn't changed in the least, and that was exactly what he'd needed even though he hadn't known it, and suddenly Kurogane was leaning over the counter with a handful of forks and choking on tears. Fujitaka had been tossing the salad, but he put down the salad tongs immediately and stood beside him, a warm hand on his back.
"Shhh," he soothed. "It's all right, you're home now, you're all right."
"I thought—I thought I was starting to figure out—who I am without him— but she just— I know I shouldn't even listen— I'm sorry, fuck, sorry, just let me—" he wiped at his eyes and tried to turn away, but Fujitaka was grabbing onto him.
"No," he said firmly. "Don't apologize, Kurogane. Guys, go ahead and start eating, we'll be along."
He guided Kurogane into the living room and sat down on the couch and pulled Kurogane into his arms as if he was a child instead of the intimidatingly large twenty-seven-year-old he actually was. Kurogane had fallen apart on Fujitaka a few times before, but not in years. His arms were still the same.
"I've got you, kiddo," he was saying. "It's all right."
Kurogane hid his face in Fujitaka's embrace and tried to breathe. "I missed you, D-dad."
It wasn't official, they'd never been able to make it so. But Kurogane had barely spoken to his adoptive father since his parents had divorced when he was fifteen, and he'd had Fujitaka ever since. He had tried so desperately to get custody of Kurogane and take him away from Lydia when he was in high school and nobody had been more disappointed than Fujitaka that he couldn't make it happen. Kurogane couldn't remember when "Dad" had first slipped out of his mouth, but he never remembered there being an awkward moment of surprise. It had been the most natural thing in the world. The word had come harder to him in those bad years, when he'd needed the distance to try to knit himself back together.
But he didn't want the distance anymore, he wanted to be back in the arms of his family and the only real father he could remember. Maybe he was actually grateful to his mom for shocking him back into wanting so badly to be here.
"I hate your stupid mom."
Kurogane looked up with surprise and found Sakura limping into the room, almost running despite the obvious pain in her hip, and she threw herself down on the couch and draped herself onto Kurogane's back.
"Don't listen to her," Sakura said fiercely. "I knew Syaoran better than she ever did, and he would have wanted this for you, he would have wanted you to be happy and to be with us, we're your family . . ."
"I know," Kurogane said quietly, letting her cling to him. "Thanks."
When he was composed enough to eat, he scooped Sakura up in his arms and carried her to the table. She squealed and pounded on his shoulder with her fist, but she didn't really try to get down, just grinned up at him until he put her down by her chair. Touya didn't say anything when he came in, but the quiet smile he wore when he passed the salad over was enough.
"You guys have so much to catch me up on," Fujitaka said, beaming around the table at all of them. "Yukito, did you get to see your parents when you guys stopped in Cincinatti?"
"Yes, Touya and I went over and spent the day with them," Yukito smiled. "We told them you said hello."
"Good. How are they?"
"They're fine. My dad is going to retire next year, and they're saying they'll probably move back here. They're definitely happy to hear I'm going back to school." After numerous interruptions and changes of major, Yukito was going to try to become a nursing assistant. He could become a fully-fledged nurse if he ever retired from music, but it would make ends meet between tours until then.
Sakura had school to finish, too, since she'd apparently decided overnight that she wanted her bachelor's degree after all, and she chattered about looking for a part-time job. Touya currently had no idea what he wanted to do, but Eriol had made it his business to line up a couple of students for him who wanted piano lessons, for now. The company Kurogane had been working for was happy to take him back, so he was fine.
They talked over their plans and told Fujitaka a few of their more tame stories from the road, and then Fujitaka made coffee to coerce them to stay longer and turned on a baseball game on television while Kurogane and Yukito volunteered to do the dishes.
He was sandwiched between Touya and Yukito on the couch when they all plunked down to yell at the game together, and both of them just casually leaned on him to make sure he knew they were just as happy as Fujitaka and Sakura were. They'd always had their own way of telling Kurogane they loved him, too.
It was good to be home.
(twelve years ago)
Touya had told Kurogane it was going to be even better if he brought Syaoran with him when he came over, because Sakura would be happy to have a playmate and she might actually leave them alone instead of bothering them the whole time. But Kurogane still felt a little nervous as he approached the house.
He always got nervous in situations like these. He had a lot of responsibilities at home, more so here in the new place without Dad, and he had the puppy to look after, so he didn't get the chance to go over the other people's houses very often. He'd always had people he was friendly with at school, but he'd never had much luck once they left the building. Touya had overridden his insistence that he was needed at home, and had told him that if he had to watch Syaoran while their mother was at work, he could do it at Touya's house.
He was still trying to come to terms with the fact that someone had actually invited him over. Touya had said Yukito came over to hang out most days they didn't have track practice, and Kurogane should come by sometime. Kurogane wouldn't have even bothered asking his mother's permission in the expectation of being rejected, except Syaoran wanted to come over, too.
"Kurogane, what's wrong?" Syaoran asked, bouncing a little and making Kurogane waver for balance.
"Hey, be careful!" he protested, tightening his hands around Syaoran's legs. He took the steps onto the porch of the house in one stride.
The door opened before he could ring the bell, and Touya grinned at the sight of Syaoran riding high on Kurogane's shoulders.
"Hey guys."
Kurogane looked up into the eaves, too embarrassed to look at Touya directly. "We walked from the bus station and he got tired," he explained, still clutching Syaoran's knees to steady him.
"You should have said," Touya said in surprise. "My dad would have picked you guys up."
"It wasn't that far, he's just being a brat."
Sakura made her appearance by elbowing her older brother out of the way and saying boisterously, "Hi, welcome to my house!"
"Watch it, monster," Touya muttered, and then Kurogane and Touya finally looked at each other in real understanding. They were brats, but they were cute and you couldn't get mad at them. Touya knew how it was.
"Ha, finally taller than you," Syaoran crowed, grinning down at his new friend while she was looking upward in surprise.
Kurogane laughed and tugged Syaoran down, bending over and letting him slide over Kurogane's head to land on his feet right in front of Sakura.
"Only when you're cheating," she said back, just as triumphantly. They stuck out their tongues at each other, making Touya laugh.
"Come on in," he said, standing aside. "Yuki's not here yet, he had to go home and do a couple of chores for his mom before she'd let him come over. My dad's home, come to the kitchen so you can meet him."
"O-okay, yeah," Kurogane said, trying not to show his nerves as he followed Touya in. The kids were chattering away at each other, skipping along at the heels of the teenagers. Great, two puppies now. "Does your dad not work?"
"Course he does. He can kind of set his own hours, though, so he tries to get done early enough to be here when we get home from school. He thinks it's important for us to have someone at home, I guess. I mean, I'd be fine, but I get it, with Sakura being so young and everything."
Kurogane tried to wrap his mind around that. He was starting to not be sure whether Touya's dad was just weird, or if Kurogane's parents were maybe the weird ones.
"Man, your brother really is short, huh?" Touya said in surprise when Kurogane bent down to pull the two of them apart so they'd quit elbowing each other.
"Hah, yeah, he takes after his dad."
"Do you not have the same dad? I noticed you didn't look much alike, but then me and Sakura don't either."
Kurogane scrubbed the hair on the back of his head and blew out a breath. Might as well. "We don't have the same parents at all, I'm adopted."
"Oh," Touya said in surprise.
Syaoran whirled around and planted himself between Kurogane and Touya. "It doesn't matter, because he's my real brother," he said challengingly.
"Uh, no one said I wasn't, Syaoran," Kurogane mumbled, dropping his face into his hand in terrible embarrassment and trying to shove the little brat aside.
But Touya had crouched down on one knee to meet Syaoran's eyes. "I got it," he said. "Thanks for letting me know."
Syaoran grinned, and then Sakura started yanking on him. "Come on, I want to show you my room!"
The silence between the two of them was awkward, but it only lasted for a couple of seconds before they were in the kitchen. Touya's father was in there, poking around in the freezer. He stuck his head out when he saw Touya.
"What do you think, chicken and broccoli bake for dinner? I can't remember if Yukito likes it."
"Yuki eats anything, Dad, he's a human garbage disposal," Touya said fondly, then pulled Kurogane forward. "Dad, this is Kurogane, the new guy I was telling you about on the track team. Kurogane, this is my dad, Fujitaka."
"Oh, hello," the man said, smiling pleasantly. "Do you like chicken and broccoli?"
"Huh?"
"Unless you're not staying for dinner? Sakura assured me that her new friend had gotten permission from his mother, but Sakura has been known to fudge on the truth occasionally."
"I . . . you're going to cook?" Kurogane asked in surprise. "Um, I can help. I usually make dinner at home, I don't want to cause trouble for you or anything . . ." he mumbled, already crossing to the sink to wash his hands. His parents often worked late, and he'd long since been used to preparing whatever his mother set out in the morning before she left. Dad had usually been home in time to eat with them, but now it was mostly just himself and Syaoran at the table.
Okaasan would pitch a fit if she thought Kurogane was just sitting around letting somebody's dad make dinner for him.
"Oh, no, it's fine," the man said, waving him away from the sink, causing him to freeze up and wonder what he should do. "The three of us all take turns cooking, and it's my turn today, that's all. You're a guest, Kurogane, you don't need to help."
"O-oh. Um. Okay. But. If you—if you want help or anything. Sir."
"I'll be fine, it's nothing fancy. But thank you very much." The man suddenly grinned at Touya. "Sir. I like him."
Touya rolled his eyes. "Come on, Kurogane. Let's go to my room."
"Let me know if you've got any other friends coming, Touya, I want to make sure I've got enough!" Fujitaka called out as they headed down the hall deeper into the house.
"It's just Yuki!" Touya called back.
"What, is he not a friend that's coming over?" Fujitaka asked sarcastically.
"No! He's my boyfriend!"
There was a brief moment of silence, and Kurogane's stomach abruptly flipped over. Touya was either crazy or really brave. Oh god, what was Fujitaka going to do? What if they got in a fight? Kurogane wondered if he should grab Syaoran and get out of here.
"Well, congratulations!" Fujitaka called out after a moment. "I told you!"
"You did not!"
"Dad totally called it!" Sakura bellowed from her room, from which disturbing crashing noises were emanating. What on earth were her and Syaoran doing in there?
Touya's face was turning red, and he stomped the rest of the way to his room with his eyes on the floor. "Just do not say anything," he warned Kurogane, whirling around and glaring at him. "Don't even say anything, my family is so embarrassing."
Kurogane was still stunned by all of this, but he found himself grinning. "No, they aren't, they're great. Your dad is, um. Your dad's really cool."
"My dad is a complete dork," Touya scowled, throwing himself down in a beanbag chair and kicking the edge of another one toward Kurogane. "Let's just play a video game or something."
Kurogane started scanning the game cases that Touya had on the shelf. "He really doesn't mind? About Yukito?"
Touya flushed even more red. "He's been trying to convince me to ask Yukito out for weeks. He's so embarrassing."
Kurogane tossed a couple of games at Touya to choose from. "You're kidding, right? I'm not even going to tell my parents about me until I move out and live on my own."
"What do you—oh."
"You know you're really lucky, right?"
"Yeah," Touya admitted, smiling a little at the games in his hands. "I know."
Subaru lit up with practiced ease and dragged deep for his first pull. He could almost trace the nicotine curling into the corners of his body, seeking out anxiety and dampening it. The harsh smoke coiled up in his throat while he held it in his lungs, and he let a bit leak out through his nostrils as he sighed with pleasure.
Yeah, he was majorly addicted.
Yeah, it was a problem.
Yeah, he needed to quit.
"Want one?" he asked Sakura when he noticed that she was watching him smoke quite frankly. He held out his pack, and with a philosophical shrug she selected one between two slender fingers and slid it out. She placed it between her lips and allowed Subaru to light it for her, leaning close over his cupped hands.
"Thanks," she said once it was burning steady, inhaling and letting out a smoky trail in the wake of her gratitude. "Ugh, why do I let you do this to me?" she said only seconds later. "These are nasty." She put the cigarette down beside her leg. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, her head tilted back to watch clouds scudding in the wind high overhead. "Why do you smoke, anyway? I honestly wouldn't have picked you for a smoker."
Subaru had his cigarette in one hand, but the other hand balled up into a fist, and he found himself staring at his white knuckles while he tried to think of the words he wanted to say. "None of your business" was too harsh for such a good friend, but he desperately hated talking about anything to do with—
"Oh," Sakura said after a moment, and then her hand came down over his clenched fist and patted it gently. "Never mind, that's okay." She didn't press him at all, but she left her hand atop his.
For a moment, it was all he could do not to burst into tears. People looked at Sakura, at the clothes and hair and tattoo, and thought she must have some kind of attitude problem. It was stupid and awful, because she was one of the most genuinely kind people Subaru had ever met.
"The thing nobody likes to think about," he said slowly, "not even me, really, is . . . how much I looked up to him. And I— Sakura, I was sixteen, I was so stupidly in love with him, and I just wanted to, I don't know, impress him or something. If he went outside to smoke, I'd go with him. And now I'm just hooked on the stupid things. Damn cancer sticks," he said, probably with too much fondness, and he took another deep drag. "I want to quit but kind of don't want to at the same time . . ."
He turned his head away from her to blow out the smoke, telling himself he wasn't just trying to hide his face. He didn't want to talk about this anymore. He regretted that last thing he'd said. He hated, hated talking about this. Not even Kamui really seemed to understand, most of the time. How you could love someone so much and still be so frightened and sickened by them. It shouldn't be possible. The man was in jail and Subaru had testified to put him there. And still he kept holding on to stupid, small things. As if they mattered anymore.
"Things were still good back then," Sakura said quietly, eyes still on the sky. "At first, it was good, and you can't help but remember that. I apologize if I'm being too opinionated, but I think you might not be able to quit until you find something else to fill the hole he left in you."
Maybe it was arrogance on his part to think that just because she hadn't lived the same life that she wouldn't be able to understand him. Her hand suddenly slid away from his, brushing over his side and around his back, pulling him into a light embrace. It was hot and sticky weather and the heat of another person's body was not exactly nice when you were sitting outside, but he leaned into her all the same.
"It's funny," he said suddenly, tamping out his cigarette on the ground. "We spent a lot of time with each other the last couple of years, all of us, I mean. Writing, recording, and then going on tour. But it seems like we only started really getting to know each other this past summer."
"Yeah. But then, all of us have some pretty deep things behind us. Or that we're still carrying around. It's not the kind of stuff you talk about with your coworkers. It's the kind of stuff you talk about with your friends."
Subaru tightened the hug between them, too grateful to speak. He was a nice person, and he knew it. He was friendly to everyone he met. But as far as real, true friendship went . . . He was less lucky in that area. But now he had the band, and he wasn't afraid anymore that they'd be taken away from him. He was making real, actual plans with his life now—including the fall classes that Sakura had been helping him sign up for before they came here today.
"My dad's going to grill me when I get home," Sakura sighed. "To find out if we're dating."
"If who is?"
Sakura giggled. "Us," she said, pointing at herself and at him. "I saw him giving me the look, in the car on the way here."
He'd been at Sakura's house while she talked him through using the online class catalogue and getting a schedule together. Fujitaka, in addition to being a delightful and warm person, had dropped them off at the studio.
Was Fujitaka only being nice to him because he thought Subaru was Sakura's boyfriend? "That's . . . awkward."
"Oh, not really," she assured him. "He's just sort of desperate for me to start dating someone, I can tell."
"Um, you and I are both super gay . . . Aren't we?"
She blushed. "Yeah."
"Does your dad not know that?"
"Well, I wasn't going to say, 'Hey Dad, my gay friend Subaru is coming over'!" she said, rolling her eyes.
"I meant, about you?"
"Uh, not yet," she said quietly.
"Would it . . . not be okay?" He shouldn't make assumptions, but he'd really thought, with the fond way that Yukito talked about Fujitaka, that they must have a pretty good relationship, and had therefore assumed that Fujitaka was accepting of his children's sexuality. Maybe not?
"It's not like I think he wouldn't love me or that he'd get upset or anything," she said, her face stricken at the very idea. "My dad is the best, really. It just seems like a lot, you know? All four of us?"
"Four?" he said blankly.
"Touya, Yukito, Kurogane, and me," she enumerated. "I know this is a silly thought, but it seems like too much to ask. At some point, he might like to have a kid who's just nice and normal and straight or something."
"Kurogane is . . .?"
"Totally, one hundred percent homosexual," Sakura said.
"No, I knew that, he keeps staring at Fai's ass every time Fai isn't looking, I've never seen anything as dumb as the two of them staring at each other and thinking the other one isn't interested. No, I just meant, how is Kurogane one of your dad's kids?"
"Really? They are?" Sakura asked, a delighted gleam in her eyes. "Ohmygod, Subaru, we have to get them together. We have to. Anyway, yeah, um, it's a long story. Short version is my dad is awesome at making scared teenagers with shitty parents feel like they have a place to go, and Kurogane calls him Dad. Oh my god, Subaru, I have to tell Touya. Touya and Yukito will make them go on a double date with them. It'll be amazing."
"Fai and Kurogane are adults. Allegedly," he said dryly. "They can figure it out for themselves."
"Kurogane is dumb as a box of rocks about dating," Sakura snorted. "No. They need help. I'll tell Shizuka if I have to. Shizuka is a sly, sneaky bastard when he wants to be. This is happening."
Subaru groaned and covered his face with his hands. "What have I done," he mumbled dramatically.
"Heeeey~" a voice called from a distance. "What are you guys doing, sitting out here?"
They looked up to find Fai and Kamui headed their way. They both stood up and checked their clothes for dirt and cigarette ash. Subaru, knowing that they had a fairly important meeting, had donned the nicest pair of pants and most conservative shirt he owned. His tie was neon green and black checkers, but he was at least trying. Sakura, however, looked like a naughty Catholic schoolgirl. She was wearing white stockings and a short plaid skirt and a white blouse that was held together with over-sized safety pins rather than buttons. Was this what she normally wore to meetings?
Kamui seemed to be actively attempting to prove he didn't give a shit, wearing jeans and a tank top and an unzipped hoodie with no sleeves. He'd just had some shading done to the tattoo on his arm yesterday, and his skin was still red and irritated. Fai had chosen Subaru's approach, looking sort of business-casual in slacks and a button-down. And the Converse that Sakura had fixed up for him with Captain America patches. Right. Well, they were musicians and they had an image, right? It wasn't like the guy didn't know that.
"Where's your brother?" Fai asked Sakura as the four of them headed inside the building.
"Already here, I think. He and Yukito had somebody else they wanted to talk to, so they came early."
"Oh."
"Hey, wait up!"
It was Kurogane, with Fuuma jogging along behind him. The two of them loped along to catch up to the rest of the group, and Fai blinked at them in surprise.
"What are you doing here?"
"Fuck if I know," Kurogane snarled. "We got invited to the meeting. Sorry if that's a problem." He stalked past Fai, who gaped at his retreating back.
"That—that's not what I—hey, wait!"
"Yeah, it's like a storybook romance for sure," Subaru said to Sakura, rolling his eyes. "They're just made for each other."
They all jogged up the stairs to the third floor, not interested in waiting for an elevator nor trying to cram themselves in. Subaru was winded at the top, which was how he knew that he'd been smoking more than he'd been keeping track of. He fretted over that for a moment, then turned his concern on Fuuma instead.
"Hey," he said, grabbing his arm and holding him back at the top of the staircase while the others moved on ahead. "Please, please, please do not antagonize Kamui today," he begged. "He . . . Just don't."
Fuuma looked at him carefully, and his face was sober. Shit. That meant he'd already noticed. "Is he sick or something? He looks tired. And skinny. Has he lost weight?"
"He's just having a hard time," Subaru said cautiously. Kamui wasn't sleeping well and had been running more than was strictly necessary for exercise, ever since their talk two weeks ago. If he was trying to come to terms with himself on his own, he wasn't doing a very good job of it. "He'll be okay. He's just . . . he needs to be left alone for a while, okay?"
Fuuma clenched his jaw. He opened his mouth, closed it. "Later," he finally said. Then, "What about you? Are you okay? You don't look so great, either."
Subaru shrugged and turned his eyes down. He and Fuuma had been friends for a long time, and when they weren't talking about Kamui it was easy to open up with him.
"I just . . . I know I'm probably being selfish, but I really don't want to talk about Seishirou anymore. I just want to be done talking about Seishirou," he admitted. "And you know that's what we're meeting about. There's no reason for you and Kurogane to be here otherwise."
He didn't want to have this meeting. He'd been having fun at Sakura's house, getting her help signing up for spring classes and getting to know her father, and he'd much rather be there. He scrubbed sweaty palms against the legs of his jeans.
Fuuma slid an arm around him and hugged him. "It's not selfish. Hey, maybe you don't really need to be here. I mean, Kamui and I know everything too, and Fai was at the sentencing with us. We can tell this guy whatever he needs to know."
"Thanks," Subaru mumbled, just allowing himself to be supported for a moment.
The phone call had come in yesterday afternoon. The man introduced himself as Fujimoto and said he was their new PR agent and he'd like to meet with them as soon as possible. It was Fai he'd called first, but he'd also called Touya, as if he knew more than he should about their interpersonal relationships. He'd asked for every member of the band and he must have told Touya that he wanted Kurogane and Fuuma to come.
He wanted the scoop about Seishirou, it was obvious. And he wanted all of them on the same page. Subaru wondered briefly if Fujimoto had been told about the circumstances of Kyle's departure, then he shook it off and braced himself.
"Come on. Let's get this over with."
Fuuma kept a hand on his shoulder. "Fingers crossed, maybe this will be the last time we have to talk about it, huh?"
Subaru didn't think his luck worked that way, but it was nice of Fuuma all the same, so he tried to keep the fatalism to himself.
The unfamiliar man who was standing in the door of Kyle's office must be their new agent. He had a pleasant smile, a nice suit, and soft-looking brown hair.
"Hi," he said to the two of them as they approached. "Everyone's in the conference room a few doors down. You're the last two, right? This way."
Subaru started walking at the exact wrong moment, causing him to physically collide with the man as he stepped out of the doorway to lead them down the hall.
"Oops!" the man cried, grabbing onto Subaru's shoulder and letting his own back hit the wall, somehow keeping them both upright. "I am so sorry!"
"No, no, I'm sorry!" Subaru gasped, looking up and into a pair of soft gray eyes. His lungs seemed to stick to his ribs and he found it hard to draw his breath in.
The guy's hand was still on his shoulder. They were just looking at each other and not moving, which ought to be weird, but he had the prettiest eyes and Subaru was really quite all right with the hand and the just staring because he seemed very nice. He was smiling. Nice eyes and a nice smile and just . . . nice. Oh, god, Subaru was blushing, wasn't he?
"Sorry!" he suddenly said again, pulling away. His cheeks felt like they'd burst into flame.
"No, that's totally my fault. It's, um, it's nice to meet you, Subaru."
"How did you know . . . ?"
"Believe it or not, I'm a fan of the Paper Cranes," he said with that same dazzingly pleasant smile. "I'm Takashi, by the way. Takashi Domoto. Don't worry, I'm not going to ask you for an autograph or anything. I was just talking to Kiyokazu before everybody showed up, and I said I'd show you where the conference room was."
"You're not our new agent?"
Subaru didn't mean to sound disappointed. He wasn't sure why it came out that way. Fuuma was suspiciously behind them and suspiciously silent. He snuck a glance over his shoulder and found Fuuma smirking so wide it was slightly disturbing.
"Ah, no, I work in the legal department. Kiyokazu is from legal too—well, until recently. Anyway, here you go. I hope you guys have a good meeting." He poked his head into the room for just long enough to say, "Hey, buddy, I'll see you later tonight. Let me know if you need help with anything else."
"Yeah, find me a secretary!" came the snappy response.
"You got it, boss."
Takashi Domoto retreated with a grin and a parting nod to Subaru, who slunk into the room ahead of Fuuma's smirk and hoped with all his soul that Fuuma would magically forget everything he had just witnessed in the hallway.
"Okay, we're all here now," Fuuma said congenially. "You must be Kiyokazu."
The man with the ponytail made a horrible face. "Takashi only gets to call me that because he's got photos of me dressed as a Power Ranger when I was six. It's Fujimoto."
"And that is Fuuma Monou, whom you can just ignore if it's more convenient," Kurogane drawled. "So what's this meeting all about, anyway?"
Fai frowned at Kurogane. "You can ignore the grump, too," he said smoothly. "Sorry. I think we're all a little on edge. You didn't mention what the meeting was about, and we've all been . . . stressed, recently."
Fujimoto's smile was humorless but still somehow genuine. "I know. I'll be clear, so that you can all relax. The point of this meeting is just to introduce myself to you. I'm Fujimoto, and I'm going to be handling your PR from now on."
He was met with utter silence, but he just nodded at them like he was expecting it.
"I've been with Piffle Records for a long time, but there's no reason you would have ever met me. I work in the legal department. I'm really close to the Okiuras, and I'm privy to a lot of details that most people aren't."
He looked right at Subaru, who held his gaze squarely. He wasn't afraid, just wrung out, and he had his friends here with him.
"I already know all about that situation. You don't remember, I can see that, but Mr. Domoto and I were in the courtroom with you during Mr. Sakurazuka's sentencing. I helped your lawyer prepare the case. We're not here to talk about that." He flicked his eyes to Kurogane as well. "I even know what really happened that night. For what it's worth, I think he deserved everything you gave him, so you can relax now."
Kurogane wore a trace of a smirk as he finally sank back in his seat, arms crossed over his broad chest. Subaru rubbed his fingers against his forehead, chasing away the memory of Seishirou's face after Kurogane was done with him.
"This might be hard for you all to believe, but I really am just here to help. I know it's going to take some time before you trust me, and that's fine. Mr. Okiura gave me this position because he knows how badly this band needs somebody it can trust, and he trusts me."
Fai was the one who started softening first. Kamui was going to hold Kyle against Fujimoto for a long time, and Subaru could see that on his twin's face. But when Fai's face started to open up, the rest of them started to look less tense. Subaru felt a change in the set of his own shoulders. Fujimoto was looking at each of them in turn, his mouth even and his eye contact direct. He wasn't trying to bullshit them. It felt like maybe they really could trust him.
"Right now, you guys need somebody who understands that looking out for your best interests is in the company's best interests. Kyle mishandled a lot, and there's no denying that. I've never worked PR before, and I'm sure I'll screw up eventually, but I am going to do my best, okay?"
There was a few shufflings, and then suddenly Touya stretched out his hand over the table. "Okay," he said. Fujimoto took it, they shook, and that was it.
"Good. My door is open. Kyle's work has been reassigned to other agents, and you're the only band I'm in charge of right now. I'm helping the legal department out whenever I have free time, but you're my top priority as of now. You let me know if you need anything at all."
There were nods and murmurings. It wasn't trust yet, but it felt okay.
"I'm going back to my office, and anyone who'd like to speak to me is welcome to join me there. Anyone who isn't interested in sticking around—I'm glad to have met you all, and I hope I'll get to know you better in the future. Have a good day."
Then he looked at Fai, and at Subaru, and at Kamui. "If you have time, I'd like the three of you to come back to the office for a second."
They frowned at each other, but they followed him. Fujimoto looked back behind them and snorted when he saw the entire rest of the bunch shadowing them.
"Really?"
He was met with a lot of blank faces.
"Okay, fine, then I'll just say this here. Mr. Okiura has asked me to officially tell you that Kyle's opinion as expressed to you the day of his termination is not the opinion held by Piffle Records. Officially. He asked me to apologize on his behalf for the fact that you were subjected to that while in his building. He would like me to assure you that nothing of that nature will happen again and that Kyle's termination is permanent."
Fai raised an eyebrow.
Fujimoto gave him a wry smile. "See, that's why it's nice to have someone from legal take this job. Unofficially, I never said this, I always thought Kyle was a creep and not exactly human, and I hope him getting fired is gonna wake him up to the fact that he needs therapy. And I certainly didn't say that I watched the security tape of Kamui beating the crap out of him three time and nearly pissed myself laughing. Because I would never say that."
Kamui's grin was shark-like. "Just like I would never assault anyone, ever." He stuck his hand out to Fujimoto.
Subaru was shocked—he'd thought Kamui would be harder to win over—but he found himself smiling. He looked back at Fuuma and saw that Fuuma was watching Kamui with complete seriousness, frowning even. Something was up.
Fujimoto moved himself in front of Subaru and hesitated, like he wanted to shake his hand as well but wasn't sure if Subaru would be willing.
"You really helped my lawyer put Seishirou in jail?" he asked softly.
Fujimoto nodded. "Takashi and I did everything we could."
"Thank you," he muttered, grabbed Fujimoto's hand and squeezed it, then hurried back to the staircase to get out of the building. He felt suffocated, and he hated it. Just two weeks ago he'd finally started feeling free from all of it, and he needed to get out into the sun and just get that feeling back.
Fai followed him out, but he didn't say anything. He just put an arm around his waist and walked Subaru to his car. They'd wait for Kamui, and then they'd go home.
(six months ago)
Subaru had a bottle of makeup remover and was trying to scrub his face clean. They had to wear a lot to keep the stage lights from making them look washed out, and his skin had still not quite aged out of its oily teenaged phase. He had to work pretty hard to keep his cheeks from breaking out into acne. Kamui, curse him, never seemed to have that problem. But then Kamui had been experimenting with makeup for years, so maybe he was just better at skin care.
The door to the dressing room cracked open with a quiet knock, and he assumed it was Fai coming to check on him. They were supposed to be doing a quick thing with a local newspaper, but they'd had half an hour between the show and the interview and he'd wanted to get himself cleaned up first.
"Yeah, I'm almost done," he confirmed. "Just a second."
Someone tall and broad slipped into the room, certainly not Fai, and he caught their shape just in his peripheral, just at the edge of his mirror. He froze, a treated cotton pad pressed to his chin, and his heart simply stopped beating. It couldn't be.
It could be, he reminded himself, it could absolutely be. He'd been getting letters for over a year, and they made it clear that Seishirou knew where he was and what he was doing. The letters were all variations on a theme: Subaru still belonged to him, and he missed what was his. He wanted to see him again.
He couldn't turn around. He couldn't look at him. He didn't want to see his eyes, to know if they still could look at him with that tender expression and soft smile that made him melt. He knew better. He knew he was no one's possession and he knew that Seishirou was—something, maybe not a pedophile but maybe he was, and he was definitely a stalker and definitely unhinged and definitely dangerous—
"Hello, Subaru."
He closed his eyes. He didn't know there were tears welling up in them until he felt them gather in hot pools against his eyelashes.
"What are you doing here?" he whispered.
"I wanted to see you. I needed to see you. I needed to know if you were okay. You're so thin," he chided gently.
Subaru opened his eyes, and turned around somehow. He couldn't explain how it could feel like his muscles were all seizing and like he'd been frozen in a block of ice and how he was burning alive in a furnace all at once, nor how any of those sensations allowed him to turn around slowly.
"You can't be here," he whispered through the lump in his throat. "This is a private room."
"Are you saying you're not happy to see me?"
In some ways, he was. He was glad to know just how much risk Seishirou was willing to take. He was glad he didn't have to open another letter with nausea turning his stomach over. He was glad that Seishirou seemed okay and he was glad to see his smile again, because he was too stupid to stop loving that handsome smile.
"Oh god," he whispered, and covered his face with his hands for a moment.
"Baby, are you all right?"
He didn't know why, but that did it. That finally did it. He lifted his face and set his jaw. "I am not your baby," he said firmly. "I'm not your anything. I was your biology student and you were my mentor, and you crossed a line. I told you when you crossed it. You refused to stop, and so I left. And I am telling you again, now: Stop. Do not come any closer to me. Do not speak to me. I want you to leave and I do not want you to come back, and I do not want any further communication with you. No more letters. Nothing. Leave me alone. Is that clear?"
Seishirou's face was soft, sad, hurt. Subaru wanted to throw up as he crossed the room and came close. "You can't mean that. Please, Subaru, I know what you think you have to say, but I can see the truth in your eyes. You love me. You always did. Subaru, you're still so beautiful, I just need to—"
His hand stroked over Subaru's cheek, and he dipped his head down to kiss him.
"I've missed you so much," he murmured.
"Please go away," Subaru whimpered.
And then Seishirou's smug smile was right in front of him, and hands were pinning his wrists to the mirror. "No," he said. He started kissing Subaru's neck, breathing in deeply as if to smell him. Subaru bucked violently to try to break the grip on his wrists, but Seishirou straddled his knees and ground his hips down just as Subaru bucked his upward. "Mmm," he groaned with pleasure.
"Stop it!" Subaru shouted, tears coming fast and hot. "Let me go!"
He brought his knee up quickly, hoping to get Seishirou where it counted, but Seishirou just sat himself down on Subaru's legs. He licked at his throat.
"You taste so good," he murmured.
Subaru tried to head-butt him. Seishirou managed to pin both of his arms with one big hand, and used the other to yank Subaru's head back by the hair, startling a pained yelp out of him.
"Just let me do this," he begged. "I know you want me to."
Subaru sobbed.
And then the door crashed against the wall, and there was a terrible roaring noise like a rampaging bear, and then Seishirou's upper body went right over Subaru's head and his face hit the mirror so hard that the glass shattered. He was yanked backward just as forcefully, and then hands were pulling Subaru out of the chair.
He screamed and pushed the hands away, and to his surprise he was let go. He blinked through his tears and saw that it was Fuuma who had gotten hold of him. Fuuma was holding his hands out carefully, showing that he meant no harm, taking his arm again and pulling him toward the door to get him out of the room—
He twisted away, turned to see that Kurogane was trading blows with Seishirou, grabbing onto his clothes every time he tried to make a run for it. He grunted with every punch Seishirou landed, but didn't let up. He finally got a hold of one of Seishirou's arms and twisted it behind him, and pinned Seishirou's back against his chest.
Fuuma was panting, bent over, his hands braced on his legs. "Kamui. Saw the creep in the hallway. Came and got us right away. We. Ran."
Seishirou slipped loose and immediately went sprawling on the ground, having tripped over Kurogane's hastily-launched kick at his ankles. Fuuma jerked himself upright again and threw himself into the fray, yelling something deranged as he aimed a punch into Seishirou's kidney. He hauled the man upright, getting his arms trapped in the same position Kurogane had done.
"You're going to let them do this to me?" Seishirou called to Subaru. "Don't tell me you didn't want me, you were hard for me, and now you'll let some goons beat me up just for wanting to be with you? You wanted me here!"
Subaru realized with horror that he had started getting hard when Seishirou had sat on his lap and started licking at the hollow in his throat. At least it had gone away. And he couldn't stop sobbing. So what if his body had done something without his permission? He'd said stop and he'd said go away, and he'd tried—he'd tried to get away—
Kurogane buried a fist in Seishirou's stomach, and all the air went out of him. He gasped for air, but his ability to speak was gone, and Subaru realized he'd aimed that punch on purpose and that just made him cry more.
Seishirou tried to kick Kurogane, and then Kurogane landed a few punches on his face and took all the fight out of him. He was just sitting still by the time Kamui led the cops into the room at a run. His nose was bleeding and his forehead was bleeding and he was still fighting for air and for some reason Kurogane looked like he was going to start crying.
But it was Kamui that actually did start. Seishirou was handcuffed and taken away, and Fuuma said, "It's finally over," and that was when Kamui just fell on Fuuma and let Fuuma hold him in his arms. He wept into Fuuma's chest and Subaru could see his twin shaking like a leaf while Fuuma just kept repeating, "It's over, it's all over," and petting Kamui's hair.
Subaru wanted to be there with them, but the cops started interrogating him and he had to wait for three hours until they finally left him alone and let him collapse onto Fai. Fai and Kurogane dragged him to the tour bus and both of them sat and kept watch over him while he cried himself to sleep. They were still sitting there, both of them, when he woke up in the morning to find that Kamui had crawled into bed with him and they'd slept the whole night in each other's arms. Fuuma was passed out on the floor right beside them.
Fuuma had been wrong. It wasn't over. There were hearings and interrogations and evidence and lawyers, and it wouldn't really be over for months.
But that morning, Subaru just reached out and squeezed Kurogane's swollen knuckles, trying to thank him even though he couldn't find the words to speak, then buried his face in Kamui's shoulder and went back to sleep.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Fai went back to Fujimoto's office the day after their big meeting. Despite what the man had said, Fai didn't simply take him at his word and show up at his door unannounced. He arranged a good time with him before ever leaving the meeting.
"Still no office assistant, I see," he said as he came in. There was a second desk in this office, there always had been, and it tended to be covered in random crap since nobody was using it to work from. It was completely cleaned off, now.
Fujimoto shrugged from his own desk. "I'm notoriously hard to please. Sayaka—er, Mrs. Okiura—has been vetting candidates for me so I can actually get some work done. Have a seat. You want some coffee?"
"No, thanks."
Fai had better drugs. He winced even as the thought went through his mind, and tried to cover it by reaching down to fiddle with a shoelace before seating himself. It was time for him to get a grip on himself, past time. He'd just had a fucking casual thought about his own cocaine addiction—
Yes, he thought to himself carefully. It was addiction now. And that meant he had to stop. Now.
"What can I do for you, Fai?" Fujimoto asked when he was silent for too long.
"I'm not even sure," Fai said pleasantly. He pushed everything from his mind so he could focus. He was good at that. "I just know that our image took a few hits over the summer, and I know that the possibility exists of us sinking into obscurity now that we're off the tour. You've worked here for a long time, and I thought maybe you. I don't know. Might have a few suggestions. Things we could do to make sure our reputation is solid and we don't get forgotten before the next album."
"You know that there is a marketing department for this studio who is probably finalizing a strategy for that right now," Fujimoto answered flatly. "And that it's not my job."
Fai shrugged, and grinned charmingly. "Well, yeah, but I like you better."
"I'm not making an enemy of my colleagues," Fujimoto smirked. "So I'm not doing this. And I definitely didn't tell you to start a video blog. And I absolutely will not sit here and go over which topics are safe and which topics aren't."
"You would never do that," Fai said blandly. "I came up with that idea all by myself. That video camera that I'm gonna have to buy is just something my mom had lying in the hallway closet for years, I'm sure."
"Anybody in the band good at video editing?" Fujimoto asked. "Because if not, I'm about to advise you, on the record, that a vblog is a terrible idea."
". . . I think Subaru and Fuuma both took some classes in high school. I'll ask."
"You do that."
Fai smiled, feeling better, with ideas for videos already lighting up his brain. "So what should I definitely not do?"
Fujimoto gave him a grim look. "I've heard some tales from the road, and your personal choices are none of my business—" Fai held his breath. "—look, don't drink alcohol on camera. I'm not asking, it's none of my business what you do in private as long as it stays in private, but roadies and groupies talk and there are comments online, and just—"
"Yeah, sure, not a problem," Fai sighed in relief. "Not a problem at all."
A rustling in the dark. A bark of laughter. A muffled voice saying, "Hey, how do you—?"
And then Subaru bathed in weak winter sunlight, sitting on top of the kitchen table and strumming an acoustic guitar. "Hey baby, won't you look my way," he sang, "I could be your new addiction—"
The camera panned over to show Kamui sitting in one of the chairs, strumming along beside him, and he sang the next line. "Hey baby, what you got to say, all you're giving me is fiction—"
The film showed them bobbing their heads, grinning at each other, and then panned over to show Fai at the stove making pancakes, a plain white apron tied over his jeans and tshirt. All of them were barefoot.
"Hello!" he said cheerfully, waving a spatula at the camera as Kamui and Subaru continued singing softly. "Welcome to our first video! We've never done one of these before and to be honest we all feel totally awkward, so I thought for the first one we could just keep it simple and show off the studio where we do a lot of our work. It's um, our house. I'm cooking. They're warming up. We're gonna try to write a song after pancakes. I wouldn't bore you with the whole 'I'm making pancakes' thing, but I had to bribe the camerawoman with breakfast to get her over here. Say hi, Sakura."
The camera flipped over dizzingly and pointed into Sakura's face from far too close up. "For the record, this is not our house, just theirs. I do not live in the bachelor pad. Anyway, hello. And don't think too badly of me. I would have come over anyway, but I'm manipulative and Fai makes amazing pancakes."
"Hey!" Fai cried out, and the smothered laughter was cut off. The film resumed to show that they'd retreated to the house's third bedroom, which was the music room, which was where they worked a lot, as Sakura explained. They'd written their entire first album in this room before they'd gotten signed on with a record company.
They'd set the camera up on a tripod. Set to their own music, there was a montage of footage of the four of them scribbling on scratch paper and banging things out on various instruments.
"I need a violin!" Fai shouted in the midst of the montage. "Why do none of us play the violin?"
The montage also included Kamui and Subaru doing their sibling-bickering thing, and then Touya and Yukito showing up and sitting down with them. Fai and Yukito started pelting each other with wadded-up paper, and there was a lot of laughter, and a shot of Touya and Yukito kissing. The music faded out along with the picture, and then the film cut to Fai sitting in front of the camera, the room empty around him.
"They all got bored and abandoned me," he said mournfully. "Actually, Subaru and Sakura had to go down to their school campus to register their classes for next semester. So they left it to me to thank everybody for watching our first video. I hope you had fun seeing what our writing process is like. We're a bunch of dorks, but I swear this actually takes a lot of work."
He made a serious face, and got a little closer to the camera. "Which brings me to something I wanted to say. We had the number two hit of the summer, and we worked hard for that. I've seen a lot of comments out there that are extremely impolite toward the artist who had the number one hit of the summer. She works hard, just like we do."
He turned on his heartbreaker smile. "I just wanted to apologize for any offense you might have felt, Miss Jepsen. I think you're wonderful. And just to prove it to everyone, what do you say we make our next big hit a collaboration? I'd love to work with you. So you know . . . Call me, maybe."
He fell to laughing. "Sorry, I had to do that. But seriously, have your people call my people. We have people for that, right? I feel like we have people for that. Anyway, just need to give a final shout-out to our fans. Thanks for sticking with us. We'll see you again soon."
The video ended, and Fai smiled at Subaru. It wasn't the greatest thing they'd ever made together, obviously. But it made all the relevant points. They were a family, they were generally wholesome, Touya and Yukito were absolutely together, they worked really hard and they cared about their fans.
"Carly Rae Jepsen?" Subaru asked, not for the first time.
Fai shrugged. "The studio has already been contacted by hers about doing a collaboration for some kind of Christmas album, so I threw it in there. They uh. Just want me, actually." He blushed and looked at his lap. "They want the two of us to do 'Baby It's Cold Outside' together. They don't need the whole band. I haven't . . . agreed to it yet."
Subaru put a hand on his shoulder and smiled. "You should. Why not? It sounds like fun."
"You don't think . . ."
"Nobody's gonna be mad at you. You're a musician now, go make music. We've all got other stuff we're pursuing on our own now that we're back home. Why shouldn't you?"
Fai smiled a little, and bumped their shoulders together. "I guess you're right."
Subaru got up and stretched his arms over his head. "Okay, if we're done editing, then I gotta go get some sleep. I had to work stupid-early this morning." Subaru had decided he wanted some structure and steady income before he went back to school in January, so he'd gotten himself a job at Starbucks. Nobody expected to see a rock star in a green apron, and his manager had no idea who he was, so he wasn't having any trouble keeping a low profile.
"All right. See you tomorrow."
Kamui was out somewhere. Looking for a job of his own, it seemed. He hadn't quite decided to go back to school, and now it was too late for him to sign up for the next semester, so he was going to have to wait until fall of next year. Fai had no idea what kind of job he was looking for.
"I should do music lessons," he mused. "Or go back to work at the bar. I kinda miss the bar."
He was chattering at himself as if distraction would keep it from happening, but he was already closing the door to his bedroom, and then the bathroom inside it. He was digging a plastic bag out from under his collection of hair-care products.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid," he muttered. "You are quitting. You are not doing this. You have already broken this habit once before. You can do it again. Put it the fuck away. No, you idiot. Flush it. Flush the fucking thing."
Instead, his hands were trembling as he swept a clear spot on the counter.
"You're worse off than last time. You're using more. You're gonna have to take this slow, but you can do this. Just half. Just take half of this much, you idiot."
He judged it by eye. Half. That was. Better. Better than trying to justify the amount he'd been using up until now. Half was better.
"You can do this. Half. And then a quarter. And then none. Yeah."
He stayed in the bathroom for a long time, sitting on the closed toilet with his hair twined in his fingers and hateful laughter bouncing off the walls.