Warnings for this chapter: a lot of conversations about gender identity and sexuality, and some kinda shitty parenting
It's hard to keep a straight face when I just want to smile
If you could see the look that's in your eyes
Like starlight crashing through the room
Kamui's hands were shaking when Subaru got into the car.
Subaru was quiet. He was always quiet after he finished therapy. Kamui didn't know why Subaru kept going when the only effect it seemed to have was to make him curl up in a ball of pain and grief for the rest of the day, so much so that Kamui drove him there to keep him from having to drive himself back. But it wasn't for Kamui to decide, their job was just to drive their twin home and make sure nobody bothered him. Be with him if he needed a body to cry on. Listen to him if he wanted to talk, which he rarely did.
"I want a milkshake," Subaru said suddenly.
Kamui's hands were still shaking, and maybe they shouldn't drive that way. Also, what? A milkshake? It was thirty seven degrees Fahrenheit.
"Kamui? What's wrong?"
"I . . . Yeah, milkshakes," they said. "I could use a milkshake. Sounds great. Where to, oh twin of mine?"
Subaru was staring at them, eyes soft and searching. "Kamui?"
They were totally a terrible person for doing this right after Subaru's therapy, but they honestly didn't feel like another day could go by without this conversation. It had been almost six weeks since they'd gotten home from the tour, and not talking about it wasn't helping. Everything just felt more mixed up, honestly. Kamui had spent so much of the last six weeks just . . . stuck. Stuck inside their own head, stuck inside their own fear. It had to stop, and they couldn't wait anymore.
"Let's, um. Let's find a place to sit down somewhere. I need to talk to you."
Subaru requested Dairy Queen, and Kamui didn't know of one anywhere close to the therapy practice, so they headed toward the recording studio instead. There was one only a block away, and their car had a sticker to park in the studio lot so they wouldn't waste half the day looking for good parking.
Kamui led them to a table that was as far from whining kids as he could get them, with the previously discussed milkshake (strawberry) in hand. Subaru's original desire had somehow morphed into something covered in chunks of brownie and smothered in caramel sauce, and he had the first bite in his mouth almost before he was fully seated on a slightly-sticky plastic seat.
"Mmm," he moaned. "God, I feel better already."
Kamui focused on watching the level of the pink milkshake sink instead of looking at Subaru. "Are you okay? I can wait. This can wait."
Subaru snorted. "This has been waiting too long already. Fuuma told me."
Kamui didn't expect to feel so thoroughly betrayed by that. But really, it made sense. Fuuma had to have been confused as hell, and who else would he ask than Subaru? Embarrassingly, they felt tears gathering. Really? They were going to cry over fucking Fuuma ratting them out to their own twin that they never had a problem talking to before?
"He didn't tell me much, mind you," Subaru added, shoveling a mouthful of chocolate and caramel and soft-serve into his mouth and leaving Kamui hanging for a good twenty seconds. "He just said you'd been texting him a lot, and he wasn't sure what was going on or how he could help."
"What did you say?" Kamui mumbled, and tried not to think about how it felt to realize that Fuuma hadn't broken their confidence. It was just more evidence that Fuuma never had deserved the harsh way Kamui always treated him.
"I told him to wait until you were ready to talk and maybe not say anything for now. I don't even know what all you texted him." Subaru's eyes were shrewd. "You picked him to talk to instead of me, so I guess that means you didn't want a conversation so much as a confessional."
"I picked him because you were right," Kamui said to the milkshake. "He's a good friend. And I am scared of him. Maybe this sounds weird, but I guess I just needed to know that I could talk to him, and then maybe it wouldn't be so hard to talk to other people."
Subaru ate his ice cream quietly, waiting for more. Kamui opened up their cell phone and pulled up his texting history with Fuuma, and showed Subaru the one that had given him them enough courage to open their mouth today. Why Fuuma seemed to be the only one who could reassure them, they didn't know. Or maybe it had to be Fuuma, in the end. Kamui knew better than to think all these years of doggedly following them around the country was anything but what Fuuma claimed it was: love. Kurogane had been right. Pretending it was anything less was cruel.
Subaru's eyes were soft as he took in Kamui's question (Would you hate me if I was a woman?) and Fuuma's response (No of course not. I said I would always care about you. You'll always be my friend. You're not alone, okay?), and when he looked up, he was smiling.
"That's what you want?" he asked. "I know the next few years are going to be really hard, but Kamui I'm so glad you figured out what—"
"No," Kamui interrupted. "I don't. Um. I don't want that. I've been reading a lot. I figured out what the problem really was."
"Okay," Subaru said cautiously.
"It was just, like, assuming there were only two options."
There was a flash of confusion, but Subaru nodded anyway.
"I'll show you the stuff I've been looking at online. It's, um, it's just that it's not true that there are only two genders and you have to exactly match one or the other. There's other things you can be, identify with, that aren't strictly in a binary."
Subaru's face cleared. "That makes total sense," he said warmly.
"You think so?" Kamui asked in relief, trying to hide in the milkshake again and finding it empty. "It seems like it's hard for a lot of people to understand, but I think, um, I think that's what I . . . I don't know what to call it. Just non-binary."
Subaru nodded calmly, and reached over to squeeze Kamui's hand for a moment. "Okay. I just need to know what that's going to mean, if it means anything. Do you, like, want to change your name? Are you—do you want any kind of surgery? I just— do I still tell people you're my brother?" And abruptly, Subaru was crying. "Oh, god, Kamui, I'm so sorry, this is great and I'm really happy, okay?"
"I'm still your twin," Kamui said, and found that they were also crying, not to mention that the shaking had returned to their hands, a fact discovered by trying to wipe the tears away before someone at another table could see them. "Subaru, don't— I'm your twin, so tell people that." The whole idea of losing Subaru in any way at all hadn't even occurred to them, and it was suddenly terrifying to think that anything would change their relationship. They wouldn't stop being twins because of this, Subaru had to see that.
Subaru nodded frantically, now gripping both of their hands. "Yeah, I can do that."
Kamui didn't try to stop the shaking, feeling so relieved that all this poisonous doubt was being leeched out through those hands on theirs. "I don't want to change my name, or change my body, or anything like that. Not right now. I just. Don't want anyone to think I'm a man, or call me 'him' or things like that. I might start dressing a little differently, I think I want to. That doesn't bother you?"
Subaru's face was gravely serious. "I want you to do what makes you happy even if it bothered me. But no, of course it doesn't."
Kamui had known they needed Subaru on their side, but his response to all this was better than they'd hoped for. Or maybe they just should have hoped for better than they had, because this was Subaru, after all. Emboldened, they continued. "I want to try doing some of the stuff I liked when I was a kid, again. The stuff you reminded me about. And I . . . I found this group therapy thing for people like me. I think I might need to go for a while. It's hard to feel like all of this is okay, for me to be doing this. I don't feel— I don't know, I don't feel good yet. I need— I want help."
It was getting too hard to talk, with how much both of them were trying to keep themselves under control in public. Subaru pulled Kamui up and swept up their trash and led them to the car in a whirlwind of movement. "Come on, I want to go home so we can both just kinda let this out," he said. "I really need to just hug you for a while. Kamui, I am so proud of you, do you know that?"
Kamui let Subaru drive. It was nice to just let all the relief wash over them.
"I want to tell a few people," they said. "Like I said, I don't like hearing 'he' and 'him' and I want people not to say it."
"What should we say instead?"
"Just 'they' is okay for now. That's neutral and I think it's easy for everybody. This is all kinda hard to figure out, you know? I think I'm aiming to be pretty androgynous, if I can. I don't know if that's the right word for what I want. That's part of the reason I feel like I want to go to this group thing. I kinda hope they just have some words for all of this that I can actually use."
"Who do you want to tell?"
Kamui shrugged. "You were the most important one. Will you, um, will you . . . help me? Tell Fai today? He should know."
"The whole band should know," Subaru said quietly. "But that's your decision."
Kamui dug their fingernails into the skin of their opposite hand, almost hard enough to break the skin. "I want to, I'm just worried. If any of them think it's stupid or something . . . I really like being in the Paper Cranes, Subaru. I love it. I—they're our friends. I don't want to lose any of it."
"Which one of them do you think is going to freak out, exactly?" Subaru asked, just a hint of dryness in his voice. "Yukito, right? Yukito is going to absolutely reject you with hate in his heart. And Sakura, oh wow, she's going to just lose it, I'm sure."
Kamui snorted. "Okay, yeah, you made your point, you shithead."
Subaru grabbed their hand and held it. Maybe to stop them from stabbing it with their own fingernails anymore. "It's up to you to decide if you really want to talk to them, and when. No pressure from me at all. Just help, if you want it. I'll be with you for every single person unless you don't want me to be."
They were almost home, and now Kamui just themself cry. There had been too much holding back, and they were tired of trying to keep it all in.
"I don't know yet. Thank you."
Subaru kept his eyes on the road but his hand was firm over his twin's. "I love you so much," he murmured. "I'm always going to be here for you."
Fai was in the kitchen when they came in, making cookies with his ever-present white apron tied on. He'd already made two batches of them in the past week, a spicy-sweet recipe that he claimed was a family Christmas tradition generations old. The cookies kept disappearing when the others came over for practice or writing sessions, hence the continual replenishment. (And, Kamui had to admit, they had personally accounted for at least a dozen of the things.)
Subaru looked like he wanted to hustle Kamui to the bedroom, but when Fai called out a greeting, they pulled out of Subaru's grip.
"No time like the present," they murmured.
Fai took in the twins' slightly-watery faces and paused his work. "What's going on?"
Kamui took a deep breath. "You might have noticed that lately I haven't been very . . ."
"Happy?" Fai suggested. "Nice? Stable? Hungry? Confident? Well-rested?"
Kamui scowled at him, and Fai did that thing where you just couldn't fight him, pulling Kamui into an embrace so loving that you had to take it even if you weren't a hugging type of person.
"Whatever it is can't be worth torturing yourself like this," Fai said. "Or telling yourself your friends can't be here for you. I'm here, okay?"
"I'm not a boy," Kamui blurted out. "Not male-gendered."
Fai patted their hair. "I suspected."
"You . . . you did?"
"Mmm-hmm. The question is, are you gonna be okay?"
Subaru was his twin and all, was as much love as you could find in one person, but Kamui felt a little different in Fai's arms. Fai seemed so much more put-together than either of them, always had. More mature or experienced or something, or just better able to take on the world and win. Something about his hug felt like protection. So Kamui stayed there for a while, his face buried in the sweet-smelling apron, probably gluing them together with damp flour.
"I'm gonna be okay," they said, muffled. "Thanks."
"Have you decided what you'd like to be called?"
"Kamui," they replied quickly.
Fai chuckled. "And what else?"
"They," Subaru supplied. "Kamui would like to be non-binary, for now."
"Ah, okay. They, them, theirself?"
Kamui unburied their face to frown at Fai. "How do you know so much about this?"
"Queer club at school," he replied, unfazed. "Have you found some good resources? Did you see some of the other pronouns that are possible?"
"I like 'they'."
"Okay, no problem," Fai said, and dropped a surprising kiss to the top of Kamui's head. "I'm sorry that I've been misgendering you. I won't do it again."
Kamui wanted to stay in the kitchen and help Fai bake. They didn't know why, exactly, just that it seemed safe and warm and simple. But Subaru needed them, too. Subaru had just been through a half-hour of talking out his own issues with his therapist, and then finding out that his twin's whole identity was shifting. Kamui should take Subaru to their room to get him some space.
But Subaru was rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. "Can we help?"
Kamui stared at him for a minute. Subaru didn't back down.
"Come on, I can fall apart just as easily later. Let's help Fai get this done so he's not late for work."
"I don't have work today," Fai said smugly. "Go away and fall apart."
"You always work on Fridays."
"Yeah, well, I took it off. I, uh. Have a date."
Kamui smirked at him. "Another one already? Didn't you guys just go out for coffee on Tuesday?"
Fai gave him a look of grave importance. "Three dates in seven days is a perfectly normal number of dates, thank you."
"Maybe they'll set a record tonight and go for a full twenty minutes on the front porch," Kamui said to Subaru in very obvious sotto voce before turning back to Fai. "Is that where you were last night? Working to make up for not going in tonight?"
A strange look crossed Fai's face. "Yeah," he said.
He was lying. Kamui didn't know why he would do that, but he was lying. Where had he been yesterday?
(six years and one month ago)
Subaru was watching internet videos in his room, fingering his guitar strings to try to copy what he was seeing. His mother was still paying for their guitar lessons, but their guitar teacher either didn't consider the Lord of the Rings movie soundtracks to be suitable material or how no idea how to teach them. Subaru's softly-voiced wish to learn a few weeks ago had gotten no attention whatsoever.
Kamui was more interested in learning how to play ripping rock solos from the seventies and eighties, which he was learning off Youtube tutorials just like Subaru. They were both very good guitarists, not to mention singers, but Kamui was fast and powerful where Subaru was only skilled. Kamui had this passion in it that Subaru couldn't seem to get at. It was like he and the music understood each other.
At least someone understood Kamui, Subaru thought wistfully. Nobody else seemed to.
Raised voices in the hallway made him wince. He debated between turning up the volume, putting on headphones, or just listening to the fight. Kamui and Mom argued all the time, but lately it had taken on this kind of vicious edge that made Subaru worry.
Staying out of the way seemed like the best idea, usually. Which wasn't hard. Mom's policy since he was about four was to ignore him as much as possible. He eavesdropped a lot and should probably feel guilty about it, but didn't. It was the only way to navigate a safe pathway through this house. Once he'd overheard Mom and Dad talking pretty late at night, when he and Kamui were supposedly asleep, about what to do with Subaru. Like something needed to be done with him? Actually it was mostly just Mom talking. Dad hardly ever had anything to say. Mom had said out loud that she didn't know where Subaru had come from.
He had been, very briefly, tempted to stick his head in and remind her that she'd popped him out less than ten minutes before Kamui. He had gone back to bed instead. Staying out of the way, that was his thing.
Kamui took a different approach. The kind where he confronted her about everything in the world and they shouted themselves hoarse and then retreated to lick their wounds. Subaru didn't know why he wasted so much energy on it. Kamui did everything she wanted, in the end.
"Acting?" she screeched, right outside Subaru's door. He jumped.
"Yes, Mother, acting. On the stage."
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Kamui. I could understand if you took an interest in movie acting. There's fame and money if you can get a break. But stage acting? I might expect something like that of your brother, but I would have hoped that you'd have a more clever ambition."
"Subaru? Are you kidding? Oh, geez Mom, seriously? Because only gay people are stage actors, right? Or do you just think that Subaru is only good for so much and I can do better?"
Subaru pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. It was fine. This was fine. He wasn't going to cry. He didn't care what Mom thought. He didn't.
"Do you have a problem with my brother?" Kamui was snarling, and his fist hit the wall right beside Subaru's door.
"I do not. Calm down right now, young man. You can be headstrong all you want, but don't you dare raise your hand or your voice to your mother."
"I wasn't going to hit you," Kamui said, as though it was funny. "Mom, come on."
"Are you settled? Good. Now listen: if you want to be successful as a stage actor, then you have to work your butt off for years doing bit parts and sucking up to directors. It'll be years before it makes you any money, before anyone notices you."
"Yeah?" he said challengingly.
Mom chuckled. "So you're prepared for that."
Subaru could just see the look on Kamui's face. Fifteen years old and already so sure of himself. He probably was crossing his arms over his chest and smirking at her.
"Yeah, I am. I'm talented. I can sing and dance and play guitar and I am, believe it or not, a good actor. At least according to the drama teacher. I can do stuff with those talents, Mom. I don't have to go into business to be successful."
"I know that," she said, sounding fond all of a sudden. It made Subaru feel bile in his throat. He couldn't stand the way the two of them were with one another. Like all the yelling and posturing and pride was what they actually liked about each other or something. "So, fine. Try out for the play. Prove to me that you have the talent and inclination. Do that, and you may continue to participate in drama during school. And then if you've proved to me that it can hold your interest and you are willing to keep working hard, I will consider paying for a degree in theater."
Kamui was silent for a moment. "I didn't say I wanted you to pay for a degree in theater, Mom. Geez, what is with you? Do I have to be thinking about my damn future all the time? Did you think that sometimes I just want to do something for fun? I just asked if I could try out for the damn school play."
"Don't swear at me, young man."
"Yes, ma'am."
"You may try out for the play. You may also go to your room and think until dinner about the proper way to apologize for being disrespectful. I'm not done talking about whether or not you have a future in this, but I will defer it until this spring when the play is over."
"Oh my god, Mom. You are impossible."
"Go to your room, Kamui."
"Can I go to Subaru's room instead? We're supposed to practice a piece for our guitar teacher."
Subaru couldn't hear, but he just knew she was sighing dramatically. And then her footsteps retreated down the hallway, and Kamui opened his door.
"I would have knocked, but I knew you were listening," he announced.
Subaru glared at him until he had to blink and it released the held-back tears.
"Aw, come on," Kamui said softly, closing the door and hurrying across the room to him. "Don't listen to her, Subaru, you know better."
"I don't get you guys," he sniffled as he let Kamui hug him.
"Yeah, I know. Don't worry about it, okay? You know as soon as we turn eighteen we can just stop dealing with her."
Subaru had been worried since they were small children that there would never be a day where the shadow of their mother didn't haunt Kamui. But he could never say that to his twin. Today, he just re-started the video he was watching and tried not to feel jealous when Kamui got it perfect on the second repetition.
Fuuma had borrowed one of the acoustic guitars for a couple of days, saying cheerfully that he was going to learn how to play a little bit, just to fit in better with the crowd. It was generally true. He had started to wish recently that he understand what made his friends all crave it and come back to it and give years of their lives to it. 'It' being music. Guitar seemed the easiest place to start.
But apparently Kurogane's healing and grieving process hadn't recovered quite enough to handle a guitar in his apartment, and he kept leaving anytime Fuuma dragged it out. He said it wasn't a big deal and it wasn't exactly skin off his nose to hang out with Touya and Yukito for an hour or two if Fuuma wanted to practice. But Fuuma felt bad about it, and he was so not wanting to be the reason that Kurogane fell off the wagon or something. For one thing, Touya could take Fuuma out. And if he couldn't do it on his own, Fuuma had his suspicions that the ex-boyfriend would help.
That was how he'd wound up here, in a belching contest with Sakura that he appeared to be losing.
Well, actually, he'd come to bring back the guitar and thank Subaru for letting him borrow it and see if it would bother them too much if he practiced here at their place instead. (Side benefit: scoring free lessons from professionals.) But then he'd accepted the soda that Sakura had lobbed at him, and they'd given each other one of those challenging looks, and he'd won the chugging contest.
She was beating him in the belching contest though. He always had liked this girl.
Kamui was sitting off to the side looking kind of sickened while Subaru buried his face in his arms and laughed helplessly. Touya and Yukito were here, too, frowning together over a keyboard and discussing some finer point of Touya's contribution to the song they were working on. They were ignoring the whole thing completely. Probably they were used to Sakura by now.
Fai had disappeared around fifteen minutes ago. He said he wanted to get some snacks ready before their guest arrived.
This whole "guest" thing was apparently making things a little tense, Fuuma gathered. Fai had said they might need to add a new member to the band, and he asked if everyone was willing to keep an open mind and meet his friend and talk it over before passing judgement. Touya and Yukito had been blasé about the whole thing, saying bring the friend over to jam during practice so they could see how well they fit in. Sakura, ever the sweetheart, said she was looking forward to meeting them.
Kamui and Subaru weren't very happy about it. Fuuma obviously had no say in what the band did and he supposed he should probably agree with the majority or whatever. But hey, it was the twins that he'd been friends with since they were in high school and it was their opinion that really counted with him. He was fully prepared to dislike this person for making them uncomfortable.
Honestly, he probably shouldn't even be here for the first meeting. He wasn't a member of the band. Yeah, he should go.
He couldn't seem to make himself do it, though. He had spent too much of his time these past couple of months worrying about Kamui, and now he didn't want to leave them feeling ganged up on in a moment that was causing them so much anxiety.
Kamui had told him about the whole gender thing just a few days ago, and seemed kind of surprised when Fuuma didn't freak out about it. Seriously, though, he didn't get why he would freak. Yeah, it might change a few things, but so what? Kamui had stopped pushing him away all the time, so that couldn't be anything but good, right? Kamui was allowed to be whatever they wanted to be, and so far it was just making the two of them closer. Like real actual friends. He wanted that way more than he wanted a fulfillment of any fantasy he'd ever had about them as a couple.
So now everyone in the band, plus Fuuma, knew that Kamui was "they" and things had been better. Everyone had been really nice about it, and apparently a couple of them even apologized for every time they had inadvertently made Kamui feel uncomfortable. Kamui had been more relaxed, started sleeping better. Everything was going swimmingly until Fai announced that he wanted them to think about bringing in a new musician.
Kamui was right back on edge. They weren't showing it, Fuuma thought, eyeing his friend critically. They looked better than they had in weeks. They'd even been experimenting a little bit, wearing more makeup than they ever had before, at least offstage. The clothes hadn't changed much yet, even though they said they might try wearing more feminine stuff soon. But he knew they were nervous as hell and unhappy about Fai's timing, because the two of them texted a lot now and Kamui had told him so.
"Yo, Fuuma, you okay?" Sakura asked him suddenly.
He'd forgotten they were in a belch-off.
"Yeah," he said hurriedly, looking away from Kamui before he could get accused of being creepy. "I was just thinking I should probably get out of here before Fai's buddy comes by."
"You should stay," Subaru said immediately. Fuuma could tell he was saying it on Kamui's behalf, because Kamui's hands were tight with tension on their guitar. "Hell, Kurogane should be here," he joked.
"That is not a good idea," Yukito blurted out before realizing Subaru was kidding.
Sakura was nodding, though, taking it just as seriously. "We do kinda treat him like a band member a lot, I think it might be kinda pushing him too hard."
"Aren't him and Fai like, sucking face ninety percent of the time these days?" Fuuma asked in surprise. "It would make more sense for him to be here than me right now. Seriously, I'm gonna get going. You guys have fun with your meeting-jam-session-thing."
Fai pushed open the door with his foot and shoved a tray into Fuuma's hands. He looked down at cheese, crackers, and vegetables with some sort of dip and wondered how this had taken Fai such a long time when he could have been in here getting made fun of for kissing too much. Fai said, "Put that somewhere, I gotta go get the door."
"Okay, his friend's here," Fuuma said inanely, attempting to put the tray on top of the shelf full of music books.
Kamui took the tray from him and rolled their eyes. "We have a table, moron."
Fuuma gestured helplessly at the small table, which was covered in papers. "I didn't want to put it on top of your . . . stuff."
Kamui just rolled their eyes again as Subaru moved to stack all the musical notations and lyrics into a tidy pile. Fuuma made a face at them and dodged a kick at his ankle. He pouted. "So mean." Not much had changed, he thought happily. All must be righting itself in the world if they could safely behave like asses toward each other again.
And then this girl walked in. Fuuma noticed when it happened because Sakura accidentally kicked her cymbal pedal out of shock or something, and the girl's entrance was accompanied by the loud clang. Fai was right behind her, smiling his best we're-all-professionals-here smile.
"Hey, everybody. This is Tomoyo. Tomoyo, meet the Paper Cranes. And Fuuma."
Everybody was kind of lost, for a few seconds. She was petite and pretty and sweet-looking and very young. Everybody had kind of been expecting maybe a friend of Fai's from school or something, and they'd all been racking their brains trying to think of what instrument he seemed to think was missing from the band. Now here was this adorable thing with long hair and a violin case, wearing a frilly fitted blouse and looking like one of those girls who literally lived in high heels and probably went to finishing school.
"Yeah, Fuuma is me," he volunteered, abruptly. "I just do lights and sound."
She immediately blossomed with warmth and shook his head. "It's nice to meet you, Fuuma. Nice to meet all of you, of course. Fuuma, I know how important your job is, don't downplay yourself, okay? Oh, Fai, where can I set this down?"
Fai gallantly took the violin case from her and put it against the wall by Sakura and her drum set. Sakura was kinda still just staring at the girl. Who was unbelievable, so Fuuma didn't blame her. She was the kind of girl he was usually terrified of, but she was so nice.
Touya and Yukito were doing that married thing, when they did stuff simultaneously and as a unit. Fuuma wasn't sure if they knew they did that, did it on purpose, or what. They came forward at the same time, introduced themselves together, and welcomed her to their practice. Fuuma was still standing close enough to Kamui that he could nudge them and get them moving before it became too obvious that they were holding back.
"I'm Kamui," they said, not meeting her eyes as they shook hands. That seemed to be all Kamui could manage or all they could think of to say, and Fuuma wondered if he could put a hand on their shoulder to be supportive without getting it bitten off.
"And I'm their twin brother, Subaru." Leave it to Subaru to draw it out into the open so subtly and with the burden of it falling more on him.
Tomoyo's brow knit together for a moment as if looking for the extra party in the room Subaru was referring to, then it smoothed out into a pleasant smile once more. "Oh, singular 'their' of course," she said happily. "Sure, it's nice to meet you, Kamui, Subaru."
She turned her eyes toward the back, where Sakura was still sitting at her drum set, and she seemed to become just a little more shy, suddenly. Maybe she wasn't as confident as she looked, and was just responding to them. Sakura wasn't making it easy.
"Oi, brat," her brother drawled lazily. "You might want to like, stand up for a second or something."
"Yes, I definitely want to do that," Sakura said mechanically, her eyes just locked on this new girl. "I'm Sakura," she said, holding out her hand and her cheeks suffused with pink. Wow, Fuuma had never seen her get so embarrassed. Was it some kind of weird girl thing he didn't understand? Was it weirder for two girls to meet each other or something?
"I'm Tomoyo," the dark-haired girl said.
"Yeah, Fai said— oh, sorry, it's um, it's so nice to meet you. So you play violin?"
"I do, yes."
"I'm the drummer." Yeah, no shit, Sakura. "Wow, I never thought of having a violinist in the band. I'm really looking forward to giving this a try."
"Me, too," Tomoyo said in a rush. "When Fai said you might be looking to do this, I was just so excited to get the chance to meet you. Um. To meet all of you."
Fai was over there looking like he was going to die any second now, for some reason. He had that expression that said he was only holding back his laughter because he knew better.
"All right, everybody," he said cheerfully. "Let's get Tomoyo a seat, let's grab some munchies, and let's talk about some of the ideas I've had for Tomoyo's role in the band . . . Fuuma, if you're going to stick around, can you be helpful and get everybody something to drink?"
"Yeah, sure," he muttered. Kamui was looking less desperate, but he was already here so now it would seem rude if he left, right?
He spent the next two hours just scuttling around the edges of the room and being very impressed by things he didn't understand. Tomoyo got out her violin and played a little bit, and Kamui was the one who made it immediately obvious that she really might be one of the Paper Cranes. They grabbed their guitar and started playing right alongside her, improvising their way through it, and the two of them went on together for a couple of minutes before suddenly Yukito jumped in with a steady grooving beat that supported the whole thing really well.
Fai was rasping something almost under his breath, bobbing his head, his fingers picking at some instrument that seemed to be in his own head. Touya and Subaru didn't seem to have any ideas yet, and they were just watching, but Sakura started skittering out some quiet little accompaniment. It was starting to sound like a song.
The big hit was probably when Tomoyo asked shyly if Sakura would play something heavy and hard, just make something up, and Sakura obliged with a riff off her Pinocchio solo. Tomoyo stood up and started grinding out this fast, pulsing thing, and that was when Touya and Fai started grinning like lunatics at each other.
"Okay, yeah, now we've got something," Touya said happily. "You have got some serious stage presence, sweetheart."
Tomoyo stopped, wiping at the beginnings of sweat on her forehead, and pointed her bow at him. "Number one, I would appreciate it if you wouldn't call me sweetheart. Number two, of course I have stage presence, I'm a performer."
"She's a dancer, actually," Fai said with a laugh. "She's been with the Joffrey Ballet for over a year, now."
"Wait, you're a ballerina?"
Tomoyo gave Touya a very challenging look. Then she slowly leaned forward, balancing herself on one leg as she drew the other up behind her. Fuuma found himself holding his breath as she lifted her arms up in an arch, and then, somehow, she had made herself into one graceful curve with her arms and one leg over her head. She was holding her entire body on the ball of one foot, like she would any moment lift onto her toes. Fuuma was unaware the human body could even do that and gaped like a dumb shit. He had nothing on Sakura, though.
Sakura had been attempting to prove that she was not as surprised as Touya about the whole thing, and had gone for a nonchalant sip of her drink. And missed her mouth. Soda cascaded down the front of her white t-shirt while she gawked. It took her a full minute to even notice the shirt plastered to her chest and dyed lurid orange, despite the fact that Tomoyo had reverted to a normal human form and everyone was staring at Sakura instead.
"Um," she squeaked, looking down at her chest. "Oops?"
Yukito's hand was plastered onto Touya's mouth. Touya looked like he was in pain from trying to hold back his laughter. Fuuma understood the feeling.
"Fai, can I use your bathroom?" Sakura said, already jolting up and hurrying for the door.
"The other one is closer," he said, grabbing her elbow. "And cleaner. Sorry, twins, we're borrowing yours!"
Subaru looked like he wanted to follow them and help, but instead he played the part of getting things back to normal and less awkward. He smiled and started asking Tomoyo questions about her dancing career and gradually coaxed Touya back from the brink of laughing his head off at his baby sister and into working on a song with Tomoyo. Fuuma was impressed. He knew Subaru had hidden depths, but it was always fun to see him take charge.
Eventually Sakura turned up sheepishly in one of Fai's t-shirts and they got back to making music.
It wasn't until Kurogane turned up that Fuuma remembered he had Kurogane's car and should probably not have kept it for three hours unexpectedly and ignored phone calls in favor of watching Sakura be klutzy in front of the ballerina.
"How did you even get here?" he asked stupidly, having been sent to answer the doorbell so the others could keep working.
"Touya's dumb shit friend Eriol dropped me off," Kurogane said.
Fuuma winced. He'd heard about Touya's dumb shit friend before. Apparently Kurogane was not a fan. "Sorry, boss," he said. "But hey, you're at your boyfriend's house for a surprise visit, yayyyyy."
Kurogane rolled his eyes. "Three dates. Not my boyfriend."
"Still only three?"
Kurogane shrugged. "Guess he's been getting called into work at the bar a lot. Anyway, I just had Eriol drive by here to see if the car was here, which it is, so now you get to go on errands with me, yayyyy." Fuuma did not appreciate the mocking imitation. He was so much cuter than Kurogane when he said it. "But since I'm here and all, I should . . ." He frowned, his attention focused on the noise coming from deeper in the house. "Is Fai playing violin now? Is that a thing?"
"Ah, nope. Tiny cute Asian girl that is a friend of his is playing the violin, which is apparently a thing. Also Sakura dumped a soda on her own chest when the tiny cute girl was showing off, so we either have the beginnings of a great friendship or a jealous rivalry brewing. Maybe we'll have some kind of final death match because there's only room for one girl in this band and Sakura isn't going to stand for the pretty pretty princess."
Kurogane looked less than thrilled about the whole thing, and he ignored most of Fuuma's commentary. "I'm not gonna interrupt them. If you want to stay, feel free, but Touya's got to drop you off because I'm taking the car."
"Naw, I've been here playing butler for like three hours," he shrugged. "I can play chauffeur instead."
"Who's playing chauffeur? It's my car."
Fuuma grinned. "Chauffeurs drive the bosses' cars because the bosses are too important to drive themselves."
"Right. Well, go tell them you're leaving or something then."
Fai's head poked out from around the corner. "Fuuma, who was—oh. Hi."
"Don't sound so enthusiastic," Kurogane drawled.
Fai came rushing across the room to throw himself dramatically onto Kurogane's chest. "Darling," he simpered. "You've come at last. I've missed you so." He grinned up at Kurogane. "Is that better?"
"You're such a moron," Kurogane scoffed, and then there was kissing and Fuuma decided he was with Kamui on the whole did-not-need-to-see-that thing when it came to the bosses kissing. Ew.
"Get a room," he muttered.
"It's my house," Fai said cheerfully, grabbing a handful of Kurogane's ass and squeezing just to drive the point home.
Kurogane yelped and shoved Fai back. "Don't do that, weirdo!"
"Tiny cute Asian girl alert!" Fuuma said, chipper. He could have told them that Tomoyo had made an entrance before the butt grab, but where would be the fun in that?
Kurogane whirled around with a look of panic on his face, but Tomoyo just wiggled her fingers in a cutesy greeting. She was pretty chill, Fuuma thought. Maybe she'd be good for the band after all.
"Fai, I have to get going. I have a show tonight."
"Okay," he said, coming over to give her a hug. "Thanks for coming. You had fun?"
"I had fun," she confirmed, and her smile seemed genuine.
"Okay. We have a lot to talk about, obviously . . ."
"The band needs to talk about me, you mean," she said with a little laugh. "Which is fine. I'm really booked until after Christmas, so there's no rush on any of us making a decision. Take your time."
"Thanks, love," Fai said warmly, and then they air-kissed.
"You get really gay when you're dating a boy, did you know that?" Tomoyo laughed, and tugged a lock of his hair teasingly.
He looked serious at that. "About that . . ."
She mimed zipping her lips shut. "I know nothing."
"Good girl."
"What are your plans for Thanksgiving, by the way? Ashura and Mom are getting a group from the orchestra to volunteer at a soup kitchen and then come to our place for some dessert and coffee and wine. You want to join us?"
That made Kurogane glare at Fai, but Fai turned back to Tomoyo with a bland smile. "Ah, I'd love to, but I've already got plans. Thanks. Tell your mom I'm not responsible for corrupting you, okay?"
"Are you kidding?" Tomoyo said, sounding scandalized. "Mom has no idea about any of this. I do not need to spend Thanksgiving getting the third degree over making up my mind and being responsible and mature. I'm not telling her I tried out for a band, I'm telling her I ran into you at the grocery store."
Fai laughed. "Okay, fine. I'll call you, love. Have a fun holiday."
"Bye. Fuuma, nice to meet you. Fai's arm candy, sorry to run before meeting you properly."
Kurogane bristled, but she was gracefully sweeping past him already and leaving him looking about as useful as a wet match.
"I like this girl," Fuuma grinned.
"Shut the fuck up, Fuuma," Kurogane muttered.
Everyone else was starting to trickle out of the studio room, Sakura and Subaru carrying the dishes and leftover snacks.
"Speaking of Thanksgiving," Fuuma spoke up, "um. That's in like three days, right?" He usually spent a lot of energy not thinking about how he wasn't welcome at home. He wasn't very excited about the possibility of spending Thursday alone in the apartment playing video games and pretending he didn't care if Kakyo was sitting in his spot at the dinner table.
"Everybody's coming home with us," Sakura said firmly. "My dad is already putting the extra leaf in the dining table, you do not have a choice. There will be friends stopping by all day, but the band is required to be there for actual dinner. Yes, Fuuma, that includes you. If any of you make my dad sad by not coming to Thanksgiving dinner, I don't know you."
"See, you're not getting out of this," Kurogane said, back to glaring at Fai.
Fai spread his hands to the room at large in an apologetic gesture. "I told work that I'd come in that day. I wanted to make sure as many people can be home with their families as possible, so me and one other girl plus the cook are going to try to handle the whole day."
"And why isn't it important for you to get to hang out with us?" Sakura asked, hands on her hips, looking dangerous.
"I get to be with you guys all the time," he protested.
"Dad is going to lose his mind," Touya said. "He has been asking when he gets to meet you for like, three years. He's met the twins, you know. They've been over."
Fai made a helpless, whining noise.
"Fine," Touya said grumpily. "But you're coming to the ugly Christmas sweater party at my place even if we have to tie you up and carry you."
Fai promised he would make sure to come to that, and everything seemed fine except for Kurogane. Fuuma watched him. He kept looking at Fai with narrow eyes, completely unappeased. Something was going on, there. Fuuma didn't know what, and it was hard to get the boss to talk about shit like that. He'd just have to keep an eye on things.
. . . he really didn't know when he turned into the group's den mother. He really needed less messy friends.
(seven years ago)
"Hey," Syaoran said as she entered the room.
"Ugh," she answered, throwing her bag on the floor and flopping onto her back on the bed.
"That bad?" he asked without much concern, not raising his eyes from the book he was reading. Some fantasy novel. He went through about one every week, lately.
She wriggled upward on the bed until she could pillow her head against his leg. Usually they left school at the same time, but now that she was in band she would be staying at the school for an extra hour and change. Her first day and already she didn't like it, so this whole thing where she came home to find her best friend waiting for her in her room was nice.
"It's just, there's this girl," Sakura said, throwing an arm over her eyes so she wouldn't have to make eye contact. "She's so . . . I don't know. Pretty and perfect and stuff. She plays the flute for the band. Her nails are perfect and she has cute hair and cute clothes and just . . . it was really awkward."
"Awkward? How come?" The rustling noise signalled that he was putting the book down to focus on her. That was nice, too. Syaoran was always like that, though. She knew a lot of people didn't see him for who he was. He was never good at focusing in class and he had a short fuse on his temper, so he was always getting into trouble. But he was one of the sweetest people she'd ever met. Maybe it was because Kurogane had done so much of the work of raising him, or maybe he was just born that way. She just knew that people saw him all wrong. He was generous and respectful and easily embarrassed and warm.
She kind of liked that she got to have so much of that to herself, which was too embarrassing to admit.
"I don't know. I'm not girly, you know? I just. I'm athletic and I play drums and I like dressing kind of boyish sometimes and I like hanging out with girls but I'm just not good at being a girl. Or something."
Syaoran suddenly scooted down so he was laying next to her. He plucked her arm away so he could look at her seriously. "Was the other girl making fun of you?"
"Not—not so you could call her out on it. But yeah."
"You know that there are exactly zero rules for how to be a girl, right? You just are one if you say you're one, and everybody can go to hell if they don't like it."
His eyes were all fierce, like he was ready to get in a fight on her behalf. Again, he got in a lot of trouble at school. He wasn't very good at holding himself back when he thought something was worth fighting about. He'd rather be in trouble than let a problem exist. It had caused Kurogane so much stress, poor guy. Lydia might be the one who got the phone calls, but Kurogane was the one who worried about Syaoran's suspension record and his grades, the one who talked to him about his problems to find out if he could help—and got yelled at by Lydia for setting a bad example all the time. Even though he was twenty and he'd moved out, she still treated him that way.
She'd been overhearing some hushed conversations between Touya and Yukito, about how Kurogane was really stressed lately and not sleeping well, about how he was drinking too much to cope with it and wouldn't listen anymore, about how the band wouldn't make it if he wasn't healthy and focused. They'd been through three drummers already because nobody wanted to stay and work with the temperamental lead singer and guitarist. Maybe it was selfish, but she didn't want to think about it right now. She just wanted to lay here with Syaoran and feel reassured that there was nothing wrong with her.
She smiled at him, feeling warm all over because of how much he cared about her. "Yeah, I know."
"You're perfect the way you are."
"You sound like Dad."
Syaoran made a face, but he was smiling. "It's still true."
"Where is Dad, by the way?"
"Uh, he had to work late. He called me and said to tell you. He said he'll stop and get something for dinner on the way home."
Syaoran and Kurogane had both had a key to the Kinomoto house practically since day one, so Sakura didn't need to ask how he'd gotten inside. He tended to come over here instead of going home whenever he could. He didn't want to be around his mom much, anymore.
"I was thinking, maybe you and I could try to cook, though?" Syaoran said hopefully. "I know it's your dad's turn, but still."
"Yeah, sure," Sakura said, beaming at him. Syaoran could hardly help his own upbringing, and he'd changed a lot over the past few years. He actually looked for ways to make Dad's life easier after recognizing how hard it was to raise a kid. It had taken the two of them getting a little older to see what Dad and Touya had always seen, that his own mother wasn't really much of a parent and Kurogane was the one who'd been raising him. Syaoran spent a lot of time looking for ways to make Kurogane's life easier too.
"But if you're tired, I can try to figure it out," he added.
"You'll probably just burn down the kitchen," she said, rolling her eyes and moving to sit up.
He trapped her against his chest with an arm thrown across her shoulders from behind. "Hey. You sure you're okay? You're beautiful, you know."
All her breath left her in a whoosh. Things had started to be weird between them, but she had been wondering if that was just her. Syaoran had never been afraid to say nice things to her. She didn't know how to interpret a boy telling her she was beautiful. They were fourteen. Maybe he meant beautiful person, and maybe he was trying to tell her that he was into her. She couldn't tell. It was making her really nervous, lately.
"Syaoran? Do you . . . um."
Oh god this was so embarrassing. How did you even ask a question like this? Especially when the person you were talking to was holding you like this?
"It's okay," he said softly. "Ask me anything."
"Do you really think I'm beautiful?"
He was quiet for too long. She wriggled out of his grip and tried to run away, but he grabbed her hand and held her like that. They both looked at the ground, their cheeks pink while he sat on the edge of the bed and held her standing beside him.
"You want to know if that girl might think you're beautiful, right? Isn't that what you want to ask?"
"What do you mean?" she asked helplessly, but her mouth was dry.
"I don't know. You just . . . you talk about other girls a lot. About how pretty they are. You always notice when a girl's got nice hair or cute clothes or something. And I know you had a huge crush on the health teacher last year, you can't even deny that after you followed her around and blushed all the time and tried to grow your hair out like hers. So. Um. You can tell me if I'm wrong, but . . . you are into girls, aren't you?"
Sakura swallowed down hard on the lump in her throat. Syaoran was her best friend, and he wasn't dumb, so maybe she should have known that he'd see it. "Is 'maybe' an answer?" she blurted out.
He squeezed her hand. "Yeah, that's an answer. It's okay, Sakura."
"Is it?" she asked desperately. "Syaoran, you . . . you like me, right?"
"Yeah," he admitted. "I always have. I'm really sorry if that's weird. We can still be friends, can't we?"
"But Syaoran," she said, trying to tell herself that the rapid thumping of her heart did not mean she was having some kind of medical emergency. "I, um. I like you, too."
He looked up at her, hope flashing in his eyes. "But I thought that you . . ."
She snorted. "And you're gonna tell me that you're not at least probably bisexual, right?"
He flushed deeply and let go of her hand.
She sat back down beside him on the bed, and suddenly felt herself laughing. "You and I are a total disaster," she giggled.
"Ugh," he muttered.
"If I like you and if you like me then . . . it's okay, isn't it? Even if I think I might, you know, might like girls, I like you more than any of that."
"Sakura, I— yeah. If that's the way you feel, but I just want you to be happy."
"Even if that meant I was with, you know, with a girl and not you?"
"You're my best friend, Sakura. I love you no matter what. If you want to be with me, I'd be the luckiest guy ever. But if you can't, then I'll still be your friend. I want you to be happy more than anything."
"I'm happy with you," she whispered, and felt her cheeks wet with tears. "I'm always happy with you. I'd rather be with you than anyone else."
Their first kiss was terrible. It was nothing like practice-kissing in the mirror. They puckered their lips too much and it was dry and they sort of just breathed on each other and twisted their lips around into different shapes. Sakura broke away first, giggling again. She shoved him down flat onto his back on the bed.
"I think we need to practice that," she laughed.
"A lot," he said with wide eyes. "We need so much practice."
"Oh my god, do not start being perverted or something. Besides, we're supposed to be cooking dinner for my dad. Come on, let's go see what's in the fridge."
"But Sakura," he whined. "I'm allowed to kiss you now. All other things can wait."
She kicked him right square in the butt as she waved him out of her bedroom. "Give me a break, we're fourteen, we have like sixty years for kissing and my dad will probably be home in half an hour."
"Sixty years, huh?"
She blushed and the shyness came back. "Well, maybe I'm getting ahead of myself."
"Naw," he said softly, blushing just as brightly. "Maybe not."
"So I said, 'What kind of name is Apocalypse Now if you're just going to sing sappy ballads about a girl who's not interested all the time?' and he says, 'It's ironic, hipsters love ironic shit.' I swear this is his plan. This is the whole plan. Record sappy indie hispter love songs and get them played in coffee shops all over the country in the hopes that this girl he met at summer camp five years ago will hear it and come find him."
Touya was regaling them with the tale of yet another weirdo he was working with. In addition to giving piano lessons, he was working as a studio artist for Piffle and doing keyboard work for a lot of their musicians.
"Apocalypse Now, have mercy," Fai gasped, wiping the corners of his eyes. He had some kind of chest cold, and apparently laughing was painful. He wheezed. "I have to meet this guy. What was his name?"
"Sorata. You probably will. Hell, he'll probably ask you to play the glockenspiel or something for one of his songs. Everyone at Piffle knows you play nonsense instruments and are totally full of weirdo indie hipster bullshit."
Yukito couldn't help smirking at him. "Dear, far be it from me to ruin your moment, but your favorite accessory is a pair of leather suspenders and you are wearing them right now. You are absolutely the last person who should be passing judgement on indie hipster bullshit."
"Traitor," Touya muttered as Fai wheezed and pounded at his chest again. Yukito tried not to feel overly-concerned, but it was hard not to. "Fuck, Fai, go to a doctor, would you?"
Fai nodded, but he was still chuckling. "I had a really busy weekend at the bar, sorry, I'm just really worn out. I just need some sleep and some o.j. I'll go to the doctor if I don't feel better in a day or two, okay?"
Touya gave him the Big Brother Look, but Fai wasn't easily intimidated, so he had to give up and just say, "Okay." Yukito was never sure whether to feel entertained or worried when the two of them got like this. Everybody else just caved in to Touya's genuine care and concern—gruff as it tended to be—but Fai had this thing about personal space. Kurogane was always into people's business too, so Yukito had no idea how that worked. Maybe Fai was less defensive with Kurogane.
"You have been busy," Yukito observed. "Kurogane keeps complaining that he hardly ever sees you."
Fai grimaced and looked down into the hot chocolate he was drinking. "Rub salt in that wound, why don't you."
"What wound? Have you guys had a fight?" Yukito asked, concerned.
Fai crossed his arms. "Kurogane's weird codependency with you two aside, none of your business."
"They totally had a fight, but it was about Thanksgiving," Touya drawled, sipping at an Americano. "And we're not codependent. We're friends. Friends talk when they have problems, hard as that might be to believe."
"He told you about our fight?" Fai asked, eyes snapping with anger.
"No, I could just tell you had one," Touya said calmly. "Also, none of us believed you really had to work the whole day, that was a shitty lie."
Fai hunched over, and Yukito suddenly felt bad that they were ganging up on him. They'd thought he was doing better, lately. He'd seemed to be more stable as soon as they got back from the tour, and Kamui and Subaru had said he was barely drinking at all anymore. Whatever was going on with him lately was something else. Maybe they ought to give him the space he seemed to want.
"Okay, yeah, there's more than that . . . it's just. Okay, I'm going to sound like a little kid, but I miss my mom. The holidays are hitting me pretty hard this year. I don't know what's different. I think the first year was easier because I hadn't even totally accepted that she was gone yet. And then the past couple of years, I've been pouring so much time and energy into building the band that I . . . yeah. This year is just bad for me. I guess I just need some space."
Yukito scooted around the table, abandoning his cappuccino and ignoring the winces from the other customers as he scraped the chair over the floor. He put his arm firmly around Fai's waist and shielded him while he dropped his head and breathed slow and deep. He could understand not wanting to cry in the middle of a crowded coffee shop in December.
"Sorry," Fai muttered.
"Don't be sorry. I'm glad you said something. You don't need to keep things like that to yourself."
Yukito looked over and saw Touya visibly relaxing. Which shouldn't be funny and cute, but it kind of was and god did he ever love this man. Touya could barely sleep if someone he cared about was struggling, and he already felt better just knowing what the problem was. It was cute and Yukito loved him for it.
"Is that why you're keeping yourself so busy?"
Fai nodded.
"Is it really overstepping my bounds to ask why you couldn't talk to Kurogane?" Yukito asked gently. It probably was.
"It seemed. Inconsiderate," Fai admitted, lifting his face again and sipping at his drink with composure, or at least a very good attempt at composure. "The holidays can't be easy on him, either."
"They weren't fun for any of us, for a while," Touya said sharply. "But I see what you mean."
Fai winced. "Sorry. That was inconsiderate, too."
Yukito just rubbed his back a little. "It's okay. It might not ever feel the same, but it gets better, with time. It's, um. It can be easier, if you have other loved ones to support you."
Fai gave him a slightly sarcastic but still fond look. "I get it," he said, and then jerked his head down and covered his mouth with a fist to cough. With his hand on Fai's back, Yukito could feel how hard the coughs were shaking him.
"Okay, time to take you home and put you to bed," he said briskly. "Finish your cocoa."
"Yes, dear," Fai chuckled. Then he lifted his eyebrows quizzically over the rim of his drink. "Hang on," he said, wiping at a stray drop in the corner of his mouth, "you guys brought me here because you wanted to ask me something. That wasn't the something, was it?"
"Well, no, but you're sick and exhausted."
"I'm fine," he insisted, straightening up. "Or fine enough to talk a while longer, anyway. What's up?"
Yukito shared an eye conversation with his boyfriend to decide whether or not they should continue. Fai was clearly not to be trusted with his own health and emotional wellbeing, so Yukito was counting on Touya to make the call.
"There's a benefit concert coming up," Touya said at last. "It's on the nineteenth. Proceeds are going to buy toys and Christmas dinner for homeless kids, the whole goodwill and peace on earth thing. A couple of Piffle artists are participating. Apparently Okiura wasn't sure if we would want to play, but Hana and Chikahito mentioned it. Even this indie hipster bullshit artist Sorata is playing a couple of songs. So Fujimoto snagged me today and asked me if we were interested in playing a short set."
Fai sighed, and he sounded so weary that Yukito felt guilty and immediately gave Touya the signal to cancel the whole thing and volunteer to tell the studio that they weren't interested. There was no way Fai was going to be able to sing if this chest thing got any worse, anyway.
But Fai was already speaking. "How short is short?"
Touya shrugged. "Just three or four songs. There's a lot of bands, they don't really need us."
"But if they put us on the roster, they'll sell more tickets and raise more money," Fai said, mostly to himself. "We don't have to play Christmas songs, do we?"
"Naw, not really, we can play our own stuff. Although a cover of one Christmas song might make a good closer."
Suddenly, Fai stopped looking weary and started looking excited. "Do you know how much fun it would be to do the Carol of the Bells with our band? Do you even know?"
"I don't. Lots of fun?" Touya guessed.
"I am going to play my cello," Fai said, his eyes gleaming. "And Tomoyo is going to join us for that song even though we haven't decided if she's in the band yet or not, because the two of us could absolutely rock that song, and oh my god, Sakura could rock that song, and I desperately need Kamui to sing . . ."
"Just let me know if I should even bother showing up," Touya said, rolling his eyes. Fai returned a wounded expression, and Touya snorted. "I hope that shit doesn't work on Kurogane, or he's even sappier than I thought. So we should call the others, then? I want to make sure everybody's in before I say anything to Fujimoto."
"Yes, yes, call the others," Fai said, flapping his hands around. "We need to practice. I need to ask for the night off at work. I need to talk Tomoyo into it. Yes, this is going to be so good." He stood up and grabbed his coat off the back of his chair, knocking his empty cup over. He grabbed Yukito into a quick hug. "I'm going home to start working on an arrangement!"
Touya and Yukito got their coats in a more stately manner and threw away their trash as they watched Fai dodge cars in the parking lot on his way to his own.
"That went better than I expected," Yukito said brightly.
Touya was frowning. "I worry about that boy."
Yukito punched his arm. "Quit being such a pessimist."