Through twists and turns, ever onward time would flow. Nothing was able to remain the same. It would be impossible to remain stationary in this world. Time was the mightiest glacier that would bend them all to its will. Knowing this, ever aware of the passage of time, people sought meaning in the meaningless. Humans desired order, they desired a reason, they desired understanding. When none was available, they fabricated it themselves, deluding themselves into believing they were so much more than that.
Wisdom was relative, knowledge was ever changing through the discovery of further truths.
The universe was always reshaping itself, from moment to moment.
Life was never the same as it was but a breath ago.
Naoto Hachiouji sat on his bed, one meaningless, insignificant speck in the universe. Unimportant to humanity as a whole, yet the centerpiece for a handful of lives. Unappealing and strange to some, quite the catch and all they desired to others. Such was human nature. Two people were never the same, such was the curse of individuality.
Naoto often thought about these things when he sat by himself in the dark, contemplating the meaning of life, the reason as to why he found himself in a life as strange and turbulent as his. Gazing upon himself in the reflection of his mirror, he found himself lacking in too many categories to count, yet there were three incredibly attractive women out to get him.
It felt like a bad joke.
But that was only if viewed through his own distorted lens. Humanity had limitless desires and opinions, and within some of those, the things he wished to purge about himself, were strangely attractive to others.
Naoto ran his hand over his rather pointy chin, feeling the beginning of a stubble growing on it. If given time, it would naturally grow out. But how far? When would it top out? What limits did it have and was there any hope for it to surpass those?
The young artist couldn't help but smirk. It was silly to consider a beards hurdle in life. His hair was no more the master of its own fate than he was.
Naoto wondered how many of the fans their band had garnered were under some illusion that, simply because he was the lead singer of their group, Naoto was some crazed, drugged up sex god, who they would give anything for to meet. There was a hint of schadenfreude, when he envisioned their confused and disappointed states upon realizing who he truly was.
All in all, Naoto was boring.
Simple.
Where Tony preferred the loud and more bombastic life style and Tadano enjoyed spending time with Komi and his friends, Naoto was one for silence, isolation. In his youth, he always gravitated to painting or drawing things in the comfort of his lonely existence. Now, for multiple reasons, he chose to use music as his vessel of creativity, but that had never changed his preferences.
At times, Naoto wondered what life would be like if he tried to strike out as a solo artist, just to return to his beloved isolation. Then he would be struck by the guilt he'd experience from abandoning those that lifted him up and allowed him to rediscover himself in such a way.
No, as much as he valued his time to himself, he loved his friends. He would never leave them behind, never move on without them. They were more than band members. They were a family. They shared a bond of joys and heartaches, a deep love and understanding for each other.
Or at least he hoped so.
Desperately.
As long as there were some people in this world, able to love him without the pressures of lunging at each other's throat at any given moment, just exist alongside him, he was content.
Nightmares had shown him what his world might look like, were it not so. There were many people lonely and wishing for companionship, above all.
Not he.
Each love professed to him frightened him. It forced him to consider his a cursed existence. All those that desired him came from the same circle of madness, never without the stains left behind those days he dreaded. Some were cleaner than others, allowed him to forget. But in the end, they were all at each other's throats again, unwilling to conceit.
Naoto sighed as he removed the razor from his chin.
Again, the stubble was gone.
Again, he had been the master of another's destiny.
It's just hair.
Naoto chuckled and put the razor down onto the sink. Sometimes, his mind was utterly goofy and he couldn't take himself seriously. That was alright. Naoto was of the mindset that if one took themselves too seriously at all times, it would lead to nothing but unhappiness and tension in their lives.
Satisfied with how smooth his face looked for now, he quickly splashed it with luke warm water and left the bathroom. In the living room, Tadano and Komi were sitting on the couch, watching some mindless comedy show they enjoyed. Tadano turned his head and shot his friend a joyful grin, which was happily reciprocated.
"Looking good," Tadano complimented. "This how you're going to look during the shows?"
"That's the plan," Naoto confirmed as he sat down beside him.
Komi and Tadano inched over to give him some more, with Komi silently leaning forward to wave at Naoto, before receding into her seat in the couch.
"Tony still out?" Naoto asked, his eyes fixed on the TV.
Tadano nodded slowly. "Yup. Hunting down Nakai as we're speaking. Probably hanging out in the Atelier."
"Hmm."
The three remained there like that for a while, nothing but the sound of the television filling the apartment.
It had been a few weeks, since Naoto had buried his mother and lived through another round of strange incidents with the three women holding a grasp on his life.
With a heavy heart, Naoto had decided to sell his mother's house, taking the money in order to plan for the future. Even if he had the mind to move into a house, he wouldn't want to live there, in that house, with that room and that couch. Neither would he want to live in a large house by himself anyways, as he thought in his current state, his friends provided him a genuine lifeline, if he were to over go down the slippery mental slope.
His therapist had also recommended against it, urging him to not put too much distance between himself and the people that valued him the most. And while he also inferred that any further contact with women from his past should be avoided at all cost, he was not the one to define the path Naoto was walking on. The man did feel bad for the professional, just trying to save his ill managed life, but it seemed he was dead set on riding this train all the way to hell.
And thus, he excused himself from the viewing party in the living room and retreated to his own nest. The moment he shut the door and was steeped in darkness, Naoto retrieved his cell phone from his pocket and turned on the screen.
Greeting him, behind the digital numbers acting as the clock, was a picture of Gamo, sitting in her car, smirking toward the camera. She was tugging on the collar of her shirt, just enough to leave an enticing image, without giving away too much. It was something to behold, something odd and unnatural to him. Never before did he have the opportunity to behold a real woman in a situation such as this, without there being some traumatizing event surrounding it.
Naoto wasn't even sure if this one qualified as healthy either. It was hard to tell these days with his life.
But that was the reason he deigned to use this as his phone's background, despite the clear strangeness of opening his phone in public to a display such as this. It wasn't any inappropriate or hormone fueled thoughts, but rather a comfort, taken in the fact that he could look at Gamo like this and feel as if this was normal.
As if it was right.
As if it was good.
Still, more for her sake than his own, he had taken every precaution to ensure that no one would actually see his screen when he opened the phone. There was no need for anyone else to peek at her, and it would most certainly be a breach of privacy and trust, even if there was nothing actually shown. It was the context and action that mattered.
Gamo felt comfortable to act this way with him.
That filled him with joy that was hard to describe.
The fact that despite everything, his strange and unfathomable actions and behaviors, she was still comfortable to be vulnerable with him.
Naoto remembered the day she packed her bag and left, upon his request. For a moment there, it felt like he had made the biggest blunder of his life and lost any and all favors he had ever managed to claim with Gamo.
So, when she sent him those images the following night, with a message reading "Already miss you ❤️", Naoto's heart soared.
After letting his mind break free of those thoughts, Naoto opened his LINE chat and, wanting to be fair and impartial, added both Gamo and Nagatoro to a chat.
He took a deep breath, wondering if this would be the final time, he would be talking to either of them, if this would be when a decision was made, as he knew it had to be.
Hey you two. I wanted to ask if you'd be willing to hang out soon? I'm going to be checking out some venues for our next concerts, and was hoping I could bring you both along.
Naoto palmed his face, never feeling more awkward than when he had time to reconsider and overthink the things he had written. He tossed his phone onto the bed and plopped onto his desk chair, spinning in circled, doing anything just to forget the hot, embarrassed feeling rising within him.
Gamo would be furious.
Nagatoro would probably be overjoyed.
It was a nightmare.
This next time, he'd have to break the news. But how? Who? What could he do?
It's obvious.
No. It wasn't.
Naoto pushed off his desk with his feet, rolling on his chair across the room until his arm hit the wall. He chuckled awkwardly as he rubbed the sore spot. Having spent way more time than necessary to ensure his arm had survived the high-speed collision, Naoto eventually moved his hands behind his back and tried to relax with his eyes closed.
He was totally freaking out.
Being the calmest and most collected mind in the world, he slowly rose from his chair and opened his wardrobe to check out the clothes he could wear to the venue inspection. Not at all to look good exclusively for the girls.
Nope.
Naoto hated it all. Every shirt, every jacket, all the hoodies, even the shoes.
Everything was awful forever.
The young man quickly threw some of his least hated items onto the bed and seriously analyzed them with his great understanding of modern fashion. Undoubtedly, his mind was quite far ahead of the curve when it came time to dress the modern man. All one would have to do is take a long, good look at these shabby jeans, and his black, one size too large shirt.
Naoto humored the thought of asking Sakura for help, but that would require grabbing his phone, which was currently not an option. That thing was dead to him for at least another half an hour, if not more.
Naoto stomped up and down the room, chill as an ice cube.
Smooth as butter.
Definitely the master of his own mind.
100 % under control.
A knock on the door.
Naoto flinched and quickly ran up to the wooden barrier, slightly pulling it ajar, just enough to peek through it.
"Uuuuuh," Tadano mouthed as he and Komi were standing outside, worry showing on their face. "You good in there man?"
Naoto forced himself to smile and gave a big thumbs up. "Excellent," he said in a drawn out, exaggerated way.
"Just asking," Tadano continued, quickly glancing back at Komi who nodded encouragingly. "You've been in there, huffing and puffing up a storm."
"No, I haven't," Naoto denied sternly.
"W-We've heard you," Tadano assured.
Naoto shook his head, his expression one of disbelief and overwhelming shock. "I would never. Absolutely not."
"Naoto.." Komi's soft voice caused Naoto to shirk into himself just a little.
"No, not you," he said, pointing his finger out of the door, toward her nose. "You can't talk. That's cruel."
Komi cocked her head puzzled and in her confusion broke out into sweat at the sudden accusatory tone.
"Wha-" Tadano looked between the two of them, somewhat baffled. "What do you mean cruel!?"
"Her voice is like a weapon," Naoto said in a quiet conspirator tone. "She only speaks up when there is something she wants. It's there to lower your guard. She knows it too. You sly fox you."
"You know, you sound like a guy I knew in high school."
The three of them turned their attention toward the front door, to find Hisao walk through into the apartmnent. "At least you look a little more put together."
"Naoto doesn't ever look put together," Tony chuckled, coming in behind Hisao.
This made the bat come out of its cave and Naoto jumped out of his room, almost causing Tadano to lose his footing and stumble to the floor.
"Please," Naoto scoffed. "You wish you'd look half as decent at me on your best days."
"Mhm," Tony rebutted with a smirk. "All fluffy up top, no meat on your bones, yikes."
Naoto let out a mocking, exaggerated laugh. "I am sorry we can't all have the 'american', overweight style."
"Will you two knock it off?" Tadano asked with a giggle as he lightly punched Naoto in the arm.
Both of the parties pinned Tadano down with their glares, shouting in unison: "He started it!"
Hisao shook his head, a grin plastered on his face, as he sat down on a stool next to the kitchen counter.
"Why in the world do I put up with you guys?" he asked in jest, leaning his chin on his palm.
"You're gonna need someone around if your heart gives out," Tony said.
Hisao furrowed his brows, the grin still ever present. "Rin's way more reliable than you goobers."
Tony was all ready to throw more shade at that statement, but then held his tongue. As much as he enjoyed getting into immature, insincere arguments with his friends, pulling their loved ones into the mix felt like a dirty thing. Especially when they definitely were struggling with something, the way Rin must have been.
"Whatever," Tony simply sighed after a long pause.
Hisao's grin became a warmer, more genuine smile, as he could easily read Tony's thought process and appreciated his friend's consideration. Not enough people gave Tony credit. He wasn't the most tactful or thoughtful of people, but he did really care. It was just rather hard for him to show most days.
Naoto waved them off, trying to remain in the energetic and impish spirit he had found himself in. It felt like some strange, manic energy had taken a hold of him and he wanted to thoroughly enjoy it.
"Tadano!" Naoto shouted, causing the inattentive man to flinch. "Dance with me!"
"What!?"
Before he could get an answer out of Naoto, the artist grabbed Tadano's hand and dragged him toward the only spot in the living room still with enough room to move in any real capacity.
"N-Naoto, what in the wor-"
The words failed Tadano, as his friend suddenly spun him in a circle, then tried to dip down with him, only to find resistance.
"I am not that flexible dude!" Tadano yelped, much to Naoto chagrin.
"Fiiine," the other guy sighed, as he let go off Tadano, almost causing him to fall on the floor for a second time.
At the last moment, he grabbed his arm and pulled him back up.
"What's gotten into you?" Tadano asked, after being helped back up onto his own two feet.
Naoto shrugged, sincerely unaware himself. "I got like a spring in my step right now, I don't know."
Komi had joined the two, staring at them both with wide eyes, worried about Tadano and flabbergasted by Naoto.
"Sorry," Naoto eventually apologized, realizing that maybe his anxiety about getting a response had caused him to go a slight bit mental.
"I-It's okay," Tadano ensured, with the least convincing tone ever. "But seriously man, you seem so out of it right now. And- I don't bend like a pretzel."
Naoto found himself chuckling at that remark, somewhat relieved that his friend was able to immediately turn the situation into a humorous one.
"I thought we could at least try," Naoto joked, looking bashfully at the two of them.
"Nope," Tadano responded with a firm shake of his head. "But you could always try talking to us."
"Now, why would I go and do that?" the artist asked. "That seems like it'd take the whole fun out of guessing."
"Naoto, I swear-"
"No need to swear," Naoto joked, his voice sounding a little loopy.
Tadano facepalmed and looked at Komi for help, but the poor woman just shook her head, just as confused as her other half. Sometimes, it was quite odd to live with someone like Naoto. He wasn't sure if this was his friend fully losing his mind, if he was just trying to deflect some serious underlying issues, by acting like a buffoon, or if this was just all a bad dream, he'd wake from any moment now.
This wasn't the first time Naoto had suddenly and inexplicably acted so strange, energetic and out of character. The moments were rather rare, but it was at those odd times, when he behaved in such a unpredictable manner, that Tadano wondered if this could be a glimpse at what Naoto would have been like, if none of the past pain had ever touched his heart.
Perhaps, at this very moment, he'd be a light hearted, kind, yet rather odd, young man, just goofing around, laughing at the world and wanting it to laugh with him.
But Tadano knew it was not to last. Soon enough, the magic would fade, and Naoto would return to his gloomy, snarky self. He always did.
The vision vanished, the curtain would close and the play end.
Maybe one day, Naoto would be free of it all, able to return to this state he was in now and remain there, permanently.
Half an hour later, Naoto returned to his bed, having decided to bring a can of soda with him, something he usually wasn't a huge fan of. All the sugar got to his head, made him feel crazier than usual. But today, at the height of this wave of strange weightlessness he was experiencing, he would allow himself this. As he popped it open, his eyes fell onto the blinking light in the center of his mattress.
All at once, the energy was zapped from his body, leaving him a shivering, anxious mess.
Damn it.
Naoto flung himself onto the bed, placed the opened can onto the night stand and picked up his phone. With shaky hands, he opened the device to read the messages.
Sure, would love to hang out. Just give me a time, day and location. I'll be there! - Gamo
I am sorry, but I'd rather not at this time. - Nagatoro
Naoto squinted his eyes and furrowed his brow. These messages had to be in the wrong order.
What in the world?
Then he noticed another chat bubble, with a new notification. He opened it to a chat of Gamo, trying to talk to him privately.
That was unexpected. Hayase declining the invitation? Seems fishy to me.
Naoto was scratching his chin in contemplation, before responding quickly.
Yeah... But I mean, that's- I mean, that's good for you? I-
Naoto began lightly hitting his forehead with his phone. What in the world was he even typing?
To his horror, one of those hits to his noggin managed to hit the send button, delivering his incomplete message to a Maki, seemingly waiting for a response.
Don't treat this like a game with a score Naoto.
Naoto cringed at that. That's exactly why he didn't want to send that.
I know, I am sorry, I didn't mean to even send that out. I was just lost for words. I am sorry.
Sure, it's fine. Anyway. The hell do we do?
Naoto raised a brow.
Do we need to do anything?
Of course we do. This isn't like her. At all. Last time she wanted to rip my head off for spending a few hours alone with you. Now she is declining and giving me the floor for a day or more? I know her. That's not a good sign.
Naoto swallowed hard at the implications that line of thinking brought with it.
If there was one thing Naoto was intimately familiar with, it was the almost carnal desire to bathe in isolation at the height of one's self-hatred. While Hayase Nagatoro did not strike him as someone to suffer from such a thing, as her spirits seemed rather quick to lift, he also knew that one would do well to never be ignorant to any signs given, no matter how small.
Should we go see her at the University?
Naoto quickly sent his message, sensing that Gamo was contemplating the exact same thing on her side of the conversation. Sure enough, the response followed swiftly.
Yeah, let's do that.
Alright, I'll meet you there, just let me know when.
Naoto temporarily placed his phone down to glance at the digital clock on his night stand. It was far too late for them to take off now.
A thought struck him, one that his therapist would potentially praise him for: Why? Why did he care about Nagatoro's mental well being?
How was it his responsibility to ensure that the woman who caused him such pain, remained comfortable and sane within her own skin? It seemed sick and perverted.
There's your answer.
Be silent.
Naoto retrieved his phone once again to read the text Gamo had left him.
The weekend then. See ya on Saturday.
Naoto replied with a confirmation, before sighing to himself, placing the warm device against his forehead. It was a strange life indeed.
Time was ever flowing, never ceasing its endless assault on all life trapped within its grasp.
Yet, Naoto had to question, did it truly have the capability to change the mind of those it governed over? Could one find themself experiencing meaningful differences within their logic from one day to the next just by living? Surely, it would require extraordinary circumstances to truly shape the mind of a woman that would find it within her to rob Naoto of his autonomy.
The man found himself hungrily chewing on his lip, a sense of dread building within his core. What if they were both completely overreacting and Nagatoro was simply not willing or able to take time off her schedule to accompany them?
Why did Gamo care?
Naoto rolled to his side, frustrated to realize his thoughts would most likely plague him well into the night, robbing him off the opportunity to gain some sound sleep.
Another pang of guilt hit his heart as he considered the rather sudden, third addition to this madness. Naoto sat up straight up and stared at the small device in his grasp. He didn't want to just text her, as he was quite aware of her difficulties with social cues, which was only exacerbated through text, a format that lacked the ability to clarify themselves via nonverbal communication methods.
With a groan Naoto pulled up Hana's contact information and hit the call button. The phone began ringing, each second passing feeling like an eternity to the young man. Pressure began building in his heart as the words he wished to share with her started forming in his mind. His throat dried out and a cold chill passed through his entire system.
"Hello?"
The voiced caught him off guard. It sounded exhausted, yet as gentle and soothing as it could. She most likely knew it was him, after all, and was thus attempting her all to sound comforting from the start.
Naoto hated himself for the fact that everyone he knew felt compelled to shield him in such manner.
"Hey Hanna," Naoto simply opened flatly, not sure how else to begin the conversation.
"Good evening," her quiet voice returned, far less emotionless than he would have ever imagined. There was... a yearning?
His throat felt as if it was tightening, hoping to rob him of air.
"Hana, we need to talk," Naoto continued, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Gamo and I will go to meet Nagatoro this weekend. It seems there is something wrong with her. She's not acting like herself."
There was a moment of silence, during which Naoto wondered what Hana had been up to at this hour, before he interrupted.
Hana quickly cut through the quiet: "I shall be there."
"No," Naoto quickly replied, his voice tense with emotion. "N-No. I'd rather you weren't."
The gasp at the other end of the line threatened to break his heart.
"I- I tell you this because I feel responsible," Naoto admitted, his voice quiet and shaking. "I never knew how you felt and I feel awful about it. I don't want this for you, or anyone for that matter. This is stupid, all of it. I just want you to forget about these feelings."
"That's not how it works Senpai," the response came almost immediately and with a hint of frustration. "I am not able to simply turn all I feel off."
Naoto sighed wearily, fully aware of that fact, but also desperately wishing it was as easy as all that.
"Is this your way," Hana's voice came through the phone. "Of telling me that I have no chance of being with you?"
There was an undeniable, painful intake of air from her end. Naoto felt his heart ache and, in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to tell her everything she needed to hear to produce a smile on that face. Yet he knew, that would be insincere and cruel. The truth would burn her, but the flames would eventually subside.
"I- Yes," Naoto eventually managed to say, before his determination would crumble on him.
This was his only way of saving her from all this pain and suffering before it could get too far for her. She deserved so much better, than to remain by the side of a man who was torn in heart and mind. With time, he prayed, she would be able to forgive the unkind means he had used to push her away, for her own sake. If their friendship remained salvageable, he hoped to mend it, if a future was even something he could look forward to.
Soon enough, there were quiet, yet unmistakable sobs coming from the other end of the call, causing tears to shoot into Naoto's own eyes. The man dared not speak, while also feeling as if he owed it to her to remain on the line, to listen to the pain he had caused.
Hana had been his friend for so long, before any of this all had shaped his heart. There was a longing for a different outcome, where the girl had managed to be blunt and upfront about her feelings prior before his graduation, if they had even already bloomed at that time. What would life had been like, if he had entered high school, with Hana's confession on his mind?
Now, all he could do was despise himself for having her fall in love with such a cowardly craven, who would break her heart.
"I am sorry Hana," Naoto said through clenched teeth, doing all he could to hold back his own, unshed tears. He had no right to weep.
"I-I understand," Hana replied, trying and failing to sound composed. "A-All I w-wish is for you to take car-re of yourself."
With a heavy heart, Naoto assumed that this was her way of saying goodbye, at least for the time being. It was understandable, necessary even.
"T-Thank you for being my muse," Hana continued, only further shattering Naoto's aching heart. "I will always love you, Naoto."
With that, the call was terminated on her end, leaving Naoto in absolutely deafening silence.
Alone with his thoughts and self-loathing, Naoto gave into the overflowing emotion and began loudly weeping into his pillow.
Little did Naoto know at that time, just as he was howling into his pillow, Hayase Nagatoro was doing the same with her own. Bitter, hot tears were staining her cheeks. Her phone, discarded callously, was lying on the floor, beside her bed.
Why would you do that?
Hayase pressed her face even deeper into the soft pillow, hoping to smother herself. The woman knew what declining that invitation meant for her, what it meant for Maki. She couldn't imagine a world in which this would not end with her and Naoto closer together than ever before, which would most likely elevate them to finally being a couple.
Why would you give up like this?
Hayase sunk her teeth into the pillow and began hitting the back off her head with closed fists. The voice needed to stop. Always present, always pushing her ever onward, toward an edge that she dreaded.
It had been some time since she had last heard this awful sound in her mind. The last time she had to fight for control was the day that she had ripped Naoto from the jaws of death. Despite its protest and its fury, she had managed to subdue it and give up on her undying passion for the man. Despite this, Naoto had to fuel the fire within her once again, slowly allowing the voice to rise back to the surface. When Hayase saw how close Maki and Naoto had been during their time at his house, the voice finally clawed its way back into control.
Now, Hayase felt without a way out, trapped within her own mind once again.
This very same voice, pushing her toward shattering any hope she would have had at a happy life with Naoto, was unwilling to let him free from her grasp now. Knowing this, aware of the capacity for pain the voice had, Hayase chose isolation. If she was able to remain at a distance, never again getting close enough to cause harm, maybe that was her way of truly repenting.
She will take him!
Hayase let out a desperate sob, as the voice taunted her with visions of Maki embracing Naoto, kissing his adorable lips, freeing him of his shirt and-
Hayase hissed as she dug her sharp fingernails into the flesh of her arm, drawing blood. It had to stop.
Please, god, someone make it stop.