The moment Naoto's machinations had been set in motion; the flow of time appeared to gain speed.
Their new priorities as a band caused their lives to blur into a sea of indefinable stars. Rushing through each and every day, attempting to balance their newfound goals with the paths they had comfortably tread on before.
There was suddenly no longer time for the individual, causing Naoto to feel remarkably detached from Maki. The woman was a blip at the edge of his consciousness, ever present, but never fully in focus. It burned, to consider her so inconsequential to the moment he was living in.
In truth, she was no such thing, as his entire plan revolved around her, yet this ever pressuring life he was now finding himself in, left him very little time to ponder this.
It was two weeks later, when Naoto sent out the first ticket, assigned to Yoshi. Their gigs had been planned for some time now, albeit it that none of them had high hopes for them, until Hisao decided to remain with them. Now, with this knowledge that nothing could hinder their progress, a fire had been fueled in their hearts.
Texts, messages and the occasional pictures sent his way, was all the contact Naoto had been able to maintain with Maki since that night. It hurt him, to know that she was so close to his heart, yet so far away. Even moreover, she was hurting, feeling as if she was an afterthought.
This could not continue. Naoto wouldn't let it.
The artist was seated at a mirror in the green room, admiring the bold, yellow colored contacts, covering up his otherwise unremarkable, brown ones. At Tony's behest, he had also considered putting in some fake vampire teeth, but as time passed, Naoto feared they would hinder his ability to sing properly. Then again, were people here, viewing them live, for the spectacle, or to hear him annunciate each syllables as intended?
More time was required, to ponder the teeth.
The door squeaked open, catching Naoto's attention. Tadano and Hisao marched in, each carrying an instrument in their hands. Hisao was holding onto his bass, while Tadano dropped Tony's guitar onto the couch leaning against the wall.
"I'll go setup my stuff," he announced, before rushing back out of the room.
Hisao sighed as he dropped into the chair besides Naoto.
"How's your heart doing?" Naoto asked, glancing at him in the mirror.
"It's thumping."
"Yeah, but like, reasonably?"
Naoto considered himself a hypocrite, each time he was overwhelmed with concern for Hisao's condition.
While his own disability was psychological in nature, opposite to Hisao's physical, they both could lead to a swift and tragic demise for each of them. Despite this, Naoto endeavored to sidestep any potential opportunities for others to try and discuss his issues with him. And yet, he refused to grant Hisao the same courtesy.
It was honestly a massive shock to him, when Hisao first opened up to them about his heart arrhythmia. It seemingly also had been initially surprising to Hisao himself, who, as he told it, learned of the condition at a most inopportune moment, but he would not elaborate upon that.
While unfamiliar with the exact science behind this difficult condition Hisao found himself living with, Naoto knew that all it would take was one horrible collision, a stressful or physically straining situation, or- hell, just his heart deciding it had enough- for Hisao to die from a heart attack.
This constant threat of his mortality hanging above his head, like a guillotine ready to descent upon him at any moment, must have taken a toll on him, surely. Despite this, here Hisao was, ready to tour alongside them, taking massive risks that, truthfully, they hadn't earned.
It frightened Naoto.
He was a man who was willing to throw himself into the fire for others, if need be, considering himself cinders for others to burn brighter, at best. Yet, the thought of another doing the same, for what could be viewed as a selfish desire of their own, did not sit well with him.
Again, Naoto saw himself for the hypocrite he was.
Just another point for the list of reasons why he was awful.
Hisao chuckled, dismissing Naoto's concern. "Yeah, I'll live. Don't worry."
Naoto held eye contact for just a little longer, before directing his gaze toward the bass. "Nervous?"
"Nah. I'll do great. As long as you all don't drag me down."
Hisao grinned at his friend, alleviating some of Naoto's own anxiety. As long as they could all just have fun and enjoy spending time with each other, the fact they were about to be playing in front of a larger crown than usual, should not wreck his nerves.
"If I start screeching horribly on stage," Naoto started, smirking back at Hisao. "Just crack me over the head with your bass."
"Oh, you bet."
An odd, uneven knock on the door grabbed their attention. Naoto jumped up from his seat, while Hisao sunk lower into his, trying to relax just a little.
Opening the door to a vision of red, it took Naoto a long, silent moment to realize he was face to face with Rin. The woman was wearing a rather decent looking, brown suit, with some comfortable slacks. Alarmingly, her forehead was slightly reddened, something that didn't seem to affect the smug grin on her face.
"G'day," she snorted, somehow amused to find Naoto in the green room.
"Hisaoooo," Naoto turned toward him and pointed at Rin. "Your girlfriend is here."
With a huff, Hisao struggled and failed to rise out of his chair, eventually forcing himself to just slide onto the floor, from where he pushed himself up.
"Rin," he spoke to her, a hint of concern tinging his voice. "Did you knock with your head, again?"
"Yeah," she replied so nonchalantly that it was almost impressive. "I don't have hands."
"Legs! Use your legs!"
Rin's scrunched up her face, looking at him as if he had gone absolutely mad. "I'd lose balance if I lifted one of them."
"Use your knees!"
Hisao's eye was twitching slightly, while Naoto was positively giddy about the silly nature of their interaction.
Rin was one of the oddest souls that Naoto ever had the pleasure of encountering. While, initially, interacting with her felt like a draining and tiresome prospect, growing desensitized to her quirky nature opened up a realm of intriguing insights and discussion.
When she didn't feel like being a brat.
The artist wondered, when he and Maki would be able to have interactions as goofy and uninhibited by emotional trauma, as this.
Quickly pushing the thought out of his mind, Naoto stepped aside, allowing Rin to enter the room. After a moment of simply looking between Naoto and Hisao, she turned herself fully toward her boyfriend and gently leaned her upper body into him, allowing Hisao to wrap his arms around her.
"Don't make a fool out of yourself," she whispered into his chest, eliciting a chuckle from Hisao.
"Thanks Rin. I'll try not to embarrass you."
"I'll be fine, but I am worried you might lose all credibility with your friends."
Naoto had to press his lips together to hold back a laugh. Rin was something special.
"Don't worry," he assured her. "We'll take pity on him if he messes up."
"Oh, that's good!" Rin said cheerfully, turning her head toward Naoto with a smile on her face. "It'll be fine Hisao. Even if you fail."
The young bassist shut his eyes, wincing at the pain this interaction was causing him. "You're both terrible."
Naoto began laughing in earnest now, while Rin simply gazed at Hisao in confusion.
"Don't worry," Naoto said, biting his lip to hold back the unbridled joy. "We believe in you. We're just letting you know that failure is an option."
"It's absolutely not," Tony said, suddenly stepping through the still open door. "Who told you that?"
"Tadano," Naoto and Hisao both lied at the same time. Not as if it wasn't something he would definitely tell them.
"Well," Tony spoke, shaking his head. "He is wrong. We will blow people away today. This is the start of our rise to the stars guys."
Naoto raised an eyebrow at that. "You are quite confident. "
"Damn right I am!"
"Well, that makes one of us," Hisao said, while gently patting Rin's head.
"There will be no doubting!" Tony huffed. "We go up on stage and we wow them."
Naoto shrugged with a smile on his lips. "Aye sir."
The moment Naoto stepped on stage, the lights enveloping him in an almost unearthly glow, he felt himself become alive. The crowd ahead of him, jumping up and down, gently swaying back and forth like the waves on the ocean, calmed any worries he may have had on his way to this point.
Once the music kicked in, his voice felt freed. Empowered by those that were cheering for more, Naoto bared his soul to the onlookers. Desired by all that were witnessing him, yet failing to truly see him for who he was, Naoto became someone else. It was here, between the man he was and the man the people wanted, that nothing could hurt him.
The past was irrelevant. The pains he had to endure were washed aside. Music elevated him. It unshackled him.
Naoto sang and the instrument beneath his fingertips sang with him. The three men by his side melded with him, giving him strength, drinking from his own, fueling their performance and bringing them to new heights.
Four minds became one and it felt like they had been on this stage, performing all their lives, never hesitating any step along the way. The bond forged due to their understanding of being in this as one, for the long haul, caused all uncertainty to vanish.
Naoto felt himself become the painting; the stage set as his canvas. Even if the pencil, guided by his trembling digits, could not produce aught of value, the very same fingers, strumming on his guitar, delivered a message that touched the hearts of all who would hear it.
Now, all that was left for him was to formulate the correct message.
It was half an hour, after their performance had ended, that Naoto was sitting at a long table, signing a handful of autographs. Beside him, Tony seemed to positively beam in the attention he was receiving.
Tadano had taken the time to pull a handful of people aside, explaining to them the workings of his drum set. Naoto wasn't sure if they really cared to learn more about his craft, of if they were just taking the opportunity to bask in his presence. Either way, the surprisingly protective Komi was standing a little ways off, staring at the scene with a rather tense expression.
Naoto gave her a little, reassuring wave. She reciprocated in kind, with a small smile on her lips.
"H-Hey Naoto."
The lead singer whipped his head back around, suddenly finding himself face to face with a rather warm looking Yoshi. Her cheeks were flushed red and her forehead looked somewhat moistened, most likely due to the admittedly overheated venue.
Her blonde hair was surprisingly braided into two parts, resting on either side of her face. Naoto couldn't recall her ever rocking a style akin to this before, but it wasn't unpleasant to the eye.
"Hi Yoshi," he greeted her with a bright smile. "How did you like the set?"
"It was fantastic. That was the best you've ever sounded."
Naoto couldn't help but smirk at that. "Thank you."
"Uhm..."
Yoshi began fidgeting in a way that screamed loudly about her discomfort. Naoto was dreading the idea for a moment, that she was about to deliver some awful news to him. This dissipated, the moment a terrible blush spread across her entire face.
"Can I have an autograph?" she asked, sounding like a nervous wreck.
"Of course you can."
Naoto chuckled as he watched her grab one of the CD's they had on sale and hand it to him. With a genuine smile, Naoto began leaving his signature on top of the case, as well as a personalized message for her, recalling some things Maki had mentioned before.
Looking forward to reading your novel. Thanks for hyping up our band, when no one else would.
Yoshi took the CD from him and stared at it with a moved expression, as if it was the kindest gift anyone had ever presented her with.
"You'll be the first to be sent the finished draft," Yoshi giggled, watching him with joy filled eyes.
"I'll hold you to that. I am incredibly curious about what you might write. You never even told me you were interested in writing back in the day."
"Well, uh," Yoshi stammered awkwardly, while wringing her hands. "I was always a little intimidated by the idea of talking to you."
"Huh?"
Both of Naoto's brows shot into the air, his eyes slightly wider than usual. "Come again?"
"I mean, back then- Nagatoro was always swarming you. And every time she wasn't around, Gamo had something planned to mess with you. There was no time to ever get to know you better. And I was worried that they'd get on my case about it, if I tried."
Yoshi pursed her lips. "I always thought you were really nice, but I never got the chance to get to know you better."
Naoto hummed in agreement, a sensation of being robbed of something filling his being.
"Well, you can always text me," he told her. "I'll be pretty busy from here on out, I guess. But that doesn't mean I won't do my best to keep in contact with my friends."
"Am I even able to be called that?"
Naoto scoffed.
"Of course you can be," he assured. "I really appreciate you coming here today Yoshi."
A hesitant smile, as if to temper her own joy, encroached on her lips.
Too many good things had come of today. Naoto wasn't sure how the universe would balance his fortune out, with what cruel acts it would follow, but at least for this moment, he would not let it weigh on his mind.
As if lost in a torrent, drowning out the world surrounding them, the band was plunged into a wholly different life. Floating along the stream, their heads barely above water, they marched ever onward, their music affecting all those who would truly listen to it.
An entirely different existence laid before them.
Naoto was oblivious to the waves they were making. Small as a pebble, he saw himself. Yet the ripples left in the wake of his splashes told a different story altogether. Whispers began rising in volume, with each concert they played. Eyes and ears were upon them, intrigued by what the four had to offer.
Not too long after the events, during which he had connected with Yoshi, Naoto found himself on a different stage, farther north, illuminated by unknown lights, gazed upon by unfamiliar eyes.
Yet, the feeling was all the same. Letting himself be swept up by the sensation, Naoto embraced the darker facets of his mind, letting the agony and hardships of his life, fuel the music they produced.
Letting his mind mind melt into the fears, bubbling just beneath the surface, Naoto allowed the memories of a different time, a stranger's life, to fill him. A life where he had not been in control. A life where his will to continue on had been robbed by a devious monstrosity.
This was not him. This would never be him.
Never again.
His eyes snapped open, his mind eroding, yet blooming into excellence, all at once. The sea of cheering masses had turned into a sea of red. Droplets of thick, black paint, dripping loudly from the ceiling, were staining the liquid beneath, congealing into an abhorrent mess.
Eyes began forming and unforming along the surface of this filthy lake, devouring him with their hungry gazes.
Naoto did not flinch, he did not back down.
With confidence unmatched by anything within him before, Naoto stepped closer to the living liquid, now reaching toward him with gelatinous, red tendrils.
A grin began tugging on the corners of his lips, his heart dedicated to its attempt at sledge hammering down the cage it resided in. Unwavering, the man stood tall.
Proudly, Naoto continued his melodic onslaught on the hearts of all present, grinning wickedly, as the tendrils slithered their way up his legs. There was a tug, a desperately pull, yet Naoto would not falter.
Despite the avalanche of fear and panic within his soul, Naoto proceeded to stare at the tormenting mass, straight into its untold number of eyes.
It would feed on him no longer.
He would never again surrender.
With the fire of a lion, burning deep inside of his chest, Naoto strummed his guitar, the reverb of which threatened to stagger him off the stage, yet he remained tall.
The mass ahead of him howled in agony, its tendrils writhing, as if set ablaze. They released their grip on his legs, slithering back into the sea they spawned from.
Naoto felt engulfed by uncontainable energy, emboldened by the power he held over it. The music strayed off course, its practiced and expected strokes falling ever so slightly short of what they should have been.
And yet, his friends caught him.
The passion and intensity of his melody found a match in the harmony of his band members. Together as one, they took an uncharted course, sailing across the flood of red, toward the unknown.
There was no resistance from the crowd, no confusion or critique of what they were witnessing. Cheers grew louder, the movements of the wave increasing in severity.
Naoto smiled into the crowd, the sea of red having dissipated, as the lights dimmed, leaving them in darkness.
About an hour later, a knock on the green room door had Naoto arch an eyebrow.
Having exhausted the supply of energy within him on stage, the man was now resting somewhat comfortably on the couch provided for them.
"Who's there?" he asked groggily.
A tender, soft voice penetrated the wooden door before it. "It's me Naoto."
The man sighed, a tiny smile forming on his face.
"Come in Sakura."
Upon his invitation, the door opened slowly, revealing a somewhat disheveled Sakura standing in its frame. There were heavy shadows and dark rings beneath her eyes. Her blonde, curly hair, looked matted and unkempt. Even her clothes looked as if they were barely hanging onto her form.
The image took Naoto by surprise, as he had rarely, if ever, seen Sakura look anything other than immaculate.
Without a greeting, Sakura strode into the room, sitting down on a chair in front of Naoto. Her hands were resting, folded, in her lap, her head slightly lowered, as if to avoid eye contact. The woman's slender frame appeared so fragile in this position, and it made Naoto feel sick to the stomach.
"Are you okay?" he immediately asked her, not at all expecting this sight.
Sakura seemingly flinched, before trying to regain her composure. The woman shook her head.
"No," she responded truthfully. "I am not."
"What's wrong?"
Sakura lifted her head, gazing directly into Naoto's eyes. Her stare was full of questions, unknowable and vast. Naoto had to swallow tightly, pushing back everything he wanted to say, fearing that it would be wrong.
"What isn't?" Sakura began, her eyes falling into Naoto's lips, before she turned her head away. "You- You guys were excellent. That was great."
"Thank you."
Naoto leaned forward in the couch, wanting to convey that he was paying her his utmost attention.
"It's just-" Sakura spoke, before having to cut herself off, out of fear she would let loose a storm. "So hard to see, what you are capable of. What you've always been capable of. And how much of that you were robbed of. I mean, it's good. It's great. But-"
"Wow," is all Naoto managed to stammer out in response.
"Wow?"
The man sighed in response, realizing that without further context, his exclamation could be seen as inconsiderate.
"I didn't expect you to," Naoto squinted his eyes, trying to find the correct words. "be so passionate, about my progress."
Sakura scoffed at him, her eyes flaring up with a light that Naoto recognized. "You're my friend, dumbass. Of course I am passionate about it!"
Naoto's eyes widened for but a moment, floored by Sakura's sudden open nature, yet also thrilled to bring out the energy within her. Anything was better than for her to look beaten down by circumstances there were not her doing.
"Well then," he smirked at her. "How come I haven't had you reach out even once?"
"You're the one who dipped, without saying a word. The hell does one do about that?"
"Fair point."
Naoto pursed his lips, a sign of defeat. That round was lost rather quickly.
"I knew," Sakura whispered, her eyes glued to the floor, yet the wet shimmer within them noticeable to Naoto, even from his view. "I mean- I didn't know, but I just knew something was wrong. You- I know we fucked up. I know we were always a pain toward you. But, you wouldn't have stopped us, because- You cared, right? Naoto. I- No you'd just say yes, because that's who you are."
Sakura sighed with resignation, causing Naoto to raise an eyebrow. "Talk to me Sakura."
"I was scared," she replied, her hands desperately clutching onto the sides of her skirt. "We were so shit to you, so many times. I mean, yeah, most of it was Nagatoro, but still. I didn't really do much to help the situation. When you left, part of me was afraid to ask why. Because what if the answer was that I was at fault? I am though, aren't I? To a degree. I could have done more. I could have dissuaded them. But I didn't. I let it play out, each and every time. Nagatoro may have done it, but my inaction makes me just as responsible."
Sakura leaned forward, burying her head in her hands. Silent sobs escaped her lips, causing her tiny, fragile frame to quake.
"I am sorry Naoto. I am so, so sorry. I should have done better. I should have seen it. I- I didn't want to see it. I didn't want to be at fault. I could have done more. I- Forgive me. Please, I-"
A uncertain gasp escaped Sakura's lips, the moment Naoto's arms tenderly wrapped around her body. Fresh, hot tears began streaming down her face, as she reciprocated the embrace, burying her face in Naoto's shoulder and pulling him as close as possible.
Guilt, not anger, had guided Sakura's actions upon finding out the truth of the matter.
It felt like such a slap in the face, that Naoto had never even considered it an option, that Sakura would feel as if she was to blame for the act that had befallen him.
She wasn't. By the gods, it was not even remotely her fault, in his eyes. But the very fact, that she could spin the narrative in her mind, to come to such a conclusion, was horrific.
Naoto, as always, managed to overlook the irony of the situation.
"I have never blamed you, Sakura," he spoke gently, his warm hand resting on her back. "And I never will."
"Well, you should!"
Spurred on by the sensation of drowning in a lake of rotting shame, the blonde's nails dug shallow grooves into Naoto's skin. The man dared not bring attention to it, fearing it would cause Sakura to retreat and bring an end to this reflection of theirs.
"We should have been better to you," her soft, broken voice brushed against his ear. "You deserved so much more Naoto."
"I am doing alright now."
"It's too late. Way too late. You should have never had to deal with so much pain."
Sakura's softened her grip, bringing much needed releases to the tender spots she had dug into. With her breathing growing ever more stable again, Naoto slowly untangled his arms from her, delicately pushing away from her.
The woman's puffy eyes, circled by a dark red color, refused to look at his. Her arms were wrapped around herself, as if to cover up the vulnerability she had let seep through.
Naoto's lips curled into a sad smile, as he placed a uncertain hand on top of her head. It would have been a brazen lie to imply Naoto didn't feel out of his element, uncertain on how to lighten the burden of pain that Sakura had internalized for god knows how long. All he could truly hope to do, was his very best.
"Time doesn't stop," he stated quietly. "Not for me. Not for you. Not for anyone. We can't undo our past, but we can forge ahead toward whatever future we want for ourselves. I am not where I thought I would be, nor even where I wanted to be when I was in high school. But for this Naoto, the one I ended up as, this is where he belongs. I managed to get myself this far, despite everything. And I am proud. I think. I'll figure it out eventually."
The somber, uncertainty left his face, the smile of his now speaking of true joy and hope for the prospect of their futures.
His hand slowly slid lower, until it cupped Sakura's face, brushing a stray tear aside with his thumb.
"So don't cry anymore," he asked her in a soothing tone. "Please, don't blame yourself for what happened. I don't. And I am honestly happy now. It's rough, don't get me wrong. But I am happy."
Sakura's gaze lifted slowly, finally meeting his for the first time since they had separated. Naoto could feel her skin heating up beneath his hand, her eyelids lowering ever so slightly as she fully took in the man he had become.
"Ah. I see now."
"What?" Naoto asked curiously, worried he had messed up.
"Oh, nothing."
A smirk played on her lips as she pulled away from his tender touch to rise from her chair. Becoming suddenly very aware of her disheveled state, Sakura quickly dried her tears and hoped that her face wasn't an absolute mess.
Wanting to reclaim some of her playful, dignified manner, she kept her face turned away as she spoke. "You should let me help you with the makeup for your performance sometime. I am not sure how I personally feel about the vampire look, but I can definitely help you look more convincing."
Joy, sparked by Sakura's ability to shrug the pain off, if only temporarily, caused Naoto to scoff at her remark.
"Sure," he said. "I'll let you know."
Sakura turned back to him, a beaming smile on her face. Neither the tear stained skin, nor the ruined makeup on it, could put a dent into her natural beauty.
"You better!"