Two down, two to go.
Naoto sat in the passenger seat of Tadano's vehicle, right beside its owner, driving them down the highway, toward their next destination.
The sun, which had so mercilessly cooked them within the walls of the car previously, had now vanished behind the edge of the world, leaving them with only a handful of rays to navigate by.
Behind them, enjoying the luxuries that the larger back seats provided, Komi was laying across both seats, sleeping as soundly as the situation allowed. A quick peek into the side mirror let Naoto ensure that Hisao hadn't lost track of them within traffic yet.
Leaning his head against his hand, Naoto stared out into the world, perceiving nothing at all, lost in his own thoughts. The bright lights of the city scape ahead of them only further distorted his vision and mind. The radio was dead, neither of the lucid passengers eager to have superfluous noise pierce the silence they were driving in.
Naoto glanced down at the phone resting in his other hand, displaying the same image he had found himself taking solace in so frequently nowadays. It was the one of Maki, in a park, all by herself, holding onto some beer cans, lonely, yet full of life.
It was strange, that despite all the recent photos he had received from her, this was the one that continued drawing him back in. He wondered, why that could be the case. What about this piece was so striking to him?
Again, there was a certain sense of isolation radiating from it. She had been alone, surrounded by the void of a cold night. Sitting there, all by herself, a six pack of beer by her side, only further hammered in that feeling of glum despondence. Still, despite all of that, the smile she had given the camera had managed to pierce through it all, filling the void with a dominant light, demanding his attention.
The longer Naoto contemplated the puzzle, the closer he came to the only logical conclusion in his mind.
This was when he had first become aware of his feelings for her.
Something about the circumstances of that picture, told Naoto that he most likely shouldn't divulge that information to Maki.
Not like there had been many opportunities to tell her anything at all as of late. Trapped by his own trepidation, the man refused to bring up their messages to confirm exactly when the last time was, they had talked. After their last, crucial conversation, during which Maki had made him aware just how poorly she had been treated by him, their communication had come to a grinding halt.
Naoto knew he was to blame, for what else could cause any strife in his life?
Stop.
Chiding himself, Naoto let out a soft sigh, gripping the device in his hand just a little tighter.
Tadano next to him took note, as he always did.
"You alright?" he asked, never fully taking his eyes off the road.
"Yeah."
"That doesn't sound convincing."
Truly, Naoto wasn't sure what the most likely answer to the question was. Overall, his mind had been clearer than ever. For once, he felt in full control of his life, his future being his own to shape. Their path was laid out before them, all that was required from them, was the strength and courage to move onward.
But that didn't mean that all the dark clouds, nesting in his mind for most of his life, had dissipated. If anything, it only heightened the weight pushing down on his shoulders.
Now, he was the only one steering this ship into trouble. No longer was he at the mercy of another, no longer did the lingering doubts of the past force him down a path without his desire.
Which meant that each crack that would form within this semblance of a proper life, was solely his responsibility to claim.
Unnerved by this, more than anything in recent times, Naoto had lost the nerve to reach out to the woman of his dreams.
That notion in itself, caused Naoto to pause.
It was becoming rather apparent at this point, where his hearts belonged. It felt as though the realization should have come to him far sooner than it had, but evidently, his mind had warped his perception, in the hopes of guarding his world from further strife.
So afraid had he been, of the mere concept of inflicting pain on others, that he had inadvertently drowned his entire world, pulling all those he loved into a twisted game of love. The irony was palatable, as he had to face the reality of having caused unimaginable agony, entirely out of a misguided effort to avoid that very thing.
Thus, not only had he given out the gift of rotten, spoiled hope to people undeserving of it, but he also severed his tie to the most loyal of friends. Beneath the myriad of foolish ideas and impossible conclusions he had come to in his blind, almost zealous desire to harbor all suffering in the world for himself, Naoto had screwed up almost everything.
Looking back upon it now, there was this fleeting, cowardly instinct to blame his lack of mental reasonability on what had happened to him in the past. But this only furthered the disgust he felt within.
How could he claim to have moved on, if he was still leaning upon the past as a crutch as a safety net?
Naoto laid eyes upon Tadano, who glanced at his friend with concern, whenever the road ahead would permit it.
"I got a lot on my mind."
"Like what?" Tadano asked, hoping his friend would let him in.
"I am not sure this is really touring appropriate."
Naoto made a poor attempt at a smile, which faltered rather swiftly. There was no steam left within him, that would push him to tease his friend, or anyone for that matter.
He just felt tired.
Tadano knew it as well. "If it bothers you, it's always appropriate to discuss."
A tiny, genuine smirk appeared on Naoto's face.
"My mind is just running in circles. We have discussed all of this before. Just feeling guilty."
"Well, that's fine," Tadano expressed nonchalantly. "You did make mistakes. You are allowed to feel guilt for those. What's important is the ability to tell apart those things you are actually at fault for, from the mistakes that are not your own."
"What happened to telling me I am the goodest boy, who could never be wrong?"
Tadano sneered as he put on the blinker, to signal his intent to merge into the next lane over.
"Naoto," he spoke his name firmly. "I am not going to lie to you. I never have. You've been killing yourself over stuff that isn't your fault. Understanding and accepting what you have and haven't been responsible for is very important."
"I know that."
"It's going to take time, but I promise, I'll be here with you, every step along the way. I can definitely tell you, from my point of view, you are fine. You've fumbled here and there, like everyone does. All of us. But that doesn't make you a bad person. Just makes you flawed. Human."
Naoto's eyes narrowed slightly, as he let uncomfortable thoughts fill his brain.
"What about Nagatoro?"
Tadano sighed heavily, most likely having anticipated this swerve. "She's also human. But her mistakes are not comparable to yours. What she did was abhorrent. A crime. You're not even remotely similar."
Naoto nodded solemnly to himself, having slowly come to accept this fact as well. As much as he had attempted to downplay the severity of the woman's action, in order to nurture this delusional idea of a wholly peaceful existence he was striving for, it was no longer possible for him to turn a blind eye to what she had wrought.
Not only was it painful to Naoto himself, not only did it cause strife within circles of those he cared for the most, but it was also inexcusably disrespectful to those that had supported him all this time.
This also led his mind to regard some other, questionable circumstances, surrounding the whole situation.
Maki had shielded Nagatoro, for a long time. She had been fully aware of what had occurred, yet never left the woman's side, until such time as it became advantageous to her.
Naoto would be lying if he said that this didn't fill him with misgivings. But he also found himself having to admit, shamefully so, that it wasn't enough to halt these ever growing feelings of longing within him.
Maki had proven, time and time again, that she genuinely cared for Naoto. If her love wasn't true, then Naoto could not discern what would make love valid. She had supported him in his time of need, had held him close when the world was threatening to swallow him and even found the inner strength to push him away, when his growth required isolation.
As Tadano said, she had made a mistake. She was flawed. But how severe were her crimes? Would it matter to him in the long run? Would there be a moment when bottled up resentment, he was as of yet unaware of, would rear its ugly head and tear it all down?
Naoto cracked his knuckles, realizing he had been fidgeting with his hands, for far longer than he was comfortable with. It was a clear indication of him struggling with his anxiety, something he was not proud of openly showing.
Mercifully, Tadano did not comment on it, despite the fact his attentiveness had never wavered.
The venue was enormous, easily the largest location they had played at thus far. How Tadano had managed to convince the proprietors to let them perform here, would forever remain a mystery to Naoto.
The inside, sharing more in common with a theater than the average concert halls, was exceedingly spacious. The ceiling was rather high, which forced the artist to contemplate how their voices would carry.
Naoto could easily imagine an avalanche of people, threatening to crush each other beneath their passionate embrace of their love for music, within these halls.
Given the artist filling the venue was actually someone significant, unlike them.
Their claim to fame was so miniscule, that some that asked about their music, were not even aware of the band's name. Rather than calling them 'The four average', some of them just referred to their band as 'The Artists' or 'The Artist & Co.', among many other, admittedly humorous names.
Still, it left a bitter taste in his mouth, when those claiming themselves to be fans, slipped up in such a way. It felt as if it undermined his companions' efforts. Without their music, without the energy they provided him, the backdrop their passion supplied him, his voice would never carry. It would fall flat, incapable of piercing the heart of a single individual.
Naoto may have been the one to deliver their message, but the words belonged to them all.
Wishing to loosen up, just a little, before the performance, Naoto strutted past the curtain hiding the main stage, and into the halls leading toward their greenroom. These corridors always had a rather strange, unsettling atmosphere to him. It felt as though none lived in these halls, and one was cursed to roam the endless paths forever, lost on route to whatever it was they had sought out.
At least, as far as he remembered, no one had ever walked these halls along side him, besides his band members.
Luckily, before Naoto could let the eeriness of his mind creep into reality, he had found himself in front of the room. He quickly knocked on the door, to grab the attention of whoever was already inside.
There was no immediate response and Naoto began wondering if the rest of his band had left the venue without giving him a heads up. Yet, before he had the chance to open the door for himself, a set of heavy footsteps approached it.
Naoto raised a brow at the quiet, odd behavior of whoever it was within the room, but did not dare speak up, as if out of a petty desire to not be the first to break the silence.
Luckily, he did not have to wait there, standing awkwardly before the door, as it was suddenly and swiftly opened from the inside.
Naoto's eyes widened, as he found himself stunned, by the sight of the head of orange hair, standing across from him in the doorway. Wearing, a short leather jacket, over a navy blue shirt, with a pair of loosely fitting, torn up jeans, the woman looked like trouble. Carrying a tantalizing smirk on her black colored lips, Maki placed her hand on her hip and leaned toward Naoto, the scent of perfume filling his nostrils.
"Told you, I'd be here," the woman purred, her eyes practically devouring him. Evidently, the time apart from each other, had affected her just as much as it had Naoto, albeit it in different ways.
"Never doubted it," Naoto replied, a bashful smile shining through his flushing features.
He had almost forgotten how intimidating Maki could be in person.
No, that wasn't the correct word.
Maki was enticing. Each of her movements, her mannerisms, demanded his attention, at all times, ere he was to miss anything about the way she carried herself. The way her eyes flickered, illuminated by an all consuming fire in her chest, each time they met his, had him falling apart at the seams, every time.
This time was no different, as her very posture, atop her ridiculously attractive smirk, jellified his knees.
And she knew it. She could always tell.
With confidence and purpose, Maki took a half step forward, grabbing Naoto by his collar, and yanked him into the room, before shutting the door behind him.
Naoto's breath escaped him as Maki, who had now pulled him as close to her chest as physically possible, placed her free hand on his cheek, longer than usual, black nails gently, teasingly, scraping against his skin.
There was a not so insignificant part of his brain, screaming in absolute horror at the scene he had found himself in. A desire to push away, run and escape ballooned within him, forcing him to fight back against his own survival instinct.
Maki would not harm him.
He knew that to be true.
"I've missed you," she whispered flirtatiously, her gaze travelling from his hair, to his eyes and then even further below to his lips.
"I've missed you too Maki."
Evidently, hearing him say her name was enough to trigger something within her, as she instantly guided his lips to hers. There was a hunger, a desperate need, behind the way she kissed him. Naoto felt overwhelmed by her desires, but longed to give her everything she wanted.
Again, a piercing scream echoed through the halls of his mind, pleading for release from this terrifying encounter, but Naoto managed to just barely keep it under control.
"Are you okay?"
Naoto had hardly noticed that Maki found the willpower to separate herself from his lips, her eyes burning with desire, albeit it somewhat dampened by the flicker of concern creeping in.
"You can tell me to stop," she whispered comfortingly, lovingly stroking the side of his face.
Naoto found himself unable to resist the kindness in her soul, the gentle nature she was capable of bringing forth, despite the fire raging inside her.
He felt safe.
He felt loved.
He felt desired.
Naoto said nothing, but leaned in for another kiss, timid, asking for guidance. Maki answered immediately, moving her hand from his cheek, behind his head and into his hair. Entangling her hand in his mane, the woman only deepened their kiss, wishing to consume him whole.
Naoto wasn't sure how to handle this situation, one he had never even considered a possibility as he awoke that morning. Truly, despite the nature of his relationships, or no, rather due to their natures, Naoto had never expected to find himself in a position such as this.
Still, despite the tenseness spreading throughout his form and the silent, frightful pleading of his inner child, he felt no need to stop what had been set in motion.
If he were to drown out the agonizing voices, reminding him of suffering in his past, truthfully, this was bliss.
Pushed against the wall behind him, illuminated only by the grimy, insufficient lighting of the greenroom, Naoto was practically gasping for air. Maki's lips were tightly pressed against his, her tongue eagerly forcing its way past his own. Her fingers were tightly entwined in his fluffy hair, pulling on it just enough to cause a jittery thrill to rush through Naoto's body, but not enough to hurt him.
Red, hot sparks went off in his mind, as Maki's other hand slid beneath his shirt, finding its way up his abdomen.
There were further shouts of disapproval, ringing within the confines of his head, but the longer their kiss lingered, the more intoxicated he felt by it.
No facet of his delusional mind would prove powerful enough to tear him away from her now.
And Maki knew it.
Pressing herself into him, she permitted herself a moment of freedom from him, a predatory snarl on her face. She licked along her lips, gazing down at the black marks they had left on Naoto's face.
"Maybe that lipstick suits you more than me," she giggled, drunk on her desires.
Her red hair was tickling Naoto's nose, her right hand freeing itself from his hair, if only to lift his face by his chin. Those oranges eyes of hers told Naoto of all the love and adoration she felt in this moment.
It was almost too much for him to take in.
Naoto could feel his face flush with warmth, no matter how much he attempted to keep a grip on his outward showing of his embarrassment. Maki quickly picked up on it, her smile growing even more wicked.
"M-Maki, about this-"
"Yes?"
Taking in the sight of her, being left in awe by her beauty, Naoto was struck with the sudden realization that, if he were to let her, he was rather certain there would be no further walls between them.
Maki would take all of him as her own.
Something about that idea frightened him, and Maki could see that.
"What's wrong?" she asked, gentler this time, slowly retrieving her hands from him. "I- Please tell me if I went too far."
Naoto quickly, decisively, shook his head. "It's not your fault Maki. It's mine."
"What do you mean?"
The artist wriggled slightly beneath her, enough of a hint for her to back up, to give him room. He swiftly averted his eyes, suddenly filled with embarrassment, over how much he had lost himself in the passion Maki had brought with her.
"I- I am still not done," Naoto explained, remaining vague. "I still have something left to do before- You deserve better Maki. And I am not it. Not yet."
"You don't make sense," the woman replied, baffled. "I want you. How could you not be it?"
"Not yet," he reminded her. "Soon."
Maki pressed her lips together tightly, her mind, no doubt, clocking in at a thousand miles an hour right about now.
"What are you playing at?"
"You'll see. I hope."
Maki's brows furrowed as she tried to extract any sort of understanding from his eyes, yet was left without any clarity. After another minute of tense silence, she sighed.
"I trust you," she finally expressed, despite the suspicion on her face. "Just don't do anything stupid. Please."
"Can't promise, but I'll try."
With a bright, hopeful smile, Naoto faced Maki once again, his loving expression causing warmth to bubble up within Maki.
The redhead produced a tiny smile of her own, shaking her head. "You are so much trouble."
Naoto rolled his eyes at the statement, but was taken aback by Maki suddenly closing the distance between them once more, to place a final, adoring kiss on his lips.
"But you are totally worth it."
A storm of red whirled through the venue. Naoto, feeling the pressure forcing itself against his chest, building pound by pound, bared his soul in an effort to fight back.
The panic in his life had never let up, not for a moment that he could recall. Always, forever, trapped by the fear of being put under, trampled upon by those that felt no need to understand who he was deep inside.
Again and again, his terrific visions were validated, forcing his retreat deeper into the cage his mind had constructed for him.
There he had been, in the furthest corner of the entrapment, the deepest recess of his mind, when he had been robbed of even the last shred of safety.
Now the cage had vanished, evaporated, bringing with it freedom and the possibilities of abject failure. Choices were now his to make, each that he had decided upon so far only bringing with it more ruin.
Once again, he found himself his own worst nemesis, this time, without the another to lay blame on.
His eyelids flew open, his yellow tinted pupils staring down the tide that was wishing to tear him apart. A deep seated, ill harbored chill filled his very essence, causing a shudder to tear through him.
For a moment, his voice gave out, a silent pleading for comfort and warmth escaping his broken lips. Naoto felt the cracks spread across his face, revealing all of his flaws and insecurities for the world to gorge on.
A tug on his arm, a burning sensation on his face, Naoto felt torn from side to side, as if those leering at him wanted nothing more than to ravage him violently. His fingers, slowly losing the strength to manipulate the strings on his instrument, remained motionless.
Feeling the loss of autonomy, like a million bricks, slamming down on top of him, Naoto sought any ray of hope at all, to anchor himself in the moment. Something that would allow him to breathe, free himself from the hold that his self inflicted doubts were having him in.
Within the writhing masses below him, staring up with wondering, discerning eyes, Naoto found nothing but isolating cold. Time stilled and the artist could hear his heart crashing against its confinement, again and again. The music behind him continued, never wavering in its attempt to bring him back to where he belonged, right at the front of their step to glory.
Yet, he considered it all but impossible to push past the onslaught of self immolation he was at the mercy of.
Suddenly, a glint caught his eye. A quick glance toward the ever brighter shining, blinding light cutting through the dark, revealed Maki, standing amidst the seemingly parting crowd, staring up at him.
Her eyes were screaming at him, shouting from the heavens how much she believed in him, how much she loved him and it filled Naoto with a sense of longing in this isolated, torn down world he had built for himself.
Within the blink of an eye, they were all alone in the void, amidst the eye of the storm.
Maki's mere presence filled his spirit with the tenacity required to push past the flames licking at his heels. The heat radiating from the mental scars left all across his being was cooled by a soothing chill brought upon him through the love he felt connecting them both.
Naoto shut his eyes for a moment, opening and closing his hand, just to confirm to himself that he had always been in control. It was his life to live, his future to shape.
No one would take it from him.
From them.
His eyes opened once again, the crowd before him cheering as he continued to pour his passion, his soul and his very essence into the performance.
This was to be his legacy.
This was going to be their group's moment.
This was when their band rose.
Naoto's breath finally returned to normal, regulating itself to a degree that he was able to stand from the seat he had been occupying for the last ten minutes. Watching him with wrecked nerves, from the chair besides his, Tadano swiftly hopped on his feet as well.
"You alright?" he asked, moving to support his friend if necessary.
"Yeah. I am fine."
"Naoto-"
"I mean it." the artist assured, politely pushing Tadano's quaking hand away. "It was just a lot more intense than I had thought it would be."
Tadano furrowed his brows in contemplation for just a moment, before a gentle smile graced his lips and he returned his hand to the side of his hip.
"Well, as long as you are fine now," he said, taking a step past Naoto. "Then I guess, let's go get some signing out of the way."
Naoto quickly followed Tadano out of the greenroom, out into the once again, desolate hallways. Past a handful of twists and turns, Tadano somehow perfectly lead toward a red door, signaling the pathway connecting the labyrinth to the front end of the venue.
With a confident gait, Tadano pushed through the door, holding it open for Naoto to follow.
The artist was almost overwhelmed by the masses he witnessed before him. So many people had come to see them, come to revel in their music together, as one.
Naoto couldn't possibly pinpoint who spotted him first, but what started with a single cheer, erupted into a howling mass of figures bouncing up and down, cheering for his arrival.
It was metaphorically and literally overwhelming, to hear so many appreciate the fact that he was here, that he existed.
The artist had to tightly shut his eyes for a moment, to fight off burning tears of uncertain emotions. Tadano put a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing it softly.
Naoto nodded, opening his eyes again and walking onto a stage ahead of them, slightly raised of the ground, to sit behind a long table. Tony and Hisao were already at their seats, chatting away with the audience, signing autographs when asked for them.
The moment he hit the back of the chair; people began rushing up to him, pushing past each other for the opportunity to have a few words with him, receive an autograph or take a picture with him.
It was surreal to experience a push and pull over himself, of all things. To be frank, he had been utterly blindsided by the amount of people that had shown up for today's concert. Having been entirely focused on the touring aspect of their journey, leaving the promotional and social media aspect to Tony and Hisao, Naoto had not been made aware of just how far their music had reached, in such a short time.
It was truly unbelievable to him. Yet the reality was undeniable.
For the following hour, Naoto found himself essentially glued to his chair, answering all sorts of questions, from the benign to the odd and truly out there, signing his name and messages on shirts, CD's, hats, cards and taking enough selfies with fans that by the end of it, he almost felt confident in the way he presented himself.
It was only then, when exhaustion finally crept into his mind, that the next person stepping up to him, turned out to be Maki.
The smile adorning her face radiated warmth, filling Naoto with a sense of refilled vigor, as he leaned forward in his chair to greet her.
"Hello there," he began, acting as if she was just another stranger in the crowd. "Did you enjoy the show?"
"I sure did," she replied, placing her hands onto the table, just a few inches away from where Naoto's were folded together. "The music was excellent, probably the best I've ever heard from you guys. I was kind of concerned, though, when the lead singer suddenly seemed to struggle halfway through."
Maki's playful veneer slipped somewhat, as she deliberately lowered her voice. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah."
Naoto unclasped his hands, reaching out toward Maki's with one, barely stroking the side of hers with his fingers. "Just got a little overwhelmed by it all."
The loving smile returned to the woman's face, as she placed her hand atop Naoto's free one, just basking in the warmth the small contact was bringing them both.
But the longer the moment sustained, the denser the clouds above their heads seemed to become, as Maki's gaze fell.
"Naoto?"
"Yeah?"
Maki slowly, reluctantly, withdrew her hands, letting her head fall enough that her hair obscured her face. The words came out in an almost inaudible whisper, as if Naoto was never truly intended to perceive them.
"I don't want you to see Nagatoro anymore."
Naoto watched the surprisingly meek looking woman ahead of him, a painful mixture of resolution and defiance rising within him. Maki was part of the reason Hayase even had a modicum of a hope to return into his life. It was partially her fault that so much of this never ending heart ache had ripped right through them all. In some form, she was, and had always been, the one pushing both of them toward an inevitable collision course.
Yet here she was, finally giving into her own, personal desires. At last, she revealed that despite the fact she had wet their brows, while shouting words of encouragement, as they were digging their own graves, Maki was now unable to deal with the reality of what she had helped create.
"Just a little more," Naoto returned to his vagueness. "You'll see."
Maki lifted her head again, glancing timidly into his eyes, as if frightened by what she could potentially find within them.
Yet, all she was met with, was the confidence of a man she had always known existed, but so rarely had the privilege of encountering.
The tables had turned, as it was her now, who felt somewhat intimidated by the man staring at her with such strength and domineering spirit gleaming from within.
Maki bit her lower lip, pursed them tightly, enough that it hurt, before nodding her head once.
"I trust you."