Chapter Text
Japan - Nowadays
I
Reo woke up crying again. It had been something common since he was a small kid. In those days, it was easy to say it was because he was scared, or missed his parents, or any of the things small kids cry about.
But no, Reo knew it was because of the dream. It had been difficult to understand at first, because he barely remembered it. He just woke up feeling lonely and hollow, as if he had been left behind by someone important. But now he could remember the whole dream—always the same.
He was just wiping the last tears when Chigiri passed by his door. His door was always ajar, Reo hated closed doors; they made him uneasy. Chigiri said it was claustrophobia. Bachira said it was trauma from a past tragic life. Reo just didn’t like the sensation of not being able to leave whenever he wanted to.
Chigiri stopped and peeked around the door.
“The dream again?”
Reo just nodded.
“The one with the rice boy?” Bachira was there too. He was wearing an apron and had something on his nose. When Chigiri pointed it out, Bachira started trying to taste the spot with his tongue. Reo snorted.
“Well, at least we made you laugh,” Bachira said, still trying to reach his nose tip. “Hurry to the kitchen,” he shouted while walking away. “I have made Bachira’s special pancakes.”
Reo stood up, feeling lighter than before. Another constant thought crossed his mind: what would he do without them? He changed into comfy clothes and jumped when he turned and saw Chigiri was still there.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Chigiri asked, his long red hair gleaming in the morning light.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? It’s just a dream,” Reo said, passing a huge sweatshirt over his head.
“One that makes you cry, every single time,” Chigiri pressed on.
“It’s just a sad dream. But meaningless—there is nothing in it that can relate to me, or my life.”
“I still think you should tell your therapist.”
They walked down the hall and into the kitchen. It smelled great… but it was chaos.
“Right, my therapist. Imagine that conversation: I’ve been having a dream about a boy in a rice field that seems to follow me everywhere, in feudal Japan.” Bachira snorted. “It would be like the time I said I could see demons, and that landed me in therapy. So no, thanks. I’ll keep my dream to myself… and you.”
Bachira piled a tower of pancakes onto their plates and sat next to Reo.
“Is the boy still crying outside the door?” he asked while pouring maple syrup on top of the pancakes.
Reo tensed. He had only told them that part of the dream once because it had been terrifying and painful.
In the first part of the dream, Reo and the peasant boy ran and played in a beautiful river near a sakura tree, but then, at night, the boy was crying his heart out, pounding at a closed door, calling Reo’s name. Reo was nowhere to be seen.
“Maybe it is about your past life,” Bachira went on, while Chigiri rolled his eyes, mouth full of pancakes.
“Maybe that dream means you were a princess, locked in a castle by your evil father. And the boy wants to free you, take you in his arms, kiss you, and marry you.” Bachira was already on his feet, holding the poor cat in his arms, about to kiss its nose. The cat hissed and escaped Bachira’s arms.
The three of them laughed.
“Certainly, having you twist my dreams is a great way to take it easy,” Reo said, finally tasting the pancakes.
“Well, we cannot keep crying over a dream, can we?” Bachira said it in that knowledgeable tone he sometimes acquired, which sounded out of place with his character.
“Besides, today is an important day,” Chigiri said, pouring some milk for both Reo and Bachira. “Is the song ready, Reo?”
Reo nodded. The three of them finished breakfast in silence, expectation hanging in the air.
They had been a formal band for two years now, and in the last one, they had consolidated as Japan’s most important boy band in the industry. There was just no one nearly as good as them. There was a reason for it: they had been singing together forever.
Reo, Bachira, and Chigiri were brothers, not by blood, but by life. They had been abandoned, adopted, and raised together from a young age. And luckily, their adoptive parents were none other than a previously famous musical duo: Anry and Ego. So, Reo and his brothers had been training in show life since childhood.
Once they decided to form the band, Ego’s contacts and Anry’s management had ensured their triumph, but tonight they wanted to take an even bigger step. They were presenting, for the first time, a song completely of their own.
So far, they had played what Anry provided. They were allowed to make comments, ask for a particular rhythm, or tweak the lyrics, but it was not their music yet. Tonight, however, they would present Anry with a new song—the first of a whole album they had prepared and ready. Chigiri and Bachira had worked on the music; the lyrics were all Reo’s.
But this one—this one was special.
II
In the meeting room of the record label, their managers and mom, Anry, heard the demo with attention. The song was soft at first, like water murmuring, but then it became powerful, like a call, like a key that opened whatever it had been containing.
“Did you write it, Reo?”
“Yes,” he answered, still distracted.
Anry nodded slowly. Then she turned off the music and looked at them very seriously.
“This will be your next single. We will release it as soon as possible.”
“What?” Chigiri jumped. “So soon? But we still have to work on some arrangements… and the concept of the album…”
“Don’t worry. Trust me,” Anry said, standing up and looking out the window.
None of the boys knew. They did not remember, but Anry did. She had been in the same position years ago; it had also been her responsibility once. She knew who they were. She knew the voices of these three boys not only sold records—they sealed the seams of the world. And that seal was getting weaker.
That same night, they started the rehearsals for the official recording. It was midnight when Reo delivered the first full performance of the song, leaving them breathless.
III
Beyond reality, in the eternal ruins of the demon world, the song echoed as a calling. The notes went through the cracks like water.
Nagi raised his head. The sound perforating his chest.
“Reo…”
The demon king smiled as soon as he saw Nagi running toward him.
“Have you recognized him?” he asked from his throne.
“Yes,” Nagi breathed. “It is him…and he is singing to me.” The lyrics, that only Nagi seemed to understand in that world, talked to him about a promise, about waiting for something that had remained unfulfilled, about longing and pain.
“Do you still want him?”
“I will do anything to have him again,” Nagi answered, looking into the world beyond.
“Then go,” the demon king smiled.
“Really?” Nagi was in despair.
“Of course,” the king said, voice soft and honeyed. “We had a deal, remember? I will give you a chance—make sure you do not waste it.”
Nagi nodded. He did not notice the shadow growing behind him. He just contemplated his ascension to the world, seeking the only thing that had made him accept the deal that had kept him waiting for so long: love.