Archive of Our Own ^beta

Iori fought the urge his eyes were feeling to stay open, turning over onto his stomach in an effort to fall asleep again. The mental clock effortlessly engraved in his mind told him that it was early in the morning still — even for him, early riser and punctual practically to the half-second — too early to get out of bed, especially on one of the rare days in which his schedule did not call for him until late in the afternoon. Reasoning with his instinctual urge to be awake and be using his time productively, Iori told himself that it was important for idols to get lots of sleep.

And yet, his mind and body were two entirely different things. Finally giving up, Iori pushed the blanket off his legs, took hold of the railing to his bunkbed, and stepped down the metal ladder carefully. He personally disliked days off under normal circumstances, but these were irregular circumstances anyway, since MEZZO" had work filming as usual, his brother and Yamato were working together on a program, Nagi was modeling, and Riku had some kind of interview in the morning. It was one of those busy kind of days that seemed to happen frequently as of late, but for once Iori was the one who was free, and all alone at the dorms in the morning. Even still, he had the impression that his unitmates were still asleep, considering that when he stepped out of his bedroom he didn't see any lights on. But that was business as usual for him.

Figuring he shouldn't start any trouble fussing over breakfast just yet, Iori skipped it for then and walked past the kitchen and to the bathroom so he could take his shower before Riku woke up. There were three bathrooms in the dorms, so gradually over their time living there each subunit had ended up claiming one for themselves without ever really discussing it. This had mostly led to a still-sleepy Tamaki getting an extra helping of scolding from Sougo in MEZZO"'s bathroom, Riku and Iori bickering over who would be the first in the shower every morning, and Mitsuki, Nagi, and Yamato frequently waking up the other members because of Nagi's oblivious sense of volume and Mitsuki's equally loud shouts of protest.

However, from his and Riku's bathroom, light and hot air flowed from beneath the door. It looks like Riku was up, after all. His job began pretty early in the morning after all, so he probably wasn't counting on Iori to be awake anyway. It was at times like these that Iori could smile and marvel at Riku's progress, and his dedication. Riku wasn't exactly the type to be super strict about everything — that's why Iori was there by his side to guide him along in everything in that regard — but when it mattered, he was a hardworking guy. And to take care of the hard and boring work while Riku brought IDOLiSH7 to shine brightly at the top; that was somewhat how Iori would describe his own role.

But they hadn't always been so close like this. Even now, years after they'd met, Iori didn't consider his relationship with Riku to be anything too special. When he'd mention that to the other members, though, they'd smile like they knew something he didn't or simply laugh. But Iori really believed it was true — maybe Riku didn't like him, but he was fine with that. He merely wanted to be Riku's guide. Whether it was by his side, or from a distance, Iori didn't mind. Perhaps letting himself get close to Riku and his talent would be meddlesome — would cause problems to arise — but Iori doubted it could happen anyway.

Iori raised his hand, intending to quietly knock on the bathroom door. He could hear the head of the shower sounding out that fizzy-like noise, and he could hear the water hitting Riku's body and cascading onto the tile floor. But what was more, Iori could hear faintly Riku's voice echoing off the walls of the shower; he was singing. If Iori were to be facing Riku at the time, then he would have teased him for it, saying You should save your voice for the stage, or I see you're as embracing of your childish side as ever, Nanase-san. But at the moment, Iori was alone and Riku wasn't aware of his presence. So he had nothing to say. He rested his hand against the door, hesitated for a second, and then placed the side of his head against it and leaned against the door.

This is embarrassing, Iori inevitably found himself thinking as his ear pressed eagerly against the door. But it's amazing how Nanase-san can draw people in with his voice effortlessly — he's not even trying and I'm captivated by it.

Riku was, of course, singing one of IDOLiSH7's songs — it wasn't on the set list for their next performance, so Iori for a moment felt chagrin; but immediately flushed as he reasoned that Riku didn't have to be practicing at all times of the day, especially as he showered of all times. Iori sat there, leaning against the door, as Riku moved his voice up and down and let it erupt from his throat. There was just no describing Riku's voice; to Iori it was as if it were godsent. It was clear and as light as air, colorful and bright and expanding — it was eternal and yet ephemeral; everywhere and nowhere. Iori closed his eyes, being vaguely but not completely conscious of his heart hammering in his chest.

"Yo. Iorin."

Iori jumped like a skittish cat. "Y-Yotsuba-san?" he whispered in alarm. With a sharp glance and a hasty turn of his head, he also noticed Sougo trailing closely behind him.

"You look happy," said Sougo warmly as he and Tamaki approached Iori. "Did something happen?"

"N-Nothing in particular..." Iori responded crisply, and cursed his face for turning so clearly crimson — a dead giveaway. Sougo smiled, and took mercy on him by letting the subject slip through his fingers.

"Waiting for Riku-kun to get out of the shower, then?" He guided Tamaki along to their own bathroom. "You can use ours, if you want. Tamaki-kun and I still need to eat breakfast."

"Ehh? Sou-chan, you said I could use the shower first today... Iorin will make the floor slippery," Tamaki complained, pulling on Sougo's sleeve with a needy look in his eye. Iori looked apologetic.

"That's not necessary, Ousaka-san. I don't have work until later, so you and Yotsuba-san should use it for yourselves instead. I'll wait for Nanase-san to get out."

"... Well, if you're okay with it." Sougo waved him off, and started down the hall again. Tamaki looked content, and followed Sougo closely behind after calling something out to Iori.

"Iorin, step away from the door, you look like a perv."

Sougo smacked Tamaki's shoulder, and they entered the bathroom while Iori heard Sougo mutter —"He was smiling like a maiden in love~". Iori's face flushed yet again, and he looked bashfully down at the ground. He could no longer hear Riku's singing from the shower, and Iori could bet that Riku had heard his and MEZZO"'s voices outside. Taking mind to Tamaki's words, Iori stepped away from the door and soon enough he heard the shower shut off.

  "Iori." Iori heard his name being called before the bathroom door cracked open. Riku sheepishly peeked his head out, hair soaked wet. "Can you get me a towel?"

Without answering, Iori took a few steps over to the closet and pulled out a towel for Riku. He stared at it. He sighed and let his forehead rest against the wall in distress. What was all this? The notion wasn't new — neither the notion that he adored Riku's voice, nor the notion that he intended to stay by his side — but it was almost as if what Sougo said had stirred something. Realization? Like an incredibly important truth had dawned upon him? What was it? What hadn't Iori predicted to happen that was happening? If it was a realization, then shouldn't he know what it was?

Iori tried to sort his thoughts, methodically, in case it would give him some peace of mind. He wanted to bring Riku to the top and achieve his dream. Which was natural, right? Since it was because of IDOLiSH7 and Riku's strength that his life meant something. He sometimes thought of what his life would be like if he was never scouted for IDOLiSH7; if he had never met Riku and the others; if his brother didn't want to become an idol. He would... probably be continuing his meaningless life. Obediently staying inside to study, perfectly scoring on exams, staring outside his window as the rain fell, feeling a sense of emptiness buried in his chest. But it wasn't like that. Not anymore.

If Iori's old life was emotionless greys and whites and blacks, then the second he heard Riku's voice sing everything began to be in color. It had spun his life around; showed him things he never could have seen in the boring and monochrome world he had lived in. Iori had taken hold of it like it was a precious jewel, a shining star — and it was, to him, worth the same price — and he never wanted to let go. Forever, he wanted the entire world to hear the voice that changed his life. Forever, he wanted to repay his debt to Riku even if it didn't matter to anyone but him. Forever, he wanted Riku to look at him and think that he was vital to succeeding, that Riku wouldn't be there without him. Wanted people to hear his center's voice, so that he could tell everyone that he was there by that person's side the whole time.

... Embarrassing.

"Ioriii...!" Riku whined from behind the door. Iori blinked and rushed back to the bathroom, covering his eyes with one hand respectfully as he held the towel out for Riku to grab. "Thanks," he heard him say off-handedly. Iori glowered, although it wasn't as if Riku could see him.

"Why can't you ever bring in a towel beforehand?" he condescendingly muttered, hoping the glare in his eye would reach Riku through his tone of voice. Iori felt the ice-cold and unmoving wall against his back, as if he were overly conscious of it for some unknown reason. Like a push back to reality, he heard the door click open, and Riku shot out with a towel wrapped neatly around his waist and an indignant expression on his face.

"You're the one who always grabs a million towels when we get ready in the morning!"

"It's because I'm covering for you. I'm telling you that you never remember them, Nanase-san."

"It's just because I'm used to you bringing them in!"

"Untrue. I hadn't started bringing them in until you had already established that pattern."

"No, you didn't!"

"I did."

"Did not!"

A door swung open down the hall, and the sleepy face of Mitsuki appeared from its entrance. "Oi! Iori, Riku, keep it down!" he whisper-shouted. "I didn't have to get up for another hour!"

"Nii-san!" Iori lowered his voice, instinctively shifting his gaze to the ground. "Sorry."

"Sorry about that, Mitsuki," whispered Riku apologetically with a genial smile on his face. "I'll scold Iori more strictly from now on."

"I find it hard to believe that scoldings from someone like you will do much good to anyone, much less me, Nanase-san," Iori retorted in that matter-of-fact tone of his.

"'Someone like me'? I'm older than you, you know!" Riku insisted. "You should listen more to your seniors!"

Mitsuki made another sour face down the hall, and raised his voice. "Both of you, shut up! You're waking everyone up!"

Mitsuki slammed his door, and Iori and Riku awkwardly shared a glance after being duped into an almost shocked silence. Riku let out a sigh, as if gingerly holding up his white ribbon of defeat. "Why are you up, anyway?"

"No reason. I couldn't sleep," replied Iori, avoiding eye contact. He was telling the truth, but on its own, his mouth said things to dance around the subject, and he squeezed his fists tightly. Like the subject could lead to something awkward, something Iori would prefer not to talk about. His voice spoke before he could think; sounded dismissive, and said things that seemed suspicious. What it was trying to avoid, Iori could only wonder.

Riku shifted, and Iori couldn't help but sense that he too felt apprehensive about something. "... So... U-Uh, how long have you been here?" he murmured, acting uncharacteristically shyly.

"Ah... Well... It's hard to say," Iori replied softly. "Your singing was amazing like always."

"I-Iori...!" Riku sputtered, red in the face. "So you were listening?!"

"What's the problem? You sing in front of everyone on a regular basis, Nanase-san."

"N-No, it's totally different! Iori, you pervert!"

"You're the pervert! Go put some clothes on...!" Iori grumbled, trying to obscure his reddening cheeks as he turned his face from Riku's vision. Was being honest the wrong thing to do? And his heart was beating quickly now; did that happen before, or was he just now becoming more aware of it? What exactly was he afraid of? As Iori's mind wandered again, Riku hpmh'd and begrudgingly took a few steps back into the bathroom.

Everything that he had taken as a given before was beginning to be questioned, and Iori disliked it. As if he were a detective in a mystery manga, he was taking every small thing and putting in under suspicion, because he wanted to find the source of the problem; the culprit of the incident. Every emotion — Iori was more wary of it now. It was only natural that Iori would do that, because he was that sort of person, but it was strange to him that he hadn't sensed something amiss before then. He had never thought of himself as a thoughtless or airheaded person, but... Something was amiss.

Riku came out of the bathroom doorway once more, with rather casual clothes on. Well, he was just going for an interview anyway. Iori tried to make eye contact with him, but his body refused, and instead his eyes floated away to the wall. Riku gave him a conflicted look and walked past him into the kitchen. Iori racked his mind for a solution— he didn't know what was going on with himself. He surely couldn't ask for assistance from someone else; it was such a trivial matter, and he couldn't possibly bring himself to say anything that wasn't too obscure to understand. As if he could possibly admit to anyone except himself his true stance regarding Riku. He barely understood it himself.

Iori stepped into the bathroom, and stripped the clothes from his body. After stepping into the shower, he turned a knob and let hot water stream down his body, like they were washing away his thoughts.

— 

"Thank you, Iori-kun," said the host in a monotone voice backstage, after the cameras had stopped rolling. "Next time, please come to work a bit more focused. Thank you for your hard work today. You're dismissed."

"More focused...?" Iori muttered after the host bowed and walked away. "I wasn't focused...?"

Before he could dwell on it any longer, Iori heard a familiar voice call his name down the backstage area's hallway. "Nii-san?" he thought aloud, quirking his eyebrows inquisitively.

"Iori!" Mitsuki yelled again; he held something up with left hand, and wielded an fervent grin. Iori rushed over to him, the scent of baked goods becoming more obvious to him as he drew nearer. Mitsuki held a white paper bag out to his brother. "Mom made some stuff for us again, so I thought I could come and surprise you with it! You just finished filming, right?"

Iori smiled. "Yeah. Thanks for coming, Nii-san." He reached his hand over and delicately took a pastry from the bag, and Mitsuki did the same. The two of them left the studio and started down the street, Iori nibbling gingerly on the dessert as they went. "Nii-san, I thought you had to film all day today? It's still afternoon, so shouldn't you still be with Nikaidou-san?"

"The director threw up right in the middle of filming, so they told us to go home. I guess he ate something bad?" Mitsuki chuckled. "I was really grossed out, but Yamato just laughed. He's probably used to seeing vomit, the damn drunk."

"You're a drunk too, Nii-san."

Mitsuki laughed, and he — being too short to pat his head — pat Iori's back affectionately. "Iori, you're the last person I want to hear say that." Iori's face flushed as he looked to the ground. Mitsuki's expression flipped around into one of concern; he tipped his head to the side. "Hey, so what's up with you? You looked pretty bummed out when you finished filming."

Iori looked at the cars passing by, trying simultaneously to obscure his face so that no fan of his could recognize him. "The host told me I was distracted."

Iori could tell Mitsuki was trying to bite back his surprise. "Well, were you?" he said in an earnest attempt to dig further, recovering quickly from his shocked reaction.

"I didn't think I was..." Iori muttered. He took a troubled bite of pastry. There was a childish vulnerability about him like this that only Mitsuki could notice. It was kind of selfish of him, but Mitsuki liked seeing this side of Iori a lot. Not only because he liked all sides of his brother, but the sense of responsibility Mitsuki felt was comforting. Ever since Iori had become an idol, Mitsuki was seeing this side of him more and more frequently. Which was a good thing, mostly. At least in Mitsuki's eyes it was; Iori maybe would think of it as a flaw, but seeing his perfectionist little brother crack at the edges — seeing his seams fray — was a sign that he was in fact human.

And maybe a sign that Mitsuki could be a good older brother. He quietly cemented the resolve within himself to get to the bottom of whatever was bothering him; or at the least, make him feel better about it. "Did you and Riku fight this morning?" Mitsuki guessed hopefully.

  "No."

  "So you did?"

  "... Define fighting."

Mitsuki sighed, looking hopelessly and with a small and tired smile at his little brother. "Defined as, you did something to upset him and now he's sulking and you don't know how to deal with it?"

"Nii-san, you seem to know a lot about what Nanase-san and I's fights are like."

"Nah, that's just what Sougo described them as," Mitsuki grinned. "It's funny you think it's true though."

"Ousaka-san..." Iori murmured, again dragging his gaze to the ground, "said something to me, and now I can't understand."

"Can't understand what...?"

"Nanase-san. What my objective for Nanase-san is." Iori took a bite of the dessert held now tightly in his hand. "I don't understand what I'm aiming for anymore. I used to know, but now it's... blurred, and if it doesn't go back to normal, I don't think my judgement will be clear. Or if I can't manage to focus, like the host said to me..."

So this runs deeper than some petty fight between them...? Mitsuki's thoughts floated about. Am I really the best person for Iori to talk to about this? What if I tell him something stupid? Maybe I should wait and ask Yamato, or Nagi — there's no way I can give him advice about something this personal.

But...

"Iori." Mitsuki laughed with a light heart, and Iori's own heart fluttered at the notion that maybe his brother knew what he was going through. "Iori, it sounds like... it sounds like you're pretty fond of Riku."

"... Excuse me?"

"You don't get it 'cause you haven't felt it before~" Mitsuki hooked his arm playfully around Iori's neck, and dragged down his younger brother's face which was swiftly flushing in embarrassment. "It's fine, Nii-san will help you!"

"Nii-san, what are you talking about...?" Iori's complexion was red, but he still managed to look clueless, and dubious as to whatever Mitsuki could be discussing.

"Well —" Mitsuki's eyes twinkled — "my little brother's fallen in love. I have some kind of right to be happy about it, don't you think?" He grinned. Iori merely sputtered for a moment.

"Love? Please don't say something so unprofessional."

Iori's heart pounded and simultaneously his mind raced with thoughts. Mitsuki released his grip around his brother's neck, observing the expression on Iori's face that told clearly of how he was assessing the idea. Of course, Mitsuki looked apologetic soon after. "Well, don't take my word for it~ You're better off consulting one of the other members about this, yeah?"

Iori's eyes steeled. "It's trivial, Nii-san. Isn't it?"

In contrast, Mitsuki's eyes softened. "Of course it's not trivial, Iori. It's your feelings, you know?"

Iori gazed thoughtfully into the paper wrapper where his — now nothing but crumbs — pastry used to be, and failed to respond to Mitsuki's reassurance. Mitsuki hoped this was because he had acknowledged it, and not because he was brushing it aside. The only thing he could do was hope, after all. The two of them walked the rest of the way to the dorm in a somewhat comfortable silence, as if Iori was mulling something over. Mitsuki felt warm inside, with the knowledge that he had helped his little brother with something giving him a sense of pride, but in a way that he couldn't describe. Maybe it was because the very fact that he was feeling this emotion meant that Iori was still growing, which made him happy.

They arrived at the entrance to the dorm pensively, with white paper bags and plastic wrappers crumpled in their hands. Mitsuki offered nothing more than a smile before the two of them parted ways. Mitsuki hoped it conveyed his feelings — "I'm cheering you on!" — clearly. After nodding him off, Iori wandered aimlessly into the kitchen. He glanced at the refrigerator and reached to open it, intending to pour some water, when abruptly his cell buzzed in his pocket. He drew it out, seeing a message pending in his Rabbitchat.

7:05pm — Riku Nanase: iori, sorry for being a baby this morning >< are you done with work for today??

Iori tapped out a reply.

7:06pm — Iori Izumi: Yes, I just got home with Nii-san. Why do you ask?

7:06pm — Riku Nanase: welllll, i'm almost home too!! wanna hang out when i get there?

7:06pm — Iori Izumi: That's fine.

7:07pm — Riku Nanase: "that's fine"??? at least be a little more excited ww

Iori locked his phone with a sigh. As had become a custom whenever Riku felt up for it, he probably wanted to watch a movie — so he'd constantly ask questions and Iori would lecture him about paying attention to the movie so much that by the end neither of them would have any idea what was actually happening — or make dinner together; Riku usually was pretty clumsy with it though, so in reality it was actually Iori making dinner and Riku sticking around to talk Iori's ear off or read the recipe off to him. Either way, the fact that Riku was texting him freely was a sign that he wasn't mad at him for the ordeal in the bathroom anymore, which was relieving.

It was summer though. If he had to choose one way or another, Iori liked summertime because its burning humidity generally meant that Riku was less prone to attacks, but Iori hated cooking in the summer, so he secretly hoped that Riku had a movie in mind. He opened the fridge to get his water; his throat suddenly felt significantly more dry than it had before. His mind didn't want to drift to Mitsuki's words to him, and so he tried to focus on the feeling of cold water slipping down his throat as he waited for Riku to arrive. And sure enough, Iori did soon hear the click of the door distantly from another room.

"Ioriii!" Riku's voice sounded from the entrance; he trotted into the kitchen curiously as if he already knew where Iori would be residing. He was smiling like always again, perhaps having already put the morning's incidents behind him. Although Iori regarded him frankly (as he always did), something tugged discreetly at his insides, like a small voice whispering that this puppy-like demeanor of Riku's was actually pretty cute. Riku skipped over to his side, shoving a flyer into his hands with a triumphant grin on his face.

Without words, Iori took it and skimmed the flashy, eye-catching title printed at the top. It seemed that a local park was hosting a fireworks event for the summer, and was boasting food stands and activities. Like a festival. He glanced expectantly to where Riku was standing tensed hopefully, and when Riku saw this, he spoke. "You wanna go together? To the fireworks?" The sheepish avidity in his tone of voice was very perceptible, but regardless, Iori pretended not to notice it.

"Absolutely not. There are far too many things that could give you an attack," he ruled coldly. "The smoke in the air, among countless other factors that we couldn't anticipate."

Riku's expression scrunched up in distaste. "So I'll wear a mask and bring my inhaler!" he insisted. "Pleeease, Iori...! You've probably never seen a fireworks show, right? And neither have I! Don't you want to go...?!"

Iori shook a clingy and pleading Riku off his arm. "Cute..." he muttered as he did so, and promptly sighed. "Alright. I'll accompany you so that you don't have an attack."

"You act like I'm a baby," Riku pouted with a cute smile. "I know Iori wants to go with me, right?"

Iori failed to respond, or maybe refused to. Riku said something about going to get face masks for the two of them, and Iori was left with his thoughts. Except soon they were interrupted once again by Sougo, who came into the kitchen. He blinked when he saw Iori, but smiled pleasantly nonetheless. "Ah, so you're going out with Riku-kun?" he said, as if he had only just figured it out himself. "He was so excited going to get something I couldn't talk to him about what it was."

"Yes, he wanted to see the fireworks show since he hadn't seen one before," Iori stated with little emotion revealed in his tone. Sougo laughed, making Iori confused.

"He says that, but he probably just wants to share it with you." Iori squirmed under Sougo's teasing gaze. "I actually wanted to go with Tamaki-kun, but I never got around to asking him... Since we're so busy with work for MEZZO" and all, he probably just wants to be lazy. I figured I should let him be."

"You should rest too, Ousaka-san. If you spend too much of your time like this, you'll overwork yourself."

Sougo's expression changed to a politely accepting one, and excused himself just as Riku hopped over to Iori and handed him a face mask. Not only did Riku need something to keep dirt and dust and smoke from entering his system, but they both needed a slightly inconspicuous way to cover up their faces; if they were spotted out in public, the cameras would start clicking and, worse case scenario, rumors would begin spreading. After Iori had tied his around his face, he confirmed that Riku had his inhaler with him — he received a short-lived "Yup!" and a thumbs up — and the two of them set off, trusting that Sougo would inform the rest of the members of their whereabouts if questioned.

Iori and Riku, in the past, had seldom found reason to spend extra time together; Iori was, of course, constant in insisting it was unnecessary and meddlesome to develop his relationship with the precious center, especially when surely Riku did not wish to spend time with him either. But Riku, on the contrary, did want to get closer to Iori — in the most earnest way you could imagine. But as time goes on, as their senpai in Re:vale had always mused, you end up falling into the trap of closeness no matter how desperately you attempt to resist. Although it was true of everyone in IDOLiSH7, it was especially true of the two of them — after everything they'd endured together and after being grouped together so frequently.

Although misunderstandings still happened, it was now easier for Riku to decipher the intentions behind Iori's cold words; and even so, those very words were less cutthroat and shed more truth than before. What they would have shied away from expressing before, they now shared to each other in a carefree manner. Their trust in each other had grown miles from where it had been before, and Iori was content with it. His wish was to watch Riku from afar, support him from afar, make Riku trust him from afar; yet as time went on Iori noticed that it was the more mundane things that Riku seemed to enjoy the most. Riku didn't care whether Iori was scolding him over his performance or over his habits — it made him happy either way, with no preferences whatsoever.

Iori knew that Riku cared for him more than anyone — it was obvious in the things he blurted to him shamelessly, whether it was naivety or truth; in the things he did and in the way he looked — and yet Iori didn't know what he himself felt.

The two of them chatted leisurely as they walked to the bus (as leisurely as they could when they bickered pointlessly, but neither of them cared too much about holding a civil conversation at that point); about their upcoming live, about work, about their fellow members. Eventually, their conversation led right back to the fireworks — about what kinds of things would be there, about how long it would be, and so on.

  "You've really never gone to see fireworks before?" Iori quipped, tone inquisitive but seemingly disinterested. Typical of him.

  "Really," Riku replied with a shake of his head. "Tenn-nii always said the same stuff you did, that it'd be bad for me. We'd always play with sparklers though."

Iori hesitated. "I've accompanied Nii-san to see them before." He looked at the sky, which was turning hues of orange as the sun faded. "I don't remember it well. I preferred to stay inside, but Nii-san was excited about it, so I went with him when he asked me."

Riku stuck his tongue out. "Bro-con."

Iori gave him a fed-up look. "Well, I bet you were happy to do sparklers with your brother, bro-con," he retorted snottily. "Nii-san liked fireworks, so I probably liked them too. Although... It was when I was young, because Nii-san started asking me to do things with him less and less as I got older."

They had reached the bus stop by that time, and quickly after the words had left Iori's mouth they heard the squeak of the bus pulling up to them. Without so much as a glance of acknowledgement to each other, the two stood up from the bench together and stepped onto the bus. The driver paid no real mind to them, but nevertheless Iori took hold of Riku's upper arm and led him along the bus's walkway, which was scattered with people. "Oi!" Riku yelled in surprise, flinching away from his grasp, but Iori covered his mouth quickly before he could say anything more.

  "Don't cause a scene," he hissed quietly, and with a grumpy face Riku begrudgingly went silent and allowed Iori to drag him down the aisle. As if rewarding Riku for his obedience, Iori let his hand fall from Riku's mouth. Towards the back, they each took a seat, all while avidly avoiding the icy stares of passengers around them. Once the bus began its chug to the park, Iori whispered something discreetly to Riku once more. "Nanase-san. There are Ainana fans towards the middle of the bus, so please do not call attention to us."

Riku blinked in surprise, and gasped. "I didn't even notice them...! As expected of Iori —" Iori cupped his hand over Riku's mouth again, and glared with a gaze radiating exasperation.

  "I am convinced that you do not understand Japanese." Riku struggled as Iori scolded him, and the latter let go of the former's face... again. "Are you so dense that you think shouting my name in a bus full of fans is a good idea?"

  "But they're our fans! We should greet th — mmphf—! Oi, cut it out!"

  "Only when you stop saying unintelligent things."

  "It's not! You're so cold, Io — err, ah..."

  "Exactly my point."

  "But it's cute sometimes," Riku grinned innocently.

Iori, as was common in extremely flustering situations involving Riku in particular, physically felt his face grow redder as he turned vehemently away from Riku. A few people were staring at them or glancing over discreetly now, which was precisely what Iori was aiming to avoid. Murmurs and whispers began hitting Iori's ears. He and Riku exchanged nervous glances.

  "That IDOLiSH7's Iori Izumi, isn't it...?"

  "Hey, those two look really familiar..."

  "Iori-kun and Riku-kun are out together? That's so cute!"

  "That's their center, too, right?"

  "Ohh, I've seen them on TV before! They have a TV program with some idol group, yeah?"

  "I wonder what they're doing! They have matching face masks, so cute~! Let's go talk to them...!"

Iori managed one last glare at Riku as if trying to communicate something to him — "Yes, this is your fault" — before the flood of curious fans came to inch towards the two members of IDOLiSH7 and Fly Away. Well, it was more like two or three actual fans, and the others were glancing over amusedly to witness a celebrity appearance, but regardless it was chaotic when knowing that if the situation got out of hand after they left the bus, they wouldn't be able to move freely for the rest of the night. One girl around fifteen years old had pins of Riku covering her backpack, while her friend beside her donned nothing but a few Tamaki-themed charms attached to her cellphone that, regrettably, she was pulling out to snap a picture with.

  "Riku-kun, I'm a huge fan of yours!" the first girl exclaimed. "Where are you going with Iori-kun? Are you hanging out?"

Riku could do nothing but nervously laugh before Iori cut into the questionnaire. "I sincerely apologize, but we're currently attending to serious matters and it would be greatly appreciated if you could refrain from questions for the time being. And pictures," he added sending a glance towards the girl who had taken a photo already. He bowed politely. "Please excuse us. Thank you for supporting IDOLiSH7."

The girls looked taken aback, but they nodded politely and stepped away from Iori and Riku. Iori kept his head bowed. "We apologize again." After a moment of strained silence in the bus, save for the murmurs of curiosity around them, there was a mechanical ring and the bus's driver yelled something from the front of the bus. Iori blinked. "Let's go, Nanase-san," he insisted, and once more grabbed Riku's arm to take him to the front of the bus.

"This isn't our stop, though—?!" Riku sputtered as Iori towed him along. "Iori!" Once they had stepped through the doors and the bus pulled away from them, Riku ripped himself away from his grip in protest. "Seriously, what's with you?"

Iori tried to look away from him. "Stop complaining. Is it too hard a task for you to walk an extra block?"

"No..."

"Then endure it. Unless you'd like more of your fans following us everywhere we go."

"It's not that, you're just grabbing onto me all the time! Annoying!"

A brief silence followed Riku's outburst; he pensively listened to the sound of their footsteps walking down the cement path. "Iori's pretty sweet when he wants to be, huh?" he sneered suddenly as he stared down Iori's evasive expression, referring to Iori's method of dealing with the fans on the bus.

"I doubt you could do it," Iori retorted, although he bit back a remark about being perceived as... sweet.

"I could too...!"

"I didn't see you doing anything on the bus."

"You were the one who interrupted me!"

They continued making conversation in this manner until they arrived at the planned park after what seemed like ages. When it was in sight, Riku perked up.

"Iori! Look! We're here!" he exclaimed breathlessly, and this time he was the one to grab Iori's hand to pull him along. He squeezed it excitedly, and his honest eyes glittered like the fireworks that were beginning to pop in vibrant colors among the royally twilight sky above them. "It looks like the fireworks are starting, hurry, hurry!"

There. It was at meaningless moments like these that Iori always, without fail, felt that familiar tugging in his chest. Moments in which Riku was pulling him along, earnest as always, eyes on him, and smiling. Iori resisted the urge to smile back at him, even though that's what the tugging in his chest seemed to be telling him to do. If he had to give the metal hook that was firmly fastened to his heart a name, then Iori realized, gravely, that it would have to be love. His older brother's words had been calmly shut out before, but now, they flashed before Iori's eyes violently, and he heard them ring true as if they were born anew.

The park was quite empty towards the entrance; it seemed like all viewers had taken a trip to the other side for a better view. All the better for Iori and Riku, for it meant that they could have little fear of their location's compromise. But Iori knew that even if the entire park was packed with people, it wouldn't stop him from looking at Riku the way he was looking at him right now — through the lens of dumb, mindless love, and allowing himself to be pulled by the hand towards the grass beside a park bench. Vaguely, Iori noticed that Riku pulled his mask up. When had he pushed it down?

He supposed all it took was one more simple and silent push like this; something to provoke his mind to sync with his emotions — it was still an alien concept to Iori, to want something that he couldn't reach out and effortlessly take, or even try to work towards, but it was now a reality. He barely comprehended what words were flowing out of Riku's mouth; they were directed towards him, he knew it was true, and yet the only fleeting thoughts floating in his mind were Ah... His voice is nice, or His eyes are on me, and yet I don't know what I should tell them. Some emotion flashed in Riku's expression, and his mouth closed, but he seemed content. Slowly, the added warmth that was Riku's hand left Iori's own hand, and his hand dropped to his side. Riku used his to point at the sky.

"Iori, look at that one!" There was delight in his tone, and if he was trying to disguise it, it wasn't working. Iori's eyes did follow where Riku's outstretched hand led him — to the sky. The two of them had laid down on the grass, perhaps without Iori having realized it fully. He also noticed the grass felt cool on his skin, as if he was becoming hyperaware of his surroundings again. But the sky; it was bursting with color, and it was loud and awe-inspiring. It was so... vibrant, and once more Iori couldn't help but think of how Riku and IDOLiSH7 had truly and utterly flipped his life around. Why had he come here tonight, with Riku? It wasn't out of any obligations; it wasn't to make anyone happy except himself. He gazed upon these colors now — with Riku laying beside him — because it was what he wanted to do. Because he now had these wonderful friends, and because Riku had stolen his attention away.

Because he couldn't take his eyes off of Riku, with his captivating voice and earnest philosophies and the way he made Iori want to see him succeed, to smile — all of these things in succession, hitting Iori one after another. There was a long but soft silence. Iori's eyes were focused still on the canvas that was the dark blue sky peeking through the sparse trees above them, but he sensed Riku's presence close beside him; it drew nearer, even, and he felt Riku's head come to gently rest on his shoulder. "Why'd you come," Riku started, his voice hesitant, "if you've seen them before?"

Iori offered a mere smile. "What about you? I know you didn't really come because you've never seen them before, either," he murmured in response, uncharacteristically gentle. "You're really not a good actor, you know that?"

Riku shifted a little, shyly. "I really wanted to do this with you, Iori, so... I'm really happy." Iori could almost feel him smile without even seeing it. "What you said, it actually reminded me of IDOLiSH7's first summer together. Remember? You promised you wouldn't cry, but you've cried plenty of times since then. You're really a crybaby, huh?"

"I guess I am." Iori had never cried before that first year of work.

Riku went quiet for a few moments, and Iori closed his eyes just to allow the booms of the fireworks reverberate in his ears. After the moment had ended, Riku shifted again so that he was laying on his side, facing Iori as his eyes twinkled sincerely. Iori opened his eyes to admire them. "Iori, I really like fireworks. I'm glad I got to see them." His face was completely serious, and yet Iori couldn't help but smile again, his demeanor pleasant, and his heart warm.

"We should tell Ousaka-san to come here. I have the impression this feeling would translate well into song."

"'This feeling', huh?" Riku grinned. "So even Iori can feel nice, fluttery things?"

Iori's smile fell. "... Nanase-san, let's keep IDOLiSH7 going forever."

"Ehh, where did that come from?! Of course!"

"Good." Iori tipped his head away from Riku again. "That's all I need. Keep making strides as IDOLiSH7's center. Keep everyone captivated. Keep singing, as our greatest weapon. We'll remain at the top."

"You're so serious, Iori~" Riku sang nervously. "It's always 'what you need', and never 'what you want'."

Iori felt him tense up beside him, but Riku went on, his voice wavering — Iori couldn't put his finger on why, but dread flooded his chest. Iori tore his eyes from the colors in the sky and focused on Riku's face, everything about it telling him that Riku was extremely anxious; but he also seemed happy, in a strange sort of way.

"Iori... When we're together, I'm always really happy. You've helped me through so many things, and... and I never could have come close to where we are now without you helping me out all the time. And... And you piss me off a lot, but like, it sounds weird, but I like having a person like that around 'cause it feels special."

Iori smiled mischievously, his heart hammering in his chest all the while. "I know."

"Shut up! I'm being nice, so don't make fun of me!" Riku was reddening from embarrassment, but he swallowed his shyness in order to continue what he was saying. "Iori, you'd believe in me even if no one else would, wouldn't you?"

"Of course," he responded still smiling, as if he knew where Riku was going with his speech. "Even if the whole world turns on Nanase-san, I know I can put my trust in you."

"Iori's really kind," Riku beamed; clearly he was satisfied with Iori's answer. "You never told me to quit, or told me it was impossible for me, or thought any less of me when you found out about my asthma. So... I'm really, really, really grateful, Iori! Really!" — he paused — "That's why... I don't just want to stay with IDOLiSH7 forever. I wanna stay with you forever."

Iori took a breath in.

"I... I really, really like you, Iori. I have for a long time," Riku concluded, staring intently into Iori's eyes with a smile plastered on his face. He laughed sheepishly after a short lapse of mute silence. "That was super embarrassing."

Iori couldn't move his mouth — his body had become rigid, but it couldn't have been from shock; because somehow he had known, deep inside, that it was possible. That was perhaps the reason why his chest had fluttered so, when during his realization of adoration he should have been struck with an uneasiness. It was entirely possible that he had known the whole time, but the notion had been buried deep or pushed fervently away. But Iori stood frozen with an emotion squeezing his chest that refused to lessen its iron grip.

I've been burdening you with this for that long? his voice wanted to blurt, but fell on deaf ears. "For a long time" — how long does that mean? How is it that you've known for so much longer than I have? Why didn't I notice sooner? When you could have been spared so much pain?

Riku stared for a few seconds until something seemed to hit him, and he inched away from Iori as he flippantly laughed. "Aha, that was probably a weird thing to say, huh? If you don't think of me that wa—"

Iori finally mentally shook himself, and his voice came flooding out before he could think of anything to say. "Nanase-san, how long have you known about this?" was what came sputtering out from between his lips.

Riku bashfully looked down to the grass he was laying on. "Mitsuki brought it up to me about a year ago, but I dunno how long I've —!"

Before Iori knew it, he had leaned forwards, and his arms had wrapped themselves around Riku's tensed body, which relaxed upon comprehending that it was Iori, the person that had supported him so much and had became such a vital piece in the puzzle of his life. Once more, words tumbled out of Iori's mouth clumsily, as he awkwardly remained clinging to Riku tightly. "Sorry," was all he could manage, "that I ever made you doubt me."

"Iori..." murmured Riku in a subdued yet surprised manner, inaudible over the colors bursting far above their heads. He was quiet for a brief lapse of time, having a moment of realization in the comforting warmth of Iori's body, and soon tearfully giggled. "... It's okay. Don't start crying, okay?"

Riku himself, though, felt a wet substance falling down his cheeks all too suddenly. He tried wiping the tears off the smile on his face all while keeping his tight, unchanging grip on Iori's back — and he laughed again. "Don't start... crying... Ah..."

"Look who the crybaby is now," Iori quipped, voice gentle and affectionate. He felt Riku breathe in and out, methodically, trying to alleviate the nerves that were still making his body shake. One hand of his left Riku's back and stroked the back of Riku's head soothingly. Riku's breathing calmed.

"Shut up...!" Riku giggled between his muted sobs. "I'm just... really happy..."

"Nanase-san, you're really, really cute."

By the time they let go of each other, the fireworks had stopped. Riku's clutch on the back of Iori's shirt loosened, and softly they pulled away from one another. A hush overcame them — a comfortable one — and their faces remained only a short distance away from the other. They both blinked, and the hook in Iori's chest tugged on something. His heart beat quickly.

  "No one's around," stated Riku.

  "You're not wrong," Iori replied, feeling Riku's breath on his face.

Riku pulled down his face mask, sighing. "Can't you take a hint," he clicked his tongue and muttered, before his finger looped around the string of Iori's own mask and tugged it down. He leaned over, and his face met Iori's in a brief but meaningful manner — lingered for only just long enough so that Iori could feel Riku's soft lips touching his, but ceased just after he had begun to reciprocate the touch. Iori found himself surprised by how pleasant it was; it just felt right, and a part of himself was absolutely sure that he wanted more of it. They broke apart. Riku pulled his mask up, and did the same for Iori.

  "That was dangerous," Iori managed after a stunned and flustered silence. "You couldn't have been sure that more fans weren't watching." Riku just smiled, his eyes saying much more than his words could.

  "I'll give you plenty of kisses later," Riku said, glowing. "Let's go home, 'kay?"

Iori's heart swelled.

There's so much I want to say to him. There's so much I need him to know.

But he nodded, and together they walked to their bus stop, walking quickly so that no arriving crowd would see how their hands were drifting towards each other. 

—

It was 10:59pm when Iori and Riku arrived at the dorms. As the door was opened, the first thing Iori set his eyes on was MEZZO" sleeping atop each other on the couch, and the TV was still faintly playing something. He gestured Riku to the duo, and together they snuck past them on their tiptoes.

At the parting place between his and Riku's rooms, Iori stopped and faced Riku. "So was that hangout just an excuse to confess? You're pretty cheap, Nanase-san."

  "Be quiet...! It was your brother's idea, anyway!" Riku whisper-yelled, tearing the mask off his face. "Even if it was cheap, I know you still liked it, right?"

A soft smile. "I did. I don't think I'll be forgetting it."

  "You've been sappy tonight, Iori. You're feeling okay, right?"

  "... Would you rather me tell you about all the ways you've potentially compromised our privacy and/or safety in these past four hours?"

  "I like this Iori, too!"

Iori looked at the ground, smile appearing again in response to Riku's cute reaction. "I see." Pause. "Nanase-san, you and your voice have bent my fate in ways you can't even begin to understand. So I would also like to thank you properly for it. Thank you very much."

Instead of saying something in response, Riku gave Iori another hug, and held tight. As he responded, Iori stroked Riku's hair once more. "I love your voice." Iori's hand held Riku's head as if it were a precious treasure, and Riku pecked his cheek. "More than anything else."

They said their goodnights and their farewells, and Iori fell into his bed with his heart light and mind free. And his heart, once nothing but gray and white monotone, glowed with colors he had never felt before. He drifted off to sleep; the colors stayed.

—