Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Eijun trotted down the stairs, adjusting his guitar case as he went, stabilizing it against his backpack. He was headed to his favorite place to play, a corridor connecting two train lines, one where there were plenty of passers-by who had spare change to throw into an open case.

Additionally, the acoustics were wonderful and it wasn’t on a train platform where those who weren’t interested would be annoyed. Hitting the bottom of the stairs, he paused, surprised by the sound of a violin lilting through the air. Someone was in his spot.

Stalking down the hallway, a frown on his face, he stopped when he saw the other busker. Case open, fingers flying over the neck of the violin as he played Vivaldi for the passing commuters. He’d accumulated some money, but it was clear to Eijun that he’d not been there long. He stopped in front of the musician and glared, waiting for him to finish his song.

The last notes of the music faded and the boy lowered his instrument, eyeing Eijun carefully through black frames.

“Can I help you?”

“This is my spot!” Eijun exclaimed, definitely not noticing the gleaming amber eyes of his adversary. “Find somewhere else to play!”

“It is?” The interloper made a show of looking around. “I don’t see your name anywhere.”

“I play here every day, dammit,” Eijun argued.

The stranger chuckled. “It’s a good spot, thanks for sharing!”

“I didn’t say you could have it!” Eijun fumed.

“What do you want? Want me to leave so you can take it over? That’s hardly fair.” Amber eyes glittered at him.

Eijun sighed, his innate sense of fair play kicking in. “No, you’re right.” He started to turn away. “I’ll find somewhere else.”

“Wait! Where are you going?”

“To find somewhere else to play.”

“Hang on a sec.” Eijun felt a hand on his arm. “Maybe we can work something out.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re playing guitar, right? What kind?”

“Huh?”

“Is it classical, acoustic, electric, what?”

“Oh! Electric,” Eijun said.

The violinist nodded. “Okay, we can work with that. Set up, let’s see what we can do.”

“What are you thinking?” Eijun slung off his guitar case and pulled his mini amp from his backpack, setting up the unit efficiently.

“Well, it depends on how much you suck.”

“I don’t suck!” Eijun squawked, offended. “People love my playing!”

“Yes, yes. Okay, you’re all set up?”

Eijun adjusted the speaker and checked his tuning. “Yeah, I think I’m good.”

“Your D-string is off a bit.” He ran his bow across the second string, and Eijun checked. Wincing, he made the adjustments and checked his others.

“Okay, what genre do you usually play?”

Eijun ran his fingers down the fretboard, thinking. “Classic rock, some grunge and punk. Stuff everyone will recognize.”

“Gotcha. Do you know this?" The corner of his mouth lifted as he bowed two chords, and Eijun grinned.

“Of course I do, but how do you?”

“Everyone wants to be a rock star at some point, kid.”

“Eijun. And I’m not a kid.”

“What?”

“My name’s Eijun and I’m sixteen.”

“Oh! I’m Kazuya and you’re sixteen? Really? You don’t look it.”

“You don’t look old, either! How old are you, ancient one?”

“Seventeen.”

“Pffffffftt. Okay.” Eijun grinned. “How do you want to do this?”

“Let me play the rhythm at first, you play lead, and I’ll play the vocal line. Make sense?”

“Yeah, let’s give it a try.”

Kazuya adjusted his violin and started to play, rhythmic repetitions of the two chords he’d played earlier, and after four repetitions, Eijun jumped in with the lead. When they hit the vocals, Kazuya switched effortlessly to the melody and Eijun backed him up. The crowds slowed and stopped to listen to the unusual arrangement of a very familiar song. As they finished, there was applause and money thrown into the open cases, but neither boy was paying much attention, they were too busy smiling at each other.

“You’re not bad, brat. A little rough, but it’s workable.” Kazuya nodded thanks at the little boy who dropped a bill in the case.

Eijun huffed out a breath. “Thanks, I guess. That was a lot of fun, though. I never imagined ‘Purple Haze’ with violin. I always picture ‘Devil Went Down to Georgia’ when I think of violins and rock. Or Dave Matthews.”

“Oh, well, allow me to expand your mind, then.” Kazuya grinned.

“Maybe it should be my turn?” Eijun suggested with an arched eyebrow.

“Ooooo! What do you suggest?”

Eijun grinned and plucked a familiar run on his lower strings and Kazuya’s eyes widened.

“Really?”

“Yeah, everyone wants to learn the classics at some point, Kazuya,” Eijun replied with a smirk.

“Don’t get cocky,” Kazuya warned. “But let’s try it. I doubt you know it as well as I do, so play what you know and I’ll work around it.”

“Sounds good.”

Eijun switched his guitar volume back up and ran through the opening notes again. As he headed into the next section, Kazuya kept his word and wove his way through the melody and harmonies, producing a serviceable, if unusual, version of ‘Hall of the Mountain King’.

They were quite successful, if the reaction of the crowd was to be believed.

Eijun’s eyes widened at the applause and the number of people who stopped to drop some money in their cases. He was watching the crowd, jumping when he felt an arm slung over his shoulders.

“I’d say that’s a pretty good haul,” Kazuya spoke in his ear. “What do you say we do this together for real, partner?”

Eijun watched curiously as Kazuya counted and then divided up the money they’d collected in the last couple of hours, sliding his half into his pocket and handing Eijun a stack.

“Twenty-one bucks each,” he said with a grin. “Not too bad for two hours of playing without having practiced together.”

“More than I’ve made on my own,” Eijun agreed with a nod, zipping up his guitar case. “That was a lot of fun.”

Kazuya slung his violin case over his back. “It was.” He glanced at Eijun out of the corner of his eye. “Are you in a hurry to get home? I’ll buy you a cup of coffee.”

“Not really,” Eijun said. “I’d like to talk to you—I was hoping we could do this again,” he said, falling into step with Kazuya.

“Great, me too.” Kazuya motioned down the hallway. “There’s a good diner a few blocks down Seventh.”

“The Hollywood?”

“Yeah, you know it?”

“I’ve passed by it a few times, yeah,” Eijun admitted. “I’ve never been in it, though.”

“I live not too far from here; it’s one of my favorite places.” Kazuya led him up the dingy stairway and they wove their way through the crowds on the sidewalk, down a few blocks to the diner. Entering the door, Kazuya headed to the host stand.

“Heya, Kazuya. How’s things?” the lady behind the counter asked.

“Good thanks, Dolly,” Kazuya said. “How’s the diner tonight?”

“Normal, I guess. At least as normal as this place gets.” She pulled out a couple of menus. “Who’s this?” she asked, nodding to Eijun.

“Eijun Sawamura,” Eijun introduced himself.

“He’s a friend.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dolly said. “Any friend of Kazuya’s is welcome here.”

“Thank you,” Eijun said.

“Your favorite booth is open,” Dolly said. “And there’s room for your bags there, too.” She handed over the menus. “I’ll be over in a few, go get settled.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Kazuya said with a smirk.

“You know, you’re not too old to spank,” Dolly said.

“Aww, Dolly, you say the sweetest things,” Kazuya said, heading towards the booth in the corner.

“Brat,” Eijun heard her mutter, affection clear in her voice.

 Kazuya threw a quick “Thank you!” over his shoulder, along with a smirk.

“Not a compliment,” she said, exchanging a smile with Kazuya.

They slid onto the red vinyl banquettes, putting their instruments on the inside before seating themselves.

Dolly came over after they were settled. “Need a minute? Or do you know what you want?”

“I’ll have an iced coffee and a pile of french fries. Ranch dressing on the side. Enough for both of us please,” Kazuya said.

“Coke for me,” Eijun said.

“Coke, iced coffee, and french fries,” Dolly repeated to them. “Be right back with the drinks.” She stepped away, headed to the kitchen.

“So, Eijun,” Kazuya said. “Tell me a little about yourself. Other than being younger than me and passable on guitar, I know nothing.”

Eijun shrugged. “There’s not a lot to tell. I’m a junior, I go to GW. What more do you want to know?”

“You’re a junior? I thought you were sixteen.”

“I’ll be seventeen in May, why?”

“I’m a junior too; my birthday is in November, though,” Kazuya sat back as Dolly deposited their drinks on the table.

“So we’re in the same grade?” Eijun laughed. “No seniority for you, then.”

“Maybe not,” Kazuya agreed. “I’m a junior at LaGuardia.”

“The ‘Fame’ school?” Eijun’s eyes widened.

“Yeah, studying music.”

“That’s amazing, you must be super talented.”

“Son of Japanese-Americans. Accent on Japanese. I had few choices in that, believe me.”

Eijun shrugged, “Still, you must be good. Parental expectations won’t get you through the doors there.”

“True enough,” Kazuya said. “It wasn’t my first choice, but my parents didn’t think baseball was an acceptable future for their only child.” Dolly came back to the table to deposit a pile of french fries in the middle, and a bowl with ranch dressing on the side. “Thanks, Dolly, you’re the best.”

“You’re welcome, you boys look like you could eat a whole potato farm,” she said, ruffling his hair.

“I know I could, so thank you, Miss Dolly,” Eijun said with a grin.

“Oh, he’s cute. Bring him back anytime, Kazuya,” she said with an answering grin. “Or you can come in yourself, you’re always welcome.”

“Thanks! I will,” Eijun answered and she rapped him gently on the head with her pad before turning back to the other tables.

Kazuya slid the bowl of dressing off its plate and poured some ketchup on it. He picked up the shaker of salt and looked across the table. “Salt?”

“Yes, please,” Eijun said. “Can you oversalt french fries?”

“Not in my opinion,” Kazuya said, sprinkling a good bit on the fries. “Help yourself.”

Eijun took a fry before returning to the subject that had caught his attention. “You played baseball?”

“Little league. I was a catcher for a few seasons until my parents found out how much I wanted to pursue it. They’d already decided that I was going to be a concert pianist, so they made me quit.”

“I get the ‘familial expectations’ thing. But mine were baseball related. I’m—I was—a pitcher,” Eijun said. “They thought I’d be the next Eiji Sawamura.”

“Was?”

“Yeah. Last fall I wrecked my elbow and I didn’t recover as well as I’d hoped. I can play some, but not for a long time or too hard, so the professional track is out—I’m on the reserve for the team, but I’m expecting to be off after this summer.” Eijun sighed. “I was the ace, but I overdid it. I’ve done everything they recommended, but it’s too late to fix.”

“That’s...I’m sorry. I know that has to be rough.”

Eijun shrugged. “It is, but that’s life, right?”

“I don’t know if I could be that Zen about it.”

“Oh, I wasn’t. Believe me. But I’ve had the last few months to come to terms with it. The doctors made sure I understood that it wasn’t likely to recover, but I hoped it would.”

“When did you start playing?” Kazuya asked, waving a french fry at the guitar case.

“Seriously? When I was in physio. I wanted to keep my hands in shape, and the doctors said it might help,” Eijun said. “I’ve known how since I was little, though. My father wanted to be a rock star when he was young. That didn’t work out, but he taught me to play. How about you? How long have you been playing?”

“As long as I can remember,” Kazuya said with a slight frown. “I think I started when I was three. Like I said, they’re determined that I’m going to be a concert pianist.”

“Is that what you want to do?”

“Nope. And I’m not going to do it. I love music, but I don’t want to be that,” Kazuya said.

“What do you want to do with it, then?”

“I’d like to play professionally. I can play almost any stringed instrument, although the violin is my favorite. I play the piano, of course, but it’s never been my choice,” he explained. “I want to play with a group or something, I don’t really know yet. But I know I don’t want to be a concert pianist.”

“I get that.” Eijun dipped a fry in the ranch dressing. “You like this stuff?”

“I do,” Kazuya said. “I always liked mayo with my fries, and one day they accidentally brought out ranch. It’s kinda weird, but I like it. And the horrified look on my mother’s face when I order it helps.”

Eijun tasted it gingerly. “It’s not bad. Strange, but not bad.” He dipped another one. “I can see how this could be addicting.”

“I know, right?” Kazuya smirked. They ate for a few minutes before Eijun broke the silence.

“I had fun playing with you; you want to do it again?”

“You think you can keep up with me?” Kazuya snarked.

“What?” Eijun glared at him. “I’ve managed so far.”

“You’re right, you did. And it was fun, plus we made a little money.”

Eijun nodded. “That’s not the main reason I’m doing it, but it’s nice to have. When do you want to get together?”

“Well, it’s spring break, so I don’t have a ton of schoolwork,” Kazuya started, thinking. “And I just broke up with my boyfriend; I have plenty of free time.”

Eijun sat up, blinking. “Did you say boyfriend?”

Kazuya tilted his face up, glasses flashing in the light, eyes flashing with challenge. “Yeah? You have a problem with that?”

“What? No,” Eijun said, shaking his head. “Not at all. I’m just surprised that you’re so open about it, I guess.”

“You think I should hide it?”

“No, not at all,” he repeated. “Like I said, I’m just surprised you’re so open about it.”

“Why shouldn’t I be?”

“No reason, sorry. I’m just...do your parents know?”

“Yeah, but I think they think it’s just a phase that I’m going to grow out of,” Kazuya shrugged. “Seriously, though. Is it that big of a deal?”

“Not really, like I said. You don’t have any issues at school or anything?”

“Performing arts school,” Kazuya deadpanned. “Gay is just a normal Tuesday around there.”

“Yeah, that’s true. There aren’t many openly gay people at GW, it’ll destroy any chance you may have at playing pro sports, and that’s what that school’s about.”

“You’re not wrong about that,” Kazuya said.

“Sorry about the breakup, though. Were you dating long?”

“Not really, Mei and I have been friends for a long time, thought we’d try it. It didn’t work; he’s too much of a drama queen for me. It’s better we stay friends. It was mutual, there’s no pain on either side, but it does free up my break,” Kazuya said.

“I’m still sorry; it sucks even when it’s mutual.”

“A bit, yes. I can use the distraction, I’m glad you came along.”

“You were in my spot, asshole.”

Kazuya raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t see your name on it, did I miss it somehow?”

“No, you know you didn’t. But still, I’ve been playing there for a while now. It has good acoustics and if the people aren’t interested in hearing me, they can just keep walking. It gets boring playing in my room, I want to see people react, find out what works and what doesn’t.”

“Playing down there is a good way to do that. You found a good spot, I’ve busked there quite a few times, it’s perfect, as you said.”

“So, you’re free and I’m free, when do you want to play again? Tomorrow?”

“Eager, aren’t you?” Kazuya laughed at Eijun’s pout. “Yeah, tomorrow sounds good. We should talk about what we’re playing, what you know, and see where we go from there.”

“I know a lot of classic rock, grunge, more modern stuff, too,” Eijun said. “I don’t know a lot of classical music, just a few things.”

“Do you know Trans-Siberian Orchestra?”

“Yeah, I know TSO. My mom takes me to their concerts every year, but they do holiday music, and it’s March?”

“They don’t just do holiday music, they have some albums with classical songs,” Kazuya said, pulling out his phone. “Can I have your number, I’ll text you.”

“Yeah, sure,” Eijun rattled off the number and opened his phone when he heard the text come in. “Got it.”

“They’re a whole orchestra, so we couldn’t sound like them, but it’s an idea of things we can do. Also, I do know a lot of classic rock as well; I’ve been in one of our rock bands for the last few years.”

“You guys have a rock band? At LaGuardia?”

“We have several, one for each year,” Kazuya laughed. “They have bands for everything. If you want to play in it and can get enough members, it’s on.”

“What do you play there?”

“Piano, violin. Sometimes bass if they need it. It depends on the song.”

Eijun sighed. “That sounds like fun, being in a band.”

“It’s work, for a grade,” Kazuya explained. “I like playing, and I do like the music, but that’s not what I want to do forever, either.”

“I get that. I think it would be a blast, kinda like playing on a team, you know?”

“You’re right, it is,” Kazuya agreed. “But I just want to do something different. I don’t quite know what, yet, but I’ll figure it out.”

Eijun nodded. “I’m sure you will.”

“So anyway, it’s not like we’re going to have any time to practice before tomorrow, but give the stuff a listen, wouldja? We can treat the busking as a sort of practice anyway, nobody really cares.”

“Sure thing, I’ll Spotify them on the way home.”

“Where do you live?”

“The Bronx. Kingsbridge. Not too far from the 1 train, which is how I knew about this place. You?”

“I live a few blocks away, on 20th.”

“That is close,” Eijun said, glancing at his phone. “I’d probably better get going, I should be home before nine or Mom’ll send out a search party.” He stood and slid his backpack over his shoulders.

“Yeah, my ‘rents are going to want me to show up. Dinner’s at eight, and I’m expected to be there.” Kazuya pulled out the money he’d earned and dropped it on the table. Following Eijun across the room, he yelled towards the kitchen, “Bye, Dolly. Thanks again, the money’s on the table.”

“It better be,” she said, laughing. “I know where you live, remember.”

“Yes, ma’am, I do,” Kazuya said with a sigh.

“And Eijun, I expect to see you back here, you hear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Eijun answered.

“Good boy. Get home safe, both of you.”

“Good night,” Kazuya said, and they exited the diner.

“I’ll walk with you up to the 18th street stop,” Eijun offered.

“If you want, it’s not far from here,” Kazuya agreed, and they set off.

“So what time do you want to meet tomorrow?” Kazuya asked.

“I dunno? I usually like to be set up by 4:00 at the latest, so I can catch the commuters.”

“Why don’t we do it a little earlier, that way we’ll have time to go over some things and figure out what we’re doing?”

“So, when?”

“How about 3:00? That will give us three or four hours to play.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Eijun agreed. “I’ll text you when I’m getting close, so we can meet up.”

“Alright, then,” Kazuya said, stopping at the corner to wait for the light. “I think this is you, so I’ll see you then.”

“Yup! Goodnight, Kazuya. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Eijun waved at him as he crossed the street.

“Goodnight,” Kazuya said, smiling slightly as he watched his new friend walk away.

 guitar boy: hey, i really like this 1 that sounds like pirates

Me: who’s this?

guitar boy: asshole

guitar boy: u probs have me in ur phone as ‘stupid pitcher’ or something already

Me: oh, it’s you

Me: yeah, that’s a good one based on beethoven's 9th

guitar boy: cool. ill let you go

guitar boy: see you tomorrow

Me: looking forward to it

Chapter Text

Kazuya climbed the steps up to the front door of his family’s brownstone, unlocking the door and stepping inside before locking the door behind himself. His mind was racing with ideas for collaborations, excited to have a new challenge. Kicking off his shoes, he lined them up neatly next to his mother’s. Frowning a little, he listened carefully and heard banging coming from the kitchen. She was home early, which meant she’d expect to have a family dinner. He sighed, that hadn’t been his plan for the evening and he really didn’t want to have to sit at the table and listen to his parents talk shop—or worse, discuss his future—for an hour.  

“Kazuya, is that you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, heading towards the stairs to his room.

“Get your stuff put away and then come on down. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he repeated, before going up. His room was on the second floor, in the front of the building. There were two other bedrooms on this floor that were unoccupied and larger than the one he lived in, but he’d chosen this one for the view and the distance from his parents. Those other rooms were being used as a library and a music practice room, somewhere he could play without disturbing his parents if they were downstairs. They’d had it soundproofed when he got older and they no longer felt the need to monitor his practices; it held all his electric instruments as well as most of his acoustic strings. Any and all piano practice was expected to be done downstairs, on the grand piano in the parlor.

Opening his door, he set his violin case in the corner and fell backward onto his bed, staring out the window at the late spring evening. His windows were closed—even though he’d left them open when he’d gone out earlier—and he sighed, rising to his feet and padding over to slide them open. Sitting on the window seat below the bay window, he pulled up his knees and allowed himself time to relax, to clear his mind and try to prepare for the evening ahead.

Eijun trotted down the stairs from the train, running his hand over the well-worn railing and dodging the iffy spot in the fifth step down. Seeing an elderly woman dragging a shopping cart full of groceries up the stairs, he hurried down towards her. “Can I help you, ma’am?”

“Thank you, young man,” she said. “These old bones don’t move as well as they used to.”

“It’s not a problem, I’m glad to help.” Eijun lifted the cart and carried it to the top of the flight. “Are you okay from here?”

“Yes, I’m good. My son is meeting me at my stop,” she said.

“That’s good. Have a good night!”

“You too, be careful. Don’t get involved with the hooligans in the streets,” she counseled him.

“I won’t, thank you!” He headed back down the stairs and turned down the road towards home.

Waiting at the light to cross Broadway, he noticed that the produce vendor across the street had strawberries, and so he stopped by for a box before continuing up the hill towards his house. His mother loved strawberries, and these were the first of the season, so he knew she’d appreciate them. Maybe even share—or if she was feeling really generous, bake something with them. Images of strawberry pies dancing in his head, he turned down his street and headed toward the apartment building in the middle of the block.

He pulled his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the front door, heading through the lobby and to the elevator. Pushing the call button, he waited for it to arrive, humming under his breath. After it came, he pressed the button for the sixth floor, and breathing as shallowly as he could to minimize the smell of dogs that were not gotten outside quite as quickly as they should be, he rode up to his floor.

Letting himself into his apartment, he was met with the smell of something cooking—probably a quick stir-fry or curry—that his mother had thrown together when she got home from work that evening. She tended to make things that were easily reheatable, they never knew when either his father or grandfather would be able to come home.

“Eijun?”

“Yeah, Ma. It’s me,” he said, following her voice into the kitchen. She was stirring something at the stove—it looked like curry, and the rice cooker was out and on the counter. He walked over and kissed her cheek, looking down into the pot. “Curry?”

“Yeah, it’s almost done.”

“Smells great!” he said with a grin. “Let me put my stuff away and then I’ll come keep you company.”

“I’d like that,” his mom—Chika Sawamura—said, so he headed to his room to drop his backpack and guitar before returning to the kitchen with the bag of strawberries.

“I bought you something,” he said, handing over the bag.

She took it with an admonishing look. “Eijun, you don’t have to—” she started, before opening the bag. “Oh! Strawberries!” she smiled at him. “Thank you, we’ll have these for dessert.”

“I know I don’t, I want to,” he said with a soft smile. “I don’t have any other beautiful girls to spend my hard earned pay on.”

“Well…,” she said. “I’m hardly beautiful, that’s one thing. The other thing—wouldn’t you rather be spending your hard earned cash on a handsome boy?” She watched with interest as a slow blush spread across Eijun’s face.

“Mom!” Eijun whined, putting his face in his hands. “That’s—I don’t have one of those either,” he sputtered out.

“Okay then,” she said, filing the look in the back of her mind as she considered the possibilities. She knew Eijun, knew he’d be unable to keep whatever he was feeling a secret for long. She could wait.

“Moving rapidly along…” Eijun said. “How was your day?”

“It was fine, the usual. Some patients left, others came, nothing too bad.” His mother was a nurse and worked in the pediatric ward of the local hospital. It was hard work and long hours, but she loved it. “How did busking go? Did you get scouted by the head of Capitol records?”

“I don’t think that’s even a company anymore,” Eijun laughed. “But no, nobody discovered me.” He grinned as she set a plate of food in front of him. “Thank you, it smells amazing.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, joining him at the table with her own plate. “So how did it go?”

Eijun started to chuckle. “Apparently I lied. Someone did discover me. Or I discovered him, if the truth be told.” He took another bite of his dinner. “This is really good.”

“Thank you. Now start talking, child of mine. What happened?”

“Oh! Yeah. I went down to my usual place, but when I arrived there was a guy there already, playing the violin. I was going to go find somewhere else, but he suggested we play together, and so we did,” Eijun continued to eat, laughing when his mother threatened him with her fork. “Okay, okay. I’ll starve to death so you can get your story, I don’t mind.” He put down his own fork and continued. “It was lots of fun, Mom. We played some strange combinations, things we both know, but we sounded good. And we made more money than I ever did alone.”

“You did? That’s great! Are you going to play together again?”

“Yes, we are,” Eijun said, picking his fork back up. “We’re meeting up all of break, I think. He’s a junior, he goes to LaGuardia.”

“That’s the music school, right? He’s got to be good,” Chika commented.

“He is! But he’s kinda a smartass, you know? Snarky. But he’s nice and knows a lot about music. Did you know TSO does stuff that isn’t Christmas music? We go every year, and I didn’t even know that.”

“Me either!”

“He’s sent me links to a bunch of it. And some other things, too. We’re going to work on them while we’re busking, maybe get even better.” Eijun waved his fork around animatedly.

“Is he cute?”  

“Mom!” Eijun’s face reddened and he frowned at her. “It’s not like that, he’s just a guy I met. A friend.”  

“None of which answers my question,” Chika teased, even more intrigued.

“If you must know, yes. He’s cute,” Eijun grumbled. “But he’s just broken up with someone.”

“Aww, that’s too bad.”

“I just don’t want you pushing me at every guy I meet, okay? It’s not like that.” Eijun dug into his food.

“I get it, I do. I’m just a mom who wants her son to be happy,” Chika apologized.

Eijun sighed, laying his fork back down. “I appreciate that, but between you wanting me to date every guy I meet and Gramps wanting to introduce me to every girl he can so I can ‘get over this phase I’m in’, I’m going to go nuts, you know?”

Chika was immediately repentant. “I’m so sorry, I know. I was just teasing you, but I can see how that would be hard for you. I’ll stop, and I’ll talk to your grandfather about it. I can’t promise he’ll quit altogether, but maybe I can get him to slow down for a while.”

“You think you can? That would be great.”

“I’ll do my best,” she agreed. “So, tell me more about what you guys played.”

Eijun signed internally, knowing she wouldn’t let him go until she’d wrung every detail from him.

Kazuya spoke as soon as he heard the person pick up the phone. “Tell me again why I can’t move in with you?”

“Kyhahahaha! You know your parents wouldn’t let you,” came the answer over the line, accompanied by the sound of a video game in the background. The new Assassin's Creed, if he remembered correctly. “Because my mom would, she loves you. I think she likes you more than me, you sneaky bastard,” he said with little heat.

“I can’t help it if I know how to behave, Moch,” Kazuya protested.

“Again, I say bastard,” his friend, Kuramochi said.

Kazuya smirked, knowing exactly what expression was currently gracing his best friend’s face. “Awww, Mochi, you know you love me.”

“Ewwww. I mean seriously, ewww,” Kuramochi said to Kazuya’s laughter. “So enough about the whole run away and live in Brooklyn fantasy, what’s going on?”

“Family dinner,” he answered, knowing he didn’t have to say a lot more than that.

“Ah, man. I’m sorry. Was this a ‘think about your future’ one or a ‘ignore the child’ one?”

“Let me rephrase. Mother-son dinner. Dad isn’t home yet, he had an emergency surgery this evening.” Kazuya leaned against the wall behind his window seat, watching the street and the people going by under the street lights.

“Ohhh, ouch,” Mochi audibly winced and Kazuya heard the sound of the game cut off. “So it was 'think about your future' without your father to moderate her. What was she on about now?”

“What was she not might be a shorter answer,” Kazuya said. “My bright future as a concert pianist, that I’m throwing away my talent because I play in the subway and oh! Now she’s got a new one. She’s been in contact with her family and friends in Japan and is compiling a list of suitable mates for me. Female ones, of course.”

“Wait, what? Why would she do that?”

“I never told you? Well, get this,” Kazuya took his bottle of water off the ledge and took a drink before continuing. “Since they first immigrated, my family has always married their heirs off to someone from the homeland, to keep the family Japanese. My mother was born in Japan, my grandmother was, too, and all the way back. To my great-great something, who came over here with a bunch of investor’s money and a foolproof way to steal most of it.”

“That’s crazy! They expect you to marry someone they pick out? Dude, you’re gay?”

“They think I’ll get over it. Or grow out of it. Or maybe, I’ll just forget about it and do my duty. I don’t even know anymore.”

“That’s insane,” Mochi said. “She can’t force you to marry any of them, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just another crazy family thing I need to worry about,” Kazuya said, banging his head against the wall behind himself.

“Well, if nothing else you can put them off until you’re out of school.”

“High School at least. Maybe college, I don’t know.”

“If there’s a way, you’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah. I’ll worry about it later.”

“How did busking go? You said you were going to try out a new place?”

Kazuya chuckled. “It went...surprisingly well. I had only been there for like fifteen minutes or so when this kid came trotting up, telling me I was in his spot.”

“What? He can’t stake out a spot.”

“That’s what I told him, and he was going to leave and find another place to play, but I...I didn’t want him to go, so I asked him to play with me.”

“Is he hot?” Mochi asked, and Kazuya could see his eyes narrowed in suspicion, even over the phone.

“What?”

“You heard me. Is he hot? You wouldn’t do something like that out of the goodness of your heart, there has to be an ulterior motive.”

“You wound me, I have goodness in my heart. Somewhere,” Kazuya objected. “But if you must know, yes. He’s hot.”

Mochi cawed in triumph. “I knew it!”

“But there are a couple of things. First of all, I’m pretty sure he’s straight.”

“He told you?”

“No, but when I told him about Mei he acted shocked.”

“Bigot?”

“Not at all. I really think he was surprised that I admitted to it.”

“That’s a strange reaction.”

“Honestly? I thought so too, but when I called him on it he seemed to be genuinely surprised. He goes to GW, and you know how straight-laced those sports schools can be. Have to be.”

Mochi hummed an agreement. “You’re not wrong, LaGuardia is pretty open about things.”

“Right,” Kazuya affirmed. “The other argument in my defense is that I did buy him a drink afterward. And we’re playing again tomorrow.”

“There must be something more than good looks there, then. You don’t hang around anyone who bores you. What does he play?” Kazuya heard the video game start up again and mentally sighed in relief, knowing Kuramochi wouldn’t be as focused on what he was saying.

“Guitar. He’s not bad, considering he just started playing last year.” Kazuya stood and stretched, walking over to his violin case and opening it, preparing to clean and check it over. “All your classic rock stuff came in handy, I was able to play several songs with him.”

“That’s pretty cool. You had your violin?”

“Yeah. We played a really great version of Purple Haze, you’d have loved it.” He wiped down the body of his violin, cleaning off the extra rosin. “I sent him a bunch of TSO stuff, we’ll see what happens.”

“You’re meeting again tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure what we’re going to do, but it was a good time today. I hope tomorrow’s the same.”

“I think it—oh, crap!” Kazuya heard squealing and the sounds of dying coming through the phone. “Dammit, what is up with this boar?”

“What’s going on?”

“There’s a boar you have to kill, but it’s impossible. I keep getting killed instead,” Kuramochi said. “Listen, Kaz, I’m going to let you go, I need to deal with this. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? I want to know everything that happens, in detail. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” Kazuya snarked. “I’ll remember everything for your voyeuristic enjoyment.”

“Asshole,” Kuramochi said and then hung up.

Kazuya snorted out a laugh and threw his phone on the bed, sitting beside it with his violin in his hand.

Eijun was in his room, playing through the tabs he’d found for the TSO songs Kazuya had sent, trying to get familiar with them when there was a knock on the door. Stopping what he was doing, he turned his chair to face the door. “Come in.”

His grandfather opened the door and stepped inside. “Hey, kiddo.”

“Hi, Gramps,” Eijun said warily.

“Can I come in?” Eitoku Sawamura asked, wincing a little at the caution he heard in his grandson’s voice.

“Of course, please do,” Eijun said, motioning at the bed. Eitoku entered the room and sat.

“Listen, Eijun. I was talking to that woman your father married and she said I’ve been hard on you, always trying to get you to meet girls and stuff.” He slanted an eyebrow at Eijun. “I didn’t believe her, but the look on your face when I opened the door makes me believe otherwise.” Eijun slid his guitar off his lap and leaned it against the wall beside his desk, turning his chair to face his grandfather completely. “I’m sorry, kiddo. I never meant to make you feel bad or anything, it’s just…,” he trailed off. “Nothing. It’s just nothing.”

“Gramps, I understand,” Eijun said, moving from his chair to the bed. “But you have to know that I’ve tried, honestly. This isn’t some whim. Think about it this way, until six months ago, what was my whole future?” His grandfather shifted his attention to his face, listening for what Eijun thought was the first time in the year since he’d come out to his family. “Baseball, right? I was going to pitch until I couldn’t do it anymore. Now, how many openly gay baseball players are there?”

“None, that was why I was trying—”

“None.” Eijun interrupted him gently. “Don’t you think I know that? Do you honestly think I’d choose to be this way, knowing what I wanted to do? There’s a reason I’m only out to you and a few of my friends.”

“I understand, I do. I didn’t realize trying to help was actually hurting, and I’m sorry. I love you, Ei, I have since you were born and this hasn’t changed that. Never doubt that, please. You’re still you, you haven’t become anyone different, I just have to adjust my view,” he said, laying a hand on his grandson’s shoulder. “If you can forgive an old man, I’d appreciate it.”

“Of course, Gramps,” he said, diving in for a hug, the first real one he’d gotten from his grandfather in a long time. “I love you too, and I’m sorry if I’m a disappointment.”

“You’re not. I don’t ever want to hear you saying that about yourself again, you hear me? I will smack you, don’t think I won’t.”

Eijun sniffled softly as he felt him drop a soft kiss on his head. “I know you will.”

Patting him gently on the back, Eitoku let him sit up, scooting back a little. “Now, your mom says you had a bit of an adventure with your guitar today. Do you mind telling me about it?”

Eijun smiled widely and started to talk.

Me: i found the tabs for a lot of those songs you sent, im looking at them now 

Kazuya the smartass: Really? I expect you to have them all memorized by tomorrow. *snerk*

Me: good to know i already can predict your smartassery  

Kazuya the smartass: I live to serve.

Me: seriously, do you have any actual friends? if so, how?

Kazuya the smartass: My good looks and charming personality?

Me: yeah, right

Me: you’ve got them all fooled

Kazuya the smartass: Thank you!

Me: not a compliment

Kazuya the smartass: Seriously, good luck with the tabs!

Me: thanks!

Me: that didn’t hurt, did it?

Kazuya the smartass: Now who’s the smartass?

Me: you

Kazuya the smartass: *shrug* Fair enough.

Kazuya the smartass: Goodnight, Eijun.

Me: see you tomorrow!

In two beds in two rooms in two very different parts of the city, two boys went to sleep with smiles on their faces and anticipation of the next day in their hearts.

Chapter Text

guitar boy: https://open.spotify.com/user/carpeliberum/playlist/38iW2RUImO28rwa5zcEt56?si=5M5hVH-zRuWnAqp-bFyzXQ

me: *eyes*

me: Why are you sending me viruses at 8 am?

guitar boy: not a virus

me: porn?

guitar boy: no! asshole, it’s a link to spotify, can’t u read?

guitar boy: i made us a playlist and put the songs u sent and the ones we did and some other ones i think we could do on it

guitar boy: u can add songs if u want to

me: You’re that eager to play with me? Already making mixtapes? I’m flattered.

guitar boy: ur a jerk, never mind.

me: Kidding!! I’ll take a look when I can, but if it’s some stupid songs I’m going to kick your butt.

guitar boy: u wish. see u later

Kazuya headed down the passageway towards the place where he had met Eijun the evening before, trotting a little because he was late. He’d headed out when he’d gotten the text, but it took him longer to get himself together than he’d expected. As he moved through the crowd, he heard Eijun before he saw him and paused. He was playing...runs? Something that sounded like warm-up exercises and Kazuya filed that piece of information away for later consideration.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, pulling his violin case off his back. "It took me a little longer than I thought it would to get here." He popped open his case and removed his violin, taking out and tightening his bow.

"No worries, I've only been here a few minutes myself," Eijun said, strumming his strings to check the tuning with Kazuya's violin. He adjusted his D-string and checked again. Satisfied, he turned up his amp.

"Did you have a chance to look at any of those TSO songs?" Kazuya asked, laying his case open in front of them to collect any offerings they may receive.

Eijun grinned. "I did! I listened to them on the train home and then found the tabs online. I'm pretty comfortable with a few of them."

"You are? You just heard them last night, did you even sleep?"

"Of course I slept!" Eijun protested. "I'm fairly good at picking up new songs, especially when I have the music in front of me."

"So, what do you want to start with?"

"How about "Beethoven"? I really liked that one," Eijun said.

"You're sure? That one is a little tricky."

"I know, I was stuck on the fingering for a while, but I think I got it."

"Okay, let's give it a try," Kazuya said.

Lifting his violin, he tucked it under his chin and started, the violin taking the lead before the guitar kicked in. Eijun followed his entrance, taking not only the guitar parts but also other instrument's harmonies when the violin was the solo instrument, while Kazuya did the same for the guitar.

They played the whole song together, finishing with a flourish to the applause of the listening passers-by and the sound of coins dropping into the case.

Kazuya was shocked at how well Eijun had learned the song, understanding that he'd had to learn more than just the tablature to play it that way.

Of course, he wasn't about to admit any such thing.

"Not too bad," Kazuya said, pushing his glasses back up his nose. "Some of the transitions were a little rough, and you could use some work on your timing, but not bad."

Eijun grinned at him. "I've only known you for twenty-four hours and I already know that's high praise from you."

"Don't let it go to your head."

"I won't!" Eijun promised. "But you're right about my timing; I have a terrible time keeping to the correct tempo."

"We'll have to work on that, then," Kazuya said. "What's next?"

They continued to play, working their way through the songs they'd played the day before and a few others from the list Kazuya had sent over the evening before. After a few hours, they'd gone through their repertoire several times and were ready to quit.

"Diner?" Kazuya asked, counting their take.

"Sure, but we'll pay out of the winnings and then split what's left, how's that?"

"Fair enough," Kazuya shrugged, stuffing the wad into his pocket. They packed up their instruments and hiked down the dark tunnel towards the staircase closest to the Hollywood Diner.

Dodging the crowds as they walked down Sixth Avenue, Eijun nudged Kazuya. "Look! It's orange and blue tonight."

Kazuya looked up at the Empire State Building and nodded. "Yeah, that's cool. I wonder what that means?"

"I'm not sure, but I think there's a website that can tell you."

"There is, we used to check it all the time, me and my dad," Kazuya agreed.

"You did?"

"Yeah, you can see it from my bedroom window, so we used to check it every night. It's been a while since we've done that, though."

"That's too bad," Eijun said.

"Yeah. He's just really busy," Kazuya explained, pulling open the door to the diner and following Eijun inside.

"Hello, boys!" Dolly greeted them as they walked in. "Go on in, I'll be right with you."

"Thanks, Dolly," Eijun said with a grin.

"Yeah, thanks," Kazuya echoed him.

Eijun followed Kazuya back to the booth they'd occupied the night before, sliding his guitar along the red vinyl booth and scooting beside it. He leaned his case against the window, being careful not to touch the brightly lit neon signs.

Kazuya followed suit, his case leaning against the window as well.

They'd just been seated when Dolly came by. "Nice to see you both again. What can I get you boys?"

"Coke for him, iced coffee for me, and a pile of french fries, extra crispy," Kazuya said after glancing at Eijun.

"I'll get that right out," Dolly said, moving to check on the other tables.

"Did you get a chance to look at that playlist?" Eijun asked Kazuya, leaning on the table.

"I glanced at it, I haven't had a chance to really dig into it," Kazuya said.

"Oh," Eijun said, deflating a little.

"It's not that I don't want to," Kazuya was quick to explain. "I just had a couple of practices and lessons to go to."

"You're on break, right?"

"Technically, yes. But the spring competitions are coming up in May and the orchestra needs to be in perfect shape. I'm the concertmaster, so I have to be there for all the practices, even when the instructor isn't."

"Concertmaster? Is that like the conductor?"

"Not really? Kinda? It means I'm the first chair of the first violins, and as such, I'm the leader of the musicians. I take over for the conductor if he's out and run some of the practices, that kind of thing."

"Wow, that's...that's amazing. But isn't it stressful?"

"Well, yeah, but it's fine."

"And you're taking lessons? Why?"

"Because I'm not a master yet, I still have plenty to learn."

"What are you learning?" Eijun asked, tearing the wrapper off the straw and putting it into the drink Dolly had set in front of him.

"Today was violin," Kazuya explained. "Tomorrow is the viola, Thursday is piano, and on Mondays, I have cello lessons."

"You're learning four instruments?"

"I told you I played all the strings, remember? The only one I have to take is piano, my mother insists." Kazuya took a drink. "I was taking bass lessons, but I figured I was good enough at that, so I switched to cello."

"And you're in the school orchestra?"

"Yes. And the rock band."

"There's a rock band at LaGuardia?"

"Actually, there are four of them, one for each year," Kazuya said with a smirk.

"What do you play for that?"

"Right now, I'm playing keyboards. I've played bass guitar when it was needed, too."

They sat back and watched at Dolly set a huge plate of french fries in front of them, with a bowl of ranch dressing on the side.

"Thanks, Dolly," Kazuya said. "I'm glad you remembered."

"As if I could forget," Dolly said. "You boys enjoy, I'll check back when you need refills." She wandered off, and Eijun returned to his questions.

"So that's how you know all those songs," Eijun said.

"Not...kinda?" Kazuya said. "It's all part of the same thing, I guess. My friend Kuramochi is a percussionist and into classic rock. He taught me about the music, and dragged me into the band." Kazuya stopped to dip a fry and pop it into his mouth. "I wasn't sure about it at first, but it's fun. Doubly so because it makes my mother have kittens. And yet, it's a school-sponsored group and shows I have diversity, so she can't really say anything about it."

"So you have practice every day of the break?"

"I do, except for Friday. No lessons then, either," Kazuya said, remembering what he wanted to talk to Eijun about. "I thought you said you didn't take lessons."

"Wait, what? Why would you think that?” Eijun looked at him

"I don't...you said your dad taught you when you were young, and then you picked it up again after you were hurt. I thought you just started playing again," Kazuya explained.

"What makes you think I am, then?"

"I heard you practicing your runs and warm-ups when I was coming to meet you, and that's not something you'd get from reading tabs online."

Eijun laughed. "You're not wrong about that. If I didn't warm up properly, Chris would kill me."

"Chris?"

"Yes, my guitar teacher," Eijun smirked. "When I started playing again, my dad only taught me a few things before he decided I needed a proper teacher, and that's when he found me Chris."

"He's good?"

"He's brilliant," Eijun said with a sigh. "And he's a stickler for form and warm-ups and exercises. He's a classical guitarist, but I'm not ready to learn that yet. I'm still working on a lot of picking and chord progressions. He doesn't want to start teaching me more classical stuff until I get better with tempo, and I can't blame him. I'm all over the place if I'm not super careful."

"How long have you been taking lessons?"

"About four months," Eijun admitted. "That's partly the reason I've started busking, I really want to help my parents pay for them, they're not cheap."

"Couldn't you get a job? You'd probably make more money."

"That's true, but when school goes back in, I'd have to quit. This I can do whenever I can squeeze it in. There's no schedule."

"Fair enough," Kazuya said. "Why all the way down here, though? Couldn't you do it closer to home?"

"Well, up north nobody has any money to drop in a case, and most of the platforms are outside anyway. There aren't many side tunnels on the Upper West, and Midtown is full of musicians that have approval from the city. This tunnel is perfect, I'm not somewhere that people have to stand and listen to me if they don't want to, and the acoustics are pretty good. Plus it's a straight shot home, so I don't have to switch trains."

"That makes sense," Kazuya nodded, continuing to decimate the fries.

"Plus, if I hadn't, you wouldn't have met me," Eijun smirked at him, eyes sparkling.

Kazuya snorted a laugh. "You're right about that, too," he said, grinning. "And your life would be infinitely poorer without me in it."

"I don't know if I'd go that far," Eijun quipped.

"You wound me," Kazuya said, draping himself dramatically over the table while Eijun pelted him with french fries, peals of laughter coming from them both.

"Anyway," Kazuya said, sitting up and eating all the fries that had landed on him. "I'll look over that playlist and let you know what I think."

"Okay, good," Eijun said, reaching over to dislodge the fry stuck in Kazuya's hair. "I tried to pick songs that people would know. There are a few there that are either newer or not the band’s greatest hit, but that I think are interesting. Some of them have violins, but I think a lot of them would be fun to adapt."

"That's a cool idea, I'll keep that in mind," Kazuya said. "I might add to the list if it's okay with you."

"Of course, I made it shared between us. I'm sure you'll think of things I didn't," Eijun said. "And if you think of anything classical you want us to try to figure out, that would be fun too."

"I'll do that."

"Okay, great!" Eijun said, picking up the last fry from the plate and popping it into his mouth.

"Ready to go?" Kazuya asked.

"Yeah, I need to get home. Mom's on second shift this week, so I need to finish up dinner," Eijun said.

Kazuya pulled out the money he'd stuffed in his pocket and counted out enough for the check and tip, leaving it on the table. He folded up the rest and held it out to Eijun. "Here."

"That's not half," Eijun said, eyes narrowed.

"I know, but you should take it anyway," Kazuya said. "You need to pay for your lessons. I don't really need it for anything; I'm mostly doing this because I like to play live."

"But you've earned it, that's not fair."

"It's fine, honestly. I'd never want to stand between you and your lessons, trust me," Kazuya snarked.

"What?" Eijun squawked. "Are you saying I'm terrible or something?"

"Would I do that?" Kazuya continued to snark. "But now that you mention it..."

"Asshole," Eijun grumbled. "Your people skills could use some work."

"Thank you!" Kazuya responded with a smirk. "Seriously, though. You should take it, pay for your lessons. It'll help your family out."

Eijun reluctantly pocketed the money. "If you're sure."

"I am."

"Thanks, then," Eijun said, shooting him a sunny smile.

Together, they walked out of the diner, yelling their goodbyes to Dolly. Heading down the street towards the station, they walked slowly, not saying anything until they reached the corner where Eijun had to split off.

"You get home safe," Kazuya said.

"You too," Eijun answered. "Tomorrow?"

"Same time, same place."

"See you then! Goodnight, Kazuya."

"'Night, Eijun."

Kazuya headed home, climbing the stairs and entering the foyer. Toeing off his shoes, he listened carefully for voices—lights were on, and usually the housekeeper, Josephine, turned off all but the kitchen light when she left. He heard voices coming from that direction and sighed with relief when he realized his father was on the phone with a patient. He didn't hear the banging that would indicate his mom was cooking, so he figured his father had thrown one of the casseroles that Josephine had prepared in advance for just this situation. He'd picked his instrument back up and started up the stairs when he heard his name called.

"Kazuya?"

"Yeah?"

"Come on down when you've put your things away, I'd like to talk to you."

"Yes, Dad," Kazuya answered. Odds were that he wasn't going to have to listen to the same kind of lecture he'd heard the night before, his father was much less traditional than his mother, but he didn't know if he was up to the conversation, anyway. Honestly, he never felt up for it.

It was better than his mother, though. There was always that.

He dropped his instrument case on the bed and plugged his almost dead phone in before heading back downstairs.

"Hi, Dad, how was work?" he asked as he entered the kitchen to the sight of his father pulling a browned casserole out of the oven. Lasagna, if he had to guess.

"Fine, how was your day? Where were you?" Norio Miyuki set the pan down before diving back into the fridge to pull out a bowl of salad.

"It was good, thanks." Kazuya pulled plates down from the cupboard and forks from the drawer, setting them on the island. "Is mom coming home for dinner?"

"No, she's got meetings this evening. A client that needs some hand-holding," His father explained.

"Gotcha." Kazuya served himself some dinner, as did his father, and they moved to the breakfast nook to eat—when his mother wasn't home, they never used the dining room at all.

"So, what did you do on your day off?" Norio asked.

"Well, I had orchestra practice this morning, we have a lot of work to do to get ready for the spring competitions. After that, I had my violin lessons, which are going fine. And then I met a friend and we busked in the 14th street passage for a few hours." Kazuya didn't see any point in lying, he never did. If his parents didn't approve of his activities, so be it. He refused to be dishonest.

"What instrument does he play? Viola? Flute?" Norio asked, naming the traditional violin partners.

Kazuya chuckled at that image. "No. Actually, he plays the electric guitar."

"Really? And he goes to LaGuardia?"

"No, he goes to GW." Kazuya braced himself for the explosion. Which, to his surprise, didn't come.

"Really? Is he any good?"

"He is. He has a lot of natural ability. He's not very well trained, but he's taking lessons," Kazuya explained. "He picks things up faster than I've ever seen, though."

"That's great! Where did you meet?"

"In the passageway. I was playing where he usually does, and instead of him finding somewhere else, we decided to play together. It's a lot of fun to do stuff that's not as structured as my normal music."

"I'm sure it can be," Norio said. "Just don't let it get to be too big of a distraction so your important work doesn't suffer."

"It won't," Kazuya agreed. "But any practice is good practice, right?"

"Pretty much. Don't tell your mother I said that, though."

"I won't," Kazuya paused, wondering if he should say something to his father about what his mother had told him last night. "Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you know Mom's been talking to people in Japan about finding me a wife?"

"She did mention that, yes."

"Can you ask her to not? I'm really not interested in marriage, especially to a girl," Kazuya said. "You know I like boys."

"I do, but it might just be a phase," Norio said.

"I don't think it is, but even if that's true, I don't want to marry someone I don't know just because they're from Japan," Kazuya said. "Why would I?"

"It's tradition, son. I did it, and your grandfather did it, all the way back."

"Did you like it? Why would you want to force me into it?"

"I learned to love your mother, just like you'll learn to love whomever we have you marry," Norio said with finality.

"You can't make me marry anyone, you know that, right?"

"I do," Norio said with a sigh, backing down. "But it is tradition and I would appreciate you considering it."

Kazuya nodded, allowing the discussion to be tabled for now. "I will. But it's way too early for me to be even thinking about marriage, can you please ask Mom to hold off?"

"That's fair, I'll speak to her about it," Norio said, grabbing at the opportunity to put things back on an even keel. "So, tell me more about this new friend of yours."

Kazuya gladly accepted the change of subject and they chatted aimlessly while finishing dinner.

After they were done, Kazuya cleaned up, putting the leftovers away and washing the dishes they'd used, making sure the kitchen was spotless before heading upstairs to clean his instrument and wind down for the evening.

"So, how'd it go?"

Eijun looked up and saw his father standing in the doorway, watching him stir the pasta he was boiling to have with the sauce his mother had left simmering on the stove.

"It was good," Eijun said. "How was work?"

"Same old thing," Eidan Sawamura said. "The shop is busier than ever, and your grandfather and I are working our butts off. But that's good; it means we don't have to worry about making the bills." Eidan worked for the city, both he and Eitoku worked in the citywide machine shop. "Overtime is a blessing; we can save for your college."

"I'm not sure I want to go to college," Eijun said. "Now that I'm out of baseball, I don't know what I'd want to study. I think I might just join you at the shop, instead."

"Eijun, you know that's not a great future." Eidan started. "You should get an education, see the world. Not spend your youth holed up in a dusty old shop in a dead-end job."

Eijun sighed. "I don't think it would be the best use of our resources, that's all. I'd like to maybe start a band? Or join one, something. I really like playing."

"Well, I tried that," Eidan said. "It didn't work out so well for me, but you're already miles ahead of what I was able to do. If that's what you want, I'll talk to your mother about it, I know she really wants you to go to college."

"I know she does," Eijun said. "I just don't know what I'd study—I'd planned on going because of baseball, and that would have been a scholarship. Now, I don't know."

"That's fair. If you think of anything you'd like to study, let us know, but I'll speak to your mother in the meantime."

"Thanks, Dad." Eijun smiled at him, noting the lines of exhaustion on his face. "Why don't you go change and come sit, dinner will be ready in a few minutes."

"I think I will," Eidan said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders in a brief hug. "I love you, child of mine. You're a good kid, no matter what your parole officer says about you." He chuckled as he let go, heading towards his room. "And I want to talk to you about what happened today, okay?"

"Sure," Eijun answered, taking the pasta off the stove to drain.

Kazuya the smartass: I'm listening to this playlist and I like these songs.

Kazuya the smartass: I know them all, too. Good job there.

Me: u do? that's great

Kazuya the smartass: I don't know how to play them, but I am at least familiar with them.

Kazuya the smartass: Some of them I've played, though.

Me: which ones? on the bass?

Kazuya the smartass: Some, but mostly piano. Zep, The Who, The Killers, Queen.

Me: that's great! will make things easier

Kazuya the smartass: Not so sure about the Tull, though.

Me: i thought that might be neat, transpose the flute to the guitar *shrug*

Kazuya the smartass: why not 'Aqualung', then?

Me: i dunno? i like this one better

Me: take it off if u don't like it

Kazuya the smartass: Naw, it's fine. I was just asking. I like it better, too. Although dueting Misty Mountain Hop might be tricky.

Me: ur not wrong, i just love the song

Kazuya the smartass: fair enough.

Kazuya the smartass: I'm going to check these out, try to see if they'll work well for us.

Me: ok, have fun!

Kazuya the smartass: I will. I'll probably bug you more about things.

Me: fine with me

Me: i'll be around!

Kazuya the smartass: Before I forget! It’s the Met’s season opener tonight.

Me: ?

Kazuya the smartass: The orange and blue Empire state building.

*pic attached*

Eijun opened it to see a shot of the top part of the empire state building, orange and blue.

Me: oh! thanks! That’s so cool

Kazuya the smartass: It is. Goodnight, Eijun

Me: goodnight, kazuya

Chapter Text

Kazuya strolled down the hall towards the practice room, backpack with his sheet music slung over his shoulder. He heard footsteps running behind himself and braced for the arm that fell heavy around his shoulders.

"Kyhahaha!" was the first sound out of Kuramochi's mouth. "You didn't call me last night, asshole. What's up with that?"

"Ahh, did you miss me, Mochi?" Kazuya said sweetly.

"Fuck you," Kuramochi said without heat. "What happened with the pretty boy?"

"Eijun?"

"That's his name?"

"Yes, Eijun Sawamura."

"Japanese?"

"I'd assume so. He looks to be." Kazuya shrugged. "Does it matter?"

"Not really, I'm just curious," Mochi slid his arm off Kazuya's shoulders and they continued down the hall. "So what happened?"

"Nothing much," Kazuya said. "He's actually pretty good; he learned several of those TSO songs overnight."

"You played them?"

"Yeah. And some others, we started working on some things we both know."

"Like what?"

"Devil went Down, Purple Haze, Hall of the Mountain King. Kashmir." Kazuya said. "Oh, get this! He made a Spotify playlist."

"He's made you a playlist? Like a mixtape?" Kuramochi laughed.

Kazuya elbowed him. "That's what I said, but sadly, no. It's a bunch of songs he's found that he thinks we can adapt. Things that people will recognize."

"Are they good ones? Things that will work?"

"Yes, they are. Some of them are interesting choices, not things I would even consider, but they're not bad ones. Just out of the box. I like that."

"Like what?"

"Some Jethro Tull, Behind Blue Eyes, Misty Mountain Hop," Kazuya listed the things he'd found the most intriguing from the list.

Kuramochi hummed. "Yeah, they're not the things you'd think of when you're talking about violin, that's for sure. And you say he goes to GW?"

"Yeah, he's—he was a baseball player. Pitcher. He must have been good; he was their Ace until the end of last season."

"He got hurt?"

"Yes, and is done, apparently. He did something to his elbow and can't play anymore," Kazuya pushed open the door to their practice room. "I think he can still play, but he can't work as hard as he needs to, so he's out."

"That sucks," Kuramochi said. "I can't imagine how that feels."

Kazuya nodded. "I know. Everyone I know who's been injured here is either bitter as hell or is willing to do permanent damage to get back in the game. It's amazing that he's neither."

"Sounds like an interesting guy." Kuramochi dug his drumsticks out of his backpack. "I'd like to meet him sometime."

"That would be amusing. I don't know if you'd get along like you were best friends forever, or if you'd try to kill him," Kazuya thought about it for a second. "Or both," he laughed, settling at the keyboard as he waited for the rest of the band to show up.

Eijun sat in a chair in front of the head coach's desk.

"Are you sure about this, Eijun? We hate to lose you; your spirit is a real asset to the team, even if you can't play."

Eijun nodded. "I'm sure, coach. It doesn't make sense for me to take up room on the bench or on the team when I'm never going to be able to practice and play again," he sighed, closing his eyes against the emotion that was trying to escape when he considered ending his baseball. "It's not what I wanted for my life, but it's reality. I don't have a future in baseball, and I know there are lots of others who do, who want to be on the team and can do the work."

"Well, if you're positive. I understand your position, and appreciate your consideration for the team." The coach met his gaze, eyes full of compassion. "You'll always have a place here if you want to come back. We'll always be here for you."

"I appreciate that, coach," Eijun said. "I do."

"I hate that it's come to this."

"Me too. Me too," Eijun repeated, standing. "I'm going to get out of your hair, I know practice starts soon."

"Thank you for stopping by, and remember—my door's always open to you. For whatever you need."

"Thank you, coach. I appreciate it." Eijun said, leaving the room and closing the door softly behind himself.

He made it to the boys’ bathroom before he broke down; weeping from having closed the door on the only thing he'd ever really wanted.

Sliding down the wall, he pulled his knees close, wrapping his arms around them and burying his head. He was so distraught that he didn't hear the door open and close, or the sound of the feet padding across to him. He didn't know he wasn't alone until he felt arms wrap around his shoulders and the feeling of soft hair brushing his cheek.

"Eijun, are you okay?"

He sniffled, trying to get himself under control. "I will be, I'm sorry, Haruichi. You should go to practice."

"It can wait," he said, pushing back Eijun's hair. "You told him?"

"I did," Eijun felt the tears well up again. "I didn't think it would be this hard, though."

"Oh, Eijun,” Haruichi sighed, rubbing his back. "You knew it would be bad."

"But not like this. I don't know what I'm going to do. I used to know so much about my future, and now it's all gone."

"I know, but you'll figure it out, I have faith in you. We all have faith in you."

Eijun chuckled wetly. "I wish I had faith in me."

"It'll come." Haruichi handed him a tissue. "You have your music, how's that going?"

"Oh!" Eijun's head shot up and he wiped at his nose impatiently. "You've been busy and I haven't been able to talk to you.”

"What?"

"I met someone!"

"You did what?" Haruichi's eyes narrowed. "Who?"

"Oh, wait," Eijun said, realizing what he'd said. "I met another musician and we've been playing together."

"Really? When did this happen?"

"Monday," he said. "But you have practice, and it's a long story. Call me afterward, if you want? I'll be home until about 2:30."

"Okay," Haruichi said, standing and brushing his pink hair out of his face. "Is it alright if I come by? That might be easier."

"Of course," Eijun laughed. "If you want to come over, please do. Everyone's gone, so you don't have to worry about Gramps smacking you or anything."

Haruichi smiled softly. "I don't mind your grandpa's smacks so much," he said.

"Well, then, I'll tell him to save the ones he aims at me for you," Eijun said.

"I don't like them that much, Eijun," Haruichi deadpanned.

"You can't blame me for trying," Eijun chuckled.

Haruichi sighed. "I guess I can't."

"Thank you for finding me, I'm glad you did."

"Of course. I knew you were talking to him today, and if I can't be there when my best friend needs me, what kind of friend would I be?"

"You're the best, Haruichi."

"You're not so bad yourself, Eijun."

Me: so I told my coach I was quitting the team

Stringmaster: Wait, what? Oh, man. That had to be rough, I'm sorry.

Me: it was harder than i thought, but haruichi was there so that was good

Me: haruichi is my best friend

Stringmaster: It's good you had a friend with you. Does he play?

Me: yeah. he's great. second base

Stringmaster: You going to be alright to play today?

Me: ye!!! i should be there in plenty of time, but i told him about u and i think hes going to inquisition me

Me: i should be fine though

Stringmaster: That's funny, I was just telling my best friend about you.

Stringmaster: He wants to meet you.

Me: really?

Stringmaster: Yeah. He doesn't believe me, I don't think.

Me: about what? *glares at u*

Stringmaster: What did I do?

Me: i dunno, but it was probably bad

Stringmaster: You wound me.

Me: as if

Stringmaster: You know me so well.

Stringmaster: Heading in for my lesson. See you this afternoon!

Me: yes! see you!

Eijun headed down the stairs, he was a few minutes late, Haruichi had quizzed him unmercifully about the situation, and Eijun was sure he figured out things that he hadn't even said.

"So, Eijun. This boy you met, do you like him?" Haruichi arched an eyebrow and Eijun blustered for a second.

"I don't know him well enough," Eijun prevaricated. "But I think I could, given time."

"And is he into boys?"

"He just broke up with his boyfriend," Eijun said. "So I guess that's a yes."

"Does he know you're gay?"

"No, I didn't tell him. You and Wakana are the only ones who know other than my family," Eijun said. "You know how people at school are. And pro sports are worse."

Haruichi sighed. "I know. I understand. But you might want to let him know if you keep playing together."

"If we keep going after the break, I'll think about it," Eijun agreed. "I don't want to be dishonest, but I don't know that he needs to know right now."

"Fair enough," Haruichi said. "What did you say his name was?"

"Kazuya Miyuki. He's a junior at LaGuardia and says he's the concertmaster."

"What's that?" Haruichi asked.

"You know how orchestras have chairs for positions? Like you can be a second violin, third chair? The first chair is the best, and they go on down. Although second violins are not worse than the first ones, and that's kinda confusing? Anyway. Kazuya is the first chair of the first section. That's also the concertmaster, the person who is in charge of the orchestra when the conductor isn't there."

"Well, if he's telling the truth, it won't be so hard to figure out," Haruichi said.

"Why wouldn't he be?" Eijun asked.

Haruichi snorted. "Any number of reasons. I'll have Ryou look into him."

"What? No! Stop typing! That's not..."

"Too late," Haruichi said. "Odds are that everything's fine, but you can't be too careful, right?"

"Haruichi!" Eijun wailed, hiding his face in his hands. "You can't just do this kind of thing."

"Why not? I'm just looking out for my best friend who's entirely too trusting."

"Okay, well," Eijun said, grabbing his guitar and slinging it and his backpack onto his back. "I need to get going. Good luck with your witch hunt."

Haruichi laughed. "It's not a witch-hunt, Eijun. I'm just being cautious." He stood and picked up his backpack. "I'll walk you to the train."

"Thanks, Haruichi. I really do appreciate it."

"It's what friends are for, right?"

On the train ride down, he'd gotten a text from Haruichi, telling him that Kazuya was who he said he was, but to be careful anyway.

Eijun thanked them both for the information and promised to be cautious.

Now he was trotting down the passageway, late and irritated.

Kazuya was surprised when he got to the spot they played at—Eijun wasn't there. He was late, having been distracted by a text from Kuramochi, one with a link that said 'read this now'. He opened the article and started to read before he shut his phone—it was time to go, he was going to be late. He didn't know if he even wanted to read the rest—from the first paragraph, he could tell it was about Eijun: discussing his potential, where he was headed, and the injury that stopped him in his tracks. He'd had no reason to doubt Eijun was telling the truth and didn't need the proof.

He had just slid his case off his back when Eijun came to a halt beside him. "Sorry I'm late!" he said breathlessly.

Kazuya laughed. "This isn't a job, it's fine," he said. "But I was late too, so it's even more fine. I don't feel so bad."

"Fair enough," Eijun said, shucking his guitar case and backpack, unpacking his instrument.

"Hey, do you have an acoustic?" Kazuya asked.

"Yeah, that's what I play at home," Eijun said.

"Why don't you bring that next time? You wouldn't have to haul your amp with you all this way."

"I wasn't sure people could hear it, that's the reason I don't bring it."

"It should be fine," Kazuya said. "Bring it?"

"Sure," Eijun said, plugging in his guitar.

They checked their tuning, and then ran through their warm-ups, since neither of them had had a chance to play that day.

"We should play those songs we know, and then maybe try a couple of the new ones," Kazuya said. "I know a few of the ones you sent, let's see what we can do.”

"Sounds like a plan," Eijun agreed.

They played through the songs they'd already worked on, moving to a Who song, before trying Misty Mountain Hop, which they both liked but that they couldn't quite get to work.

"We're going to have to think about that one," Eijun said.

Kazuya nodded. "It may not work for us. What about something a little more predictable?"

"Sure, what did you have in mind?"

Kazuya lifted his bow and started playing the opening to Ants Marching, and Eijun grinned, taking up the guitar part with ease.

They played through it a few times, getting comfortable, before moving back to the beginning of their repertoire.

Eijun smiled at the boy dropping money in the case, recognizing him and his mother from the day before. Kazuya nudged him and nodded at someone else, another face from the last time they’d played. As the people streamed by, they saw more that they recognized—a few of whom walked by and dropped money into their case.

After a few hours, they gathered up their money and headed to the diner, as was becoming their habit.

"Third day in a row!" Dolly said as they walked in. "I'm going to miss you two when school's back in."

"I'm going to miss you, too," Eijun said.

"You probably won’t miss us as much as you might think," Kazuya said with a grin as he led the way back to the same booth they'd always used.

Sliding their instruments in, they followed suit.

Dolly walked up to their table. "Do I need to ask?"

"Probably not," Kazuya said with a grin. "Coke, coffee, and fries."

"Extra crispy, side of ranch?" she asked.

"You've got it," Kazuya said. "Thanks, Dolly."

"Be right back with your drinks," she said, walking away.

"So how were your lessons?" Eijun asked. "Viola, right?"

"Yeah. They were fine, it's so close to a violin, I have to remember the strings and notes, but other than that it's not so hard," Kazuya said, grinning at Dolly as she put their drinks in front of them. "What about you? When are yours?"

"Tuesdays and Saturdays," Eijun said. "I had one yesterday. It's fine, I always have something new to work on, and that's always fun."

"What are you studying? I thought you said he's going to teach you classical music? Are you learning any kind of picking?"

Dolly set the fries in front of them, joined by a bowl of ranch dressing and a small plate for ketchup. "Anything else, boys?"

"I'd like some more coke, please," Eijun said.

"Of course, be right back," she said, taking his glass to the machine.

Turning back to Kazuya, he answered the question. "He's teaching me the basics of picking, more like what people do with rock than classical. And chords, how to read tabs and sheet music, stuff like that." He smiled at Dolly, thanking her when she placed his glass in front of him. "I used to get frustrated with him, I wanted to learn the big stuff, you know? I was so irritated that I went online to look for a new teacher and I found out about his history. Apparently, he was a studio musician, and a good one, but he ignored his body to play more than he should have. He destroyed his wrist and hasn't been able to get back into the studio. That's why he's such a stickler for proper warm-up and exercises." Eijun dunked a fry into the ranch dressing and popped it into his mouth. "After learning that, I decided that he knew something I needed to learn. I'm still not sure that I couldn't have saved my elbow if I'd known how to take care of myself."

"That's possible, I guess," Kazuya said. "But I do know plenty of musicians who don't realize how much they need to take care of their bodies. I've seen people with all kinds of problems that could have been avoided with some knowledge and care."

"Yeah, I get that. I'm sure that's what happened to me, we never really did much warmup with the team. Just a few stretches."

"I can't imagine how frustrating it must be to lose something you love and find out that it was avoidable," Kazuya said, claiming another fry.

Eijun sighed. "You're right about that. I'm trying not to dwell on it, just push on. I've had my time to mourn, I can't second guess things anymore, it's not healthy."

"That's a good attitude to have," Kazuya said.

"I know. I figure if I repeat it enough, eventually I'll believe it," Eijun said wryly.

Kazuya chuckled. "You will. It may seem tough now, but it will get better."

"It already is, I'm just not quite there yet. Music gives me something else to think about, so there's that."

"That's good, then."

"Yeah, I just don't want to make the same mistakes. Thus, I'm willing to go at Chris's pace, knowing it's better to be safe than sorry."

"True enough," Kazuya agreed. "So, a couple of things."

"Yes?"

"Misty Mountain Hop. That's my favorite Zep song; I'd love to figure out a way to play it. Any thoughts?"

"I'm not sure." Eijun dipped another fry. "It's got a few complex melody lines running through it, even though it sounds simple. I think we need three instruments for it, maybe."

"That's...you may be right, let me think about it some more." Kazuya's forehead creased. "I wish we had...," he stopped, thinking.

"Hey, Eijun?"

"Yes?"

"Can you sing?"

Eijun's eyes widened. "I don't know? I've never tried. Can you?"

"A passable amount, I'd say. I can carry a tune, but I don't think my voice is all the nice to listen to," Kazuya said. "Have you ever tried?"

"To sing? Of course. In elementary school and in the shower and to the radio, but not in public."

"We should try that, then."

Eijun was flabbergasted. "What? You want me to sing? Even though I've never done it?"

"Yeah, we can try it tomorrow."

"No, we can't."

"Why not?" Kazuya asked, genuinely puzzled.

Eijun sighed. "Kazuya, there's a difference between doing something in public that you know you're fairly proficient at and doing something you've never done before, you understand that, right?"

"Yes. But it's just busking."

"Says the concertmaster at LaGuardia whose whole life has been music and who plays a dozen instruments, who's only not a concert pianist because he doesn't want to do it," Eijun snarked. "What if I said I wanted you to catch for me at the next scrimmage? Would you be comfortable doing that? It's only a scrimmage."

"Point taken," Kazuya said. "I think you'd be fine, but I can see where you'd be uncomfortable."

"Thank you for that," Eijun answered. "Why don't you sing? You know you can."

"It's really hard with the violin. I haven't tried to figure out how to hold it, play, and sing at the same time. The guitar is a little easier."

"That's true," Eijun said. "I can't think of any violinists who play while they sing."

"There are a lot of fiddle players who do, Charlie Daniels does."

"Is there a difference between the violin and the fiddle?"

"Not structurally, they're the same instrument. The difference is the playing. Fiddle is usually played with bluegrass and country music, violins are easy to transport so people took them with them when they were traveling and used them to play music for the community, common songs and ballads and such. Violin is usually associated with classical music. So, the methodology for playing the fiddle was influenced by the need to sing or call out moves or do any one of a number of interactions with the crowd. Violins tend to be part of a group, orchestra or otherwise, and don't need that capability."

"That's fascinating," Eijun said.

"It's amazing how people take things and make them work for themselves and their communities," Kazuya said. "Even things that are not essential for survival."

"True, true," Eijun said.

"For now, we can table that song, until we figure out which of us is going to sing."

"Works for me."

"One more thing," Kazuya said. "What are you doing Friday?"

"Nothing. Meeting you, I think?"

"I don't have anything either, so I was wondering if you'd like to come by my place to practice? Maybe about 10:30-11? We can go out to busk afterward."

"That...I'd like that,” Eijun said. “It would be good to work in a place that's private. We can really hash things out."

"True enough. And maybe there, we can figure out if either one of us can sing." Kazuya chuckled.

"We can," Eijun agreed. "Also, I wanted to ask you about after the break. Do you want to keep doing this?"

"I'd like to, it's fun," Kazuya said. "What about you?"

"Well, yeah. I just don't know when you're free—my afternoons have suddenly been cleared," Eijun said, eyes sad.

"Oh, man. Yeah," Kazuya felt bad for reminding him of his injury. "I'm free a lot of them. I have lessons and homework, but most of my practices are during school hours."

"Okay, well. We can just play it by ear? Either one of us might need to do school work or something,"

"Sounds like a plan. As long as we both want to keep going, we will. We may want to just practice together sometimes, too. We may want to think about a good place for that," Kazuya said, thinking. "My parents don't mind us using the house unless it's late or they're entertaining or something. We have a soundproofed room on the second floor. It's not perfect, but it's good enough for what we need, we won't be too loud."

"And they won't care if I come over?"

"Honestly? They probably won't notice, neither of them are home much. Maybe on the weekends, but it should be fine, they've never complained about me bringing home people before. Except for Kuramochi, but he's a drummer," Kazuya said, as if that explained everything. Maybe it did, but Eijun didn't get it.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Nothing, really. It's just that the drums tend to be noisy, and drummers are often a little nuts. Throw in the fact that he refuses to be called a 'percussionist' and has an affinity for classic rock, and you have someone guaranteed to make my parents uncomfortable."

"Then they really won't like me," Eijun said. "I'm not trained, classically or otherwise, and my parents are not well educated. I don't have any kind of pedigree, family or education that would be acceptable to them, it sounds like."

"Maybe?" Kazuya shrugged. "They're not going to do anything, even if they do disapprove. They've got the whole 'smile to your face and talk behind your back' thing down to a science."

"We can practice at my house, too," Eijun suggested. "At least on the weekends. My mom works days and my dad and gramps are off. It's just that we don't have somewhere special to go; we'd have to practice in my room. Which would be fine."

"That's maybe a good idea for weekends," Kazuya said. "That way we avoid my parents. We'll see what happens."

Kazuya threw some money on the table to cover the tab, handing the rest to Eijun. "I hope this is helping."

"It is," Eijun said. "We've made enough to cover a few weeks. Thank you, I appreciate it."

"You're welcome," Kazuya said. "I'm glad to hear it, I'd hate for you to have to stop your lessons, you have so much left to learn."

Eijun nodded in agreement before stopping to glare. "You really do have a sarcastic streak, don't you?"

"Thank you," Kazuya said with a smirk.

"You know that's not really a compliment, right?"

Kazuya didn't answer—he just opened the door to the diner, letting Eijun walk in front of him.

Me: Seriously, think about the singing thing.

Eijun plays guitar: i will, but u should too

Me: Did the shift button do something to offend you?

Eijun plays guitar: huh?

Me: Does it not work on your phone?

Eijun plays guitar: what r u?

Eijun plays guitar: OH!

Eijun plays guitar: no, i just dont text like my parents

Eijun plays guitar: u sound like ur super formal or mad or somethin

Me: Because I use proper grammar and punctuation?

Eijun plays guitar: ye

Me: Okay, then.

Me: I guess I'm destined to be seen as a stuffy old man.

Me: I'm okay with that.

Eijun plays guitar: coolness

Me: It's white tonight.

Eijun plays guitar: what is

Eijun plays guitar: oh! empire state building?

Me: Yeah, that's it's normal color. It's not colored every night.

Eijun plays guitar: that's too bad

Eijun plays guitar: its neat when its colorful

Me: You’re right, it’s beautiful. Good night, Eijun.

Eijun plays guitar: ‘night, kazuya. sleep well.

Chapter Text

The next day went as the previous had, with one exception—Eijun didn't have anything to do during the day, so he sat in his room and practiced some of the songs they'd discussed and even sang a little. He wasn't sure he was any good, and he was nowhere near willing to do it in public, but he figured it would be good for him to at least give it a try.

Kazuya stood on the platform, waiting for his train to come. Orchestra practice had been long and hard, there was a lot of work to be done before the spring competitions if they wanted to place anywhere near the top. They were expected to place at the top, and if they didn't perform well it would reflect poorly on Kazuya. He didn't want anything to affect his future, and he wasn't above doing whatever he needed to get people to play their best to ensure that result. But at the end of the day, it was tiring. He didn't know if his fellow musicians loved him or were plotting where they could throw his body into the East River—it was probably a bit of both if he were honest. He pulled out his phone to check his messages when he saw the link Kuramochi had sent over the day before. Opening it, he read the article.

They met in the subway, as had become their habit, but this time Eijun had his acoustic guitar slung over his shoulder. Kazuya nodded in approval, giving him a smile. 

"Brought it, huh?"

"Yeah, I figured it was worth a shot. I prefer playing on this, to tell you the truth. It feels more like my partner than my electric does. Like it's more participatory."

"Ohhh! Big words, Eijun. Did you get a new dictionary?"

"Shut up, asshole," Eijun said without any heat. "What do you want to play?"

"Nothing new today, let's just do the ones we know, okay? Make any adjustments we may need to for the acoustic." Kazuya suggested. "We may decide to go back to electric, although I like both."

 "Yeah, I can see that for some of these songs. I'm not sure how good Purple Haze is going to sound."

"You might be surprised," Kazuya said, drawing his bow across his strings. "Ready?"

"Do me a favor and check your A-string," Eijun said. "It sounds a little off."

Kazuya ran through his tuning and winced at the sound of the offending string. "It's not way off, but I can't believe I missed it," he said, adjusting the fine tuner. Running his bow across them again, he nodded. "Now we're good."

"Alright, yeah," Eijun said. "What do you want to start with?"

"Purple Haze, of course," Kazuya snarked. Eijun grinned and they were off.

Sitting at their table, eating french fries and chatting, Eijun looked at Kazuya.

"Hey, Kazuya? Can I ask you a question?"

"You already did," Kazuya said with a smirk.

"And you wonder why people say you're a jerk," Eijun snarked back. 

"Thank you!"

"Not a compli—" Eijun stopped and squinted at him. "Why do you do that?"

Kazuya cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "You wanted to ask me something?"

"Oh, yeah!" Eijun said, "I did."

"And?"

Eijun hummed, fiddling with his napkin before asking, "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what? Eating french fries?"

"No, idiot. Playing with me."

"What do you mean?" Kazuya put down the fry he had picked up, paying close attention to Eijun.

"I mean. You're amazing, okay? You've got all these people writing all this stuff about you, you're in the papers and everything, stories about how great you are, and yet you're playing with some random dude that you met in the subway, who isn't really any good and can't keep time to save his life," Eijun tapered off.

"Wait, what? What brought this on?"

"Haruichi was worried about me hanging out with some guy I met playing in the subway and he had his brother find out if you were who you said you were," Eijun slid his arms onto the table and rested his head on them. "I read some of the articles he sent over, and I just wondered why someone like you would bother with someone like me? Do you feel sorry for me or something?"

Kazuya stared at him for a second before busting out laughing.

Eijun swatted at him, "Don't laugh at me, asshole. It's a real question."

He sobered enough to answer him. "I know, I know." Chortling one more time, he got himself under control. "Okay, no. It's not because I pity you," he started. "First of all, do I look like someone who'd do something like this out of pity? I'm not that nice of a person, as you are so quick to point out. Secondly, I like playing with you. It's fun. I've not had a lot of fun playing recently. I'm getting to the point where everything I do matters, everyone is watching me, and my future is dependent on me doing everything exactly right. I can't afford to make a mistake." He grabbed a fry and chewed on it pensively. "Don't get me wrong, I don't mind. The pressure from being the concertmaster is something I wanted, I like challenging myself and having expectations placed on me. That's what I need to get me where I want to go."

"Where's that?" Eijun asked, curious about his future plans.

"Juilliard," Kazuya said. "But I'm not sure exactly what I want to do. Back to the question, though. I enjoy playing with you. If we goof up, it's not a big deal. We have fun. I also know that you're not bad. You've got a lot of talent and your instincts are good. You just need to hone your craft, get better at timing, and you'll be amazing."

"You think so?"

"I know so," Kazuya said. "And I'm the expert, so listen to me."

Eijun stuck out his tongue and grinned.

Kazuya smirked at him. "You know, now it's my turn to confess to being a creeper."

"Wait why?"

"Kuramochi googled you and sent me a link," Kazuya admitted. "I wasn't worried about you being all 'stranger-danger', you're too loud and naive to be like that. But he was curious. I read the story this morning, and I have to say that you impress me, Eijun Sawamura."

"Why?"

"Because I've seen plenty of musicians who had to quit because of injury, and most of them are either bitter or doing dangerous things to get themselves back into music. You had a great career ahead or yourself, and you've lost it. But you're not resentful or trying too hard, you've accepted it and are working to find something else." Kazuya met his gaze, his eyes serious. "I admire that. I don't know if I'd be able to act like that if I was in that situation."

Eijun grimaced. "Thank you. Seriously. I'm not sure I've completely accepted it, but I know that I'm not going to be able to go back. I have considered all my options, and I just...couldn't sit there and brood. And when I realized how much I liked playing the guitar, I turned all my energy to that."

"Yes, and you have plenty of that," Kazuya snarked.

"You had to ruin it, didn't you?" Eijun said with a glare. "You damned...tanuki!"

"Tanuki?" Kazuya laughed. "You mean the raccoon things? In Japan? Why that?"

"Well, you've got those stupid glasses and that stupid grin," he blustered, pointing at Kazuya's face. "And you like tricking people and making them look stupid!"

"Isn't that kitsune?" Kazuya asked, eyebrows drawn together.

"No, I don't think so," Eijun said. "'Kitsune have seven disguises, but tanuki have eight'," he quoted. "Gramps always said that tanuki were the tricksters, they liked fooling people and making them look like idiots, where the kitsune are more serious."

"I can't argue with you, I don't know enough about it," Kazuya shrugged. "The only thing I know about tanuki is the size of their...well, you know." Kazuya grinned.

Eijun threw a french fry at him that he caught and popped into his mouth. "So, your grandfather's from Japan?"

"Yeah, he and my granny immigrated when my dad was a baby," Eijun said.

"Do you know Japanese?"

"Not a lot, mostly enough to watch anime without subtitles, that kind of thing," Eijun answered. "What about your parents?"

"Dad's family emigrated around the turn of the 20th century, and mom was a Japanese citizen until she got married. Japan doesn't do dual citizenship," Kazuya explained.

"Really?" Eijun said. "I didn't know that."

"Yeah, you have to give up your Japanese citizenship if you want to get it elsewhere."

"Interesting." He sighed, looking into his cup. "Seriously, though. If you're just doing this out of pity or for some kind of good deed, just stop, okay?"

Kazuya snickered. "Didn't you just call me a tanuki? Do you honestly think I'd do something like this out of the goodness of my heart?"

"Yeah, right. I forgot," Eijun smirked at him. "You don't have any goodness in your heart."

"Thank you," Kazuya said with a sharp grin.

Eijun pelted him with another fry.

"Don't waste them, dammit," Kazuya said, dipping it into the ranch dressing before eating it.

"I know you'll eat them, I'm not wasting anything," Eijun argued.

"Fair enough," Kazuya said. "We're still on tomorrow?"

"Yup," Eijun said. "What's your address?"

"319 W. 20th. Between Eighth and Ninth. I'll text it to you so you don't forget."

"Apartment number?"

"We don't have one, we own the townhouse," Kazuya said.

Eijun cocked an eyebrow at him. "Your family owns a brownstone. In Chelsea," he deadpanned.

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure I'm not a charity—never mind. Tanuki, right?" Eijun said.

"Right," Kazuya agreed with a grin. "But really, it's been in the family since it was built in 1910 or something. It's not like we're super rich."

"You own a townhouse in Chelsea; I think that qualifies you as rich in 90% of the country, Kazuya."

"Well. Maybe? Honestly, we don't have to pay anything, but it's not like we have tons of money," he said. "There's a trust that was set up that pays the taxes and is used for maintenance and such, but that's it."

"What do your parents do?"

"Dad's a neurosurgeon and mom's a lawyer, specializing in international law. Why?"

Eijun smirked at him. "You know what my parents do?"

"No?"

"My mom's a nurse, in pediatrics; Dad—and Gramps—are machinists," he said. "Your 'not rich' argument is not holding water."

Kazuya sighed. "I guess? I mean, I've never had to worry about money and stuff, but I don't consider us to be well off."

"You might not, but most everyone else in the world would," Eijun said before shrugging. "It's not like it's a bad thing or anything, but you have to know that there are plenty of people who would resent you for that."

"I guess? It's just never occurred to me that my parents’ financial situation had anything to do with me."

"It does. It's not a bad thing, like I said. But you know—for example—that if you wanted to pick up some more lessons, it wouldn't be a problem. For me, though, it would be. I'd never even ask, I know how tight things are." Eijun met his gaze, willing him to understand. "I don't care that you have money, I just want you to see why I'm asking what I do. I never want to be a charity case. Ever. If you like doing this with me, that's all I need to know."

"I do," Kazuya said with equal intensity. "I'm having a blast, and I don't care about any of that other stuff. I don't know why it's a big deal anyway. You know Kuramochi, my best friend?"

"Yeah."

"He lives in Brooklyn, and his mom's a waitress. I don't care, she's amazing," Kazuya said, stopping before he spilled how much he wished he could live there, not ready to admit his difficulties with his own mother.

"Really? He commutes to school every day?"

"Sometimes," Kazuya said. "His father lives in Chinatown, so he stays with him sometimes rather than taking the long commute home." 

"Gotcha," Eijun said. "And your parents don't have any issues with him?" 

"Does it matter?" Kazuya said. "I don't have any problems. And honestly, Mom is very Japanese, so she's not going to say anything to him, anyway. She's never anything but polite. Dad's fine with him, though."

"That's good," Eijun said, before deflating, resting his head on his hand. "I'm sorry if that sounded like an interrogation or something, I've just...well, the upper levels of high school baseball can be as bad as music, I suppose, and I've run into plenty of kids who think their parents' money somehow makes them more worthy of...everything, if I'm being honest. I hadn't gotten that vibe from you, at all. I'm a little traumatized, I guess."

Kazuya nodded. "Fair enough. I know the types of kids you're talking about and they make me nuts, I can't deal with them. They come into my orchestra and think they don't have to work for anything."

"Yes, exactly. And they get so upset when they don't get where they want to because of who they are," Eijun said.

"Right," Kazuya agreed, eating the last of the french fries. "So, does it bother you that I'm giving you all the busking money? Because I don't need it, but I can see how it might."

"It did, but I don't think it does now," Eijun considered carefully. "Maybe because I know it's helping my parents, and I'm working for it too, so it's not like you're just giving me money."

"That's a good way to think about it."

"I started doing this partially to help you, you know? So how can I refuse more help?"

"True enough," Kazuya said. "So I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Of course," Eijun agreed. "I'm having too much fun to quit."

Entering the front door, Kazuya slipped off his shoes and headed to the stairs. He didn't hear anything and no extra lights were on, so he climbed them and went into his room. Dumping his case on the bed, he dug his phone out of his pocket to see if his parents had sent him a message. They usually did if they weren't going to make it home until later—he had to admit that they did make an effort to be good parents, even if they were wrong-minded about some things.

Dad: Chinese? Want anything different?

He'd sent the text fifteen minutes before so Kazuya figured he had a decent chance of catching him.

Me: Sesame Chicken if you can, thanks.

Me: Chinese donuts.

Dad: On it.

Dad: You do know those are just fried biscuits, right?

Me: Fried and bread is good with me.

Dad: Gotcha. Eggroll?

Me: No, thanks.

Dad: Okay, see you soon.

"I'm home!" Eijun said, closing the door behind himself and locking it.

"Welcome home!" came from the kitchen where his mother was cooking something that smelled really good.

Toeing off his shoes, he picked up his guitar and took it back to his room, setting the case carefully in the corner before heading back into the kitchen.

"Hi, Mom," he said, kissing her cheek. "Whatchu making?"

"Shepherd's pie," she grinned at him and corrected herself. "Technically, it's cottage pie, since it has hamburger instead of ground lamb."

"Whatever you call it, it smells delicious. Do you need any help?"

"Nope, I just have to layer the filling and then it goes in the oven. Pull up a counter and tell me how busking went, I haven't seen you much since Monday." She pulled a baking pan out from underneath the counter and started to assemble the pie.

He pushed himself up onto the countertop. "I know, work's been crazy for you, right?"

"It has, but I'm off the weekend, so that's good," she said, nudging his leg. "No distractions from you, though. What's been going on with you and that pretty boy of yours?"

"Mom!" Eijun whined. "Is that the only thing you took away from that conversation the other day?"

"No, but it amuses me to make you blush," she said with a wink. "How are things, though?"

"They're good! Oh!" he said, remembering. He dug the money out of his pocket and laid it on the counter. "We're getting more money every day. I think we're getting better, too," Eijun laughed. "I don't think we could have been a lot worse."

"You know I don't want to take your money, Ei," she said. "We can afford your lessons."

"I know you can," Eijun argued. "But you shouldn't have to. I want to help; I know you're cutting out your daily coffee run. I don't want you to do that for me, you've sacrificed enough."

"I'll tell you what," she said, putting the saucepan that had held the mashed potatoes in the sink. "I'll hold onto it, put it in the bank. If I find I need it for your lessons, I'll use it. If not, I'll save it for you for later. Deal?"

"Only if you promise you'll start making your coffee runs again," he said.

Chika smiled at him, mentally running down the inexpensive coffee shops near her work. "Fair enough."

"And not the bodega coffee, Starbucks. You love their coffee." Eijun crossed his arms and looked at her, eyes narrowed.

"You've got it, kiddo," she said, both irritated that he saw through her and pleased that he'd grown to be such a caring young man. "Now, tell me about the busking, wouldja?"

"Oh! Before I do, I want—" he cut off as she elbowed him on the way to the oven.

"Excuse me, I thought you were some annoying kid who wasn't answering his mother," she said with a frown.

"No, this is part of it," he said. "I want to ask you about a couple of things."

"What's that?"

"He's invited me over to his house tomorrow to practice. Do you mind if I go?"

"Why would I mind that my son is going to some dude's house that I don't know anything about?" she snarked.

"Not you, too," Eijun rolled his eyes and sighed. "Haruichi already asked me all of this; he even had Ryou do some digging to see if he was who he said he was. He is. His name is Kazuya Miyuki, he's the concertmaster of the orchestra at LaGuardia, and he lives in Chelsea. If you really want to know more, I can send you some articles about him. The ones Ryou found that I did not ask him to look for," Eijun snarked.

"Okay, yes. Please do. Is it alright with his parents?"

"I don't know? He said it was okay, but I'm not sure he's asked them specifically about me."

"When are you going?"

"I was going to be down there about eleven. That gives me time to get the chores done before I have to go."

"Then yes, provided he gets permission from his parents for you to go, you can go."

"Thanks, Mom!" he said with a grin. "Next question."

Chika sighed. "Are we ever going to get to the busking part?"

"Of course, but first. Is it all right if he comes over on Saturday to practice? That way we're not disturbing his parents."

"I don't see why not. As long as he gets permission from his parents and you don't start too early. I'm off, I need my beauty sleep."

"You're beautiful already," Eijun argued, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "And thanks, I appreciate it."

"Also, it will give me a chance to meet this handsome boy of yours and judge for myself."

Eijun waved his hands desperately. "Forget it, practice will only be held at his house," he announced.

"Too late, you have to bring him around," Chika said. "I'll make cinnamon rolls."

"That's...yeah, practice is back on." Eijun squinted at his mother. "Don't you think it's weird that you're worrying this way about your almost seventeen-year-old son? I'm almost an adult. I could see it if I was a girl, but—"

"Eijun Sawamura, I suggest you don't say whatever it is you were about to say," Chika glared at him. "It has nothing to do with your gender or age, even. And everything to do with the fact that you're my child. I'm allowed to worry about you. I'm supposed to worry about you."

"Fair enough," Eijun said, retreating rapidly.

"It's not that I don't trust you, or him, but I know how the world is and I prefer to have you where I can find you."

"I'll give you his address and phone number before I go, okay?"

"Yes, please do," she said. "Now, back to the busking, if you don't mind."

"Oh, yeah! I almost forgot," he said with a grin and started relating everything that had happened in the last few days.

"Dinner's here!" Kazuya heard his father yelling up the steps.

"Coming!" he said, carefully setting his violin in its case and heading down to the kitchen to join him. He trotted around the corner and into the kitchen, pausing a second when he realized that both of his parents were home. This was unusual; his mother normally insisted that they eat a real dinner whenever she was home.

"Hi, Kazuya," Akemi Miyuki said with a sharp smirk, one that he'd seen in the mirror too often. He looked like his father, but his mannerisms—and yes, his personality—came from his mother. She was a brilliant lawyer, abrasive to those who didn't act—or react—as she wanted them to, but she could be charming and diplomatic when she needed those skills.

"Mom, Dad," Kazuya said, greeting them both. "How are you?"

"We're good," Norio said. "We just...well, we both have work we need to take care of later, but we also haven't gotten to see you much this week, so Chinese it is," he gestured at the takeout boxes, while Akemi pulled out a pile of plates. "Help yourself, there's plenty of everything."

Kazuya was both suspicious and touched. Chinese was his favorite take-out, but he wondered what they were really up to. "Thank you," he said, taking a plate and starting to fill it up. "Where did you want to eat?"

"The nook is fine," Akemi said and his suspicions ratcheted up a notch. He mentally shrugged and took his loaded plate over there, sliding into his usual spot.

"Water or Coke?" Norio asked, head in the fridge.

"Coke, please," Kazuya said.

"You shouldn't drink caffeine at night," Akemi fussed at him. "It'll keep you up.

"That's the plan," Kazuya said with a grin. "I have to work on some orchestra stuff before Saturday."

"You could do it tomorrow?" she suggested.

"I have plans," he told her, before continuing, "That reminds me, I want to have a friend over to practice tomorrow, is that alright with you?"

"Who is it? Kuramochi?" Norio asked.

"No, actually it's Eijun," Kazuya said.

Akemi frowned. "Eijun? I haven't met him, have I? Who is he, someone from your orchestra?"

"No, he's a guitar player I met while I was busking Monday," Kazuya said, waiting for her outburst. Or questions, he didn't know which was going to be worse.

"You want to bring some random person into our house?" Akemi asked. "What do you know about him?"

"He's a junior at GW, was a baseball player—a really good one, according to the article Mochi found about him—who hurt himself last year and is no longer able to play, so he took up the guitar."

"I see," Akemi said. "Where does he live?"

"Riverdale."

"The Bronx?" she asked, and Kazuya could see her nose flare a little. "You know that those people—"

"Now, Akemi, you can't possibly judge the whole borough as if they were all the same people." Norio chuckled, patting her hand. "Kazuya seems to have been having fun with him; we talked about it the other day as well."

"I am, and he's good. Rough, but talented," Kazuya said, nodding at his mother.

"Well, if you say so. But I don't know about your taste in friends—take Youichi as an example. That boy is nothing like us," Akemi said. "I know you'll see it one day."

"Mochi's a good friend," Kazuya said, starting down a well-worn path.

Akemi opened her mouth to argue when she felt a tap on her hand and she looked at her husband, who shook his head. She huffed out a breath and changed tack.

"You can bring your friend by—what did you say his name is? Eli?"

“Eijun, actually. Eijun Sawamura."

"Is he Japanese?" she asked.

"At least half, his grandparents immigrated here when his father was a baby. I don't know what nationality his mother is," Kazuya explained.

Akemi nodded. "Well, at least he's got a decent heritage, then. I can assume he knows how to behave."

"Wow," Norio said. "Judgmental much?"

"I'm sorry," she said, looking somewhat abashed. "I just worry about the influence the US is having on you, Kazuya. I've spoken to your father and I understand that you want to put off getting married until you've completed college. That makes perfect sense, but don't you at least want to meet the girls you can choose from?"

"I don't, if I'm being honest," Kazuya said. "I've told you I don't like girls, and I don't know why you don't believe me."

"We do," Akemi said. "But you don't know if this is the way you'll be forever, you're still young."

Kazuya nodded. "I am, but I think I know this, though." He paused, considering. "What's going to convince you that I'm really gay?"

"We don't think you're lying or anything," Norio said. "It's just that these things have a way of going away as you age and figure yourself out. We just don't want you labeling yourself too soon."

"That's fair, but I don't really think you're going to believe me when I tell you it hasn't changed for me," Kazuya said.

"You have a valid concern," Akemi said. "Let's just table this and come back to it when you're out of school. But please remember, Kazuya, that it's your responsibility to hold up the family tradition."

"How can I forget?" Kazuya said under his breath. He was feeling like he was being crushed under the weight of expectation. "One more thing. Eijun invited me to practice at his house on Saturday. Do you have any objection?"

"I don't like you going off to strange boys’ houses, especially in The Bronx," Akemi said.

Norio stepped in, shooting Kazuya a grin. "He's a grown boy, Akemi, nearly eighteen. You have to trust he can take care of himself."

"You're...not wrong," Akemi conceded. "I want contact information, though. Name and phone number. And address. And you have to make sure that his parents don't mind you practicing there."

"I can do all that," Kazuya said.

"When do you expect him tomorrow?" Norio asked.

"Around eleven, why?"

"I don't have to be in until the afternoon. I think I'll stick around and meet this guitarist of yours."

"Dad, you don't have—"

"It'd be good for me to meet this boy, don't you think? Then your mother would be more at ease."

"You're right," Kazuya said. "That's fine."

"Great! Glad we had this chat," Akemi rose and picked up her plate. "I'm on dishes, hand me your plate, please."

Kazuya did so quickly, wanting to get out of there and away before she started in again.

"Thank you for dinner, and have a good night," he said, before ducking out and up the stairs.

Behind him, he heard his mother say, "That went well. I don't know about this new kid, though." His steps slowed and he listened closely.

"I'll meet him, let you know what he's like," Norio said. "But I'm pretty sure I know how he is. It'll be fine."

"I'm trusting you with that, then," she said, and Kazuya continued on his way upstairs.

me: You busy tomorrow?

moochy:  Not really, why?

me: Wanna come by, practice with us?

moochy: And meet Guitar-boy? I'm there.

me: That's great, he'll be here about eleven.

moochy: I'll be there.

me: It's a rainbow tonight. Pastels.

eijun plays guitar: why?

me: Easter is this weekend, so I guess it's an Easter Egg.

eijun plays guitar: that's so cool! pic?

me: <image uploading>

eijun plays guitar: pretty!

me: Yeah, it is.

eijun plays guitar: mom wants me to make sure it's okay with ur 'rents that i come over tomorrow

me: Yup, I asked them. They were fine with it.

eijun plays guitar: cool! see u then!

me: Sleep well, Eijun. I'll see you tomorrow.

eijun plays guitar: 'night Kazuya

Chapter Text

Me: electric or acoustic?

Stringmaster: Huh? Oh.

Stringmaster: I have an acoustic guitar, bring your electric.

Me: okay cool i'll bring that and my amp

Stringmaster: I have one, you don't have to.

Me: are we playing this afternoon i might need it then

Stringmaster: You're right, mine's not portable.

Me: kk see you soon

Eijun packed away his guitar in the carrying case, slipping his phone and wallet into his pockets, and headed out. It was ten o'clock, he knew he needed about an hour to get to the 18th street station, and Kazuya didn't live far from there. Heading down the street to the train station, he found himself thinking about the things that he'd learned about Kazuya and about the conversation they'd had the day before. His reasoning had made perfect sense; Eijun understood the need to enjoy the thing you love. He'd seen the same thing with baseball. Once you start playing seriously, you can lose sight of the joy that the game brought you in the past, and that's something he'd had to work on. He had tried to make sure he took the time to have fun, not just practice to get better.

Climbing the stairs to the platform, he waited for the train, shivering a little in the chilly spring air. He zippered up his hoodie, stuffing his hands in his pockets. The train arrival board said it would be five minutes, so he pulled out his phone and headphones, cueing up the playlist they'd compiled. He wanted to work on a couple of new songs that were going to be difficult to get right practicing in the subway, so he set them on repeat, trying to make sure he remembered his part. Kazuya caught on so fast, it was intimidating.

A little.

It was also pretty awesome, but he'd never tell him that.

When the train arrived he boarded, and the trip was spent alternating between the three songs he really wanted them to work on.

Kazuya checked the tuning on his violin for the second time that morning before checking his guitar for the third time. He'd gotten up early and cleaned his room, which was a minor miracle in itself, and made sure there were juice and coke in the fridge. His father watched with amusement as he puttered.

"You sure this is just a friend? You're acting like you're trying to impress him," Norio teased his usually imperturbable son.

"Yes, Dad," Kazuya said with a sigh. "I just...well, I want him to feel welcome. We had a discussion yesterday when he asked if he was a charity case, and I don't want him to feel like that. Honestly, I've had more fun playing with him than I've had with music for a long time, and I want to keep doing it."

"That's good, I know you've been feeling the grind lately," Norio said. "Are you sure he's not into boys?"

"I have no idea," Kazuya said plainly. "He's been in a high-level sports program, so even if he was, he's probably pretty closeted. And I don't blame him, that's a completely different environment than LaGuardia."

"Yeah, that's pretty much the complete opposite, huh?" Norio agreed. "Well, for my part, I'll do my best to make sure he feels welcome. If you feel this strongly about him, I'm sure he's something special."

Kazuya swiped at another imaginary stain on the countertop. "I think he is, he's got a lot of talent. The potential is staggering, but it's up to him how far he wants to go."

"That's fair, but Kaz—" Norio started before the bell rang. "There he is."

"No, I think that's Mochi," Kazuya said. "I asked him to come by early. I think he and Eijun would get along well, they're both into classic rock."

"Meeting all the family at once, huh?" Norio teased some more. "It must be serious."

Kazuya sighed. "Don't, okay? Please?"

"Sorry, I'll behave," Norio said, raising his hands. "I'll even spring for pizza in a bit if you want."

"That would be great," Kazuya agreed as he headed out of the kitchen and to the front door.

Opening it, he found Mochi standing there, as expected. "Hi Mochi, come on in." Standing back, he held the door open to let his friend in.

"Heya, Kaz," Kuramochi said as he stepped into the house. He shed his shoes and jacket, hanging it on a hook in the foyer. "Where's the fresh meat?"

"He's not supposed to be here until eleven," Kazuya said. "And knowing him, he won't be early."

They walked into the kitchen, where Mochi greeted Norio. "Good morning, Mr. M.," he said politely.

"Good morning, Youichi," Norio said. "Your hair is looking particularly green this morning."

"Thank you, sir," Kuramochi said, unsure how to answer that statement. "I hope you're well."

"I'm great, thank you for asking." He stood up straight, heading out of the kitchen. "I'll be in my study if you need me."

"Okay, Dad," Kazuya said.

"When's the wonder boy showing up?" Kuramochi asked.

Kazuya snorted and dug in the cupboard for a bowl to put the chips he'd pulled out in. "Eleven. He'll probably be right on time, so in a few minutes. Did you bring your sticks?"

"And my snare, in case I decide I want to go with you two."

"What if you're not invited?" Kazuya asked with a smirk.

"Why wouldn't I be? Is this a date or something?"

"Maybe," Kazuya said, popping a chip in his mouth. He headed towards the bathroom when the doorbell rang. "That's him, can you let him in, please?"

"Sure," Kuramochi said with a grin.

Eijun stood on the stoop, waiting for Kazuya to answer the door. He'd made decent time and had arrived right at eleven.

The door slowly opened and he was faced with a boy close to his own age, with green hair slicked back in a fauxhawk similar to his father's pompadour.

"Can I help you?"

"Is Kazuya here?"

"Who are you to intrude on this family?" the person asked. "Master Kazuya isn't expecting anyone. Begone." He stepped back and started to close the door before Eijun stuck his foot in the way.

"Wait," Eijun said. "You're...Mochi, right? Kazuya's friend, the drummer?"

"What? No, I work for the family, young man, and if you don't allow me to close the door—"

"Mochi, what are you doing? Just let him in," came from somewhere in the bowels of the house and Kuramochi's frown morphed into a grin.

"Hi, I'm Kuramochi, but you can call me Kuramochi," he said. "I've been hearing a lot about you, and I'll admit that I'm curious. You've got Kazuya interested, and that's not an easy thing to do."

"Hi, I'm Eijun. And you're kind of a jerk, aren't you?" Eijun walked past him into the house.

Kuramochi grinned and followed him. "You've been around Kazuya all week, and yet you accuse me of being a jerk?"

"Well, he's an asshole but he wouldn't treat a stranger—" Eijun cut off as Kuramochi laughed and slung an arm around his neck.

"You're not so freaked out about this house now, are you?" he asked, grin wide.

"You...how did you?"

"I live in Brooklyn," Kuramochi said. "My mom's a waitress. I know how it is."

"Are you two done bonding?" Kazuya asked, stepping into the hallway. "If so, come on in the kitchen and get a drink and we'll head upstairs."

Eijun followed him into the room, trying not to feel overawed at the size of the space. Kuramochi stepped up beside him and patted him on the back. "It's fine, he's the same asshole, you'll see."

Giving him a slight grin, he stepped into the room and moved over to Kazuya.

"Water or soda?"

"Water's good," Eijun said and Kazuya passed him a bottle.

"Moch?"

"Dr. Pepper if you have it."

"You know, for all her complaining, Mom always has Dr. Pepper in the fridge, even though you're the only one who drinks it," Kazuya said, handing over the can.

"She can't help herself," Kuramochi said. "She loves me."

"I don't know if I'd go that far," came from the hallway behind them and Eijun spun to see a man who was clearly Kazuya's father standing in the doorway. "But I do think she appreciates some of your finer qualities." He stepped into the room and held his hand out to Eijun. "You must be Eijun? I'm Norio Miyuki."

"Eijun Sawamura," he said, taking the outstretched hand. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Miyuki."

"You too. I wanted to meet the boy that's had Kazuya enjoying music again."

"Dad!" Kazuya protested. "You're exaggerating."

"Am I?" He arched an eyebrow. "I suppose I must be." He picked up the briefcase in the corner. "I've been called into the office, I have to go. Kazuya, don't forget to order pizza when you boys get hungry. I'll be working late tonight and your mother has a late meeting, so if we’re not home for dinner, warm yourself something up. Takeout only once a day, got it?”

“Yes, Dad,” Kazuya agreed.

“Okay, it was nice to meet you, Eijun. I hope to get to chat with you in the future. Youichi, behave.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. M,” Kuramochi said.

“Nice to meet you too,” Eijun chimed in.

Norio looked at the boys in his kitchen and smirked at his son. “You’re mother’s going to have kittens, you know this.” He ruffled his son’s hair. “I approve.” Whistling, he headed out of the room and down the hallway. They didn’t say anything until the front door closed and the key turned in the lock.

Kazuya looked at Kuramochi and they started to laugh while Eijun was just really confused about what had happened.

“Sorry, sorry,” Kazuya said, sobering. “My dad and mom don’t always agree about what’s proper for their son to do, and he always enjoys things that make her question her prejudices. It’s kind of a thing for them, but neither of them takes it too far.”

Eijun shrugged. “I get that, parents are weird sometimes. If it’s going to get you into trouble, I can leave.”

“No, not at all,” Kazuya said. “They’re fine with you being here.”

Kuramochi spoke up, “He’s right, they are. They’ve even gotten used to me, and I’m nowhere near Mrs. M’s idea of suitable company for her son.”

“Still, if—”

“Seriously, it’s fine,” Kazuya said. “Do we want to take anything else?” He grabbed his bottle of water and the bowl of chips.

“I’ve got my soda, why don’t you grab a couple of bottles of water,” Kuramochi suggested to Eijun.

“Of course,” he said, getting a few more from the fridge. “Ready whenever you are.”

“Upstairs, then,” Kazuya said.

Kazuya led them into the room to the right of the stairs, waving at the room to the left. “That’s my bedroom,” he said, pushing open the door in front of himself. “And this is my music room.”

Eijun followed him in and looked around, mesmerized. “All of this is yours?” The room ran much of the length of the brownstone, hardwood floors gleaming under the oriental rugs thrown everywhere. There was soundboard on the walls, between the polished wooden beams, with a row of windows along one wall. In the back of the room, there were several bookshelves full of what appeared to be scores and sheet music. Instruments in cases lined the walls, most of which Eijun could identify, but there were some mysteries that he itched to explore. Near the front of the room was an electric session setup, keyboards and drums hooked up and ready to go. In a stand to one side, part of the group, was something that looked to Eijun to be an electric violin...but it had six strings, so he figured it was something he’d never heard of.

“Yup,” Kazuya said, setting the bowl of chips and water on a table well away from the instruments.

“Crazy, right?” Kuramochi said, depositing his cans beside Kazuya’s water bottle. “Lifestyles of the rich and famous.”

“Not really, it’s just that they really want me to be a musician,” Kazuya said.

“Mine do too, but,” Kuramochi gestured. “Hey, it’s no big, you just need to acknowledge it exists. It doesn’t make you better than us and you don’t act like it does, but it’s a fact.”

“Fair enough,” Kazuya said.

Eijun placed the water bottles on the table. “I thought you didn’t have an electric guitar,” he said, motioning to what was clearly a guitar case against the wall.

“I...well. That one’s not playable right now, it doesn’t have strings and needs some repairs,” Kazuya said running a hand through his hair. “It belonged to my uncle.”

Eijun nodded, accepting the explanation. “Alright. Where should I plug in?” he asked, laying his guitar on a chair and taking his backpack off and setting it on the floor in the corner.

“Over here,” Kazuya motioned to an amp to one side of the drum set.

“You haven’t gotten them to get you a real drum kit yet?” Kuramochi complained.

“They won’t, you know that,” Kazuya said. “It was hard enough to get them to get this one.”

“I know,” Kuramochi said with a sigh. “I don’t like them, I feel like I’m playing Rockband when I play these.”

“Yes, yes, we all know you’re a hipster. But I’d like to see you playing a regular kit when your mom’s sleeping and you need to practice,” Kazuya snarked.  

“Shut up,” Kuramochi said, kicking absently at him. “Your ‘rents are gone, I’m turning these up.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” Kazuya said. “Eijun, let me know when you’re set.” He picked up the instrument Eijun hadn’t been able to identify and flipped a switch on the front.

“What is that?” Eijun asked. “It looks like an electric violin, but there are too many strings.”

Kazuya nodded, “You’re right, it’s an electric violin. Actually, it’s called a Viper, and it’s an electric violin with two lower strings that make it able to play notes in viola and cello range. It’s also got a strap that attaches it to your body and makes it easier to play, there’s no chin rest to deal with.”

“That’s cool! Why don’t you bring that with you to busk?”

“Because it’s worth almost four thousand dollars,” Kazuya said. “I don’t take it out of the house much, but it’s my favorite thing to play.”

“Yeah, you should leave it home,” Eijun said, eyeing the instrument warily. “In fact, maybe you should leave it in the case.”

“It’s fine,” Kazuya said with a chuckle. “It’s not that breakable, really.” He ran his bow across the strings and smiled. “Are you all set?”

“Give me a sec,” Eijun said, slinging his strap over his head. He ran through his tuning and nodded, while Kuramochi adjusted his volume and settings until he was satisfied.

Kazuya slanted Eijun a grin. “Purple Haze?”

“What else?” he said, and started playing. They changed parts a time or two, they'd gotten comfortable enough with the song to switch it up and with Kuramochi providing a steady beat, it was even easier.

Finished, they grinned at each other.

"What's next?" Kuramochi asked, bouncing on his seat a little and twirling his drumsticks.

"What did we want to work on? Misty Mountain Hop ?"

Eijun glared at him. "You just want me to sing."

"Well, maybe? If you can. But I thought we were going to figure it out?"

" Misty Mountain Hop it is," Kuramochi said. "I'll get the mic." He jumped out from behind the drums and started towards a cupboard.

"Wait," Eijun objected. "We don't even know if I can sing, we should maybe see if we can figure the song out first?"

"You're right," Kazuya said. "Let's play some other things we know, get good and warmed up and see if we can smooth out some of the issues we were having, and then sit down and work through it and the others on acoustic rather than electric. A little more relaxed."

Kuramochi sighed and headed back towards his stool, grumbling.

"Here's one for you, Moch," Kazuya said. "You get to figure the drum part out."

"What? You think I don't know the drumming?"

"Probably not, since I don't think there is any," Kazuya said, starting the runs for their next oldest song, Hall of the Mountain King.

Kuramochi grinned and took up the beat, with Eijun following along. They continued to play, hitting every song in their repertoire once before Kazuya called a halt.

"Let me order the pizza, it's a good time to take a break," he said, sliding his violin back into its stand and cracking open the last of the water. "We should go downstairs for a bit, get more drinks and wait for the food."

Gathering up the empties, they all headed down, putting them in the recycling. Eijun and Kuramochi slid into the kitchen nook together while Kazuya ordered the pizza.  

“I remember watching you play, last year. I’m sorry you got injured, you were really good,” Kuramochi said.

“You follow baseball?” Eijun perked up.

“Yeah, when I can. Mets fan, so I watch the local teams in hopes of seeing something worth watching.”

“I know, the last few years have been brutal.” Eijun commiserated.

“I can’t imagine being that good at something and then losing it,” Kuramochi said. “I’m impressed with what you’ve been able to do with music; I don’t know that I’d be able to recover that quickly. You’re not half bad.”

“Thanks,” Eijun said. “I’m glad I found something else to occupy my time and attention.”

“How did you learn so much about classic rock?” Kuramochi asked. “That’s not usually the stuff I hear pumping at games.”

Eijun grimaced. “You’re right, it’s not. But my dad was in a band back in the day and he’s always been very involved in my musical education. He’s the one who taught me to play when I was younger and when I picked it back up as PT, he worked with me until I outgrew him.”

“And you’ve been playing seriously how long?”

“Four months or so.”

“I’m impressed, then, that’s not a long time,” Kuramochi said.

Eijun shrugged. “I tend to get focused when I’m really into something.”

“Well, good job getting Kaz out of his head and into the classic stuff, I’m always pushing him that way but he can be a bit of a stick in the mud.”

“You said intractable asshole wrong,” Kazuya said, sliding into the booth beside Kuramochi.

Kuramochi snorted, “You’re not wrong about that.”

“It’s one of my finer points,” Kazuya said with a laugh.

“Are you guys busking this afternoon?”

“Not sure,” Kazuya said, exchanging a glance with Eijun. “We’re kinda playing it by ear.”

"What should we work on next?” Eijun asked.

Kazuya shrugged. “You have the playlist?”

Eijun pulled out his phone and queued the list, passing it across the table for them to look at. “I’d kinda like to work on the Tull song, maybe one of the Panic ones.”

"Tull?" Kuramochi asked, dragging the phone closer. " Thick as a Brick ? Why not Aqualung or Bungle in the Jungle ?"

"Those were bigger hits, but I thought they were too big to do in the subway. Thick as a Brick is a little smaller."

"He's right," Kazuya agreed. "I don't know if we could handle Aqualung. This one's better for us."

"Fair enough." Kuramochi said. "But why—" And they were off, the three boys at the table dissecting the choices on the song list.

A few minutes in, Kazuya found a pad and pen, and started taking notes.

By the time the pizza came, there was an “Oh, call me Mochi already, idiot.”

By the time it was gone, they were Mochi and Ei and Kaz.

They never did get to the subway, instead spending the time reviewing every song on the list and debating its merits as well as possible arrangements.

Kazuya was fascinated, he imagined that this was the kind of debate that had been held centuries ago about some of the pieces he knew so well that had established interpretations, even when there were no indications in the sheet music. The idea that they’d be able to have this kind of conversation was seductive, he knew he didn’t want to be a rock musician, but maybe there was a way to use this in a way when he did decide his path. He wasn’t sure, but he was sure that he was going to do what he could to include discussions of interpretation in whatever he did.

Eijun was a little overwhelmed, but he was ecstatic. He’d never had the chance to discuss music this deeply with anyone, his father was willing to discuss things but more often than not he’d start reminiscing, which was fascinating, but not what he was hoping for. Nobody in his circle of friends played anything but baseball, so there wasn’t any help there, either. This chat with kids of his age group was everything he’d ever wanted. He was learning so much just in this one conversation, listening to these boys who’d spent much of their lives learning music and how to make it, contributing where he could and being brought into this group where he was accepted and his ideas taken seriously, even with the teasing.

As for Kuramochi, he was thrilled to find someone his age with the same appreciation for classic rock. The fact that he was endearingly earnest was a plus, easy to rile up but good-natured about it a major bonus. The kicker was how much he and Kazuya seemed to get along. Kuramochi well knew that he was Kazuya’s only close friend, something that bothered him more than it probably should. He knew his friend was not a solitary person, he’d just gotten used to it after the mess that was his childhood. Eijun didn’t seem to mind his occasionally abrasive personality, giving as good as he got when he was able. His love of music and willingness to learn were evident and Kuramochi found himself explaining things more thoroughly than he’d ever thought he would.

It helped that he could see that Eijun had as big a crush on Kazuya as Kazuya had on him.

Kazuya pushed the empty pizza box to one side. “Pizza’s gone. You ready to try out some of this?”

“Yes, what should we start with?”

“Depends on if you’re ready to sing, Eijun,” Kuramochi snarked.

Eijun sighed. “If you want.”

“Oh, yeah,” Kuramochi said, slanting a grin at Kazuya. “He wants.”

Whistling, he trotted up the stairs, satisfied with the mayhem he left behind.

eijun plays guitar: hey, thanks again for having me over, it was great

Me: Home already?

eijun plays guitar: yeah!

Me: Good. I think we got a lot done, I hope Mochi didn’t make you too crazy.

eijun plays guitar: no, he was fine

eijun plays guitar: i just didn’t know how to read him at first, but he’s pretty cool

eijun plays guitar: kinda a jerk but not in a bad way

Me: You’re not wrong, he can be an asshole. But he’s also a good friend.

eijun plays guitar: how long have u known him?

eijun plays guitar: if u want to tell me

Me: It’s fine. We met in elementary school, we both were in a music magnet program and were kinda shoved together because we were both Japanese. I think. But we didn’t get to be friends until later in that year when I was…

Me: Well, I was getting the shit kicked out of me because I was a little brat and told the older kids that they sucked and needed to practice more. He saw what was happening and stepped in, stood by me and threatened them.

Me: They ran off and left me alone after that, and we became good friends.

eijun plays guitar: that sucks! i can’t believe...no, yes i can, kids r assholes

eijun plays guitar: im sorry for the problems, tho

eijun plays guitar: good thing u found a friend

Me: Yeah, we’ve been best friends for a long time. He liked you, even if you couldn’t tell.

eijun plays guitar: good! i liked him too

eijun plays guitar: you can give him my number if u wanna or he asks for it

Me: What makes you think he’d want to talk to you?

eijun plays guitar: he’s friends with u, it could be a step up for him

Me: Wow. That was pretty good. 8 out of 10 for the insultometer. Good job.

eijun plays guitar: jerk

eijun plays guitar: when you get close 2morrow, let me know and i’ll meet u at the train station.

Me: Works for me. When?

eijun plays guitar: u come above ground at dyckman, text me then.

Me: kk.

Me: It’s white tonite.

eijun plays guitar: its good friday maybe they dont do anything for that

eijun plays guitar: around here does the churches all do walks to honor the day

eijun plays guitar: someone carries a cross and everything

Me: Really?

eijun plays guitar: yes, this part of the city has a lot of catholic people

eijun plays guitar: dominicans and puerto ricans

eijun plays guitar: its pretty cool

Me: Sounds interesting. You’ll have to show me around.

eijun plays guitar: i will

eijun plays guitar: see you 2morrow!

eijun plays guitar: can’t wait to start on some of those songs

Me: Yeah, me too.

Me: Goodnight Eijun.

eijun plays guitar: goodnight kazuya

Chapter Text

Kazuya double-checked his backpack before slinging it over one shoulder and picking up his violin case to trot down the stairs. He dropped the lot by the front door before heading into the kitchen to grab a bowl of cereal.

“Good morning, Kazuya,” his mother said from the nook where she sat drinking a cup of coffee with his father.

“Hi, Mom, Dad,” he greeted them, pulling a bowl and a box of cereal from the cupboard. Filling his bowl and adding some milk, he joined them at the table.

“How was practice yesterday?” Norio asked, taking a bite of his toast. “We got home late last night and didn’t see you.”

“Good, thanks,” Kazuya answered. “Mochi and Eijun got along well, they bonded over classic rock. We had a lot of fun.”

“How was he,” Akemi asked Norio. “You met Eijun, right?”

“I did,” Norio agreed. “He seemed like a good kid. I didn’t get to talk to him much but he seemed very enthusiastic.” He grinned at Kazuya across the table. “Also, very Japanese. I thought you’d like to know that.”

Akemi snorted into her coffee. Delicately. “So is Youichi.”

“Hey, he’s a good kid, too,” Norio said. “He even said to thank you for always having Dr. Pepper in the fridge, since he’s the only one who drinks it.”

Kazuya raised his eyebrow at the clear exaggeration but didn’t say a word.

“Well, it’s only polite to cater to your guest’s preferences when you can,” Akemi said primly, stirring her coffee. “It’s not like I want to adopt him or something.”

“You know, I think he’s growing on you,” Norio said, prodding at her a little.

She colored slightly and turned her head away. “I don’t think so,” she argued. “It’s just common decency.”

“Anyway, you’re off to Eijun’s this morning?” Norio asked.

Kazuya nodded, shoveling the cereal into his mouth. He swallowed and spoke. “Yes, sir. We’re going to practice at his house.”

“You said he lives in Riverdale, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, have fun with your friend, but don’t forget about the important things.” She set her cup down and met his gaze. “You can play around with this busking stuff all you want, it’s a good experience for you—but at the end of the day, you’re going to be behind a piano. Remember that.”

Kazuya opened his mouth to protest, but at a shake of the head from his father, he subsided. Pushing back from the table, he picked up his bowl and headed to the sink, rinsing it out and sticking it in the dishwasher.

“I’m heading out.” He dug a piece of paper out of his pocket. “I don’t know when I’ll be home, but here’s Eijun’s number and address if you need it.”

He headed out into the hallway, trying to ignore the furious whispering.

“What? He needs to get his head out of the clouds.”

“It’s not helping. You know he’s only going to get more stubborn the more you push.”

“I knew it was a mistake to let him learn all these other instruments, they’re a distraction,” Akemi hissed. “He should have stuck to the piano only.”

Kazuya sighed, tossing his backpack over his shoulder and looping his violin across. Opening the door, he closed it firmly behind himself and bounded down the stairs, heading towards the station.

me: On my way.

eijun plays guitar: cool!

eijun plays guitar: get on the sixth car, that will drop you off near the stairs

eijun plays guitar: see you soon!

me: yup, see you soon.

Standing on the platform, waiting for his train, Kazuya replayed the conversation in his head. He was so tired of the arguing, but he was also determined to live his life the way he wanted to. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he straightened his shoulders and pulled out his phone, turning on his headphones and queueing up the playlist of songs they’d talked about the night before. He wanted to review their notes as he listened in order to make sure he understood where and how the changes were going to be made. Closing his eyes, he let himself get lost in the music and allowed the stress of that morning to wash away, replaced with the growing anticipation of time spent with Eijun. He knew they’d both be going back to their normal school schedule and their practice time would be curtailed. In fact, thinking about the next month of school he didn’t know when he’d have enough free time for much of anything, with practice and competitions ramping up.

Maybe Eijun would be able to come down sometimes, if he wasn’t as busy.

Pushing that to the back of his mind as yet another worry for later, he gave a self-deprecating grin, admitting, if only to himself, that he was putting far too many issues on the back burner and something was going to spring on him when he didn’t expect it.

And that was yet another bridge he’d cross when he came to it.

Grabbing a seat on the train, he continued to listen to the songs, this time actually looking at the notes he’d taken.

Eijun was trying, with little success, to pay attention to the show his mother was watching. He kept sneaking peeks at his phone, waiting for Kazuya to text him, and the ghost hunters getting scared by what were clearly normal sounds did not amuse him as much as they usually did. After a few minutes, Chika paused the show.

“Eijun, what’s wrong? Worried he’s going to get lost?”

Eijun nodded, then shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said, face falling.

“You said you had a good time yesterday, right?”

“Yes,” Eijun sighed. “I just—”

“Am intimidated to have someone over to your apartment that lives in their own brownstone in Chelsea? Who you also kinda sorta have a crush on?”

“No...well, yes. Kind of,” Eijun shrugged. “Not the crush part, but the townhouse part. I’m not ashamed of you or anything and I feel like the worst kid ever, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she said, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close for a hug. “I get where you’re coming from, but we should talk about this, make sure it doesn’t affect anything for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Has Kazuya ever done anything to indicate he thinks he’s somehow superior to you?” she asked.

“Well, yeah,” Eijun rolled his eyes. “Every day. But not because of money, because he’s kinda an a— I mean jerk.”

“Okay, that’s fine then. What about this other friend of his. Mochi?”

“Yeah?”

“Is he from a well off family?”

“No, his mom’s a waitress and they live in Brooklyn,” Eijun said.

“Does he treat him any differently?”

“No, and he doesn’t even think he’s that well off. Even though his dad’s a surgeon and his mom’s a lawyer and they live in that massive house.”

“So it seems to me that the problem isn’t with him so much, but with you?”

“Yeah,” Eijun hung his head. “I don’t know, it’s weird, you know?”

“What, that a guy would want to be friends with you? Because his family has money?”

Eijun shrugged. “I guess?”

“Eijun, you have to decide if this is going to affect your friendship. It sounds like it doesn’t matter to Kazuya, and you’re going to have to figure out if it matters that much to you.” Chika pushed his hair back out of his face. “You’re a good kid and worth the world to me. The thing you have to think about is if Kazuya is more than his money, if you can see him without that coloring your behavior.”

Eijun frowned and thought about all the things they’d done in the last few days, the laughs and the music and the growing...something...that seemed to be just starting to make itself known. He considered what his life would be like if he stopped being Kazuya’s friend, and found himself almost physically recoiling from that idea.

“I can. The visit yesterday freaked me out, I wasn’t expecting his house to be that big. Did I tell you he has a floor to himself? With a music room that’s soundproofed so he can practice whatever instrument he wants, whenever he wants?”

“Does he? That must come in handy, I know it’s hard for you sometimes.”

“Naw, I’ve got headphones, I’m fine,” Eijun leaned into her and hugged her shoulders. “I think it’s soundproofed because of Mochi, he plays the drums and that’s not Kazuya’s mom’s idea of real music.” Kissing her cheek, he grinned at her. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Anytime you need someone to help you work through things, I’m your huckleberry.” She stood up and ruffled his hair. “You might want to fix that before you go get your friend. I need to finish up the cinnamon rolls.”

“Thanks, Mom,” he deadpanned, ducking into his bathroom to try to tame the wavy mess that was his hair.

Kaz: I’m at Dyckman

Me: Get off at 231, I’ll meet you there.

Kaz: Got it.

Eijun sat on a bench, waiting for Kazuya’s train to pull into the station. He had the echoes of his conversation with his mother running through his mind and he allowed it to sink in, let the words and the meaning lodge itself in his brain, doing his best to internalize the lessons so he didn’t treat Kazuya any differently than he had so far. His growing up with money was no more his fault than Eijun’s lack, and that was the truth of the matter. It didn’t change who he was and Eijun determined not to let it affect how he acted around his friend.

Resolved, he stood and watched as the train arrived.

Chika heard the front door open and paused to listen.

“Mom, we’re home!” Eijun yelled.

She heard an unfamiliar snicker, followed by “inside voice, Eijun!” and the sound of Eijun’s sputtering. Smiling to herself, she felt her shoulders relax listening to the banter; it appeared that Eijun’s description of Kazuya was correct. She was going to watch closely, of course, but she thought that maybe this boy would be good for Eijun, help him get out of the slump he’d been in since he’d been injured.

The boys entered the dining room and Chika stepped out of the kitchen to greet them.

“Hi, boys. Cinnamon rolls are in the oven, give them an hour or so to bake and get frosted.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Eijun said. He motioned at the boy at his side. “Mom, this is Kazuya Miyuki. Kaz, my mom, Chika Sawamura.”

Kazuya smiled at her and bobbed his head. “Thank you for allowing me into your home, Mrs. Sawamura.”

“You’re more than welcome,” Chika said with a returning smile. “I’ve heard good things about you from Eijun, I’m happy he found someone to join him busking.”

“I’m glad too,” Kazuya said. “It’s been more fun than anything else I’ve done recently.”

“That’s good to know.” She indicated the kitchen. “You boys help yourself to whatever you’d like to drink. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

“Okay, Mom,” Eijun said, leading Kazuya towards his room. “Call us when the cinnamon rolls are ready.”

“Will do,” she said, heading into the living room to continue watching her show and doing her best to eavesdrop on what was happening on the other side of the wall.

Eijun pushed open his door and waved Kazuya into his room. “Here we are,” he said, kicking a sock he’d missed under his bed. “Sit anywhere.”

Kazuya set his backpack in a corner and inspected the collection of photographs Eijun had hanging on his wall. “How old were you in this?” he asked, pointing to a picture of Eijun in a dirt-covered uniform grinning wider than Kazuya thought humanly possible.

Eijun glanced over. “That was my first game, I was six. I was determined to be a pitcher, but I was really bad.”

“You were six, though.”

“True enough,” Eijun said. “I loved it, though. Still do, if I’m being honest.”

“I understand,” Kazuya agreed. “I have a similar picture, but it’s after my first violin recital. I was eight. It was then I figured out that I wanted to play it for the rest of my life. I’d played the piano for a few years already and been in several recitals, but the violin was different. Music I made with it always feels better than the piano.”

Eijun grinned. “It’s good to find that stuff, you know? What resonates. I was the same way about baseball.” His face fell and his hand inadvertently went to rub his elbow.

“I’m sorry, Eijun,” Kazuya said, turning away from the wall and looking at him. “It sucks, what happened to you.”

“It does, but that’s life, you know?” Eijun opened a case and pulled out an acoustic that Kazuya hadn’t seen before and perched on the bed. “You can use the desk chair, that’s probably better for playing the violin. It adjusts up and down, so move it however you need it.”

“That’s a beautiful guitar, I don’t think I’ve seen it before,” Kazuya said, accepting the change in focus and sitting in the chair, reaching for his case.

“No, I don’t think you have,” Eijun said, running his hand reverentially down the side of the guitar body. “It was my father’s. The one I bring out with me is the one he bought me when I was younger; this one was his when he was trying to become a star. It’s a Martin D-18e, and if I lost it or it got damaged, I’d never forgive myself.”

“I get that. Even though I don’t use it, I have my great uncle’s guitar. It’s old, though, he bought it during the fifties.” Kazuya pulled out his violin and checked the tuning. “Does it sound anything like it looks?”

Eijun ran through his own tuning and Kazuya nodded.

“Yup, sounds amazing.”

“Better than my regular one, that’s for sure.”

“You’re right, but yours is fine, honestly,” Kazuya drew his bow across a string to help with the adjustments. “I have a better violin than this one, but I don’t take it out around the city, either, just concerts and recitals and stuff.”

“Not the Viper?”

No, not the Viper,” Kazuya chuckled. “I can imagine their faces if I ever showed up with that. The people who run the orchestral department would probably have kittens if I did.”

“Not ones for change, huh?”

“Not if it happened after 1900, nope.”

Eijun snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, I guess that would leave the Viper out.”

“So, I was thinking,” Kazuya said. “We should work on the Tull song.”

“You really want me to sing?”

“I do, you have a good voice. It would be nice to have a third element. We don’t have to have vocals with everything, but we can have some.”

Eijun sighed and then relented. “That’s fine, honestly. I probably should try to, anyway, if I really want to do anything with music—guitar players are often singers. But, I don’t want to be another WGWG.”

Kazuya smirked. “Technically, you’d be an AGWG, though?”

“You’re...not wrong, but you know what I mean.”

“I do,” Kazuya said. “Not aiming for Ed Sheeran-hood, then?”

“God, no,” Eijun said. “I actually would like to have a band; I think that would be a lot of fun.”

“A lot of work, too,” Kazuya said. “Wrangling egos isn’t easy.”

“Maybe? We’ll see,” Eijun strummed his guitar. “So, Tull. You ready?”

“Yup,” Kazuya agreed, setting his violin on his shoulder.

Eijun played the first notes and opened his mouth to sing. “Really don’t mind if you sit this one out—”

Chika knocked lightly on the door. She’d waited until they finished the current song before she interrupted, enjoying the sounds of music and laughter coming from the room as they worked through things. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but that didn’t matter much to her. For so long, music had brought the sadness of loss with it, even though she knew Eijun loved playing the guitar. For the last week, though, she’d seen the joy gradually return to Eijun’s eyes, even when he wasn’t putting on a front for her. That alone would make her grateful for Kazuya’s entrance into their lives, but the sounds from the bedroom, the conversation and bickering between phrases as they started and stopped playing was everything she’d hoped it would be.

“Come in,” Eijun said, opening the door.

“No, that’s fine. The cinnamon rolls are ready, but I’ve made some lunch for you guys as well. There are sandwiches and soup, I hope you like grilled cheese and tomato soup, Kazuya,” she said.

“That sounds amazing,” Kazuya said. “But it’s early yet?”

“It’s almost two,” she said.

“We’ve been practicing for almost three hours?” Eijun looked at Kazuya, who looked as surprised as he did. “Good time for a break, then,” he said, putting his guitar aside and standing. Kazuya joined him and they followed Chika out to the dining table, where she’d put out bowls of soup and a plate piled with grilled cheese sandwiches.

“This looks amazing, Mom, thanks!” Eijun said, heading into the kitchen to wash his hands.

Kazuya echoed him, “Yes, thank you, Mrs. Sawamura.” He followed Eijun into the kitchen, washing his hands as well.

“There’s water or tea in the fridge,” Eijun said. “And cans of coke, if you’d rather.”

“Tea would be great,” Kazuya said. “I’m really thirsty.”

“Me too,” Eijun agreed, pulling down glasses and filling them with ice. He handed them to Kazuya and took the pitcher of tea out of the refrigerator. “Might as well bring the whole thing.”

“Not a bad idea,” Kazuya said, leading the way. He set the glasses down at their places and noticed Chika sitting at the table. “Do you need a glass, too, Mrs. Sawamura? I can get one.”

“No, thank you,” she said, rising and heading over to the sitting area. “I’ve got one already, I just forgot it. You boys sit and eat.”  

Kazuya joined Eijun at the table and he started to eat, stopping for a second when he realized that the soup was not canned, but homemade. “This is really good,” he enthused, enjoying the combination of the tangy soup and the buttery cheese sandwiches.

Chika smiled. “I’m glad you like it,” she said, reclaiming her seat and taking one of the sandwiches out of the pile. “It’s one of Eijun’s favorites, too.”

Eijun nodded. “It is, I really like it.”

“So,” she started, looking between him and Kazuya. “You boys sounded good in there. Are you working on anything in particular?”

“Not really,” Kazuya said, setting his sandwich on his plate. “We’ve got a list of songs that we can play when we busk, that’s what we’re working on mostly.”

“What kind of songs did you chose?”

Eijun swallowed a bite of sandwich and answered. “Things we think we can adjust to guitar and violin. Songs that people know, so they’re interested in our take on them.”

“Kazuya, Eijun says you’re going to LaGuardia, is that right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you’re the concertmaster? As a junior?”

“Yes, ma’am, I am.”

“That’s incredible, I’m sure your parents are really proud of you.”

“Thank you, I hope they are,” Kazuya said.

“What do you—?”

“Mom, please don’t interrogate my friend,” Eijun said.

Chika looked chagrined. “It’s not often you bring home new ones, I want to get to know him,” she told her son. Turning to Kazuya, she apologized, “I’m sorry, I didn’t intend for this to be an inquisition. I’ll let you eat.”

Kazuya shrugged. “I don’t mind answering questions. Heaven help you when my mom gets ahold of you, Eijun.”

“I’ll look forward to it, then,” Eijun said. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“Neither do I,” Kazuya said. He turned back to face Chika. “Ask away, I’m glad to answer.”

“You eat and we’ll talk later, okay?”

“If you’d like, but I don’t mind,” Kazuya said, turning his attention back to his lunch.

Eijun was just finishing when his phone buzzed and he opened it to check the message.

Master Chris: Hey, I know you were looking for extra lessons. I had a cancellation, if you’d like to come by this afternoon at 5. Let me know.

He looked up at Kazuya. “Hey, Kaz? When do you have to be home?”

“No time, why?”

“I got a text from Chris, you know my guitar teacher? He’s got an opening this evening, I’ve been hoping to get in some extra lessons,” he explained.

“You should go, then. What time?”

“Five.”

“When would we have to leave?”

“His studio is in the Village, so by four, maybe quarter ‘til,” Eijun said.

Kazuya shrugged. “Sure, we’ll wrap up then. I’ll ride the train down with you and get off a little before you need to.”

“Okay, great,” Eijun said, returning his attention to his phone. He didn’t see the sadness pass across Kazuya’s face, but Chika did. And it made her wonder.

Me: yes, plz! i’ll be there!

Master Chris: Good, see you then.

Eijun set down his phone and turned his attention back to the people at the table.

“Done? There’s another half sandwich there,” he said to Kazuya.

“I’m full, thanks.”

“Hang on a sec, let me go get the cinnamon rolls,” Chika said, rising and taking their plates into the kitchen. She returned with a plate stacked high with the desserts and set it on the table. “Help yourself,” she said, handing them each a small plate. “Eijun, the ones on the right don’t have raisins in them, just nuts.”

“You don’t like raisins?” Kazuya asked. “What kind of heathen are you?”

Eijun shook his head. “I do like raisins,” he explained. “I don’t like them baked, but I like them plain.” He thought about it for a minute. “Actually, I don’t mind them baked if I know they’re going to be inside something. But I’d rather skip them.”

“Understood,” Kazuya said, taking a cinnamon roll from the pile. “I, on the other hand, love raisins.” He took a bite of the pastry and made an appreciative hum. “These are amazing, Mrs. Sawamura. Thank you.”

“I’m glad you like them,” Chika said. “Eat as many as you’d like, there’s plenty.”

“One more then,” Kazuya said with a smile. “I shouldn’t eat any more.”

Chika smiled back, “Eat what you want, we won’t tell.”

“Honestly, I’m full. That was the best meal I’ve had in a very long time,” he admitted.

“You’re welcome whenever,” she said. “Between Eijun, his father and grandfather, I always cook tons. There’s always plenty.”

“You might come to regret that,” Kazuya said with a sharp smirk.

She grinned back. “I doubt it.” Standing, she picked up the plate, pulling it out of reach when Eijun made to take another cinnamon roll.

“Save some for the others,” she admonished him.

“Why can Kazuya have as many as he wants?” Eijun grumbled.

Chika laughed at his pout. “Because, son of mine, he’s company. Plus he’s polite, unlike certain other kids I could name.” She picked up the pitcher of iced tea and refilled each of their glasses before heading into the kitchen, the sound of her laughter filling the room as she left.

“Ladies and gentlemen, my mother,” Eijun muttered to Kazuya’s laughter.

“She’s nice,” he said.

“To you. Wait, though. Eventually, you won’t be company anymore and you’ll see.”

Kazuya looked surprised at the assertion—although Eijun couldn’t be sure which part—before responding. “I’ll look forward to it, then.” He stood. “Ready to get back to it?”

“Yeah, let’s.” Eijun agreed, joining him as they headed back to the bedroom and more practice.

“Where do you have to get off?” Kazuya asked as they entered the train, claiming seats side by side.

Eijun slid his guitar case between his knees to stabilize it and keep it out of the way of fellow riders. “Fourteenth. He lives off of Greenwich on Eleventh. That’s how I found that passageway; I was on the way to my lesson and noticed it.”

“Makes sense. I’ll get off on Eighteenth, then. I’m sure my parents will be glad I’m home early,” he said flatly.

Eijun eyed him closely. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Nothing, I’m fine. I just—,” he sighed before confessing. “My mom. She started in on me again this morning about the piano and I don’t want to have to deal with it right now.” He stopped, not wanting to make him feel guilty about the lesson he was attending.

“I’m sorry, I know parents can be overbearing, even when they think they know what’s best for you. Maybe especially when they think they know what’s best for you,” Eijun sympathized.

Kazuya nodded in agreement. “You’re right. Not too bad for a kid from a jockhead school,” he snarked.

“Hey! I’ll have you know my grades aren’t that bad. And my English and Literature grades are excellent,” Eijun argued.

“At a jock school,” Kazuya deadpanned.

Eijun huffed. “I can’t imagine your curriculum is so tough, either.”

“You’d be...not wrong,” Kazuya admitted with a grin. “But my comment still stands.”

“Is this where we start saying ‘it takes one to know one’?

“I think it should maybe be ‘I know you are but what am I?’.”

“Goody, we get to act like we’re four again!”

“Hey, I loved being four. FIngerpaints and the sandbox and girls with cooties. Those were the days,” Kazuya argued, good mood restored by the idiocy of their conversation.

“Four was great,” Eijun reminisced. “Naps. Naps were the bomb. How come we get in trouble for taking them now, when back then they forced us to, even when we didn’t want to sleep?”

“I don’t know, but that’s a valid point.”

They continued to chat as the train went on its way. At one point, Kazuya noticed a pregnant woman entering the train and he offered her his seat since the train was full. Eijun did the same for an elderly man, and they found themselves leaning against the doors, still talking.

As they pulled out of the 23rd street station, Kazuya started to shoulder his violin, knowing the next stop was his. Eijun reached out and laid a hand on his arm.

“Why don’t you come with me to my lesson? We can go busk for a while afterward, if you want, then you don’t have to go home for a while.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude, that would be weird.”

“I don’t think it would be, but let me check,” Eijun pulled out his phone and sent a text. “Just stay on the train, if Chris says no, you’ll only have to walk a few extra blocks.”

“Okay, if he agrees, I’ll go,” Kazuya said, as they pulled into his station.

Eijun’s phone buzzed and he checked the text. “He says it’s fine.” He showed Kazuya the text.

“You call him Master?” he asked, laughter dancing in his eyes.

“Shut up,” Eijun said, elbowing him. “You should get off the train now, you’ve been disinvited.”

“First of all, that’s not a real word,” Kazuya said, laughter breaking free. “Secondly, too late. You can’t do that.”

“I just did.”

“I’ll just follow you, you know.”

Eijun sighed. “Yes, I’ve only known you for five days, but I do know you would do exactly that.”

“Six days, actually, and it’s amazing how quickly you’ve learned all my secrets.”

“Somehow, I don’t really think that’s much of a secret.”

Kazuya snickered. “You’re probably right.”

They walked down Eleventh Street, stopping in front of a music store. In the front window were a variety of string instruments Kazuya was itching to get his hands on, behind a sheet of glass with ‘Animal’s Music Shop’ written on it in gold paint.   

“I didn’t know there was an instrument shop here, I’m going to have to check it out,” he said, following Eijun through the door.

“I think it only opened last year,” Eijun explained. “But Chris uses one of the back rooms for his lessons.”

“I see—” Kazuya started before a back door opened and a man stepped out. Chestnut hair slicked back with eyes that matched, he smiled at the boys.

Kazuya startled. “Eijun, how do you—”

Chris stepped forward. “Good to see you, Eijun. Hello, Kazuya, it’s been a while.”

Chapter Text

Kazuya stared, confused. “Chris? How do you...wait, you’re Eijun’s teacher?”

“I am,” Chris admitted. “He’s a good student, too.”

“How did you—”

“Wait a minute,” Eijun said, stopping dead in the middle of the room. “You know Kazuya?”

Chris turned to both of them. “We can talk about it in a minute, okay? Let’s go into the practice room and talk. Eijun, you two head on back and I’ll meet you there.”

Eijun nodded and looked at Kazuya, who looked equally confused. “Come on,” he said, putting a hand on the dazed boy’s shoulder. “Let’s go back and wait.” Kazuya nodded and followed him to the rear of the store and down a short hallway, turning into a small room with some chairs and music stands in it. Standing his guitar case in the corner, he flopped down into one of the chairs.

Kazuya set his violin next to Eijun’s guitar before sitting in the chair next to him.

“How do you know Chris?” Kazuya asked him.

“My dad—” Eijun started before Chris entered the room, interrupting him.

“Let me tell the story, okay?” he asked. “Then I’ll answer any of your questions.” He handed each of them a bottle of water.

“First of all, I need to apologize. I brought you here under false pretenses,” he said, then paused. “That’s not right, sorry. Let me rephrase. I knew exactly who you were, Kazuya, before Eijun asked if you could come. After Eijun’s explanation, ‘His name is Kazuya, he’s really good at playing the violin but he’s kinda a jerk’, I was sure it was you. I’m glad you came in.”

“Then why—” Kazuya started, subsiding when Chris gave him a look.

“Okay, first of all,” Chris began, pulling a chair to face them and sitting down. “Eijun’s father and mine are old friends from their ‘starving musicians’ phase. Eijun’s dad quit to get a regular job, settle down and marry, while mine gave up on the rock star thing and went into the studio, became one of the better-known studio musicians.”

“Animal, right?” Eijun said. “My dad talks about him sometimes.”

“Yeah. His real name is Jorge, but he’s a drummer, so.”

Eijun laughed. “That’s actually really clever.”

“Not really, but it stuck and that’s what he goes by now. Anyway, when your dad decided he needed someone to teach you, he reached out to Dad, since he knew he was still involved in music. Dad recommended me, even though I’m not really a guitarist. I’d spoken to him about teaching and he jumped on that,” Chris took a drink of his water and shook his head, negating the thought that he could see Eijun had formed. “No, I don’t mind. In fact, I like it—playing guitar was more a hobby for me and developing those skills—even to make me be able to teach you better, makes me feel like I’m actually making some kind of progress.”

“You do look better than the last time I saw you,” Kazuya noted, looking him over carefully.

“I’m sure I do,” Chris agreed. “I am much happier than I was the last time you saw me.” He met Eijun’s curious gaze, settling in for a bit. “I’ll explain. I was—well, still am— a violinist. I first remember meeting Kazuya at the citywide competition. It was the first year he was old enough to compete, and he wowed the judges. However, I had more experience and managed to beat him, something I don’t think he’s ever forgiven me for. The next year he started at LaGuardia. I was a junior when he was a freshman.”

“You’re only two years older than me?” Eijun asked, eyes wide.

“Yes, you didn’t know that?”

“No! I thought you were much older than I am, like...twenty or something.”

Kazuya couldn’t repress a snort at that, subsiding when Chris shot him a look.

“Well, I’m almost twenty, but that doesn’t matter. Let me continue my story. When I was a junior, I was the concertmaster and was involved in all kinds of projects and workshops, trying to make sure my name was out there and my future was secure. During the spring of my junior year, my shoulder felt off, but I was too busy practicing and playing to pay it any attention. Of course, it got worse, until it didn’t just feel off, it hurt. All the time. Again, I didn’t have time to deal with it, so I played through the pain, figuring the summer was coming and I’d be able to rest it then, figure out what was going on then.” He paused to drink some more water, eyes darkening at the memory.

“But then I was invited to participate the National Youth Orchestra that summer, and that’s a chance you can’t really pass up. But it’s not a chance to rest, either. The sheer amount of practice and performance is daunting to a regular student, let alone someone with an injury. Nobody knew I was hurt and I wasn’t about to tell them, I didn’t want to lose my place or fall behind. So I went, and that summer passed without me getting any rest or anything. My shoulder was getting progressively worse and I was eating more ibuprofen than was probably good for me, but I muddled through. And that’s the state I was in when I started my senior year. You know what happened, Kazuya, you were there.”

Kazuya nodded seriously. “Yeah, I do. That was...rough.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Chris said, shifting in his chair to turn a little bit more towards Eijun. “You have to understand the intensity that is the first month at LaGuardia. There are auditions and clubs to join, positions to fight for. I wanted to continue to do everything I’d done previously, and I was constantly challenged by those who wanted my position as concertmaster. I knew if I showed any weakness, they’d pass me in a second. Kazuya, you were the one I was most worried about, you’re brilliant and you were right behind me, I couldn’t afford to slip up at all.”

“I’m sorry—” Kazuya started before Chris cut him off.

“No, you have nothing to apologize for. You didn’t do anything wrong, you were doing exactly what you were supposed to be doing,” Chris said sternly. “Don’t ever feel guilty for this, I did it to myself. Back to my story, I’m sure you have some idea of what happened next. It was during the tryouts for the main orchestra, I was defending my position and I started okay, but in the middle, my arm just stopped working, the pain was excruciating. I couldn’t finish and I was done. I walked out of the room and felt like I’d ruined my life,” his eyes clouded and he sat up, moving his shoulder in what was clearly a reflexive action. “I didn’t know what I was going to do without playing, and I honestly didn’t know if I was ever going to be able to play again.”

He reached over and handed Eijun a tissue, “Don’t cry, please. I’m fine, okay? On my way to better, honestly. But let me continue. I went to the doctor immediately, and of course, I had to give up the violin completely until I was healed. My dad—who’s still in the studio regularly—told me about this thing called body mapping. It’s a way to visualize movement so you can relearn how to do things and avoid—even repair—injury. It’s helped me so much, I can’t believe it. In fact, I suggest you go see someone now, Kazuya. Before you get hurt, learn how to best use your body. I’ll give you the name of my teacher so you can decide, but it’s really helped me.”

“Thanks, I’ll look into it,” Kazuya said.

“I hope you do. Eijun, you might need it too, I’m not sure. So, I started to see them as soon as my doctor cleared me for PT, which was a few months. Since then, I’ve gotten past the pain and am back to playing. I’m going to college, it’s not Julliard, but it’s good enough and I am gradually regaining my music.

“When Dad suggested I teach Eijun, I didn’t know if I wanted to. I’ve been playing the guitar for as long as I played the violin, but I wasn’t sure about teaching, so I agreed with reservations. I find I have no regrets, I’m enjoying teaching you, but that’s why I’m so insistent on warm-ups and stretching, Eijun. I want to make sure you don’t hurt yourself. I would suggest the body mapping for you, too, but only if you find yourself playing more than a few hours a day or if you start hurting anywhere.”

“I will, Chris,” Eijun averred.

“That’s pretty much what I’ve been up to, Kazuya. Playing more little by little, going to school and teaching. I’ve picked up a couple of students from referrals, but I’m not planning to add many more, I have my own studies to take care of. I’m in the orchestra, but doing my best to not stress myself out or reinjure my shoulder.” He stopped and asked, “Do you have any questions for me?”

“Why did you want me to come?” Kazuya asked.

“Several reasons. I know we were rivals, but I thought we were something like friends as well, and I am glad to have the opportunity to explain what happened. Also, I wanted to speak to you about body mapping, because I wish I’d known about it a long time ago,” Chris explained. “I admit to being curious about this duo you’ve formed, can I hear something of what you’re playing?”

Kazuya glanced at Eijun, who shrugged. “Sure. What do you want to hear?”

“You were practicing today, right? That’s why you both have your instruments?”

Eijun nodded.

“Let me hear what you’re working on, then.”

Kazuya pulled his violin out of the case and tightened his bow. “It’s still a little rough, we’re working on having Eijun sing—the song doesn’t seem to work without something other than our two instruments.”

“You can sing, Eijun?” Chris asked.

“Kinda? Enough not to scare the kids away,” Eijun said.

Kazuya snorted. “He’s pretty good. Could use some training, but he’s got talent.”

Eijun grinned at the praise, doing his best not to show how much it affected him. “We’ve been working on Thick as a Brick, do you know it?”

“Jethro Tull,” Chris let a small smile turn up the corners of his mouth. “I’d be disowned if I didn’t.” He leaned back in his chair, relaxing a little now that the explanations were out of the way. “My dad’s as bad as Eijun’s. Probably worse, to be honest.”

“Wow,” Eijun said, eyes wide. “That’s rough.”

“It’s fine, I do love music, and classic rock is one of my favorites,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind if I give you pointers or ideas.”

“Not at all,” Kazuya said. “We’d appreciate any help you can provide, we’re kinda working in the dark, here, there haven’t been a lot of adaptations of these songs for guitar and violin.”

“Okay, then. Let’s hear it.”

Eijun settled in the chair, making eye contact with Kazuya, who nodded. He started to strum the opening cords, opening his mouth to sing.

‘Really don’t mind if you sit this one out’

Kazuya jumped in, violin playing the flute part of the song as Eijun continued to strum. When they got to the part where other instruments jumped in, Chris stopped them.

“That’s really clever, changing the violin for the flute. Your idea, Kazuya?”

“No, that was Eijun,” Kazuya said, waving his bow in his direction.

“Good work, Eijun. I didn’t know you were far enough along to envision that kind of change, I’m impressed.”

Eijun flushed a little at the praise. “Thank you, Chris. After we met and played Purple Haze, I really started to think about other songs that would be adaptable. It’s mostly Kazuya, though, that’s making them work.”

“He does have more technical knowledge and experience, but you seem to have a good ear to hear what you can do and what changes you can make to get things to work. That’s a gift, something that’s hard to teach and normally only comes after a lot of study and experience.”

“Really?” Eijun almost vibrated with happiness at the praise, to Kazuya’s amusement.

“Really. But, you still have to get your basics down and right, you know that. You can’t just imagine how things should go, you need the technical knowledge to be able to replicate what you want to happen and explain it to others,” Chris said repressively. “Kazuya has the ability to figure out what you want, but others who are less capable would not.”

“I understand,” Eijun said, wilting a little. Kazuya was not nearly as amused by this.

“That being said, you guys have something really solid here. Let me see if I can help you a little with this transition, though—” and he was off, picking up one instrument or the other to help them work through the rougher parts.

They spent a couple of hours in the practice room, reviewing the songs that the pair had already worked out and tweaking them where Chris saw something that needed it. As they finished working on the last of their repertoire, someone opened the door to the room and stuck his head in.

“Chris, it’s time to close up,” he said, nodding to Kazuya and Eijun. “You must be Eijun, you look just like your mother.” He stepped into the room and held out his hand. “I’m Animal, I haven’t seen you since you were a wee thing.”

Eijun took the offered hand and smiled at him. “Thank you for recommending Chris teach me. He’s been so much help; I don’t know how to thank him.”

“You’ve helped him too, young man,” Animal said to Eijun’s confusion. He turned to Kazuya. “And who might you be?”

“Kazuya Miyuki, sir,” Kazuya said, taking his hand to shake.

“Oh! Are you the violinist I’ve heard Chris whine about?” Animal asked, slanting Chris a look.

Chris sputtered a little. “Dad! I wasn’t whining. But yes, he’s the one I told you about.”

“Good to put a face to the info,” Animal said. “You’re the concertmaster at LaGuardia?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good job, keep it up,” he said. “If you didn’t get the body mapping info from Chris—”

“He’s got it,” Chris said.

“Alright,” Animal said with a nod. “I’ll leave you boys to finish up. You sound good, you two. You can come around whenever if you need a practice room, I’m glad to hear music in this place.” He patted Eijun on the shoulder on the way out of the room. “Tell your parents I said ‘hi’, wouldja?”

“Of course,” Eijun said. “And thank you, we appreciate your hospitality.”

“Not at all. Chris lost some friends over the whole shoulder thing, I’m happy he seems to be finding new ones.” He walked out the door, shutting it gently behind himself.

Eijun looked at Kazuya and they both turned to look at Chris.

“Ladies and gentlemen, my father,” he said with a laugh.

“He’s something else,” Eijun said with a grin. “Seems nice enough, though.”

“He is, he’s just a little...present,” Chris said. “But he’s a good guy, you’re right. He’s been at my side this whole time, making sure I’m working myself, but not too hard.”

“That’s good,” Kazuya said. “I’m glad to see you doing so much better.”

Chris smiled at him. “I’m happy I got to talk to you, I didn’t like the way I left things when I graduated. Thank you for coming by.”

“Thank you for asking me to come by,” Kazuya said, slinging his violin over his shoulder.

“Don’t be a stranger, okay? Remember, I know what you’re going through better than anyone, I’m always happy to help where I can.”

“I’ll do that,” Kazuya said. “And I’ll look into body mapping, I’m very curious about it.”

“Please do, it’s helped me tremendously,” Chris said, turning to Eijun. “Thank you for bringing him, I won’t charge you for a lesson, obviously.”

“I’m glad you guys got to talk.”

“Also, sorry about your lesson, I’ll make it up to you.”

“Don’t worry about it, just remember that I’d love to have extra if you have time,” Eijun said, picking up his guitar case.

“I’ll remember, and let you know,” Chris agreed. “Also, I know how busy Kazuya’s going to be over the next few months—if he’s ever too busy to busk with you, feel free to check with me and if I’m free I’ll come along. It seems like fun.”

“Really? That would be awesome!” Eijun said with a wide grin. “I’ll do that!”

Kazuya busied himself adjusting his straps, trying to hide his instinctive dislike for the plan.

“Okay, good. Just let me know, and I’ll be there,” Chris said. “I know that you’d rather have Kazuya, but when he can’t. He’s going to be swamped, I don’t think he even understands how bad it’s going to get.”

“I don’t think it will be so bad,” Kazuya said.

Chris shrugged. “Maybe not. Hopefully, you won’t be playing hurt. But remember, this is the semester that universities are going to be watching, Juilliard especially. I’d suggest you take every opportunity offered to you, you never know who you’ll meet or what you’ll learn,” he replied. “Just...be kind to yourself, okay? You’ll lose more by powering through than you will if you stop and take a short break. The world, the music, will be there waiting for you when you get back, I promise.”

“I understand,” Kazuya said gravely. “I hope to avoid the situation, but if I can’t, I’m hopeful that I’ll be smart enough to know when to stop.”

“I hope so too,” Chris said, ushering them out of the room and closing the door behind them.

Saying their goodbyes to Chris and Animal, they headed out into the early evening.

“Hey, Eijun?”

“Yeah?”

“Want to come to my house for dinner?”

Chapter Text

“Your house?” Eijun asked, mind still back on what had happened in the shop.

“Yes, my house. Dinner. Wanna come?” Kazuya asked again, amused at the clear confusion on Eijun’s face.

“I’d like to, but let me ask my mom first,” Eijun said, pulling out his phone. “Wait. Can you call your mom and make sure it’s all right? She won’t say yes unless you’ve gotten parental approval beforehand.”

“They won’t mind.”

“I know, but she’ll want me to verify that you spoke to them.”

“Alright,” Kazuya acquiesced, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He dialed and held it up to his ear. “Hi, Mom. I’m on my way home, but can Eijun come over for dinner?” He looked at Eijun and nodded, before continuing his conversation.

Eijun stopped listening and dialed his own phone. “Hi, Mom. Kazuya asked me over for dinner, is that alright?”

“Has he cleared it with his parents?”

“Yes, he just called his mom.”

“Okay, then, yes. But remember to be polite.”

“I know how to behave, Mom.”

“His mother’s Japanese, right? So if you want to impress the mother of the boy you’re crushing on—”

“Mom!” Eijun wailed, turning away so Kazuya couldn’t see his red face.

“I’m just saying that you should be Japanese polite, not just American. Like we are when we visit your grandparents. Buy her flowers on your way there and make sure you remember all of your manners, okay? It’s not a bad thing to have her like you, you know?”

“No, you’re right. Okay, I will, I remember.”

“Good boy. She’s going to love you.”

“I hope so. I shouldn’t be too late.”

“Text me when you’re on the train, okay?”

“I will. See you later, Mom. And thanks,” Eijun said, ending the call. He turned to Kazuya, who was leaning against the wall waiting for him to finish up. “She said yes, but I need to stop on the way to get her some flowers.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Kazuya said. “It’s fine.”

“Yes, I actually do,” Eijun argued. “Mom will ask about them and I’m a terrible liar. At least she sees through me every time.”

“I can see why that would be,” Kazuya snarked, chuckling as they headed down the street towards Sixth Avenue. “You don’t seem very opaque, Eijun.”

“I could be, but why should I?” Eijun asked with a frown. “I don’t see any reason to keep people guessing about me, I’m just who I am, you know?”

Kazuya sniggered. “I do know. As does anybody who’s been in a room with you for more than a few minutes. You can’t keep anything hidden, can you?”

“I can keep a secret,” Eijun said, turning his head so his blush didn’t show.

“I doubt it.”

“I can!”

“Prove it, then.”

Eijun stopped in his tracks and stared at Kazuya. “How am I supposed to do that?”

Unwilling to admit that he’d painted himself into a corner, Kazuya smirked. “That’s not for me to figure out, is it?”

Eijun continued to stare at him, and then his face lit up and he smiled, wide and bright and dazzling to Kazuya, who was momentarily frozen.

Which was what he used as an excuse for the next thing that happened.

“Then tell me one of yours, and I’ll keep it for you!” Eijun suggested.

This time Kazuya was the one who stared, caught in that golden gaze that he found so captivating, and blurted out something that he hadn’t even told Mochi. “I’m terrified to be the concertmaster, that I’m going to fuck things up and not get into Juilliard.” He clapped his mouth shut and blinked, appalled. “Forget I said that.”

“No way,” Eijun said, eyes wide. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise. But I’m not going to forget it. Maybe I can help, it’s always good to have someone to talk to.”

“I don’t know how you can, but I’ll keep it in mind.”

“I’m not in your school; I’m kinda neutral, in a way? An outsider. I might be able to see things more clearly than you do since you’re in the thick of it. And, if you just need to rant or complain, you can do so without any of that baggage, I can just listen.”

Kazuya stepped beside him and Eijun turned as they resumed their walk. “I don’t know if I can do that, I’ve never been that type of person,” Kazuya said. “But thanks, and if I do, I’ll remember.”

“Good enough,” Eijun said as they continued down the street, with Kazuya sending up a brief prayer of thanks that he’d had enough self-control not to say what secret had really been on his mind. Your eyes are beautiful.

“What kind of flowers should we get?” Eijun asked as they approached a bodega that had an outdoor flower stand.

“I don’t know.”

“What does she like? What’s her favorite?”

“I don’t know,” Kazuya answered in a softer voice. “She’s only ever brought home the roses Dad sends her. I don’t ever remember her buying flowers or anything.”

“Okay, hang on a sec,” Eijun said, pulling out his phone. “I’ll ask Mom.”

“You don’t have to call her, we can just get her some of those—” he pointed at some large flowers in the back.

Eijun shook his head. “There’s a whole thing, we need to make sure—Hi, mom,” he said to the voice on the line. “What flowers should I bring?”

“It’s spring, so there should be some daffodils and maybe hyacinths, those would work.”

“What do they look like?”

“Look for the yellow flower that looks like big bells. Not tulips, though, you know what those look like?”

“Yeah, I see them. They look like the flowers that grow in the park when it’s still cold,” Eijun said, picking a bunch from the bucket.

“Good, now hyacinths are the things that grow at the same time, the ones that look like cones of little purple flowers. Do you see anything like that?”

“Do they come in pink, too?”

“Yes, get purple if they have them, they’ll contrast nicely with the yellow. Daffodils mean respect, but I don’t know if hyacinths mean anything, so they can’t mean anything too bad. At the worst, she’ll assume that you weren’t trained right. Maybe just stick to the daffodils?”

“If you think that’s the best, then I’ll—”

“No, take the hyacinths. It’ll be a much prettier bouquet. She’ll appreciate that.”

Eijun sighed. “Mom, make up your mind!”

“Sorry, sorry! I’m done, buy both and go charm the mother of your future boyfriend.”

“Mom!”

“Goodbye, son of mine. Have fun.”

“Goodnight,” Eijun said, disconnecting the call.

“Get the right information?” Kazuya asked, smirking as he leaned against a light post, waiting for Eijun.

“Yeah,” Eijun said, plucking a bunch of hyacinths out of their bucket. “One of each.”

“That’s easy enough,” Kazuya commented as Eijun took the two bundles to the person staffing the booth.

“She knows,” Eijun said, handing the flowers over. “Could you make these one bouquet, please?”

“Of course, do you want greenery?” the attendant asked.

“No, that’s fine. Just the flowers,” Eijun said. “Who knows what I’ll be saying otherwise.”

Kazuya, who’d been watching Eijun curiously this whole time, broke out into a laugh.

“What are you laughing at?” Eijun asked, glaring at him, looking as threatening as a sixteen-year-old with a bouquet of flowers could look, which wasn’t very.

“You,” Kazuya said, standing upright and walking over to his side. “You’re too invested in this thing, it’s just my parents.”

“You never get a second chance to make a first impression,” Eijun said repressively. “And it’s your mom, I know she’s very traditional and I just want to make sure…” he trailed off, unsure of himself.

Kazuya flung a comforting arm over his shoulder. “You’re fine, she’ll love you. If she doesn’t, that’s her loss, you know?”

“I guess…” Eijun said. “I’ve just never done anything like this before and I want to do it right. I know how hard of a time she gives you about things and I don’t want to be one of those things, I want us to be able to keep playing together,” he said, turning his head to hide his pink cheeks.

Kazuya came to a halt, arm slipping from around Eijun’s shoulder as he pulled him to one side of the sidewalk, out of the flow of traffic.

“Eijun,” he started, trying to throw every bit of sincerity he had into his voice. “My mother will never dictate whether or not we play together. If for some reason she tries, she will not succeed. Ever. I will play with you until we decide we’re done. Not someone else.” He was gratified to see the gold of Eijun’s eyes start to gleam, his expression becoming more hopeful. “I’m not going to lie, she’ll probably see you as little more than a distraction for me, keeping me from the piano, but I don’t care. You’re not.”

“But the flowers won’t hurt,” Eijun said with a grin.

“You’re right, they won’t,” Kazuya agreed, falling into step beside him. “What do they mean, anyway?”

“Mom says that the daffodils—the yellow ones—are for respect, and she doesn’t know what hyacinths mean, so it can’t be anything too bad,” Eijun explained.

“How do you all know so much about this?” Kazuya asked. “And why would she care?”

“Who? Your mom or mine?”

“Either?”

Eijun scrunched up his nose in thought. “Well, let me explain my situation and guess what my mom is thinking based on that. Okay. My parents met when my father was stationed at Yokota Air Force Base, outside of Tokyo. His family was from Nagano, so when he was there he’d go and visit them. On one of those visits, he met my mom. They hit it off, and after a year or so, they got married. She came back here, of course, but we go visit every year. And there I use Japanese manners, as opposed to American. When I was little, she made it a game and we used to practice a lot, but she made it fun.” He rubbed the back of his head, looking at the buildings changing color as the sun set. “I guess she wants me to make a good impression since your mom is from Japan? My family is rural, so I don’t know that we have big city manners, but they’re definitely stricter than they are here.”

“Your mom was born in Japan?” Kazuya asked. “I didn’t even realize that, her accent isn’t that strong.”

“I know, right? She worked hard on that, it was a thing for her. Since she’d been a nurse in Japan, she wanted to continue doing that, but she wanted to make sure that her accent never became an issue. After she married Dad, she traded Japanese tutoring for English, and did everything she could to lose her accent.”

“Good for her. It’s kinda sad, though, that she felt like it might be an issue.”

“Oh, no. Not really. I mean, she’s never been ashamed of it, and you should hear her when she’s chattering with the grannies down the street. It’s just that she’s in pediatrics, and she wants to make sure that her patients can understand her and that if it’s an emergency, that her words are clear. It’s not that it’s an issue for finding work or getting ahead, it’s just so she can take better care of the people she’s been tasked with. Nobody has ever said anything to her about it, it was entirely her decision.”

“I...well, alright,” Kazuya said. “I’m sorry; it’s not my place to judge.”

“I think the ‘forced to change yourself to fit more closely to what people expect’ narrative is hitting a little close to home,” Eijun surmised.

Kazuya, once again, was appalled at the way Eijun was able to read him. “What? No!”

This time, Eijun pulled him to a halt. “Listen to me, Kazuya Miyuki. I’m not an idiot. I may be single-minded about some things sometimes, but I’m far from stupid. I was the city’s highest ranked pitcher before I wrecked my elbow, and I know how to read people. I’m good at reading people. Please don’t insult me by pretending that I’m wrong. I’m not.” Eijun met Kazuya’s amber gaze fiercely, this time willing him to believe. “And one more thing. I’m on your side. No matter what you decide you want to do, I will support you. I told you, I’m here for you and I will keep whatever secrets you choose to confide in me.”

Kazuya shook his head with a wry grin. “You don’t give me much choice but to believe you,” he said, clapping a hand on Eijun’s shoulder. “I do believe you.” He started walking towards home and Eijun hop-stepped to catch up. “So, explain to me what these Japanese manners entail.”

Eijun shot him a smirk out of the corner of his mouth. “You’ll see soon enough.”

“Fair, fair,” Kazuya said. “As long as you’re not sitting in seiza and bowing every thirty seconds, we should be good.”

“What should I expect?” Eijun asked. “How formal are your dinners?”

Kazuya grinned wide, not even trying to hide his enjoyment. “You’ll see soon enough.”

Eijun groaned. “I should have expected that.”

“Yes, you really should have. Why didn’t you?”

“Asshole.”

“Thank you!”

“Not a compliment,” Eijun said, teeth worrying his lower lip as they got closer to the house.

They walked a half block in silence before Kazuya caved. Just a little. “It’s Saturday, so Dad’s cooking.”

“Your dad cooks?”

“Yeah, he’s actually a really good cook—better than my mom, that’s for sure.”

“What’s he cooking?”

“I have no idea. He goes on kicks and focuses on one cuisine or area for a while before moving on. He was on an Italian kick for a while, but I’m not sure what he’s doing tonight. I just know there’ll be plenty for all of us.”

“Does he cook often?”

“Not really. He’s usually working, but unless it’s a huge emergency only they can handle, he and mom are home Saturday nights. If they miss, we make it up when we can, but they want to have family time at least once a week.”

“They’re really busy, huh?”

“Yeah, they’re gone a lot. But they do what they can to be where I need them to be, so it’s fine.”

“They sound like they really care about you.”

“Maybe too much,” Kazuya said, kicking at a loose piece of asphalt. “I mean, I get that they want what’s best for me, but it’s not what I want, you know?”

“I do, really,” Eijun said. “My parents aren’t pressuring me like yours, but they are still asking me about college and trying to get me to do something about my future. I just can’t really think about that yet, I feel like I’ve barely said goodbye to my other dream.”

“Take your time, you have a lot of options,” Kazuya said.

“I know. I’m just not ready to think about them yet.”

“I understand,” Kazuya said, coming to a halt at the bottom of the stairs. “And we’re here.”

Eijun looked up at the front door and took a breath, following Kazuya up.

“We’re home!” Kazuya said, closing the door behind them before slipping out of his shoes. Eijun did the same, looking around for house slippers. “Socks are fine,” Kazuya said quietly with a little snigger. “You’ve been here before, what’s different?”

“Japanese manners, force of habit,” Eijun said, muttering under his breath, “pardon the intrusion.”

Kazuya sputtered out a laugh. “This is going to be great!”

“Shut it, you damned tanuki,” Eijun said, slinging off his backpack and guitar, stacking them beside Kazuya’s. “This is all your fault.”

“I suppose it is,” he agreed. “But I’m not upset about it.”

Stepping up, out of the foyer, Kazuya headed towards the kitchen, with Eijun trailing.

Akemi was sitting on a stool watching Norio cook, but she turned and stood when the boys walked in.

“Hello, Kazuya. This must be Eijun?”

Eijun stepped up and offered the flowers to her. “Thank you for having me, Mrs. Miyuki,” he said.

She took them, eyes widening as she looked them over, a small smile forming on her face. “Thank you, they’re lovely. You picked these?”

“With the help of my mother, yes,” Eijun said, still speaking very formally.

“You were well advised,” she said, turning the smile on him. “I think I like this one, Kazuya,” she said before leaving the room to find a vase and water.

Eijun met Kazuya’s wide eyes before jumping at the sound of clapping behind him. They both turned to see Norio grinning. “Well done, Eijun.”

“Thank you, sir,” Eijun said, letting out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

Kazuya nodded his agreement. “He’s right. She’s never said that about anyone else I’ve brought home.”

“To be fair, it’s only been Youichi and Mei,” Norio said. “But you might be something unexpected, Eijun. It’s good to have your preconceived notions challenged.”

Eijun sighed. “I didn’t mean to do that. I was just trying to be polite.”

“And that’s where you’re different,” Norio said.

Kazuya headed over to the refrigerator, “Want a drink? I can offer you water, seltzer, Coke, tea or Dr. Pepper.”

“Water’s fine, thanks,” Eijun said, sliding into one of the stools at the island, where Kazuya joined him.

“What’s for dinner?” Kazuya asked, watching his father cut up some tomatoes before dropping them into a bowl.

“Tacos. It’s taco Saturday,” Norio said. “Well, taco and burrito Saturday. We have beans and meat, I made some rice if you want that in a burrito, guacamole and sour cream, lettuce and tomato,” he said, gesturing at all ingredients as he mentioned them. “Corn and flour tortillas, salsa, cheese.”

Eijun started to laugh, and both Norio and Kazuya looked at him, confused.

“I’m sorry! It’s just...I just read your apron.”

Norio looked down and grinned. “Kazuya got this for me, and it’s absolutely true.”

“I agree,” Eijun said, still chuckling about ‘I’m a Neurosurgeon. I can fix a brain, but I can’t fix stupid.’

“Are we ready?” Akemi asked, coming back into the room without the flowers. “I’m starving.”

“We can’t have that,” Norio said, setting down a pile of plates. “Let’s eat, shall we?”

Dinner was an assembly line, with Akemi first and Norio last, Eijun following Kazuya. She led them through the doorway she’d used to enter the kitchen, into the formal dining room, where the flowers Eijun brought were sitting in a vase in the middle of the table. The table was surrounded by six chairs and Kazuya’s parents took their seats at each end, with Kazuya sliding into the seat nearest his father.

Akemi patted the seat beside her, on the opposite side of Kazuya. “Come sit here with me, dear,” she said with a smile.

“I’d be glad to,” he said as he slid into the seat, returning her smile with a grin.

“So, Eijun, tell me about yourself—” she started, before Norio spoke up.

“Let the kid eat before you grill him, wouldja?” he joked. “He’s not going anywhere.”

“You’re right,” Akemi agreed. “I’m sorry, Eijun. We’ll talk in a bit. Please, eat.”

“Thank you,” Eijun said, and did just that.

Norio turned to Eijun. “So, Mets or Yankees?”

“Mets, always.”

“Good, I didn’t want to have to throw you out of the house before you finished your dinner. So what do you think our chances are?”

“I don’t know, we need some help in the bullpen—” he said, and Norio did a great job of playing off him, keeping the conversation general and light as they ate their dinner.

After they all had finished, Kazuya stood to gather the plates. “I’ll do dishes,” he offered.

“I’ll help,” Eijun said, hopping up and hoping to avoid the interrogation.

“Just put them in the sink for now, boys,” Norio instructed. “And bring out the cake from the ‘fridge. Kazuya, can you get out some plates and forks, please, and bring them too?”

“Yeah, sure,” Kazuya said, heading into the kitchen, followed closely by Eijun, carrying the rest of the plates. “We tried,” he whispered to Eijun as they piled the dishes in the sink.

“It’s alright,” Eijun said, “It can’t possibly be worse than the aunties in Nagano.”

“Probably not,” Kazuya said. “But they like you, right?”

“I don’t know half the time,” Eijun said, taking the offered plates and forks, as Kazuya took what looked like a homemade coconut cake from the shelf and carried it out to the table.

“This is really good, Mr. Miyuki!” Eijun said. “My mom would love to have the recipe if you wouldn’t mind sharing.”

“Your mom would love it? Or would you love for her to have it?” Kazuya asked with a smirk.

Eijun shrugged. “Same difference, really,” he said with a chuckle.

“I’ll give it to you,” Norio said. “I can give Kazuya the link and he’ll pass it to you.”

“That’s great, thanks!” Eijun said.

“So, Eijun,” Akemi said, and Kazuya almost laughed at how still he got, eyes wide. “Tell me about yourself.”

“What would you like to know? I’m a junior, like Kazuya, but I’m younger. I go to George Washington High School in Washington Heights, and we live in Riverside.”

“Do you have any siblings?”

“No, ma’am, I’m an only child.”

“And your parents, where are they from?”

“My father’s family immigrated here a while ago from Nagano. My mother’s family is still there.”

“In Nagano?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Akemi eyed him consideringly. “And you, what are your plans? I’m sure you know that Kazuya’s going to be a concert pianist. What’s the focus of George Washington?”

Kazuya looked at Eijun in alarm, but the other boy just shook his head.

“Baseball,” Norio said. “You played baseball, right, Eijun?” He asked, not without sympathy.

“I did,” Eijun agreed. “Until I was injured.”

“That doesn’t seem like a viable life plan,” Akemi said, raising an eyebrow.

“He was one of the top pitchers in the city,” Kazuya defended him.

Akemi smiled condescendingly. “I’m sure he was. But people get injured at a frightening rate, don’t they, in sports?”

“In everything,” Kazuya contested, doing his best to keep his cool. “I can name half a dozen musicians in my class that have gotten injured out of playing professionally. It happens.”

“But not so much in music, surely,” Akemi said coolly, turning back to Eijun. “So now what do you plan on doing?”

“I’m not sure, ma’am. I just officially quit baseball this week and haven’t had a chance to figure it out.”

Kazuya had enough, the darkness in Eijun’s eyes was devastating, so he stood. “If everyone’s done with their cake, we have dishes to wash. Come on, Eijun,” he said.

Eijun stood obediently and followed him.

“Akemi, really!” Norio said, loudly enough for it to carry into the kitchen. “Don’t you have any sympathy at all? That poor boy has just lost his future, what if it was our son?”

“I didn’t mean…” Akemi said sadly. “It wasn’t my intention to make him feel bad; he’s a nice, polite boy. But neither of them are going to be boys for long and they need to have plans. Kazuya’s set, he’s going to be a pianist, but Eijun needs to make some decisions soon.”

“It’s not your place to say anything like that,” Norio said. “It’s up to him and his parents what future he decides on. It’s none of your business.”

“It is when he’s hanging around with my son.”

“No, it still isn’t,” Norio said.

“I’ll never understand you Americans, but fine. I won’t badger him anymore.”

“Good.”

Kazuya looked at Eijun helplessly, laying a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get these done. I’ll put the food away if you don’t mind rinsing and loading the dishwasher.”

“Sure thing,” Eijun said with a crooked grin. “At home, our dishwasher is me, so I don’t mind so much.” He started rinsing and loading the dishwasher as Kazuya put the food away in the refrigerator, boxing everything for future use.

“Listen, I’m sorry—”

“No, it’s fine,” Eijun said.

Kazuya sighed and put down the bowl of beans he was emptying. “No, it’s not. For what it’s worth, she was much worse when she found out that Mochi’s mom wasn’t married. And I think she’s still convinced he cheated or extorted his way into LaGuardia.”

Eijun nodded thoughtfully. “I can see why she’d think that.”

“Idiot,” Kazuya said. “But honestly, it’s not right and I can’t believe she said that to you.”

“She didn’t say anything that I didn’t already know,” Eijun said.

“But it wasn’t her place,” Norio said, walking into the kitchen. “I’m sorry, Eijun. She shouldn’t have said those things to you, no matter what her motivation.”

“I...It’s okay, sir,” Eijun said, a little overwhelmed. “I’m sure I’ll hear worse from the aunties in Nagano.”

“Maybe, but that still doesn’t make it right,” Norio argued. “Listen, let me finish up in here, you and Kazuya go upstairs and play or something, okay?”

“Dad, we’re not seven,” Kazuya said. “You can’t just tell us to run off and play.”

“Your instruments? You know, the violin and guitar I’ve been hearing you do nothing but chatter about this last week? I’d like to hear it, so leave the music room door open, okay?”

Kazuya had the grace to look chagrined, although he was glad to see Eijun’s eyes clear as he laughed at his mistake.

“AND YOU SAY I’M AN IDIOT!” he roared, clutching his belly.

Kazuya rolled his eyes and poked him in the ear. “You are, and you’re loud. Too loud. Do you want to play or not?”

“Yes!”

“Then let’s go.”

“I hope you like what you hear, Mr. Miyuki!” Eijun said as they headed for the stairs.

“I expect to,” Norio said, laughing at the antics of the two boys. Once they were out of hearing range, he sighed to himself.

“What’s going on, I thought the boys were doing the dishes?” Akemi asked as she walked in.

“I sent them up to play; they’re leaving the door open so I can hear.” The sound of a guitar tuning echoed down the stairway, and Akemi turned on her heel.

“I’ll be in my office,” she said, heading down the hallway to the room in the back of the house.

Norio grinned at her receding back and puttered around the kitchen while he listened with growing amazement at the music coming from upstairs.

They’d only been playing together for a week?

“What did you think?” Kazuya asked Norio after Eijun had left, carrying a bag with slices of cake for his family inside.

“You said he’s only been playing seriously for six months?”

“Seriously? Less than that. His dad taught him when he was young, but he didn’t get serious until he hurt himself. At first, it was to help with his PT, he thought he’d strengthen his hand and elbow that way, but he learned how much he loved it. He’s been taking lessons for a few months.”

“He’s really good for that short of time.”

“I know, right? He’s actually really smart about things too,” Kazuya stopped for a second. “He’s not smart as such, but he’s got a brilliance that makes him leap from one idea to the next in ways I haven’t seen. It’s like nobody’s told him he couldn’t, so he does. He’s done a lot of the work on the songs we’ve been doing, figuring out how to make it work for us. I don’t know, Dad, I think he could be big one day.”

Norio smiled softly at his son. “It’s nice to see you so excited about something,” he said, remembering the times Kazuya was overly enthusiastic about everything new he learned, often running off to demonstrate exactly what he meant, even if it was the middle of dinner. Or on one particularly memorable occasion, when they were at Akemi’s boss’s house. Fortunately for them, he had a sense of humor about a four-year-old who complained that his piano was badly tuned.

Kazuya grinned at him. “I am. It’s been a lot of fun.”

“Back to school Monday.”

“Yeah, break’s almost over. School is going to kill me when I get back.”

“But that’s another kind of challenge you like, right?”

“I do,” Kazuya said. “But I’m going to miss this one.”

“Kazuya,” Norio said, face serious. “Are you sure he’s just a friend?”

“Dad!” Kazuya felt his face redden. “Yes. He’s just a friend.” As much as I might wish differently.

Me: got home safe.

Kaz: Good!

Me: thank ur father again for dinner, it was delicious

Me: and thanks for asking me over I had fun

Kaz: All but the interrogation from hell. I’m sorry again.

Me: It’s fine

Me: What color is it?

Kaz: Pink and blue and yellow and green. Like an Easter egg.

Me: that sounds so pretty

Kaz: See for yourself!

<attached pic>

Me: ohhhh!

Kaz: Yeah.

Me: want 2 meet up tomorrow?

Kaz: Yes! I was thinking we should busk for a while. The Easter crowds might be generous.

Me: good idea

Me: when?

Kaz: I’ll text you in the morning, okay? I don’t want to ask my parents tonight.

Me: kk just let me know.

Me: g’night kaz

Kaz: night. See you tomorrow.

Kaz: Eijun? You up yet?

Me: yeah

Me: what time do u want 2 meet?

Kaz: I’m sorry.

Kaz: I can’t.

Kaz: My mom won’t let me.

Eijun stared down at the phone as he felt the tears well up.

Spring break was over.

Chapter Text

Me: i’m sorry

Me:  i didn’t think she disliked me that much. 

Kaz: No, no. No. She’s just decided we should have a family holiday. 

Me: are u christian?

Kaz: No, not at all. But before you start blaming yourself again, this is just something she does. Holidays are for family. 

Kaz: Or at least some of them are, whenever she wants them to be.

Kaz: Even ask Mochi if you don’t believe me. She’s always been this way. 

Me: kk

Me: do u have any idea when we can play?

Kaz: I’m not sure. Let me look at my calendar. 

Me: kk

Me: just let me know 

Kaz: You know what? I have Sundays free. 

Kaz: We can do get together on Sundays. Every Sunday. 

Me: are u sure?

Kaz: Yeah. I want to play with you. 

Me: okay, great! 

Me: we’ll plan on sunday then 

Kaz: Yes. For sure. How often do you plan on busking during the week? 

Me: a few days, I think

Me: saturday for sure, maybe one or two other nights

Me: it depends on when I see Chris, I’ll probably busk then since I’ll already be down there

Kaz: That makes sense, let me know, okay? I know I’ve got a lot going on, but if I can come I will. 

Me: i hope so, i don’t think it’s going to be as fun alone

Kaz: I’m sure you’ll be fine. 

Kaz: I gotta go, mom wants me. 

Me: kk, talk to you later. 

Kazuya threw his phone on the bed and headed downstairs, knowing that whatever his mother had planned was a strictly no-phones event. 

Eijun picked up his guitar and started to play, tears drying as he started on the next song on their list. He was going to learn as much as he could, he had a lot of catching up to do. 

Me: It’s rainbows again

<pic attached> 

Ei: still easter i guess

Me: Yeah. Did you have a good day?

Ei: yeah! i learned nine in the afternoon.

Ei: at least what i could without the violin

Me: I’ll work on that when I have time, then. 

Ei: i don’t think it’ll be hard for u

Ei: u can probably just show up and play it fine

Me: Maybe. I’ll listen to it a few times anyway. 

Ei: okay, you do that. 

Ei: its getting late, ill talk to you later

Me: Yeah, I need to get some sleep. 

Me: I am not looking forward to the next few weeks. 

Me: But it’s only six weeks until summer!

Ei: you’re right, it is. 

Ei: goodnight, kaz. 

Me: night, Ei. 

Eijun slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed out of the school, guitar hanging from his other one. It was Thursday, and he had a lesson that afternoon. He was glad for it, even though it was still a little weird not going to practice. Trotting down the hill to the train, he swiped his pass and waited for the next one, pulling out his phone as he did so. 

Mom: You have a lesson today. Are you staying late to busk?

Me: yeah, i was going to

Me: is that okay?

Mom: of course, I was just wondering about your plans.

Mom: is Kazuya joining you?

Me: i doubt it, he’s super busy with school

Mom: too bad, I hope you can see him soon. 

Me: me too.

Mom: Enjoy your lesson, don’t be out too late. 

Me: I won’t

Me: love you

Mom: Love you too, son of mine. 

Me: lesson and then busking

Kaz: Practice until late, sorry!

Me: no worries

Me: enjoy

Kaz: text you tonight?

Me: if ur not too busy

Kaz: I won’t be. 

Me: kk, talk then

Kaz: have fun

Eijun sighed and closed his texts, watching the stations go by. He was surprised at how used he’d gotten to doing things with Kazuya, but he also knew he’d be seeing him on Sunday, so that was something to look forward to. It seemed to him that Kazuya missed him as well, based on the pics of the Empire State Building that he sent every night. They spent time texting every evening, Eijun talking about the music he was working on and Kazuya offering suggestions and insults equally. 

Pulling his phone back out, Eijun pulled up the playlist, trying to figure out what he wanted to cover with Chris. At their last lesson, Chris suggested he bring a song he’d like to learn and they would work on it as well as the regular instruction. Eijun had picked out one he really wanted to learn but thought might be shot down immediately, and one that was not nearly as difficult. Approaching his stop, he stood, sliding both his backpack and his guitar over his shoulders, and exited the station. 

“So, what do you want to work on?” 

“Flight of the Bumblebee,” Eijun said. 

Chris chuckled. “You’re not taking it slow, huh? I’ll tell you what, that’s a good way to start learning some of the classical styles—you should start working on it, but not here. Do it as homework, I’ll get you the sheet music before you leave.” 

“Really?” Eijun asked. “I didn’t think I was ready for classical yet.” 

“You’ve gotten much better, it’s time for you to expand your horizons a bit,” Chris told him. “But while you’re here, let’s work on Hall of the Mountain King, I think you could learn some more of that and take some of it off of Kazuya’s plate.” 

“Thanks, Chris!” Eijun said with a grin. “Where do we start?” 

On Sunday, Kazuya slipped out the front door and was surprised by the boy sitting on the bottom step, who spun as he exited. 

“Kaz!” Golden eyes gleamed as he stood, grinning. 

“Eijun,” Kazuya said, unable to repress his answering grin. “What are you...why didn’t you knock and come in?” 

“I didn’t want to bug you, you didn’t know I was going to be here.” 

“That’s fine. Next time, knock, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Eijun agreed. “How are you?” 

“I’m fine,” Kazuya said, looking at the sky for what felt like the first time that week. “Things are crazy at school; everyone is trying to get the colleges to look at them.” 

“What about you? How are you going to get Julliard to look at you?” 

“I’m the concertmaster and the first chair of both our orchestra and our chamber ensemble. I have a solo in both concerts, and I’m the pianist for the junior jazz band,” Kazuya said. “That should at least get their attention enough that I’m invited to audition. I can get in, I’m sure.” 

“That’s great,” Eijun said. “How’s it going so far?” 

“As expected, I got my solo music this week and I’ve started to work through it. How’s school for you?” 

Eijun sighed and looked down, watching where his feet were going. “It’s fine, I’m doing better in class since I’m not so exhausted from practice.” 

“And what about college?” 

“I don’t think I’m going,” he said. “I don’t have the grades to get a scholarship, baseball was my way to that. I’m not sure what I want to study, anyway. I think it would be a waste.”

“What are you going to do after high school, then?” 

“Join Dad and Gramps at the shop, be a machinist. They make good money and I have an in.” 

“Eijun,” Kazuya pulled him to a stop. “Why don’t you try out for Julliard, too? I’ll bet you can get a scholarship, you’re good enough.” 

“I don’t know,” Eijun said. “I don’t have the education they’d expect, I’m not at the level they’re looking for.” 

“I don’t agree,” Kazuya said, falling back into step with him. “I think they’d take you. Just think about it, okay?” 

“Okay,” Eijun said, and they headed down the stairs into the subway tunnel. 

Kazuya was walking down the hallway towards the last class of the day when he heard rapid footsteps behind him and felt an arm slung around his neck.  

“Hey, Moch,” he greeted his best friend. 

“Hey, asshole,” Kuramochi said. “Listen, have you spoken to Eijun?” 

“We texted last night, why?” Kazuya asked. “You worried about him?” 

“Yes. Did he seem strange?” 

“No stranger than usual, why?” 

“Tonight’s GW’s first baseball game of the season.” 

Kazuya stopped and frowned at him. “Really? How do you know?” 

“You know I like baseball,” Kuramochi nudged him. “And I’ve been paying attention to GW more this season. They’ve really been hurting without him in the scrimmages.” 

“And their first official game is today?” 

“Yeah. He didn’t say anything?”

“Nope,” Kazuya said, pulling out his phone. “But I’m sure it’s going to be rough for him.” 

“Yeah.” 

Me: You busking today?

Ei: No

Ei: I don’t feel like it. 

Me: I hope you’re not sick

Me:  Just lazy

Ei: Don’t text in class, you’ll get in trouble. 

Me: Yes mom

Me: Chat with you later?

Ei: yeah, bye

“He’s not busking,” Kazuya said. “I’m going to go up and see him after school.” 

“We have chamber practice,” Kuramochi said. 

“I don’t care, he’s going to need someone to talk to, and all his friends are at the game.” 

“Okay, yeah,” Kuramochi said. “I’ll cover for you, but you’ll owe me one.” 

“Thanks, Moch,” Kazuya said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I’m going to head out now.” 

“Alright. Tell Eijun I said hi. And that he owes me a rematch on COD, dammit.” 

Kazuya laughed. “I will,” he said, turning in the direction of his locker. “I’m going to dump my extra stuff first. I’ll see you later.” 

“Bye nerd,” Kuramochi said with a wave. 

Kazuya stuffed his books in the locker; he knew he could easily recover from one day of slacking in his classes. The teachers tended to fall back on review and exercises done in class during the last weeks of school, they knew that everyone was preparing for the year-end. 

Putting what he needed into the outside pocket of his case, he slung his violin over his shoulder and headed out the door and the few blocks to the 1 train. 

Eijun dropped his backpack on the floor by the table before heading into the kitchen to grab a drink and something to snack on. He wasn’t really hungry—he still had access to the athletic dining room and the piles of food they served, but he wanted something to munch on as he worked through his homework. Homework that he gleefully ignored on regular days, but for today...well, having something else to concentrate on was occasionally a blessing. 

Sighing, he sat down and pulled out his books, thumbing through them as he reviewed his homework. History, math, English. He pulled out his math, figuring he should get the hardest stuff done first. Algebra had never been his strong suit, all the letters in place of numbers just never really made any kind of sense to him.

He was working through the questions slowly, doing his best to make sure his answers were right when his doorbell rang. 

Idly wondering what his mother had ordered from Amazon, he answered the door and stared at the person standing there, shocked. 

“You gonna let me in, or do I have to stand here until someone else comes home?” Kazuya asked with a smirk. 

“Kazuya!” Eijun said, still hardly believing his eyes. “What are you doing here?” 

“Currently, I’m standing on your doorstep waiting for you to let me in.” 

“Oh, sorry, sorry!” Eijun stepped out of his way. “Please, come in.” 

Kazuya stepped around him. “Thank you.”

Eijun closed the door behind himself, turning to his friend. “Not that I’m not glad to see you, but why are you here, Kaz? I thought you had chamber orchestra practice today?” 

“I do. I did,” Kazuya said. “But I thought maybe you’d like…” He cut off, huffing out a loud sigh and running his hand through his hair. “I thought you might want some company today.” 

Eijun’s eyes widened. “I do! I mean, I’m always glad to see you but—” he deflated a little, eyes darkening. “I don’t think I’d be the best company.” 

“That’s why I’m here,” Kazuya said. “Because I think...I thought you could use someone to talk to. Especially today. It’s GW’s first game today, right?” 

“I didn’t say anything about that, how did you know?” 

“I have my sources,” Kazuya said primly. 

Eijun snorted. “Mochi, huh?” 

“Does it matter?” 

Eijun smiled at him. “Not really, no. I’m glad you’re here.” 

“Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want to practice?” 

“Let’s practice,” Eijun said. “It’ll be good to work some of it out with you, so we’re more in sync on Sunday.” 

Kazuya nodded. “That’s a good plan. You know, maybe you could come by the house a little earlier on Sundays and we can get in some practice time before we busk.” 

“Your mom won’t mind?”

“Eijun, no. I told you she liked you, and it’s the truth. I’ll clear it with the ‘rents to make sure, but I’m sure it’s not a problem.” 

“Okay, then,” Eijun said with a nod. “I think that would be great. Just let me know when I should be by.” 

“Deal,” Kazuya agreed. “So, practice? In your room?” 

“Nobody’s home, we could do it out here. I should use my acoustic anyway. There are several babies on this floor and this is nap time.” 

“That’s fine, more room.” 

“Exactly,” Eijun agreed as he headed to get his instrument. “Do you want anything to drink?” 

“Sure, water would be great,” Kazuya said, setting down his violin case on the table and starting to unpack it. He glanced at what Eijun had been working on and laughed. “Are you sure you don’t need a math tutor instead?” 

“Shut it, you,” Eijun said, coming back into the room with his guitar and a bottle of water. He handed the bottle to Kazuya. “You might want to be careful about what you offer...I could very well take you up on that.” 

“You could,” Kazuya agreed. “I honestly don’t mind helping, if you need me to.” 

“I’d rather play.” Eijun pulled one of the chairs out from the table for Kazuya, taking a seat on the couch. “I’ll figure the math stuff out, it’s fine.” 

“If you’re sure.” Kazuya took the offered seat. “But if you ever need help, I’ll be happy to do so.” 

“Thanks, Kaz,” Eijun said. “What do you want to start with?” 

“What are you currently working on?” 

Eijun started playing Flight of the Bumblebee, and Kazuya’s eyes widened. 

“You’re kidding.” 

“Did that sound like I was kidding?” Eijun deadpanned, enjoying the gobsmacked look on Kazuya’s face before he burst out in laughter. “No, no. That’s not what I’m working on...well, it is, but it’s an assignment from Chris. I told him a few weeks ago that I wanted to learn it, and he said it was a good way to learn classical guitar and to work on it at home. When I see him, I show him what I’ve figured out and he tells me what’s wrong with it, and then I work on it some more. I’m learning a lot, but it’s nowhere near ready for playing seriously.” 

“That’s actually pretty amazing. That’s an incredibly difficult song to play at all, I’ve never seriously attempted it,” Kazuya said. “What do you want to work on?” 

“Hmmm... Chris and I were working on a better version of Hall of the Mountain King, but we can always just play that, you don’t need to practice it. What about Little Miss Can’t Be Wrong?” 

“That’s a new direction, yes,” Kazuya said. “We don’t have much early-nineties rock, it’s a fun song.” 

“I like it, and I think I know how we can divide it up, a lot of the guitar line would lend itself to the violin.” 

“Yes, it would. Do you know the lyrics? You’ll probably have to sing if I’m playing the guitar part.” 

“I do,” Eijun agreed. “I think it was one of the first songs my dad ever taught me.” 

“Okay, then, what are you waiting for?” 

Eijun grinned and hit the opening chord, and they started working together, changing the song to best fit both of their abilities. 

They played for a couple of hours, working on newer songs and refining old ones until Kazuya lowered his violin to his lap, looking at Eijun closely. “So, how are you? Want to talk about it?” 

Eijun shrugged, laying his guitar beside him with a sigh. “I don’t really know what to say that you don’t already know. It sucks that everything I worked so hard for is gone, that they’re all just moving on without me.” He wiped at the tears that had been near the surface all day. “I know that’s not the truth, they’re my friends and aren’t trying to leave me behind, but they still are, you know? And it’s really hard; because I have to be supportive and not let them know how much I’m bothered, because that’s not fair to them.” 

Kazuya laid his violin in its case and sat beside Eijun on the couch. “It’s not fair to you, either,” he said, touching Eijun’s shoulder lightly. “You didn’t ask for this, life just sucks sometimes.” 

“You’re right,” Eijun nodded. “It does. And today, it’s just…” he looked down at his hands twining together in his lap. “I don’t know how to be the smiling support I should be.” 

“You shouldn’t have to,” Kazuya said, tentatively laying his hand on Eijun’s shoulder, not sure what that would bring. “You don’t have to, not with me. You be however you’re feeling, okay?” 

Eijun nodded, head still down and tears falling on his hands. 

“Remember how you said you were a neutral party and wanted to help me with things?” 

Eijun nodded again. 

“I want to do that for you, too. I’m not part of your team, you can tell me whatever you’re feeling, there’s no need for you to hide it from me,” Kazuya said. “You can talk to me.” 

“I honestly didn’t think it would be this hard,” Eijun whispered. “But it is, it’s so hard. I don’t know what I'm going to do with myself, who I even am.” 

Kazuya slid his arm across Eijun’s back, pulling him closer. His heart broke for the usually vibrant boy. “I know, you’re right. It is hard, but you’ll get through it. You’ll figure it out, and when you have, you’ll come through brighter than ever. You will.” 

“What am I without baseball, though?” Eijun asked, looking at Kazuya with dull eyes. “I don’t have the one thing I was ever good at anymore.” 

“You’re still Eijun,” Kazuya said. “And I know you’ll find something to replace baseball in your life. You’re not defined by what you do well, you’re defined by who you are. And you’re Eijun Sawamura.” 

“I don’t know, Kaz. I just don’t know.” 

“You have music, right? You love playing?” 

Eijun shrugged again. “I do love to play. But what happens if I lose that, too?” 

“You won’t. Not forever. Music is always there for you, even if you have to adjust how you play it. The same is true about baseball, too. Right? Can’t you still play a game?” 

“I can, I just can’t practice and play like I need to for the team.” Eijun had stopped crying and was busily blowing his nose. 

“Well, why don’t you do that?” Kazuya asked. “Get your friends together to play a game.” 

Eijun looked at him, eyes wide. “I hadn’t thought of that, I’ll do that. They’re all baseball idiots like me; they’ll play as much as they can.” He grinned. “Thanks, Kaz. I’m not sure when they’ll have any free time, but we’ll figure it out.” 

“Good,” Kazuya said. “You might also look into a local recreational team, I’m sure there are those, too. Any one of them would be glad to have you.” 

“I will, that’s a good idea. Maybe over the summer, when I have some free time,” Eijun said. “I may be picking up some hours with Dad, make some money for lessons and get familiar with what I’d be doing.” 

“Will you still have time to play?” 

“Of course,” Eijun said. “I’m not going to work more than ten or fifteen hours a week, just a couple of days. Nothing major.” 

“Ok, okay,” Kazuya said, relief flooding his veins. “What about—” He cut off at the sound of a key being slid into the lock. 

Chika stepped through the door, purse over her arm and carrying a bag from which wafted the smell of fried chicken. “Oh, Kazuya! I didn’t know you were coming by, Eijun didn’t tell me!” 

“He didn’t know,” Kazuya said, standing. “It was a surprise.” 

Chika’s smile softened to something tinged with approval and Kazuya felt a twist in his gut. “That’s wonderful, I’m glad you came by. I brought Popeye’s, and there’s always plenty. Would you like to stay for dinner?” 

Kazuya looked over at Eijun, who was nodding his head. “Let me check with my parents, Mrs. Sawamura, I’d like to.” 

“You do that, Kazuya. Eijun, can you help me with this?” 

“Of course, Mom,” Eijun said, following her into the kitchen. 

She waited until they’d gotten out of earshot to whisper, “Did you really not know he was coming?” 

“Yes! It was a total surprise,” Eijun said. “Mochi told him it was our first game today and he came by to make sure I was alright.” 

“And you still think he’s only thinking of you as a friend?” Chika asked skeptically. 

“Yes? That’s what friends do for each other,” Eijun said. 

“I don’t see any of your other friends here,” she noted. 

Eijun sighed. “That’s because they’re all on the team,” he said softly. 

“Oh, baby,” she pulled him into her arms, snuggling him close. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just really glad he came for you.” 

“Me too,” Eijun said, giving her a kiss. “I just don’t want to read something into it that isn’t there.” 

“I understand.” Chika stepped back and started pulling out boxes and containers from the bag. “Can you get down some plates and silverware? I’m not sure when your dad and gramps are going to be home, but I don’t think they’ll be late.” 

Eijun was in the middle of pulling down the plates when he heard Kazuya step into the kitchen. “Dad said it was fine,” he told them. 

“Good,” Chika said. “I’m glad.” 

“How can I help?” Kazuya asked. 

“In that drawer are a bunch of serving spoons,” Chika pointed it out. “Can you get me out three spoons and a pair of tongs?” 

“Sure,” he said, reaching for the requested utensils. 

“Thanks,” she said, taking them from him. “You boys go ahead and make a plate. I’ll join you in a minute, I just want to change out of my scrubs.” 

“Okay, Mom,” Eijun agreed. “We should probably clear off the table first, though,” he said.

“Yeah, looking at your math scores will put anyone off their feed,” Kazuya snarked. 

Eijun snorted and elbowed him. “I bet you’re not much better.” 

“At math? Yeah, I am. Other things, maybe not so much.” 

“I’m pretty good at English and literature, but yeah, math is not my thing,” Eijun admitted, swiping the books and papers on the table into his backpack. 

“I said I’d help, if you need it,” Kazuya said, tucking his bow into the case before closing it. “You can help with English, and then it would be a fair trade.” 

Eijun nodded. “That sounds fair. If I still need help on Sunday, I’ll bring it with me.” 

“Works for me,” Kazuya said, following him into the kitchen. 

They loaded up their plates and carried them to the table, and Eijun returned to the kitchen for drinks and silverware.

They began to eat and had just been joined by Chika when the front door opened and two men Kazuya hadn’t met came in, although he recognized them from the photos in Eijun’s room. 

“Welcome home, Eidan, Dad,” Chika said. “Get changed and join us. Eijun’s friend Kazuya is here.”

“Oh, good!” the older gentleman, Eijun’s grandfather, said. “We’ve heard a lot about you, Kazuya, I’m glad we’ll get to find out how much of it’s true.” 

Kazuya’s eyes widened and he looked at Eijun, who was shaking his head. 

“Don’t scare the kid, he won’t be able to eat,” Eidan said. “You’re fine, Kazuya. Please ignore my father, he’s getting senile in his old age.” 

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Eijun’s grandfather protested. “He’s fine, he knows I was just kidding. We’ll be right out, boys. Don’t go anywhere.”

Chika took one look at Kazuya’s slightly panicked face and smiled at him. “Don’t worry about them, they’ll behave. You don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to, Kazuya.” 

Eijun nodded vigorously and Kazuya chuckled. “I’m not sure if that’s supposed to reassure me.”

“It’ll be fine, I promise,” Chika said. “I won’t let them bully you. Much.” 

Kazuya sighed. 

It was shaping up to be an interesting evening. 

Chapter Text

Kazuya sat at the table and looked at his plate, unsure of what he should do. 

Should he continue eating, or wait for the elder Sawamura men? Maybe he should wolf it down as fast as he could, so he could get away? He felt a knot start to form in his stomach. 

"Don't think so hard," Eijun said, knocking their shoulders together as he moved his plate to the side of the table Kazuya was sitting in to clear the end for his father. "It'll be fine." 

Kazuya felt the knot dissolve at the touch, shooting Eijun a smirk, one tinged with gratitude. "You're one to talk about thinking too much," he said with a little less snark than usual, but enough to get Eijun to glare. 

"Listen, Kazuya Miyuki," Eijun started as his mother smothered a chuckle. "Who's side are you on, anyway?" he asked her, huffing out a breath. 

"Yours, always," Chika said. "But he's not wrong, Eijun, you know this." 

"Should you be saying that about your only son?" Eijun asked. "You might give me a complex." 

"Well, is he wrong?" she responded, and before Eijun could work up a proper response to her, or to his friend who sat beside him chortling, the elder men joined them at the table. 

"So, you're Kazuya," Eidan said, smiling in his direction. 

"Yes, sir, I am," Kazuya said. 

Eitoku sat at the head of the table, beside Eijun. "You're pretty enough," he said, cocking his head. "I'll bet you have all the girls falling at your feet," he said. 

Kazuya choked a little. "Thank you," he said, not really knowing what to say. 

"Eijun said you met busking?" Eidan said, tossing Kazuya an easy question and giving him time to recover.

"We did," Kazuya said. "I was looking for somewhere to practice, and he came along accusing me of taking his spot." 

"You did, though," Eijun said. "You were exactly where I normally played." 

"That's because it has the best acoustics," Kazuya shot back. "Where did you expect me to play?" 

"Anywhere that wasn't in my spot." 

"As if I knew it was yours, idiot," Kazuya snarked, forgetting they had onlookers. He was startled into remembering by the sound of laughter. 

He looked around wildly, unsure if he needed to apologize when Eidan spoke up again. "You go to LaGuardia, correct?" 

"I do," Kazuya agreed.

"You play the violin?" 

"Among other things," Kazuya explained. "Violin is my favorite, but I can play almost anything with strings. Except for harps, those things are hard." 

"Guitar, bass?" Eidan asked. 

"All of that," Kazuya agreed. "And the piano. But my best instrument is the violin." 

"Are you planning to continue playing after high school? What are your plans?" Eitoku asked. 

"Gramps, that's really not—" Eijun started before Kazuya laid a hand on his wrist to silence him. 

"I am, I want to play professionally. I'm aiming to get into Juilliard," Kazuya said. 

"Eijun said you're really busy, is that what's taking all of your time?" Chika asked. 

"Pretty much, I'm the concertmaster and involved in several of the other groups," Kazuya said. 

"What's a concertmaster?" Eitoku asked, curiosity winning out over his usual reticence. 

"It's basically the first chair of the violin section, I stand in for the conductor if he's not there and I warm up the orchestra," Kazuya explained. 

"You've got a lot of responsibility, then," Eidan said. "That's great, I'm sure that'll get you a toe in." 

"Yeah, I hope so," Kazuya said. 

"What other kinds of music do you play?" Eidan asked. "I'm sure Eijun told you, but I was a guitar player back in my rebellious youth." 

"Yes, he did. I also met Animal Takigawa, when I went with Eijun to his lesson a few weeks ago. I'm actually good friends with his son, Chris." 

"Oh, yeah," Eidan said. "His son, he's the one teaching Eijun." 

"He is," Eijun said. "He's really good. Did you know he used to play the violin? He was the concertmaster before Kazuya." 

"That was how he hurt himself, right?" Eidan said, looking at Kazuya with concern. "Don't hurt yourself, Kazuya. Or if you do, don't hide it." 

"I don't plan on doing either of those things," Kazuya agreed. "But I'll be careful." 

"Please do," Chika said. "I'd hate for you to lose your music." 

"I don't think that's possible," Kazuya said. "I was just telling Eijun that no matter what, you can never really lose music, you just might have to adjust the way you relate to it. Even Beethoven was still able to compose after he was completely deaf. Chris has adapted as well, and I'm betting he'll be back to his old self soon." 

"That's right," Eidan said. "I don't really play anymore, but I've enjoyed what I've been able to teach Eijun, and I still love to listen. I'm proud of what he's learned and how he's pulled himself back up." 

"Yeah, these last few months have been rough for him," Eitoku said, reaching over and ruffling his grandson's hair. "But he's strong, he'll be fine." 

Kazuya nodded. "He will, you're right. I don't know if I'd have been able to recover the way he has." 

Eijun blushed, not quite sure how to take the praise he'd been given. 

"Well, he's always been single-minded," Eidan noted. "When he gives his attention to something, everything else is second place." 

"Including his grades," Chika said to general laughter, and the atmosphere around the table lightened. 

"Hey, Eijun? Did I ever tell you about the time U2 played an impromptu show in the Village?" 

"No, when was that?" 

"1990," Eidan said. "I was just getting off the train at Bleecker street when I saw a bunch of people running—" He started telling the story, which was one that Eijun hadn't heard before. When he'd finished, the conversation became more general, and Kazuya relaxed a little, figuring the worst of it was over.

He was right, there were more questions, but they were not just aimed at him and they were part of the general conversation. He was a little surprised by the lack of curiosity, if he was being honest.

"Kazuya, honey," Chika said as they were finishing dinner and Eijun stood to collect the plates. "When do you need to go home?" 

"Soon, I should leave about seven or so. I have homework to do," Kazuya said, also standing to help him. "After I help with dishes." 

"You don't have to do that," Chika said. "You can go now if you need to." 

"No, no," Kazuya told her. "I'm good for a while, I'll be fine." 

"If you're sure. It's Eijun's turn to do the dishes and there aren't any pots, he can handle it himself." 

Eijun frowned at her. "Thanks, Mom." 

"I'm sure," Kazuya said. "I don't mind helping, either. You fed me, it's the least I can do." 

"Well alright," she backed down. "But if you change your mind." 

"I'll let you know," Kazuya said, carrying the last of the dishes into the kitchen and setting them on the counter. "How can I help?" 

"Well, our dishwasher is me, tonight, so do you mind drying?" Eijun asked. "If you want to dry them and pile them on the counter, I'll put them away." 

"I can do that," Kazuya agreed, taking a dishtowel off the oven door handle. 

Eijun grinned at him. "I'm sure you can." 

They worked in companionable silence for a few minutes, before Eijun asked. "Hey, you alright?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine, why?" Kazuya said, laying the plate he was drying in the pile. 

"My family and their questions." 

"I...honestly, I thought it would be worse, they didn't ask that many." 

"Not as many as your mom, that's for sure," Eijun laughed and Kazuya swatted him with the towel. "Seriously, they're really nosy, but I think you got a free pass." 

"Why?" 

"Well, they do trust me to bring home good people, but also, you're a musician. You're the first music friend I've brought by, and they're happy about that." 

"You don't have any others? What about Chris?" 

"Chris is my teacher, and although I'd like to think of him as my friend, he's not really one I'd bring home if that makes sense? Or at least not without preparation." 

Kazuya nodded. "I get it. But there's also Mochi, I think you two are friendly," 

"We are," Eijun agreed. "I just haven't had the chance to bring him by. My parents have been really worried about how I was going to get over losing baseball, and I've tried really hard to do what I can to reassure them. I don't know how much they believe," he said, staring pensively at the spoon he'd been washing. "I don't know how much I believe. But you're proof that I'm moving on, getting out there and making friends, and that's what they want for me." 

"I'm glad I'm good for something," Kazuya said with a chuckle, and Eijun hip-checked him. 

"Idiot." 

"Thank you!" 

"That's not a compliment," Eijun laughed. 

Kazuya chuckled and then sobered. "So, they're worried? But you seem to be all right. I mean, today's been rough, but overall you seem fine?" 

"You're seeing me now. You should have seen me three months ago, before I started lessons with Chris. I didn't leave the house much, I just played the guitar a little and watched TV, I stopped doing almost everything, even stopped hanging with my friends." 

"Well, but that's understandable, right? They were all baseball players. I don't blame you; it had to be hard to be around them." 

"It was, I didn't want to resent them, none of this was anyone's fault, but I did. And I hated myself for it, which just brought the cycle back around." 

"I'm sure," Kazuya said. "I'm glad you've managed to break yourself out of it." 

"So am I," Eijun admitted. He set the last dish in the drainer and Kazuya picked it up. As he did so, Eijun laid a hand on his arm. "Thank you, Kaz. Seriously." 

"For what?" 

"For coming over today. It wasn't nearly as bad as I'd expected it to be, and that's because you were here. So thank you, I appreciate it." 

Kazuya set the cup on the counter beside the others he'd dried. "I was glad to do it, I figured you'd be happy for the company." 

"I was," Eijun admitted. "And I was glad we could work on some more songs, I really like our variety." 

"Me too," Kazuya said. He folded up the towel and hung it where he'd gotten it. "If you want to tell me where these things go, I can put them up." 

"No, I've got it," Eijun said, opening a cupboard that had both cups and plates in it. "Hand me the plates, would you?" 

Kazuya passed them over, and the cups, before he found the silverware drawer and returned the utensils to it. 

Eijun glanced at the clock above the stove. "It's after seven, you'd better get going." 

"You're right, I need to get my homework done," Kazuya said, following Eijun to the living room where he'd stashed his stuff. "I need to text Mochi and find out what we did this afternoon, I left a little early." 

"You shouldn't have done that," Eijun said. "You have so much to do already." 

"I couldn't just leave you to deal with this yourself," Kazuya admitted, hiking his backpack on his back. "It's fine, I wanted to come." 

"That's really not the point, but I am glad you did," Eijun said, slipping on his shoes. He yelled over his shoulder, "Mom, I'm going to walk Kaz to the train!" 

"Okay, be careful coming home! And Kaz, thank you for coming and come back whenever you want, you're always welcome." 

"Thanks, Mrs. Sawamura! I will." 

Eidan stuck his head around the corner and waved. "See you later, Kazuya! Maybe next time, I can hear you and Eijun play!" 

"I'd like that," Kazuya said. "Next time." 

"Get home safe," he said, and then turned to Eijun. "Hey, Ei? Can you stop for some half-and-half on your way home? Let me get you some money." 

"No problem, Dad, I have enough for that," Eijun said, opening the front door for Kazuya. "I'll see you in a bit." 

"Be careful, boys," Eidan said, closing and locking the door behind them. 

"Sorry, they can be a little much," Eijun said. 

"No, no. They're fine, I really like your family." 

"Really?" 

"Really," Kazuya said, stepping onto the elevator as the doors opened. "You know, you don't have to walk with me to the train, I know the way." 

"I know, I want to," Eijun said. "Is that alright?" 

"Of course, I like the company." 

"Alright, then." Eijun sighed, thinking about the game he'd missed. "I wonder if I should have gone to the game." 

"Would you feel better about your arm if you had?" 

"No, I don't think so. I think I'd feel worse about it, but better about supporting my friends." 

"What do they think? Do you think they wanted you there?" 

"I think they did, but I also think they understood that I might not, and why." 

"Well then, you're fine," Kazuya said, bumping him in the side and laughing when he stumbled. 

"Jerk!" Eijun said with a grin. 

"Thank you!" Kazuya answered. 

"You do know that's not a compliment," Eijun said. "Why do you insist on saying that?" 

Kazuya looked at him for a second, steadily. "I don't really want to talk about it right now," he said. "Someday, though. Someday I'll tell you." 

"Fair enough," Eijun said. "I was just curious, but it's really none of my business." 

"That's not it, it's just...something I don't like talking about, but maybe later, okay?" 

"Alright. Or never is fine too, Kaz." 

"Got it." Kazuya agreed. "Thank you." 

"Don't thank me for being a decent human being," Eijun said. "But do thank me for walking you to the train." 

"Thank you, Eijun, for walking me to the train," Kazuya said in the most simpering voice he could produce and Eijun swatted at him, laughing. 

"Listen, you." He started before he looked up at the timer. "Train's coming in two minutes, you'd better get up there." 

"Okay, yeah." Kazuya hiked his violin up on his back. "Thanks for dinner, and I'm glad I got to see you." 

"Thank you for coming, I'm really happy you did. Text me when you get home, okay?" 

"Will do," Kazuya said, turning and starting up the stairs. "Goodnight, Ei." 

"'night, Kaz," Eijun said, turning to walk back up the hill to his house. He stopped at the bodega to get some half-and-half, bending to pet the cat that was guarding the door before leaving. "I paid, Gordo, don't bite," he told the lazy orange tabby, who just lifted his tail once in acknowledgment. Continuing on his way, he pushed open the door to his house and stepped in, taking off his shoes in the entryway. "I'm home, and I got the cream!" 

"Oh, great," Eidan said, coming out of the living room to retrieve it. "Thank you, I didn't realize we were out. Kazuya got off alright?" 

"He did." 

"I'm glad he came by and that we got to meet him. He seems like a nice kid, and that stuff he's done is seriously impressive," Eidan said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "He probably knows more about music than I can ever hope to learn." 

"Yeah, he's kind snarky and sarcastic, but he is a good guy. He came by today because he knew it was the first game—he even skipped practice for me." 

"Must be love," Eidan teased. 

"Daaad!" Eijun protested. "I...he doesn't think of me like that." 

"Wait, he's gay?"

"Yes." 

"Does he know you are?" 

"Nope," Eijun said, popping the 'p'. "And I'm not going to tell him. At least not for a while, I don't want things to get weird." 

"But you like him, right?" 

Eijun blushed, opening the fridge to get a bottle of water and cool off his face. "It doesn't matter, does it?" 

"I'll take that as a yes," Eidan said. "Listen, if you actually think he might like you back, you should talk to him about it." 

"I will." Eijun agreed, "But I really don't want to lose him as a friend." 

"I know, but something tells me that that's not going to happen," Eidan said. "You're a good kid, Eijun. Don't let anyone convince you otherwise." 

"Thanks, Dad," Eijun said, giving him a hug. "I love you." 

"Love you too, son of mine." He grinned at Eijun. "This love of music thing looks good on you." 

Eijun smirked at him. "I'm not wearing my hair in a pompadour, dad." 

"Hey, my hair is awesome!" Eidan argued, laughing with his son. 

"Yeah, if your name is Elvis," Eijun said, shaking his head. 

"Such disrespect, I ought to send you to your room!" 

"Please do, I'm headed that way anyway!" 

"Such is the viperous tongue of the child," Eidan lamented. "Where did I go wrong?" 

"Nowhere, Hun," Chika said, strolling into the kitchen, patting him consolingly. "You're fine, I think it's me—" she started on a fake lament.

"On that cheerful and supportive note, I'm off to do homework and practice," Eijun said, turning away from his parents, who were both laughing hysterically. 

"Homework first," Chika said through her chuckles. 

"I know, I know," Eijun told her, hustling to get out of there. He had a feeling which way that was going, and he didn't want any part of it.

"I'm late, I'm late, I'm late," Eijun said to himself as he dodged people on the sidewalk, apologizing as he passed. "Sorry, I'm late!" he yelled, weaving through the crowd. He hurried down the block and turned the corner, sighing with relief that this street, at least, wasn't crowded. He set off at a good pace, wanting to get to his destination as quickly as possible. Coming to a halt at the door, he stepped through and bent over, trying to catch his breath. 

"Sorry I'm late!" he said, apologizing to the room at large, still bent over and catching his breath.

"Eijun, it's only five after, you're fine. Train issues?" 

"Yes, sir," he said. "I don't know what was going on, but the one train ran so slowly, it took forever," he said, continuing to try to regulate his breathing. "I left with extra time, even!" 

"That happens," Chris said with a ghost of a grin. "You're really fine, come on back. After you've grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge."

Eijun straightened and smiled at him. "Thanks, Chris! I appreciate it." 

"Don't worry about it, let's just get started, okay?" 

"Okay!" Eijun said, following him to the back after making the required detour. 

"So, how's it going?" Chris asked, gesturing for Eijun to sit. 

Eijun sat in his usual chair and started pulling out his guitar. "It's going well," he said, before stopping. "Well, school's in. And baseball is going, so that's hard. A few days ago the season really started. But, on the day of our first game, Kazuya came over to practice with me. He even skipped chamber practice, Mochi told me later, to make sure I was alright." 

"He missed practice?" Chris said, and Eijun nodded. "Didn't you say he had a solo? That's unusual for him, not like the Kazuya I remember." 

"You think he's going to be in trouble?" Eijun asked, knowing Chris had been in the same position the year before. "I don't want him to get in trouble for me." 

Chris shook his head. "I'm sure he's fine. They can miss a few if it's needed, it just doesn't sound like something he would have done when I knew him. Good for him." 

"Why would missing practice be a good thing?" Eijun asked. 

"Because it means that he's seeing that there's more to the world than playing the violin," Chris said. "We both have tunnel vision when it comes to things like this, and we think that we have to dedicate everything to it, that distractions are bad and should be minimized. You see what it did to me, and I was worried about Kazuya, even though he does have Mochi as a friend to help him be a little more open. But he's expanded his horizons outside of the LaGuardia/Julliard space and is seeing that there are other things outside of that worthy of his attention. It's a good thing you wandered into his life, he doesn't realize it yet, but I do." 

"That's...well, I'm glad, then," Eijun said. "I get it, because baseball demands that kind of dedication, too, but at least GW isn't only baseball focused, there are a lot of kids who have nothing to do with baseball in it, so we do interact with them on a daily basis." 

"Right," Chris said. "At LaGuardia, everyone's in performance arts of one form or another, so there isn't a lot of perspective there." He shook his head and reached over for his guitar. "So, what's been going on with you and Flight of the Bumblebee?" 

"I've gotten through the next part, the part you showed me last time," Eijun said. "I've gone on a bit more, but got a little tangled and need to figure it out." 

"Play me what you've gotten so far," Chris instructed, and Eijun checked his tuning before doing what he'd asked. As his fingers flew over the fretboard, Chris watched closely, stopping him a time or two to show him a little different way to handle some of the trickier parts. 

"That's good so far," Chris said, looking at his guitar pensively, finally coming to a decision. "You just keep on doing what you're doing and you'll have that figured out soon. If you have any questions, please ask, but I think we can leave the rest up to you." 

"Thank you, Chris!" Eijun said, excited to have merited his trust. "I'll work on it, but I'm sure I'll have questions." 

"I'm sure you will, too," Chris said with a smile, ruffling his hair. "Now, where were we last week?" 

"I think we were talking about fingering, you gave me that exercise." 

"Ah, yeah. So, when you..." 

"Say, Eijun?" Chris asked as he was packing up his guitar for the end of the lesson, getting ready to go home. 

"Yeah?" Eijun turned, giving him his full attention. 

"Have you ever considered joining a band?" Chris asked. 

"Of course, I've been wanting to, I think it would be fun," Eijun said. "I just haven't found one that can use me." 

"I have a friend—full disclosure, it's my boyfriend—whose band has lost their lead guitarist. They're mostly a cover band, they play parties and bar mitzvahs and stuff, but they're not bad, and I'm pretty sure you'd fit right in. Jun is the bass player. I can get you an audition if you'd like. It's not going to make you famous, but it will make you some money and get you performance experience." 

"That would be amazing, thank you!" Eijun enthused. "That's awesome!" 

"Wait, now. You have to audition, so you may not get in," Chris said. "But I think you have a good chance. You're quick to pick things up and you're a hard worker. Those are the things that matter to them." 

"Yes, yes, yes!" Eijun said. "Thank you again." 

"I'll have Jun get with you and you can work out the details, alright?" 

"Yes, that's perfect!" 

"So, I'll see you on Tuesday?" 

"Yes you will," Eijun said, almost skipping as he left the store. 

Me: hey, howzit

Kaz: It's white tonight, but I'm good. Tired. 

Me: Lots of work?

Kaz: More like lots to work on, if that makes any sense. I'm trying to plot out the next few weeks worth of practices.

Me: U still in lessons?

Kaz: Not until after school lets out. Too busy. 

Me: sucks

Me: sorry

Kaz: It's not unexpected, we all do it. I just want to make sure that we do everything we can to be our best. 

Me: ull be great, ur u after all

Kaz: Thanks. 

Me: guess what!

Kaz: What?

Me: chris asked me if i wanted 2 be in a band. 

Me: his boyfriend has a band that needs a guitar player

Me: he plays bass

Me: it's like a cover band and plays parties and mitzvahs and stuff

Kaz: Really? That's great! It's so different performing for people who are paying you, there's no way to describe it. 

Kaz: When will you know?

Me: dunno. 

Me: hes going 2 have him call me and i have 2 audition

Me: I might not be good enough

Kaz: You're good enough. I know you are. 

Me: u think so? 

Kaz: Yes. But more importantly, Chris thinks you are. He's your teacher, he wouldn't steer you wrong. 

Me: yes, but u are the one i play with, u would know if i was ready. 

Kaz: For a cover band? You're more than ready. Plus you get paid, and you get to learn what being in a band is like. 

Me: yeah, i hope i get it, but i'm tryin not 2 worry abt it.

Kaz: Worry after the audition, okay?

Me: yeah, ok. Also, the 'rents want 2 knw if we can come 2 ur performances 

Me: srry, i meant 2 ask the other day and forgot. 

Me: we all want 2 come 2 them all.

Me: can we?

Kaz: Wait. 

Kaz: You want to come see me play?

Me: yes.

Me: we all do

Me: is that a problem?

Kaz: No, no. I was just surprised. Of course you can come. Which do you want to attend, the main one, the chamber orchestra, or the rock ensemble? 

Me: yes

Kaz: ? 

Me: yes, we want 2 c them all

Me: all the ones you're in that we can

Me: can u send dates, so the 'rents can c if they have off? 

Kaz: Sure, let me double-check, I'll let you know. You only need tickets for the main one, and that's on June 15th. I can get you however many you'd like.

Me: me 4 sure.

Me: lemme check, get back with u 2morrow

Kaz: Sounds good, and I'll get the other dates together for you, too. 

Me: great!

Me: thx, kaz

Me: get some rest, first chair, concertmaster, and soloist

Kaz: Don't remind me. But good night, Ei. 

Kaz: I'll talk to you tomorrow.

Me: yes, 'night

 Kazuya closed his phone and turned back to his calendar, emotions warring in his mind. Excitement and happiness that the Sawamuras, especially Eijun, wanted to come watch him play. He’d considered asking Eijun to come but hadn’t gotten up the courage yet. Warring with that was the pride—and worry, maybe a little jealousy—about the band audition. He did think Eijun was ready, and he did think it was good experience for him, but he was worried he’d drift away, worried he would be sucked into a world that didn’t have room for him. 

He decided that he’d do what he had to in order to make sure that didn’t happen. 

Decided, he closed the book and headed to bed. The rest could wait until tomorrow. 

Chapter Text

Friday afternoon, Eijun was just walking into his building when his phone rang. Digging it out of his pocket, he answered it without thinking.

"Hello?" 

"Is this Eijun Sawamura?" 

Eijun shifted his backpack up as he entered the lobby, footsteps echoing off the worn linoleum. "Yes, how can I help you?" 

"I'm Jun Isashiki," the voice from the other end of the line said, gruff and slightly intimidating. "Chris gave me your number, he said you played guitar?" 

Eijun came to a standstill beside the elevator, not wanting to get in and lose the connection. "Oh, yes. He did say he was going to give it to you." 

"Yeah, we're looking for a new guitarist, and he said you were good and a fast learner. Are you interested in being in a band?" 

I am," Eijun said, nodding his head although he knew Jun couldn't possibly see him. "I really am." 

"Okay, great. Are you free tomorrow afternoon?" 

Eijun thought about his non-existent Saturday plans. "Yes, I am."  

"Great, can you join us for our regular practice, and we can see how well you fit? We don't expect you to know any particular songs, so don't stress about that." 

"Okay, yeah. Where and what time?" He pulled his backpack around and unzipped the pouch to dig for a pen. 

"About 3:00. I'll text you the address. It's in the West Village, not too far from Chris's shop." 

Eijun let his backpack fall back into place."I'll be there," he agreed.  

"Great, see you then," Jun said, hanging up. 

Eijun finally pressed the elevator call button before sending a text. 

Me: he called, im trying out 2morrow 

Kaz: Wow, that's quick. Do you have something prepared?

Eijun stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for his floor before answering. 

Me: he said i didn't need 2, he wants me 2 join their practice and see how i fit in

Kaz: That's great, I'm sure you'll do well.

Me: i know ur in practice i just wanted to let u know. 

Me: Chat later?

Kaz: Yeah, I'll text you tonight.

Me: Okay, good

Me: Have a great rehearsal

Me: Tell Mochi i said hi

Kaz: Will do. Chat soon. 

Kazuya looked up from his phone with a slight frown. 

"What's with the frown? Was that your mom?" Kuramochi asked, screwing the lid back on his water bottle. They had just stepped into the hallway for a break when Kazuya's text notification went off. 

"No, Eijun," Kazuya said, sliding the phone back into his pocket. He reached out and swiped Kuramochi's bottle, twisting off the top and taking a big swig before recapping it and handing it back. "Thanks." 

Kuramochi just looked at him, unimpressed. "Get your own water next time." He took the bottle and leaned against the lockers that lined the hallway outside their practice room.  

Kazuya relaxed, glad he'd distracted his friend. "But Mochi, why should I when you have a perfectly good one in your hand. Don't you want to share with your oldest friend?" 

"Under normal circumstances, I'd be washing it down with holy water," Kuramochi retorted, which set Kazuya to chuckling. "But I know you're trying to change the subject, so why were you frowning?" 

"Observant as always, Mochi," Kazuya said, standing upright. "It's time for me to go back in, I should look over that next section before the flutes muck it up again." He stepped forward but was stopped by Kuramochi's hand on his arm. 

"No, it's not. Now you've really got me curious, because if you don't want to talk about it, it must be something important," Mochi said. "What gives? Did he find a boyfriend?" 

"Did he...? No!" Kazuya said, before surrendering to the inevitable with a shrug, leaning back against the lockers. "It's not that big of a deal, honestly, and I don't even know why it bothers me." 

"What's going on?" Kuramochi turned, resting his shoulder on the locker and facing Kazuya, who was currently inspecting the ceiling tile. "What happened?" 

Kazuya sighed. Sometimes it sucked having a super observant best friend. "Eijun's trying out for a band tomorrow, Chris recommended him." 

"He thinks he's ready? You don't agree?" Kuramochi looked at him closely. "No, that's not it, you wouldn't have said that if that was the case. You're jealous, " Kuramochi said, eyes widening. 

"No, I'm not!" Kazuya protested. "I just—" 

"Am jealous, you don't want him playing with anyone else, do you?" 

"I just think he's better than a Bar Mitzvah band," Kazuya explained. 

Kuramochi cackled. "You know he's not, not yet. He could be, but he's not. Admit that, at least." 

"Fine, fine," Kazuya said, pushing off the wall and standing upright. "He's not. He will be, but by the time he gets there, he'll be stuck in the bar mitzvah band and working in his dad's shop and he'll never go as far as his talent could take him."  

Kuramochi stood up straight and frowned at him. "Wow, where did all that come from?" Kuramochi asked. "Everyone has to start somewhere and Eijun can use the performance experience, you know this." 

"I do," Kazuya admitted, hoping if he gave a bit, that Kuramochi would back off. "I just don't want him to waste his talent, you know?" 

"I know what you mean, Kaz, but don't you think you sound an awful lot like your mom?" Kuramochi asked before sauntering off in the direction of the practice room. 

"Wait, what?" Kazuya sputtered, speed walking to catch up to his friend. "No, I don't sound like my mom. She wants me to play the piano instead of the violin. I just want Eijun to use his talent." 

"If you say so," Kuramochi said, heading through the doorway and towards his section. "If you say so." 

Kazuya stared after him and shrugged, unwilling to chase after him to try to make him understand. He headed to the front of the room, where the violins were seated. He'd been told at the break that the conductor would be late getting back and that he was to begin practice without him, so spent the next few minutes glancing over the section he wanted to review with the flute section as the rest of the orchestra filtered back in. 

Eijun was unable to settle. After he'd finished texting with Kazuya, he put his book bag in the corner of his room, with homework to be looked at later, and walked into their small kitchen. He looked at the fridge whiteboard to see if his mom wanted him to start anything for dinner, but she hadn't written him a note. It was Friday, though, and Friday nights were usually take-out nights, so it wasn't that big of a surprise. Pouring himself a glass of water from the pitcher in the fridge, he went back into his room and logged onto his computer. Even with the reassurance that he didn't need to know anything in particular, he still wanted to search and see what he could find.

There wasn't much. He found multiple sites with DJ's, but not a lot about live music. Shrugging, he moved over toward the bed and picked up his acoustic guitar, deciding to practice. He sat back towards the middle of his mattress and crossed his legs, cradling the acoustic guitar in his lap. With any luck, this would take his attention and hopefully he'd be able to concentrate and forget his nerves. He started on The Flight of the Bumblebee , working through the parts that were giving him difficulty and that demanded his total concentration. After about an hour, he heard the front door open and recognized the sound of his mother moving around. He needed to speak to her about the band—after he'd finished texting to Kazuya the night before, he’d gone to speak with her, but his parents’ door was closed and he knew better than to interrupt, short of an emergency.

"Hi, Eijun," she said, leaning on the doorjamb, still dressed in her scrubs and looking tired. She pushed the pieces of her hair that had escaped her braid out of her face and smiled at him. "That's sounding really good." 

"Thanks, Mom," he said. Setting the guitar to one side, he turned to face her. "How was your day?" 

"Tiring. There are some really scared new patients on the ward, so we have to do a lot of reassurance and handholding. What about you?" 

Eijun shrugged. "School was the same stuff, but I do have something I wanted to talk to you about." 

"What's that?" she asked. She pulled her hair back again, only to have it slide into her face immediately. Frustrated, she yanked out her hair tie. 

"It can wait, it's nothing bad," he reassured her, noticing how tired she looked, eyes dark and sad. "Why don't you go change and get a drink, we can talk then?" 

"Okay, if you're sure." She stood upright and gave him a soft smile. "You're a good kid, son of mine. I don't care what your parole officer says." 

Eijun snorted. "That joke was old when I was twelve," he said. "I used to be really worried about it, you know? Like there was some guy watching me that thought I was horrible." 

Chika laughed. "I know you did, that's why it was funny," she said, walking down the short hallway to the living room. "I won't be long." 

"Take your time," Eijun said, glad that she had the next day off and could get some rest. He picked his guitar back up, diving back into the passage he’d been working on.  

"So what's up?" Chika asked as she walked into Eijun's room, claiming the rolling chair Eijun used for his desk. Spinning in it, she turned to face her son who was still sitting where she left him, cross-legged and strumming his guitar. Looking at his face, she saw the barely repressed excitement and hope in his eyes and blessed the day that Eijun picked the guitar back up. She'd been extremely concerned about him and worried that she'd never see his eyes light up that way again. 

Eijun rested his chin on his hands that he’d rested on top of the body of the guitar, thinking for a second before he started. "During my lesson yesterday, Chris asked me if I'd like to be in a band. His boyfriend has one that needs a guitarist and he thinks I'd be a good fit," Eijun said, trying to work through it logically and in a way that his mother would understand. He needed her support in this, he had no doubt that his father would be over the moon about the idea. "It's a local band that plays weddings and bar mitzvahs and stuff. Chris wants me to try out. What do you think?" 

Chika considered carefully. She knew the toll a band could take, but she also knew that Eijun wanted this and that he was used to having a lot of his time dedicated to one thing. "I think you'll be great," she said. "I know you want to make money to help with your lessons, and this might be better than busking." She smiled at him. "Your father is going to be so proud. I'm so proud." 

He laid the guitar beside himself on his bed. "Mom, it's only a cover band, and I don't even know if I'll get in." 

"I know you will, you're good. But what's with this 'only a cover band' stuff? Do you think you're too good for it?" Chika asked, remembering the mental struggle Eijun had over the ace position. He'd figured it out by the time he was the ace, but until then, he was miserable about the idea that he wasn't good enough or important to the team. 

"No, no," Eijun shook his head, uncrossing his legs and sliding to the edge of the bed. "I don't think that at all. Not really." He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I want to play in a band. I like to be part of a team." 

"I know you've missed that," Chika said, leaning forward. "Okay, you have my blessing or permission or whatever you need. Let me know what's going on when you know something, okay?" 

Eijun smiled sheepishly. "I know something," he said. 

Chika chuckled, trying to muster a glare. "So, what do you know?" 

"Jun Isashiki—that's Chris's boyfriend—called. He wants me to join their practice tomorrow at three." 

"Oh, really? What did you say?" 

"I said yes," Eijun admitted. "I don't have anything I have to do, do I? I was planning on busking." 

"Only dealing with that," she said, waving her hand at his backpack. "I know you're planning on going down to Kazuya's house on Sunday, and I'd really like you to have your homework done before then." 

"Everything but my math," Eijun said, bouncing a little in place. "I'm taking that down with me Sunday. Kazuya's going to help with it." 

"Does he know about the band?" 

Eijun grinned just a little as he admitted, "He does, we texted last night."

"Is that why you didn't tell us? You were too busy talking to your not-but-oh-you-want-him-to-be boyfriend?" Chika raised an eyebrow in inquiry. 

"Mooom," Eijun protested. "You closed your door early. I wasn't about to barge in on you." 

"You could have knocked, we were just reading." 

Eijun wrinkled his nose, tangling his bare toes in the carpet at his feet. "I didn't want to take the chance," he said. 

"Anyway, what did he think?" Chika asked. She was curious, even being outside of the musical community she knew there was a prejudice against anything that wasn’t considered classical music. Kazuya hadn't acted like he espoused that idea, but this—something he wasn't involved in—might just make him less accepting. 

"He thinks I'm good enough, and that having performance experience will be a good thing." 

"He’s right about that," Chika said. "Okay, well, where's their practice? Do you have to go into Queens or something? Because that's going to be a long trip." 

"No, no. They're in the West Village, not far from Chris’s store. Jun's texting me the address—in fact, he may have already." 

"That's good." Chika stood, stretching out her sore back a little. "What do you think about dinner? Chinese? Pizza?" 

"We haven't had Chinese for a while," Eijun answered, picking his guitar back up. "That sounds good." 

Chika walked to the door. "The usual?" 

"Yeah, sesame chicken and an eggroll, thanks!" he told her, strumming the guitar and feeling the slight sting that meant a new blister was forming. "Thanks for everything, Mom." 

"You're welcome, son of mine," she said, stepping back into the room to kiss his forehead. "I love you." 

"Love you too," Eijun answered with a soft smile and she left to order the food, the soft strains of Mama, I'm Coming Home following her down the hallway. 

The sky was gray, threatening rain, as Eijun exited the station, climbing the steps at the Christopher St. stop. He'd looked at the map on his phone as well as the one that was posted downstairs in the main station area, trying to ensure he didn't get lost. The streets of the West Village were sometimes confusing, having been built before there was any kind of city design. They curved and ended and generally didn't make any sense, so he wanted to know exactly where he was going. 

He was early. The train was running on time for once, so he took his time getting to his destination, guitar on his back. He stopped at one of the stores that got his attention, a coffee and tea store that claimed it had been there since 1895. He believed it, the inside of the store didn't look like it had been updated since then. Opening the door, he inhaled as he stepped inside and slipped off his guitar case, the smell of roasted coffee beans was almost overpowering. He loved the smell as much as he didn't love the taste of the brewed product. The coffee wasn't why he was there, though. He wanted to get some tea for his mom. 

She loved all kinds of teas, so he wanted to get her something unusual that she'd appreciate. Hopefully. He knew she liked fruit teas, so he stepped up to the counter to speak with the salesperson waiting there. 

"Welcome to McNulty's how can I help you?" she asked, smile firmly in place. 

Eijun set his guitar in front of himself, standing it on one end to keep it out of the way. "I'd like to get some tea for my mom," he said. 

"I can help with that, what does she like?" 

"I think she likes black teas, especially flavored ones," he said. He looked over the wall of teas and panicked a little. "You have a lot of teas," he said. 

"We do," she laughed a little. "I can make a few suggestions, if you'd like." 

"I'd love that," he said, relief evident in his voice, shoulders losing some of their tension. 

"Okay, the peach tea is our most popular, but if you want her to try something different, we have a pineapple tea that's really good. Blackberry flavored is nice as well." 

"I don't think she's had either of those," he said. "I'll take a small bag of each, please." 

"Four ounces?" she asked. "That's about seven dollars for each of them." 

"That's perfect," he agreed, and she pulled both glass jars down, taking out two paper bags and scooping some into each. Setting the bags on the scale, she adjusted the amount inside each bag and when she was satisfied, she folded the top down and stuck a sticker on it to seal it. 

"Try to store it out of direct sunlight, but other than that, the tea should keep for a while. There are brewing instructions on the label. Does she have a tea ball?" 

"A what?" Eijun asked. 

"A tea ball, something to put the loose tea in," the salesperson explained. "You need to put it in something." 

"I don't know," he said. "How much does one cost?" 

She pulled one out of a jar full of them that was sitting on the counter. "Well, there are really expensive ones, but this one is perfectly good and it's only four dollars." 

Eijun grinned. "Sold, then. I don't know if I've ever seen her using anything other than a tea bag. If she has one of these already, I guess she'll have an extra," he said, pulling out his wallet and stepping down to the cash register where she was ringing up his purchases. 

"That will be eighteen-twenty," she said, after keying in everything. 

Eijun pulled a twenty-dollar bill out of his wallet and laid it on the dark oak countertop. "This store is really neat," he said. "So much tea and coffee." 

"Yeah, it really is," she agreed, taking his change from the register. "There are a lot of teas. And coffees, too, if you're ever looking." 

"I'll remember that," Eijun said. He stuffed the bag the cashier gave him into his guitar case. "I might be down here a lot in the future." 

"You come back and visit, then," she said. "Have a great day!" 

"You too," Eijun said. He exited the shop, looking back over his shoulder at the lettering in the window, all of which looked as old as the store purported to be. Glancing at his watch, he realized he had just enough time to get to the address Jun had sent, so he set off down the sidewalk at a trot, weaving through the usual Saturday afternoon mixture of shoppers and tourists and locals. 

Arriving at his destination, he was confused to see it was an antique shop with a window full of odd things, stuffed birds and old lamps and a plate or two. He climbed the two steps to the door and had started to pull it open when he heard a voice behind him. 

"Are you Eijun?"

Spinning and maintaining his balance by a hair, he looked at the person on the sidewalk. He seemed to be close to Chris's age, with light brown hair and a goatee. Before he answered, Eijun stepped down to the next, wider step. "I am." 

"I'm Jun," he said, holding out his hand. "Glad to meet you." 

Eijun took the outstretched hand and shook it. "You too," he said. 

"We're down here," Jun told him, indicating the stone steps that led to the basement. "We practice downstairs." 

Eijun nodded, eyeing the narrow stairway and dark entrance. "Okay, cool," he said, following Jun down, into the dank space. 

"Practice is on Saturday and Wednesday, in the evening. Unless we have a gig, then we can skip it," Jun told him as he pushed open the door and the sound of a keyboard drifted out. "We average three parties a month, more in December and over the summer, less other times. The rent for this practice space is taken out before the money is split evenly between the members." He walked through the doorway and Eijun followed him through, into a fairly well-lit space that seemed to be about half the size of the building above it. 

The walls were stone, with a mishmash of carpets on the floor. In one corner was a drum set, with another one set up against the same wall. A keyboard on its stand was placed near the drums, and there were several amps and guitar stands scattered around. Small windows near the top of the walls let in some natural light, but the majority was from the overhead fluorescent shop lights. A couple of mic stands were dotted around, microphones on top of the amps, plugged in and waiting. It looked like the rest of the band members were there as well, there was a large man behind the drums adjusting his chair and a tall, thinner one currently playing scales. 

"Here he is," Jun said as the door slammed closed behind Eijun. "Chris said he's got potential, so let's see what he's got." He turned to Eijun, pointing to the people behind the instruments. "Keisuke Miyauchi is the drummer, and Koichiro Tanba is our keyboardist and singer. Can you sing?" 

"Some, yes," Eijun squeaked out, nerves getting to him. He swallowed and straightened his shoulders. If Chris said he could do it, and Kazuya believed in him, he was more than able to do this. "I have, but mostly while busking." 

"Did you make any money?" the drummer asked, snorting. 

"Yes, I did, Keisuke," Eijun answered. 

"Call me Kei, please," he said. "If you made money, you must not have been horrible. That's good; Tanba can use someone who can stand in if needed." 

"Normally, it's fine," Tanba said. "I just need a break every once in a while." 

"Let me get set up and we'll get started," Jun said. "I'm sure there are some things we use that you know." He took a bass of one of the guitar stands and plugged it in, tuning up. "You can use that amp," he said, pointing to one of the amps on the other side of the drums. "Let me know if you can't figure it out." 

Eijun nodded his thanks, stepping quickly over to that side of the room. He efficiently unpacked his guitar, plugging it in and adjusting the amp so he could hear it, running through his tuning. 

"You're fast," Kei commented. 

"Thank you, I've been busking for the last few months, and when you're not playing, you're not earning," Eijun said, making a few minute adjustments with his fine tuners. 

"You ready?" Jun asked. 

Eijun nodded, swallowing. 

"Let's start with something easy," Jun said. "What's your favorite song to play?" 

"I don't have one," Eijun said, honestly. "What is something that you have to play all the time?" 

"How about Money? " Jun asked. 

"That's good, as long as it's not Freebird," Eijun snarked, and he heard Kei snort in the background. 

"You're going to have to play that often," Jun said. "Get used to it." 

Eijun shuffled his feet, embarrassed that he'd said anything. 

"I hate that fucking song," Tanba deadpanned and they all laughed. 

"It's fine, Eijun. We all hate that song. And there are others we hate, but you smile and play for the paying customers," Jun said. "The good times are the weeks we don't have a gig, then we go down to the Bitter End or somewhere and just play. That's the fun part." 

"Are we going to test this kid out, or just talk at him?" Kei asked, spinning his sticks between his fingers and tapping the floor pedal. 

"Okay, let's play. Eijun, I know you haven't been in a band before, so just do the best you can," Jun said. "Ready?" 

"Yup," Eijun said.

"While we're young," Kei said, and Jun started playing the bassline, and opening the song. Kei hit the drums, and Tanba fingered his opening notes. Eijun laid back a bit, mirroring Jun's part until the guitar broke off in the middle of the first verse. He did his best to keep up, losing things a time or two but quickly jumping back in. They finished, and Jun nodded approvingly. 

"That wasn't too bad," Jun complimented him. "Let's try something that's a little more guitar dependent. How about Freebird ?" 

Everyone groaned but nodded. "It's a good song to see his skills on, even if it is misery," Kei said. 

"As long as it doesn't include the ten-minute guitar solo in the middle," Tanba commented. 

"Okay, okay," Jun relented. " Sweet Home Alabama ?" 

"That's better," Tanba said. "Do you know that one, kid?" 

"I do," Eijun said. "It's one of my dad's favorites." 

"Okay, then. You start," Jun said, and he did, hitting the chords and notes exactly as written. Eijun hadn't been lying. It was one of his father's favorites and the first song he'd ever taught him. Because of that familiarity, it was the perfect song for him to audition with. 

"That was good," Tanba said after the last note had died down. "How's your improvisation?" 

"What do you mean?" Eijun asked. 

"Can you make up a solo? Take a song and make it your own?" Kei said. Eijun noticed that Jun was standing to one side, silent. Letting him defend himself. 

"I can," Eijun said, hand moving restlessly on the fretboard, mindlessly fingering Flight of the Bumblebee . 

Tanba grinned at his confidence. "Cocky. I like that. Let's see what you've got, kid." 

Eijun took a deep breath and let it out before launching into his version of Flight . As he got near the end of the section he knew well, he tapered off, hoping that it would sound like the end of the song, not as if it was the end of what he knew. Looking up, he saw the same look on all three faces. 

They were all looking at him as if he'd grown a second head. 

"That bad?" he asked, feeling like he'd somehow failed Chris. "I'm sorry, I'll just..." 

"No!" Tanba said, running his fingers over the keyboard. "I've never heard a guitar do that. I know how hard that is to play on the piano, and I...let's just say I'm impressed." 

"You're good," Jun said. "You sure you want to be in a cover band?" 

"Yes," Eijun nodded. "I do. I love being in a group and playing to each other's strengths. It was one of my favorite things about playing baseball. I want to get that back, I really do." 

"That's fair," Kei said, spinning his sticks. "If you don't mind slumming with us. Just don't get a big head about things, and we'll be good. If you ever feel like you're better than us, please just leave. I like you, kid. I'd hate to have to break you. Figuratively, at least." 

Eijun repressed a shudder. "I won't." 

Jun laughed. "Chris wasn't wrong when he said you'd blow our socks off. Welcome to The Senpai, Eijun Sawamura."

Chapter Text

"Give him the song list, Tanba," Kei said. "They're listed in order of their popularity. If you can play the first twenty or so, we can wing any party."

"I'll do my best," Eijun said, taking the paper Tanba held out. Looking it over he sighed, relieved. "I'm familiar with all of these and comfortable with probably half of them. I'll work on the others as well." He folded the paper and slid it in his pocket.

"That's great, we'll need you up to speed in a month or so, when things start getting busy," Jun said. "If you want, next weekend we're playing the Bitter End. It's all requests from the crowds, and they can get a bit strange, but it's fun to try and play things we don't know."

"Improv skills come in handy," Kei said. "But you don't have to come if you don't feel ready."

"He's right, we've been going it alone for a few months, since Brock flaked on us and would only play gigs," Tanba explained. "He didn't like doing things where he wasn't guaranteed a paycheck."

"And The Bitter End gig is purely 'pass the bucket', so there's no guarantee," Jun chimed in. "Anyway, I think we're done for the day, next practice is Wednesday, at six-thirty." He slipped his strap from around his neck and unplugged his bass from the amp before setting it into its case, closing the lid and flipping the locks.

Eijun did the same with his guitar, slipping his arms into the straps. Kei didn't do anything but put down his drumsticks, and Tanba turned off the keyboard but left everything where it was.

"Do you rent this space all the time?" Eijun asked.

"Naw," Kei said, climbing out from behind the drums. "It's a shared space; we couldn't afford it by ourselves. The drums and keyboard aren't ours, they're too hard to transport twice a week."

"I see," Eijun said, nodding. He watched as Tanba joined them in the middle of the room. 

"Where do you live, kid?" he asked.

"Riverside," Eijun said, exiting the door as Jun held it open.

"Straight shot on the 1 train?" Jun asked.

"Yup," Eijun agreed, stepping out and up the stairs.

"I'm in Brooklyn," Tanba said as he gained the top stair. "Sunset Park."

"Upper West," Kei said, joining them. " Way Upper West."

"We're here," Jun said, pulling the door closed behind himself. "We live in the West Village; Chris's dad owns a few brownstones in the area."

"You're a kept man, Jun," Tanba said.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, following them up the stairs.

"Want to grab some coffee, get to know the newbie?" 

"Sounds like a plan to me," Kei said. "You gotta be home soon, kid?" 

"Nope," Eijun shook his head. "I'm good for a bit." 

"Good. The usual?" Jun asked, to a general chorus of approval. "Okay, then. Let's go." 

"Where are we going?" Eijun asked. 

"There's a little coffee bar down around the corner, it's pretty crappy inside but they have great coffee," Tanba said. 

Eijun nodded and hitched his guitar up on his back. "Sounds good," he said, wondering if they'd have anything other than coffee on the menu. 

Following the rest of the band down the tree-lined streets of the West Village, Eijun looked around curiously. This was not part of the city he often visited, and he was fascinated by the buildings, the history of the place clear in the winding streets and little side alleyways. Further north and closer to the center of Manhattan, the city was planned out in a grid, but here it was clear it had grown up organically as the settlers had run out of room. Even the names of the streets were different, not numbers but names, like Christopher and Grove and Barrow. Further south it was even more twisted, in Chinatown and the Financial District, where there were roads hardly wide enough for two cars to go through. 

"Did you grow up here?" Kei asked. He'd fallen back and into step with Eijun while he'd been daydreaming, not realizing he'd gained a partner. 

Eijun nodded. "I did, I've lived in Riverside for most of my life. You?" 

"Yup. Queens. Jamaica," Kei said. "Now I'm living uptown, going to Columbia." 

"That's great!" Eijun said. "What are you studying?" 

"Math, I think," Kei said. "I'm not quite—" 

"It's down here!" Jun said, interrupting Kei.

"Let's hope there are some seats free." 

Tanba snorted. "This place is never full," he said.

"We'll be fine." 

"Yeah," Kei agreed. 

Jun opened the door. "Age before beauty," he said, letting everyone in before following them. 

For the second time that day, Eijun was assaulted with the smell of coffee, only this was brewed, not fresh. Following Kei across the worn wooden floor, he slid his guitar off his back and set it beside one of the chairs surrounding an empty table, and everyone took a seat except Jun. 

"Orders, please," he said, glancing at the non-existent line at the worn wooden counter. "I'll buy for the kid, but the rest of you need to pony up." 

"I'll have an iced coffee, hazelnut and cream," Tanba said, digging out his leather wallet and passing a few dollars over to Jun. 

Kei looked at the board with the day's offerings written in chalk. "Iced tea, please," he said, handing over his money. "Sweet, if they have syrup." 

"So, same things you always get," Jun snarked, and Tanba kicked at him under the table.  

Eijun smiled across the table at Jun. "Water, please." 

"No caffeine?" he asked. 

"No, I never really got into it. We were discouraged from drinking it when I was on the team." 

"Sounds like a story for a few minutes," Jun said. "I'll be right back, and you can tell us all. Don't badger him before I get back, got it?" 

"Yes, boss," Tanba agreed with a salute. Jun flipped him the bird and turned to the young man waiting patiently at the counter. 

"So, kid," Kei said, turning his attention to Eijun.

"How long have you been playing?" 

"Guitar?" Eijun asked. "My dad taught me when I was young, but I started playing seriously about eight months ago while I was in PT." 

"Eight months? Really?" Tanba lifted an eyebrow.

"And how long have you been taking lessons?" 

"Since January," Eijun told him. 

"Since January what?" Jun asked, handing everyone their drinks from the copper tray he'd carried over. He set it back on the counter, returning to the table and sliding into the straight-backed wooden chair next to Eijun.  

"That's how long I've been taking lessons," Eijun said, twisting the top off his bottle of water and taking a long drink. 

"He's only been playing seriously for eight months," Tanba told Jun. 

"No way," Jun said, taking a drink of his coffee and wincing at the heat. 

Eijun nodded. "My dad's friends with Animal Takigawa, he taught me the basics when I was little. About eight months ago, I started playing seriously, and in January, Dad said he'd taught me everything he could and asked Mr. Takigawa for a recommendation for a tutor. He suggested Chris." 

"Eight months and you're that good," Jun shook his head.

"Why are you just now playing? You should have started earlier." 

"Well, I was playing baseball..." Eijun started, going through the whole story, not really giving details but hitting the high points. 

"That sucks," Kei said. "I can't imagine losing the ability to play the drums, even though it's not what I want to do forever." 

"I know," Jun agreed. "I'm sorry, that's awful." 

"It's okay," Eijun said quietly, somewhat surprised that he hadn't teared up once in the retelling. "I do love music, so it's...well, not good, but it's okay." 

"Yeah, but still," Jun said, shaking his head sadly. 

"What about you? Why are you The Senpai, how did you meet?" Eijun asked, wanting to change the subject and to learn a little bit more about them. 

Kei snorted a laugh. " The Senpai has a double meaning," he explained. "We were all juniors when we started the band, so we were upperclassmen, plus we're all Japanese, so that's another reason. Mostly, I think Jun suggested it because it would translate into some great merch. 'Senpai noticed me' would be a fantastic slogan for a tee-shirt, don't you agree?" 

Eijun nodded and chuckled. "Yeah, that would be awesome." 

"Unfortunately, Bar Mitzvahs are not terribly conducive to merch sales," Tanba commented. 

"True, true," Jun said. "As for your other question, we all went to LaGuardia, the same year as Chris. I'm currently at Julliard, Tanba is taking a gap year before going up to Eastman, and Kei's not pursuing music, he's studying math, I think, at Columbia." 

Kei nodded. "That's right." 

"Oh, that's cool," Eijun said. "I have a few friends from LaGuardia." 

"Chris told me," Jun said. "Kazuya Miyuki, right? The violinist." 

"Yeah, and Youichi Kuramochi," Eijun told them. 

"The percussionist?" Kei asked. "I know him," he said. "He's good." 

"So is Kazuya," Jun told them. "He's the concertmaster this year." 

"How did you meet them?" Tanba asked. 

Eijun grinned. "Busking. Kazuya took my spot at the beginning of spring break and suggested we team up. We did, and we still are, as his schedule allows." 

"You're both juniors, right? He's bound to be swamped this time of year," Kei said. 

"He is. We play and practice on Sundays," Eijun said. "Wait, you guys went to LaGuardia, why did you start your own band? Didn't you have one for your class already?" 

"We did, and we were in it," Jun explained. "But we wanted—no needed to make some money, so we went out on our own." 

"Gotcha. So, did you set out to be a wedding band?" 

"Kinda?" Tanba answered. "We knew we'd make money and get experience if we sold ourselves as such, and we all know enough about music that we can play almost anything. We thought we'd be able to do other things on the side, but it hasn't worked out that way. We're just too busy to take the time to work on original stuff." 

"Makes sense to me," Eijun said, drinking more of his water. "I know how busy Kaz is, so it couldn't have been any easier for you guys. What's your plan for the band?" 

"We don't really have one," Jun said. "Tanba's off to the wilds of upstate New York in the fall, so if we can't find a keyboard player, I'm not sure what we'll do. This is really just for fun—I can't imagine any of us are going to be able to play much longer than this summer. Maybe next, but I'd think classes are going to get harder, not easier." 

"Fair enough," Eijun said. "But for now, we're playing at the Bitter End next weekend? When and what are we playing?" 

"We don't know yet," Kei answered his second question first. "But it starts at 8, open mic, Saturday evening." 

"We'll figure out some songs Saturday afternoon, but mostly we’ll play what the crowd requests," Jun said.

"Okay, just let me know if you think there's something I should work on," Eijun said. "I'd hate to drag you down." 

"You won't," Kei said. "It'll be fun, don't stress about it, kid." 

"I'll do my best." 

Eijun trotted down the busy street, dodging slower foot traffic and trying to remember the directions Jun gave him to get to Chris's store.

"He said one...no, two blocks down and to the right..." he muttered as he hit the corner on the second block and turned right. Looking up, he saw the street sign down the block, just where Jun said it would be. He let out a sigh of relief and slowed to a walk, checking his phone for the time. Ten minutes early, it would only take him about five to get where he needed to go, so stepping to one side, he sent a text. 

Me: u around?

He scrolled through twitter for a few minutes, waiting for an answer. None came. 

Me: u must be in practice

Me:  let me know when ur free 

Sighing, he slid the phone back into his pocket, adjusted his guitar on his back, and made his way to his lesson. 

"Eijun! How are you? Come on back," Chris said, motioning him to the practice room. 

"I'm good!" he said, walking through the store and greeting Animal. "Hi, Mr. Takigawa!" 

Animal grunted and nodded his head—he was restringing a violin and all his attention was on his work. Eijun continued down the hallway and into the practice room, taking the bottle of water from Chris with a smile of thanks. 

"You had your audition with the band today, right? How'd it go?" 

Eijun grinned at him. "I'm the newest member of The Senpai ," he said. 

"Good! I knew you could do it. How did you like the guys?" 

"They were great! I didn't know they all went to school with you." 

"Yeah, I didn't want to give you any ideas about them before you met. I felt like I needed to tell you about Jun, just as a personal thing, but I wanted you to go in cold." 

"What did you tell them about me?" 

"Just that you were my student and I thought they'd be impressed." 

"They liked my Bumblebee," Eijun said. "I got through the parts I knew well, not the whole thing." 

"That's more than enough," Chris said. "They're all music geeks, they know how hard that song is." 

"Kaz was surprised, too." 

"I'm sure he was." 

"They're also having me join them at the open mic Saturday evenings. We might have to shift this lesson, if you can fit me in some other time." 

"I'm sure I can—maybe before practice? That's at three, right?" 

"Yeah, that would work." 

"Okay, then, come by about two. That should give us plenty of time for a lesson and for you to make it to practice," Chris said.

"With that being said, what are we working on?" 

"I have a question about Bumblebee," Eijun said. 

"Okay, let's start there." 

"So, open mic night, huh?" Chris said as Eijun packed up his gear for the trip home. 

"Yeah, I think it'll be fun," Eijun said. 

"It's no pressure, so don't get nervous," Chris told him. 

"I'll do my best, I'm pretty good under pressure." 

"Good." Chris sat for a few seconds before coming to a decision. "Have you ever considered writing music?" 

"What? I'm not good enough to do that." Eijun sat back down in the chair, packing forgotten. 

"You don't have to be good at anything to do that ," Chris said. "I just...think about it?" 

"Think about what? If I'd want to write songs?" 

"Yes, if you think you'd like to try and write songs. The Senpai have never had a member that was a songwriter, so they've been stuck in the wedding band scene. It's not a bad gig, you get decent money, but I think they may like the chance to try something else," Chris rubbed his shoulder and sighed. "I don't know, I haven't really spoken to Jun or the others about it, so maybe just think about it? I think it might be something you're good at." 

"I'm not Kaz, I don't understand keys and music theory," Eijun said, doubt written all over his face. 

"You don't really need to understand all of that to write a good song," Chris said. "We've touched on some of it, and you know the chords, right? Plus, you've been doing it already, you've been adapting those songs for you and Kazuya to busk with. That takes a good ear and the ability to think about music dynamically, which is all you really need." 

"If you think so," Eijun said. "I'll think about it." 

"Also, you can learn about music theory easily. I'd be surprised if your school doesn't have a music theory class you could take, or you could do it online. We're also covering some here, and I'll think about ways to make that a larger part of our lessons." 

"I'll check around, I'm just not sure it's something I'd be good at." 

"I get that, just think about it," Chris said gently. "I think it would be good for you." 

Eijun started to pack up the rest of his bags. "I'll do that," he said.

"Good," Chris said. "Let me know if you need any help or want an opinion." 

"I will," Eijun said. "I hope you don't regret the offer." 

"I won't," Chris averred, and Eijun believed him. 

"See you on Wednesday?" 

"I'll be here." 

Kazuya walked quickly down the darkened hallway, violin slung over his back, heading out of the school and towards home. He'd just finished the last rehearsal of the day, the eleventh-grade rock band, and he was tired from a long day of back-to-back practices. Home and food and bed were the only things on his mind. At least that he was willing to acknowledge.

"Hey, Kaz! Wait up." 

He slowed, recognizing the footsteps echoing in the empty hallway as Kuramochi. There was a pang of frustration that he quickly suppressed as he tilted his mouth in his most offensive smirk. "What's up, Mochi?" he asked. "Didn’t get enough of me today?" 

"Hush, you," Kuramochi said, stepping sideways into him and making him work to maintain his balance. "What happened with Eijun?" 

"What do you mean?" Kazuya asked, hoping his friend had forgotten the last conversation they'd had about him. 

"The band audition? That was this afternoon, right?" He hit the release to the side door, and they stepped out into the dark of a mid-May night.  

"Oh!" Kazuya said, walking quickly, hoping to get to their normal separation point before Kuramochi...well, was himself. "I don't know." 

"He hasn't contacted you? That's probably not good, then." 

"I don't know what happened. I turned my phone off before chamber practice; you know how crazy Mr. Mulligan has been recently. I didn't want anything to set him off." 

"You didn't turn it back on? Or check it?" Kuramochi asked. "You're still hung up on this being a wedding band, aren't you?" 

"No!" Kazuya insisted. "It's not that." 

"Liar." 

"I just...I told you, I don't want him to get stuck." 

Kuramochi frowned at him, unimpressed. "And if he wants to get 'stuck' as you call it? What does that even mean?" 

"I mean that I want him to take his talent as far as he can, and not to settle for something less." 

"Who are you to dictate how far he needs to take things?" Kuramochi asked. "Isn't that the same thing you're arguing with your mom about? Everyone, including yourself, knows you're a better pianist than you are a violinist, but you love the violin. So that's what you want to play. And I'm all for that, but you can't push Eijun into some mold you've built for him if he doesn't want it." 

"That's not what I'm—" Kazuya stopped, and stopped walking, dropping onto a nearby bench. "I'm not trying to force him into something he doesn't want to do. I just don't want him to settle for less than what he's capable of doing." 

Kuramochi sat on the bench beside him, leaning back and looking up at the night sky. "That's not your choice, though, is it?" 

"I guess not, but I just..." Kazuya laughed, a quiet, bitter thing. "I guess I understand where my mom is coming from a little bit, now." 

"It's never a bad thing to be able to put yourself in the other person's shoes," Kuramochi noted. "You have to let him find his own way, Kaz. And if he's happy being a part of a Bar Mitzvah Band for the rest of his life, you should be happy for him, happy that he's doing something he loves and is content." 

"I guess...but he has so much talent, it would be a shame to waste it," Kazuya said.

"Maybe, but that's not your decision. I think it would be better to be content with something less than what you could achieve than being frustrated that you can't get any higher." 

"Yeah, that's true. But I...well, I'll take your advice and try to be more supportive of his decisions. I mean, I am, but I'll try to not push him past where he wants to be," Kazuya said, standing and continuing to walk towards the train, grinning at the sound of Kuramochi scrambling up from his seat. "Speaking of being where you want to be, what's up with you and that second movement? You're falling behind." 

"I'm...yeah," Kuramochi said with a frown. "But you've got to fix your solo during Light My Fire. It's super lame."

"It's better than your solo during Hard to Handle, " Kazuya said. "Talk about lame..."

Kuramochi barked out a laugh and gave Kazuya a shove, and they bickered all the way to the train station. 

"I'm home!" Eijun said, toeing off his shoes and lining them up neatly before heading back to his bedroom. 

Chika popped her head out of the kitchen. "Hey! How did it go?" 

"Good! Let me put my stuff down and I'll tell you about it." Eijun said, setting his guitar on the bed and digging out the bag of teas he'd gotten. He walked out to the kitchen, where his mom was washing the dinner dishes, and hopped up onto the counter, legs dangling and feet knocking against the cupboard doors. 

"So, what happened?" Chika asked as she put the pile of freshly washed plates in the cupboard. 

"First, I got you something," Eijun said, holding out the bag. "I found this really cool store called McNulty's, and, well, you'll see," he said. 

"You don't have to get me anything, you should be saving your money for lessons," Chika admonished him. 

Eijun shook the bag a little, wanting her to take it. "I wanted to," he said. "And it wasn't much." 

Chika smiled at him fondly and took it. "Well, then, thank you." She set the bag on the counter and opened it, pulling out the tea ball. 

"I didn't know if you had one," Eijun said. 

"I don't, I don't drink loose teas much, but I suspect that might change," she said, with a grin. She pulled out the two teas and looked at them carefully. "Pineapple and blackberry?" she said, reading the labels. "I haven't ever had those, they both sound good." She kissed Eijun on the cheek. "Thank you, son of mine. I love you. And the tea."

Eijun grinned at her. "Love you too, I know you've been sacrificing so I can take lessons and stuff and I wanted to give you something to enjoy." 

Chika turned from where she was filling the electric kettle with water to give him a glare. "You know we're happy to do it, you don't have to pay us back." 

"I couldn't if I tried," Eijun said. "I just wanted to give you a little something to let you know I appreciate it." 

"That's okay, then," she said, putting the kettle on its base to warm. "Now, what happened with the audition?" 

"Oh, yeah!" Eijun said. 

"Don't tell me you forgot." 

"No! It just...wasn't in the front of my brain." 

"That's the same as forgetting, Eijun," she deadpanned. 

Eijun huffed out a breath. "If you're going to give me a hard time, I'll just go to my room." 

"Don't you dare move from there," Chika said, picking up her empty mug and threatening him with it. "Start talking. And for future reference, giving you a hard time is in the job description." 

"Okay! You don't have to injure me," Eijun laughed. "You're looking at the newest member of The Senpai ." 

" The Senpai ? Is that the band name?" Chika asked as she decided which tea to try.  

"Yep!" Eijun said, nodding.

Chika filled the tea ball with the pineapple tea. "Congratulations! I want to hear all about it," she said, adding the boiling water to her cup. "But before then, are you hungry? I made you a plate." 

"Starved!" Eijun said, and she took the plate out of the refrigerator and put it into the microwave to reheat. 

"While that heats, tell me what happened." 

"Yes, oh aged parent of mine," Eijun said, ducking her swat even as he started to recount the events of the afternoon. 

me: Sorry! I was in rehearsals all day and our chamber orchestra conductor is super strict about phones. I turned it off before practice and forgot to turn it back on until now. I just got home.

eijun: it's 10:30 

eijun: thats crazy

eijun: what time did they start?

me: 11. But it was for all three groups, so it lasted a long time. 

eijun: u have 2 b so tired.

me: Exhausted. But it's pretty tonight, I made a video. <mov.mp4>

eijun: green sparkles! that's so cool

me: Yeah, it's for the Robin Hood foundation. 

me: How was the audition?

eijun: we can talk about it 2morrow 

eijun: u should get some sleep

eijun: i don't want to keep u up

me: Ok, come over early, and we'll talk before practice. 

eijun: works for me

eijun: goodnight, kaz

eijun: sleep well

me: 'night, Ei. 

Kazuya closed his phone and stuck it on the charger. He sat on his window seat in the dark, looking out the window, enjoying the green lights sparkling in the distance. Leaning his head on the window, he let the weariness of the long day settle in his bones, acknowledging the ache in the small of his back and in his shoulder. Two more weeks. They only had two more weeks until the end of the season, the last of the recitals and concerts and competitions. He could do this for two more weeks. His stomach twisted with stress, but he swallowed it down. 

He could do this. 

He had to do this. 

He had to. 

Chapter Text

Kazuya took a deep breath, relaxing before he opened the door and stepped back, inviting Eijun in.  

"Hi, Kaz!" his friend said, stepping inside and sliding his guitar case off his back as he slipped off his shoes at the same time.

"Hi, Eijun," Kazuya answered, oddly charmed by the efficiency of the movement. "How are you today?" 

"I'm good!" Eijun exclaimed, standing upright. "How're things for you?" 

"Busy," Kazuya said, unconsciously rolling his right shoulder. He braced himself and asked, "How did it go yesterday?" 

"Great! You're looking at the newest member of The Senpai!" Eijun said proudly. 

"The Senpai?" Kazuya echoed. "Isn't that—" He broke off, realizing they were still standing in the hallway. "Hang on, let's grab some drinks and go up to the music room." 

"Sure thing," Eijun said, following Kazuya into the kitchen where Norio was busily stirring something on the stove that smelled amazing . "Good morning, Mr. Miyuki!"

"Hi, Eijun," he answered, watching his son as he retrieved a couple of bottles of water from the fridge. "Brunch is in a half-hour or so, so don't get too wrapped up in things before then." 

"Okay, Dad," Kazuya said, handing Eijun a bottle. 

"It smells fantastic in here, Mr. Miyuki," Eijun said. 

"Thank you, Eijun," Norio answered, returning his attention to his cooking. 

Eijun grabbed his guitar case and trotted up the stairs behind Kazuya, heading for the practice room. He leaned the case against a bookcase that was stuffed with sheet music and sat in one of the old wooden chairs at the table, opposite Kazuya. 

"The Senpai," Kazuya started. "That's Jun's band, right?" 

"Yeah," Eijun said. "I thought you knew, I told you I was trying out for Chris's boyfriend's band." 

"You did, but I wasn't sure which boyfriend it was, I didn't know The Senpai was still together."

"Wait," Eijun said, raising a hand. "Chris has more than one boyfriend?" 

"Yeah, he has two. Jun and Tetsu." 

"Do they know about each other?" 

"Of course, they're a threesome," Kazuya said. "Didn't...well, clearly, you didn't know. Yes, he has two boyfriends, and yes, they're in a poly relationship." 

"I had no idea," Eijun said, looking gobsmacked. 

Kazuya frowned at him. "Do you have a problem with that?" 

"No, why would I? I just honestly didn't know." 

"Okay, alright. So The Senpai are still together, huh?" 

"You know them?" 

"Everyone at Julliard knows them," Kazuya said. "Well, anyone who was there when I was a freshman," he amended. "The administration was not happy about them going outside of the school, and forming a wedding band, of all things. They were horrified." 

"That's kinda what they said," Eijun said. "They'd lost their lead guitarist—I guess he got tired of being in a wedding band. So now that's me, and I'm singing, too. We're playing an open mic thing next Saturday, you should come if you have time." 

"I will," Kazuya agreed. "If I can, I don't know how late we'll be next week." 

"Yesterday was pretty rough, huh?" Eijun sympathized. "If you're too tired to busk, we can just hang out here, maybe play some but not too much. You probably need a day of rest." 

"I don't want to take you up on that, but I think I should," Kazuya said. "Maybe we can go busk for a bit anyway, I'll bring my bass and that way I'm at least playing something other than my violin." 

"That's a good plan, we'll do that," Eijun said. "We should practice some like that, then, so we can get in synch." 

"First, tell me about the audition." Kazuya was looking forward to the information, now that he knew that Eijun wasn't in an unknown band, he trusted those musicians to look out for him.  

"So first of all, you know Jun's at Julliard, right?" 

"I knew he'd gotten in, I didn't know if he'd gone after Chris's issues." 

"Yes, he did. And Tamba's headed to Eastman in...Rochester? I think? This fall, he took a gap year." 

"Is Kei still drumming?"

"Yeah, he's at Columbia, studying Math. But still playing, just not as his major." 

"That's good, he's a great guy. They're all great, I'm sure you'll be happy playing with them. What did you audition with?" 

"They made me play Freebird, can you believe it? And then they asked what the hardest song I knew was, and I played Flight of the Bumblebee." 

"I'm sure they were impressed," Kazuya said. 

"Seemed to be," Eijun said. "They had a hard time believing that I'd only been playing seriously for six months, too."

"You're pretty good, now that you have some theory to underlie your talent," Kazuya admitted. 

"Oh! Guess what?" 

"What?" 

"Chris wants me to think about writing music. What do you think about that?"

Kazuya felt his eyes widen in surprise, but then let his mind work the question. "I think you'd probably do a good job. No, I think you have the mind to do a great job if it's something you want to do. You're good at transposing the songs we do, and you hear things that I don't even hear. I think you should try it. If it doesn't work out or you don't like it, that's fine."

"Would you help me?" Eijun asked. 

"What do you mean?" Kazuya asked. 

"I don't know chord structure and theory," Eijun said. "I think I need to know that stuff, don't I?" 

Kazuya shook his head. "No, you really don't," he said. "You understand how music sounds and you can hear in your head what works and what progressions sound good. The only thing I'd suggest you might want to get is a small keyboard, so you can work out the melodies to write the music out, but other than that, you've got everything you need in your head." 

"Thanks, Kaz," Eijun said. "That means a lot, coming from you. I'll try it, I just need to get some music paper, and I can pick that up at my next lesson." 

Kazuya stood and walked over to the nearest bookshelf, pulling down a spiral notebook. He sat back down and handed it to Eijun. "It's called staff paper, and you can have that." 

"You're sure? What are you going to use?" 

"I have plenty, we order them by the dozen," Kazuya said. "I don't write a ton, but I do some, so it's nice to have around." 

"Okay, thanks!" Eijun said, flipping through the book. "I hope I do it right." 

Kazuya sighed and held out his hand, laying it on Eijun's. "You'll be fine. If you want, I'll look at it after you write something, but don't worry so much about it." 

"Really?" Eijun asked. "That would be great!" He jumped up and stuck the book in the outside pocket of his guitar case. 

"Bring it by next week if you have anything and we'll look it over," Kazuya said. "Now, before brunch, do you need any math help?" 

"Oh, god, yes," Eijun said, pulling out his math worksheets from the same pocket. Good thing he hadn’t sat down yet. "It's derivatives, and I just don't get it." 

"Yeah, those can be tricky to wrap your head around," Kazuya agreed. "Come here, let's get started." 

"So, Eijun's joined a band," Kazuya told his father as they sat in the nook eating eggs benedict and home fries. 

"Really? That's great!" Norio enthused, stirring some creamer into his coffee. "What kind of band?" 

"It's a wedding and bar mitzvah band," Eijun said. "But I've never really played with anyone other than Kazuya, so it's good for me to get some experience." 

Norio nodded. "It is. Is that what you want to do? Or are you planning to do what Kazuya is, go to college to study music?" 

"I don't know yet," Eijun said, helping himself to some more potatoes. "I do know I don't plan on going to college right away, I don't know what I want to be when I grow up." 

Norio leaned close and whispered, "Neither do I." 

Eijun snorted a laugh and continued. "I'll probably work at the shop with my father and play in a band when I have time, at least until I do figure out what I'm going to do." 

"That's a sound plan," Norio said. "I know there are some who insist that kids should always go to college straight out of high school, but if you're not sure what you want, it's not a sin to give yourself time to figure it out."  

"Just be careful, yeah?" Kazuya said. "You don't want to hurt yourself on those machines." 

"True," Eijun agreed. "I will." 

Kazuya pushed the door to the diner open, holding it for Eijun, who followed him inside. 

"Well hello, boys," Dolly said, looking up from behind the counter where she was refilling sugar containers. "Good to see you. The usual?" 

"Yes, please," Eijun said as he followed Kazuya across the black and white checkered flooring to their usual booth. He took off his backpack and slid into the red vinyl bench, leaning it against the wall. Kazuya sat across the table, his bass case in a similar position. 

"That was fun," Kazuya said. "I really like playing the bass, we should do that more often." 

"I'm glad, I didn't want to wear you out with more violin," Eijun said. "The performances are coming up and I know you're going to be happy when they're done." 

"You have no idea," Kazuya said. "Speaking of which," he reached into his case and pulled out an envelope. "Here are the tickets you wanted. There are four for the orchestra concert and two for all the others. If you want to bring more than two people, don't worry about it, there are always a ton of tickets for everything but the main concert." 

"Thanks, Kaz," Eijun said. "I'm looking forward to them, I'm sure they'll be great." 

"I hope you're not disappointed," Kazuya said. They both grinned at Dolly who set a huge plate of fries between them, followed by drinks and a bowl of ranch dressing. "Thanks, Dolly." 

"You're welcome, Kazuya. Let me know if you boys need anything else now, you hear?" 

"We will," Eijun said. "Thanks!" 

Eijun dipped a fry into the ranch dressing and considered his next words. "What's the matter?" 

"What do you mean? Nothing's the matter with me," Kazuya said. 

"What's wrong, honestly," Eijun said. "You were there for me, now I'm here for you," he said. 

Kazuya sighed and looked down at his plate, shoulders slumping. "Honestly? I'm exhausted. And stressed about the concert, there are so many things that could go wrong. The flutes are still not in synch and the violas wouldn't know a time signature if it hit them in the head. Chamber is a little better, there aren't nearly as many people there to mess up, but it still needs so much work. And then there's the rock band, which is the best of the bunch because nobody cares about it." He meandered to a halt. "I just have to get through the next couple of weeks and then I can relax." 

"And your shoulder? What's wrong with it?" Eijun asked. 

"My shoulder? There's nothing wrong with my shoulder," Kazuya insisted. 

Eijun looked at him levelly. "Don't lie to me. I've seen that look before. On my face, when I was trying to convince myself that my elbow was fine, that I just had to get through a few more games, until the end of the season. Well, my season—my baseball—ended before I could get it looked at. So don't tell me you're not in pain, I can see it." 

"It's just overwork," Kazuya said. "It'll be fine after the concerts, I'll rest it then." 

"Kaz," Eijun said. "Don't lie to me." 

"I'm not!" Kazuya insisted. "I don't think it's anything but overwork." 

"I don't think you're above lying to yourself about it," Eijun said. 

Kazuya nodded. "You're right, I'm not. And it hurts. But I don't have that much time left, I just have to get through the next two weeks. Ten days."

"Then you'll go get it checked out?" Eijun said. "This week?" 

"I can't."

"Why? Worried they'll tell you that you can't play?" 

Kazuya huffed out a breath. "Maybe? I know I need to rest, and I'm going to baby it as much as I can, but I need to play, to finish out the season strong."

Eijun sighed and shook his head. "You know that's not the best thing, Kaz. You need to take care of your body, it's as much your instrument as your violin, but you can't use your backup if it gets broken." 

"I know, I do," Kazuya said. "What do you want me to do? I need to play, Ei, I can't miss this." 

"I understand," Eijun said. "I do, but you don't want to end up like Chris." 

"You don't think I know that?" Kazuya asked. "I know that could happen and I know what caused it to happen, but I don't have a choice, do I? Not if I want a future in performance." 

"You have a choice, but neither option is great," Eijun said. "You can go to the doctor and make sure you remain as healthy as possible or you can just keep playing and hope you make it through." 

Kazuya shifted in his seat, eyes downcast, but brain working. "There has to be a third option. Maybe something between the two?" 

"What are you thinking?" 

"A couple of things. What if I kept playing, but we figured out some ways to keep my shoulder as good as possible? I don't think it's serious, it's only been hurting since Monday." 

"That's a good thing and you could be right, but you still should have it checked out." 

"I will, after the last show, okay?" 

"Alright," Eijun said reluctantly. "But you have to promise me that if it gets worse, you'll go see the doctor." 

"I promise," Kazuya said. 

"I mean it," Eijun told him. "I'm going to be checking on you. And if I think you're lying, I'll tell Mochi." 

"You would." 

"Damned straight." 

"I'll baby it as much as I can, ice it and use heat, whatever I can to make it feel better," Kazuya told him. "Thank you for worrying, I appreciate it." 

"You'd better," Eijun said. "I'm serious, and I'm going with you to the doctor so I can hear what he says." 

"I said I'd go, you don't need to come," Kazuya argued. "I can take myself." 

"You can, but I know you. You'll downplay." 

"I might, true," Kazuya said, munching on a fry contemplatively. "You know what really sucks about this?" 

"What?" 

"My mom. She's going to be over the moon about it because it's going to give her a chance to try to steamroll me back into the piano."

"You know what you should do," Eijun said, mulling the possibilities. 

"What's that?" 

"Tell your dad." 

"No way, he'd tell my mom, make everything worse," Kazuya said, shaking his head. 

"You could ask him not to, to give his word that he wouldn't," Eijun suggested. "He's a doctor, he can see if he thinks it's anything serious." 

"He's a neurosurgeon , Ei," Kazuya pointed out. "Not an ortho-anything." 

"I know that, smartass," Eijun said, lobbing a french fry at him. "But he's a doctor first, right? So he'd know if it seemed serious." 

"Maybe?" 

"You could ask my mom if you'd rather. She's a nurse, so not quite as educated as your dad, but she knows stuff, too." 

"No, no," Kazuya said, eyes going distant as he considered his options. "That might not be the worst idea I've heard." 

"Alternatively, I could tell Mochi." 

"That is the worst idea I've heard," Kazuya deadpanned. "Do you have any idea of how much of a mother hen he can be?" 

"Nope," Eijun said. 'And I honestly don't care. What's it going to be?" 

Kazuya glared at him, eyes narrowed and growled in frustration. "Fine, I'll talk to my father," he conceded. 

"You'd better." 

"I will." 

"Tonight." 

"No, I—"

"Tonight," Eijun repeated, and Kazuya glared at him. 

"Okay, yes. Tonight." 

"Good," Eijun said. "You're probably right and it's nothing, but it's better to be safe, right? And if he's not worried about it, it will probably ease your mind somewhat, so that would be less stress for you. Also, you'd have him running interference for you with your mom as well as helping you if you need it." 

"Those are all good points, but you didn't have to blackmail me into doing this." 

"I think I probably did, knowing you," Eijun said. "You didn't seem like I was going to be able to convince you." 

"You know, you're right," Kazuya agreed. "So, well played." 

"I just don't want you to get hurt, is that such a bad thing?" 

"No, it isn't. Thank you for looking out for me, even if it's not exactly the way I would have preferred it." 

Eijun grinned at him. "We can't have everything our way, now, can we?" 

"We can try," Kazuya muttered into his coffee, earning himself a kick under the table. 

Kazuya slid back into the booth. "Sorry 'bout that, where were we?" 

"Crazy Train," Eijun said. "Do you want to—" he stopped when Dolly walked up to the table with a slice of chocolate cake that had a candle in it, lit. 

"Sorry, darlin', we don't run to singing 'round here, but happy birthday, anyway," she said, setting it in front of Eijun before walking away. He looked at it, and then Kazuya, with shock. 

"It's not my birthday yet," Eijun said. 

"I know, it's Tuesday, right? The fifteenth?"

"How did you...?" 

"You're two days before Mochi, I remember you guys talking about it," Kazuya said. "And he reminded me yesterday that his birthday was this week, so I knew yours was, too." 

"Thank you," Eijun said, touched by his thoughtfulness. "You've got so much other stuff on your mind, it's amazing that you remembered." 

Kazuya smiled at him and simply said, "You're welcome," biting back the words that wanted to flow, something about how he was always on his mind, even when he wasn't around or something else equally sappy. And true. But still, sappy enough that he'd have to turn in his teenage-boy card.

Eijun dug his fork into the cake, pushing it towards Kazuya. "Have some!"

"Shouldn't you blow out the candle first?" Kazuya snarked, charmed by the expression of chagrin on Eijun's face. 

"Oh, yeah," he said, closing his eyes, lips moving, before he opened them and blew out the small flame. 

"What did you wish for?" 

"It's a secret, Kazuya Miyuki," Eijun said, scandalized. "If you tell, it won't come true." 

"That's what they say," Kazuya agreed, picking up a fork and helping himself to a small piece. He ate it and grimaced, putting the fork back down. "I wanted to bake you your own cake, but I just don't have the time." 

"You can bake?" Eijun asked, eyes sparkling, with his fork frozen halfway to the cake in front of him. 

"Yeah, and I like to do it," Kazuya said. "I just don't have the time right now." 

"You are crazy busy," Eijun agreed. "Your last concert, it's next Wednesday, right?"

"Right." 

"So you can take it easy until the end of the school year?" 

"Almost," Kazuya said. "We have the state competition the following weekend, and then I can take it easy. The piece we're playing is something we all know well, so we're not going to be doing a lot of prep for it anyway. I won't have to practice it, except during classes." 

"Okay, so. After that?" 

"Yeah, I can give my shoulder a break after that, I'll go to the doctor to confirm it just needs some rest." 

"What about the National Youth Orchestra? Aren't you doing that?" Eijun asked. 

"How do you know about the...Oh yeah, Chris told you. I don't know," he said, taking another bite of cake. "The invitations haven't gone out yet, it starts in early July and runs through mid-August." 

"So you'll have about a month off?" 

"If I'm accepted, yes. If not, I'll have a little longer." 

"Alright, I guess we'll just have to see how things play out, then," Eijun said. 

Kazuya nodded. "Yup." 

Eijun pushed the empty cake plate away and glanced at his watch. "I'd better head home, you need your rest." 

"I'll walk you to the train," Kazuya said, standing and throwing some money on the table to cover their food. "I'm hopeful I can make it to your show on Saturday, the rock band concert is Thursday so I won't have that practice." 

"It would be great if you could, but if you're too tired, please just go home." Eijun joined him, following him out the door. "I know you're exhausted." 

Kazuya lifted one corner of his mouth in a small smirk. "I will, but if I tell Mochi about the show, I'm not sure I'll have any kind of a choice." 

"If you want to tell Mochi, please do," Eijun said, the bells on the door jingling as it closed behind them, stepping down the twilight-lit street. 

A streetlight buzzed on as Kazuya walked under it, the crowd on the sidewalk less dense than usual, making walking side by side comfortably possible.  

"Why don't you?" Kazuya asked, one eyebrow raised. 

"I will," Eijun said, nodding decisively as he paused on a corner to let a taxi turn in front of them. "I haven't told him what happened with the audition yet, I wanted to tell you first." 

Kazuya knocked their shoulders together as he stepped off the curb. "That's...thank you for that," he said. "You could have told him, though." 

"I know," Eijun said, stopping at the corner Kazuya normally turned for home. "I didn't want to." He waved as he walked away. "Get home safe, talk to your dad."

Kazuya stood there, unable to think of two words to string together, struck anew by how very much he liked the boy who was striding away. His light turned and he crossed, heading home.

"Dad?" Kazuya said, knocking on the doorframe of his father's office. Norio didn't work from home, but he liked having a place he could go that was his own space. Akemi wasn't fond of some of his musical and reading choices, so he had his own space for all of this in a room that Kazuya suspected used to be the butler's room in the back of the house. The floors were hardwood, matching the rest of the first floor, with hunter-green walls and a large oriental rug on the floor. Bookshelves lined the room and although Norio had a large desk on one wall, he was most often found in one of the two leather armchairs near the window, reading. That's where he was when Kazuya walked in. Norio looked up and smiled at his son. 

"Hi, Kiddo," he said. "How was busking?" 

"Good," Kazuya said, stepping into the room. "I haven't played the bass like that for a while, I had fun." 

"I'm glad," Norio said, watching Kazuya closely. He wasn't used to him looking almost...nervous?

"Are you busy? I'd like to talk to you about something," Kazuya asked.

"No, not at all," Norio said. "Just hiding from your mother, reading my trash," he said with a chuckle. "Join me?" he asked, indicating the other chair. 

Kazuya nodded, folding himself into the seat, feeling the leather enfold him like an old friend. These were his favorite chairs in the house—they brought back so many memories of afternoons and evenings reading beside his father. He set the water bottle he'd brought on a coaster carefully, not wanting to mar the surface of the wooden table between the chairs. 

"What's up?" Norio asked. 

Kazuya shrugged, trying to work out where to start. "I need to ask you something, but I need you to not tell Mom. Can you promise me you won't tell her?" 

Norio stared at him, noting the insecurity of his posture, worried about his son. "I can promise you that if I think it'll be harmful for you to not tell her, I will. But unless I think it's necessary, I won't. And if I feel like I should, I'll discuss it with you beforehand, so we can agree on what it is I tell her. Is that good enough?" 

Kazuya let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "It is, I can work with that." 

"Okay, then. What's up?" 

"It's my shoulder," Kazuya said. "I think it's just overworked, but I'm a little worried about it and Eijun suggested—actually, he blackmailed me, the brat—into telling you about it and asking for help." 

Norio blinked, this wasn't anything like what he'd expected. "Okay, so, I'll get you a doctor's appointment and we can make sure that's all it is." 

"I can't, not yet," Kazuya said. "I have concerts and competitions until the weekend after next, and I'm sure she'd tell me that I needed to rest it and not play. I promised Eijun I'd go, but until then, I have to play. I can rest it afterward." 

"But if you've got an injury, it'll get worse. You could do permanent damage," Norio said. 

"I...I don't think I do," Kazuya said, a little bit of desperation in his voice. "I...will you look at it for me?" 

"I'm a neurosurgeon, Kazzo, I don't know what good I can do." 

Kazuya chuckled wryly. "That's what I told him. But he said you were a doctor, so you know the basics, and you might be able to ease my mind about it. And you might have suggestions about how I can baby it in the interim." 

"He's...well, he's not wrong," Norio said. "I can do that much for you. You don't want your mother to know, why?"

 "Because she'd take the opportunity to try to force me back to the piano," Kazuya said. 

"Yes, I can see why that would be a concern," Norio said. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose and setting his book with his reading glasses as a bookmark on the side table. "Alright, let me look at it. If it seems like you've done any real damage, I'll take you to the doctor myself. Let's go into the kitchen, where the lighting is better." 

Norio led Kazuya into the kitchen, having him sit on one of the upholstered stools that lined the side of the island. "Slip off your shirt and let me look," he told him. 

Kazuya stripped off his polo, laying it on the countertop. Norio inspected his shoulder, looking for signs of swelling and damage. 

"Is it hurting right now?" Norio asked. 

Kazuya shook his head. "It hurts in the morning sometimes, and after I've played for a while," he said. "No other times." 

"Any tingling or numbness in your fingers or arm?" 

"Nope, it's just the shoulder that's sore," Kazuya said, allowing his father to rotate his arm. 

"Can you move it, please? All around and to the back and front?

Kazuya complied, and Norio watched his face carefully. "No pain?" 

"Nope." 

"Okay, put your shirt back on," Norio said, sliding onto the stool next to him. "I don't think you've done any permanent damage. No nerve damage or range of motion issues that I can see. But that doesn't mean you haven't overworked it, or that you don't need to take it easy. I won't tell your mom, but you have to baby it, okay? Rest and heat and cold, you know what you should do." 

"Thanks, Dad," Kazuya said, more relieved than he was willing to admit. 

"I only have one question for you." 

"What?" 

"What did Eijun blackmail you with?"

Kazuya sighed, looking betrayed. "He threatened to tell Mochi." 

Norio barked out a laugh. "Smart kid," he said. "You should keep him around." 

"I hope to," Kazuya said, hopping down from the stool. "Thank you, Dad." 

"Anytime, Kazzo," Norio said, watching his son trot up to his room. 

If he hadn't already liked Eijun, he did now.

Eijun was sitting on the train as it made its way up the island, thinking about the day. Remembering a bit of the conversation he'd had with Kazuya, he pulled out his phone. 

Me: hi, mochi

Mochi: Hey, kid

Me: so im in the band

Mochi: That's great! Im sure youll be great. 

Me: thx. 

Mochi: Does Kaz know?

Me: yeah. 

Me: were playing an open mic thing on saturday night if u wanna come.

Mochi: Ye! Lemme know when and where.

Me: kk

Me: text u later

Mochi: Night, kid. 

me: Told my dad.

eijun: good

eijun: what did he say???

me: He thinks it's just overworked and that I need to take it easy.

eijun: im glad

me: Thank you for making me ask, I really do feel much better.

eijun: im even more glad

eijun: gladder

me: That's not a word. 

me: But thanks. A lot. 

eijun: ur my friend, what else should i do?

eijun: get some sleep, ur exhausted

me: Goodnight, Eijun. 

<image> 

Chapter Text

Tuesday, Eijun received two texts he wasn't expecting.

One was good, the other was...not as good. 

Mochi: Happy birthday, Eijun! I hope it's a good one. 

Me: thank u!

Me: how are things?

Mochi: Good, will be better after Thursday

Me: b-day or concert?

Mochi: yes

Jun: Hey, kid. We're going to have to cancel practice tomorrow night. We're in the middle of reading week, finals start Monday. We'll see you Saturday, we have plenty of things to play! If you'd figure out Pride and Joy and Flirting with Disaster, that would be great! 

Me: okay, i will! thanks for the heads up.

Jun: See you saturday at 3. 

Me: yes

Eijun sighed, sliding the phone back into his pocket. He wasn't resentful, not really. He understood, but he was disappointed. "Happy birthday to me," he said, under his breath as he headed up the hill towards his apartment. Rereading the text from Jun, he realized that he actually did have a present...he had only a vague idea what Flirting with Disaster sounded like.

He searched Spotify and found the song, pressing play. 

This was...more complicated than he thought.

He grinned, mind racing. 

Thursday night saw Eijun sitting beside his father on the train, headed to LaGuardia for the rock band concert. Eidan was the only one of his family interested in going—he was always thrilled to see live music, especially rock. 

"What are they playing?" Eidan asked. 

Eijun shrugged. "I don't know, Kazuya wouldn't tell me. He seemed excited about whatever they were doing. This is his fun concert, but he didn't give me a song list." 

"That's fine; the surprise is half the fun, right?" 

"Sometimes," Eijun admitted. 

"What about you? Your band, what's happening with them? Didn't you have practice last night?" 

"I...oh!" Eijun said, realizing that he hadn't had the chance to speak to his father since the weekend. "No, they didn't practice, they're studying for finals. We are playing an open mic on Saturday night, though. At The Bitter End?" 

"The Bitter End? Saturday night?" Eidan said. "That used to be...more like a crowd request night, with a theme. Is that still true?" 

"I don't know, Jun did mention the crowd making requests, but he didn't say anything about themes."

"He didn't tell you to learn certain types of songs?" 

"No, but he asked me to try and work out Flirtin' with Disaster and Pride and Joy," Eijun said. 

"So it's Southern Rock, then," Eidan said. "Molly Hatchet and Stevie Ray Vaughn." 

"You know them?" 

"Stevie Ray is someone you should listen to," Eidan said. "If you haven't already. He's amazing. Very southern, very good. Southern rock was never my strong suit, I was more into the modern rock and alternative scene, but I do know that it's not easy to play." 

Eijun nodded. "You're right, it's not. I'm having to work at it a little bit, which I like. I hope I can get it before Saturday." 

"You're singing, right?" 

"Maybe? I'm trying to learn the songs so if they need me to, I can." 

"Good kid," Eidan said. "So, what do you think about Stevie Ray?" he asked, and he and Eijun fell into a discussion about the guitarists—and songs—that he was currently working on until they reached their stop. 

"Here we are," Eijun said, walking into the LaGuardia auditorium lobby accompanied by his father. He exchanged their tickets for a pair of programs and looked around at the red-carpeted room curiously. There was a whole bank of windows to one side looking out over Lincoln Center, with benches scattered throughout, and one curved wall punctuated by warm, wooden double doors. 

"We're in here," he said, motioning towards the recently opened doors, and they started walking that way. 

"Eidan!" came from behind and they turned to see Animal walking towards them with a big grin on his face. 

"Animal!" Eidan said, hugging the other, with a swift clap on the back. "I haven't seen you in a while, how are you?" 

"I'm good!" his friend said. "And Eijun's here, too? What brings you here tonight?" 

"Eijun has a couple of friends in the junior band," Eidan said. 

"You do? Who?"

Eijun nodded. "I do, Mr. Takigawa. Kazuya Miyuki and Youichi Kuramochi." 

"Kazuya's that kid you brought around a few weeks ago, right? The violinist?" 

"Yes, sir." 

"I'm told he picked up where Chris left off, right?"

"Yes, I think so. He's the concertmaster this year." 

Animal frowned. "What's he doing playing for this band, then? Isn't it beneath him?" 

"He originally joined because Mochi asked him to," Eijun said. "And I think he stayed because he's having fun." 

"Good enough reason, if you ask me," Eidan said. "Why are you here, though?" 

"I check these concerts out every year," Animal said. "I'm always looking for good studio musicians, and if these kids are willing to play in this band, they're not too snotty to be in the studio. Some kids—and their parents—look down on us, but I know these ones won't." 

"These are juniors, though," Eijun said. 

"Well, yes and no," Animal said, then went on to explain. "There are two bands playing tonight, the juniors and the seniors. Did Kazuya not explain to you how this goes?" 

"He didn't," Eijun said. "We haven't spoken much, though, he's been busy." 

Animal nodded. "Yes, he has. Okay. This is LaGuardia, and everything is about competition and working to be the best, right? So they can't just have a simple rock concert, with the students choosing the setlist, can they?" 

"Apparently not," Eidan said. 

"So, what happens at these is this. There's a theme for the night, and each band has to pick some variation of that theme. For instance, if they said the theme was 'trends of the '90's', they could pick Grunge. So that's the first part. Then there's the second part, the three 'I's. Imitate, interpret and improvise. Imitate, they have to do a note-for-note copy of the song. Interpret, they have to take a well-known song and change it up, but keep it recognizable. Improvise is the hardest, they have to draw a song out of a hat that holds twenty or so songs, and play that." 

"Do they know what songs they are choosing from?" Eijun asked. 

"They do, in that the songs fit their theme." 

Eidan whistled. "That's tough," he said. 

"That's what's expected of them here," Animal said. "Now, they don't have to play the improvisational song immediately, they do get the time the other team is playing to practice backstage." 

"That's what, ten minutes?" Eijun said. "I guess that's better than nothing, but still." 

"What do you think your Saturday evening at The Bitter End is going to look like?" Eidan asked. "Pretty much the same thing, I'd guess." 

"Maybe," Eijun said pensively. 

"So it's like a round-robin, and each team is scored on each song, out of ten. Whichever team has the best score at the end of the night wins." 

"Do they actually win anything?" 

"Bragging rights," Animal said as the house lights flashed. "Let's go sit, see what happens, shall we?" 

"After you," Eidan said, following his friend into the theater. They found seats about a third of the way back and sat, Eijun in the row right in front of the two old friends. 

"So, what do you think about your kid, here?" Animal asked. "Think he's anywhere near as good as you were?" 

Eidan snorted. "Are you kidding me? He outstripped me months ago, why do you think I sent him to you? The only things I have on him are performance experience and some technique, both of which he's in the process of gaining. I expect him to be twice the musician I was." 

Animal nodded. "I happen to agree," he said. "From what I've heard from Chris and with my own ears, you're almost dead right. I think, though, that he already has the technique. You should have him play 'Flight of the Bumblebee' for you sometime. You'll be amazed." 

Eijun, embarrassed, slid down in his seat, opening the program. "Hey, it looks like the theme is Music Festivals." 

"Woodstock, am I right?" Eidan said.

Animal nodded. "Possibly," he said. "Or maybe Live Aid?" 

"That's a good one. Glastonbury?" 

"Could be," Animal agreed. "It doesn't say what festival they've chosen, does it?" 

"It doesn't," Eijun said. "I'm assuming they had to tell someone in advance, right?" 

"Right," Animal said. "They need to research the bands and find appropriate songs for the improv part." 

The lights in the auditorium went down and an adult came out in front of the curtain, into the spotlight. "Welcome to the LaGuardia Junior and Senior Rock Band Competition, we're glad you could make it. I'm Maxwell Anderson, and I'll be your host for the evening." He then ran down the rules as Animal explained them, including the fact that the last band, the seniors, would only have one song’s worth of time to figure out their last improv piece. 

"This year's theme is Music Festivals, and the teams will announce their choices when they play their first set. I can tell you that although the festivals they've chosen are several decades apart, the bands do overlap to some degree. Well, to a good degree, actually." 

"Woodstock and Live Aid?" Animal asked. 

Eidan nodded. "Sounds about right." 

"So let's give a warm welcome to the junior rock band," the announcer said, and the crowd clapped as the curtain pulled back. The band was already on stage when the lights went up, and Eijun sat quietly, watching as Kazuya adjusted some of the settings on his keyboard and Mochi settled on the drum stool, spinning his sticks. The singer stepped up to the mic. 

"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for coming out to support us. We appreciate it more than you know. We've chosen the Isle of Wight festival, 1970, for our Music Festival. For our first imitation number, we're doing 'Light My Fire' by The Doors." He nodded at Youichi, who hit the tom once before Kazuya took off with the opening organ line, and Eijun found himself watching the whole band closely, seeing how they worked together and played off each other. They didn't have any real room to make the song their own, since it was supposed to be a note-for-note adaptation, but seeing them play with an eye to how they communicated and took care of their parts was fascinating for him. The song ended with one final chord, and as the organ faded out, the auditorium filled with applause. 

"Thank you," the singer said. "My name is Kenjiro Shirasu, and I'm a junior in the vocal performance track. The pianist is actually a violinist—he's the current concertmaster, Kazuya Miyuki. The guitarist behind me is Norifumi Kawakami, studying cello, and the bassist is Hisashi Watanabe, he's the brains behind the operation as well as studying performance management. On drums, we have Youichi Kuramochi, a percussion major." He took the microphone out of the stand and stepped to one side. "The Isle of Wight festival in 1970 was a five-night festival that was such a disaster for the area that it was the last one for 32 years, they didn't have another until 2002. The lineup included The Who, Jethro Tull, Jimi Hendrix, and, of course, The Doors. It was the biggest music festival to that date, surpassing everything else, including Woodstock. Our next song, the first of our interpretations, is from Jethro Tull. We don't have access to a flute, but we had some other ideas." 

Kazuya stepped out from behind the piano, walking over to the back and opening a case. Eijun saw a flash of red and felt his eyes widen in surprise as his friend walked out to the main stage carrying his electric violin. Checking the tuning, he turned it up loud enough to be heard through the speakers and nodded. Mochi tapped out a rhythm with his drumsticks, and Kazuya started playing, joined by the guitar. Eijun recognized Bungle in the Jungle almost immediately, not sure if he should be flattered or annoyed that they'd hijacked his idea. 

He decided to be amused. 

After a song that bounced the leads back and forth, familiar but not completely comfortable, they finished to a hearty round of applause. As soon as they were done, Maxwell Anderson came back out on the stage, carrying a large hat. 

"Now's the time we're going to have you pick your first improv song. You’ll have about ten minutes to work through it, and you will be provided with a recording and the lyrics. We aren't looking for perfection, remember, we just want to see how you can do with what you're given. Also, either all the songs are songs the artists performed at the festival or they're songs that they had recorded before the festival. Okay, who's going to draw this?" He held out the hat. The singer motioned to the bassist. "Nabe, you chose." 

Nabe came forward and felt around, taking one of the folded papers from the black top hat and handing it to him. He unfolded it, and read the contents. "This is going to be a good one, ladies and gentlemen. You have drawn a song from Chicago, 25 or 6 to 4. The lyrics are on the music stand in the green room, as are instruments for you to work with. You have until the seniors are done to figure the song out." The juniors left the stage, heading to the back. 

Kazuya looked up as Mochi fell into step beside him. "That's not as bad as it could be," Kazuya said. 

"We all kinda know it, at least," Mochi said. 

"And the riff is very recognizable," Kazuya said. "How do you feel about it, Nori?" he asked the guitarist. 

"I'm good," he said. "What about the horns, though. That's the problem." 

"Don't worry, I'll cover that with the keyboard," Kazuya said. 

"Okay, then. How are you with the lyrics?" 

Kenjiro nodded. "Good, I don't know them all, but I do know the tune, so I should be fine."

"Alright, then," Nabe said. "We were lucky, we got an easier song for the first one. The rest may not be as easy." 

Kazuya nodded as he slid behind the keyboards, he knew he had the hardest part of this song, and he was glad. "Let's run through this, okay?" 

"Of course," Nabe said, plugging in the bass, watching as Nori got his guitar hooked up. Mochi adjusted the drum stool, twirling his sticks when he was ready. Nori started, with Mochi and Nabe jumping in, followed by Kazuya playing the keyboard, copying the horns that were such an integral part of Chicago's sound. As they worked through it, Kazuya listened for whatever he could hear from the auditorium. The first song they played was Fame, and it must have been their interpretation, because the time signature had changed, from what he could hear. Second, he heard a little bit of what sounded like a spot-on version of Money for Nothing and spoke up.

"They're doing Live Aid," he said, exchanging a grin with Nabe. That had been the festival Kazuya had originally suggested, but Nabe gently steered him away by reminding him of the rules. The songs they could choose from were any songs in the artist's catalog, no matter when they performed or recorded them, but the songs in the hat were only things that had been performed or recorded prior to the festival. So, the possible improvisation song pool was going to be much larger for acts like The Who, while both teams would have access to the whole catalog, regardless, for their imitation and interpretation songs. Nabe suggested Isle of Wight 1970, and after a simple Google search, Kazuya agreed. 

As the song faded, the juniors ran through the sticky parts one more time before shutting down the instruments, prepared for their set. As the seniors came through, they smiled, nodding. 

"How'd you do?" Kazuya asked. 

"Brass in Pocket," the drummer told them, looking a little worried. 

"You'll be fine, it's just a basic punk beat," Mochi said. 

"Yeah, thanks. Good luck out there," he said, hurrying to join the rest of the band. 

Kazuya looked out over the auditorium as he took his place on the stage. With the house lights raised a little, he could clearly see Eijun in the audience and smirked at him, getting a small wave in return. He turned on the keyboard and flipped a few switches, testing the sound until he got the one he wanted. Looking over at Nori, he nodded, and Nori started playing. 

They weren't perfect, but that was fine, they weren't expected to be. What they were expected to be was competent and resourceful, which was what they attempted to show. Kazuya was pleased with their performance, even as he automatically categorized what they could have done better. 

Once the song was over, Nabe moved to the microphone. "Hello, I'm Hisashi Watanabe, the bass player. This next song is going to be our imitation song for this round. As classically trained musicians, we were all thrilled to see Emerson, Lake, and Palmer on the list of participants, and could not resist this song in particular. Fanfare for the Common Man, written by Aaron Copeland, as interpreted by ELP. We'll be following that with Baba O'Riley by The Who, and it's our interpretation piece. Thank you for listening." 

Kazuya met Mochi's eyes, before starting. This song was very keyboard-heavy, but Kazuya didn't mind carrying it. It was a nice compromise between the rock the band wanted to play and the classical that their teachers would have preferred. He couldn't wait for the lecture about his violin, although that may not happen if he didn't actually play it anywhere other than the rock band concert, since he didn't expect any of the teachers that would have problems with it to be there. As soon as they were done with that song, they jumped right into their next one. There wasn't a lot changed, mostly time signatures and the switching of the violin for the organ again. 

As they finished, Maxwell returned to the stage, hat in hand. "What's up for you boys next, I wonder?" 

Nori stepped forward and reached into the hat. He handed the folded slip of paper to Maxwell and stepped back, waiting for the reading. 

"Whiter Shade of Pale, Procol Harem." 

The band shuffled off, Kazuya thinking furiously while he heard Mochi pulled aside for an update from the senior drummer. 

"This is a pretty simple song," Kazuya told the band as they assembled. 

Nori nodded. "I remember listening to it, right? We didn't cover it too much, though." 

"True, but it's another organ-heavy song," Mochi said with an eyeroll. "Whatever shall you do, Kazuya? We all know you hate the limelight." 

"Shut up," Kazuya said without heat. "I could play the organ part on the violin if you want," he offered, holding up the instrument that he'd brought backstage. "Or we can make the keyboard sound like a Hammond, if you'd rather." 

Everyone looked at Nabe for a decision. 

"I think we should just...what would you rather do, Kaz?" Nabe asked. 

"I'm always going to pick the violin," Kazuya said. "But in this case, the organ might be smarter, since it's such an integral part of that song." 

"Play the violin," Mochi said. "I'll be surprised if you don't already know how to play that organ line on the violin." 

Kazuya nodded. "I do. But this is a band, right? It's not only my decision." 

"Play the violin," Nori agreed with Mochi. "But we need to run through it at least once, so let's get on it." 

Kazuya nodded and picked up his violin, plugging it into the amplifier. "Let's do this, then." He started playing the notes, watching the others and bringing them into the song. This one went a little smoother—the song wasn't easier, but it was something they all knew and didn't have a lot of variations. This round, Kazuya heard Somebody to Love and a slower version of Paranoid that he made a mental note to ask Eijun about later. The seniors finished and came backstage, grins on their faces. 

"Saturday's All Right for Fighting," the drummer told Mochi, who grimaced. 

"I wish we'd get something like that," he said as they headed out onto the stage. 

Plugging in their instruments, they started to play their improvised song, with Kazuya handling the violin parts without any problems. They played it fairly straight, with the only real difference being the violin. After the song, Nori stepped forward. "Good evening, my name is Norifumi Kawakami, and I play the guitar. That was Whiter Shade of Pale by Procol Harem, and it's our improv piece. The next song we're doing is our imitation song, The Story in Your Eyes by The Moody Blues. Our interpretation song is If You Want Me to Stay by Sly and the Family Stone. Thank you for your attention." 

Neither song was heavy on keyboards, although it was a part of each, so Kazuya left his violin in the stand for them. Their version of If You Want Me to Stay was his favorite of their interpretations so far. They'd slowed it down a good bit, but still kept it bass-heavy with plenty of funk, settling into the groove smoothly. After they finished, they drew another song out of the hat. 

"Touch Me, The Doors," Maxwell announced, and they left the stage. 

"Lucky," muttered the drummer to Kuramochi as they walked by each other. 

"This is nice," Nori said as they grouped up in the practice room. "We did this one last year." 

"We did," Kuramochi agreed. "Do you all remember?" 

"Of course," Kazuya said. 

Kuramochi frowned at him. "Nobody asked you, maestro." 

"Thank you," Kazuya answered. 

"I remember," Nabe said. 

"Me too," Kenjiro said. 

"Well, then, let's get to it," Kazuya suggested, flipping on the keyboard and adjusting the sound to resemble the Vox Continental that Ray Manzarek favored. He nodded at Nabe and waited for Kuramochi to tap them out a count of four, and they started together, the bass and organ sounding together, with the guitar and drums jumping in after a few beats. They ran all the way through the song without stopping. As they finished, Kazuya recognized the opening strains of One and later, after their third run-through, he heard California Girls. 

"Suite: Judy Blue Eyes," the drummer said. 

"Bummer," Kuramochi answered. "That one's tough if you haven't practiced it." 

"We haven't."

Eijun was enjoying himself immensely. Both bands were amazing and he wasn't sure if it was his own bias that thought the juniors were better, or if they actually were. He was amused at the number of times Kazuya had managed to fit in the violin, and thrilled to see him play the electric one in concert. The seniors were working hard, too, but that last song was an unfortunate choice, since Crosby, Stills, and Nash was such a harmony-driven band. He hoped they were able to figure it out. 

Waiting for the last set, he wondered what else they'd pull out. He didn't know anything about the Isle of Wight 1970 festival, so he couldn't even speculate—at least not about any of the bands they hadn't played a song from yet and he thought there were probably quite a few of those. There had been some grunts of approval and low murmurs behind him when the festival was announced, so he thought they had probably made a good choice. 

He watched as the juniors took the stage. They were starting with a Doors classic, so he wasn't surprised to see Kazuya land behind the keyboard, that band was very much known for the sound of their organ. He watched in admiration as they did a nearly note-perfect version of the song—their past improvs had been good, but not this good. As soon as they were finished, Kazuya climbed out from behind the keyboard and headed to the microphone. 

"Good evening, and thank you for coming out to the show. We hope that you've enjoyed this show, no matter which class you came out to support. I'm Kazuya Miyuki. I'm studying violin, and am the current concertmaster and first chair of the Senior Orchestra. The improv song we just performed for you was Touch Me from The Doors, and we have our last round of prepared music coming next. First, for our imitation song this round, we're doing All Right Now, by Free. The second song, our interpretation, is a song that's been one of my favorites for a very long time, and I was recently reminded about how much I've always liked to play it on violin, even though it wasn't originally intended for that instrument. We hope you enjoy these last two songs, and the rest of the show." 

The room broke out in applause, and the music started as Kazuya ran back behind the keyboard, flipping a few switches before coming in at the right time. Eijun was amused by his attitude, it was clear to him that Kazuya loved being on stage and in the limelight. What he didn't understand was why Kazuya didn't recognize that about himself, but maybe he did, and Eijun didn't realize it. That would make more sense, and Eijun brought his attention back to the show rather than worrying about unnecessary things, watching again and taking notes about performance and interactions, both with the audience and with each other.

Kazuya was a little...nervous, maybe, about the last song. He'd deliberately not said its name, hoping to keep it a secret for a while. As they finished up the Free song, he scooped up his violin and headed out to the front of the stage, where Kenjiro was walking back to stand near the drums, picking up a tambourine to entertain himself with. Kazuya let out a breath, nodding at the rest of the band before starting out in the familiar two-chord progression. He resisted the temptation to look out into the audience and see Eijun's reaction. Kuramochi came in after a few measures, with the guitar and bass joining, and they played together until the first line of the lyrics while Kazuya took the main melody. Kenjiro didn't sing at all, the vocal line was covered by the violin, just like it had been ever since the first time Kazuya and Eijun had played together in the subway. Kazuya lost himself in the music, realizing again how much he loved playing the violin, like this, with a group of friends. As the song finished up, he resolved to chase this feeling and find a way to make it part of his life on a regular basis. 

They finished, to thunderous applause and a standing ovation from the audience. As they regained their seats, Maxwell came back out with his hat. 

"Once more, shall we?" he asked, holding it out for Kazuya to pick. 

"Let's see...," he said, unfolding the paper before reading it. "Season of the Witch, Donovan." 

Kazuya heard a few groans from behind him but kept his smile wide. He knew this song. They were going to be fine. 

"Season of the Witch," Kuramochi told his senior counterpart. 

"What's that?" 

"Exactly." 

Kuramochi followed the rest of the band into the practice room, noting the long faces. Well, all except Kazuya, who looked anything but worried. 

"Don't tell me," he said, eyeing Kazuya. "You know this." 

"Aww, don't be like that, Mochi," Kazuya said with a smirk. 

"I know it, too," Nabe said. "I can play the guitar part." 

"And I'll sing," Kazuya offered. "Unless you are familiar, Kenjiro." 

"Nope, I don't know it at all," he said. 

"Okay. Mochi, it's nothing special, you shouldn't be too lost," Kazuya said. "It's pretty much a basic folk beat." 

"Alright," Kuramochi said, "Let's see how this goes." 

Nabe and Nori exchanged instruments, and Kazuya stood at the mic. "This is one of my favorite songs, honestly." 

Kuramochi played a quick paradiddle, trying to relax himself a little. "Do you think we should listen to it first?" 

"We can play the first part if you want," Kazuya said. "You'll get it pretty quickly, it doesn't change up much." 

"Okay, great," Kuramochi said, and Nori started playing the queued song through the speakers. Kuramochi started playing the beat, nodding as he figured it out, and Nori did the same, fingers hitting the bass notes. After about half the song, Nori nodded. "I'm good. Mochi?" 

"Yeah, let's go," he said. "You sure about singing, Kaz?" 

"Yup," Kazuya said. "I want to try, and I'm sure about this song." 

"Okay, let's work this out, then," Nori said. "Nabe, you're up." 

Nabe started the guitar, and then Nori and Kuramochi joined, with Kazuya stepping up to the mic to sing. They ran through it twice, as they listened to the seniors, recognizing Whole Lotta Love followed by American Girl. They'd been too busy trying to figure out their song initially to pay attention to their improv, but Kazuya was sure they'd managed somehow. 

After they'd unplugged all their equipment, they went out to play their last improv. 

Passing the seniors, they had their last exchange. 

"Hungry Like the Wolf ." 

"Niiccee," Kuramochi said. 

The drummer nodded. "Good luck." 

"Thanks." 

Heading out to the stage, Kazuya headed to the microphone, while the others took their places. He smiled out at the audience. "Hello again. Our last Improv is a bit of one, we're actually mixing things up a bit. Nabe is playing lead guitar and Nori is on bass, while I'll be singing. Here's our interpretation of Season of the Witch ."

He closed his eyes and waited for Nabe to start. The band did as they'd practiced, and Kazuya opened his eyes right before he started singing. "When I look out my window..." He got through the song, stepping back when they were done and waiting for the rest of the band to step up beside him and they all took a bow, to the raucous applause of the audience, who rose to their feet to give them a standing ovation. Kazuya looked out over the crowd and met Eijun's eyes, giving him a wide smile. He stood upright, and they shuffled off stage, Kazuya grabbing his violin and case as he walked by, planning to pack it up in the back room. 

Eijun sat back down, watching the seniors run through their last improv piece, waiting for the results of the judging and thinking about what he'd seen. Kazuya was...well, he wasn't a great singer, but he had a nice voice. That, more than anything, was something that Eijun felt would be good to pursue. It would be nice to share the vocal duties with Kazuya when they played together. 

Kazuya, for his part, had packed up his violin and was waiting with the others for the judges to call them back on the stage. The seniors had headed back, and they all sat around the green room waiting for the judges to call them back in, drinking water and talking quietly amongst themselves. 

After ten minutes, one of the ushers came to fetch them. They followed him out to the wings of the stage, where he motioned them into the bright lights. 

"Here they are, ladies and gentlemen, the junior and senior class rock bands," Maxwell introduced them as they stood on stage. "I have the judges’ scores here, and let me tell you, this was a tight race. Remember, every round had a max score of ten, three for the prepared pieces and four for the improv piece. After adding the totals, the difference between the bands was less than one point." 

He opened the envelope and unfolded the piece of paper he found there. "The winner of this year's junior-senior band competition is...the juniors!" 

The teams shook hands, congratulating the others on a game well played, while Maxwell looked on with a smile. 

"Let's hear it for both of these teams that did amazing jobs, shall we?" The audience leaped to its feet, applauding and cheering as the teams bowed again, before trotting back off stage to collect their things and head out. 

Eijun trailed his father and Animal up the aisle to the lobby, where they stood off to one side to wait for the musicians to emerge from the back. 

"That was smart," Animal was saying to Eidan when Eijun caught up to them. "The Isle of Wight fest gave them more room to play around with than they would have had with Woodstock." 

Eidan nodded. "You're right. I wouldn't have thought of it, though. Someone in the group is clever." 

A door slammed open and Animal looked over. "There they are! There are some seniors I wanted to talk to, so I'll be back in a few. That guitar player..." he said, making a beeline to the other side of the room. 

"So, Eijun," Eidan said to him. "What did you think?" 

Eijun grinned. "I thought they were all pretty amazing. I'm glad the juniors won, of course, I think they deserved it." 

"And they're your friends," Eidan said. "And possibly more?" he teased, gently. 

"Dad, don't," Eijun glared. "Seriously." 

"I won't, I promise. But he's a nice kid, I approve," he said. 

"Glad to hear it," Eijun said. He met Kazuya's eyes across the room and Kazuya nudged Kuramochi, nodding at Eijun. They started to make their way over. "They're on the way, behave, okay?" 

"Yes, sir," Eidan said. "So, what was your favorite song?" 

"I...well, there were a lot of them I liked, and I saw things that I want to think about, but I think—" he was interrupted by an arm slung around his shoulders. 

"Glad you could make it!" Kuramochi said, braying out his signature laugh. "Did you enjoy yourself?" 

"I did," Eijun said, shrugging out from under his arm and turning to Kazuya, who had strolled up more sedately. "Good job out there." 

"Thank you," Kazuya said. He turned to Eidan. "Thank you for coming, Mr. Sawamura. I hope you liked it." 

"I did, Kazuya. Good to see you again," Eidan said, turning to Kuramochi, who was trying to bend Eijun in half, for some reason. "And you must be Mochi, right?" 

Kuramochi had the sense to look abashed, standing up straight and releasing Eijun. "Yes, sir. I'm Youichi Kuramochi, glad to meet you." 

"Likewise," Eidan said, taking the offered hand. "I've heard a lot about you from Eijun." 

"Don't believe a word he says," Kuramochi said immediately. "Lies, I tell you." 

"You're a good percussionist," Animal said as he rejoined the group. He held out his hand as well. "Animal Takigawa. I know Eijun and Kazuya, but I don't believe we've met." 

"Hi, Mr. Takigawa, I'm Youichi Kuramochi." He took the proffered hand to shake. "It's good to meet you." 

"He's Chris's dad," Kazuya said. 

"Oh, yes," Kuramochi said. "I hope he's well." 

Animal nodded. "He is, thanks for asking. You're really good behind the drums, have you considered doing studio work?"

"I have," Kuramochi said. "That's something I've wanted to try." 

"If you'd like, I can get you an introduction and an audition," Animal said. "I've been around the block a few times, I understand the business, and I'm always on the lookout for new talent." 

"If you're willing, then yes," Kuramochi said. "But I'm only a junior. I won't graduate for a while." 

"That's okay, we can get you in the studio during the summer break if you need a job," Animal offered. "That is, if everything goes well. Then you can work whatever you'd like during the school year. What are your college plans?" 

"I don't know yet," Kuramochi admitted. "I don't think...I didn't plan to continue my musical studies, but I don't know what else I want to do." 

"If this works for you, you could make studio work your career," Animal told him. "I did. And I didn't go to LaGuardia, nor did I have a musical education. I just started playing the drums and learned how to read music. You're way ahead of where I was at your age." 

"I'll be happy to take your offer," Kuramochi said. "I'd like to see if that's something I could do." 

Animal handed him one of his cards. "Here's my info, give me a call tomorrow, we'll see what we can set up, okay?" 

"Will do. Thank you, Mr. Takigawa," Kuramochi said. 

"Not at all, I hope it works out." He turned to Kazuya. "You too," he said. "I'm sure you're headed for Julliard and the professional musician's track, but if you want some extra cash or studio experience, we can always use you." 

"Thanks," Kazuya said, taking one of his cards. "I'm not...I could use the experience, but I'm not sure I'll have time. But I'll try." 

"Good enough for me," Animal said. "Congrats on winning, you boys deserved it. Good call on the Isle of Wight thing, too. Was that you?" 

"No, that was Nabe, our bassist," Kazuya admitted. "I wanted Live Aid until he talked me out of it." 

"That was a smart decision," Animal said. "Anyway, I hope to hear from you boys soon. Eidan, don't be a stranger, okay?" 

"I won't," Eidan said, offering him a hand. "You too, come up and see us sometime. I know Chika would love to see you." 

"I will!" Animal agreed. "Eijun, see you Saturday, right?" 

"Right," Eijun answered. "Get home safely, okay?" 

"Will do," he said, nodding to the others. "Goodnight." 

Animal walked away, and the three boys looked at each other before turning their gaze on Eidan. 

He shrugged. "He is a little intense, but he's a good guy," Eidan said. "Now, is there somewhere near here that we all can get a burger or something? My treat."

"That would be nice," Kazuya said. 

Kuramochi nodded. "Thank you, yes, there is a diner a few blocks away." 

"Lead on," he said, and they headed out into the night. Kazuya fell into step beside Eijun as Eidan started to quiz Kuramochi, as parents do. 

"You alright?" he asked. "You haven't said much." 

"I'm good. I'm just kinda taking it all in, you know? I saw a lot of things I don't think I would have noticed before we started busking." 

"Really? Like what?" 

Eijun shook his head. "I want to think about them for a while before I'll be ready to talk about them. I do want to talk about something else, though. I thought you couldn't sing?" 

"No, no. That's not what I said. I said I wasn't able to sing while I played the violin," Kazuya explained. "Not that I couldn't sing at all." 

Eijun thought back to the conversation and realized that he had misinterpreted. "Oh! That's cool, then, you can start singing when you play the bass." 

Kazuya squinted at him, nonplused. "You're a much better singer than I am," he contended. "I'm not bad, but you're actually good, and would be even better with some training. In fact, I'd suggest you do so before things get too busy with the band, so you can figure out how to protect your voice as well as get better. That would be ideal."

"Not a bad idea," Eijun agreed. "I'll have to look into it." 

"You do that."