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The airport was packed, which did nothing to alleviate Sougo’s anxiety.
They were late. They were so incredibly late, Sougo knew there were at least a dozen of Banri-san’s slightly panicked messages waiting for him on his phone. The thing hadn’t stopped buzzing in his pocket since they had left the hotel (late; so, so late), and though Sougo hadn’t checked simply because he was too busy trying to navigate himself and a reluctant Tamaki through a foreign country… there was a part of Sougo that was too scared to even look.
He would apologize later, of course. But for now? For now, Sougo was going to forget what a phone even was.
“Sou-chaaaaan,” Tamaki moaned behind him, his long legs keeping up with Sougo’s quick strides effortlessly, even though he wasn’t even trying to run. “Are we there yet?”
“No, Tamaki-kun,” Sougo replied, keeping his voice checked. Getting into a fight with Tamaki at that moment would get them nowhere. “We need to get to gate 45.”
“But Sou-chan, we walked by that fancy coffee shop three times already.”
“Of course, we— what?”
Tamaki was right, of course. The green sign of the coffee shop blinked mockingly at Sougo, and the mild pain he had been feeling deep in his stomach since that morning flared up along with his anxiety. So not only they were going to miss their flight, but they were lost on an international airport with no knowledge of the Northmarean language and only a faint understanding of how English worked.
Sougo needed to sit down.
A tug on his jacket made him look up. Tamaki was right at his side, a worried frown on his face as he looked down at Sougo. The usual guilt Sougo felt when he managed to worry carefree Tamaki poked out its ugly head; it might have been Tamaki’s fault they were late, but that didn’t mean Sougo wanted to make him feel bad.
“Sorry, Tamaki-kun,” Sougo’s smile was weak, so he wasn’t surprised when all Tamaki did was reply with a pout. “I’m alright! I’m just—“ Could he say it? Could he show his weakness before someone who needed him to be the adult right now? “I’m…”
“It’s alright, Sou-chan. Look—“ Tamaki started, and pointed towards a big panel with yellow letters and numbers that meant nothing for Sougo. “Isn’t that the English word for “gate”? And next to it it says 36-50, so that’s probably where we have to go!”
Sougo blinked slowly at the panel, heart skipping a beat. “I… yes. I think you're right, Tamaki-kun,” Sougo could barely hide the surprise in his voice, but it didn’t matter; Tamaki looked far too happy at being right to notice. “How did you know? Did you study that word at school?”
“Nah… But we did the Wish Voyage MV at an airport, right!? I saw the word back then, and I asked Nagicchi!”
Something warm and heavy bloomed in Sougo’s chest as he watched Tamaki square his shoulders proudly. It spread through his whole body, easing the knot in his stomach and clearing his head a little.
They could do this. They just had to find the right gate.
“Come on, Tamaki-kun,” Sougo said as he straightened up, and only then did he realize Tamaki was still holding on to his sleeve. This time, Sougo’s smile was real. “Let’s get back to the others.”
“Ossu!!”
Their feeble link with each other didn’t last long. All around, people rushed to get to their own gates, or simply to the nearest food place they could find. Sougo grunted as a businessman hit him with his elbow, and then jumped when a carry-on went over his right foot. He loved Northmare, it was a beautiful place…
But the airport could be better, in Sougo’s honest opinion.
“Sou-chan, you’re gonna get lost,” Tamaki’s voice suddenly said, and a second later Sougo felt a warm hand curling around his wrist, tugging softly. “Here, it’s—“
It was through that hand that Sougo felt Tamaki tense. Sougo’s body acted on its own accord, going almost as rigid as Tamaki even though he didn’t have a reason why. He looked up, only to find Tamaki looking somewhere beyond the sea of people that surrounded them.
Then there was the soft thud of Tamaki’s bag falling to the floor, and Tamaki rushed away so fast that it took Sougo a whole five seconds to realize his hand wasn’t around Sougo’s anymore.
“T-Tamaki-kun!” Sougo exclaimed after him. Some people turned, surprised about the loud voice sounding over the noisy airport, but Tamaki was almost out of sight and refusing to turn around. Grabbing Tamaki’s bag off the ground, Sougo started to push through the crowd after Tamaki, mumbling up excuses as he called his partner. “That isn’t the way you pointed before! Tamaki-kun, where are you going!?”
He was going to lose him, Sougo was sure of it. Tamaki was fast, always, and his long legs were capable of carrying Tamaki through the crowd at the same time it took Sougo to even find that head of frizzy blue hair. Sougo was going to lose Tamaki and he would have to call Banri-san and explain why he hadn’t replied to his messages, and explain how he had lost Tamaki, and IDOLISH7 would be missing a member again, and then—
Something hard but warm rushed forward to meet Sougo’s face. Sougo grunted at the impact, taking a few steps back. He was already apologizing before he managed to open his eyes— but there was no need. It was Tamaki he had run into, and Sougo’s mortification was soon replaced by anger as he saw where Tamaki had decided to stop.
Tamaki had ditched him for a gift shop.
“Seriously? We don’t have time for this—!”
“…Aya.”
Tamaki’s reply was so unexpected that Sougo choked on his next words. “W-what?”
“Aya!”
It was only when Tamaki moved again that Sougo saw her. She was standing not that far away, her back to them until Tamaki called her once again. Next to her, the imposing figure of Kujou cast a shadow over Aya’s surprised features, making her seem smaller under the fluorescent lights.
Her hand was firmly holding Kujou’s, even as she turned around to face Tamaki. “…Nii-chan?”
Sougo was by Tamaki’s side in an instant, ready to intervene despite having his hands full with both his and Tamaki’s bags. But Tamaki seemed frozen, completely unaware of anything else as he stared at Aya’s hand in Kujou’s, her small hand in his bigger one.
It was a father’s hold. Aya could have yanked her hand back at any moment, and Kujou wouldn’t have stopped her, wouldn’t have been able to hold her with enough strength to make her stay.
Somehow, that only made things worse.
“Tamaki-kun,” Sougo whispered, letting the bags fall to his feet and stepping closer to Tamaki. No one had forgotten Tamaki’s rough screams as he ordered Aya to come with him, the anger and the plea mingled into a growl. They really didn’t need that right now, not when the name of IDOLiSH7 was starting to sound through the international media.
And yet, Sougo’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest as he heard Tamaki hold back a strangled sob, wanting nothing more than to pull Tamaki away from any pain he could be feeling in that moment.
Like Tamaki had done before, Sougo sneaked his fingers around Tamaki’s wrist, holding him still. “Hey. Come on, let’s get back to—“
Tamaki shook Sougo off with a quick movement of his arm. It stung, but worry covered the feeling well; Tamaki was walking towards Aya and Kujou, a set expression making the kind blue of his eyes turn to steel.
Sougo reached for his phone, Banri’s name at the tip of his tongue.
And then Tamaki bowed.
“I’m sorry!” Tamaki exclaimed, pained and soft at the same time. “I’m really, really sorry, Aya!”
By now, Osaka Sougo could be considered an expert in Yotsuba Tamaki’s apologies. He had been apologized to by his partner a fair amount of times, but it was only when things had gone back to normal that Sougo had allowed himself to really think about Tamaki’s apologies. And he had learned a few things during the process:
One: Apologies were never the first word to come out of Tamaki’s mouth.
Two: Once Tamaki realized he had been in the wrong, he had no problem apologizing honestly.
Three: There was an underlying feeling beneath all of his apologies, a call for forgiveness but also for reassurance. Tamaki needed to be reassured that he hadn’t messed up so bad that the other person would abandon him forever, that he was still worth a second chance.
Tamaki had begged second chances off Sougo before. But he had never heard Tamaki sound as heart-broken as he did now, in front of Aya.
“Nii-chan…” Aya whispered again as Tamaki continued to bow, and Sougo could do nothing but press his own knuckles against his mouth so as not to make a sound.
“I’m sorry I shouted at you!” Tamaki continued, eyes glued to the floor. “I’m sorry I said those awful things! I’m sorry… I’m sorry I reminded you of dad—“
Another strangled sound put an end to Tamaki’s apology. But he didn't rise from his bow, not even when Aya called his name again—nothing more than a soft sound lost to the hustle and bustle of the airport. Sougo thought about stepping forward, bringing Tamaki back to him, but he was frozen in place as well. He knew —at least a part of him did— that he was nothing but a spectator in this scenario. Tamaki might have been his partner, but this was something that had nothing to do with MEZZO” nor IDOLiSH7.
If Tamaki was ripping his heart open right now, that was only for him and his sister to deal with.
“I—-I don’t want us to fight again,” Tamaki admitted as he stood up, fists tightly closed at his sides. Sougo had almost expected him to be crying at that point, considering the heart-wrenching sounds he had made before, but his cheeks were dry. Even if his eyes were not. “So I’m going to trust you, Aya! You said you’re happy, right? That you want to stay with that bast— with Kujou.”
“I… yes,” Aya replied, voice soft but sure nonetheless. “I’m going to stay with Kujou-san, Nii-chan.”
Tamaki nodded; he probably had expected that answer already. “I won’t ask you to come with me again then,” Tamaki said, and Sougo’s heart skipped a beat at the lack of heat behind those words. Tamaki simply sounded… defeated. “And— I won’t force you to stay either. If you don’t want to be with me, then— I won’t force you and make you unhappy.”
“—Nii-chan…”
“But,” Tamaki continued, and for a moment his eyes retrieved some of their usual fire as Tamaki looked from his sister to Kujou, knuckles white at his sides. “If he ever does anything to you, or if you just get fed up…” he looked at Aya then, and his expression turned so open and kind that Sougo’s heart suffered once again. “…If you ever want to be with me again, Aya, Nii-chan will be here waiting for you. Always.”
Sougo looked away, unable to stand the sight of Tamaki looking so broken and not being able to do anything. It ate at him, at the side of him that never wanted people dear to him to suffer even for a second. But the atmosphere between the siblings was tense; not even the crowd dared to step between the two, parting to avoid them instead.
So it was easy for Aya to move away from Kujou’s side and cross the distance, to hide her face in her brother’s chest and wrap her arms as tightly around him as she could.
“Thank you, Nii-chan—“ Sougo heard Aya whisper, voice muffled by Tamaki’s thick jacket. “Thank you…”
It took Tamaki a second to react, but he curled around his sister a moment later, his arms holding her close with all the desperation he had felt in all the years of separation. His shoulders shook as he lowered his head, and Sougo saw Aya turn to press a soft kiss on his brother’s cheek, before turning back into the hug as if she didn’t want it to end. Truthfully it didn’t last long, but the moment seemed to stretch as Tamaki pet Aya’s head, as Aya clung to his jacket with her lithe fingers.
In the end, it was Kujou who put an end to it. His voice was as soft as always, but it carried a firm undertone that always managed to make Sougo’s hair stand on air. Tamaki too tensed at the sound of it, his blue eyes snapping up to glare at Kujou’s form.
“Let us go, Aya,” Kujou said. His expression hadn’t changed one bit through Tamaki’s speech, not even when Aya moved her hand away from his. And it didn’t change beneath the heat of Tamaki’s glare. “It is time.”
Slowly, Aya pushed herself away from her brother. Tamaki was reluctant at first, his hands barely letting Aya move before he was hugging her again to his chest. But when Aya insisted Tamaki let her go, his arms falling lifelessly at his sides. He stood there, forlorn, as his sister inhaled sharply and smiled up at him with teary but happy eyes.
“I have to go,” Aya said, sounding like an apology of her own. Maybe it was.
Tamaki nodded, and Sougo felt a new wave of pride as he saw Tamaki muster all the strength he had left to smile at his little sister one last time. “Have a safe trip, Aya.”
“Mm! You too Nii-chan. Bye…”
“—Bye-bye…”
He waved as Aya returned to Kujou’s side, his small smile slipping away only when Aya’s hand returned to Kujou’s. Aya had no free hand to wave with, now that she had her own carry-on to take care of, but she still turned her head over her shoulder to dedicate her brother one last smile before they both started walking away.
The crowd quickly swallowed them whole, as if they had never been before Tamaki in the first place.
Sougo took one step towards Tamaki, hand stretched forward as if to touch him but not really daring to. He didn’t even know what to say. “Tamaki-kun…”
Tamaki moved so fast, Sougo couldn’t help but startle. He turned, his back to where Aya and Kujou had left, to face Sougo with the most anguished expression Sougo had ever seen.
Such expression shouldn’t be allowed in someone like Tamaki. Kind, carefree, rough around the edges Tamaki deserved more, deserved better.
Cheeky grins and companionable smiles where what suited Tamaki best.
“Is she gone?” Tamaki asked in a low voice, trembling softly.
Sougo’s heart broke for what felt like the tenth time as he took in the sight of Tamaki’s first tears. “Oh, Tamaki-kun—“
“Is she gone, Sou-chan?”
It only took a flicker of Sougo’s eyes to make sure. There was no trace of Kujou’s slicked black hair, nor of Aya’s pristine white coat. “Yes.”
The first sob was a ragged little thing, barely making it out of Tamaki’s mouth before a second one followed right after. But it was the second one that managed to break Tamaki’s restrain and Sougo’s heart, the former falling forward just as the latter moved up to catch him. Seamlessly, Tamaki rested his forehead on Sougo’s shoulder just as Sougo’s arms came up around him, pressing him tightly against his chest in a more desperate echo of the last time Tamaki had broken down. With his father, Tamaki had cried out of anger and despair.
With his sister, Sougo knew, Tamaki cried out of loneliness.
“Shh, it’s okay, Tamaki-kun,” Sougo whispered, closing his eyes. He could feel Tamaki’s tears against his bare neck, just as his own tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. “You did the right thing.”
“How—!” Tamaki replied through the knot in his throat, hands grabbing fistfuls of Sougo’s jacket as he pressed himself closer. “How is this the right thing when it hurts so much— I don’t get it!”
Sougo tilted his head, eyes set firmly on the bright lights hanging from the ceiling. The burn in his retinas helped him keep his emotions in check. “Sometimes that’s how you know it’s the right thing,” Sougo said, and memories of his own accompanied his voice: an almost empty suitcase, a set of keys being left inside before closing the door one last time. The firmness of a new, cheap futon. “You know because it hurts.”
Tamaki shook his head, his hair brushing against Sougo’s chin and cheek. “I don’t get it at all…”
His hair was getting too long, Sougo noted. They were strange, the things one could notice when trying to forget about one’s own feelings. Like this, Tamaki’s hair fell to cover the sides of his hair, brushing past his shoulders to tickle the exposed skin of Sougo’s neck. Sougo lifted a hand, chest heavy as he played with the tips of that soft blue hair, and then allowed his fingers to go deeper until he was scratching softly at Tamaki’s scalp. “You don’t have to get it. Just know you’re doing the right thing.”
Tamaki’s grip on Sougo’s jacket was so tight, Sougo could feel his knuckles pressing between his shoulder-blades. He didn’t mind, but it allowed him to feel Tamaki’s hands shaking as he curled himself even closer around Sougo—and then relax, little by little, as if the muscles of his hands had forgotten how to let go. “…I just don’t want to be like my dad,” Tamaki explained, still speaking from his hiding place against Sougo. “I never want to be like him.”
“You’re not,” Sougo replied, and his tone was so assertive that it surprised both of them. “You’re not like your father, Tamaki-kun.”
“But Aya said—“
“Aya was sad and upset,” Sougo knew that to be the truth deep down; no one who knew Tamaki could ever compare him to someone like his father. “And so were you, Tamaki-kun. It’s easy to say things you don’t mean when you’re upset.”
The hands on Sougo’s jacket tightened as another sob shook Tamaki’s shoulders, but he soon let go once again. Tamaki’s palms were warm against Sougo’s back, even through the layers.
“…I also don’t want to be like Sou-chan’s dad.”
“—Huh?”
Sougo stepped back, confusion making his hands fall from Tamaki’s hair to his shoulders and pushed back slightly. Tamaki let go reluctantly; his hair still fell messily over his features, but it was still easy to see the red rim of his eyes.
“What do you mean?”
Tamaki rubbed at his eyes and cheeks with the sleeve of his jacket. The tears were gone in an instant, but an angry red bloomed on his skin from the rough contact. “Your dad forced you to do things you didn’t want to do, right? Like forgetting about music. He made you so unhappy that you ended up hating yourself. I don’t want Aya—“
It was easy to see how that sentence would have ended, if Tamaki hadn’t closed his mouth with a clack of his teeth. I don’t want Aya to end up like you.
Sougo understood that feeling; he didn’t want to be himself, most of the time.
“That won’t happen to her. You know why?” Tamaki shook his head and Sougo smiled. The first real smile in what felt like hours. “Because she has something I never did.”
There were tears gathered at Tamaki’s eyelashes, and one of them rolled down his cheek when Tamaki blinked at Sougo, surprised enough for even his sobs to give him a moment of reprieve. “And what’s that?”
Slowly but surely, Sougo lifted a hand to brush away that runaway tear with the pad of his thumb. Then he left his hand there, palm flush against Tamaki’s cheek, letting his thumb soothe the irritated skin right beneath Tamaki’s eye. “You, Tamaki-kun,” Sougo replied with a gentle smile. “She has a gentle older brother that clearly will never hurt her. Today is proof enough of that.”
Tamaki leaned his cheek against Sougo’s hand. A moment later, he lifted his own hand and covered Sougo's with his, as if to make sure Sougo wouldn’t pull away. Just like before, Tamaki’s palm was warm, and that warmth spread through Sougo like the first mouthful of his favorite liquor as it went down his throat.
“I’m proud of you, Tamaki-kun.”
Tamaki inhaled sharply. He licked his lips as he let that same breath out shakily, his hand tightening its hold on Sougo’s almost absent-mindedly. “Sou-chan,” Tamaki started, and his eyes snapped up from looking at his own feet to pin Sougo down with that penetrating blue. “I—“
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is the final boarding call for passengers of Japan Airlines…”
“—AH!”
Tamaki jumped, his hand falling as he took in Sougo’s quick movements to retrieve their bags. “W-what is it, Sou-chan! You scared me!”
“That’s our flight!” Sougo exclaimed as he turned around, praying to every god listening that Tamaki would follow—and that the blush on his cheeks was faint enough to blame it on his rushed walking. “I completely forgot— we have to get to our gate!”
Tamaki not only was following close behind but his hand sneaked around Sougo’s, skin brushing against skin until he was gripping the handle of his own bag and Sougo let go. With a swift movement, Tamaki caught up to Sougo, slid his bag over his shoulder, and dedicated Sougo the most luminous smile Sougo had seen. “Then let’s hurry, Sou-chan!”
Fingers laced themselves through Sougo’s, and suddenly Sougo was being pulled through a Northmarean airport at a speed that was not his own, feet barely touching the ground at that point as Tamaki ran for both of them. From the corner of his eye, he could still see the remains of Tamaki’s break down in the red of his eyes, in the mess of his hair through where Sougo had run his fingers. But his shoulders were relaxed now, almost back to his usual slouch, and the smile that curled the corners of his mouth upwards into almost a full grin sent a happy spark of electricity right through Sougo’s palm and into his heart.
A lot had happened for Tamaki to become the man he was that day. And a lot more would arrive in the future, Sougo knew, making not only Tamaki but Sougo and the rest of IDOLiSH7, change. It was part of life, part of growing up.
And it was scary. So scary to think about. But right there, running through the airport with Tamaki’s hand in his, Sougo thought that maybe he could face it.
Maybe he would be as brave as Tamaki and face the pain head-on.
“You can’t say that anymore, by the way,” Tamaki suddenly said, voice even despite his running.
Sougo envied him a little for that, more so when his voice broke with his need for air when he tried to speak. “W-what?”
“That Aya has something you don’t! I’m right here, aren’t I?” Tamaki faced forward then, the smile never once slipping away from his mouth even as he spoke. “I won’t let Sou-chan be hurt anymore. So don’t be scared, okay?”
The warm feeling from before bloomed into a gentle fire, burning away the vines that came from time to time to seize Sougo’s heart.
Yes , he thought, squeezing Tamaki’s hand tightly in his. I can definitely face the future like this.
“Okay, Tamaki-kun. I won’t forget that.”
Later, after apologizing profusely to the flight crew and Banri, Sougo and Tamaki let themselves fall into their seats with a tired groan, sweat pooling at the back of their necks and hearts hammering against their protesting lungs.
And still, their hands remained linked between their seats, through turbulence and naps and dinner time.
And all the way back home.