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Sawamura Circus.
It has a nice ring to it.
Daichi lets a soft smile grow on his face. The building is flooded with music and laughter and bold, bright red, and his new family has come alive in the dim lights.
This is what he’s been working for. His whole life, his every effort, it’s all been to bring him to this moment.
He can finally provide a safe place for Suga, just as he’d promised years ago. He can give Suga’s kids, brimming with innocence and optimism, the childhood neither him nor Suga were fortunate enough to get.
He can give his new family the respect they deserve. He can protect them from the cruelty of the world, and give them somewhere safe. He can allow them to find themselves and be themselves without fear of rejection or discrimination.
Inside these walls, he’s created the closest thing to paradise possible, and for the first time in his life, he feels like he belongs.
Moonlight streams bright through the tiny window, and he glances at the paper again, unable to stop himself from grinning at the latest negative review.
Society hates what Daichi’s built, which is what makes him so certain that he’s on the right track.
He lets his eyes fall from the paper, looking briefly towards the makeshift bed crammed into the corner.
He can’t sleep.
It’s nothing unusual. His thoughts are constantly racing, his mind brimming, thousands of ideas and millions of dreams that keep him awake until they’re fulfilled.
It’s uncharacteristically quiet as he leaves his office and picks his way through the backstage mess, fingers brushing lightly against the curtain. Almost everyone has gone, off to their houses and homes, and those remaining are sleeping peacefully in the safety of the circus.
He doesn’t realize until he steps into the ring that he’s not as alone as he’d thought.
Daishou’s sitting in the middle of the ring, unusually apathetic towards the expensive fabric he’s pressing against the sand. Terushima’s perched precariously on their trapeze, kicking their legs idly as they murmur softly to Daishou.
“What are you two doing?” Daichi asks softly, announcing his presence to avoid startling them. “Terushima, you should be asleep. Daishou, I thought you went home hours ago.”
“Could ask you the same question, Sawacchi,” Terushima chuckles, but their voice is shaky.
Daichi knows his family better than he knows himself, and he knows when something is wrong. Upon a closer look, he realizes that Terushima’s eyes are swollen red, and Daishou’s looking at the ground with hands clenched into fists.
“Is everything alright?” he asks cautiously.
“Sure, Daichi,” Daishou huffs. “Everything’s perfect at your damn circus.”
“Sugucchi,” Terushima sighs, “don’t take it out on Sawacchi. It’s not his fault.”
“No, it’s alright, Terushima,” Daichi says firmly, lowering himself to the ground and sitting slightly back from the two. “If something’s wrong, I want to know. What’s going on?”
“It’s nothing, really,” Terushima shrugs, a weak attempt to brush Daichi off. “It’s not important. I don’t wanna keep you up or anything.”
“I was already up,” Daichi counters, “and I’ll be up for awhile. If it’s keeping you up, it’s clearly important.”
“Exactly, Yuuji. That’s what I’ve been saying,” Daishou agrees. “I told you, Daichi’s always up late. You’re not bugging him, just like you’re not fucking bugging me.”
“You never bother me, Terushima,” Daichi insists softly. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Terushima bites their lip. “It’s stupid.”
“Stop saying that, Yuuji,” Daishou snaps sharply. “Your problems, your worries, they’re never stupid, got it? Daichi, I already told you. The problem is that everything always perfect at your damn circus.”
Daichi blinks. “I don’t—“
“And nothing’s perfect out there,” Daishou continues, cutting him off. “It’s all safe and welcoming and perfect in here, but the second you set foot outside, everything goes to shit.”
Everything clicks, and Daichi sighs.
“You two went out after the show. It didn’t go so well, I’m guessing.” Daichi takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Terushima.”
“I’m used to it,” Terushima mumbles. “I’m used to the stares, it doesn’t usually bother me anymore.”
“You’re allowed to be upset,” Daishou insists firmly. “It bothered me. It really fucking bothered me, so it’s allowed to bother you.”
“You keep saying that.” Terushima refuses to look at either of them, staring at the ground. “It’s just... I can’t be myself out there. In here, it’s easy. In here, I’m valid, and I can love you both, and everything’s safe. But the second I go outside...”
“The second you go outside, the world can see you. Society can judge you. You start to worry that we’ll leave you, and you start to believe that we’d be right to,” Daichi murmurs.
Terushima blinks. “Sawacchi, how did you—“
“I feel the same way, Terushima,” Daichi interrupts gently. “They judge me too. They stare and gossip and judge, and it wears me down. They tell me it’s a waste of time, and sometimes I start to believe that it’s hopeless after all.”
“Yeah,” Daishou agrees, a hint of exhausted acceptance playing across his face. “It’s just the way shit is out there. They think they’re better than us, and they think they can dictate who we get to be. Which is bullshit, by the way, Yuuji. You’re the only one who gets to decide who to be.”
“I...” Terushima swallows hard. “Thank you. Sawacchi, Sugucchi, thank you. I just— it’s so damn hard. It gets to me, you know? Sometimes, I just start feeling like it’s hopeless. Like we’re destined to be outcasts. Like— like we’re destined to fall apart.”
“Destiny or not, that’s not gonna happen, Yuuji,” Daishou swears firmly. “If we’re destined to be outcasts, we’ll reject it. We’ll decide our own destiny, and show the world what they’re missing.”
“I love you,” Daichi says with a small smile. “I love both of you. And if the stars are aligned against us, then we’ll do whatever it takes. I’m not leaving either of you, not ever. All I want is to be with you both, and I won’t let anyone tell me that it’s impossible.”
Terushima smiles, finally looking up. “You’re really stubborn, Sawacchi. If you’ve decided to rewrite the stars, then that’s what’s gonna happen. We’ll rewrite the stars.”