Work Text:
"Uenoyama-sensei, you're in a band, aren't you?"
Ritsuka looked up from the lesson reflection sheet he was reading. "Yeah, why?"
Shimizu, the owl-eyed, balding history teacher at the desk across from Ritsuka's, sat up a little straighter. "I came across your videos last night. Your songs are very good! Especially You're Forever."
"Thanks," Ritsuka said. He never knew what to do with himself when people mentioned his music in the real world. When the students knew him, that was cool -- something to get them to care. But his peers? That was weird. And You're Forever was the song Mafuyu had written, probably about Ritsuka, so that was a second level of weird.
Shimizu seemed to sense his discomfort, raised his fingers in an apologetic I'll-leave-you-alone gesture and went back to his grading. Ritsuka stamped the bottom of the reflection sheet and placed it on top of the finished pile. He carried the paperwork to the second years' homeroom teacher's desk and excused himself for the day.
The staff room had smelled like coffee in the morning, but the air had turned to stale farts in the afternoon, like always. Stepping out of that into crisp winter air felt like getting a new lease on the day, even if the tips of his ears and nose stung as he hurried towards the train station.
Rush hour hadn't started yet, so Ritsuka lucked into a seat on the train. He pored over the notes he'd made for a new song all the way to his stop, where he went by a MisDo for a surprise-me box of doughnuts and hurried to the studio.
Mafuyu and Akihiko were in the lounge already, watching the latest Yoshiki extravaganza on Mafuyu's tablet propped up against the back of the sofa. They both nodded as he entered and promptly went back to their video. Ritsuka had already watched it on the train to school that morning, and he didn't care to see it again.
He put the doughnuts on the tea table by the sofa, sat down next to Mafuyu, opened up the box and helped himself to two hundred calories covered in peppermint sprinkles. Twelve years ago, they were renting time and space from anyone who'd have them. Now, they had their own studio where they could keep their instruments, and Akihiko was working on finding them an actual warehouse to practice for live shows.
In a world where people just didn't want to pay for music any more, Given wasn't doing half badly -- between concert and festival income, merch sales, and promo royalties, none of them needed to work to support a modest lifestyle, but they all chose to anyway. Ritsuka was a substitute junior high music teacher, Mafuyu worked in a bookshop, Akihiko still kept up a constant rotation of short-term shift-work, and Haruki had a proper office job, with his own desk and everything, though also part-time. They wanted to keep making music even if it stopped paying the bills one day.
He finished his doughnut, washed his hands, and headed into the equipment room just as the video finished. "I thought Haruki'd be here first," Ritsuka said over his shoulder.
"Haruki's not coming today," Akihiko said. "Contract negotiations ran late, then they have a company end-of-year party."
"So he's getting drunk instead of practicing," Ritsuka said, pulling his guitar case out of its cabinet.
"We're going home early too," Mafuyu put in. "So don't get on Haruki's case."
"I'm not getting on anyone's case," Ritsuka protested. "I'm just saying facts. Anyway, I brought doughnuts."
"I like it when you say facts," Mafuyu said, putting away his tablet. "And when you bring doughnuts."
"Get a room," Akihiko said with an eyeroll. He shoved a doughnut in his mouth, got up from the sofa, and headed into the control room.
They were trying out the violin again today, following Haruki's insistence that if UVERworld can have a sax, Given can have a violin, damn it. But having Akihiko on violin meant no drummer, so they had to play over a drum track they'd recorded earlier. Akihiko set it up and joined the two of them in the live room, violin case in hand. "Here goes nothing."
»»»
"That was good," Ritsuka said. "Even without Haruki."
"It'll be better with Haruki," Mafuyu replied, shrugging into his coat.
Ritsuka wound the pink-checkered scarf around Mafuyu's neck, under the ponytail. "Always is."
"Do you think it's cold enough for a scarf?" Mafuyu asked, peering up at him.
Ritsuka leaned in and pressed a kiss to the side of Mafuyu's mouth. "I can't answer that for you."
"There's something you can answer for me," Mafuyu murmured, lips parting, eyelids lowering. Ritsuka's heartbeat quickened.
"Get. A. Room," Akihiko said, with feeling, and grabbed the half-finished doughnut box from the table.
"Technically--," Mafuyu began, but Akihiko waved him off.
"Yeah, yeah, this is a room. It's the wrong room. See you guys tomorrow."
"Tell Haruki I hope he likes the doughnuts," Ritsuka said, helping Mafuyu zip up his coat. The door opened to the din of early evening traffic, then clicked shut.
"He's gone now," Mafuyu said, a bit plaintively. "And we're in a room."
"I know," Ritsuka said. "He's right, though."
Mafuyu picked up his messenger bag from the floor. "Wrong room?"
"Wrong room."
They had a long train journey home, and the afternoon rush was well underway, so the train was crowded. The two of them stood in the gangway, and Ritsuka leaned back to the wall to keep himself steady while Mafuyu held onto his arm.
"What are we going to do about drums if we play the new song live?" Mafuyu asked in a half-whisper.
"We could ask Shizu to lend a hand," Ritsuka suggested.
Mafuyu tilted his head. "I doubt it. They're busy planning the Europe tour. Besides, you know how Hiiragi gets about him playing with other bands."
"Europe, huh," Ritsuka said, not wanting to talk about Hiiragi. "Think we'll ever go on a tour like that?"
"Not with Haruki's job we won't."
"Or mine."
"They don't always need you, so you could just do it during a free semester or something.."
"Yeah, but I can't plan a free semester in advance. I'll need to take a leave of absence." Since receiving his teaching licence five years ago, Ritsuka had had only one semester off. A few times, he'd ended up working at multiple schools where the music teachers were temporarily absent for one reason or another. It sucked not knowing where -- if at all -- he'd be working next semester, but if he went for a permanent position, he'd have to deal with thirteen-plus-hour days and a lot more bureaucratic nonsense. "If you want to go on tour, we'll have a meeting and plan it properly, no blue-skying."
"If we go to Europe, where do you want to go first?" Mafuyu asked, teetering a bit as the train pulled into a station, the conductor warbling a legato announcement spiel.
"Norway," Ritsuka said. "I want to see where Kaizers Orchestra came from."
Mafuyu pursed his lips. "You're going on tour in Europe and the first thing you want to do is be a fan of some other band?"
"Don't tell Haruki," Ritsuka said, grinning. "Also, we're not going on tour yet. Where do you want to go first?"
"I want to eat snails," Mafuyu said. "To get snail energy." Lately, he'd been obsessed with an internet theory that eating various things absorbs different kinds of energy, which affect mood and behaviour in various ways.
"Snails don't look like they have a lot of energy," Ritsuka observed.
"That's because they're carrying their houses around all the time. They're working very hard."
More people had gotten on the train, and Mafuyu was getting jostled from behind. Before the train squeaked away from the platform, Ritsuka switched places with Mafuyu, letting him lean against the wall. He braced against the same wall with his elbows on either side of Mafuyu's head.
"Wrong room," Mafuyu said under his breath, and they both stifled laughter.
»»»
It was dark by the time they reached their tiny house in western suburbia. Kedama sat at the bottom of the stairs, tail thumping, his leash on the floor in front of him.
"I'll walk him," Ritsuka said. "You get dinner started." He grabbed a couple of small plastic bags from the box by the door and let Kedama pull him out into the street.
Christmas lights twinkled and flashed here and there in the neighbourhood, and Ritsuka decided he'd rig some in the anteroom window this weekend, too. Maybe he and Mafuyu could finally decorate the fake tree they'd bought two years ago, right after moving in, and never even unpacked. They wouldn't even be home at Christmas -- it was a busy time of year with lots of live performances on the band's schedule -- but it'd feel nice. Festive. Haruki had said the other day that Christmas in Japan was more style than substance, but Ritsuka saw nothing wrong with that.
"What do you think, Kedama?" he asked. "Is it fine if it's just meaningless window dressing?"
The dog turned around at the sound of his name without breaking stride and gave Ritsuka a look that could have been whatever you say, boss, I'm just here to poop or foolish human, I only entertain your inanity because I'm nice. Mafuyu was a lot better at reading Kedama's face.
When they got back home, the heating had kicked all the way in already. Kedama trotted towards his water bowl and filled the kitchen with happy splashing noises. Ritsuka paused to listen, thinking about how to simulate them in a chord progression. Then he looked up and saw Mafuyu waiting at the top of the stairs, bare-legged, the top buttons of his work shirt undone. Ritsuka was up the stairs and next to Mafuyu faster than Kedama running to hide from bathtime.
"What happened to dinner?" he asked, brushing Mafuyu's bangs away from his eyes.
"Right room," Mafuyu breathed, leaning up into his touch. "Now."
Ritsuka kissed him, deep, one hand pulling Mafuyu's hair tie off, the other supporting Mafuyu's back as they crossed the threshold into their bedroom. Mafuyu's hands cradled his face in both hands, leaning into him fully as soon as they reached the bed. "I've been thinking about last night all day," he said.
"I can tell." Ritsuka started undoing the remaining buttons on Mafuyu's shirt. He thought of Mafuyu's arched neck against Ritsuka's mouth, his moans rumbling through Ritsuka's lips like a concert bass line. "Encore?"
"Sort of." Mafuyu helped him pull his T-shirt off and ran his hands down Ritsuka's bare upper arms, stopping at the elbows. "I want you to ride me." His grip tightened, and Ritsuka forgot all about last night.
»»»
"Tell me something."
Mafuyu's eyes met his, and warmth filled Ritsuka, just like always. "Anything."
"Is You're Forever about me?"
"Of course it is" Mafuyu breathed. "Who else?"
They took their time pulling apart to their own sides of the bed; time enough for two trains to pass through the nearby station. Ritsuka felt like he'd be good to go again, if Mafuyu wanted it. After dinner, and maybe a Mario Kart session.
"Let's order a Christmas cake," Mafuyu said, holding a finger-viewfinder up to the ceiling, his hair a fluffy halo on the pillow. "From a proper cake shop, not one of those convenience store cakes. I want cake energy."
Ritsuka rolled closer to him, tugging the duvet cover up over them both, and peered into his face. "How about a wedding cake?"
Mafuyu returned his gaze. "Who's getting married?"
"We are."
Mafuyu's eyes widened. "We--?"
Ritsuka smiled. "Aren't we?"
Mafuyu exhaled into a small silence just like the one right before he'd first sang A Winter Story all those years ago: brimful of words that needed desperately to be spoken, so heavy that when Mafuyu's voice rang out, all the hearts stopped beating, just a little, in relief.
"Yes."
[end]
