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“So how about we hop the train to our place now?~”
At some point both of them took a liking to small trips like that - they were perfect for relieving stress on long days such as this one. Rehearsal after rehearsal, jam session after jam session, with backs, legs, and throats getting worn out, some jokes growing old, and some only ripening, maturing... those were, naturally, mostly *his* escapades.
Nurude was witty enough to afford to be lazy while also doing his best. On stage he jived it up like he was born a comedian - something Rosho could never have despite putting in thrice as much effort. Sasara was confident that talent (or it’s lack) was not the case and would always try to cheer him up. He did all he could to help his dear friend persevere… But despite his best intentions, Rosho’s rebellious spirit simply wouldn’t stop urging him to fight back. It did not resonate well with their mentors’ points of view. His own double-edged arrogance made Rosho’s path just that much harder... and today was the day he felt especially in the mood for battle.
Despite the fact that in the whole world there was absolutely, positively nothing that could beat the sweet comfort of a pudding and a cream soda in your best friend’s company, there was one delicate piece of work they couldn’t ditch any longer.
They were young and reckless, and at the moment those were their stronger sides.
“Have you forgotten about our assignment again?”
Judging just from the looks one could bet that Rosho is some kind of a delinquent - his all-black clothing, slicked back hair and viciously cold glare spooked the hell out of every student in the academy. But only his group mates and teachers had a real grasp on how hot-headed he actually was, outside of rumors… and at times Sasara felt like he was dangerously close to tasting that fiery temper by drying the well of his patience.
“...Aaaha… assignment, huh... Assignment… I’m drawing a blank. Remind me, pretty please?~” - Sasara jollied, letting out an uncertain little chuckle.
“«Expand on the list of genres you can perform in as a duo». Hmph.”
“Aah, that!.. Hmhmhm…”
“Phew…”
There undoubtedly was something divine that kept Rosho from punching Sasara every other time. And something that kept Sasara doing all these stupid little things. Perhaps, it was exactly what neither of them initially expected from each other - companionship. At times Sasara realized that he was acting like a clown just to test the bounds of Rosho’s patience only halfway through with yet another jest…
...And he just did it again, subconsciously, by getting lost in his thoughts and missing half of what his partner said.
“...they complimented my looks for some reason but then said that i was unnaturally stiff, and after that we tried singing and theatricals, and learned that I am evidently not cut out for either, so…”
“Oi, that’s degrading!-”
“...maybe we could try rapping?..”
A mute pause hung in the air. Rosho blinked a couple of times, tilting his head. Sasara stared at him blankly for a second, just as lost, and then suddenly beamed wide, straightening his back out.
“..! Oh, right! Rapping! Took that right outta my mouth!”
“Oh, really now?”
That didn’t sound convinced at all but Rosho’s expression was much softer than what Sasara expected to see, delivering such a bad pun.
“Mmmhm!” - he smirked, nodding enthusiastically.
“Would you be so kind as to show me how it’s done then?” - a cruel, feigned smile just spread itself across Rosho’s face, removing any softness present but that of his eyes. Boy, was he good at playing scary when he wasn’t actually “acting”. It took Sasara a moment to retort:
“Didn’t you suggest it first?-”
“Sasara, you could just say you don’t know how to do that.” - parried Rosho, discarding the farce immediately.
“Do you know?” - Sasara yelped, starting to get annoyed himself.
“No, but I don’t pretend to, at least!”
They weren’t doing it right and they knew it, and what’s worse, they were being loud in a public space. An exchange of heated glares, tension almost palpable, followed by awkward silence.
Rosho tried to keep his anger issues in check around Sasara, but this time his fist did land on the table. With a loud head-turning “bam!”, no less. Sasara, usually fine with being both the funny man and the straight man, for once didn’t know how to come back at Rosho. He didn’t want to - he couldn’t stand conflict, not with somebody he cherished so much. His “express-clowning” habit failed him too - he couldn’t come up with a witty enough joke for this situation, and there was nothing that would help him ridicule himself in front of Rosho to get him to soften up. In the end, neither of them could keep the eye contact, choosing to drill holes through the floor beneath their feet instead.
“Of course he doesn’t worry… He could improvise it all through and through and the teachers would still adore him. But he works hard, so it’s not like he doesn’t deserve it… He’s a natural on the stage. Shining so bright… Just like all those good old-time comedians on TV. How I wish I could be as certain of my own future as I am of his… It’s… selfish of me to think this way, isn’t it? Perhaps… it won’t hurt to apologize to him here and now...”
“…Deadline is close. If we don’t do something, we’ll both fail. It’s not just about me or him. They gave *us* a chance, so we can’t just drop out without trying. I probably teased him too much this time, right? Does that qualify as being mean? I don't consciously choose to be irresponsible and stuff… I gotta step up my game! There’s no way in hell I’d be losing him now… I’ll be twice as funny and twice as cool if that’s what it takes to keep us afloat! But damn, this sure is a tough one… Think, Sasara!..”
Both felt mildly abashed. It wasn’t the first time they quarreled like this lately. The end of the semester was stressful. Subconsciously, they were both looking for that conflict, seeking resolution that would hopefully come out of it. Sasara could never hold the silence for long though, and once again took it upon himself to break it:
“Fine, fine... So… Umm.. I’m thinking it’s somewhere between poetry and jokes…”
“That would only give you flow though, and maybe a punch or two…” - Rosho followed up almost instantly.
He could never genuinely hold a grudge against Sasara. He would remember every misstep, yes, and be able to retell them all in great detail, but to hate him for those?.. Sasara was and still is his best and only friend. It wouldn’t be a lie to say that he’d forgive him just about anything at this point.
“Phhh… Why are you only this funny offstage, eeeh? Rosho! That’s unfair!” - Sasara cackled joyfully.
Tsutsujimori barely suppressed a chortle, as always, taken aback by kind words.
“…That was funny now?.. Either way, don’t get sidetracked. Think with me… what does rap need even…”
“…Hmmm… Rhymes? Chimes, no crimes…”
“Rhymes… rhymes… Ah. Rhythm!”
“Ah, so like, a beat?”
“Mhm.” - Rosho gave an affirmative nod, crossing his arms on his chest.
“So… rhythm, flow, and what?..” .
“Naturally, lyrics. Meaning. Rap without meaning would be… Truthfully, as bad as my jokes without you to interpret them…”
Sasara felt odd tension in his cheeks. He was used to and didn’t notice the tugs from forced smiles he always wears, but this one… felt genuine. Put on his face by an oblivious, drunk kind of happiness. He was by no means starved for compliments, no. It was just that… It felt entirely different to have his worth acknowledged by somebody he actually knew and cared for. As much as he wished to bask in it forever, he couldn’t leave his friend without an answer.
“Khm, thank you, of course, but stop with this right now! I tell you time and time again, they are not bad! The world is just not ready for them yet, is all!”
Now Rosho could feel his ears burst up in flames. He admired everything there was to Sasara’s genius, and being complimented by him? Given hope? That felt strange and incredible, unlike anything he ever felt before. He looked away with utter modesty and scolded Sasara in the strictest voice he could muster from himself through the raging cheeriness:
“...Hey, enough with the flattery.”
Little did he know, it seeped into his hushy tone anyway, in most endearing ways.
“Ye, ye, partner… So, should we try to write something?”
“I guess so? What would you want to rap about?”
“Mmm… We could listen to some and then maybe gauge what we wanna and don’t wanna put on-stage?~”
“...You’re all rhymes now, aren’t you. Phh.”
“But you’re engaged, ain’t it strange?~”
“Come on, enough for now. Don’t waste all of your brilliance on this…”
“Oka-a-ay, one exchange to rearrange…”
“...Seriously…”