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HIIRAGI ALWAYS KNEW HE WOULD END UP IN THIS POSITION.
Well, not always; in fact, Shizusumi being in a relationship was a far away thought for a long time. During the entire duration of their secondary school career, he showed little interest in anyone, so much that Hiiragi was almost convinced that he would always be by himself—not that that was an issue or anything, to each their own and all that, but it was certainly different than what Mafuyu and Yuki had going on at the time. And Hiiragi hadn’t been dating either, but he wasn’t opposed to the idea like Shizu seemed to be. He would have dated then, no problem. If he had found someone. Or if he’d opened his eyes enough to actually look.
But there was a shift in Shizu as the band took off and they garnered more attention. He’d always gotten glances and smiles and other warm tokens of affection—he’s always been rather attractive, anyway, and the whole drummer in a band thing immediately became an extra ten or so points—but this kind was different. People at school liked him. Fans of the band adored him, as Hiiragi would observe in between pictures and accepting gifts outside of the back exit of the venues they would play. They were falling in love with the perception of him they had through interviews and photos and the way he played. He wasn’t Hiiragi’s secret anymore, nor did he seem to be as blind to the fact that he could realistically get anyone he wanted if he tried as he once was.
And eventually, as Hiiragi expected he would, Shizu cracked. He stopped throwing away Twitter and Instagram handles after he walked into the hotel room they always shared like he would before. Maybe Hiiragi was paying a little too much attention, but he could have sworn that he started flirting back when he was complimented (seriously, where the fuck did he learn how to flirt and why was it so damn charming?), just testing the waters a bit. He was still gentlemanly, of course—he’d just become acutely aware of the fact that he was lusted for, and he saw little point in completely ignoring it, as most anyone would.
So Hiiragi knew this would happen. He just wished it wouldn’t be so soon.
He’s thought about going on dates with Shizu. The thoughts have always been merely experimental, present just for a few moments getting swept away in a wave of lyrics and melodies and other miscellaneous shit, but he’s gotten the same gist from the fragments of those visions; Shizu would be one to think about the ‘perfect’ date extensively, and whatever he came up with would be elaborate and fucking beautiful because that’s the kind of person he is—the kind who finds his own happiness in that of others. He’ll spend whatever, do whatever, even, to unlock those smiles, the twinkling of eyes, the withheld but still entirely present excitement.
This is quite in line with all of that.
The restaurant’s light stems from dim, low-hanging crystal chandeliers, and the candlestick holders splitting the center of the table may be made of real gold, judging by the atmosphere of the place. Hiiragi makes a mental note to check the price of a reservation alone later and base the authenticity of the gold(?) on that. He places his bets anywhere between ten and twenty thousand yen, and he assumes the gold is real, or at least a dupe so good he has to respect it.
When he brings himself to lift his eyes, he takes Shizu in all of his glory in for the first time this evening. He certainly looks like he belongs here, for one. His dark hair is pushed back. He’s dressed in a black button down that hugs his nice build perfectly, and there’s a watch on his wrist that ties everything on his upper half together. It’s silver. His jewelry is always silver. The watch. The ring on his right index finger that matches the one on Hiiragi’s left. Friendship rings signifying their completely platonic love and appreciation for one another—because that’s very common and normal.
Hiiragi imagines reaching out and intertwining their hands. The rings would brush against one another, and Shizu would smile to himself in the way he does only in moments of pure light. He imagines all of this being for him—
Then remembers that it could have been.
They were on their first international tour—in Europe, opening for a western band that Uenoyama liked who had reached out to them. Their ability to drink legally there was pleasantly surprising (not that they didn’t drink back at home because it wasn’t legal, seeing as underaged drinking is, like, tier one on the illegality pyramid next to shit like going two kilometers per hour over the speed limit and pirating films) and they made sure to take full advantage of it, buying a six pack of beer and holing themselves up in their hotel room with it after returning from their show.
It was in Paris.
Hiiragi knew he couldn’t hold his alcohol for shit, but he was comfortable with Shizu. Even if he got piss drunk off of two beers—which he was well aware was very embarrassing, thank you very much—he would wake up tucked into bed with a glass of water beside him and Shizu not far away.
He’d never been able to trust anyone that way. Only Shizu.
So he did, in fact, get drunk off two (and a half, a slight improvement) beers. He probably would have been even further gone if Shizu didn’t take the bottle from his hand mid-gulp and set it out of reach, knowing that Hiiragi couldn’t be assed to retrieve it once it was confiscated. He opted to lay down on Shizu’s lap instead, honey eyes staring out of the unobstructed window, and Shizu almost immediately buried his fingers in his blonde and brunette strands and began combing through them.
There must have been something in the Parisian air, because Hiiragi couldn’t tell if he loved that or Shizu more.
He relaxed into the touch, into him. He was quiet, which was rare, but his head was screaming I’m in love. I’m in love. I’m in love.
“Hiiragi.”
“Hm?” he hummed in response.
“I used to be in love with you.”
At first, Hiiragi thought it was the alcohol in his system playing tricks on him. Warping his perception of things. It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Hm?”
“I used to be in love with you,” Shizu repeated. “So in love with you that instead of this, I probably would’ve taken you to the Eiffel Tower. And gotten one of those locks they put on the bridges. I always thought of that. You were the only person I wanted to be with for a long time, anyway.”
Hiiragi’s next thought was that it was probably the alcohol in Shizu’s system. But he wasn’t drunk or even close to it yet; he could hold his liquor. Even if he couldn’t, he would stop drinking at an appropriate time because self-control wasn’t a foreign concept to him. Hiiragi didn’t think he’d ever seen Shizu properly drunk. So he was fully thinking, fully coherent, if a little buzzed.
It was only then that the thought of Shizusumi being in love with him registered. Then, in one crushing blow, the words ‘used to be’ processed. He loved him once, but not anymore. It wasn’t a matter of Shizu being in love with him, but a matter of Shizu having been in love with him.
Hiiragi’s heart broke once when Yuki died, and again when Mafuyu left without a trace after that, severing their friendship in the process (though it did, eventually get rebuilt). As he stared out of a window at buildings lit up at dark by glowing lights, at the Eiffel Tower shining in the distance, at the city of love mocking him, he felt it break for the first time since he was 16.
“What happened?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. He couldn’t bring himself to turn over and look up at Shizu. More than anything, he wished he’d drank more so he could be more numb than he was, which was, painfully, hardly at all.
”I moved on. You live and learn, right?” Shizu let out a sigh, one that sounded like he was finally letting go of years of suppressed emotions and quiet admiration, and Hiiragi quickly realized that all of the weight Shizu breathed out, he breathed in. His heart was breaking and his stomach was turning and his eyes stung and God, he didn’t think he’d ever been in so much pain. “I’ll always love you. I just learned how to do it in a different way.”
“But why didn’t you tell me?”
“I am telling you. It wouldn’t have mattered before now.” As much as Hiiragi wanted to scream that it would have mattered, that it would have made every difference, he didn’t. Instead, he silently began to cry. It was extremely typical of him, so typical that Shizu probably wouldn’t have suspected anything out of the ordinary if he saw. Which was good. For the first time, being reputed as a ridiculously emotional person and an even more emotional drunk helped him out.
So he sat and cried, because everything was too much. Way too much. And Shizu lifting his upper body up from his lap so he could slide from below him and setting him back down so gently that not a single hair fell out of place didn’t do anything to help. I’m in love. I’m in love. I’m in love.
And it fucking hurts. “I’ll be back. Uenoyama just texted.”
Hiiragi nodded, still turned away from him, and at the same time, a tear hit the mattress.
At first, he let Shizu walk away. But as he heard the door unlatch and creak as it was pulled open, he realized that that was what got him into the mess he was in, as unintentional as it had been.
“Shizu?”
“Mm?”
“I love you.”
He knew it was too late. But he selfishly wanted to hear those three words uttered back to him, and they came both sweetly and painfully—
“I love you too.”
So, now, Hiiragi reminds himself that he can’t be upset that Shizu is extending his love past him and into the world where it belongs; he had his chance for however many years, and he blew it. So he’ll sit here and smile in the face of Shizu’s date (girlfriend?), tell him he’s glad to meet her when all he wants is to be in her place, because that’s what best friends do. That’s what Shizu wanted when he asked him to come, and Hiiragi would do anything for him.
And when she walks in at exactly six o’clock, Shizu stands. Hiiragi does, too, just with less urgency, and once he lays eyes upon her, he takes note of a couple of things.
I. He can almost swear he’s seen her before. He can’t place where, but she looks familiar. Was it after a show? Did she work at one of the venues they played? Did they go to school together? He racks his brain, but nothing comes up. He makes a note to himself to ask later.
II. She’s small. Shizu is a whopping 186 centimeters after he didn’t stop growing until he turned 18 even though he was so tiny once, so maybe it’s just a comparative thing. But she looks small, anyway, and she fits perfectly into his side when they do one of those side hugs that seems awkward but works for them.
III. They look good together. Like a proper couple. It kind of pisses Hiiragi off.
Shizu introduces her, and he doesn’t even catch her name because he’s so focused on if he’s smiling wide enough and if he looks sincere doing so. They offer one another a slight, friendly bow, and when they make eye contact again, Hiiragi can’t help but notice how soft her eyes are.
“It’s really nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot.” Hiiragi can tell that she means it by her tone, that she’s sincerely excited to meet him, so he widens his smile a bit. Upon his lack of a timely verbal response, she quickly follows it up with, “All good things, of course.”
“Good.” Teasingly, he turns to Shizu. “I’d be a shame if he was talking bad about me behind my back.”
“I wouldn’t,” Shizu utters.
Hiiragi can tell that he means that, too.
And the evening begins. Rin (Hiiragi picked her name up in conversation. It’s cute.) talks, and Shizu listens. He’s always been a good listener—had to be, being best friends with him. Hiiragi can tell he’s truly interested, because he gives her his undivided attention as she speaks. Well, partially divided, because he glances at Hiiragi every now and then to make sure he’s alright before turning back towards her.
Even when they don’t talk, Shizu has a faint smile on his face, something that’s always been far and few between with him. Hiiragi knew that he must have liked her if he wanted him to meet her, but he knows that he really likes her by the way he smiles. Might be a little in love, even.
He has to look away. He fixates on the plain white tablecloth for the time being, then stares at his food when it arrives. It was certainly expensive and he feels bad not touching it considering that Shizu is definitely going to insist on paying for everything, but he can’t bring himself to eat.
His phone vibrates, the screen simultaneously illuminating. Below the message icon reads Shizu-chan. As if he’s not sitting right across from him. You okay?
Hiiragi quickly types out a response. I’m fine.
He expects that to be the end of it, but Shizu types something else. Hiiragi knits his eyebrows together a little, until his screen lights up again. You’re still my favorite.
Lump in his throat, Hiiragi turns his phone over.
“So, Rin,” he pipes up to distract from Shizu’s declaration. “what do you do?”
“Oh, I’m a photographer. I usually do concerts, but I try to broaden my horizons beyond that when I can.”
Hiiragi figures that that’s where he recognizes her from. They have little direct interaction with the photographers during shows, seeing as they’re typically escorted in while they’re backstage prepping and the lighting is so damn bright that you can hardly see what's a few centimeters in front of you clearly, but he’s scrolled through the social media accounts of some of the photographers who have captured them before. She was probably one.
“She took the picture of you I really liked, remember?”
It takes a moment, but Hiiragi does remember. The visual of him in high-definition, bathed in red light mid-song resurfaces, as does the look on Shizu’s face when he first saw it. Hiiragi knew that he was in love with the picture, but he pretended that he was still in love with him instead. Just for a few moments.
“Yeah . . . what show was that from again?” Hiiragi asks.
“Paris. I studied there.” Rin smiles. Go fucking figure. “I never would have expected him to message me and ask to meet up. Just when I was starting to think that photography wouldn’t work out . . .”
“You’re really talented, you know,” Hiiragi musters, though his mind is restless. He would have taken him to the Eiffel Tower, would have gotten one of those love locks to put on a bridge somewhere and eternalize their love, Shizu said. Had he not fallen out of it. So would he do it all with her? Will Paris be theirs now?
“Thank you. You, of course, are, too. I love your music.”
“Thanks.” Hiiragi smiles, and he’s pretty sure it translates well externally, but it cuts like a thousand knives for him. He’s mostly quiet for the rest of the night. He knows it’s rude, but it’s really fucking hard for him. And every time he learns something else, it seems to get harder.
He tries not to sigh out of relief when the date ends and they part ways. Shizu walks her to her car (why wouldn’t he?), situating himself in the driver’s seat of his own after she leaves. They’re right next to each other, but Hiiragi almost feels like they can’t be further apart.
“What do you think about her?” Shizu asks.
“She’s nice. Pretty. All of that.” Hiiragi knows that doesn’t suffice, but he’s really not interested in going on. He wonders if this is how Shizu felt during all of those years hearing Hiiragi talk about the people he was interested in, if what he unintentionally put him through was just as torturous. “I’m happy for you.”
He is.
That was clearly all Shizu needed to hear, because he thanks him. Hiiragi doesn’t look at him—can’t look at him—but he can tell he’s smiling.
He hears Shizu’s phone vibrate, followed by a quiet laugh. He tilts his phone so Hiiragi can see the message: That was scarier than meeting the parents… He’s so intimidating T.T
Hiiragi laughs at that one, too. The closest thing to a laugh that he can muster, anyway.
“So, what?” Hiiragi asks as Shizu drops his phone into the cup holder and puts the key into the ignition. “Do you think she’s the one?”
“I don’t know. Haven’t really thought about it.”
Hiiragi always knew that he would end up in this position, but he thought he would be able to manage. Thinking he could hold onto Shizu forever was idealistic at best. They’re growing up now—Shizu’s going on twenty in a few months. They aren’t six years old and within their own world anymore. Even if it isn’t Rin, Shizu is going to find someone, fall in love, and probably get married, because that’s what he deserves.
Hiiragi knows it’s selfish to hope for anything but for Shizu to be happy no matter what that looks like for him, but he wishes it were him. It could have been, but it won’t be. That’s something he’ll have to live with.
In the meantime, he smiles a little, leaning his head against the window. “Shizu.”
“Hm?”
“I love you.”
He always will. He’ll just have to learn to do it in a different way.
From his peripherals, he sees Shizu extend his free hand. Rolling his eyes, he accepts the offer, placing his hand in Shizu’s and letting their fingers intertwine. Like it’s second nature, Shizu replies, “I love you too.”
And it may not be enough for Hiiragi now, but it will be.
Eventually.