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It was in the middle of a scorching summer when Tetsurou’s manager forcefully dragged him across the world to perform in his hometown for a music festival.
“I don’t want to go home.” He complained to his manager, Bokuto Koutarou. “Come on, Kuroo, it’s going to be fun, we can also go and see our old buddies.” He encouraged as they went and searched for their seats.
"Why couldn't you get us business class seats again?" Kuroo asks as he adjusts his cap and mask. Bokuto just let out a laugh before averting his gaze and continued walking into the aisle. Kuroo just shook his head.
“I couldn’t get us seats right next to each other, sorry about that.” Bokuto apologized as he got into an aisle seat a few rows front. This makes Tetsurou sigh of relief, but also make the frown in his face grow deeper. He worried he might be seated to someone who knew him and would ask a lot of questions.
Lucky for him though, he was assigned in a window seat, he was pleased to find that his row was still empty. For a good moment, he thought he had the whole row to himself, until he heard someone clear their throat. He looked up to find a good looking brown haired guy standing there. He guessed this stranger was about his age. The stranger had a neutral expression that made it hard for Kuroo to figure out if this guy knew him or not, but he was surprised to find out that they were going to be seated next to each other for the rest of their flight.
He chuckled as he reminded himself that not everyone knows him.
He first thought he was a foreigner and so he spoke to him in English, “I’m sorry.” He said as he went first and took his seat, followed by the stranger.
After that short exchange of words, silence filled the air between them and Tetsurou couldn’t be more happier that the stranger wasn’t the talkative and nosy type. He thought he could finally relax as he put on his headphones and closed his eyes.
But he couldn’t fall asleep at all. Frustratedly, he just stared out the window, watching as they soar above the view of the morning sky. All of a sudden, he remembered the need to check the schedule for the summer festival and accidentally sent one of the tickets for the festival flying and the stranger next to him picked it up for him since it was too far for Kuroo to reach.
“Arigatou.” he accidentally let his foreign language slip, he was surprised because he hasn’t spoken Japanese for years.
Maybe it’s because I’m coming back. Kuroo thought as he took the ticket from the stranger’s hands.
“Oh, you’re Japanese too?” The brown-haired boy asked him in Japanese after he finally settled back in his seat.
“Yeah.” Tetsurou lets out a short chuckle and turned back to his bag to continue searching for the schedule.
“Oh, you’re going to that concert? I didn't know Tetsurou is going to be headlining there.” Kuroo shot him a look, the other boy immediately raised a hand and shook it as if telling don’t get the wrong idea.
“I just read the ticket.” he said in defense, but it wasn’t about that that made Kuroo look at him. It was because of the mention of his name.
“Yeah, you know him?” Kuroo asked to try and know how much this guy knew about him.
“Nah, I just heard some of his songs and it’s terrible. I’m sorry if you like him man, I just have to say it, he sucks as hell.” Tetsurou couldn’t help but burst out into a chuckle loud enough to be heard by the ones seated on the next row, shooting them annoyed looks. He doesn’t know if the stranger just doesn’t know him completely or if he's making fun of him right in his face, but either way, it made him think this ride home might not be as bad as he thought.
“Oh, no. I totally agree with you. He sucks, alright.” He replied, completely forgetting about checking the schedule.
“I don’t even get why he’s world famous. His tunes hurt my ears and the lyrics are complete cliche.” The stranger explained furthermore, making him break into a lopsided grin.
“Oh, yes. I thought I was the only one that thinks that.” He went along, but deep inside he does agree with this stranger.
For Kuroo, it was fun at first, he enjoyed singing, he loved music more than anything, but the more he wrote music, the more it felt empty and hollow and even if he was loved all over the world, or at least his songs, he can’t help but slowly hate on his own words and tunes that used to be his comfort. The pressure of producing one hit after one hit was heavy on his shoulder and the fame was suffocating him.
“How much do you know about this Tetsurou?” He attempted to figure out more, the still unnamed boy half-shrugs as response.
”Oh, not much, I don’t even know what he looks like. When I hear a trash song, I quickly just put that artist on my blacklist.” He replied, it made sense to Kuroo now. An entertained chuckle leaves his mouth and nodded.
“I see.”
“So, what brings you here?” Kuroo asked, now curious of the entirety of the boy that slapped him the truth about his music.
“On this plane? Oh, I just went and visited a friend in the States for a while.” The brunette answered him unbothered that their conversation is being prolonged.
To Kuroo, it was refreshing not being able to be recognized. He was being roasted by this stranger and instead of being put off, he was more interested and he wanted to know him better.
To Oikawa, it was a relief to be able to tell someone his honest opinion about a world famous celebrity.
They were completely drawn to the strangers seated next to them.
It was as if Tetsurou was given the ticket to escape reality.
"How about you? Just here for the music festival?" Oikawa asks in return.
Kuroo shakes his head lightly, "No, it's my first vacation after a long time so I wanted to visit my home."
It was a lie, Kuroo had always been wary of coming home but Oikawa didn't seem to notice. A light glimmer crosses his eyes as he leans a tad closer, curious about the life of his temporary seatmate. It made Kuroo happy, he enjoyed his presence. It wasn't every day that he meets someone clueless of his career, someone who asks him questions outside of his income and music.
"How long have you been away?"
Kuroo tilts his head, "Uh, about seven years or so. I left after high school to study university abroad."
"Hmm, that's a long time. Were you lonely?"
"At times."
Oikawa chuckles, "I left Japan only a year ago but I felt like coming back so soon. I missed home a lot, you must be very strong."
Kuroo grins, "Maybe you just have really good friends and family."
"Don't you?"
"I do, but they all moved to different states too," Kuroo reminds himself of his best friends and how right now they're all as rich or richer than he was, "Enough about me, what did you do when you left?"
A small smile pinches Oikawa's lips, he says, "I write songs. I performed at this radio station once during my first month."
Kuroo's eyes widen slightly, "W-Wow, that's big! Did you get recognized?"
"Yeah, a producer came by days after but I declined," Oikawa snorts, waving a hand between the two of them, "I'm not interested in those kind of things."
"Why so?" Kuroo presses.
In the span of twenty minutes, Kuroo's interest was at it's peek. There's a lot of things so curious about Oikawa, he hated Kuroo, he hated his music, he was a singer, good enough to be invited by a producer but he had declined.
As far as Kuroo remembers, he had lived his life saying yes to offers, all with the thought of "If I don't take this, I might regret it." It baffled him how Oikawa can boast about saying no.
"Hmm, I guess think about that guy," Oikawa starts, pointing at the tickets for Kuroo's concert laid on the small desk in front of them, "I bet he can't eat at his favorite restaurant anymore or maybe go shop at the store he used to go to."
“I love music, I love singing and writing. It was an honor to be recognized, it was a real booster, but performing in radios are good enough for me."
Kuroo furrows his eyebrows, "So, you're saying you don't wanna get famous?"
"I'm saying I want to be kept free."
Oh.
Oh.
"That's..." Kuroo trails off, numbingly staring at Oikawa's face.
"Yeah, I know, it's lame. I sound so entitled and everything b—"
"No, no! I get it!" Kuroo stumbles, waving his hands, "I totally get it. That's really good for you, I admire that."
Oikawa grins, his cheeks a little red, "Thanks."
Their conversation flowed smoothly after, drifting from one topic to another. The long flight seemed easier as they giggle to themselves, sharing stories and other things. When they quieted down, they opted for movies and music.
At the last hour of their flight, they both shared an earbud. Kuroo figured out that his new friend loved sad songs, like LANY and The 1975. His music ranged from soul to pop, all with meaningful lyrics and bass focused.
"Can I hear one of your songs?" Kuroo requested, his head almost resting against his seat mate.
"Yeah, okay," Oikawa smiles.
As he listens, Kuroo had thought that this was the kind of music he wanted to make. Oikawa's voice was smooth and mellow, grumbling yet soothing. It felt like his head was being carded by the gentlest fingers. His lyrics are sad and full, deep yet easy to understand.
"You're amazing," Kuroo comments as it ends, "Seriously, that was so good!"
"Thanks," Oikawa blushes, lowering his head in bashfulness.
Their conversation was cut short as the plane announced its landing. Kuroo was agitated, practically bouncing off his feet. He wanted to invite Oikawa someplace else, wanted to talk about music more, wanted to know what inspired him.
He was everything Kuroo wasn't.
Oh yeah, he had yet to ask his name.
The plane had landed and everyone became busy with unloading.
"This is embarassing, but what's your name again?" Kuroo asks, a sheepish smile on his lips.
"It's fine, I'm Oi—"
"Kuroo! Come on, hurry!"
Bokuto cuts in, ushering Kuroo to stand up. He was practically dragging him off his seat. What the hell is so excited for?
"We gotta go before someone leaks you rode domestic instead of private, fans are already waiting in the exit and there's only a handful of security. The cars ready up front, a guy's already in charge of the luggage," Bokuto quickly runs down as they stood in the aisle, he was pushing him off already, "We gotta go."
Kuroo can only look back, to his unnamed friend, sitting back by their row with a confused and slightly worried expression.
"The exit! By the exit!" Kuroo says, loud enough for Oikawa to hear.
Oikawa nods in understanding. But then, remembering how wide the airport is, he asked himself, what exit is he talking about?
As Oikawa gathered his luggage, his mind wanders off to the boy he spent a hours with.
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to spend more time with him.” He thought as he smiled, reminiscing at the feeling of how comfortable they were with each other despite being strangers.
“Oh, did he tell me his name?” He wondered to himself, frowning as he started to walk, dragging his luggage behind him.
On the other hand, Kuroo mustered up the widest smile he’s mastered to show his fans for months now. Paparazzi's camera flashed everywhere, some reporters asking about a new song, a new single or a new album from him. He was escorted by security, preventing anybody to get into close contact with him. He waved one last time, yells and chants of his name echoing all around him, before one of the security guards opened the door for Bokuto and him.
After getting in the service car provided by the organizer of the music festival, he lets out an exasperated sigh, taking off the sunglasses Bokuto gave him just as they got out of the plane. He was overwhelmed by how much people showed up that he forgot about his new found friend.
Kuroo shifted on his seat as he attempted to glance back at the airport, staring longingly at the main exit he hoped to meet him. The car drives farther from the airport but his lips didn’t move to tell the driver to stop. He plopped back on his seat.
His teeth clenches as he lets his head hang back with a hopeless sigh, feeling the air conditioning of the car dry the sweat dripping down the sides of his face.
There’s no way we can meet with fans flooding the airport like that.
He scoffed as he realized, a friend? I don't even know his name.
By now he probably knows mine.
Kuroo couldn’t help but wish he saw the reaction on his face after he found out that he was Tetsurou.
How are we going to meet again now? He thought, gaze shifting to the heavily tinted window, displaying the city he’s grown to hate even after being far from it for years. The tall skyscrapers came in view, not differing from the ones he sees in LA. Still somehow, it made him feel nostalgic.
“Kuroo, you okay?” Bokuto speaks up, making Tetsurou glance over at him.
“I was okay until you dragged me out of the plane like there’s a ticking bomb," He replied in a gruff tone, it made Bokuto jut his lower lip like a kid being scolded.
“What's so wrong with that? I told you why. Did you meet someone or something?” Bokuto asked jokingly, but his facial expression quickly transitioned into an eager one as he recognize the face that Kuroo was making.
It took a while for Kuroo to admit. Even if he doesn’t want to, he was hoping maybe his manager might help him find the stranger that had piqued his interest.
“I did,” Kuroo mutters. Bokuto’s eyes widen in excitement.
“Really? What's their name? Did you get their number?" Bokuto asked even though he knows Kuroo enough to be able to get both. But seeing his downcast expression, his mouth dropped open.
“I don't know and no, because you dragged me out of there when he was about to tell me his name, you dumbass!" Kuroo growls, shooting daggers at Bokuto's way. The other just pouts, faked wiping a tear from his eye.
"Is that how you treat your manager?" Bokuto asked, clutching his chest in mock.
Kuroo just scoff, turning away from him, still visibly upset about the whole situation.
But fine, okay, there's no sense in blaming his manager because it was his fault for not asking earlier.
“I’m sorry,” He whispered, not attempting to repeat it when Bokuto asked him to.
Another sigh escapes his lips as he puts his forehead on the window.
They arrived in the hotel they’d be staying in for the next three days, just as he was getting changed to get ready for their meeting in regards of the music festival, Bokuto knocked on his door.
“We can meet the coor later, why don’t you explore for now?” Bokuto peeks his head in the door.
“I don’t really want to be out in the heat,” Kuroo said in monotone, taking off his sweaty shirt.
Bokuto lingers by the door, a slight frown marring his face, “If you say so." He says eventually, leaving Kuroo alone.
Kuroo was famous worldwide, but he hasn’t really released new songs for a year now. Bokuto even wonders if Kuroo had written anything in the past months. It was worrying Bokuto that soon, Kuroo might quit.
He didn't have the slightest idea why Tetsurou’s became like this. Kuroo used to tell Bokuto everything, as a manager and a friend, but recently, he’s been keeping it all to himself.
Bokuto knows he needs to step in, he knows how passionate Kuroo is in music but he wasn't about to force Tetsurou to write a half-hearted song. A sigh escapes his lips, hoping for something that might give Kuroo the motivation he desperately need.
The moment Bokuto had entered his own room, Kuroo had put on a cap and sunglasses as a disguise. He had lied about not wanting to go, sure that if Kuroo told Bokuto his inital plan, he wouldn't have let him leave.
He left his phone behind and got an extra ticket for the concert, then he walked out of the fancy hotel all by himself. It was seven years but he still remembers the ways of downtown Tokyo.
As he join in the wave of people crowding Shibuya, his eyes roam around aimlessly, hoping to find the unnamed boy he’s sat with. His face flickered on and off Kuroo's mind, the way he smiled confidently or the way his dark eyes would glitter or darken.
Kuroo was smitten.
He wander for hours without any destination in mind. In the end, he found himself in a local park, he sat on a bench, exhausted and drenched with sweat. It was a miracle he wasn’t identified with his puny disguise.
He leaned back and hung his head, a bitter smile spliting his lips, “I won’t see him again.” He mutters.
Kuroo watched the trees, leaves gently being rustled by the win. The refreshing breeze did a good amount of dulling the pain growing in his chest.
He heaves another sigh before he gets to his feet, dragging himself to the nearest vending machine for a bottle of water.
Another sigh as he went and called Bokuto through a public phone. It rang once, no hesitations in Bokuto's end, knowing that Kuroo was the only one who knew his personal number.
”Bo, can you pick me up?” He asked straightforwardly, telling his location before he hung up.
In the car, he stared at the ticket that he intended to give him.
“Fuck, I really won't be seeing him again,” Kuroo curses. Bokuto gave him a worried glance, not knowing what to say as he drove back.
“Kuroo, what's really wrong?” Bokuto asked him, tone heavy with concern for his friend.
"Nothing. I'm okay," Kuroo simply answers, closing the door behind him, leaving Bokuto on the other side with a sad look.
He plops down the bed, closing his eyes. Just as he was about to fade into unconsciousness, the stranger’s song echoes in his mind like a broken record. It was a surprise he caught on with the tune just by listening to it once.
Just by the mere memory of a tune fueled him. He stood up, his hands itching for something to write on, he scanned the room for his guitar. After finding it missing in his room, he went and rushed out and barged into Bokuto’s, where he found him in the middle of a phone call.
He got the guitar and got back to his own room without speaking. He was shaking in anxiety, finding a music sheet and crashing on the floor. Once the lead of the pencil connected to the paper, he couldn’t stop.
For once in a long time, he never felt so stoked to write a new song. Tunes, notes and lyrics flowed in his head like crazy.
It wasn’t his usual genre, but as he was working the chords to end the song, he was more than satisfied to have written such a piece.
He was about to record a short demo on his phone when he was interrupted by a knock on his door.
“Kuroo, should I move the meeting with the coordinators to tomorrow?" Bokuto asked, voice muffled.
“No, no, it’s alright," Kuroo answered, there was a moment of silence beford the door squeaked open and Bokuto pops his head inside.
“May I come in?” He asked, Kuroo nods and sets his guitar down, removing his headphones. Bokuto sits at the edge of his bed, looking at Kuroo on the floor.
“I’m going to speak to you not as a manager, but as a friend.” He started to say, putting his hands together. Kuroo waited for what he has to say, shifting on his seat to be able to face Bokuto.
“What’s up?” He asked, Bokuto looks up to see a different Kuroo. One he’s seen before. No, he’s not Kuroo, he’s Tetsurou. The music genius.
Bokuto saw the glimmer that shined in his eyes as he looks at him intently, Bokuto’s eyes widened.
“Wait, were you writing a song?” Bokuto asked, surprised. Kuroo nodded in response, a small smile playing at his lips, the smile radiated nostalgia and an odd satisfaction.
Kuroo realized that maybe coming back was really what he needed, not only did a stranger influence him to write again, but he also reconnected to his roots. After all, this city was where he had started.
Bokuto exhaled a sigh of relief and he grins to himself while shaking his head. “I had nothing to worry about, then.” He stated, making Kuroo furrow his brows.
“What do you mean? Didn’t you have something to tell me?” Kuroo asked, clueless.
Bokuto shakes his head, "Nevermind, man. I'll leave you to it. Meeting's in an hour, set an alarm."
"Yes, boss," Kuroo answers playfully.
It felt like Kuroo had been transported to the first days of him preparing for his debut album. The days were exhausting and he would barely sleep, but the feeling of writing and finishing songs was a sensation that would always be uncomparable.
He felt it again as he holds the completed music sheets. It had been a while, but the satisfaction was very familiar. There's a wide grin that splits his face as his alarm goes off, it was time for his meeting.
Bokuto noticed the aura around Kuroo as he walked in the room. The passion oozed out of him and it teased the widest grin in his face, he had introduced him to the manager excitedly.
"So, you will be singing at 5PM at the south stage. That will be three songs from your first album and a rendition of Blinding Lights, correct?" the coordinator backtracks, flipping through her notes.
Kuroo nods, "Yes."
The coordinator smiles, extending a hand, "That's settled then. We will be waiting for your performance tomorrow, Tetsurou."
They had exchanged goobyes, and Bokuto volunteered to see the coordinator out, leaving Kuroo to go back to his room and rest.
As he hops to his bed, the songs lingers in his lips and runs through his mind. It reminded him of him. It was somehow funny that it took a stranger and a trip back home to rekindle the dying fire in his heart, he can't believe he went so long without creating new music.
He was back. And he wanted to let everybody know.
The festival was wild. It's been a long time since Kuroo had attended one, he had missed the good music and the great crowds. Everybody was smiling and having fun, meeting new frieds and creating new memories. The grounds are damp and the air smelled sweet, as he steps foot on the general area, his name is chanted by hundreds and hundreds of fans.
It made his heart swell in joy and gratitude, he can't wait to let people hear him.
He can’t wait for people to hear his new song.
While waiting backstage, he tuned his guitar, prepping it. He was fidgeting from the excitement with the idea of surprising fans with the unreleased song. Bokuto stood beside him, watching him with a wide grin split across his face.
“You’re on, Tetsurou.” The stage director called for him. He nodded as response, quickly getting on his feet, wearing the guitar strap around his neck. He looked over at Bokuto, calling from behind.
“Good luck out there," Bokuto smiles with his arm stretched out for a fist bump, Kuroo returns his smile and connected his fist.
And then, he emerged from backstage. The setting sun blinded him for a moment, but as his eyes adjusted, a big crowd stretched as far as his eyes can see. Cheers erupted as he went centerstage, he felt the same burning nervousness from the first time he performed onstage.
It was a sensation he could never forget and could never get used to even after how many times he’s done it.
The orange-colored skies boosted his mood and he greeted the crowd.
The crowd responded with ear-deafening screams. Then, he introduced himself, joked a little before he started to sing his first song. The crowd silenced but soon joined in after the chorus, fists raised in the air as they waved in melody.
All throughout his performance, Kuroo can't help but search the crowd for a specific brunette. To his disappointment, he got through three songs without even getting at least a glimpse of him. How is he going to see him in this crowd anyway?
He gave up in his third song, letting out a little scoff as a though passes his head, of course he wouldn’t come, he hates my song.
But I wish he could’ve listened to this.
Kuroo thought as he strummed the guitar, this is his last one. Deep in his chest, he wanted to play more, wanted to sing more, at least until he arrives or until he catches sight, but he can’t be selfish.
The crowd silenced once again, he was supposed to play a rendition of Blinding Lights by The Weeknd but it was different.
He opened his mouth to release the first words from his new song, his eyes closes and his head tilts.
Kuroo hums, and he opened his eyes and a familiar face pops out of the crowd, in the VIP section. His mouth was left open and he had completely stopped strumming, leaving the crowd in wonder.
It took a minute, maybe two, enough to leave Bokuto and the staff in a panic, but he regained his senses and started strumming again. Their eyes didn’t leave each other. A soft and relieved chuckle escapes his lips.
The start of an untitled ballad song filled everyone’s ears, Tetsurou laughs into the mic, “This is a new song.” He introduced as if people haven’t noticed that yet. Kuroo felt too giddy, countless chuckles escaping him.
“It still needs a few revisions, but I really just want someone to hear this tonight," He explained, continuously strumming the intro chords for the second time.
“Like him, this one’s untitled, unnamed,” Kuroo murmurs, ending the intro with a long pause.
Then, he sang. A sad melody filled the air, and all the while, he kept his eyes on him.
Oikawa, in the crowd, breaks into a ruef grin as he watched his most hated singer onstage, singing a song he knew well was about him. His cheeks are flaming and he wanted to scream.
This is about me!
For once, he felt Tetsurou’s heart embedded on every lyric, his passion twined with the imperfect tune.
This is for you, he says.
Bokuto couldn't keep his smiles to himself, “He’s back.” He mutters. Eyes trained on Tetsurou play onstage with genuine emotions complimenting his sharp features.
Kuroo finished his song, the crowd remained silent, taking their time in letting his music sink in. Slowly, claps and deafening cheers errupted. Tetsurou was thankful, of course, but he just needed one approval.
But when he searched for him in the crowd, he had disappeared.
But unlike this morning, he wasn’t feeling like he had a huge hole punched into his heart. Instead, he feels it slowly filling with warmth and overwhelming satisfaction.
He waved one last time, said his goodbyes, bowed before he returned backstage, where Bokuto greeted him with a hug.
“You’re back, man,” He said as a form of congratulations. The coordinator also congratulated him, giving a token of appreciation for accepting the invite as a performer.
As the concert wrapped up, they were invited to the afterparty but Kuroo declined. Bokuto didn’t want to go without him either and so, they returned to their hotel earlier than anticipated.
The two main reasons why Kuroo turned down the party invitation was 1.) They needed to be early tomorrow for their flight home and 2.) He was itching to write another song.
Bokuto left him alone after 10 pm, knowing full wellKuroo had endless melodies and lyrics stored in his mind that he couldn’t wait to put on paper.
His image flashed in his head every now and then as he wrote.
The lingering question for his name hung on his tongue. But either he finds out or not, he doesn’t mind anymore.
He only has one thing to can say about what happened.
The whole world will know who brought him back.
Just as Kuroo was about to leave the country, he glanced back at the exit where he had promised to meet the stranger.
And maybe it was fate or the universe's token for his good work, but Kuroo saw him. Right there. Clear as day like he was sure it was him on his concert. He rushed over.
Bokuto noticed his sudden turn, but just as he was about to yell at him to come back, he sees the person Kuroo was going to. It must be him, so he stopped and waited, a hopeful feeling brewing in his chest for his best friend.
Kuroo took cautious but hasty strides, but the brown-haired boy gestured for him to stop. In the middle of the crowd, Kuroo obliged. He waited, maybe he wanted to be the one to approach me? Kuroo thought.
The distance between them was so close, he had questions and he neeeded answers. He wanted his name, his number, his address. He wanted one more round of his jokes and his laughters. And Kuroo desperately wanted to know what he thought of his song inspired by him. He wanted him.
But he couldn’t move. This was as close as two strangers will get, this was as far as they'll both influence. This was it.
He slowly raised his hands, and then, he waved his hands lightly, a pretty smile on his face. The prettiest smile Kuroo had ever seen, a golden boy just for him.
In the middle of the airport, with people rushing past and between them, he mouthed a word that left Kuroo with a bittersweet smile.
Kuroo mouthed it back, hesitantly and carefully, before he finally turned to catch up with Bokuto. Never turning back.
Sayonara.