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Rio holds his head with his left hand, his fingers lightly gripping his hair. In his right hand rests a pen, that he rolls idly between his thumb and his middle finger as he glances at his desk. On it lies a sheet of paper covered in black words and dark scribbles.
He’s not at his first all-nighter. He’s used to stay up late, working on compositions until the stars shy away from the sky, chased by the rising sun. There’s nowhere else he’d wish to be though, for he has found his place ever since he’s joined Argonavis, even if he rarely ever expresses this fact to his bandmates, much less to the world.
Now, however, is one of those rare times when he actually feels the bags under his eyes. For someone like him, who’s always excellent at whatever he tries, finding himself at a dead end feels rather rough.
The injury that closed the path to becoming a professional baseball player for him hurt his heart, even more so than the pain he had felt in his flesh. That first obstacle in his life had had the effect of a thunderstrike and joining Argonavis was what had given him the lift to start over. To be more specific, it was Wataru’s lyrics that sparked his wish to be a part of this band. Now, he doesn’t regret a thing.
So, when Wataru had said that he was curious to see Rio write lyrics of his own, he’d remained stunned, speechless. Sure, he could do anything if he put his heart to it. But trying to write lyrics was something that had never crossed his mind. He held a lot of admiration towards Wataru. Perhaps that’s why he’d felt so shocked at his bandmate’s request for him to write a whole song by himself.
“I surely want to discover an aspect of Kikyou that I don’t know about,” Wataru had said in front of his four bandmates during an afternoon of practice.
Since when has this become a need to impress Matoba more than a personal challenge, Rio wonders fondly as he contemplates where his mind is taking him and flips his pen for umpteenth time. He gazes at the clock settled on his desk. Two o’clock in the morning. A gentle smile crosses his lips, faint but undoubtedly here, bringing a warm memory along with it.
He remembers it like it was yesterday. Wataru barging into his room in the middle of the night. Like now, he’d been working on a song, albeit composing it. A song that they had very little time to perfect and practice. Surely, it had been around 2am as well.
When Rio had heard the sound of the door breaking open, he’d turned around, a hand on his chair’s backrest, a surprised look on his face. He’d been met with a panting Wataru, holding his notebook and multiple pieces of paper in his hands.
At that moment, Wataru’s chest was heaving. Up, down. Up, down. His heart pounding so loud that Rio could almost hear it from where he sat. He could see pearls of sweat covering the bassist’s temples and observe how they rolled down his cheeks. He perceived Wataru’s short breath, sign of the rush of hurry that had brought him to his room. His pupils were trembling lightly, indicating that he didn’t manage to fix his gaze on anything, probably from exhaustion.
At last, when finally their eyes had met, tiredness and hesitance had seemed to fade from within the bassist, and as his lower lips stopped shaking, he’d declared:
“I’m done. Would you mind going over the lyrics with me?”
Of course, Rio had offered him a kind but slight nod, inviting Wataru to sit next to him at his desk.
Root of Love, he’d read at the top of the first sheet that Wataru had presented to him. And, as they reviewed the product of Argonavis’ lyricist’s work together, Rio had found his heart beating with a foreign strength as he let Wataru’s words fill him and inspire him the last adjustments he needed to make for the song.
Rio stops fiddling with his pen, finding a renewed firm grasp over it. At last, he faces his notes and the bits of lyrics he’s written this far. That’s it, he thinks, and his pen starts gliding over the white of the paper lying before him. He’s found it, the piece that lacked to perfect the song he’s been making. The heart of his song. Everything that makes himself who he is, here and now.
Adrenaline keeps him awake through the night and going, along with the urgency of having to finish his song by the band’s next practice, to be held early in the afternoon. He doesn’t keep track of the time that flows, and when he’s finally done, the sun is already high in the sky.
As his tension threatens to wane past the effort that kept him up all night, a surge of panic rises in his chest. He doesn’t hear anyone in the share-house, everyone must have already left for practice. He’s going to be late if he doesn’t hurry.
*
He’s made it, eventually. Slightly late, a first for him, but he’s made it.
With a mix of uncharacteristic enthusiasm and apprehension, Rio shows his finished song to his bandmates, holding his breath without realizing as they listen to it with a keen ear. It goes well, though, because of course it would, and Wataru even says that, for sure, it is an aspect of Rio that he didn’t know until now.
Quiet Dance.
The result of Rio’s reflection, of his struggles. A product of what he is, of his beliefs. For the first time in his life, he isn’t convinced that he can reproduce the feat that he’s just accomplished a second time, let alone doing it on a regular basis. Yet it is an achievement nonetheless, one that he savors proudly.
When practice ends this day, he finds himself lingering in the studio, marking the place with his presence for a bit longer, even when Banri has told them to hurry out like he always does. When he finally leaves, he notices that Wataru has been waiting for him in the hall. The bassist greets him silently, and they head out without exchanging words for a while.
“The others went ahead, I think they all had stuff to do this afternoon,” Wataru explains. “What are you planning to do?”
“I don’t have any plans, so I’ll probably head back home directly. You?” Rio answers. He’s being hit by the backlash of his all-nighter, and it’s starting to show.
“Yeah, I guess you need some rest after all that work. I’ll probably be hanging around a bit more before going back. Might go to a café or something,” Wataru adds, his eyes betraying that he’s already thinking about the sweets he’s going to have.
To that Rio nods, and he remains quiet at first.
They walk a piece of road together some more, their shoulders almost brushing as they stride side by side in the crowded streets of Tokyo. Before they part, Rio speaks again.
“Matoba, would you mind meeting me tonight?” he inquires.
It’s completely out of the blue, and Wataru doesn’t try to hide his surprise. “Sure,” he answers, nonetheless. It’s rare for Rio to ask for someone to hang out with him, but he figures that it can’t hurt to accept. “I’ll just come to your room in the evening, is that okay with you? We’ll decide what to do from there on,” Wataru offers, to which Rio agrees.
When the keyboardist finally gets home, he sinks into his bedsheets, immediately drifting off to sleep.
*
Several knocks at Rio’s door resound in the share-house. It isn’t that late in the evening, but night has already fallen over Tokyo a few hours prior. When his attempts don’t prove to be fruitful, Wataru gives up, deciding that it’s better to give Rio the time he needs to rest instead of insisting and going into his room uninvited.
Not that he is uninvited exactly, but if his bandmate is still asleep, Wataru finds it rude to push his luck and just enter. Even though he’s the one who’s been asked out, somehow. Truly, this day has been eventful, and Wataru is starting to wonder if Rio will ever stop to surprise him. His chest tightens, for a reason he has refused to face ever since he’d noticed that despite all their fights, he’d grown more attached to the keyboardist than he thought he would at first.
Honestly, he’s always looked up to Rio, and thought of him as a friend, maybe even more, but he’d never expected them to get along as well as they do now, he ponders as he settles in the couch. It’s late enough that everyone else in the share-house has gone to bed, and for an instant he considers doing the same. He doesn’t, though.
Instead, he remains there, lounging in the living-room idly, unable to decide on anything to do of his night.
Night is already deep when Rio finally awakes. He glances at his clock. It’s past 1am. He bites his lips, reflecting on how he’d offered Wataru to hang out and ended up sleeping through the whole evening.
He wakes up nonetheless, getting out of his room, deciding that he should at least grab something to eat. When he gets to the living-room, though, he stops.
“Matoba…?”
Silence only answers to him for a short while, but he eventually hears the shuffling of fabric.
“Ah, Kikyou, you’re awake,” Wataru replies. His voice sounds a tad sleepy, but he leaves his spot on the couch and walks towards Rio.
“Don’t tell me you were waiting for me…” Rio starts, then closes his mouth shut for a moment. “Actually no, I’m sorry.”
Wataru shakes his head no, offering Rio a smile. “It’s fine, I wasn’t really waiting or anything. I just settled on the couch and, guess sleep got the better of me eventually,” he explains, and the keyboardist knows he’s sincere. “Do you still want to hang out? I know it’s late, but we could go for a walk or something,” Wataru offers.
“Just let me eat something and I’m up,” Rio agrees.
So they go out, just like that. They appreciate the chilly night breeze on their cheeks, vivifying but not too cold.
They walk for a while, talking about anything and everything. More of anything than everything, actually. Eventually, they cross a park, and there’s a silent mutual understanding going between them, telling them that it’s a good place to settle and have a conversation. An actual one.
There’s a pavilion in the deserted park, and they make their way towards it. Wataru is slightly ahead of Rio, and when the keyboardist raises his gaze in his bandmate’s direction, he notices the bassist is dancing. The rhythm of his steps reminds him of the song he’s just composed for Argonavis, and when he sings it mentally to himself, he realizes that that’s exactly to what Wataru must have been dancing. Rio’s chest feels warm.
They’re both surprised when their eyes meet, so much that Wataru stops dancing, but they don’t say anything, afraid that it would break the magic of the instant. The bassist sits first in the pavilion, and Rio is quick to join him, sitting at the side opposite to him.
“I couldn’t get your song out of my system,” Wataru explains eventually, a shy smile adorning his lips. “If I may be honest, I never expected you to show yourself in such a vulnerable light, Kikyou,” he adds, reflecting on their day out loud.
“Thank you,” is all that comes out of Rio’s mouth.
“Huh?”
Wataru is surprised. He stares at Rio, hoping that he will elaborate. He does.
“I would have never known that I’m capable of this if it weren’t for you. I wouldn’t have known that I… had this in me, if it weren’t for you.” The words spill out of Rio’s mouth. “I wouldn’t even be in this band if not for your lyrics, Matoba,” he adds, for good measure, because he can’t stop now.
“It’s Yuu who got you into the band though,” Wataru states, matter-of-factly, because it’s the truth.
“You’re the one who sparked it into me,” Rio counters, his tone level, as matter of fact as Wataru is.
Wataru just nods, because this doesn’t ask for an answer, and he knows it’s right. Otherwise Rio wouldn’t have seemed so affected when his notebook got stolen and burnt.
“Your song, it’s good,” he declares after a while. “I like it.”
And as he says that he stands and resumes his dancing. He doesn’t think he’s even remotely good at dancing, but somehow at this moment it doesn’t matter to him, because it’s Rio who’s watching, and they’ve shown much more to each other through their lyrics than just that.
And Rio is captivated, entranced by Wataru’s steps, the way his body moves, how he’s basking in the moonlight. “You’re beautiful, Matoba,” he blurts out like he hasn’t thought his words through, like it’s the only thing that’s graced his mind within the past few minutes, since Wataru started dancing again.
And Wataru has to stop, eyes wide as surprise hits him. He looks at Rio, intently, like he’s trying to see past his eyes, to grasp the implications past the words he’s just heard. They remain like this for a while, quietly gazing at each other.
They don’t know how much time has passed since silence fell on the pavilion, until Rio rises to his feet. He takes a few steps in Wataru’s direction, who’s still motionless. They don’t break eye contact.
“It must be around 2am now, a bit past it, maybe,” Wataru states, and Rio knows that he’s referring to his lyrics more than to the fact that it’s way too late in the night to be hanging out in a deserted park.
“I noticed,” he answers, because of course he would. Because he’d never expected to see the very person that sparked and enhanced his passion for music, for Argonavis, dance in front of him in the middle of the night, and it makes it all the more special.
They’re close now, enough for Wataru to feel Rio’s breath on his lips. When he does, he draws in a deep breath. The bassist tiptoes slightly to compensate the slight height difference there is between them, because he suddenly doesn’t know what to do with this new feeling of proximity. Rio cups his cheek, and Wataru has to bite his own lips ever so slightly, reflexively.
“Stop me if this is wrong.” It is but a whisper, so low that Wataru doubts his ears when he first hears it.
But Rio is leaning in, and when their lips meet, overlapping gently, all he can do is believe. They kiss like this, chaste and genuine, and Wataru has to resist to avoid melting into it when his knees threaten to falter.
When they part, it’s a heartfelt laugh that comes out of the bassist’s mouth.
“Was that weird?” Rio asks worriedly, the characteristic frown that never lets out too much of his emotion adorning his features.
“No, no!” Wataru utters hurriedly. “It’s just, how can I put it… I always thought you were like, mad at me because we always fight over random stuff. This feels completely surreal. I might as well still be dreaming on that couch…” his voice trails off. A grin is shining on his face, though.
Rio’s frown deepens, but he doesn’t question anything he’s just been told, instead bringing rationale into the conversation like he always does. “I can assure you it’s real, as strange as the situation we’re in may sound.”
A few more minutes run away in silence before Wataru inquires: “Can I kiss you again?”
When Rio offers him a nod, the bassist’s lips are almost already on his, a bit bolder and more assured. They indulge in each other like that for a bit longer, until they have to part again for air.
“I love you.” Another whisper, delicately and carefully deposited directly into Wataru’s ear.
“Me too.” One more whisper, lost in the secrecy of night but not to Rio’s ears. “I’m a bit late on that one, but you’re the one who’s beautiful,” Wataru then adds after a break.
“And you are stunning. Breathtaking, even,” Rio continues as the image of Wataru dancing in the moonlight crosses his mind.
The bassist hides his face in the crook of Rio’s neck as he’s hit by a fresh wave of self-consciousness. He doesn’t agree, but maybe, only maybe, if Rio insists, he can try to believe this as well.
They’re both scared of breaking the magic between them, but they also know that they eventually have to head back. So they prolong their embrace for as long as they find it reasonable. Exchanging few kisses and light touches at times. When they finally decide to go, they’re smiling contentedly at each other on the way back.
They don’t speak much, because despite all the disagreements they may have, they’ve built an affinity that doesn’t need many words. Their bond just seems to function naturally.
“We’ll have to tell the others about this, though, right?” Wataru eventually chirps with a shy voice.
“That we just started dating overnight? That’s going to sound fairly suspicious,” Rio answers with a seriousness that will never cease to impress the bassist, even though he knows that the keyboardist must be joking. At least he thinks so.
“Not the details, silly. Just, the fact that we kind of, got together,” he explains himself.
“I wasn’t planning to hide anything from them though,” Rio says, and Wataru has to admit that he’s once again impressed, because it sounds like the idea of a coming out being something complicated hasn’t even occurred to the keyboardist. He agrees, though, because it’s convincing enough, and he knows their friends are always supportive and understanding.
When they get back to the share-house, they’re relieved to see that their bandmates are still sound asleep, unaware of their little night trip. The sun’s about to rise, as indicated by the obscure sky’s shade turning slightly lighter. They both know the night will be short, especially for Wataru, who has barely slept before they went out. They couldn’t care less, though, for tomorrow is another day.
Before they finally split up for the night, Rio captures Wataru in one last embrace, carefully stealing his lips one last and quiet time before they head back to their respective rooms. They don’t say a thing, but the enamored glance they share at that moment means the world to both of them.