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Several hours ago, Juza had gotten married, and he hadn’t stopped floating since.
Not literally floating – though if someone had told him his feet were no longer touching the ground, he would’ve believed them. Though physically, he was standing in the dorm courtyard holding a glass of wine while surrounded by all of his closest friends, mentally he was soaring among the clouds.
Juza Hyodo-Settsu. He repeated it to himself. Juza Hyodo-Settsu, Juza Hyodo-Settsu…
He never thought a name could taste sweet – that was just some cliché that showed up in Muku’s shoujo manga and Homare’s love poetry. Turns out, they were right all along.
The shock of mentally admitting that Homare was right about something was enough to send him plummeting back down to earth, just in time for him to catch the tail end of Banri’s sentence.
“…think of the ceremony?” said Banri, casually swirling his glass of wine. “Went off without a hitch, right?”
“Yeah! You were amazing, Juza!” Kumon said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “And I guess you were okay too, Banri.”
Banri made a face. “What kinda way is that to talk to your brother-in-law, huh?”
“Sorry, force of habit,” Kumon replied, not sorry at all. “But really, congrats! I mean it!” He enveloped Juza in a hug, which Juza gratefully returned.
“I’ll never forget this day as long as I live!” cheered Muku as he joined the Hyodo-Sakisaka family group hug. “You feel the same way, right, Juchan?”
“Yeah,” Juza lied.
To be honest, the ceremony had been a complete blur. Juza had tried to pay attention, he really had, but the second Banri had taken his arm for their walk down the aisle, fireworks had gone off in his mind, silencing all rational thought. All he could remember clearly was the way his throat and eyes had burned as he tried not to burst into tears at the altar. He could only pray he didn’t look too constipated in the wedding video, or else he’d never hear the end of it from Banri.
Joke’s on him, though – Banri was the one who’d cracked first, openly weeping in front of the entire company when Juza recited his vows. Or maybe he was the first one to cry. Or maybe it was Sakyo. Come to think of it, it seemed like maybe everyone was crying at one point.
Well, the details weren’t all that important, he rationalized. At the end of the day, Banri had said a bunch of stuff, he’d said a bunch of stuff, Kamekichi (who’d insisted on officiating) had said a bunch of stuff, and suddenly he was kissing Banri and a whole lot of people were cheering. He was cheering too, on the inside. He had wanted to cheer on the outside as well, except that meant he would have to stop kissing Banri.
He was about to float up to the rooftops again when he registered that the others were still talking.
“Gotta say, all the vows and everything were… shockingly normal,” said Tenma.
Banri cocked an eyebrow. “You sayin’ the ceremony was boring?”
“Don’t go putting words in my mouth!” Tenma retorted. “The ceremony was fine!”
“C’mon, Tenten, it was better than fine! It was straight-up magic!” Kazunari said, playfully slapping him on the back.
“You should’ve seen the hack when you two were exchanging the rings,” Yuki said, joining Kazunari in clapping Tenma on the back. “Weeping like a damn baby.”
“Nobody asked you!” Tenma hollered. “And enough with the physical violence!”
I can’t believe these guys are adults, Juza thought.
“I think what Tenma’s trying to say is, he’s amazed you two didn’t start throwing hands at the altar,” said Taichi.
“’Course not,” said Juza. “What kinda wedding would that even be?”
“An on-brand one, for you two at least,” Itaru shot back.
Well, he couldn’t argue with that. To absolutely no one’s surprise, Banri could.
“Whaddya mean? Hyodo and I haven’t fought like that in years.”
“What do you mean?” Tsuzuru cut in. “Literally two minutes before the ceremony started, you were bickering about whether it’s pronounced Groundhog’s Day or Groundhog Day.”
“Wait, what kind of sociopath pronounces it ‘Groundhog’s Day’?” said Yuki, incredulous.
“Yeah, Hyodo,” said Banri, elbowing him. “Who does that?”
“Oh, don’t even start,” Juza muttered, taking a sip of wine.
“For the love of God,” said Sakyo, shaking his head. “It’s just like you to pick a fight with Hyodo over something idiotic right before you marry him.”
“Oh, c’mon. It wasn’t a fight. Just a difference of opinion. Conflict’s a natural part of every relationship, ain’t it?”
“For a given value of ‘natural’, yes,” said Itaru, rolling his eyes.
“Right! So sure, Hyodo and I fight. We’re different people, it’s gonna happen. But it’s not like I’m going out of my way to argue with-”
Sakyo snorted, almost dropping his wine glass as he attempted to muffle his laughter.
“I’m serious!” Banri looked to Juza, as if to say: This is the part where you agree with me, HONEY.
“Sure,” said Juza. “But y’know, I think there’s a different reason you’re not constantly starting shit with me now.”
“What’s that?”
“You got tired of losing to me all the time. Ain’t that right?”
His words had exactly the effect he had hoped for. Banri’s eyes went wide at the sound of the dreaded L-word, and for a glorious split second, Juza caught a glimpse of seventeen-year-old Banri – the one who’d tried to fight him on the night of the closing performance of Water Me, all those years ago.
He liked twenty-four-year-old Banri a lot more than the previous versions, that was true. But he did miss seventeen-year-old Banri from time to time. After all, that was the Banri with whom he had first fallen in love. You never forget your first love, or so Muku liked to say.
He wondered if Banri ever missed seventeen-year-old Juza. He decided to save that question for a quieter moment. Preferably one where Banri looked less pissed.
“Y’know, it’s still not too late to call this whole thing off,” his husband grumbled, taking a generous sip of wine.
“Like hell,” said Juza, putting an arm around him. “This was your idea, remember?” Before Banri could stop him, he leaned closer and planted a quick kiss on his cheek.
“Well, someone’s had too much wine,” said Itaru, bemused.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” said Azami, face flushed. “You two’d better knock off the PDA, or I’m outta here.”
“It’s okay, Azami!” Sakuya protested. “They’re married now, so they can kiss as much as they want!”
“Just because they can doesn’t mean they should!”
But before the group could get into a philosophical debate on the ethics of post-marital kissing, a voice resounded across the courtyard.
“Thank you for waiting, everyone!” said Izumi brightly. “Could all of you could please proceed to the dance floor?”
Kumon’s eyes lit up. “Oh! Don’t tell me it’s finally time for…!”
Juza’s heart dropped into his stomach with a splash. Wordlessly, he nodded.
Taichi took hold of Banri and Juza’s arms before either could react. Juza just barely managed to hand his wine glass to a beaming Tsumugi – he could’ve sworn Tsumugi whispered something like ‘Good luck’ – before Taichi dragged him and Banri across the grass.
As the three of them weaved past the numerous tables and chairs, he stole a glance at Banri, who looked as cool as a cucumber. He always was good at hiding his nerves before performances. Juza’s gaze wandered from his eyes, their blue waters still and calm, to his nose, ever-so-slightly crooked from when he’d broken it falling off the stage two years ago, to his lips…
As he watched, those lips twisted into an all-too-familiar smirk. “You nervous?”
Juza blinked. “N-No. ‘Course not. Are you?”
“’Course I ain’t. We’ve practiced this how many times?”
“Yeah, but you still screw up the one part every time.”
“Only ‘cause you always get into position half a beat late.”
“I ain’t half a beat late, you’re half a beat early.”
“For the last time-”
“No fighting, you two!” Taichi interrupted. “Break a leg!” With that, he pushed them both towards the center of the dance floor.
Juza cast a glance around the courtyard. Guy and Tasuku, normally the company’s most stoic members, were smiling in anticipation. Citron, meanwhile, was practically jumping up and down with excitement. So was Misumi, who appeared to be trying to convince Masumi to join him in a triangle dance with little success. Homare, equally excited and definitely drunk, opened his mouth to begin reciting a poem before being shushed by Hisoka. As Juza locked eyes with Azuma, the older man lifted his glass in a wordless toast, and beside him, the remaining members of the Spring and Summer Troupes followed suit. Taichi, still beaming, took his place between Azami and Sakyo, and – where was Omi? There – in the corner, he spotted Omi hidden behind his camera. He gave Juza a thumbs-up.
Juza’s feet left the floor once again. He was floating, all the way up to the stars-
But then Banri slipped his hand into his, and Juza was pulled back down to earth.
“Don’t screw up,” his husband whispered.
Juza squeezed his hand. “That’s my line.”
In front of them, Izumi stood at the microphone, as reassuring a presence as ever. “Without further ado: Banri and Juza Hyodo-Settsu-”
“Settsu-Hyodo,” Banri muttered.
“In your dreams,” Juza muttered back.
“-Please grace us with the first dance of the night.” Izumi nodded to the men gathered behind her. Matsukawa laid his fingers upon the piano keys, Tetsuro picked up his drumsticks, and Sakoda readied his double bass.
Banri took Juza’s waist, and Juza placed his hand on Banri’s shoulder. With his other hand, he let his fingers intertwine with his husband’s.
A hush fell over the courtyard, broken by a single voice – Tetsuro’s voice. “One, two, three, four-”
The band began to play, the graceful notes of the piano blending with the gentle plunks of the double bass and the steady heartbeat of the drums.
Banri gripped Juza’s hand just a little bit tighter.
Izumi opened her mouth and began to sing.
And Juza and Banri danced.