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“I got it! Onii-chan, I got the door, stay there! It’s okay! Jeez,” is the muffled yelling that he manages to catch before the front door swings open, revealing a very exasperated yet still cheery Tenma Saki, who perks up at the sight of him. “Ah, Rui-san! Welcome! How was the show?”
“Hello, Saki-kun,” Rui greets, stepping inside. He takes off his shoes as she closes the door behind him, glancing at the living room and kitchen. Tsukasa must be upstairs then. “The show went well. Aoyagi-kun truly is an amazing singer.”
She giggles. “Well, that’s Toya-kun for you. My brother will be happy to hear that! He’s upstairs in his room,” she says.
“Is it alright if I—“ He says, but she quickly waves a hand.
“Of course! He’ll be so happy to see you! He’s been in bed all day sick.” Leading him up the stairs, she knocks on his bedroom door twice before poking her head in. “Onii-chan, guess who it is?!”
He knows she probably stepped in first to announce it to Tsukasa yet Rui can’t help the grin already making its way on his face and steps in after her. “Feeling better, Tsukasa-kun?”
“Rui!” Comes the voice he’s missed so dearly. It’s hoarse and scratchy, and there’s a slight pang in his chest at how truly ill Tsukasa must’ve been these past few days. Well, two days. First the wedding, then rehearsal today. It’d been off with just the three of them, Emu making up for his absence by being extra loud and exuding ‘Wonderhoy-ness’ and Nene glancing around every second as if expecting him to pop out of thin air. Rui only has himself to blame for not checking up on their beloved star earlier. “What are you doing here?!”
Propped up by a couple of pillows, Tsukasa tilts his head in that adorable fashion of his, a bright grin spreading across his face with every step Rui takes. Rui returns the grin, bidding farewell to Saki, who laughs at her brother and closes the door with a soft ‘click’.
It’s not the first time he’s been in Tsukasa’s room, though he’s always taken back by how neat it is, especially considering the fact that he’s sick. He’s not going to comment on his room, it being the organized mess it is, though even Nene and Emu’s rooms aren’t as neat. Only a spare book or two on the ground, otherwise it’s spotless and shining much like the person in question.
“Rui—“ Tsukasa calls again, breaking the silence and leaning forward before doubling over, crying out in pain. Rui’s at his side in an instant. He’s heard enough of Tsukasa’s screams to discern them by heart (as much as Nene informs him that’s not something he should be proud of, but very well). This one’s real pain. He makes a mental note to warn Emu to not tackle him the moment he feels better to go to the Wonder Stage again. “My stomach—“
“Don’t get up,” Rui says. He pushes him back down into bed. Tsukasa has a clip pinning his bangs to one side, pink and probably courtesy of his sister, and Rui internally thanks Saki for all she’s done in this world. Perfect choice. Perhaps he could change Tsukasa’s costume for their next show to have this. He’s also wearing pajamas, the same fish design that he has on his usual blazer printed all over them. Rui sends another prayer of thanks to him and his adorably horrendous (though he can’t be one to say anything) fashion choices. “You’ll feel even worse if you do.”
“Augh, I already feel awful,” Tsukasa mutters, flopping back onto the bed. He doesn’t seem to have noticed Rui’s current worldview being shifted by his new appearance which Rui, again, is grateful for. He shoots up a moment later, taking on his usual attitude. “Ah, my apologies! A sickness like this is no issue for a star—Ow!”
He lays back down in defeat. Rui laughs, though not unkindly, and props himself up so he’s resting against Tsukasa’s bed. At his height, he and Tsukasa are about at eye level, with him still having the advantage.
“Food poisoning, right?” He asks. Tsukasa nods glumly. “Ah, that must’ve been rough.”
“I threw up twice this morning,” he says, wiping some sweat off his forehead. There’s a towel on his desk and Rui offers it to him. He takes it. “Haven’t been able to keep anything down. I haven’t been this sick since Saki was little.” He pauses, glancing at the door. “I haven’t been letting her get too close just in case she’ll catch something,” he admits. “You shouldn’t be this near too, Rui.”
Rui shrugs and waves him off. Even when he was young, he wouldn’t get sick easily. “Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I even ate some vegetables this morning. My immune system will fend your germs off.”
“You—just eating them today won’t do it! You have to eat them every day!” Tsukasa scolds, somehow still managing to chastise him even while ill. That’s his star, alright. “Also, you never answered my question! What are you doing here?”
Rui feigns innocence, placing a hand over his heart and reeling back. “Ouch, Tsukasa-kun! That hurts! Out of the goodness of my heart, why else? Is it such a crime to visit my—our future star when he’s all alone and ill?”
“Yes,” Tsukasa huffs. Realization dawns on his features as he glances at Rui with wide eyes. “The show! How did it go? I heard most of it from Toya, but how was it?!”
“Ah, yes, that.” He’d already given the highlights version to Emu and Nene, who practically demanded it of him after hearing the news from Saki, who must’ve told the former. He indulges Tsukasa anyway, telling him of the problem with the old director, splitting everyone into groups, the show itself, and even how they pulled some people in last-minute. Aoyagi and all of the bride’s potential candidates put on wonderful performances, but he’d be lying if Aoyagi’s singing didn’t soar above the rest.
Tsukasa proudly puffs out his chest at that, eyes shining. He does his signature laugh, smiling. “Toya is an amazing singer! Of course he’d put on a worthy performance in my place!”
That’s half a lie. Rui can recall the day before, Tsukasa’s rushed voice over the phone asking if he could check on him, concern carrying over the call. It’s still present in the way Tsukasa’s shoulders relax at Aoyagi’s mention, and Rui chuckles. Their star is a big brother at heart.
That still doesn’t stop the twinge of jealousy from worming its way into his heart though, and he inches closer to the bed, making sure his face is in full view of Tsukasa. “And me?” He pouts. “Any comments on my performance?”
Tsukasa, as he usually does when Rui pulls these tactics, makes a face. Not a symptom of food poisoning, and Rui grins wider. He tugs at his sleeve. “So? Anything to say, my absentee star?”
“Wha—don’t call me that!” Tsukasa chucks a pillow at him. Dodging it, Rui fluffs it back up and lowers it in time to catch Tsukasa folding his arms across his chest, a soft and wistful look taking over his face. “Thanks for looking after him,” he says, quiet.
Huh. Rui blinks. While he doesn’t know the full history between the two other than what Tsukasa’s given him, everyone’s aware of the fierce protectiveness he holds over his sister and their time at school has only shown how that extends to Aoyagi as well. Aoyagi’s a far cry from the rest of the Tenma siblings, but Rui always catches him smiling either in their presence or with his other friend. Tsukasa claims to hold shows that have everyone smiling, but there’s also that big part of him that does all he can to protect them as well.
Rui can only wait until he pieces that part out for himself, smiling. “Anything for you, Tsukasa-kun.”
With that out of the way, Tsukasa takes on a new vigor, clearing his throat and doing his self-introductory pose, one hand on his chest and the other outstretched. It’s pointed towards Rui, and it takes everything in him to not hold it outright.
(He shoves the thought to the far recesses of his mind immediately. Tsukasa’s the type to have soft hands, now that he thinks about it, always spouting about the importance of a star keeping a good appearance. If he had his gloves and usual stage attire, he could hold it without worrying about how it’d feel. They do it after shows after all, bowing on stage and Rui recalls how easily his fingers slot into his.)
“As for your performance,” Tsukasa says, interrupting the pleasant daydream with one more far within reach, his hand coming to rest on Rui’s shoulder. His assumptions were correct. Tsukasa’s touch is feather-light. “Toya already told me how great you are. And I know it too!” He pats Rui’s head (something he must’ve picked up from KAITO, he muses) as with their positioning, it’s all he can do without getting out of bed. Never mind that it fills his chest with something even lighter. “Directing all of these people last-minute and putting on the greatest wedding yet–that’s my director for you!”
My. His face warms and Rui laughs, rubbing the back of his head. Tsukasa’s right–this proximity to him is making him catch something. My director. He ought to be more careful, saying such things. “O-of course. With such a beautiful day, it would’ve been a waste to not put it to use. Oh, that reminds me. I have a surprise for you.”
“A surprise?!” Tsukasa perks up, but deflates a second later. “Er, it’s nothing too extreme, right?”
He’s not so cruel as to terrify the already indisposed, but Rui has his reputation to uphold so he chuckles. “That’ll be up for you to interpret.” Tsukasa pales. He laughs again, placing a reassuring hand on his. It’s soft. “It’s okay, don’t worry, Tsukasa-kun. This is something I believe you'll quite enjoy.”
“That I’ll enjoy–hey!”
With his other hand, Rui brings out his controller and newest drone, maneuvering it so that it flies circles around Tsukasa’s head. Tsukasa gives an indignant squawk and dodges, pausing only when the drone comes face-to-face with him and stills. Hesitantly, he lays his palm flat out and Rui lands it there. “What’s this?” Tsukasa asks, extending his arm out as if that’ll protect him from whatever random function it might take.
As if. He lets the drone whir to life before putting an end to Tsukasa’s doubts. “A drone. This is one of the first I’ve made specifically for the stage, so we can record our shows from all angles. I’ve had it for a while, but as you’re sick, I decided it’d be the perfect opportunity to show you.”
“Oh! Is it recording right now?” Tsukasa brings it closer to his face, blinking in time with the camera.
“Yes. Although I can stop it if you’d like. This is just a test run, after all.”
“I don’t mind. A star should be prepared for the cameras at any moment!” He laughs and waves at the camera. Suddenly, he brightens and turns to Rui. “Wait! Recording our shows–we could spread them all online! Get even more famous!”
Now he’s catching on. “Precisely. Right now it requires a person controlling it, but I should be able to figure out how to make it function without one soon.”
“If you could do it with NeneRobo, you can do it with this!” He giggles as the drone moves from his hand to perch on his shoulder, then on his head. “Rui!”
“What?” He says, definitely not guilty. It’s not like it matters–Tsukasa’s smiling like his food poisoning is no longer an issue, following the drone as it flies around him.
“You know exactly what you’re doing!”
“Do I?” He hands the controller over to Tsukasa for him to try it out himself. He gets the hang of it quickly, flying it all over his room and even downstairs, up and over the fence. It’s not long until Tsukasa’s completely engrossed in the drone, and Rui would be too if it weren’t for a lively voice carrying out over the buzzing and Tsukasa’s excited cries when he finds something new with his invention.
“Rui-san! Could you come down here for a sec?”
Rui tries to glimpse into the living room from the loft. “Why’s your sister calling me?”
Tsukasa shrugs. “I don’t know. But you can go,” he says, nodding to the door. “I’ll be fine up here alone.”
“Are you sure?” Tsukasa nods, lifting the controller and drone as a reminder. Rui pushes himself up and stretches. “Alright, don’t get out of bed.”
A huff. “I won’t!”
Tsukasa’s house is one of the greatest architectural mysteries of the century. For one, Rui can’t fathom why Tsukasa’s room has three walls (if one can even be considered a wall, windows spanning from ceiling to floor) and a fence railing to complete the loft look. His voice is loud and it’d carry throughout the whole house from that structure. The Tenmas are definitely wealthy enough to afford a room for their oldest son from what Rui can gather, but there lies the possibility of the setup being something Tsukasa wants for himself.
He shakes his head at the ridiculousness of it, drying off his hands after washing them to ensure he won’t be spreading anything. Tsukasa’s room is directly above the kitchen as it turns out, Saki with her back turned to him and a pot on the stove.
“Saki-kun, what did you need me for?”
“Oh, Rui-san!” She turns, an apron tied around her waist and brandishing a wooden spoon like it’s a weapon. Rui instinctively takes a step back. “Sorry!”
“It’s alright.” For a minute, he thought he was about to witness another one of the Tenma siblings overprotectiveness. He supposes the noises he and Tsukasa had been making could’ve come off that way.
Ah. Now his face is warm at the thought of it. Luckily, Saki turns back to whatever she’s making and hums, voice lowered. “I wanted to give my brother a break, that’s all. If you were excited to see him, he was doubly so to see you.”
Rui has to hold back a laugh. Tsukasa does the same, calling for breaks during rehearsal whenever he notices Nene’s voice straining or Emu’s arms getting sore. Both of them think they’re being clever, but it’s still clear as day.
“Also,” Saki says, swinging around and actually pointing the spoon at him, “I’ve never had the chance to talk to you properly!”
“Really? Haven’t we met plenty?” Saki and her friends often come to watch their shows and he’ll occasionally see her around the park from Tsukasa giving her the complimentary tickets they receive from work. How odd.
“I know! My brother’s super protective of me,” she says, though it’s not a complaint as people with siblings normally do. She’s smiling, and she pulls out a cutting board. “Want to help?”
“What are you making?”
“Soup!” She says happily, bringing out an array of vegetables. Rui grimaces, but she doesn’t notice. “It’s the only thing he and I eat when we’re sick.”
“Is it a family recipe?”
“Yup! My mom made it. Though my brother is much better at cooking than me,” she admits. She grabs an apron off the wall and hands it to him. “This one’s his. He won’t mind.”
Rui makes a noise of agreement, tying the apron around his waist. “Then I should warn you Saki-kun, I’m not exactly a chef. There’s no telling if your kitchen will still be standing once I’m through.”
“Huh? Oh, me too!” Saki grins, eyes closing slightly as she clasps her hands. Similar to how Tsukasa does it. Truly siblings through and through. “I didn’t get to do much when I was in the hospital, so it’s only recently that I’ve learned. Can you dice the carrots?”
Seeing as he’s not the one eating them, he does. Saki does enough talking for the two of them (‘How’d you and my brother meet?’ ‘How are your shows?’ ‘Do you really make all these robots?’ ‘How do they work?’), and he answers her patiently. He’s always wondered what it’d be like to have younger siblings and Nene was his closest bet, though she wasn’t nearly as friendly as her.
When all ingredients are tossed in and the soup can actually be called one, Saki hums. “You know, I really ought to thank you, Rui-san.”
Rui sets the bowls down and leans against the counter. “What for?”
It takes a second for Saki to respond, idly stirring the soup. At first, he’s worried she may have zoned out entirely but she knocks the spoon against the edge of the pot. “My brother didn’t let himself have many friends growing up because he was worried I’d feel left out,” Saki says. Even with her back to him, Rui can see her somber expression reflected in the soup. “But now I’m doing better, and I was worried that he still wouldn’t have any.”
Rui blinks. He’s grateful he leaned against the counter, as he plays off the surprise by adjusting his position. Tsukasa? Not many friends? Even at school, as much as his poses and attitude stand out among the people in their year, their classmates do like him. At the very least, tolerate him nicely.
Saki’s not finished, however. “But then he met you guys, and you make all your shows together, and he’s never been happier.” She pours some soup into a bowl and offers it to him. “I know he can be a bit…much sometimes, but he means well. Thanks for going along with all his crazy ideas. He’s lucky to have you all!”
She says it all in one breath, voice hushed so as to not disturb Tsukasa above. Come to think of it, Rui hasn’t heard a peep since he came downstairs, not even the buzzing of his drone. It’s unlikely for him to be so quiet, but what’s more are Saki’s words, such a strange contrast to their leader’s usual persona that they know and love. Tsukasa hardly ever talks about his childhood unless it’s in relation to her, and what she’s said has shone a light on a new part of the stage that he performs on.
Rui, naturally, can’t say anything about that—he doubts he’d convey the right sentiment to her, having just been properly acquainted—as it’s a conversation best held with the person himself, so he nods and takes the bowl from her. Warmth floods his hands. “One correction, Saki-kun,” he says, raising a finger. “It’s my crazy ideas that your dear brother goes along with.” And if anything, he’s lucky to have Tsukasa in the first place. “But thank you as well. He speaks of you often. He’s truly lucky to have such a caring little sister.”
Saki giggles, solemn mood dissipated. “Now, you can bring that to him.” She hands him a spoon and gives him another bowl. “This one’s for you. He said you don’t like veggies so I only put in a little.”
“Thank you,” he says, oddly touched. Tsukasa talked about him? To her? Considering the way he talks about Saki and Aoyagi to everyone, it’s not so far fetched for him to do the same with their troupe members after all. But him? “We’ll be upstairs then.”
Two knocks on the door. Rui pauses, the silence stretching on. He copies the knocking jingle Emu does. Not a sound. The door creaks open as he enters. “Tsukasa-kun, I’m back—oh.”
Nestled upon the sheets, Tsukasa is fast asleep. The sunset peeks through the curtains, bathing him in golden hues. He’s still holding the controller for the drone in one hand while the drone itself lays at the foot of the bed. Aside from that, he paints a perfect picture of Sleeping Beauty, pulled right out of fairy tales. Rui smiles, setting the bowls on his desk and taking his inventions aside, resuming his spot of being seated alongside him. “Tsukasa-kun,” he tries again, gently shaking him awake. He’s so peaceful like this. “Tsukasa-kun?”
Nothing. The clip Saki put in is slipping. Rui fixes it, brushing Tsukasa’s bangs back. He runs a hand through the rest of Tsukasa's hair and tries it, one last time. “Tsukasa-kun,” he whispers.
Tsukasa stirs, leaning right into Rui’s touch. As if sensing the absence of what he was holding, his hand comes to rest on Rui’s arm, fingers curling around his wrist.
Rui’s brain does the only thing it can do in this situation.
It short circuits.
Faintly, as the rest of his neural connections try to rewire themselves into some sort of comprehensible order, he registers that Tsukasa’s eyes are slowly blinking open, meeting Rui’s gaze as he settles on keeping them open. His smile is half buried by the pillow and muddled with sleep, but it’s shining nonetheless.
“Rui,” he says, voice bleary. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” He yawns. His hand is still on Rui’s wrist. Rui has not moved. He doesn’t think he’s breathed since then if he’s being honest. “I hope I wasn’t out too long.”
Tsukasa’s hand is moving now, going up to where Rui’s hand is resting in his hair, running his fingers over his palm. He has the words to tell him, the moves to pull away, but Rui’s voice is caught in his throat and his limbs have all frozen. The pads of Tsukasa’s fingers are tracing the spaces between his.
He breathes. Tsukasa does too.
“Did—did you and Saki make soup?”
The words ‘soup’ and ‘Saki’ reboot his mind entirely and Rui jolts, getting up immediately and folding his hands behind his back. “Y-Yes, yes we did. Think you’ll be able to stomach it? If not, I’ll ask her if we can make something else.”
Tsukasa shakes his head, outstretching the hand that cradled Rui’s a second ago. “No, I’ll have it. Thank you.”
He’s careful not to drip any on his clothes and bed when he takes it from him, opting for small sips with his spoon. With the wincing very few seconds when his stomach must cramp up, Rui pauses in his own sips and offers a hand, to which Tsukasa stares blankly.
“You keep moving,” he explains, inching closer. Maybe it’s the steam from the soup or the warmth of Tsukasa’s body because every time he does get closer, he can feel his face heating up. “How about I feed you?”
The result is immediate. Tsukasa freezes, then scoots back to the other end of his bed, back hitting his window. Rui laughs as Tsukasa frantically shakes his head, waving his arms out in front of him. “Wait wait wait! That’s too much! I’m not feeling that bad!”
Probably now he isn’t, now that Rui’s got him distracted. “But shouldn’t a star take every moment of rest in order to reach their full potential?” Rui pouts, poking and prodding further.
“Stop using my words against me!”
“I thought you loved it when people quoted your words of wisdom?”
“Not like that!”
He laughs again, and it’s not long until the corners of Tsukasa’s mouth turn up as he slowly inches back to his original spot on the bed, feeling better to dangle his legs off the edge and eat with Rui. The soup is warm with a touch of pleasant saltiness, that homey feeling perfect for a sick food. The vegetables are chopped unevenly and Tsukasa notices the ones in Rui’s soup, practically demanding him to eat them all. Saki may have spared him from the full force of it, their taste subdued by the broth, but it’s at the cost of a now soft and unpleasant texture. It’s worth it though, to see Tsukasa pleased.
“It’s getting late, “ Tsukasa says, when the soup is finished and the last rays of sunlight are disappearing upon the horizon.
Rui glances at the clock. “Oh, you’re right. I suppose I should get going now.”
“I’ll walk you to the door—“
“No,” he says firmly. Tsukasa practically wilts in his bed. “Tsukasa-kun.”
“I’ve been a terrible host to you all day! This is the least I can do!” Before Rui can remind him that he is in fact, sick, and he’s already done quite enough by allowing his company in the first place, Tsukasa huffs. “It’s just the front door! I can make it there!”
“If I do recall, Saki-kun said you made it there and then collapsed.”
“Yesterday! That won’t happen this time! Rui!” He grabs the front of Rui’s shirt while remaining in bed and Rui sighs.
“I’ll be quick then. You need to get back into bed after or you’ll worry her.” And me goes unsaid, though it gives Tsukasa a newfound determination as he nods and throws the blankets off him.
“Yes! A star never goes back on their word!” And with that, he’s grabbing Rui’s wrist and dragging them out of his bedroom.
It’s halfway down the stairs when Tsukasa tenses, one arm clutching at his side. “I’m fine,” he mutters, smiling weakly.
Clearly not. He shouldn’t be moving this much after eating with stomach cramps, and Rui opens his mouth to tell him such but Tsukasa keeps going, reaching the bottom of the steps before him. He flashes him a triumphant grin, and Rui knows that even if he did protest, it would’ve fallen on deaf ears.
“Huh? The sound? Oh, I’ll check—'' Saki peeks her head around the corner, phone in one hand. She nearly drops it upon sight of them. “Onii-chan?! You’re supposed to be in bed!”
“He’s just showing me to the door,” Rui explains, and she turns her head to him. She gives him an equally surprised look at how he allowed it but then relaxes.
“Alright. Goodnight, Rui-san! Thanks for stopping by!” She flashes a look to her brother that Rui can’t catch, but it leaves Tsukasa sputtering (“Saki!“) and his face flushing with her giggling behind a hand. “You’re free to come back anytime!” She adds, disappearing back into the house.
Rui glances to Tsukasa, but he’s already composed himself and opens the front door, the cool evening air drifting in. Oh well. Perhaps he’ll ask him another time. “Goodnight, Tsukasa-kun,” he says, giving a small bow like they do at the end of their shows. Tsukasa chuckles and does the same, adding a bit more flair, because that’s just who he is, giving Rui and everyone 12000%, every time.
“Goodnight!”
He turns to leave but a hand tugs at his sleeve and there’s Tsukasa, one socked foot out on their walkway. The look on Tsukasa’s face is equally confused but when Rui catches his gaze, he seems to remember. “Rui,” he says, voice low in the same way he thanked him for Aoyagi earlier. Only this time, Rui doesn’t think it’s got anything to do with that, and waits with bated breath. “Saki’s right. Thanks. I’m glad you came.”
There’s definitely more to it, but Rui can’t bring himself to comment on it, all of his well-rehearsed teases and deflections dying in his throat. Their situation is quite ridiculous—it’s cold out, Tsukasa’s still in his pajamas, biting down a grimace from his stomach— but Tsukasa is still smiling like Rui’s all he needs to feel okay.
One correction, the words he said to Saki echo back in his mind. He’s the one glad that he came. But for now, he lets the night carry those thoughts to the wind.
“Of course, I’d be a terrible excuse of a director if I didn't.” He gives a lazy wave back. “Get some rest, Tsukasa-kun.”
The next day at school, there’s something waiting for Rui on his desk. His classmates clear the way as he picks up a thermos (still hot) with a cartoonish design on it, a sticky note stuck to the back.
Thanks for yesterday! I’m much better now. See you at lunch!
It’s not signed, but it doesn’t need to be. Unscrewing the lid, he’s greeted by the same comforting aroma from the day prior. There’s not much vegetables, but still enough for the proper nutrition he knows he’s going to be chastised for later.
Rui sets it down and covers his face with his hands. It’s warm.