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“Alright everyone, that was a great show tonight! You guys were really giving it your all!” Izumi cheers as the members of the Autumn troupe make their way back to the dressing room. “I could feel the energy all the way from the back of the theater!”
“There’s just something about this show that brings out everyone’s competitive side,” Omi chuckles, taking off his cap and wiping at the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand.
Of course there was. Picaresque was essentially written based off of Juza and Banri’s mile long competitive streak, so it’s no surprise that their energy feeds into everyone else whenever they perform it. It’s a show full of memories that are different for all of them; some bitter, some wonderful. They all found something of their own on that stage, during their initial run, and those feelings still come boiling to the surface whenever they pull the script out of storage.
“And the atmosphere was better than ever before with our new backstage crew,” Banri adds. There are several enthusiastic nods of agreement, with a single nod from Juza.
With the additions of Akashi and Rento to the team, the background improvements compared to their past two revivals were quite stark.
The action had always been good, of course, but the updated sound effects for their punches and kicks made more of an impact, to say nothing of how much better the gunshots sounded. They were a lot more varied and versatile than before, not just the same two or three canned sounds played over and over. And compared to the people they fought, Luciano and Lansky’s gunshots had their own distinct sounds to make it easier to keep track of who was shooting when and they breathed new life into the many volleys of gunfire exchanged throughout the show.
And the lighting helped set the tone more than ever before; harsh, almost sterile lighting for the hospital scenes. The occasional flashes of red that permeated the climax of some of their fights to add a little extra oomph. The neutral lighting of Capone’s office growing more harsh during Luciano’s interrogation. And a lot of other little things that added to the mood far more than their old lighting setup had.
“And this was only opening night! We get to see and hear it all again five more times before we close!” Taichi grins wide as he slides his ‘sickly brother’ sweater off of his shoulders and folds it carefully over his arms.
“Better step up your game before the end, old man,” Azami smirks over at Sakyo. “Pretty sure everybody else beat you tonight.”
“Like you’re one to talk, brat,” Sakyo snaps, taking his hat off and setting the cane in its proper holder. “I’m all warmed up after tonight, so the rest of you better not slack off or I’ll be biting your heels off.”
“So scary,” Banri snorts, rolling his eyes. “No matter how much you bring to the table there ain’t no way you’ll outperform me.” Like hell. Not for this show.
Picaresque meant different things to all of them. But over the last three years, over the course of the initial run and the two revivals prior to this one, Banri’s come to treasure it more than any other play he’s performed. Luciano was his first and only lead role so far. It’s also the only role Banri’s ever played that even Kumon compliments his performance and character after almost every show, no matter how reluctantly. Picaresque was the show that changed his life for the better, that showed him just what hard work and effort could actually achieve and how great it felt to stand on this stage with some of the people most important to him now.
Not that he’d ever admit that to a single one of them.
Especially not Hyodo Juza, who’s the reason he ever learned what standing on stage could feel like. The guy whose acting sucks him in unlike anyone else’s, regardless of their skill or talent. Theater wasn’t the only thing that changed Banri’s life.
“Whoa, Banchan, somebody brought you flowers! I’m so jealous!” Taichi’s exclamation snaps Banri out of his thoughts. He glances over to where there’s usually a stack of gifts and letters waiting on the table in front of his seat at the long mirror that stretches the length of the dressing room, and sure enough a bouquet wrapped in purple tissue paper that hadn’t been sitting there when the show started rests in front of a handful of letters.
“Huh…Don’t get ‘em too often,” Banri muses as he crosses the room and picks them up to get a better look.. It’s not a large bouquet, but the shades of blue, of the forget-me-nots that are the star of the bouquet tucked in between sprigs of baby’s breath and a few white and pink cosmos, are surprisingly pretty. It’s not common to see outside of a filler flower, from what little Banri knows about them.
He turns it over a few times, checking to see if there’s some kind of card attached as there usually is, and there’s a small slip of paper tucked between a few of the blooms. Banri gingerly plucks it out, and there’s a short, simple message typed onto it rather than handwritten.
Thank you for everything.
And that’s it. Banri frowns as he flips it over, but the back of the card is blank. No name, no contact information, no context. Who sent these? What are they thanking him for?
“Ohhhh, forget-me-nots! That’s so romantic,” Taichi sighs wistfully. “Who are they from?”
“No clue,” Banri shrugs as he turns his gaze toward the redhead. “And romantic? Why?” He’s never bothered learning much about flower language; no reason to, since there was never anybody he wanted to give them to. Well, for the most part, but he’d drop dead before he knowingly gave that person a bouquet of all things. “The name implies ‘I won’t forget you’, right?”
“Yeah! But there’s more to it than that,” Taichi sits down at his own spot in front of the mirror and reaches for a water bottle. “There’s a bunch of stuff, honestly! But they’re definitely flowers that symbolize true love… And that they’re always thinking about you, and will always remember you and the love they feel! I think there’s some stuff about loyalty and devotion, too, but I don’t remember all the details.”
“Why do you know this stuff in the first place, Taichi-san?” Azami asks, already starting to change out of his costume.
“I figured it wouldn’t hurt to know about it if I ever got around to asking anybody out, so I did a bunch of research back in high school! Don’t wanna give a girl the wrong flowers, right?” Not that it seems to have helped that situation at all. “You should ask Tsumugi-san about it, though. He’s the real expert!”
Banri nods, but he’s only half paying attention as his gaze drifts between the bouquet and the card. Did the person who sent these know all that stuff, too? Is that why there are so many forget-me-nots, and no bigger or more eye-catching flowers like roses or lilies?
“Doesn’t really matter what they mean if I don’t even know who sent ‘em though, right?” Banri shrugs as he sits down, setting the flowers back on the table before scooping up the fan letters just in case one of them was meant to go with the bouquet. With a quick scan (he’ll read them properly once he was out of costume and back in his room for the evening) none of them appeared to be so.
“Aww, don’t be like that, Banchan! Someone put a lot of thought and feeling into that!” Taichi pouts. “I wish somebody would do that for me!”
“I’m sure it’ll happen someday,” Omi comforts him with a pat to his shoulder before he, like Azami, sets about taking off his costume.
“Sending flowers to somebody’s gotta be embarrassing as hell,” Azami mutters under his breath as he makes sure his suit is hung up nicely and without any creases before stepping into his regular pants. “‘Specially if they’re thanking you for something. Makes sense they wouldn’t wanna include their name.”
But then what was the point if Banri didn’t know what they were thanking him for? He’s gotten fan letters thanking him, and even though many signed with a pen name or didn’t sign at all, it touched Banri’s heart to know that he could help people by doing his damndest on stage.
“And don’t you think it’s odd that the card is typed, rather than hand written?” Sakyo asks as he hangs up his hat and scarf. “There was no logo on that card, so it’s probably not from the flower shop unless they completely ran out.” The message was a little specific, too, for something pre-printed. It wasn’t just a simple thank you, it was a thank you for everything.
“Oh! Do you think they printed it out because they were worried you might recognize the handwriting!?” Taichi exclaimed, swiveling in his chair back toward Banri with a sparkle in his eyes. “Maybe it’s from somebody you know!”
That makes even less sense to Banri. Who the hell does he know that would go through the trouble or effort to give him thank you flowers? That supposedly symbolize love and loyalty and that they’ll never forget him of all things? He’s got no clue.
“Doubt it.” It won’t do him any good to worry about it now. He sighs as he slips off his gloves and hat, setting them down next to the bouquet as he grabs a bottle and applicator and begins the slow process of removing his makeup.
“Having a secret admirer sounds so cool,” Taichi sighs dreamily as he turns back to the mirror to continue scrubbing his own makeup off as well.
“Sounds like a pain,” Azami says as he drops into his own seat fully dressed once more.
The door to the dressing room opens and closes and Banri glances over to see if someone was coming in to see them, but there’s nobody there. It’s then that he realizes his annoying roommate’s been awfully quiet through this whole conversation, and when he turns to Juza’s seat it’s empty and his costume is hanging neatly where it should be.
It’s a little annoying, honestly. Usually he and Juza talk a bit about the performance afterward, Banri picking at the things he needed to fix or change by tomorrow’s show and vice versa, and occasionally figuring out things to try or noting ad libs that went well that night. It was always kind of fun, and it sometimes gave Banri a little insight into Juza’s methods. Not that he cares all that much or anything.
Juza’s too busy for him tonight, for some reason. Maybe he was going to spend some time with his Mom and the rest, since she was supposed to be here tonight? Meh, it’s whatever. They’ll have time to talk afterward, or in the morning.
When they head back to the dorms, Banri sets up the bouquet in a vase that he decides to keep on the coffee table in his room for the time being, so the flowers won’t get in the way of the TV screen if he sets them on his desk.
When Juza eventually comes back he spares them a passing glance before getting ready for bed. They joke about some of the banter they changed up a little this time around and then they argue a little about the ad libs they did during the scene where Lansky breaks Luciano out until Sakyo hammers on their door to shut up, and they glare at each other before settling into their respective bunks. Things feel better after that, and Banri quickly forgets about the flowers by the time he falls asleep.
—-----
The flowers are only the first of several gifts Banri receives from his secret admirer over the course of their show run. And with each passing gift, he has the feeling that Taichi might be right in that he probably knows whoever is sending them to him. Or at the very least, they know someone who knows him. He doesn’t think it’s common knowledge what kinds of treats he likes, especially when one of them is a favorite from a very specific cafe he likes to frequent with Tsumugi.
Of all the people he knows, only one’s been acting strangely since this all started, too. One Hyodo Juza, who never has anything to say about these gifts, who speeds out of the dressing room at the end of the night faster than he’s ever done, and for an actor, he gets far too awkward whenever he or Taichi brings it up to him.
It’s hard to reconcile, because Banri doesn’t understand just what Juza’s goal with this whole thing is. Banri had denied the gifts could be from his rival at first because of course they weren’t from him. But he knows it’s not Tsumugi, and there’s only one other person who seems to talk at length with the guy about the cafes they go to and talk about orders who’s been acting weird since this started. Plus, that makes the vague, typed cards make more sense. He’d recognize Juza’s handwriting in a heartbeat.
But what does it mean? The daikon’s never done anything like this before. And every time Banri sets foot in their room, he can’t help but stare at those forget-me-nots. Did Juza know what they meant? Had Tsumugi helped him with that, too?
Thank you for everything.
“The actor Hyodo Juza needs the actor Settsu Banri.”
It’s impossible to forget the conversation he’d seen Juza have with this family when he wasn’t around. How he had bowed and practically begged his mother to let Banri stay with the company, when he hadn’t said much at all about the situation beforehand. Banri had thought that, perhaps, he had been reading a little too much into the whole thing since nothing changed after that.
So what was all this ‘love and loyalty’ stuff now, where he was still afraid to address Banri directly? Is he just shy, or is there some other reason the guy’s being so roundabout with him? Banri’s known for a while now how he feels about Juza. It had been a long, agonizing journey that had taken two years too long, but he’d gotten there. And maybe he couldn’t talk about being roundabout, because he hadn’t gotten any closer to figuring out what he wanted to do about these feelings now that he knew.
Juza apparently had no desire to tell him anything, either. Were the gifts some kind of shitty joke because he’d figured it out and was messing with him, and that’s why he’s been avoiding talking about them? …No, Juza wouldn’t do something that cruel. If he had a problem with Banri he’d say it to his face. Did he think Banri wouldn’t figure out it was him, and give him these little peace offerings from afar? Much more likely.
Well two can play at that game. And unlike Juza, Banri wasn’t gonna be a coward about it. He would just need to consult Tsumugi before closing night and get everything in order.
—--
“Whoa! Your secret admirer really stepped it up today, huh? Must be because it was closing night?” Taichi crows as they all file into the dressing room after their final meet and greet in the lobby after the show.
As expected, there’s a large bouquet sitting in front of Banri’s seat; it’s not from his secret admirer, though. As a matter of fact, that ‘admirer’ looks almost alarmed to see it sitting there.
“It’s not, actually,” Banri hums as he steps over with a bit of pep in his step as he picks it up and glances down at it. It’s not the flashiest bouquet, and definitely not the flowers he would have picked on his own. Tsumugi had been pretty clear about some of the symbolism, though, and this was the most he was comfortable with right now. Tulips, dozens of reds and purples and variegated fill out the majority of the bouquet; it’s much more full than the one he’d received. “I ordered these.”
“And what could you possibly need them for?” Sakyo scoffs. “Another ego boost?”
“Nobody asked you, ya geezer,” Banri spits, and the two lock glares for a moment.
“Are they for the director for a job well done?” Omi questions, and Banri swears he sees Juza’s face fade a shade lighter as he pulls down the brim of his hat and looks away.
“Not this time.” Though maybe the six of them should pull together and get her something nice after their next show.
Before anyone else can ask any other questions that’ll give his stupid roommate the wrong idea, he closes the gap between them in four strides that are much more confident than he feels. He’s grateful he’s still in costume because it helps a little. He shoves the bouquet against Juza’s chest which startles him so bad he stares at Banri like a deer caught in the headlights of a speeding vehicle for a few seconds before he finally remembers how his arms work and they wrap around the bouquet so Banri can pull his hand back. “They’re for my idiot co-lead.”
“Wh-” Juza’s mouth opens and closes uselessly as he glances down at the flowers in his arms then back to Banri a few times. Rather than pale, his cheeks have quickly flushed a dusky red and it’s so cute Banri wishes he’d done this sooner.
“A-Are you propositioning Juza-san? R-Right in front of the rest of us!?” Azami’s voice cracks before all hell breaks loose.
“Obviously not,” Sakyo snaps, but there’s much less bite in it than usual. He’s too surprised by the ordeal to react too strongly to that.
“B-B-Banchan, I didn’t know you were so forward!” Taichi sounds far too impressed for a misunderstanding. Omi just smiles knowingly and that’s almost worse than if he’d actually said something.
“I ain’t that forward, there’s no propositioning goin’ on here!” Banri snaps, shooting a look to the guys over his shoulder before wheeling around to face Juza again, the flush spreading all the way to the tips of his rival’s ears now. “But you weren’t slick at all, daikon. Wasn’t too hard to figure out who my ‘secret admirer’ was with how sloppy ya were.”
That seems to screw Juza’s head back into place as he frowns, though it does little to change his blushing.
“So, what, you had to try ‘n show me up? How petty are ya, Settsu?” The tissue paper wrapped around the bouquet crinkles as Juza’s hands tighten around it. “There’re less assholeish ways of turnin’ a guy down.”
“And who said I was doin’ that?” Banri rolls his eyes. Juza’s widen as Banri hears a gasp from behind them and does his best to ignore it. This isn’t something he wanted to do in front of an audience exactly, but Juza had left him little choice. “You got any idea what those flowers mean?”
“...No,” Juza mumbles as he glances back down at them.
And, as if on cue, Taichi pipes up behind them once more. Thank God, because Banri really didn’t want to say it out loud himself. “For real, Banchan!?”
“What’s it mean?” Juza asks like he’s afraid to find out. Banri’s heartbeat begins speeding up as he waits for the reveal.
“The different colors mean different things!” Taichi says. “Purple for admiration, the multicolored ones are a-admissions of a crush, and red is love! Like, not just love, but Love love!” Hearing it all out loud made Banri want to sink into the floor and never come back out, especially with the quiet muttering between the others he could hear behind him now. And Taichi only got most of it; Tsumugi had told him the variegated tulips could mean that someone has beautiful eyes, too, and he’s kind of relieved he didn’t say anything about that.
Banri is sweating up a storm in his costume now, his body feeling like it was lit with a match, but he wasn’t gonna be a coward. He’d own up to it. And so, he forces his gaze back up to Juza’s face, and he can practically see the steam pouring out of his ears he’s so red.
“‘S-’S that true…?” He mutters softly, eyes meeting Banri’s much more hesitantly. His face is hard to read, but how he’s feeling is clear in those striking, golden eyes. Embarrassment, nervousness, fear. But maybe a little hope, too.
“Not in so many words but I guess so,” Banri mutters back. He nearly leaps out of his shoes and Juza almost fumbles the bouquet when they hear the door slam behind them, and it’s with a great relief that Banri finds the dressing room is now empty. For once, he’s grateful for Sakyo and Omi likely taking pity on them and dragging the other two outside. “Figured it was obvious by now, daikon, so I dunno why you tried to take this shitty roundabout.”
“Shut up, foxface.” Juza huffs, but there’s no bite to it. “I’ve never been good at knowin’ how other people feel. Didn’t wanna be wrong and embarrass myself or fuck anything up, so.”
“So what, you were never gonna say anything?” So much for what he told his mother. “Guess that’s what makes you a daikon. Always gotta leave everything up to me.”
“Sometimes I wonder why the hell I had to fall for a guy like you,” Juza grumbles, but like before, there’s no bite to it. Even though he’s not smiling there’s almost a fondness in his low voice that makes Banri’s heart skip a beat as he takes a step forward.
“You think I don’t wonder the same thing every day?”
He used to, at least. But there was never anyone else it could be. No one else had been able to knock him out of his dull, empty, colorless life and show him just how bright the world could be.
Juza carefully sets the bouquet down as Banri closes the rest of the distance between them and sets a hand on his shoulder. When Juza looks back to him, their noses are almost touching. He grabs hold of the jacket hanging off of Banri’s shoulders and with little fanfare Banri closes the remainder of that small gap and kisses him.
It’s short, chaste, and Juza’s lips are chapped and dry after their performance, but it’s perfect. They share several more of these small, soft kisses, and each is as lovely as the last. Banri wants to deepen them, wants to tear off his gloves and feel what the short hairs of Juza’s undercut feel like, but he dares not risk it with the knowledge the rest of the troupe were likely hovering outside the room like vultures waiting to descend. You’d think they just spent five minutes making out with the way they both breathe once they part.
“I should be the one thankin’ you, y’know,” Banri mumbles in the small space between them. “I never knew life could be like this.”
“Neither did I,” Juza whispers back, pressing another brief kiss to Banri’s lips. “So I guess we’re even.”
“Doesn’t mean I’ve lost, though,” Banri reminds him. “I ain’t ever gonna let you win, either. No matter what else I feel that won’t change.”
“Took the words right outta my mouth,” Juza chuckles softly and Banri’s hand tightens on his shoulder. Fuck, he’s more gone than he thought. “I won’t ever lose to you, Settsu. Not for the rest of my life.”
“We’ll see about that.”
The rest of his life, huh? The thought of Juza being there, always pushing him from a step behind, or pulling him from a step ahead, was nice. Almost as nice as the thought of them side by side, never letting go as they walked steadily into the future.
He could get used to that.