Chapter Text
“So, Ritsu-chan?”
Ritsu stirs the cup of tea in front of him, watching the dregs swirl around the amber liquid. By this point, it’s long gone lukewarm — Ritsu’s torn between not wanting to waste the tea and hating how it tastes when it isn’t fresh.
It took Arashi long enough for Ritsu’s tea to go lukewarm to explain the predicament her — and the theater company she joined somewhat recently — are currently in. “You’re asking a lot of me, you know?” Ritsu says. He picks up the tea and takes a sip — it’s a little gross because of the temperature, but the blend isn’t half bad. He far preferred when it was hot, though. “I’m not even an actor.”
“Well, I know that,” Arashi says, a cute little frown on her face. “But most of the people in Dramatica aren’t, either! Besides, if it’s between you or Leo-kun, I think we all know who’s better suited to play the role.”
Ritsu scrunches his nose up. “Did you have to ask me to replace my brother , though?” he says, with no small amount of distaste. “I’ve told you, I don’t want to be associated with that thing…”
“You’re the only one we could think of that’s talented enough to be able to fill in on such a short notice,” Arashi says. “You should be flattered!”
Ritsu doesn’t respond to that, just making a face and taking another sip of his tea.
Arashi checks the time on her phone, letting out a soft sigh. “I have to leave, but — let me know, okay? Even if you just want to watch a rehearsal to see what you’re working with.” She stands from the table, poised and graceful as always, and blows Ritsu a kiss as she leaves the cafe.
Ritsu takes another sip of his lukewarm tea and thinks about it.
-
Ritsu always thinks best when he’s playing the piano.
Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata . His go to, a piece easy enough that he can let his mind wander but not so easy he gets bored. He sits at the grand piano, the only piece of furniture in this lounge not covered with a fine layer of dust, lets his fingers fly across the keys, and thinks.
Arashi had explained the situation simply enough. Rei’s band, and the live house owned by one of the members that they often perform in, were under an unexpected simultaneous business and entertainment attack. Rei had also made it clear to at the start of the casting process Wataru that Dramatica was recreation for him — while he hadn’t expected circumstances like these to occur, Wataru had known ahead of time that if Rei had to choose between Undead and the live house or the play, he would choose Undead every time.
Unfortunately, since the script writers for the play knew of Rei’s musical prowess, they’d written a lot — and Arashi had emphasized, a lot — of piano playing into the script. So any replacement actor for Rei would have to be good at piano — if not as good as Rei, then at least as good to play any of Leo’s compositions. (Ritsu’s had a lot of fun with Leo’s distinctive compositions in the past. Which is exactly how he knows they’re definitely going to be a challenge.)
And since Arashi and Leo are both part of the theater company, and Rei has never proven himself to be capable of shutting up about Ritsu whenever he’s given the chance, Ritsu was scouted as the best person to fill in for Rei. Yippee.
(It isn’t that Ritsu isn’t flattered or excited about it. He loves piano, and while acting isn’t his strongest suit, he’s been told he’s quite good at it. But he’s tasted a world outside of his brother’s shadow — and it’s always hard to go back.)
Still, there’s a few reasons Ritsu considers taking it. The first is that he’s bored — it’s summer, which means he’s taking less jobs. Which is definitely the smart thing to do, considering his health, but Ritsu ends up stuck inside the house most days, and with Rei gone or working and his parents also gone or working, he’s a bit lonely. Maybe. The second is that it’s really been too long since he’s gotten to play anything of Leo’s — he’s been busy with this troupe, plus his compositions have been slowly selling and performing well on more and more stages, which means Ritsu hasn’t been able to bug him for a new piece in a while.
The third reason, and the one Ritsu probably won’t admit to even if asked directly about it — Arashi had said the lead actress for the play was “probably your type, Ritsu-chan, she’s a real cutie!” and he’s a little curious about it. Just a little.
His fingers still on the keys of the piano, and he pulls out his phone and sends Arashi a text. whens ur next rehearsal
Arashi responds almost immediately, sending him a date, time, and location. She follows it up with a Cant wait to see you !! xx
Ritsu thinks it’d be wrong to say he’s excited. But curiosity was powerful enough to kill the cat — maybe that singular pull is strong enough, for now.
-
When Ritsu steps into the theater, fifteen minutes late, they’re running a scene.
They either didn’t notice him walk in or are choosing to not stop the scene, so Ritsu slides into one of the seats near the door and watches. Arashi isn’t on the stage, and neither is Leo — they probably would have stopped the scene immediately to greet Ritsu if they noticed him — but Ritsu recognizes Wataru easily enough. There are two other people he doesn’t recognize, too — a smaller girl with shoulder length, light brown hair and someone with long, dark hair and a striking, severe expression.
Ritsu didn’t get a script or anything from Arashi, so he has no idea what’s happening on the stage. A bit of a closer look tells him Wataru is probably just supervising this scene — why they chose to stand on the stage to watch it instead of sit in the audience is beyond Ritsu, but the look on their face is too analytical to be any actual acting.
“Haruka-san…?” the smaller girl says. They’re both sitting on chairs, holding acoustic guitars. ‘Haruka’ is frozen over hers, fingers shaking as they hover above the strings. The other girl reaches a hand out, brushing against ‘Haruka’s’ shoulder, and that vacant gaze snaps up to meet hers. Even from all the way in the back of the audience, Ritsu can see a suffocating kind of horror take over her face.
“I can’t play,” ‘Haruka’ whispers. The hand pressing against the guitar’s neck tightens, until her knuckles are white. “Why can’t I play?”
The smaller girl looks bewildered, unequipped to answer whatever question it is that’s really being asked of her. “So our lesson…?”
‘Haruka’ doesn’t say anything, the silence hanging as it slowly grows thicker and thicker. She stands, abruptly, both hands grabbing the guitar by its neck, and screams, “Why can’t I play?!”
She lifts the guitar in the air, and Ritsu leans forward in his seat, enraptured with a sick kind of fascination at the scene playing out before him. The anguish on ‘Haruka’s’ face, the white-knuckled grip around the neck of the guitar, the fear on the face of the other girl — the entire theater narrows down until it’s just them and Ritsu, them and the breath Ritsu finds himself holding—
A loud set of claps cuts through the deafening silence, and the two actors on the stage still. Ritsu falls back into his seat with a huff of breath, heart pounding ever-so-slightly faster in his chest.
“Wonderful work, Hokuto-kun!” Wataru says, a wide smile on their face as they applaud. “Room for improvement, as there always is, but that scene is coming along quite nicely, yes!”
‘Haruka’ — Hokuto — sets the guitar down carefully on the chair behind her. “Am I really going to be smashing that guitar on show night?”
“Yes, yes!” Wataru says, a note of excitement entering their voice. “Why, it’ll be so visceral, to truly destroy such a wonderful piece of artistry during Haruka’s weakest moment… amazing!”
Hokuto frowns. “I hate to damage such a beautiful instrument, though.”
“And that is precisely why I have been working with Natsume-kun to create a perfect replic— oho?”
Wataru’s gaze turns on Ritsu, swift and piercing as it singles him out, as buried between the rows of chairs as he is. “Ah, if it isn’t the dear younger brother of my beloved friend! Ritsu-kun, do come join us on the stage!”
Ritsu makes a face, but obeys, walking down the aisle until he can pull himself up onto the stage. “What brother? You’re mistaken.”
Wataru swoons dramatically, falling into the chair the other girl left empty. “What ever should I tell my dearest Rei when I see him next? Oh, how saddened he shall be to hear of his cute little brother slandering him so…”
Ritsu huffs out a breath. “Tell him to die, for all I care.”
“Is this the replacement for Sakuma-senpai…?” the smaller girl asks. Ritsu glares at her, taking a small bit of pleasure in the fear that shoots across her face.
“Not a replacement,” Ritsu declares decisively. “Maybe your new actor, though. I haven’t decided yet…”
Wataru grins. “Well, then we must simply convince you!” They gesture to the two people in front of him. “This is Hidaka Hokuto, our tortured and grieving protagonist Haruka, and Mashiro Tomoya, playing Haruka’s student Airi.”
There’s a loud gasp from the wings, and Ritsu doesn’t even have time to turn towards the source before a familiar voice calls out, “Ritsu-chan!” and grabs him in a hug from behind.
“Natchan,” Ritsu says. “Hi.”
“So, so,” Arashi says, letting go of Ritsu and spinning him to face her, “what do you think of it so far?”
“ Well ,” Ritsu says, drawing out the single syllable into at least three (it’s one of his many talents), “Natchan didn’t send me a copy of the script, so I don’t know what’s going on. But the scene I saw was pretty good.”
Another familiar voice from the wings — “Wataruuuuu, for the piece for—” and then another gasp and a loud yell of “ Rittsu!” and Leo is reaching around Arashi to grab them in a horrible sandwich of a hug, Ritsu pressed up against Arashi’s chest with Leo’s arms around both of them.
“Hi, Tsukipi,” Ritsu says the best he can with his face squished against Arashi.
“Leo-kun, you almost knocked me over,” Arashi complains.
“Sorry, sorry!” Leo says, and Ritsu doesn’t need to see him to know his face is split with that brilliant grin of his. “I was just so excited to see Rittsu, I started running before I could even think!”
He pulls away, and Ritsu sets eyes on Tsukinaga Leo for the first time in a few weeks, and he seems exactly the same as ever — messy ponytail, bright eyes, a smile that takes up half his face and is just as infectious.
“What did you need me for, Leo-kun?” Wataru asks.
Leo snaps his fingers. “Right, right! The piece for when Haruka meets Nozomi for the first time — nothing I’ve written seems right , you know? Like I can’t find the right inspiration for it! So I wanted to see the scene acted out again!”
Wataru nods. “Ah, to use our actors as your muses! Unfortunately, we’re down a Nozomi at the moment…”
Leo seems confused by Wataru’s reaction, and Arashi sighs and sets a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “Sakuma-senpai, Leo-kun. That’s why I had to ask our dear Ritsu-chan, remember?”
“Ohhh, right!” Leo’s brows furrow with thought for a moment. His eyes widen with the spark of a great idea as he says, “Then, we should get Rittsu to do the scene with Hokke!”
“What an amazing idea, Leo-kun!” Wataru says. They spin once in place, then say, “Tomoya-kun! Please grab Keito-kun for me, and get Mitsuru-kun and Sora-kun to help you with the set change to scene seven!”
Tomoya grumbles a bit but obeys easily, walking off stage. Wataru turns to the rest of them. “Now! Why don’t we move to the audience to free up the stage for the set change, and so Ritsu can learn more of what is being asked of him?”
Ritsu realizes idly, as Arashi joins them in the audience, that she probably has something to be doing backstage — but if Wataru isn’t going to tell her to go do something else, he won’t care. Plus, it’ll be fun to have Arashi watch the scene. Even if Ritsu has no idea what he’s doing.
“So…” Ritsu says once he’s comfortably settled in a chair, “do I finally get to learn what the play is about?”
“Hokuto-kun, why don’t you explain?” Wataru says.
Hokuto sighs in the same put-upon way Tomoya did after being given a direction by Wataru earlier, but acquiesces just as easily. Ritsu won’t lie; he’s a little bit intrigued by whatever relationship those two have with Wataru — who he only knows through Rei, but knows enough to say with confidence that Hibiki Wataru is his own force of nature.
“The protagonist, Haruka,” Hokuto says, “is a musician. A guitarist, to be particular. She began to learn the instrument because of the influence of her close childhood friend, Kaoru. At the start of the play, Kaoru has unexpectedly and suddenly died due to a tragic accident; as a result of this, Haruka finds herself unable to play the guitar, despite her love for it. She meets Nozomi by chance, and slowly — through his love of piano and their growing love for one another — finds herself able to enjoy music again.” Hokuto has an unexpectedly formal and upright way of comporting himself; Ritsu finds himself slightly more awed at the way she portrayed Haruka’s emotional distress onstage. “Is that a suitable summary, Hibiki-senpai?”
“Yes, yes!” Wataru says. “Though, it sounds a bit like something out of a shoujo manga when you say it like that. Keito-kun has worked very hard to portray grief and loss in his writing, you know!”
As if summoned by Wataru’s words, Keito walks down the aisle of the theater’s audience to join them. “I hope you’re not slandering my name, Hibiki,” Keito says, taking the empty seat next to Wataru.
“Why, of course not, dear author! Merely explaining your works to the feeble masses!”
Keito pushes his glasses up. “You make it sound like I have a superiority complex. That qualifies as slander, I’ll have you know.”
Wataru just grins.
“Also,” Wataru tells Ritsu, “there’s a lot of scenes where Kaoru gets to be a ghostly apparition haunting Haruka’s psyche! Keito-kun has put together quite a compelling script.”
They hand Ritsu a set of papers — their own, extremely marked up script, it seems. “What’s Nozomi like?” Ritsu says, skimming the script as he flips to find scene seven.
“Nozomi is however you choose to play him!” Wataru replies cheerily.
“Hm, but I just want to know what I’m doing in the scene…” Ritsu says. He finds scene seven, eyes scanning the page as he flips through it. He ignores Wataru’s myriad of annotations for now — Wataru is right that Ritsu should probably decide how he wants to try and play Nozomi before letting the genius director give him nudges in whatever direction is best. “I can probably figure it out, though.” He lifts the script in the air, looking towards Wataru. “Can I keep this?”
“For the scene, yes,” Wataru says.
Ritsu stands, script in hand, stepping into the aisle and looking back at Hokuto. “Well?” Ritsu says. “Are you coming?”
Hokuto flushes, scrambling out of his seat to join Ritsu as he walks towards the stage. “So we’re just going straight in?” Hokuto mutters as they walk, glancing surreptitiously back towards Wataru.
Ritsu shrugs. “No better way, right? Besides, it’s only me they’ll be watching… Don’t stress so much.” He glances over at Hokuto again — she’s cute when she’s flustered. “Can I call you Hokkun?”
The flush on Hokuto’s cheeks deepens, and Ritsu holds back a small, self-satisfied smile. “So familiar…” he mutters, but he doesn’t deny the nickname.
Ritsu pulls himself onto the stage. It’s been transformed in the short time he was sitting in the audience — the chairs have been removed, and a piano has been wheeled onto the left side of the stage. There’s an arch roughly in the center of the stage — to represent a door, likely. Both the piano and the arch are at a three quarter angle — Ritsu’s back will be facing the audience while he plays, mostly. He wonders why Wataru chose this staging.
He takes a seat at the piano bench, and Hokuto walks over to the wings on the other side of the stage. Ritsu places the script where one would put sheet music — he hopes Wataru won’t care too much if he’s reading off of the script for the whole scene. Besides, he doesn’t need to talk much until the third part, anyway.
“Action!” Wataru calls from the audience, once he and Hokuto are both in place, and the hands Ritsu had been hovering over the keys come to life.
This is the piece Leo was probably talking about earlier, when he ran onto the stage — his pieces never disappoint, and Ritsu’s excited to learn whatever it is Leo ends up writing for this. For now, he plays another piece of Leo’s he has memorized, one he used in a show recently. If he lets himself move his hands across the keys and bring his body into the movement a bit more dramatically than usual — well, he is acting, isn’t he?
Out of the corner of his eye, Ritsu watches as Hokuto walks along his side of the stage. She pauses in the doorway, watching his fingers fly across the keys, the way his body moves along to the music, urging, creating — then she spins back towards the audience, walking away.
Ritsu almost regrets being in the scene — he wanted to see the expression on Hokuto’s face, the awe and wonder turned guilt and agony as Haruka ached for her own shattered love of music. He’s even more certain of it now than he was when he watched Hokuto’s first scene — he’s a talented actor. And, well — Arashi was right, though he hates to admit it. Hokuto is his type.
Wataru indicates for them to move to the next part of the scene — Nozomi isn’t in this part, but Wataru tells them to run through it anyway, so Ritsu steps into the wings and gets a front row seat to Hokuto’s acting.
Hokuto passes the doorway again, the same as last time — except she glances in, expression falling a bit with disappointment when she sees Nozomi isn’t there. She walks in slowly, a hand reaching out to run lightly across the keys as she walks, expression almost wistful. Her bag falls to the floor as she takes a seat on the bench, fingers resting lightly against the keys. Ritsu finds herself taking a breath, holding it, as Hokuto-as-Haruka leans forward, even her expression tensing in anticipation— and then she slumps backwards, picking up her bag and practically running out of the room, and the breath Ritsu lets out feels as disappointed as Hokuto plays Haruka to be.
They move swiftly into the third portion of the scene — the real heart of it, the test of whether or not Ritsu will work as Nozomi and if this massive detour in his plans for potentially the next two months will have been worth it or not. Ritsu takes his place at the piano again, Hokuto in the wings.
They don’t even need Wataru to cue them, this time — Ritsu simple glances at Hokuto out of the corner of his eyes, their gazes meeting, and he presses down on the piano’s keys at the same time Hokuto takes her first step onto the stage.
Ritsu skims the script again as his fingers move across the keys — Nozomi notices Haruka standing in the doorway, this time, so he waits another measure before shifting his head just slightly to the right, fingers stilling on the keys when he sees Hokuto. He startles as Ritsu turns to him. “You don’t have to just stand there, you know,” Ritsu says. Hokuto’s face is still covered in apprehension, so Ritsu lets his expression soften into the start of a smirk and says, “I don’t bite. I promise.”
(Idly, Ritsu wonders if that line was added before or after one of the Sakumas was casted as Nozomi.)
Ritsu has to give Hokuto credit — he does a wonderful job at acting through the warring emotions on Haruka’s face before stepping through the doorway, coming closer to the piano. Ritsu turns back to the keys and resumes the piece where he left off — it’s in the stage directions, but it also lets him read the script more easily.
“So, are you a musician?” he asks, tone conversational. Haruka might be going through the seven stages of grief all over again, but Nozomi isn’t any the wiser to her internal conflict. “Or just a curious passerby?”
Haruka laughs — it’s slightly shaky, a bit too breathless. “You say that like I can’t be both.”
Ritsu turns his face towards Hokuto, that half-smile growing into a wry grin. “They tend to just be one, in my experience. Or are you planning on proving me wrong?”
Hokuto hesitates, then says, “Musician.”
“What do you play?”
A longer hesitation. A beat that drags just too long, filled only by the sounds of Ritsu’s fingers against the piano. “Guitar,” Haruka says, voice shaking slightly. “Haven’t practiced in a while, though.”
Ritsu hums. “Maybe you should play with me some time. It gets a bit stale playing on your own, you know?”
He looks over at Hokuto, letting his fingers still against the piano. Ritsu keeps his expression pleasant, expectant, watching as Haruka’s facade seems to crumble with every passing second.
It’s almost painful to watch, even as Ritsu keeps his focus on playing the scene out to its conclusion. Haruka takes a shaking breath in — then turns and runs, distress plain as day on her face. Ritsu stands, running after her — but he’s a second too late, and she’s disappeared down the hallway by the time he makes it to the doorway, clinging to its frame.
“And… cut!” Wataru cries from the audience, clapping loudly. Ritsu looks over, squinting slightly against the stage lights, and sees Arashi, Leo, and Keito have joined in on Wataru's applause. “You did admirably, Ritsu-kun! Particularly since I threw you into the deep end — but oh, how you swam! Amazing!”
Keito pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “While I hate to agree with Hibiki on anything… yes, you suited the role of Nozomi quite well. Better than Sakuma, even. Your initial chemistry with Hidaka is nothing to scoff at, either.”
Hokuto re-enters the stage, approaching Ritsu. “So,” Hokuto says, “have we convinced you?”
Ritsu thinks over his mental list of reasons why he might do the play. One, he’s bored — this is definitely shaping up to be fun, and will easily fill the gap of entertainment he’s found himself falling into. Two, he wants to play more of Leo’s compositions — from the skimming of the script Ritsu did earlier, he’s sure he’ll get plenty of chances to do that. And Rei might always be the more musically inclined of the two of them, but Ritsu has always loved piano more — he’s sure that will serve him well here.
Three — with Hokuto’s blue eyes staring towards him, almost piercing in their brilliance, and the lingering sense of awe from watching not just a professional, but someone with passion for their craft — how could Ritsu possibly turn the role down?