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Colors. Vibrant, gorgeous colors, concentrated down below into an enclosed mini-ocean of their own.
From the top of the ferris wheel, the already-beautiful spectacle of Phoenix Wonderland at night was laid out below in every single inch of its glory. The way it stood out even among the surrounding lit-up buildings of Shibuya, separating itself with a simple sense of pure wonder, was fascinating to Rui. It almost seemed like a world of its own.
A somewhat-loud snore brought him back to his senses. Ah, right. The ferris wheel just so happened to be stopped.
No matter how many times the park engineers tried to fix or redo parts of the wheel, it still almost always ended up stopping in an unpredictable semi-frequent pattern. At least twice a week, if Rui recalled correctly. It was quite amusing; whenever it was inspected, no one could seem to find any sort of physical issue on the wheel that would lead to such frequent stopping. It was almost as if the wheel had a mind of its own, choosing the perfect moments to strike and trap its passengers in a moment of closeness or awkwardness.
The four members of Wonderlands x Showtime, having an evening without one of their night shows, had decided to take advantage of the extra time to simply go on the ferris wheel. Going on the attraction together to just chat and enjoy each other’s presence had become somewhat of a semi-frequent activity for the four. Tonight, when the ride had suddenly stopped, right at the moment they got to the top, Rui hadn’t thought much of it—he assumed that it would end up happening eventually with the four as victims considering how frequently they’d been going on in recent times.
After being distracted from his brief marveling at the colors below, Rui turned around towards the source of the snoring. It seemed that Tsukasa, sitting across from him and Emu with Nene at his side, had fallen asleep while waiting for the wheel to begin operating again, and was, unsurprisingly, the source of the loud snoring. Surprisingly, Nene was asleep as well—leaning on Tsukasa’s shoulder at that, seemingly undisturbed by his loud snores.
Rui chuckled quietly, feeling a fuzzy warmth bloom in his chest as he looked at the two. He’d gotten accustomed to that warmth which made itself known almost any time he was with any of his troupemates, despite his unwillingness to act on it quite yet.
(Which he didn’t want to dwell on. Other feelings, feelings that he didn’t want to spend as much time thinking about, were what got in the way of that. It’s easier to simply not think about them at all, is it not?)
In his fond gazing at the two sleeping performers, Rui felt a small nudge on his shoulder with the sound of a quiet yet amused giggle. He turned, the sides of his mouth curling up a bit more into a content smile, towards Emu, who was staring right at him with a warm and starry-eyed gaze.
Emu glanced at Nene and Tsukasa, and then back to Rui, and then to the other two again. Her smile seemed to get a bit bigger each time.
Ah, so she found it just as adorable as he did. And she’s just as adorable, Rui thought to himself, letting his own smile grow. Though it was fairly obvious to others that Rui almost always seemed to understand Emu’s constant onomatopoeia-filled, energetic, occasionally-nonsensical-to-others way of speaking that left nearly everyone else that heard her baffled, the two had gotten into a habit of communicating with each other nonverbally.
It was almost like an exchange—Rui, so used to expressing himself in ways that weren’t “normal” (usually through what he designed and created), and occasionally not wanting to speak much due to feeling overwhelmed whether by outside factors or his own internal anxieties, found it not very difficult to quickly pick up what Emu meant whenever she threw in a bunch of sound effects or wondahois or the like into an explanation of something. And Emu, so used to expressing herself not only through her words but through actions, little hand movements when she talks, and gestures that some people found to be a bit much, understood almost immediately when Rui had, one day, fatigued and overwhelmed, spoken little to no words, opting for quiet hums most of the time, and had mostly communicated through minimal gestures. She, too, had moments like those in her own life—though not usually seen by the rest of the troupe, as they had generally been the worst when she was at home.
(When Emu had, that day that Rui had been so overwhelmed, decided to not speak excessively to him, instead communicating nonverbally as well as to not overstimulate him with more noise, Rui could’ve sworn he’d felt his heart melting.)
Rui let out a quiet, happy sigh almost naturally, shifting closer to Emu. He shifted his gaze to look out of the window again. The park below still looked as beautiful as ever. He almost felt like he could be enveloped in those beautiful, shining lights, like a gorgeous crystal cocoon.
Feeling something shift next to him once again, he turned his head to be met with Emu even closer to him now, comfortably nestling herself into his side in order to look out of his side of the car.
He chuckled quietly, that warmth returning and blooming in his chest as well as creeping up to his face. He inwardly cursed himself as he felt his cheeks get warmer.
“It’s beautiful, yes?” Rui murmured softly as to not wake the other two.
Emu didn't respond, but her smile and her warm, starry gaze that was transfixed on the sea of lights under them just like Rui moments ago answered more to him than any words could.
The two sat in silence for a couple seconds, still staring at the lights. Almost as if time was frozen for a few moments.
The silence was broken by Emu speaking again, her voice soft and a bit nostalgic.
“...I used to ride up here at night a lot. Phoenix Wonderland’s always been sparkly and pretty and so-so-shiny when it’s dark.” Her eyes seemed a bit wistful, staring into another time.
“But…sometimes, even though it was still all bright and pretty, it didn’t always feel the same. It didn’t feel as vivid or warm. Especially after…” Her voice trailed off quietly. She looked at Rui for a moment. Sadness seemed to light up her gaze for a split second, her smile small and bittersweet.
Rui nodded in wordless understanding. Seeming to relax a bit, Emu continued.
“But…now, after…after everything—meeting you guys, saving the park, putting on the bestest-best shows…” Her smile grew. That familiar, eager warmth returned to her gaze, though it carried that wistfulness still.
“I think…I think it’s more pretty and shiny and so-so-so-so-sparkly than ever.” She giggled quietly, leaning a bit on Rui’s shoulder.
As he expected, that warmth settled in his face once again when Emu did this, a bit more than previously. A flutter in his chest made him once again curse himself internally. Though, he opted to not dwell on it afterwards, simply smiling fondly and moving a hand to gently fluff up Emu’s hair.
“Do you mind if I say something a bit silly, Emu?” He asked without thinking, his own words surprising himself. He felt Emu nod from where she was on his shoulder, though.
“Mhm…”
“Well…” Rui paused, trying to think about how to word this. “I think the lights and I might be a bit similar. And you as well.”
Emu didn’t say anything, staring at him with wide, expectant eyes.
He went on— “I, too, would often find myself feeling…not very bright, or rich, or vivid, such as these lights. Or, in literal terms, unfulfilled. Like some sort of thing was missing from…myself.” Rui sighed, looking out the window once again, before continuing.
“And it would get to me…quite a bit. And it affected me very negatively for a while.” He felt a momentary sting in his chest. The blade of unpleasant memories never failed to pain him even in the briefest of thoughts, and he hated it. He’d properly open up to the others about that time in his life someday. When he was ready.
“But it appears that those lights, for me, have been reinvigorated—well, more accurately, they are more vivid and rich than they ever have been. And I can state with confidence that being with you all is the cause of that.” Rui internally winced a bit as he finished talking. Any other person would cringe at his sappy metaphors, he thought.
Yet Emu only stared, taking in every word, before her eyes filled with warmth and…was it love? It could have been love. Rui didn’t bother to dwell heavily on it.
She simply nodded, seeming to understand perfectly.
“Hehe…I get it! I’m…” She paused, looking away a bit bashfully—unusual behavior for Emu—before continuing. “...I’m the same too, I think.”
They both went quiet again, simply enjoying the comfort of each other’s gazes. The silence was comforting, in an odd way.
“Rui?”
“Yes, Emu?”
“If we do end up…” The silence she trailed off into spoke volumes—volumes of things that almost daily clung to Rui’s heart like a cold vice grip. “...then what’s gonna happen to the lights? Our lights?” She didn’t need to say what she was referring to. Rui would understand the most out of everyone.
He felt his smile falter, feeling the sting of the other blade—that of the future—that laid in wait to strike his heart with pain at the most fleeting thought. But he kept his composure. He couldn’t keep letting his weakness get the best of him. He sighed, the tone of it (and his own feelings, for that matter) unreadable.
“...I’m not quite sure. Perhaps they will lose a bit of their color.” He mused thoughtfully. “Maybe they will lose a bit of their vibrancy.”
Emu averted her gaze, staring at the ground. Her expression couldn’t be seen.
“But…” Rui continued, still keeping a smile on his face. “...even if that does happen, they’ll still be stronger than they were in the beginning, I believe.”
“Huh?”
Rui gently wrapped an arm around Emu as she tilted her head at him. She leaned into his touch, seeming to slot into his side almost perfectly.
“I know the memories that I’ll always keep of you all, even if a thousand years go by, will remain in my heart still. And…they’ll keep the lights just a bit brighter, even if they’re not as bright as they once were.” He mumbled, moving his gaze from Emu to look at the two sleeping across from them, before returning it back.
“Mmh…” Emu shifted, snuggling into Rui’s side a bit. “I get it now.” Her voice was still tinged with the tiniest bit of worry, but she seemed more at ease after Rui’s words.
“I’ll always keep my lights super-duper sparkly and shiny and wondahoi, okay? Just for you all…” Emu giggled, her voice becoming a bit mumbly and quiet as the pull of drowsiness began to tug on her.
Rui was a bit relieved that, from this position, she couldn’t really see how red his face just got. He just chuckled, leaning his head gently atop Emu’s, interlocking his hand with hers and gently squeezing it.
“...And I will do the same for you all as well.” Rui whispered, murmuring a goodnight under his breath as he watched Emu slowly drift off.
He watched all three of them quietly, fondly, lovingly—none of them woke even as the ferris wheel slowly chugged to life and began to slowly rotate them once again. (They would only wake once Rui gently shook them at the ground.)
And it eased him to feel that icy, anxious grip on his heart thaw just a bit. Thawing from the knowledge that even if something happens, the time that he’s had and the memories he’s made with the three who have stolen his heart—he mused with a bashful smile—will always be there with him.
Maybe things will be alright, after all.