Work Text:
“Now, let’s take a picture together and upload it to social media to show our fans our bond!”
Jun blinks slowly. He was a little surprised that Ibara would go out of his way to celebrate his birthday—his attitude towards Jun tends toward careless compared to his devotion to Nagisa and Hiyori—but okay, so that’s what this is. Checks out.
He’s satisfied with the explanation, kinda amused to see how obsessed Ibara is with work, as always, but a teeny, tiny part of him is just a little bit disappointed. Maybe. He decides to ignore that part.
Jun voices his agreement, and Ibara gathers Nagisa and Hiyori so that they can all squeeze together and pose in front of the decorative stack of presents in the CosPro office.
Click. Ibara relaxes his posture and tilts his head in focus as he analyzes the photo. “You’re not smiling, Jun. This won’t work—this is supposed to be your day.” He clicks his tongue and extends the phone out again. “Lean in, Your Excellency, Your Highness. And Jun, make sure to smile this time.”
They all lean in, and Ibara tilts the phone down slightly to make sure to capture the pile of gifts, stretching his arm in order to fit them all in the frame. Jun glances down at his feet and realizes that Ibara’s actually standing on tip-toes in order to take the picture.
He quickly looks away so he doesn’t laugh, instead watching as Ibara smiles for the camera. It’s one of his typical, over-exaggerated business smiles, but even if it’s overtly insincere, there’s something about the confidence he puts into it that makes it captivating anyways. He has no idea if Ibara himself thinks he’s passing as genuine or not, but this is probably what his fans like him for—the bravado.
Ibara snaps him out of it when he clears his throat. “Jun. Look at the camera, not at me.”
Jun’s eyes quickly dart back to the camera, and he smiles, embarrassed. He forgot Ibara could still see him on the phone screen.
The phone camera clicks, and Ibara’s smile disappears with it. Hiyori scrambles from his position to lean over Ibara’s shoulder and see the photo.
“It’s satisfactory,” Ibara says, after some pause. “I think our fans should be pleased with this.”
“Mm, I look good,” Hiyori says, and jabs a finger at the screen. “And look, Jun-kun’s blushing a little! Send it to me, Ibara-kun!”
Ibara maneuvers his phone away from him. “You can download it from the official Eden Twitter account,” he says, monotone. “Please like the post with your personal account, while you’re at it.”
Hiyori folds his arms. “Bor-ing!”
Nagisa leans in. “Could you show me, too?” he asks politely.
“Of course, Your Excellency,” Ibara says, holding the phone out. Nagisa accepts it gently, and Jun takes the opportunity to look at the picture, too.
He really is blushing, but at least he’s smiling, too. It looks as if he’s bashful of having his birthday celebrated, and not just embarrassed to have been caught staring. The balloons and birthday banners are captured in the background, too, with enough color to look lively but not oversaturated. Even the lighting looks flattering. Ibara really has a sense for this kind of thing.
Nagisa turns to smile at Jun. “It’s a nice picture.”
Jun nods. It is a nice picture. It’s just…
“It’ll make a good addition to our promotional material,” Ibara says, taking his phone back. “I just need to caption it.” He slips the phone into his pocket and pats down his shirt. “Now, I have some work I need to attend to, but you three enjoy Jun’s birthday breakfast.”
And just like that, Ibara leaves. His steps are brisk, like usual, fast enough that he seems like he’s busy but not enough that he seems panicked. Jun respects his efficiency, mostly, but would it kill him to take some things slower?
“Jun. Is something wrong?”
Jun turns back to find Nagisa peering at him inquisitively. He shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing,” Hiyori says, leaning in. He waves his hand in front of Jun’s face. “What is it? You know you can tell us anything.”
Jun leans away. “And I’m telling you, it’s fine. The three of us should go ‘enjoy my birthday breakfast,’ since it’s all prepared.”
He realizes a moment later that he copied Ibara’s phrasing, and Nagisa seems to notice, too, because he nods at him with a look of understanding. “Ibara can be a little insensitive, but he has good intentions. I’m sure he’ll return later.”
Jun coughs. “Goddamn! I said it was nothing.”
Hiyori ignores Jun’s protest, nodding in satisfaction. “So that’s what you were worried about? Ibara? You know he’s awkward, he’ll come around sometime.” He puts a hand on Jun’s shoulder. “C’mon, cheer up! It doesn’t get to be your birthday that often.”
“I know, I know,” Jun says.
Really. He’s more than used to Ibara’s behavior by now. Even though he is callous, that’s a sign that he can let his guard down around Jun. And he knows he does care, in his own ways, even if his good deeds all do end up working in Eden’s financial favor. Jun gets it.
It’s just, he could’ve stayed a little longer. Today.
Hiyori still seems concerned, and even Nagisa is looking expectantly at him. “Can we just eat breakfast?” Jun says.
Hiyori jostles his shoulder. “Yep! Happy birthday again, Jun-kun!”
It still feels weird that so many people know his birthday. He knows this is standard fare for an Ensemble Square idol, but it still feels crazy how many people actually bother to carve out the time in their busy schedules to stop by with congratulations and a gift.
Occupied with the celebrating and the short birthday event job, Jun manages to almost completely forget about Ibara. Which is why it surprises him after he finishes the birthday question corner to find Ibara waiting outside the recording room, typing busily on his laptop.
“Hey, Ibara,” Jun says. “I got your present earlier. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Ibara says, closing his laptop and putting it neatly into his case. He doesn’t seem very interested in Jun’s reaction. “More importantly, I have something else for you.”
Ibara neglects to elaborate, already walking away, and Jun scrambles to follow him. Ibara stays quiet on the way, and they end up in the Starmony dormitory’s kitchen.
Ibara flicks on the light and motions to the counter, where a strawberry cake sits. It’s covered with white icing, edged with dollops of whipped cream, and decorated with a circle of strawberries. Jun’s mouth waters a little.
“By now, I suppose you’ve probably already had more than enough to eat,” Ibara says, “but I worked with Niki’s Kitchen to bake you a cake.” He adjusts his glasses—maybe he’s a little nervous, or maybe Jun is overthinking things.
Jun stares at the cake, at a loss for words. Even if it is just to upload a pretty picture to social media, it’s still touching to imagine Ibara taking the time to talk to his circle-mates and make a strawberry cake, just for Jun. It gives him the sudden urge to stop by one of Niki’s Kitchen’s meetings. He wonders if Ibara has the same quiet look of concentration when he’s cooking, too.
“Thank you,” Jun says, belatedly, when he realizes Ibara is still waiting for his response. “You remembered I like strawberries.”
“Obviously,” says Ibara. “I should at least be aware of my unitmates’ preferences.” He eyes Jun. “Are you going to sit down?”
“Oh, yeah.” Jun seats himself on one of the stools. He’s still feeling a little giddy, so before Ibara can ruin the moment with talk of business and advertising, Jun takes out his own phone and snaps a picture of the cake for him.
Click. The lighting is, frankly, mediocre, but there’s nothing he can do about that. At the very least, it’s in focus, and it’s very clearly a strawberry cake. The way the little bit of light reflects from the strawberries doesn’t look half bad, either. Good enough for Jun, at least.
But Ibara doesn’t bother to examine the photo, just cuts into the cake. He transfers the slice neatly to a plate, which he hands over to Jun set with a fork. Jun accepts it and waits, but Ibara just looks back at him, watching. He doesn’t move to cut another piece.
Jun waves a hand at the rest of the cake. “Aren’t you gonna have a slice?” he asks. “You helped make it and all.”
Ibara looks back at the cake, seeming almost unsure of himself. “Why not,” he says eventually, and neatly cuts himself a slice. It’s noticeably smaller than Jun’s.
Jun waits for him to sit down and then holds out his phone camera, thumb posed in front of the shutter button. He leans closer to Ibara, smiling, and raises his plate up so the cake’s more clearly visible. “Cheese,” he says, and as soon as Ibara looks up, he taps his thumb.
Click.
Jun lowers his phone to look at the photo. The lighting is still bad, and the background is just the plain Starmony kitchen, no fancy decorations. Ibara’s smile is slight and awkward, a far cry from his usual professional one, but the real Ibara is looking over his shoulder, not saying anything, so Jun takes it as a sign that the photo is Twitter-worthy.
“Wait a sec while I put it on Twitter,” Jun says, pulling up the app. He starts a draft from his individual account and selects the two pictures.
Ibara made this cake for me with Niki’s Kitchen! Looks tasty!
He presses the hashtag symbol, pausing to wonder what he should tag it, before Ibara cuts in.
“Wait,” he says. “I don’t think this is suitable for social media.”
Jun looks up at him. “What, d’you not like the description? Or is there something wrong with the picture? We can take another one.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Ibara says. He clears his throat. “I don’t think you should post it.”
A beat. Jun blinks. “...Huh?”
“I don’t think it aligns with our image as idols. My image,” he clarifies. His cheeks are tinged just the slightest bit red, so faint that Jun wonders if he’s imagining it. “I’m not the sort of character to bake homemade cakes for my friend on his birthday.”
Jun swallows, caught on the word. Friend. Has Ibara called him that before? “...So?”
“The fans might be put off,” Ibara insists.
“...Right,” Jun says.
Honestly, he still doesn’t get Ibara’s ‘character’ schtick. He supposes it’s probably helpful as a guideline, but he doesn’t think straying from it a little would hurt his image. If anything, it’d probably help. It’s a perfect example of—what was it? He thinks Midori mentioned it in the last Manga Club meeting—oh, yeah. ‘Gap moe.’ Looking at Ibara, he thinks he better understands the term.
“Besides, while I’m sure the flavor is up to par, the presentation is a little lacking. It’s not consistent with Eden’s standards of perfection.”
Jun looks back again at the cake. The icing is painted on smoothly, and the dollops of whipped cream are almost identical swirls. If anything, maybe the strawberries are a little different in size from each other, but it would be even more impossible to tell from the photo.
But while he thinks this, he doesn’t disagree out loud. After all, Jun is perfectly fine if this doesn’t make it onto social media.
“If you say so,” he says, and happily deletes the draft.
Ibara watches Jun close out of Twitter and then continues to watch him. His gaze is a little intense, but Jun doesn’t look away.
Ibara’s eyebrows furrow slightly. “You didn’t even eat the cake yet,” he says. “Isn’t it a little early to be smiling like that?”
Jun shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”
He swipes back to his camera roll, selects the photo, and zooms in a little on Ibara. Now that he thinks about it, he doubts there are many other pictures like this, where Ibara looks a little caught off guard instead of picture-ready. It’s probably, like, a rare item or something. And this out-of-place, slightly flustered Ibara looks oddly adorable, for some reason.
“It’s just, I think this picture came out pretty well,” Jun says, grin widening. “Maybe I’ll make it my lock screen.”
“Please don’t,” Ibara says.
With the cake, this photo just might be one of his favorite birthday presents today.
Celebrating our one and only Sazanami Jun’s birthday today. We truly are fortunate to have such a caring and reliable member with us. To another good year! #Eden #SazanamiJunBday202_
8:16 AM · Aug 16, 202_