Archive of Our Own ^beta

The clock strikes twelve on the 15^th of May, and Tsukasa’s hands are trembling.

Invitation cards prepared. Speeches prepared. Script and outfit over and done with.

It’s unlike himself to be up at this late hour, the excitement that he felt while decorating the invitations to his own birthday party with Saki had all faded into exhaustion as the moon rose higher in the sky.

‘Would it be too much?’ He wondered. Maybe their friends were busy, he knows Touya is incredibly busy as of late with his group. Knows Saki is busy too, he feels a bit guilty for dragging her along knowing how tight her schedule became with the arrival of her new label. Even if she herself offered to help him, he couldn’t help but feel a strange weight in his consciousness.

He looks at his birthday show scripts, revises it again and again until he forgets to blink between sentences. He walks in circles in the center of his room until the soles of his shoes start to burn his footprints into the carpet. There’s something amiss about all of this. Maybe his play was more tiresome as an audience member and he cannot see it from where he’s standing, or maybe it is a bit too much, maybe they don't want to hear his personal story on his birthday.

“No, no!” He stops in the middle of his room and points at himself in the full body mirror, “Clear your head out of those thoughts, Tenma Tsukasa!”

His reflection stares back at him, that clone of himself wears his exhaustion down to the bone, sardonic and cynical. Only then he realizes that he probably shouldn’t scream too loud at these hours. But the wide space of his open room keeps their nightly silence, aside from the sounds of his breathing and the light taps of wind against his window.

He runs his fingers through his hair, tracing from his scalp to his mouth. Between his fingers, he loathes, “How am I supposed to become a star if I keep acting like this?”

His reflection stares at him, Tsukasa doesn’t feel like returning the gaze. Maybe it's too late, maybe he needs to sleep it out and figure out what he's going to do tomorrow. He'll hand his silly invitations tomorrow and by then, an incredible idea will show up that will bring some conclusion to all his problems.

The bedsheets seem foreign to his touch, he fears they might try to suffocate him once he drifts off to his slumber but shoves that thought aside, too. His heart and mind are too full, but he closes his eyes and hopes for a better tomorrow.

He wakes up to Saki's worried voice and he all but jumps out of his bed, disoriented but extremely awake. For how long did he sleep? Did his alarm turn off in the middle of the night? He doesn’t stay sit to wonder, in mere seconds he’s stumbling down the stairs, fumbling with his school tie and apologizing in his usual loud voice. The too-familiar scene that greets him in the living room is of her sister, sitting on the couch with her leg jumping up and down in impatience, his father next to her patting her back with his lips pressed together, and her mother stands a handful of steps away, typing numbers into the family phone.

“But his phone is right here,” Saki says. Tsukasa recognizes his own phone as the one Saki’s holding close to her chest, clinging to it like it’d escape right out of her hands if left unattended.

“Call his friends, let’s call Harumichi-san, too, just to be sure…” His dad answers, giving her a quick look at his mother before focusing on Saki again.

Tsukasa’s immediate action after standing there in shock is to go to his mother, who paced around aimlessly as she waited for the other person on the line to pick up.

Familiar, it was all too familiar.

"What's going on? Mom, what happened?"

He can hear his own voice, feels it slip away right out of his throat, but his mother doesn’t turn her head to him. She doesn’t even glance at his direction, as if he hadn’t spoken at all.

As if,

“—u-chan and Rui-kun but they haven't seen him since yesterday.” Saki continues. Unknowing.

“Let’s calm down and focus—"

“How am I supposed to calm down?! He doesn't run off without telling someone about it, how can he just disappear like this?!” Saki interrupts his father, and the apologies die on her throat as a sob rips out of her. Tsukasa stays there, frozen in place as his sister weeps into her palms. His phone remains close to her.

His parents share a worried look again.

“I'll call the police.” his mother says, hanging her previous session and typing loud numbers into her device again.

It's unbelievable and terrifying. Despite his unmovable figure, he was more than familiar with being petrified, unable to do anything but stare into nothing while your mind raced a thousand miles per second. He could recall the times the blood would drain off out of his body every time the house phone rang when he was alone. All that fear he had successfully hidden deep inside of him resurfaces to the top like muddy bubbles finding their way out of the bottom of a pond.

His feet stay on the ground, yet he feels weightless. He looks down at his hands and watches the floor shine under him, right through them. His breath trembles and his vision blurs but he approaches his sister.

“Saki… Saki, you can hear me, right? I’m here…” He’d always been good at distracting Saki from her growing pains, from any kind of pain except the ones that were out of his control. His fingers phase right through her head, and he instantly take his hand back to his chest, as if he’d been burnt right to the core.

His little sister is crying, and he cannot console her.

He carries himself up the stairs towards his room, lungs burning and legs threatening to give out at any second. The ground below him does not make a single sound.

A somber reminder of his desperate expression yesterday flashes in his mind. He didn’t expect to yearn to see that reflection once again, even if it carried that uneasy look that did not suit him in the slightest.

Between the mist on his eyes, he focuses and what he finds in his reflection is a resounding emptiness.

It’s incredibly late into the day, but Tsukasa finds himself going to school despite his current condition. Being trapped in his room with a constant reminder that no one could see him would turn his head around in madness in no time, and his head is already in a better place than it was early in the morning. He left Saki with their parents at home. They’d been next to her during crises longer than he has and he cannot even talk to her this time. There was no point in staying inside his house aside from wanting to feel useless.

He breathes in. The air is light with the airy beginnings of spring and the people around him pass through him as if he were a part of the scenery around.

It’s hard to see how the world moves on, with or without him.

“Tsukasa-senpai disappeared.” Touya speaks and Tsukasa straightens his head in an instant when he hears that familiar voice so close to where he’s standing. When exactly did he walk into the First Year’s corridor? And most importantly, right into Touya and Nene’s classroom instead of his own?

“What?” Akito frowns, head tilting to the side, “Disappeared? Him?”

Tsukasa watches them in silence. Between all the empty classroom seats, Akito rests against a desk with An next not too far away from him, her corridor duty armband tightly secured on her arm. Seems Tsukasa got here just in time for their lunch break.

“Saki-san called me earlier today asking if I knew where Tsukasa-senpai was and when I told her no, she said that she found his bed empty today. He did not leave a message behind.” he explains, his tone grows faster the more words spill out of his mouth, barely taking breaths between his sentences, “I wonder what happened to him…”

Bombarded with information, An and Akito glance at each other and then right back at Touya. He doesn’t return their glazes, hell, he’d barely looked up at all during their exchange. His gray eyes were fixed on a nothing point in the middle of his desk.

“Touya, let's go rest a while, you're stressing yourself out,” Akito says after a while, “We should cancel practice for today, An.”

Taking out her phone, An nods, “I'll let Kohane know.”

“Huh? But we should be getting ready for our next performance…” Touya finally raises his head, focusing on his worried friends.

For a mere second, Tsukasa swears Touya looks straight at his eyes and a glimmer of hope grows inside him. It dies when he realizes that Touya would react if Tsukasa stood close to him, seeing him hanging around class 1-B wasn’t that common of a sight. It’s incredible how quickly his hopes fall once he takes a proper note of it.

“Touya-kun, you look like you're about to pass out at any moment.” An says, looking right at him after typing on her phone.

“She’s right, you’re not usually this pale,” Akito pats his shoulder, shaking him from side to side for a second, trying to wake him up further. “I’ll buy you some coffee from the vending machine right outside, that should lower your stress, at least for now.”

Touya sighs a small ‘Thank you’ and rises from his seat, getting ready to leave the classroom and eat something with the rest of them. An’s right, he looks slightly worn out, like his usual light was wiped out of him with sandpaper. Something uncomfortable picks from under Tsukasa’s skin, something that threatens to turn him upside down.

Tsukasa cannot bear to look at him any longer. He gets reminded of the sight of her sister sobbing her heart out early in the morning and he stumbles his way to the rooftop with that image in his head.

Rui and Tsukasa were… dating?

Rui guesses they are. At least he liked to think that they were.

Rui had taken notice of his –not at all– little crush not too long ago, it was brought to his attention through a small talk after rehearsals over Tsukasa’s new script, which had a strangely romantic undertone. It did nothing but snowball from there. Rui could not explain all the things that he liked about Tsukasa, unlike the numbered list with mistakes he sent to Tsukasa after he found some in their shared scripts, or the consistency issues he found when they reviewed a movie they watched together. It was not that simple.

He mostly knew that he liked being– he liked existing close to where Tsukasa was. He knew that he’d never enjoyed his name being called more than in the way Tsukasa called him. He couldn't tell Tsukasa about the times he’d appeared in his dreams, and they would just talk until Rui woke up, hands searching for his phone with the burning need to keep their conversation flowing. He just couldn't tell him that the thing he liked most about those dreams was that Tsukasa would lay his head on Rui’s lap and sleep, safe and sound where only Rui could see him.

And so, that fateful confession happened right here, Rui recalls, on the rooftop. They were doing nothing but eating their respective lunches when it escaped out of his own mouth as a harsh revelation. Looking back at it, it was kind of inevitable, Rui was staring too much at the empty space between Tsukasa’s fingers, at the middle point in his hair where blonde met pink. The longing had taken root in his heart and bloomed from inside his lungs all the way out of his parted lips. He could no longer contain it inside himself and blurted those dreaded words out when none of them were expecting it.

It was a shame; he’d been hiding it so well until then.

For a second, the usual comfortable silence that he loved sharing with Tsukasa was replaced with poison, harming him every passing second. The sight of Tsukasa, eyes widened and in a loss for words had him feeling secondhand embarrassment for himself. He cursed his feelings for intercepting his reasoning once again.

He’d been about to make a light joke, something about blowing him up with pyrotechnics or tying him up to a hot air balloon, something that could bring them out of the depths of uncertainty.

What he got, instead, was Tsukasa’s sweet and simple ‘I like you too, Rui!’

He could not, for the love of anything, comprehend why or how. But Tsukasa had told him about his inexperience with everything related to love, but how he was determined on making them work –whatever that meant–, held his hand later that day and waved him goodbye with his eyes shining and the sweetest shade of pink tinting his cheeks.

Rui was as inexperienced with everything related to love as Tsukasa was, nothing had quite seized his attention like Tsukasa had. But once his gaze fell onto Tsukasa’s cheeks and down to his lips mouthing a goodbye and his vision filled with pink, pink and pink. What is he, if not a little bit selfish? Like a moth to a flame, Rui felt the dire, aching need to bring their faces impossibly close for the first time. There were a lot of poems, sure, but none of them quite captured the feeling of ecstasy that burst out of Rui’s heart when Tsukasa’s lips melted into his.

And although they hadn’t disclosed what they shared; he knew he couldn’t find a more fitting word for him. There’s no other feeling that fits them better.

He’s changing some batteries to one of his robots when he sees, in the corner of his eyes, how the door to the rooftop swings open.

It’s slow and controlled, and he already knows who it is.

“Hey, Nene,” he greets with a small wave. She doesn't answer as she takes even smaller steps towards the place he’s sitting, right next to the grid that held his body back from the endless fall below. She sits next to him, their knees almost touching.

“Rui, he would tell us, right? If anything happened, if anything was bothering him, he would tell us… What if something happened to him during the night, what if something happened to him while he was getting home yesterday?” All the words fall out of her mouth, she’d been keeping them hidden inside her until they broke out of her like a broken dam, “How can you be so calm about this?”

Rui stops his tracks, looking right at her without saying a word. Nene sees it, of course. Rui's just as tired as she is.

“Sorry. That was insensitive,” she retracts quickly.

“It's okay, you're worried about him.” he smiles, hoping it doesn't look too forced. “I've sent a batch of drones to watch over the neighborhood and enhanced NeneRobo’s facial recognition to cover more territory in hopes of… something, any clue, anything, whatever it might be.” the metallic grid makes a bleak sound when it collides with his back, “I… I’m at a loss after that.”

The three-person group chat, created for discussing gifts for Tsukasa's birthday, was repurposed and had been in chaos this morning after Emu and Rui received Saki's call. It all just went more downhill when they realized that ‘The World Hasn’t Even Started Yet’, the one otherworldly world they shared, was also erased from the lists of songs on their phones. They all tried to make some kind of connection in their heads that could explain why. Tsukasa was just with them yesterday, boasting about his upcoming birthday and hinting –not hidden in the slightest– at a potential party at his house. Practice was just as chaotic as every day and their cleaning afterwards went smoothly.

He was as happy as he'd ever been.

Then why?

Eventually, the silence gets broken by Nene again, “My mom made this. I know this isn't Tsukasa’s, but you need to eat.”

She hands him a bento from her bag, tied with a nice pattern of blues and yellows, the warmth that reaches Rui's fingertips quickly spreads over the entirety of his body. He was yearning before he noticed it, again, wishing for the Sun to grace him with his light. “Thank you.”

He doesn’t mourn because Tsukasa’s not gone, but his heart is consumed by the flames, surrounded by thorns and sorrows that cloud his vision with poisonous vines. But for now, with Nene sitting next to him, he brings a piece of warm pork to his mouth and remembers that he isn’t alone. Not quite yet.

Being non corporeal brought some interesting discoveries.

First, Tsukasa finds that he’s as light as a feather. His stomach churns at the idea of quite literally falling off the Earth or flying upwards until the Sun’s inevitable death.

Second, despite not being able to touch anything, he could smell the faint tint of popcorn in Phoenix Wonderland’s air. If he closed his eyes, he could feel the air brushing through his hair ever so slightly. It was enough to make him feel he was still alive, that his presence brought at least some weight to Earth.

Third, his friends missed him so, so dearly.

After school, he watches as Nene struggles to find her footing on the stage during a scene where both Tsukasa’s character and her character argue over what direction to take to restore peace to their imaginary lands. His princely character was now being temporarily replaced with NeneRobo, wearing his crown prop and everything. All of them, for some reason, believed that Tsukasa would come back eventually, and so their rehearsals hadn’t stopped.

It’s not like Tsukasa doesn’t believe that he won't come back. He must come back. It will happen, sooner than later.

But his mind dares play with the idea of disappearing completely.

On the bleachers, Rui watched with impassivity with Emu sitting next to him, her hand wrapped around her legs, head resting on her knees. Sometimes, Emu’s pink eyes would dart to the path on the entrance to their little clearing before the sage, she then held her gaze there for a few seconds before returning to Nene’s form. Rui’s expression was the hardest to break down, supporting himself in his arms, he watched in silence.

It's weird. Being on top of the stage yet not claiming it. Owning it. For it to wait for another star because the one that used to be in the spotlight is nowhere to be seen. Even standing on it felt foreign. The wood below him doesn't creak with the force of his steps like it used to whenever he strolled over it during his scenes.

Still, despite what his silly brain tells him, he needs to come back to them.

For the rest of their practice, he recites his lines along with NeneRobo and takes a bit of credit when Nene’s lines don’t come out as forced as before.

As this first day ends, he hopes to find comfort on his bed again, as he did every night, but the thing that meets him is nothing but his own restlessness as he tosses back and forth between frustrated huffs.

The bedsheets were as messy as he left them the day he rushed out of his bed and down the stairs, thinking he was getting late for school. It seemed no one from his family wanted to erase the last bit of chaos Tsukasa left behind him. They didn't want to forget that someone they loved had lived there.

Time passes, as heard by the ticking clock from the kitchen below him, each tick burying itself in his consciousness and he stares at the ceiling for far too long before he grows tired of it.

Reluctant and silent as a mouse, he goes to Saki's bedroom.

It's been a long, long time since he last slept in the same room as his sister. They shared a small room when they were younger as they grew old enough to walk on their own wobbly legs, old enough to call each other by their names rather than a mess of vowels under development. It was a bit lonely, but eventually they started to sleep in their own separate rooms. Tsukasa still could rest easy knowing that his sister was just around the corner, waiting for him to wake up so they could beg their mother for some pudding for dessert.

It was lonely for him, too, when Saki got transferred to a specialized hospital and Tsukasa had to sleep inside his completely mute household, devoid of everything that had made it a home.

Tsukasa had grown too used to waking up in the middle of the night, his heavy body dragging itself to the rails of his half-room, tired and dreading his parent's hurried footsteps that echoed across all rooms. Her mother's voice trembled as he called for an ambulance and his father held a feverish Saki in his arms, telling her everything would be okay. The sight of her crying haunted him at night, he would stay torn between wanting to be a big brother and comfort her and wanting to simply cry along with her. He dared not to speak up too much, because he didn't like to be a bother to their already struggling family.

Sometimes he carried his blanket and a few plushies and slept next to Saki's bed, hoping to see her the coming morning so they could play in the park with their friends, so they could play piano together again and keep begging their mother for pudding for dessert.

Unlike those times, he does find Saki in her room, just as he expected. Her sister's sleeping peacefully, the sheets above her moving in par with her breathing.

She's alive, healthy, and back home.

He forgot his blanket and plushies this time, but Tsukasa sits with his back hitting the lower side of her bed and looks up at the glow-in-the-dark stars that decorated her ceiling, the ones he and Saki’s friends helped place. After a long day, it feels nice to fall asleep with a smile.

A day passes and his reflection still shows him nothing but the empty surroundings of his room. He’s officially declared missing on the 16^th of May by the Tokyo police and the world around him shifts ever so slightly. Then, the Earth starts to notice his absence as well.

And just like yesterday, his feet drag him to places he should be taking a part in; the unusual silence of their breakfast table, the line of people waiting for their turn to taste the new green apple soda flavor at the vending machine, the unusual silence of Rui and Nene’s lunch time, the after-school council meeting that had to send a replacement because their representative was missing.

There’s a part of him that thinks he’s becoming one with the scenery behind him.

But today, his heart decides to follow Touya after class.

Turns out, Touya’s practice sessions with his group weren't as different as the ones Tsukasa had with his troupe. They talked about their school days, bickered along, and stretched both their muscles and vocal cords just like they did.

And whenever the lights dimmed down and the music started to build up from the speakers, their hearts resonated throughout their voices. The ways their voices resounded with charisma during their solos and came together at the chorus reminded him much of the way his own troupe performed together.

Tsukasa had seen some of Touya’s performances with his group; he kept all the Vivid Bad Squad’s tickets that Touya handed to him inside a drawer, tucked between other invitations from Leo/Need and printed photobooth pictures of the little escapades when Saki and he convinced Touya to come with them.

When the lights turn back on again, the first voice that raises up from their exhausted pants is Akito’s.

“That could've been better. An, make sure you sync up with Kohane properly during your parts, it's distracting both of you.” he explains, a bead of sweat falling from the side of his forehead. Tsukasa didn't notice any of those mistakes at first glance. They were the kind of small mistakes Rui would take notice of instantly, he feels, the kind of mistakes that could easily snowball into a catastrophe, “Touya, I think we can take a break and let them do their thing.”

Tsukasa doesn't consider himself a Touya expert by any means, but they spent enough time together for Tsukasa to recognize a worn out Touya anywhere. Not worn out in the exhausted sense. The thing about Touya is that no matter what, he always managed to keep his back straight and face his problems head-on. But the more Tsukasa looked at his eyes, the more Touya’s worries seemed to flow right in front of him.

Many people, including Touya, didn't seem to notice that he carried his heart on his sleeve. That his sincerity would show if you just looked at him for long enough.

His memories send him to a time where they were so small that they could barely reach the top of the countertop to get a singular cookie, a distant memory where he tried his very, very best trying to cheer him up with his shows and the mysterious picture books he found in his house.

Before his head starts working in circles again, trying to tell himself that this is all his fault, he walks to the place where Akito and Touya were sitting, next to the stage where An and Kohane practiced.

“Touya! My loyal fan number 2!” It's not the first time Tsukasa's talked to himself. In the end, he's another performer with perfectionism embed into his veins. Most of his free time was spent reciting his lines in front of himself and his imaginary audience. “I know you might feel like it, but you don't have to repay me for anything. Everything you did was out of your own volition. I'm just glad I helped you take those big steps towards what you really wanted; I'll always be proud of the person you are now, and I'm nothing but sure I'll be proud of the person you'll become.” 

And you know what, maybe Touya can't even hear him, but Tsukasa's also nothing but a fighter, “You're getting better at singing with your stomach instead of your throat, but I'll be more than glad to send you my specialized honey tea for sore throats if it gets too hard! Saki is close to mastering my mother’s honey tea recipe as well. Just know we’ll always welcome you with open arms in our house.”

At that time, something kind of weird happened.

Touya turns his head to his direction and looks at him. Tsukasa feels a chill run down his spine, a strange feeling of Déjà vu creeps at him. He forgot how nice it felt to be seen by somebody, to have your existence acknowledged by another person with a life as full as yours, with dreams and thoughts as full of light as darkness and every shade of gray that came in between.

Before Tsukasa can ask, An speaks, “We're done! Are you guys joining us?”

Touya blinks and rips his gaze away from Tsukasa to look at An as Akito hums, blocking his phone and looking at his more alert friend, “Touya? You alright? You look like you went through somethin’...”

He does, the eyes that were previously dimmed with worry now shone like a precious gem, bright and unwinding.

It was the sight that Tsukasa fought for whenever Touya’s parents left him at the Tenma Household for his piano lessons.

“Let's do it again, I’ll do it better this time.” he states with his shoulders high, turning to Akito with a speed that's honestly worrying.

Akito frowns for a mere second before smiling, “Let's go then, partner.”

It seems that not much has changed. Tsukasa remained unseen to others. But his head remains high when he leaves the practice room, and his steps feel like they carry some weight under them.

He looks down at his hands, gleaming. Touya might have not directed him a word, or even mentioned his name even once during that entire exchange.

Yet he feels seen.

With a newfound determination, he embarks on his new journey through the busy streets of Shibuya, he runs around pebbled paths covered with brown, measly leaves that move along with his steps yet don't break. He's nothing but air now, but soon enough he'll be able to raise a storm below his stance again.

The lights on the street turn green and, for some reason, he knows exactly where he's supposed to go.

Livehouse…

Tsukasa has a vague idea of what’s happening, but just to be sure, he hurries his steps along the crossing, skipping through gray blazers and black coats and listening as the city plays its lousy tune around him.

Livehouse… It was around here, surely.

Tsukasa braces through what feels like endless doors, stuck in a loop of mirrors and instruments he never touched in his life until he hears a distinct sound that makes him turn his head around so fast, he gets dizzy the second the adrenaline stops rushing.

When he passes through the door, he finds just the person he needed to see again.

He’d always admired the way her sister played the piano over at home. On their little piano stool, designed to hold only one person, either their mother, a small Tsukasa, or an even smaller Saki.

But the little Tenmas liked to come in pairs, and they took more space than was necessary.

“Saki, you don't have to force yourself.” Shiho says.

The quartet of constellations stands around a loomed over Saki, who’s left staring at her keyboard with her fingertips planted on the pure white keys.

“No, I want to do this,” she says, “I've been doing nothing but mope around and do nothing. I need to stop already.”

On the other side of her keyboard, Shiho sighs, “I've already told you it's okay to just mope around and do nothing, your big brother has disappeared out of thin air. That's a normal, human reaction.” she answers, stopping for a second to sigh again, “I can't even imagine how I’d feel if my sister just… faded. You can rest now; we can make up for lost time later.”

On her right, Honami nods, “Shiho-chan's right. We can stay here, or we could go out and eat somewhere until your shift starts…” Her hands come to a rest at Saki’s back, rubbing her back slowly, as if petting a small animal who could run away at any second. “Forcing yourself to keep going even when it’s all falling apart will end up wearing you down even further.”

“I know that, but… I still want to do this…”

“Saki…” Ichika mumbles, she stands not too far away from her as well, offering her silent support by standing close to her. She’s seen Saki cry plenty before, mostly about her own struggles and the things that plagued them when they struggled to reunite again. But she still isn’t quite sure what to do now other than offer her support along with her friends.

“I swear I can do this, Icchan.” Saki says, her voice shakes but it's final.

There’s a silent space next to her, one Tsukasa walks towards.

“I'm sorry I inflicted so much pain into you, I never meant to make you feel bad but somehow. I always mess it all up, don't I?” Tsukasa smiles, staring straight the clouds that obscures his sister’s eyes, “I'm sorry, I'll be a better big brother next time. I'll always stay by your side, and I’ll always support you, no matter where you are.”

His sister was not crying, but there was a shadow of worry that draped her face like a veil. Her eyebrows drew together, and her right foot jumped up and down, the same way they did that morning when he disappeared. Despite all of that, her hands kept their stay on the keys at her front, ready and willing.

“Saki, your wrists are in the wrong position,” Tsukasa can't help it, he reaches out. His hands grazed through Saki's, just as he expected them to, but he didn't let that stop him, “Remember what mom told us; on level with the keys, relax your body, let your fingertips play for you.”

He relaxes his wrists and plays a tune no one, not even him, can hear. It comes easy to him, just as loving his little sister came so easy. No matter how far away they were, no matter how many things came between them or how many petty fights they could get into, his arms would always be open to welcome his sister into a hug.

And before he moves back, back to thinking for him instead of her, he hears it.

A soft, glimmering melody of dust and plasma. A familiar heartbreaking tune that he played day and night while he waited for her to come back home and play. The same, simple song he requested Rui to replace when he performed his most difficult role to this day.

“Idiot, you're already the best big brother I could've wished for.”

Tsukasa finally sees the one thing that had been driving him forward all those years ago; those tiny specs of light that glimmered in her eyes whenever they managed to play through an entire song without erupting into laughter or getting into a fight over a missing beat. No matter what, he'd always make that little space on his piano stool for her to sit.

“Let’s do our best today, everyone!” Saki smiles, and the air feels lighter.

Shiho nods, pleased, “But please,” she takes out a small handkerchief from her pocket, signaling at the small tears that managed to accumulate in Saki’s eyes. “Be careful or you’ll get snot all over your keyboard,” Shiho smiles, it's small but to everyone else it's enough to clear rest of that tense air of their practice room.

“Honami, count for us.”

Tsukasa leaves after the first few notes of a bass reach his ears, smiling so wide his cheeks hurt after a while.

Tsukasa is not a celebrity, not yet at least, but the news of his disappearance carries over worryingly fast. Not much later, he sprints to Phoenix Wonderland to find his troupe friends and a pair of Ootori brothers surrounded by cameras and reporters standing right beside that scrubby wooden stage they liked to call theirs.

Under the lights that only turned on when nighttime came. Tsukasa sees Nene standing too close to Rui, hiding herself from the public as she used to do every so often. He sees, too, a small space between the colorful array of Emu and Rui’s clothes, a space fit for one person.

“Ootori-san!” a reporter calls. ‘There's at least three of them here,’ Tsukasa thinks adamantly, “Wonder Stage is a hot topic of discussion online because of Tenma’s sudden disappearance, what are your plans moving forward?”

“Phoenix Wonderland will remain open and ready to grant people smiles and leave with good memories,” Shousuke speaks, controlled and clear as he always is in front of everyone, “As for the state of the Wonder Stages’ scheduled performances, that's something that only the Wonder Stage cast knows for certain.”

Tsukasa stands alert. He'd not forgotten that their presence was big online. It started as their first Night Show ran, scared but committed to sending a message to anyone, everyone who could hear them, a message of hope and resistance that resonated with people and changed the mind of even those that seemed impartial. Their presence grew more and more after their promotional shows, with people coming from all over to take in the performances they put their hearts and souls into.

“Are there any plans of replacing Tenma-san’s role for the time being?”

It's unexpected enough to make his troupe tense up. Even the Ootori brothers seemed taken aback for a second before returning to their usual poker faces. The small space between Emu and Rui felt bigger, somehow.

Between the clicks of cameras, Rui breaks his silence, “Tenma-san’s presence as WonderlandsxShowtime’s Chairman and our fellow cast member is not something that can be replaced. Not now or ever.” he says as a matter of fact. He was always the one the others could rely on for formal speeches and stage narrations, his voice carrying enough conviction to turn heads around, “Our goal is to provide smiles to people all over the world as a team of four, that has not changed. So, please, if you see him, tell the authorities. Bring our Star back to us safe and sound.”

Rui always knew what to say to turn his stomach upside down. The shadows under his eyes were bigger than the last time he saw him, and he saw him just today, just a few hours ago sitting next to Nene. Tsukasa wonders if he skipped any meals besides that lunch. He wonders if Nene's is feeling nauseous under the eyes of so many cameras. He wonders if Emu, with her weird otherworldly senses, can feel that Tsukasa misses them just as much as they miss him. That he wants to come back to them with such urgency that he could curse at the night sky.

Before another person can ask more, Keisuke shuts them down, “Hey, the kid already answered all the questions you needed, let them be.”

Emu only finds her voice when the crowd starts to dissipate after they’ve all said their thanks, “Thank you, Keisuke-nii, Shousuke-nii.”

“No worries, just… take a break and let the adults take care of this for a second. You've already done enough.”

The rest of them don't say anything, even though Tsukasa can tell they're dying to do so.

The oldest Ootori might’ve caught onto their exhaust and, looking at the clock on his wrist, he sighs “It's getting late. Let us know when you want to leave, we'll drive you to your houses.”

With that, they're dismissed and the Ootori brothers leave them to their own accords, but the troupe finds it difficult to move from where they’re standing. Their feet feel heavy as they walk along the path to their changing rooms. They always divided themselves at this point since the changing rooms were separated by gender, Emu and Nene went to the left, and Rui and Tsukasa went to the right.

Emu stands by the middle of the path. She remembers, quite vividly, the first day that she and Tsukasa put on a show together on the Wonder Stage, how Tsukasa chose the right changing room in a heartbeat because 'A Star always starts his day off with the right foot!'. Nene and Rui chuckled when Emu unwrapped that little detail for them while eating together in the family restaurant, months after Tsukasa managed to drag Rui back to their troupe after their big fight.

Emu remembers how Tsukasa hid his embarrassment behind his confidence back then, and how he liked to do that sometimes. He felt the person he was back then was so different yet so identical to the one Emu met in that audition room, the one that shouted about his accomplishments in the loudest voice she’d ever heard but understood and shared the same desire as her, even if he’d subconsciously forgotten about it.

Rui lets out a deep sigh that Nene and Emu instantly catch, “Rui…”

“Nene,” his voice wobbles around the edges. It's getting harder for him not to crumble. “Nene, I want to see him.”

“Rui-kun…”

Hate is a strong word, but there are few words that manage to capture the feeling of helplessness in that envelops Emu’s heart when she watches Rui blink rapidly, holding back his tears.

“Emu,” Nene says again, whispery directed at her this time, “You don't have to hold back. We're here, we’ve got you.”

“But I want to be strong for Rui-kun, for Tsukasa-kun…” her voice trembles as well, breath coming to a halt when Nene sniffles next to her, “Nene-chan, don't, I can't see you cry–”

Tsukasa watches, with absent horror, how the house of cards topples over. It starts with Nene, and is followed by Emu and finally, by Rui.

He can’t stay here. Emu clenches her small fists on the back of Rui and Nene’s colorful stage clothes. There must be something he can do. Some kind of miracle he can perform that could show them that he was still there. If there was something he excelled at, it was making other people smile, there was no way he could fail them right now of all times.

I’m here. I’m here.

Their clothes don’t budge when he holds them, fitting himself into their little group hug hoping to provide at least a little amount of warmth, however much he could show them.

It’s not long before the warm drops cloud his vision, too, falling over his eyelids to the floor below them in rivets. There’s no way he can stop them and no way he would want to, even. He wants to be heard; he wants to feel their warmth next to him with such intensity it ached down on his body. He cries for them; he cries for himself and for all those little promises he keeps in his pockets, of providing nothing but happiness to those around him.

Something, he begs.

Something. Anything.

He swallows the ever-present lump in this throat and tries, “I wouldn’t go anywhere without you– I wouldn’t dare.”

Tsukasa, the small perfectionist he is, always feels it's nowhere near enough. His acting, his plays, the way he moves his arms when posing, the way his throat vibrates with his voice. After every successful performance, when the adrenaline had finally lowered, his heart remained hungry. He guesses it was a kind of hunger he could never completely quench, but it was so very present, so selfishly engrained into him.

It rises from inside him again and again, the need for more. Despite everything, he wanted to stay with them. He wanted so much.

Allow me to be selfish, allow me to ask for more.

A fiery light explodes out of his fingertips, finding a place along the stars in the sky above. It was something none of them expected, as tended to happen between them. Three pair of teary eyes look up at the sudden spectacle on top of their heads, eyes glimmering from the tears and from the bright shooting stars that travelled the skies for nothing but seconds before dissipating into the atmosphere. Tsukasa realizes the small circle of sorrows he’d created had stopped a bit too late into the show, and when he looks up from the space he made for himself between Rui and Nene, he also meets the bright lights in the night sky.

“A meteor shower, right now?” Nene manages to ask what seemed obvious, but no one could blame her from being flabbergasted. In between the light pollution, the unprecedented circumstances. It was so unlikely, so unbelievable and unreal––

Tsukasa, unbeknownst to himself, laughs.

What were they here for if it wasn’t for these small miracles?

Emu is the first to break from their trance and their group hug to soar forward, never too far away from Nene and Rui. Her hands fly to the corners of her mouth where they meet her tear-stained cheeks. Despite everything, she shouts, “Tsukasa-kun! Come back soon!”

Tsukasa holds onto her words and stays with them watching the stars for just a bit longer.

The rooftop’s closed down this week due to reparations (The pair of oddballs swears that it wasn’t their fault, Nene does not believe them one bit). For now, Rui and Tsukasa spend their lunches eating on the grassy plains of their school’s yard. Tsukasa bought over 2 picnic blankets because God forbid some bug made its way over to his lunch.

One of those sunny days, while brainstorming under a tree, Rui came to him with a question.

“Tsukasa-kun,” he'd started, and Tsukasa prepares himself to hear the most outstanding idea that he, without fault, will promise to accomplish, “If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to see it, does it make a sound?”

Huh, not what he expected.

“Is this a trick question? It does.”

“Not everything I tell you has to carry over an implication, Tsukasa-kun,” the tone of his voice sounds hurt, at least it does until Tsukasa looks at him, and Rui’s eyes do now waver not one bit, he’s about to complain about being deceived until Rui opens his mouth again, “Why do you think it does?”

Tsukasa stops watching the curve of Rui’s nose to look up at the sights of sunlight filtering through the leaves. But it's also a nice break from their usual routine. 

“Well, maybe something pushed that tree, maybe someone cut it down. If it's inside a forest, the animals around the tree will definitely hear it fall down. Isn't it what it's all about, anyway? The ecosystem will suffer if a part of it suddenly disappears.”

Rui makes a low hum of acknowledgement. Is his smile getting even bigger or is Tsukasa just imagining it? “So even if a human isn't there to hear it, it still happens?”

And Tsukasa thinks, ‘What a silly question.’

“Things always happen all around us that we don't see. Atoms and air and whatnot. It doesn't mean that they don't exist, does it?”

Rui lets out a giggle, "Tsukasa-kun's answer lies more in the ethical dilemma rather than the metaphysical, appropriately suited for someone like you."

“I don't know what most of those words mean.”

“Consider them a compliment,” Rui answers, Tsukasa doesn't hear any mischief in his voice that could betray those words, so he doesn't press on the subject. “Anyway, I've reviewed the script you sent me, I've only got a few pointers–“

A leaf falls on Rui's head at one point and Tsukasa stifles a laugh once he voices it to Rui.

Tsukasa knows that if at least this tree disappeared, he would try his best to remember it from this day forward.

The good thing about being invisible is that, technically, nothing can hurt him if he goes outside late at night. He leaves that disturbing knowledge on the side and listens to the night’s sweet lullaby as he takes slow steps along the crosswalk, one clear destination in mind.

He could not get used to the chill feeling of passing through the door as if it was nothing but air. Once he became the world-famous Star he so desired; would someone believe him if he wrote this in his expected autobiography? Would he get deemed as insane? He’s already the first half of the Weirdo 1, 2 Finish, his name brought dread to his teacher’s ears much to his dismay… maybe his hypothetical future fans will understand his struggles and relate to this situation.

Tsukasa expects to find a sleep deprived Rui working tirelessly on his desk. That’s how he found him far too often when he decided to pay him a visit.

So, it’s no wonder his brows furrow when the garage is completely empty save for the unmoving eyes of the robots occupying space and the low, endless buzz that came from Rui’s computer.

Too many possibilities come to his mind that dizzy him, but a gut feeling tells him to keep going and he passes all the mess from the floor to the main entrance door.

Rui, despite what it seemed at first glance, did have a proper room. One that was just next to his parent’s room in their actual house, but Rui had always preferred solitude when working on his inventions, so he relocated to the garage at a young age and did not look back. His previous room is nothing but storage now, a messy array of metal and cables around a singular one-sized bed whose sheets haven't been changed in a long time because he didn’t mind it too much. “No one sleeps there anymore.” He’d said.

That –and like many things in Rui’s life– changed once he met Tsukasa. The first night they slept together in Rui’s house, they encountered the bed problem. And they could not sleep on Rui’s couch, no matter how many human Tetris positions Rui presented him.

So, they relocated to that bedroom forgotten by Rui and his parents, and Tsukasa, also, did not look back. Although the mess of cables and metals stood untouched, the sheets would be cleaned at least once per week so they could sleep together instead of having to buy futons to sleep on the garage’s floor.

The next morning while having breakfast, a bashful Rui apologized for not accommodating his star properly and Tsukasa told him not to worry. As half-awkward as it was, he –somehow– never slept so soundly in his 17 years of living, cramped, tight and surrounded by Rui’s arms and a colorful array of things Rui loved and refused to throw out.

Tsukasa didn’t think it was a romantic gesture, not in the slightest. The only references he had about romance consisted in mangas he read and borrowed from his sister and the shows he watched for character studies. 

But maybe he had underestimated his star charm, because that same morning he learned that Rui’s kisses could be as warm and sweet as the tea he liked to have for breakfast.

He doesn’t need to, but he still leaves his shoes by the wooden entrance; the usual creaking greets him like an old friend.

“So even if a human isn't there to hear it, it still happens?”

Tsukasa finds that he’s a bit shaped like the people that loved, love, and will love him. And the people around him are a bit shaped by him, too. There would never be enough space in his heart to accommodate the favors he owes to them for caring and loving him. That tree was, too, shaped by the other trees around them. The birds will miss its comfort, the animals will miss its shadow, and the Earth will mourn yet another loss.

They will still remember.

“It doesn't mean that they don't exist, does it?”

Tsukasa finds Rui’s form covered by a singular blanket. He’s paler than usual but he’s sleeping peacefully, at last. The mere sight makes Tsukasa want to doze off, to stop worrying about what waits for him tomorrow for a few hours and swim in the mundane nothingness of the back of his eyelids. Yawning, he scurries his way next to Rui where he finds himself cramped and tight once again. Getting a double sized bed for them wasn’t a bad idea, he quickly notes in his head.

Something that he’d learned about Rui, even before they started their relationship, was that his body was slightly colder than the usual temperature. To combat that, Tsukasa would let himself be held while they slept, fulfilling a weird act of human furnace. He only realizes that he could feel the slight warmth of Rui’s body when under his covers, his heart beats faster with the realization that he could touch him. He could touch him––

“It's you, isn't it?” Rui manages to whisper, not quite believing his own words. His eyes don’t open yet he doesn’t waste a second to wrap his arms around Tsukasa. “Am I still dreaming?” he continues, dozily diving his nose into Tsukasa’s hair. His lips find the top of Tsukasa’s head, where his bangs started to fall over his forehead.

“You aren't,” Tsukasa whispers back. There’s so much he must do, he needs to message his parents, his sister, his friends. He needs to scream at the world that he will keep trying his best, that he would thank everyone that believes in him, that he would repay his favors and strive to be the best version of himself.

That it was okay to want more. That, on days he doesn’t feel like shining, it was okay to ask to be held for a little while. No matter how high he flies, if he fell, someone would always catch him.

But his eyes keep drifting on and off, his phone is far away from his hands, and fatigue is clouding his last conscious thoughts. Letting himself be held, he whispers “I'm back.”

The clock strikes twelve on the 17^th of May, and Tsukasa feels loved.