Chapter Text
Heavy footsteps echoed in HiMERU's ears, filling his empty, numb mind.
The door came into view. He exited the hospital.
It was peaceful, too peaceful. The sky a bright blue; the breeze was brushing through the leaves, caressing his cheeks, and disappearing into the air. The cars kept moving on the road, the people were walking on the street, as usual. Life continued on. Nothing seemed to change, and yet, there was a change— one that seemed so insignificant.
Kaname’s condition was improving. In other words, he would be awake soon.
To the outside world, the news was nothing. In fact, it couldn’t be considered a change— for they didn’t know. None of them knew the story of how HiMERU was reborn; and they never would.
Initially, that was the plan.
Background noise, static. His own footsteps were the only thing ringing in his ears. His legs felt heavy, yet so light, as if they weren’t his anymore. He was moving in accordance with a set road, one that he had followed many times before— exiting the hospital, taking the left turn, going straight, and so on— until the apartment building where he used to live came into view.
‘Live’ was an overstatement, actually. There was dust flying around the place, and HiMERU couldn’t help but sneeze. Blank, white walls stared at him, too similar to the ones caging his brother. No decorations, nothing but basic furniture. It was unnervingly similar to a suite, but even suites didn’t look as abandoned, lacking in personality as this.
It was as if his existence was too light, too fleeting to leave behind a mark. Sometimes, it seemed that he had never really existed at all. The story of ■■ remained shrouded in mystery, out of fear, caution, and shame— it was hidden behind the various roles he played throughout his life, serving as a temporary reason for him to live.
That reason to live was HiMERU. And what happened next, when it was returned to its rightful owner? Before, he would keep taking on new identities, continuing the cycle— but now?
He wasn’t sure anymore.
His existence was light, but it was an existence, nonetheless. No matter how he tried to throw away everything, how hard he tried to shove his own feelings away from the matter— he still existed.
Not HiMERU. But him, ■■.
He was human. He had always been. It was a subconscious desire to reach out, to want to be understood, and ‘involuntarily’, he did. The red strings that tied him to where he was proved to be difficult to cut. To him, they were hindrances, but was that really the case?
He couldn’t really escape. But there was this need to run away, bubbling inside him. There was a need to back down, to get away from it all, to prepare himself, until he was finally ready to face reality. It was the first time, in a very long time, had he ever felt unsafe, vulnerable, and exposed like this. He wasn’t ready to lose his last meaning of existence. He wasn’t ready to face the reactions of those around him, when they found out.
Which took him into this situation— booking two plane tickets, back to where he used to be. But before he set off, there was one thing he must do.
He hadn’t been able to witness Tatsumi’s pained expression yet. He hadn’t been able to see the face Tatsumi made, when he finally realized. It was a guilty pleasure of his.
(And an odd sort of comfort, too— the thought that he wasn’t the only one suffering. He was accompanied. He wasn’t alone.)
With that in mind, he sent a message to Tatsumi.
—
It was late at night.
A plane took off, caught in HiMERU’s peripheral vision. His flight was the last one. His phone lit up, showing the time. It was about time he left this place— temporarily, of course. He leaned back on his seat, the same moment his phone rang. A notification— Tatsumi’s message.
He finally responded, after hours. HiMERU knew he was bad with technology, but this was rather… late. But if he had just seen the message, then, wouldn’t that also mean, Tatsumi had little time to react to it?
A small smirk crept into his face. He was sure of it— the sense of alarm, confusion, and helplessness that Tatsumi must have felt. He imagined Tatsumi losing composure; after all, the truth had been revealed to him so suddenly, and the only person who could give him an explanation was leaving.
An hour. There was only an hour for Tatsumi to arrive at the airport— if he could.
His smile faltered when he saw the message, however.
[I’m coming.]
“HiMERU-san?”
HiMERU’s head snapped back, his eyes widening. There stood Tatsumi, his breathing a bit erratic. His hair and clothes were disheveled, an obvious indication of what had happened.
“You seemed to be in a hurry.” HiMERU commented, standing up from his seat. “HiMERU isn’t leaving until an hour.”
Though he didn’t move just yet, he faced Tatsumi. There was a confused edge to his frown, a rare sight. He stared, unblinking, at the person in front of him, no longer with those gentle, friendly eyes when interacting with others. It was close to the way one looked at a stranger, or at something out of comprehension.
But there was no shock. No surprise, none of that. Instead, it was replaced by something more complicated, akin to that of disappointment; and anger, just a bit. But to whom? To HiMERU, for hiding the truth from him for far too long? Or to himself, for not realizing the truth, even though it was so noticeable? For not facing the truth, even though it was right in front of him? Even though, he knew?
Perhaps, a mix of all.
“How did you know HiMERU was here? He said nothing about that.”
“I asked Ibara-san.” Tatsumi replied, eyes narrowing at HiMERU.
“You would go that far?”
“It’s just a question.” Tatsumi shook his head. A sigh escaped his lips, before he continued, tone seemingly never changed— it was still gentle, still calm, typical of him. But he sounded exhausted. “You really are leaving, then?”
“Yeah.” HiMERU curtly said. The answer took the other by surprise, it seemed— seeing how his eyes widened, before returning to their earlier state.
“There are people waiting for you.”
A beat of silence. It took a bit of effort to hide his expression. It took more effort not to lash out, to refute— that, no, he wasn’t what Tatsumi had indicated him to be.
“HiMERU is just taking a temporary break. He’s leaving no one.”
Tatsumi nodded. HiMERU waited, patiently, for him to say something, to comment on his actions— but he didn’t. It was irritating. It was irritating— how he acted like he understood HiMERU. He didn’t, and HiMERU felt the need to drill that into his head. That he knew nothing at all, about him.
“HiMERU just needs a breather. That’s all.”
But Tatsumi looked unconvinced.
“Are you really not leaving us?”
“No!” HiMERU snapped. He shot daggers at him; voice raised, starting to break. “HiMERU isn’t— Tatsumi Kazehaya, the audacity of you to think that—”
He stopped himself. Though not much, there were still people around— and HiMERU had caught attention. He inhaled, exhaled, regaining composure. “Nevermind that,” he sighed, “HiMERU lost control of himself.”
If they were alone, he would’ve acted on his urges, maybe— but he wasn’t, at the moment. It was unpleasant, how there was an ugly feeling rising up in his chest; and it was unpleasant, too, that Tatsumi’s words seemed to imply that he felt nothing about the bonds he had made. That he was so heartless, unemotional to just leave everything behind. He couldn’t.
Normally, Tatsumi would apologize. But he wasn’t saying even a word after HiMERU’s outburst. He only stood there; staring. There was that look, again— one filled with interest, a desire to understand. A need for an explanation, but HiMERU wasn’t going to give him one. Not yet.
He walked towards Tatsumi, certain that he wouldn’t say anything, after a long moment of staring. Hand extended a plane ticket, and here he finally saw a slight change in Tatsumi’s expression— confusion.
“HiMERU wants you to accompany him.”
Tatsumi blinked. “Huh?”
It was no surprise that he’d react like that. It was sudden to him, after all. Not to HiMERU, though. “You’re going to travel with HiMERU.” He said, glancing at his phone, checking the time. “There’s still an hour left. That’s enough time to notify the higher-ups of your break.”
He wasn’t certain of his own words. He knew the risk of deciding on something so abruptly, too— the harm it would inflict on their idol careers.
And yet, that did not stop HiMERU. He scoffed, wondering what his previous self would think if he saw him acting the way he did. Selfish, yes; careless, yes. He had become what he didn’t understand, disliked even. But he reassured himself, with the last shreds of confidence he retained: It’ll be alright.
He had nothing to lose, anyway.
“Isn’t this too sudden?” Tatsumi said. He looked at HiMERU with uncertainty, with a glimmer of uneasiness.
Sudden? Of course. But the question required no verbal answer. The ticket was still staring at Tatsumi, urging him to make a decision.
“Don’t you want to find out?”
He accepted the ticket.
—
HiMERU would’ve never thought that one day, he would be sitting next to Tatsumi Kazehaya, out of all people, on a plane, flying back to where he once lived.
“Do you want any drinks, HiMERU-san?” Tatsumi poked his shoulder. “Coke, perhaps?”
A stewardess was standing next to his seat, pushing a drink trolley. HiMERU stared at it for a while, a short battle happening in his mind about what to answer. To continue with his act, or not?
“HiMERU doesn’t like coke.”
The answer stunned Tatsumi, but he said nothing about it. For now, at least. There was a magazine in his hands, and he looked calm, enjoying himself. It confused HiMERU— how, despite what had happened earlier, he could keep his temper like that. He knew how curious, how much Tatsumi wanted him to explain, to make sense of everything. And yet, he sat there. No words were exchanged, no questions were asked. It was as if he didn’t want to pry into other people's businesses.
It didn’t make sense. In fact, that mentioned business had to do a lot with Tatsumi, actually. He should’ve asked about it.
It was quiet. The city below, sparkling with lights, was a sight worth witnessing— but he couldn’t care less about that.
“Aren’t you worried?”
“Huh?” Tatsumi tilted his head, pondering the question for a while. It took him a moment to understand what HiMERU was referring to. “I’m sure ALKALOID will be fine without me.”
“What about you? Your fans wouldn’t be happy, would they?”
“That’s true.” Tatsumi nodded. “But there’s no going back now, is there? I can say the same for you, too— aren’t you worried about your fans?”
That succeeded in shutting HiMERU’s mouth. He considered refuting with snarky comments— but he didn’t. Interacting with Tatsumi reminded him of how much of a hypocrite he was. It was tiring.
“Why did you agree to join HiMERU on this flight?”
“You bought tickets. You thought of me when you were buying them, no?” Tatsumi sighed. “It’s like everything has been planned by you. From my arrival here, to ending up on this flight.”
“As expected,” HiMERU scoffed. There was sarcasm, dripping in the way he spoke. “You really know HiMERU well, don’t you?”
“No,” Tatsumi shook his head, eyes casting downwards, “I don’t.”
HiMERU would much prefer it if Tatsumi was angry. He would appreciate Tatsumi lashing out at him, rather than this. Did he not feel any anger, now knowing that he was fooled?
He was hiding his emotions again, and it was rather irritating to see.
“You’re… attached to them. Crazy:B, I mean.” Tatsumi commented, softly. “When I met you just now, my first impression was that you’re going to disappear at any moment now. Which is why I thought that you’d leave them, and move on.”
“But I was wrong, weren’t I?” A faint chuckle escaped from his lips, and he sighed. “I’m sorry. I know nothing about you at all. You…”
He gazed at HiMERU, curiously, and asked, his voice quiet, “Who are you, really?”
There was a moment of them gazing at each other; silence.
HiMERU let out a small laugh, a ghost of a smile on his face, surprising Tatsumi.
“Find it out yourself.”