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When he wakes, it's with a chill that summer should not welcome.
Kazunari shivers. A threat, a blow to his joyful appearance. He hears himself inhale shakily. His head buzzes, far below the waters of ocean and summer breezes.
He blinks wearily. He sees the decorations of triangles around the dark living room, a blanket with fluffy pink hearts tucked around his body. To his left, a basin with a washcloth left on the coffee table.
He squints. He hears shuffling to his right, on the other side of the couch where his eyes cannot see. Not that he can, his head hurt too much to move. A door creaks open, gentle knocking, much hushing, more whispering.
"How...he?"
"...overworked...again..."
"...sleep...idiot."
He lets his eyes slide shut as his head shoots another spark of pain. More shuffling, he can barely hear over the static in his head.
A cool hand sweeps his bangs aside.
He cracks open an eye. Muku gasps. A collective scrambling, then more faces appear in Kazunari's vision.
"Nari!." He blinks to find the Summer Troupe smiling down at him. "How're you feeling?" Tenma voices.
A beat. Kazunari forces a grin. His signature laugh, it comes out hollow, almost interrupted by a hiss as his headache surges.
"I'm alright!" he says, trying to prop himself up. A pair of hands shoves him back down.
"Don't start acting like the stupid hack," Yuki, despite his harsh bite that earned a retort from the ginger somewhere, looked strangely concerned.
"Do you remember what happened, Kazunari?" Muku was kneeling next to the couch now, fluffy pink hair writhing with well-written concern.
"I..." Kazunari tries not to let his smile slip. "Sorry, buddy! My brain's overcooked, haha, like the game!"
Silence.
"You idiot," Yuki gasps, exasperated. "You overworked yourself and fainted during training, gave the hack a big fright."
"Hey!"
Kazunari at least, has the decency to look sheepish. "Ah..."
Muku places a hand on Kazunari's arm. "Misumi wouldn't stop giving you triangles..."
Code for Kazunari had even worried Misumi.
"I'm sorry for causing so much trouble," the trendsetter whispers. He can feel his smile slipping, his facade slowing. It isn't working, he grips the blanket in a fist, his smile isn't making them smile. His friends-
"Kazunari?"
He looks up to 4 pairs of worried eyes.
"Ah...sorry," he tries to laugh. It comes out nervous, weak.
"You're never trouble, Kazunari," Misumi says brightly. "You're just a sharper triangle sometimes."
"...Yeah," Tenma leans over the side of the couch. "What he said- Ouch! Yuki! What the hell!"
"What he means to say," Yuki rolls his eyes at Tenma's whines, "is that you have to rely on us."
"You know you can rely on us, right?" Muku asks softly.
Kazunari blinks. "Of- Of course I know! I'm-"
"Then when was the last time you slept?"
Kazunari freezes.
Muku's smile becomes sad. "Please answer Yuki's question, Nari."
"...The day before yesterday," Kazunari whispers.
"...Why?"
A pause. Kazunari is tempted to laugh again, to pose some ridiculous slang term and make up a grandiose excuse. But upon seeing his troupe's expressions, all twisted with concern he feels he does not deserve, he sighs.
"I was working on Mankai's website for our upcoming show. I wanted to give the webpage a new look."
"But our current look is already very triangular! You designed that too!"
Kazunari shrugs. "I wanted to make something fresh, for motivation for all of us."
"And you forgot to sleep?" Yuki grills.
"...Perhaps."
"Answer the question," Muku prods again.
"Okay, I was...a little stressed out by the rehearsals cause I thought I was really unslay at my role...and I...I thought that if I did a new thing..." Kazunari trailed off.
"That you'd have a reason to belong?" Tenma said.
Kazunari nods, bowing his head. What a way to hit the nail on the head.
"Nari..." Misumi looks sad now. "Just because you're a sharper triangle, doesn't mean I love you any less. You're still a triangle!"
Muku laughs. "Yeah! You don't have to prove yourself in any way to us, Nari."
Yuki shakes his head. "Hypocrite. You told me yourself 'You don't have to prove your existence to the world', and here you are, thinking that you have to show you belong with us."
Kazunari blinks. The words press into him like Homare's marshmallows. He's sinking into a fluffy cloud of shock, of joy, of reproaching the many intrusive thoughts over the past two days as he stayed up, trying, desperately, to keep his friendships from slipping away, to belong.
Tenma is kneeling next to Muku now. "Look," he says, "I'm not great at saying stuff- Don't hit me, Yuki. But, we're not going anywhere, alright? We're not leaving."
Kazunari stares into Tenma's face. His heart cracks and heals. He can't see a lie.
"I'm sorry," it comes out broken this time.
Tenma hugs him. Kazunari lets his insides melt, messy tears escaping his eyes. He's ugly, he knows, his face far too scrunched for a pretty selfie.
He buries himself in Tenma's shoulder. He feels hands in his hair, on his arms and back, as the rest of his troupe joins the hug.
Maybe tonight, he doesn't need to be trendy, doesn't need to do picture perfect smile to seek a reason to be here.
Tonight, and for many nights more, Kazunari will learn to rely, to believe, and to finally smile for his friends, not for the camera.