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Ryou loved seeing Momo on pain meds. Drowsy. Dazed. Defenseless.
He’d arranged for a private room in a hospital that owed a lot to Tsukumo, and requested that only he and the medical staff could enter. (And that he could be alone with Momo, of course.)
Momo was too out-of-it to recognize him at first, looking into nothing with blank, confused eyes as Ryou leaned over him. But then his attention seemed to catch on something— and he could see Ryou then. He twisted away, almost falling off the bed, and put his hands protectively over his head.
“Don’t…”
“Don’t what, Momo ?” This was what Momo really thought of him, then. He inspired fear.
Ryou liked that, but with one condition. He wanted to be feared and loved.
Momo was curled up, guarding himself, pulling sheets around him. He muttered hazily “Wow… ‘m dreaming, ‘m nightmaring…”
Ryou walked around the bed and sat down so his face could be level with Momo’s. Momo’s eyes were closed tight, his arms were crossed up in front of him and he was tugging on his hair with one of his hands, and he was crying.
Ryou watched a tear slowly roll off of Momo’s eyelash and caught it on his finger. Lick. It tasted salty.
The next day, Momo was more awake but no more sensible. Ryou walked in and said “Hello, Momo,” and Momo said “Hi, ‘s me, I’m Momo-chan! I’m the fun friend to everyone.”
“Are you? Tell me a joke, then.”
“Okay! Momo-chan’s got you. Okay. Cats have… cats have four…” He lost the thread. “I’m tired.”
Ryou pulled up a chair and sat intently watching Momo.
“I don’t remember what happened yesterday,” Momo confided in him. “I think I was on drugs. ‘Member what happened before that, though… They said… and then I said… ‘nd I fell… You’re Ryou-san.”
“Yes. We’ve got a great comedy routine together~”
“I don’t like you,” Momo said.
So plain. So obvious. …But Momo was drugged. He didn’t know what he was saying. They were friends, close friends.
And even if they weren’t, what did he care? Momo was his now. They could do anything Ryou wanted together.
On the third day, Momo’s mind was either blurry enough to not be afraid, or clear enough to hide it. He’d been watching a bad movie on the hospital TV, told Ryou how bad it was, and sat up in bed curiously watching as Ryou did shadow puppets on the wall to entertain him.
“You know… wanna know something?” he eventually said.
“Of course!” Ryou said cheerily.
“Alright. Come over here. We’re having a sleepover and I’m going to tell you a secret.”
A secret from Momo, how exciting. Ryou sat down next to him on the hospital bed with a creak of metal.
“Kay. I like… oh, I forgot. I like a lot of people. I like Mitsuki, I like Ryuu, I like Maneko-chan… Oh! I like Yuki. That’s my secret.”
…
“He’s so handsome. And so cool. But sometimes he fails at things. That’s what I like the most, ‘cause I never got to see it as a fan.”
“Momo,” Ryou said, slow and measured, “I’m going to kill you.”
Momo looked at him, confused.
“I’ll yank out everything this hospital’s got feeding into you, and I’ll unwrap your casts and pull your arm and leg out of their sockets, and then I’ll push you out of this window. And then I’ll get some people to kill Yuki.”
Look at his expression change. Slowly, a delayed reaction, like a particularly stupid animal. He looked puzzled first, then sad, then very scared; and he retreated from Ryou and shakily gripped the bedpost.
“Just kidding!” Ryou said.
In an average interaction, that speech would have intimidated Momo, but then he would bounce back after Ryou’s line and pretend it was a joke with him. This time, though, he just stared at Ryou, and sniffled sadly like a child.
Ryou wished he hadn’t mentioned Momo’s partner; it would have been interesting to see if he would react like that if it was just him being threatened, if the drugs he was on were enough to trip the buried survival instinct in his brain. But he’d felt vindictive.
“I forget stuff when it happens,” Momo said, after a while. “My leg was bad, but wasn’t… not this bad. How come you’re here, Ryou-san? Has anyone else come? I can’t remember, the doctors gave me so much medication.”
“No one’s come yet.”
“Oh… alone with you, haha, that’s kinda scary.”
“It is?”
“Yeah,” Momo said, but he didn’t look scared anymore. He must’ve forgotten what Ryou said; instead of cowering, he was back to lying on his back, looking up blankly at the room’s popcorn ceiling. Slowly, his eyes fluttered closed.
Ryou liked watching him sleep, too.
After a few minutes, he put his feet up on his chair and pulled out his phone, logging out of Momo’s Rabbitchat account and entering Touma’s password.
—
Touma’s throat was bruised in the shape of a hand, and still felt sore— and painful, when he tilted his head to the side or really moved it at all.
“I’m going to kill him,” Tora said, meaning Yuki.
“Let me know when you try,” Mina said. “I’ll come to enjoy the show.”
Touma was trying to write a message on his phone, but his hands were shaking and he didn’t really want to do it in public either (and not while waiting for Ryou-san). He still wasn’t sure if he was making the right choice. It could— could be good, to stay and spy from inside or something. But it felt like— if he stayed in ZOOL, he’d be in danger. If he left, he’d still be in danger, but he could run. If he confronted Ryou, maybe it’d do something?
(“Do you want a switchblade, Midou-san?”
“Damn. Sure.”
“Those are allowed here?? My classmate brought one to school the other day and got detention for a week.” )
What he was doing first was sending an email to his parents. It told them to be careful, that bad things might happen to them and that shady people might come looking for them. Maybe Ryou would make them lose their jobs or something, he didn’t know how powerful he was, and he couldn’t guard against that, but at least he could protect them from— from being hurt, physically; those two guys had each put a hand on Momo’s shoulder and ushered him out and he’d looked small and vulnerable even as he smiled and waved at Touma.
He finished writing it and— with the unavoidable worry of “what will my family think”— sent it.
Time for the next step. Hey guys, I think I might quit ZOOL. God— he couldn’t say that! Where would he even go?
…Who would he have left? Not Tora, Mina, Haru; no matter how cold they might be, he couldn’t lose them— and not Ryou-san, who used to be nice.
Maybe just warning his family was okay.
He’d tried to find out what happened to Momo from Yuki (since Yuki had gone to find him). That was when Yuki had hurt him, and in that moment Touma had really thought he was gonna die. But a member of Idolish7 had come in and made Yuki let him go.
The other members of ZOOL had found him on the ground, breathing fast and unable to stop, curled in on himself. Mina and Tora had helped him up, and Haru had held his hand until he calmed down.
“...Why’re you guys here?”
“We’re all here. We’re doing a show together.”
“No, I mean…”
“Did Re:vale’s Yuki-san do this to you?” Mina asked.
“Yeah— I mean, but he didn’t make me panic like that. It’s my fault.”
“Your fault,” Mina repeated slowly, tasting the words.
“No, really.”
“Tell us what happened, then!” Haru said.
Touma felt nauseous. He stared down at the ground, shoulders tense. “I can’t…”
Torao put his hand under Touma’s chin and tilted it up. “Calm down. Look at me.”
This broke Touma out of his anxiety because it was such a weird thing for someone to do. He pushed Torao away and asked: “Do you do that on girls?!”
“Yeah?”
“...Does it work?”
“Why wouldn’t it?”
“Anyway. I’m fine now.” Touma had smiled, genuinely happy that they cared. “Thanks, guys.”
He’d thought they’d believed him, but now Tora and Mina were deep in conversation about how to stab Yuki (wait, how had they escalated so far?). He didn’t want them to antagonize either of them— Yuki or Ryou— it didn’t feel safe.
Just then, he got a message notification on his phone. At first, he thought it was from his parents, then he saw the name. Tsukumo Ryou.
Touma-kun~
I was never very close with my family, so I guess I don’t get the need to keep in touch with them? ┐(￣ヘ￣;)┌ It’s a bit annoying to see other people always messaging and talking about their parents. Personally, if mine died, I wouldn’t care much.
Anyway, come to my office at 5pm today. Don’t be late <3
—
White sheets. Blurry walls. A pounding in his head, slowly fading. Everywhere else felt numb. He drifted in and out of consciousness; for a while, the world moved all around him, then froze again. He had the vague impression of waking up, saying things, doing things; being happy, laughing at something, feeling afraid. He forgot those moments quickly, though.
Until one day, he came to with the sharp clarity of pain.
The last thing he could remember was getting blackout drunk— he looked down at himself and saw a cast, bandages. Ryou must’ve pushed me off… I survived? Am I in the hospital?
He didn’t think he was. He was in a little bedroom, lying in a wide bed with a dresser next to it. There was an abstract painting on the wall— the kind someone would put up if they wanted vague decoration that didn’t mean anything. It seemed familiar… Shit. He knew where he was. Ryou’s guest room.
He needed to get out of here. He really, really, needed to get out of here.
He tried to get up, but his body felt numb and difficult to control. While he was trying to figure out how much he could move, he heard the doorknob turn.
“Ah, good morning, Momo. How are you feeling?”
Don’t make him angry. You don’t know what the situation is yet, so don’t say anything that he might not like.
“I feel like I had a good night’s sleep!” Momo said. He could move his arms and part of his upper body, and he stretched to show Ryou just how well he’d slept. “I like this room.” He looked up at Ryou innocently. “But why am I here? I don’t remember anything.”
He was 100% sure that he was there because Ryou had pushed him off the balcony. He was injured enough that he didn’t think anything else could have happened, and of course, of course Ryou wouldn’t want to let him go.
Ryou knelt by his side and took his hands. His expression suddenly looked very sincere in a very unnerving way, since Ryou was never sincere. “Momo… do you remember what happened with Re:vale?”
Momo didn’t know where Ryou was going with this, but Re:vale meant Yuki and Ryou probably knew it meant Ban and Momo wanted him to get that name out of his mouth. Still, he had to play along, so he said: “What are you talking about?”
“...Yuki found his old partner, they started Re:vale over again together, and you…” He gestured. “The hospital thought it might be better to put you in the care of someone who knows you. Momo, don’t ever do something like that again.”
This passion and sincerity felt like such an act. But Ryou didn’t normally lie like this, did he? He lied ostentatiously. Momo was a little confused on what he was saying, anyway.
“Are you saying—” Momo remembered he was playing like he didn’t remember anything, and changed his tone from accusative to something sweet and sad, “W-what are you saying? That I… I did this to myself?”
Ryou nodded sadly. “After Yuki abandoned you, I don’t know what you were thinking, but next thing I knew, the hospital was calling me, saying ‘His primary contact wouldn’t show up, can you come and talk to us about him? He’s still actively suicidal’.”
In no universe would Ryou be his second emergency contact, right? He’d been talking to Ruri a lot more recently, and he’s sure he put her down after Yuki.
But his old paperwork was more dicey. It had been a while since he looked at his medical forms. Maybe… maybe there was something there.
Nope. He’d met Ban-san, he’d talked to Ban-san, Ban-san was now the kind of person who told Momo to look at a spreadsheet he’d made and explained in detail how elegantly it worked when Momo didn’t understand. He wasn’t interested in reforming the real Re:vale.
But wasn’t it too good to be true?
Didn’t Yuki love Ban with all his heart?
Ryou was watching Momo with an intense, hard gaze. Momo wanted to get out of there more than anything, but he wondered. If Ryou-san was really now the only person left for him.
No way. Their anniversary had been six months ago, and he remembered everything that had happened since then. Ryou’d tried to get him to get information out of Yamato and he hadn’t, the Izumi brothers had stayed over at his apartment, Yamato had come clean, they’d signed onto Friends Day and Yuki had almost died from writing a song in twenty-four hours, ZOOL had formed, Trigger had been slandered and left Yaotome Productions… Ryou had taken over as Tsukumo company president and been really active. He and Yuki had gone to a yakiniku place and Yuki had poked a bell pepper on the grill with tongs until it fell into the fire and created an explosion of sparks that Momo, panicked, threw a glass of water on; and then the waiter came over and told them off with a strained politeness eerily reminiscent of Okarin on three hours’ sleep. He couldn’t make that up! Why would he hallucinate Mitsuki throwing away all his fish?
That actually did feel like something that would be a recurring dream of his, but that wasn’t the point.
“What are you thinking about?”
About you, Ryou-san. Definitely not about someone else that you don’t hate yet. “I’m just so… did I really do that? W… what’s Yuki’s partner doing now? Where was he?”
“First, why didn’t you ever tell me his full name? His name’s Banri Oogami. He had run away to a different country and was drowning in medical debt.”
“R-really?”
“He’s awful.” Ryou chopped his hand down onto the bedside table with intensity like a chef’s knife. “He barely even considered you.”
Didn’t that seem a little more realistic than Ban being there the whole time? Than Ban just giving up Re:vale like that?
“What day is it?”
“It’s been a month since you jum— since your anniversary. May seventeenth. You were in the hospital for a long time, on pain medication, and you had to have surgery. Don’t worry, though, I paid for it.”
Wow, I’m in your debt again, Ryou-san. To Momo, it was October; there were no windows in the guest room, though. He struggled again to stand.
Ryou winced. “Momo…”
“W-what is it?”
“You’ve mostly healed, but…” Ryou passed him a medical document. “The doctors said you probably won’t be able to walk again.”
—
Yuki lay in his apartment, a pillow over his head, the lights off.
Momo had been missing for four weeks. After he’d made Touma confess, Yuki had gone to Momo’s apartment, where he’d been greeted with the smell of alcohol and stacks of empty bottles.
Desperately searching everywhere, he'd finally gone downstairs, and found blood underneath the balcony. Scrape marks to the side of the road, where then any car could have parked.
He’d called the cops, who said they were looking, but hadn’t done anything. Yuki suspected that they were in Tsukumo’s pocket.
Someone knocked on the door.
Yuki wouldn’t ever open up that door to anyone again. He’d just end up with more people to grieve.
“So Re:vale is essentially dead,” Kaoru decided cruelly when Rinto returned to report his last failed attempt. “Trigger’s situation is only getting worse, people hate idols now because of all the drama, and Tsukumo’s also bought up the prominent female idol groups. Our last independent bastion is probably Idolish7.”
Tsumugi smiled sheepishly. “We’ve gotten some good work opportunities, at least…”
“But not that many,” Yamato pointed out. “Not as many as we should be getting with all the gaps. Did you hear that ZOOL refused to be cast in a drama recently?”
Gaku nodded. “They weren’t getting paid enough, or they thought the script was bad, or something like that.”
“Takanashi-san, maybe you could do some more concerts, or star in an independent drama?” Rinto suggested.
“That’s a good idea, but we can’t do something with all seven of us right now. Rokuya-san is in Northmeir.”
Oh, that explained why only six of Idolish7 were there today, Rinto thought. (Their little group was made up of Idolish7, Trigger, Tsumugi, Banri, him and Kaoru. Occasionally, Idolish7’s president would join in their meetings, and usually came up with some cryptic but workable solution to their current issue. Less often, Kujo Takamasa would join, and mostly succeeded in creating a weird energy in the room— though he was a genius of a producer.)
(It was strange to meet like this, anxiously, behind closed doors.)
(Momo had been disappeared, without a trace.)
“That’s deeply unprofessional,” Tenn said to Tsumugi. “Why is he overseas right now?”
“That’s… That’s our business, sorry!”
“There shouldn’t be any secrets between us. We’re all working together.”
“I…”
“Don’t push her,” Iori told him.
“Why shouldn’t I? The situation is desperate enough.”
“You all, don’t argue,” Rinto said, attempting to calm down the situation. “I realize things are tense right now, but we can’t fall apart.”
But their group was made up of the scattered and often neurotic members of Idolish7, the argumentative Trigger drowning in a sea of scandal, and four deeply stressed-out managers. Momo and Yuki, without his permission, had organized a union and a kind of resistance, but they hadn’t completely let any of the members in on what they were doing. Now Momo was missing and Re:vale was out of commission. What were the remnants left in this room supposed to do except fall apart in the face of Tsukumo?
—
“Momo, there’s something you should read.” Ryou had that faux-sad tone he always had when he talked about Momo’s “suicide”.
The issue is, Momo was confined to his bed. Ryou brought him meals, but didn’t do anything to help with his mobility— didn’t give him crutches or a wheelchair— didn’t let him look out a window— didn’t give him his phone or let him check his messages, his reason for that being that Momo might still be emotionally unstable.
Momo was keeping the mental quote marks around ‘suicide’ for his own sanity. Every day, he got a little less confident he knew what day it was.
“I know you didn’t really believe what I told you.”
“Of course I believe you, Ryou-san?” Keep him placated. Wait, is disagreeing a bad move? Or to make him happy, should I have seemed desperate, like “W-why would you think that, Ryou-san?”.
“I didn’t want to distress you, so I didn’t show you this right away, but this is a magazine that came out a week after your anniversary.”
On the cover of the magazine was him and Yuki. The subtitle said, dramatically, “Re:vale’s Momo attempts suicide???”
A real connection to the outside.
Momo tore through the pages until he found the article about him.
It lined up exactly with what Ryou said. Yuki had found his former partner, who had been living destitute in another country. He’d announced at their fifth anniversary concert that Re:vale would be splitting up— the article read “ It would be hard for anyone who attended to believe this was pre-planned, despite Yuki’s words. His partner stared at him, tears in his eyes, and fled the concert hall before the encore.”
Momo didn’t remember breaking like that at the concert. He remembered confidence, joy, pride in his juniors and incredible thankfulness for them too. Also, he remembered being sabotaged by someone in a Zero costume, and there was no mention of that at all in the article.
When Ryou wasn’t looking, he flipped to the editorial.
It talked about him— but the editor of this magazine was someone Momo knew. He didn’t write like this. The editorial of this magazine read like someone had gone through the editorial of every pop culture magazine ever written and asked an AI to write one about Momo’s tragic demise.
Or was he just trying to find things to console himself? To justify being suspicious of Ryou?
Ryou pulled the magazine out of his hands. “Ah-ah-ah! I think you’ve read enough, Momo. You should rest.”
“But I’m boreeeed,” Momo complained, with a petulant expression he hoped was cute and the tiny hint of tears in his eyes. “All I do is rest. I don’t have anything to do.”
“Momo, you don’t think you can fool me with that, can you?”
Ryou’s tone was darker than it had been all week, making Momo startle and flinch back.
“Kidding! I’ll buy you some video games, you like those, right?”
Keep surviving.
“Mm, okay, Ryou-san. …Thanks for taking care of me.”
Ryou-san smiled like a shark. “My pleasure.”
—
Narumi sighed, blowing her hair out of her eyes. “So much drama. I’m gonna get into rock again to get away from this idol madness at this point. At least ZOOL’s still okay.”
“Not true,” Tatsuki said, because he liked to torment her. “Didn’t you hear?”
“What?” Narumi asked, done with everything.
“ZOOL’s been infected too. All of the former members of NO_MAD besides Touma have gone missing, and the magazines are implying that it’s on him.”
—
Touma couldn’t stop shaking. It’s my fault. It’s my fault. It’s my fault.
Ryou poked him, making him shudder violently. “I told you, didn’t I?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll never quit. I’ll do what you say, Ryou-san.”
—
Momo had been waiting the whole day for Ryou to leave his apartment.
He’d figured out over time that his legs had been paralyzed, but he could still move the rest of his body. So, as soon as he heard the front door shut, he pushed himself off his bed— and landed in a tangle on the ground.
Ryou would have taken his phone with him, but Momo remembered he had a computer in the office adjoining his bedroom.
It was seventy feet away, through a closed door. Slowly, Momo dragged himself forward on his elbows. He had to collapse when he got to the guest room door; he had barely moved in two months; and he almost couldn’t reach the doorknob.
He froze in the dining room, thinking he heard a sound at the door, but it was nothing. Eventually, he made it successfully to Ryou’s office and pulled himself up into a chair, shaking and breathing hard from exertion.
It took him three guesses to get Ryou-san’s password. Hands trembling, he found Rabbitchat and opened it—
A sound at the door. A real one, this time. The door was opening.
Momo frantically scanned through the list of names Ryou was messaging. Yuki was the easiest, but couldn’t message Yuki. He couldn’t. Not after what Ryou had told him. ZOOL was all on there, but Momo couldn’t drag them into this. They had enough on their plates, and Ryou might hurt them. Ban was on there; and some people Momo didn’t know. Trigger. Nanase Riku. He couldn’t trouble any of them with this, and he couldn’t talk to Ban.
Footsteps in the hall. He kept scrolling down further and further, more and more desperately.
Kaoru-chan! She could handle herself, right? No time— he clicked on her name and hastily typed “help”, sent it, his hands were shaking and he had no time to give the important information—
[This user has you blocked.]
The office door swung open.
“What do you think you’re doing, Momo?”
“I— I’m sorry—“
Ryou grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out of the chair. Momo collapsed in a pile at Ryou’s feet.
Ryou knelt at his level and pulled Momo’s head up by his hair. “Don’t leave your room without my permission. Don’t contact other people.”
… Momo nodded.
“Why don’t you trust me?” Ryou asked, and he sounded almost sad. “We used to be friends, but I guess that was all a lie.”
“Guess so,” Momo said.
That made Ryou angry. He didn’t show it on his face, but he got up and found a pair of handcuffs. “Hold out your hands.”
Momo twisted. “No—!”
He’d used to be physically stronger than Ryou, but he’d gotten weak. Really weak. Ryou was able to put handcuffs on him, then pick him up and take him back to his room.
Between the door and the bed, Ryou looked around with careful consideration, then turned ninety degrees on his heel and said “The door to your room doesn’t lock from the outside, so how about here?”
It was a tiny closet.
“Ryou-san, please…”
Ryou pushed him inside and then, with strange care, helped him sit down and pushed a piece of hair out of Momo’s eye.
“Just follow what I say, and then everything will be fine, okay?”
“Please…”
“You’re so beautiful like this.”
Ryou leaned in, and ghosted his lips over Momo’s in a brief kiss. Then he locked the door.
—
“Soba again?” Tenn said.
Gaku shoved the door closed with his hip, balancing three bowls on top of each other. “You should be thankful.”
“I am. But I’m a growing boy. I need more variety in my diet.”
“Snot-nosed brat. Is Ryuu home?”
“Yeah, he got back from work about half an hour ago.”
Ryuu opened the door of his room, looking wan. “Is that dinner?”
“Yep.”
“Hey, Gaku. How was work?”
“Pretty good. But I feel bad. Between my paycheck and giving us free soba, we’re basically living off of my mother’s family, and I wanted to help them.”
“That’s so sad,” Tenn said.
“Shut your mouth.”
Gaku busied himself getting place settings for everyone. Tenn stood up, filled three glasses of water, put them on the table, and then sat back down like his job was over (despite being the one who had spent most time relaxing at home today).
“…I have bad news,” Ryuu said, about a quarter of the way into dinner. “Rent’s due.”
“…Can we pay it?”
“We’re incurring far more expenses than profits whenever we perform as Trigger,” Tenn said. “So I doubt it.”
Ryuu nodded. “Part time jobs aren’t enough to pay for this place anymore.”
“We’ve been eating only soba,” Gaku said. “You’ve been working forty hours a week.”
“It’s not enough, I’m sorry.” Ryuu said.
“…Where are we going to go?”
“No choice,” Tenn said. “We’ll downsize.”
“Doesn’t Kujo have money?”
“He’s… angry at me, right now.”
“Still,” Ryuu said, “Maybe you should go live at home. You’ll have stable meals, a stable place.”
“Tenn shouldn’t go back to that house if he can help it,” Gaku snapped. He didn’t like Kujo, and he didn’t like the idea of Tenn being in close quarters with him.
“Shut up, Gaku. But I do… do want to stay with you two. I want to keep being Trigger.”
“We were Trigger before we shared an apartment,” Ryuu said, like he was trying to reassure himself. “We’ll still be Trigger after.”
But they were falling apart.
—
Momo lived with a tightly wound ball of stress inside his body. Ryou rarely went so far as to punish him, but every day was a performance and he couldn’t live like this. He clung onto the time when Ryou was away, the hours from 9 to 5 pm.
Sometimes, he’d use the time to sleep, or play video games. He tried to exercise as best he could, too.
Sometimes he couldn’t do much. Sometimes the stress made him sick, or made his heart beat so fast it tethered him in place.
Ryou had eventually deigned to put in a few of those parallel-handrails people used in PT around Momo’s room, so he could reach the bathroom and a bookshelf. When he wasn’t home, Momo did muscle training and tried to gain some of his mobility back. He was sure there were better things for a broken spine than bed rest and his random ideas, but without internet access he couldn’t look those up. So he tried to focus on moving the parts of his body he could, and only occasionally ended up sprawled on the ground, having done something extremely wrong.
Even if Yuki would take him back, he would never be an idol again, not one who could sing and dance the way he used to.
It was hard not to be depressed.
He didn’t hate Ryou, not passionately. Ryou was spiteful; childish; had too much power. Sometimes, though, he could be funny and charming. He used to do genuinely kind things for Momo, too.
Ryou still did nice things for him, but caged like this, they felt like condescending gestures. Like Momo was a pet, being rewarded.
He didn’t know what day it was. He’d attempted suicide in April, and woken up in May. He thought it might have been three, four months since then? But then, he’d thought it was October at first. His sense of reality had been blurry.
Ryou came in that evening and greeted Momo with a kiss.
Momo didn’t like the feeling of being kissed by Ryou anymore, so he didn’t kiss back and looked vaguely into the distance as Ryou pulled away. That was until Ryou tapped twice on Momo’s jaw, warningly, and Momo jerked into action.
“Welcome home, darling.”
“Good boy.”
“How was work?”
“Don’t worry about that right now, Momo! I got you a present!”
Ryou’s presents tended to either be aiming for bad intentions or to just be strange and not very good (because Ryou had strange tastes). Ryou told him “just wait, just wait” so Momo, a bit trepidatiously, sat and waited.
Oh. Oh. It was actually…
“Do you like it?”
“Yeah. Yes! I’m really happy!”
It was a wheelchair.
How long had he spent, confined to one room?
“You’re not going to abandon me, are you?”
“No.”
“Good. I just wanted to feel like I could trust you. …And that you wouldn’t try and harm yourself the moment you were out of my sight.”
Once, with Ryou, Momo had woken up with cuts all down his arms.
Ryou had told him he’d done it to himself. And Ryou didn’t physically hurt him. So.
He didn’t remember doing it, though.
“I won’t.”
“Just to be sure, I’ll still watch you at first.”
“Sure.” At first. Momo’s heart leaped.
“Though… there’s one thing I’m worried about.”
His heart fell.
“What if you get recognized?”
Isn’t that okay?
“You’re associated with this scandal. You’d be crowded by new Re:vale fans, old Re:vale fans…”
Thinking about it, Ryou was right. Momo didn’t know a situation he’d less want to be in than that. He still could barely deal with Yuki abandoning him, even though he’d known it was coming. Having to talk about it— being recognized as Re:vale’s Momo— being asked, maybe, where his injury was from— he didn’t like the idea at all.
“So I thought, what if you dye your hair?”
Huh? I can still go out? “That sounds like a great idea! Hmm, what color should I pick… any ideas, Ryou?”
Ryou rested his chin on his hands. “You decide~”
Momo’s frosted tips made him think of Yuki. Ryou had helped him cut his hair, to keep it out of his eyes, and those tips were almost all gone now anyway.
“Maybe blonde? I remember thinking of going blonde in high school, because the cool delinquent kids would bleach their hair.”
“Oo, delinquent Momo. You’d look good like that.”
“Well, now I’m not in high school, so hair dye isn’t regulated anyway…”
“You should do it. I’ll help you.”
—
It was a practical means to hide Momo’s identity. (Ryou had originally thought of keeping Momo in his apartment forever, but he was getting so boring like that.) But he really did like the idea of getting to shape Momo’s image. To make him Ryou’s in every aspect.
—
“It’s winter. I wasn’t expecting that.”
“It’s been seven months.”
“Seven months…”
—
Naoko had had a hard time of it recently. Of course; she’d gotten into a car crash and ended up paralyzed. Who wouldn’t be upset?
But the young guy she was attending physical therapy with seemed to be doing a lot rougher. He was cheerful, friendly, and nice to get along with; and he put his all into everything and joked about being a pro wheelchair basketball player one day. But when he wasn’t talking, his face would drift off into a distant, depressed state. One time, Naoko touched him on the arm, and he flinched intensely— with his full body— and buried his head in his hands, almost hyperventilating and seeming not to hear or see anything around him. (Their therapist had helped him, but she’d felt guilty nonetheless).
One time, the day’s session was coming to an end, and Naoko had complained about how she felt exhausted and wanted to go home.
“I’m really happy I get to be here instead of home,” Momose had said with a sunny smile.
“That…”
“Oh, I mean, uh, I’m glad to be here. I like hanging out with you, Naoko-chan!”
Every day, right when it started and right when it ended, he’d be escorted in by a slightly older man. At first, it seemed like they had a fairly good relationship, with playful banter. But then she’d seen Momose— misspeak? He’d said something, and then froze and started talking faster, No, actually, I didn’t mean that, you see, the thing is… and rather than calming him down, that man had just stood there and watched, almost like he was enjoying it.
Momose had said he didn’t want to answer the how was your injury caused? question. Their physical therapist knew, so it would have only enlightened their small group, and it was fine that he didn’t want to… but eventually he did, a few months later, when the two of them were alone and it was one of his worst days; he hadn’t even been acting cheerful, and he admitted why.
Attempted suicide.
That explained a lot, but…
It didn’t seem like he was in a better situation now. It seemed more like he could be driven to it again.
—
Mitsuki’s pay was dwindling.
It couldn’t be helped; Idolish7 was rarely getting new jobs, Tsukumo holding them in an iron grip. But it did make grocery shopping more difficult. Still, he’d managed to scrounge up the money and a little extra for a MagiCona sticker for Nagi. He’d been strange and sad, lately, but MagiCona usually made him smile.
On the way home, he decided to take the long way through the park. It was a cold, crisp, day in early spring, a good day for a walk even if his nose felt like it might freeze off.
He almost didn’t recognize Momo at first. Blonde, longer hair, a wheelchair, different clothes, and a downcast expression. Then, when he did recognize him, he thought no, it couldn’t be.
Six months, no sign of him. They’d searched, but they’d grieved as they searched. He honestly didn’t think he’d be coming face to face with him, it felt surreal.
But come on. Even if this turned out to be some stranger, he absolutely had to talk to him.
He walked up to him and said, “Hey, this might sound weird, but I feel like you’re one of my friends? Did you dye your hair?”
The person didn’t seem to notice Mitsuki until he spoke; and he reacted to that more with surprise than understanding, flinching and then looking up at Mitsuki, with a furrowed brow.
Then he seemed to realize something and said “Haha, no, I’m not that person.”
By that voice, Mitsuki knew for sure it was Momo.
He was usually good at asking one question at a time, but it had been so long, the questions poured out of him. “Momo! What happened to you? Where are you now? Is this a Banri situation and you’re actually okay? If not, we’ll help you, tell us what we need to know.”
“Calm down, slow down,” Momo said. “I can’t… I don’t know. Don’t you know?”
“What? No, I don’t! You were kidnapped!”
Momo looked at him with confusion. “No, I tried to commit suicide, and then Ryou-san volunteered to take care of me while I recovered.”
That was… “No. Touma said you took the blame for something he did, and Ryou had two bodyguards with him that took you away somewhere. That’s the last time anyone saw you.”
“Touma of NO_MAD?”
“Of ZOOL.”
“I didn’t make that up? Ha, I knew I couldn’t make up a group of kids like that…”
“Momo. Tell me where you are and what’s happening to you.”
Momo drew away from him. “It’s just Ryou-san’s apartment.”
Shit. Yuki knew Ryou’s home address. Why hadn’t they… For a month, there were weird reports of Momo being in an unidentified hospital, and they hadn’t been able to find him. Why had they slowed down looking?
“I can’t talk to you,” Momo said. “It’ll be bad for you to get involved, please don’t worry.”
“Momo—”
“Ryou-san is near here. He told me to just wait for a bit. Please.”
“We’ll get you out of there,” Mitsuki promised.