Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Haunting Truth 

That rainy day, he was picked up by his dad.

He was discharged from the hospital. Honestly, he was happy—he hated the smell of antiseptics, the endless beeping machines. But still, that sterile room held the warmth of memories—memories of him. His angel. His older brother. The one who would cry when he nearly died. The one who would hug him when he felt scared. The one who sang for him, danced for him, who promised they'd chase their dream together.

The one who made everything bearable.

That day, Riku sat in the front seat, smiling brightly, unaware. He was so sure—he'd see Tenn-nii again soon. That thought alone filled his heart with joy. But as the car moved, he slowly began to notice... the road was unfamiliar. They weren't going home.

They were heading toward the club their family owned.

He looked at his father, only to receive a faint smile in response. It was gentle—but strange. Cold. The kind of smile that made his young heart twist in unease. But at thirteen, Riku didn't ask. He didn't want to believe something was wrong.

And then—he saw them.

Stepping out of the car, the rain still falling in rhythmic sheets, he caught sight of two familiar silhouettes: his mother, and Tenn-nii. But there was another figure standing with them. A tall man. One arm protectively around Tenn, shielding both from the downpour.

Riku blinked.

A customer, maybe?

That's what he told himself.

But when Tenn turned to him and didn't smile, when their eyes met and it felt like glass shattering—

That's when the dream began to twist.

"Tenn-nii!" he called out, joyfully reaching out, taking his brother's hand. The moment they touched, Riku felt warm. Safe. As if feathers had wrapped gently around him.

"Riku," Tenn said softly.

But then the warmth disappeared.

The strange man asked "...So, what do you choose?..........Will you come with me?"

Riku froze. "W-What do you mean...?"

And then—

"I'll be in your care, Kujo-san."

No longer were their hands clasped. Just like that—they weren't even touching.

His mother sniffled behind him.

His feet were frozen. Chained. He wanted to run, to scream, to beg Tenn not to leave—but he couldn't move. His voice wouldn't come out. His eyes searched desperately, but all he saw was white

"Tenn-nii!!"

The cry tore from his throat as he jolted upright, chest heaving with shallow gasps. His hands fisted the sheets, drenched in cold sweat. The sterile scent hit him like a wave, and his wide, panicked eyes met—

White ceilings.

Again.

He found himself staring at those same old white ceilings. Always white. Always quiet.

A hoarse, bitter laugh slipped past his lips.

How pathetic he felt in that moment.

His body shook, not from the dream, but from how real it all felt. He could still hear Tenn ni's  voice. Still feel his hand slipping away.

Just like that day.

His chest hurt. His throat burned. He wanted to scream again—but then—

A hand.

Warm, steady, grounding.

It touched his arm, firm but gentle. And just like that, reality pulled him back. Not with violence, but with quiet, persistent presence.

He turned his head.

"Iori..."

The boy beside him—the one younger than him—was sitting at his bedside, shoulders hunched forward in tension. He looked as though he hadn't moved in hours.

There were bags under Iori's eyes, dark and heavy, and his lips trembled slightly as if he were holding back something—

A sob.

Tears.

Fear.

Riku's heart clenched. Iori looked like he might cry at any moment.

And it broke him a little more.

"...Iori, I—"

Before he could finish, Iori was already helping him sit up, slipping an arm behind his back with surprising care. His hand lingered at Riku's shoulder a second longer than necessary, almost as if to check—Are you still here?

"...How long...?" Riku's voice cracked.

"Two days," Iori answered quietly.

His voice was calm, but it wasn't emotionless. Far from it. Each syllable felt pressed through glass, fragile and sharp. He was trying—trying so hard to stay composed.

Riku looked down at his lap, trembling.

Two days.

Two whole days lost. Again.

He wanted to say something. Apologize. Joke. Anything to ease the tension in the room—but he couldn't. Because deep down, he knew.

It wasn't just a scare.

He could've died.

Again.

And the worst part wasn't the pain. It wasn't even the memory of the toy exploding in his hands, or the gas that left him choking.

It was the look on Iori's face.

That fear.

That helplessness.

That same expression Riku had seen on Tenn ni's  face long ago, in a dream—or maybe in a memory—when a young boy's heart stopped beating for a second too long.

He opened his mouth, but his voice was just a whisper. "I... really am a burden, huh?"

Iori's eyes widened.

"Don't," he said, harsher than intended. "Don't you dare say that."

Riku blinked at him, stunned.

"You're not a burden. Not to me. Not to anyone. You—" Iori's breath hitched. "You scared us half to death, Riku-san."

And that was when Riku realized—Iori was angry. Not because Riku had collapsed.

But because Iori had almost lost him.

Again.

Riku's eyes, glazed with tears, seemed distant.

As if the light that once shone in them saw the past, not the present.

Again, he found himself staring up at those same old white ceilings.
A hoarse, bitter laugh slipped past his lips.
How pathetic.
How utterly pathetic he felt at this moment.

Everything in the past... in the present... had been his fault.
And yet—he still had the audacity to play the victim?

The way Iori looked at him—no mockery, no anger—just...
Conviction.
And guilt.
Why was it that the gazes directed at him were always like this?
Always pitying.
Always full of guilt.
Always heavy.

His fingers clenched the blanket beneath him. His body felt weak, hollow. The room swam at the edges of his vision, his chest tight with something heavier than air.

His heart... it kept reaching out.

Even now, when everything felt like it was falling apart.

Reaching.

Yearning.

Even now, he searched for him.

Tenn Ni.

Wasn't that the cruelest part?

That even after all these years, all this pain—he still wanted his brother.

He remembered that day as if it had only just passed.
The sting of sunlight in his eyes.
The silence that came after Tenn's name left his throat in a scream that nobody answered.
Kujo's car, rolling away, with Tenn inside it.
The boy who didn't even look back.

And his father's hand... strong, firm... pulling him into the car.

"Don't cry, Riku."

He hadn't wanted to cry.
But he had.
He still was.

Because even now, even after all this time...
Tenn ni  was still gone.

And maybe, deep down, he feared he was the reason why.

"...Tenn...ni....."
The name fell like a crack in the air. His hand twitched, reaching for something that wasn't there.

Until—

A touch.

Warm.

Real.

Iori's hand closed around his own, grounding him back to the present.

"Riku."

His name. Spoken gently, like it deserved to be treated with care.

Riku's breath hitched. The nightmare hadn't come with screams or shadows this time. It had come with silence. With memories too loud to ignore.

And Iori had pulled him out.

He turned his head, slowly, and saw him.

Iori.
Younger than him.
Eyes rimmed with exhaustion.
Looking like he might cry any second.

Riku almost couldn't bear it.

"...Iori?" he whispered.

"I'm here," Iori said, his voice as steady as his hand.

"I... I messed up again, didn't I?"
His voice trembled. "Why does it always end like this?"

Iori didn't answer right away.

Instead, he moved forward, slowly—deliberately—and wrapped his arms around Riku.

Not just a touch.
Not just a hand on his shoulder.
But a real, grounding embrace.

Warm.
Familiar.
Home.

Riku stiffened at first—like he wasn't sure he deserved it.
But then, something cracked inside him.

His fingers gripped Iori's sleeve.
Tightly.
Desperately.

"Iori..."
A whisper.
A plea.

"You didn't mess up," Iori said softly, voice barely louder than a breath against his shoulder.
"Not this time. Not ever."

Riku let out a sound that was almost a sob, muffled against the younger boy's shoulder. His breath shook with the weight of guilt he'd carried for far too long. For things out of his control. For things that still haunted him.

"I—I just wanted to make everyone happy... I thought I was trying my best..."

"I know," Iori murmured, rubbing slow, steady circles against his back. "You always do. You've always tried more than anyone else. And I'm sorry, Nanase San ... I'm sorry we keep letting you believe that isn't enough."

The room was silent but for Riku's shallow, uneven breaths.

"You're not a burden," Iori whispered.
"You're not a disappointment."

And finally—

"You're the reason we all shine, Riku. You're our brightest star."

That broke something open in him. The tears came freely now, hot against Iori's shirt, soaking in silence. But they weren't just grief anymore. They were release. They were the cracks letting in light.

Iori held him tighter, anchoring him in the present, in the love that refused to fade no matter how dark Riku's thoughts became.

"You don't have to carry this alone," Iori said.
"Not anymore."

Riku's breath hitched, trembling in Iori's arms.

The weight in his chest didn't disappear—but it shifted. As if Iori had taken some of it, wordlessly. Just by being there. Just by staying.

"You really think I'm not a disappointment?" Riku's voice cracked. It was barely a whisper, almost too soft to be heard.

Iori pulled back just enough to meet his eyes—red and glassy, glinting with uncertainty.

"I don't just think it," Iori said, brushing a strand of hair from Riku's forehead. His voice was quiet but sure. "I know it."

There was no hesitation in his words. No pity. Just honesty, clear and steady.

"And if I have to remind you every single day," he added, softer now, "then I will."

Riku blinked rapidly, the tears coming back too fast to stop.
He nodded slowly, eyes still shimmering. "Okay... I'll try to believe you."

"That's enough for now."
Iori smiled—just a little, just for him.

He tightened his arms around Riku again, pulling him back into the safety of the hug.

Riku let himself melt into it, this warmth he didn't know he needed so badly. The warmth that anchored him. The warmth that said: you're here, you're safe, you're loved.

The only sound in the room was the steady rhythm of their breathing—two hearts finding peace in silence.

And for now, that was enough.

"You really have become a nakimushi, haven't you, Nanase-san?"

"Mou, Iori! Don't tease me anymore..."
Riku pouted, his cheeks puffing just a little despite the lingering wetness on his lashes.

Just as the faintest smile began to tug at Iori's lips, a small whimper escaped Riku's throat.
It wasn't grief this time—it was pain.

Iori's eyes snapped to Riku's hands.

The bandages, which had held together the damage from the blast, were stained through. Bright red bloomed at the edges, soaking into the fabric. His fingers trembled ever so slightly, and for a second, neither of them moved.

Then—

"Hang on—I'll get the doctors!"

Panic surged through Iori's voice as he bolted up, the gentle atmosphere shattered. Riku didn't even have the strength to protest, his head light, his stomach turning.

The warmth had faded, replaced with a cold ache creeping up his arms.

And yet, even as the pain flared sharply, he felt it—that brief comfort still clinging to him like a whisper.

He stayed. He's here.

Iori stayed silently as the medical staff tended to Riku.
This boy—who pouted and whined at every little thing—held such a brave face in pain.
Maybe... years spent in and out of hospitals had made him numb to it. Or maybe he'd just learned to smile through the ache.

Iori's fists clenched at his sides.
He didn't want this. He never wanted Nanase-san—the person who had given his life meaning—to suffer like this.

His hands trembled, but then Riku looked up at him.
That same iconic grin, just a little weaker than usual, spread across his lips.

Of course.
Even like this, nobody could outshine Nanase Riku.

As they sat side by side, the chaos outside the room faded. Just for a little while, there was peace—quiet comfort in simply being there.

And then—

"Did Tenn-nii... no, Kujo-san," Riku corrected himself, voice barely above a whisper.
"Did he ask for me?"

His tone was light. Too light.

But every word dripped with grief. With hope. With something so raw that it made Iori's chest ache.

Iori hesitated.

Deep down, something twisted inside him the moment Nanase-san mentioned that name again.
Kujo-san.
The very sound of it made his chest tighten.

Iori was furious—furious in a way he hadn't expected.
Because Nanase san...Nanase san........ was the purest person he had ever known.
And yet, he was the one hurting the most.

Iori still remembered his own shock when he was informed that only Yaotome-san and Tsunashi-san had contacted them after the incident.
Kujo-san hadn't said a word. Visiting? That was too far a stretch.
But even a call... even a single message would have been something.

There was no way Kujo-san hadn't heard the news—it was everywhere.
And Iori knew he cared about Riku.
But that didn't justify the silence.
Nothing did.

He hesitated.
He didn't want to hurt his partner.
But Nanase San  deserved the truth.

So he simply said, "No."

He saw Nanase san flinch, just slightly. His gaze stayed locked on his lap as he quietly muttered,
"...I see."

Iori felt the tremble in Riku's hand, how tightly he bit his lower lip—trying not to let the tears fall.

And Iori hated it.
He hated seeing him like this.
But maybe... maybe it was time.
Time to let go of illusions, to accept the truth and finally move forward.

Then came the voice—shaky, vulnerable.

"Ne, Iori... Do you think he hates me?"
A pause.
"Like... I mean, I know we're no longer brothers... but... does he want me to disappear from his life? Like he told me to quit..."
Riku let out a fragile laugh. "I know I troubled him. Hehe... ever since childhood..."

And then Iori heard the faintest whisper escape him.

"...An extra piece."

Iori felt something inside him shatter.

That dull, lifeless gaze—it didn't suit his partner.
Not his Nanase-san.
Not the boy who lit up every room just by smiling.

And yet, here he was... calling himself an extra piece.

It wasn't even a term Riku would use for someone he disliked.
And yet he had used it for himself.
Casually. Like it was a truth he'd long accepted.

Iori could tell—those words weren't new.
They were carved into his heart, wounds that had never healed.

When silence lingered between them, Riku let out a soft chuckle.
"What was I expecting...?" he whispered, shaking his head faintly.
There he was again.
Playing the victim.
Dragging others into his guilt and grief.

That soft, broken laugh jolted Iori.
His eyes sharpened with something unspoken—desperation, pain, fury.

And then, his voice trembled—not with weakness, but with weight.

"Never..."
His grip tightened.
"Never call yourself that again."

His eyes locked onto Riku's with an intensity that left no room for doubt.

"Don't ever talk about IDOLiSH7's center like that...
Don't ever talk about my partner like that."

Without another word, Iori leaned forward and pulled him into a gentle embrace.

It wasn't sudden.
It wasn't rushed.
It was quiet, tender—like a feather drifting into place.
A warmth that didn't smother, only held.

As if the world could disappear just for a moment... and nothing would hurt.

Riku froze, stunned by the rare show of affection.
He had always known Iori cared—but this?
This quiet, trembling hug?
It spoke louder than any words.

"You're not an extra piece," Iori whispered into his hair, voice so soft it barely touched the air.
"You're the part that holds everything together."

The older boy's hands gripped his shirt, knuckles pale.
He didn't sob.
Not this time.
But his body shook, silently.
He was tired of hurting. Tired of pretending he was fine.

Iori held him tighter, steady and unwavering.
This crybaby...
This boy who smiled through storms, who stood tall even when his hands bled.
Who'd rather destroy himself than disappoint someone else.
Who'd rather direct all his hate inward than lash out.

"You're not alone," Iori murmured again.
"I'll say it as many times as you need. You don't have to carry all of it by yourself."

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Riku let himself lean into the warmth.
Just for a while.
Just until the ache dulled.

................................................................................................................................

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 2 :THE INCIDENT

That afternoon, filled with pain, grief, and reassurance, belonged only to Iori and Riku. Just for the two of them—to hold onto the fleeting peace, to heal, to comfort. A rare moment, suspended in time like a flyaway petal caught on the breeze.

The hospital had already contacted IDOLiSH7, sharing the fortunate news.

Iori's phone had buzzed around midnight. When he picked it up, all he heard at first was his nii-san scolding him. Mitsuki wasn't just worried about Nanase-san, but about Iori too. After all, no older sibling liked seeing their younger ones crumble in silence.

That night, Iori reassured them gently. He told them Nanase-san had fallen asleep from exhaustion—and asked them to visit tomorrow instead.

THE NEXT MORNING.......

The raven-haired boy felt gentle fingers caressing his hair—the warm, familiar touch of his partner—and a soft hum escaped from the redhead beside him. Even though Iori was already awake, he pretended to sleep. He didn't want Nanase-san to stop.

Peeking through half-lidded eyes, he saw Riku staring out the window, sunlight spilling in and kissing his cheek with gold. Then came a slight shift, a subtle shuffle—and Iori could feel the older boy's breath brushing against his hair. His heart pounded like crazy, and a light blush dusted his pale neck.

"Arigatou."

It felt so warm, so gentle, that Iori wished time would stop. But as if fate had other plans—

"Rikkun!!"

Oh no.

The raven-haired boy knew instantly: the members had arrived.

"Tamaki-kun, don't shout—it's a hospital. Shhh," Sogo's voice scolded softly, ever the responsible one.

As if cued by the interruption, Iori finally sat up and turned to face them. A gentle "Ohayo, Iori," greeted him the moment he moved, and he couldn't help but return a faint smile to the older boy who stood nearest.

"Rikkun, greet us too! Hmph."

"Hai hai... Ohayo, minna-san."

Mitsuki: "Ohayo, Riku!"

Sogo: "Good morning, Riku-kun."

Nagi: "Good morning, desu!"

Yamato: "Onii-san is happy to see you, good Riku."

Riku chuckled softly at the eldest's playful tone. "Hehe."

Sogo's gaze shifted slightly to Riku's bandaged hands, a quiet shadow passing through his expression. "So... how are you feeling now, Riku-kun?"

"I'm fine now, Sogo-san. My breathing's stable too. And... gomen ne, for making you all worry."

"Don't think like that, Rikkun."

The redhead just beamed, smiling brightly as if to chase the lingering tension away.

But a thought tugged at Riku as he looked at them all again. "That toy... the one that burst in my hands—it released nitrogen dioxide, right? That's what caused my relapse. But... I'm still not clear on the situation."

Iori snorted in amusement. "Oh? You're still analyzing the situation at a time like this?"

Riku frowned, clearly offended. "Oi! What's that supposed to mean? I am smart, you know."

"Hah... If you were that smart, you wouldn't have opened that box without getting it checked first," Iori sighed.

"I was curious, okay?!"

"See? Reckless as ever."

The rest of the group watched their bickering with a mixture of relief and affection. Their usual banter—flyaway as it was—was back. Still, they couldn't let it escalate.

Mitsuki gently placed a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. "Now, now. Calm down, both of you. Iori, he just woke up."

Jealousy flickered in Iori's obsidian eyes. "But Nii-san—"

Before he could finish, Sogo spoke up, mild but firm. "Riku-kun, you too. Don't fight. Focus on recovering."

Nagi nodded. "That's right, desu! I shall give you my Magicona blanket."

Mitsuki groaned and facepalmed. "Oi... no one needs that."

"But Mitsuki—!"

Yamato chuckled at the chaos, a small smile on his face. "Man, I missed this."

Tamaki, watching with amused eyes, pointed toward the bickering duo. "See? They get along, right Yama-san?"

In perfect sync, Iori and Riku snapped, "We don't."

Tamaki sighed. "They're in sync."

"We're not."

Laughter filled the room—soft, healing, warm.

Just then, their manager stepped into the room, a smile tugging at her lips as she watched the chaos. "I really do love seeing all of you together."

"Ah, Manager!"

"How are you feeling now, Riku-san?"

"Hai, I'm fine now, Manager. And... Iori was there when I woke up."

That bright, heartfelt smile from Riku made someone avert his gaze, his ears tinged with red.

"Oh, to be young," Yamato teased with a smirk.

"Iorin is a tsundere," Tamaki added cheekily.

"I'm not," Iori muttered, flustered.

Riku blinked. "Anyway—you guys didn't answer my question." His serious tone returned, catching their attention.

The blonde scratched the back of his head, looking uncertain. "Ah, Riku... let's talk more about it once we're back at the dorm. Manager, you've brought the discharge papers, right?"

.................................................................................................................

FLASHBACK

The fan meet had followed their concert—an evening filled with joy, cheers, and glittering lights. Each unit had their own tent: the Pythagoras triplets, MEZZO", and Fly Away.

Things had been going smoothly. Until they weren't.

Fly Away's tent was buzzing with laughter, the air light and warm as Riku greeted his fans with his usual sunshine smile. Iori sat beside him, occasionally making sharp comments whenever Riku did something too airheaded, which only added to the fans' amusement.

A nervous teenage girl was pushed forward by her mother. Riku greeted her with an easy grin.

"Don't be nervous, hehe... After all, we're here for you."

The girl flushed and asked for an autograph.

"This is for you, little princess," Riku said as he signed, his smile so bright it made her mother's nose bleed.
Fans screamed in delight. Riku, panicked, offered his handkerchief, only to be met with louder squeals.

"Daijoubu desu ka?" he asked, concerned.

The mother accepted it with tears.
"I'll cherish it forever."

"Ehh... it's just a cloth... no need to go that far," Riku mumbled, confused. He turned to Iori for help.

Iori had sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Nanase-san, stop giving your handkerchiefs out like that. And sit down—you look dumb."

"Hah?! What do you mean 'dumb'?!"

The next in line was a man wearing a hood and a strong perfume that immediately choked the air. His demeanor was odd, but Riku—being Riku—only smiled and greeted him kindly.
The man handed him a small gift and a note.

To Nanase Riku-san,
I'm your biggest follower. Your voice changes my world.
I don't want you to know who I am, but I request you to open the box.
This will surely help reduce your team's burden.
—Secret Admirer

Iori hadn't even noticed the man until he started walking away—skipping over everyone else, his head low.

Riku stared at the note, then at the box.

"...Kinda creepy..." he muttered. "But maybe it's a support item? Like a charm?"

"Nanase-san," Iori began, a warning in his tone.

But Riku had already opened it.
There was a plushie inside.

"It's kinda cu—"

A soft click.
Then a blast.

The tent shook.
Fans screamed.
Iori's world stopped.

"Nanase-san!"

He didn't even realize he had moved until his knees hit the floor. Riku had collapsed, the toy blown apart in his hands. Smoke clouded the air. His partner was gasping, his hands cut and bleeding, red soaking into the white fabric of his sleeves.

He was coughing—harsh, wheezing gasps—and Iori recognized that sound. The sound of a relapse.

He didn't care about the crowd. He didn't care about the noise. He only knew that Riku couldn't breathe here.

"I've got you—hang on."

Ignoring everything else, Iori picked him up and ran, manager shouting orders behind him. His partner's fragile body was limp in his arms, blood and smoke clinging to his clothes.

Iori didn't stop running until the crowd had faded behind him, the suffocating air replaced by open sky and distant sirens. He could feel Riku trembling in his arms—his breathing shallow, his lips too pale.

"Riku," he whispered, voice cracking. "Please... hold on."

Behind him, footsteps thudded against the ground. Voices blurred—manager, staff, security. He barely registered them.

"Call an ambulance!" he barked.

Sogo's POV

Everything had been normal—until it wasn't.

Tamaki and I had just been laughing with a fan when the screaming started.
We froze.

"Riku-kun?!"

The name cut through the air like a whip. I was already moving, Tamaki right beside me. Manager-san was sprinting ahead, followed by the Pythagorean  triplets, all of us rushing toward the Fly Away tent.

My heart sank the moment I saw Iori.

He was running, carrying Riku, whose body hung limp in his arms. Blood dripped from his fingertips. His red hair was stained, his face ghostly pale.

I stopped breathing for a second.

Tamaki gasped beside me.
"S-Sou-chan... R-Rikkun's bleeding... is he o-okay...?"

His voice shook, and so did his hands. I gripped them tightly, grounding both of us.

"He'll be okay," I said, more to myself than anyone else. "We have to believe that. Let's follow Iori-kun for now."

Tamaki nodded, but I could feel his panic through our joined hands.

As we ran, I heard Iori shout again for the ambulance. I didn't hesitate—I pulled out my phone and called immediately.

The manager turned to me, face pale but composed. "Good job, Sogo. Nagi and Mitsuki are handling the fans and the press. Stay out of the spotlight for now."

I nodded, glancing toward the tents.

Nagi was already speaking to the reporters, his usual smile gone. He looked sharp—angry.
Mitsuki stood in front of the fans, trying to keep them calm, his hands moving gently, reassuringly.

Back beside me, Tamaki was still shaking. I patted his back softly.
"He'll be fine," I whispered. "We're with him."

Sirens pierced the tension.

The ambulance had arrived.

Only Iori and Yamato went with Riku—Manager-san told the rest of us to return to the dorms. Nagi looked furious, practically seething. Mitsuki pulled him aside, whispering something to cool him down.

I glanced at Tamaki again, who clung to my sleeve, his expression crumpled with fear.

This... this was more than just an accident.
This was an attack.

And we wouldn't let it slide.

...........................................................................................................

Iori stared in a daze.
Even after being forcibly sent back to the dorms by Yamato, his thoughts remained at the hospital. He hadn't wanted to leave. He shouldn't have left. But Banri-san had convinced him, gently but firmly, on the condition that Iori could stay with Riku the entire day tomorrow.

Now, freshened up but exhausted, Iori sat in the living room with the rest of the group. The scent of blood still clung to his memories, the image of his partner gasping for air replaying in sharp detail. The inhaler hadn't worked. Only after using the nebulizer had Riku begun to stabilize. Iori had been trembling the whole time.

"Please be alright, Nanase-san... Please, please, please..."
He had never chanted like that before. His hand tightened around the towel in his lap.

Mitsuki's heart ached watching his younger brother sit so still. Iori rarely needed cheering up—but when he did, it was as if the entire air around him turned heavier. And tonight, all of them were weighed down. Their hearts hadn't calmed until they heard Riku was stable.

"Iori," Nagi began gently, his rare serious tone filling the room. "We heard the gist from Yamato-san, but not the details. What exactly happened?"

Iori looked down at the warm tea Mitsuki had placed in front of him. He curled his fingers around the cup before speaking.

"Before I could stop him... a hooded man handed Nanase-san a gift box. When he opened it, a stuffed toy inside exploded. It released nitrogen dioxide—he started suffocating immediately. The guards tried to track the man down, but..."

"They couldn't catch him?" Sogo finished grimly.

Iori nodded.

"I'll definitely make them pay for hurting Rikkun," Tamaki growled, eyes burning.

"It might've been a troll... or an obsessive fan," Sogo offered, trying to stay rational.

"No," Iori interrupted. "It was planned."

"Tsukumo Ryo," Nagi concluded beside him, as if reading his mind.

"W–wait, what do you mean?" Mitsuki's eyes widened at the implication.

"If their next targets after TRIGGER were Re:vale or us, and they knew Nanase-san was Kujo Tenn's twin, then—"

"—They were trying to kill two birds with one stone," Nagi finished, calmly.

Tamaki's shoulders slumped. "First Ryuu-aniki... now Rikkun..."

Sogo gently patted his back. "We'll protect him, Tamaki-kun. All of us will."

"But," Nagi turned back to Iori, "That's only the initial hypothesis, right?"

Iori nodded again. "Yes. If their goal was to target both TRIGGER and us through Nanase-san, it failed. Kujo-san is a professional. He won't back down over a single incident. And Nanase-san and Kujo-san are no longer family."

He paused. "I believe the real goal is to discredit our company. If fans lose faith in our agency's ability to protect us, they might pressure us to transfer... possibly to Tsukumo Productions."

"Two attacks—one message," Mitsuki muttered. "But he failed the family angle. So all we need to do is make sure fans don't lose faith in us."

"Exactly," Iori said. "We need to turn this around."

"I don't get all the logic stuff," Tamaki mumbled. "But I hate seeing Rikkun hurt."

"Tamaki-kun..." Sogo's voice softened as he gently pulled him into a hug.

Tsumugi entered the room, her expression solemn.
"I'm sorry, everyone. I wasn't able to protect you properly. But I promise... it won't happen again. I'll make sure our company doesn't fall because of this."

She glanced toward Iori. "Banri-san's already gone to check on Riku-kun. I'll bring Yamato-san back."

.......................................................................................

Next Morning

Tsumugi scrolled through her phone, guilt gnawing at her.

"NANASE RIKU: NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE?"
"IZUMI IORI FAILED TO PROTECT CENTER!"
"FANS DEMAND IDOLISH7 TRANSFER TO A SAFER AGENCY?"

Just as she let out a shaky sigh, Iori stepped into her office. "Manager."

She looked up quickly. "Iori-san..."

"I understand if the agency is under pressure right now," Iori said quietly, "but I believe we should wait before making any big decisions. At least until Nanase-san wakes up."

She nodded slowly, heart aching at how composed he was forcing himself to be. "I agree. We've already released a short statement."

She turned her phone toward him.

"Nanase Riku is currently in stable condition under hospital care. His vitals are normal, and his doctors are closely monitoring his recovery. We ask fans to trust that his health is our top priority."
– Takanashi Productions

Iori read it carefully, lips pressing into a line. "...Thank you."

"It's the truth," Tsumugi said softly. "And it's the most we can say right now. No false reassurances. No grand promises."

He exhaled, and for a second, let his mask crack. "I just... don't want him to wake up to a mess."

"You've done more than enough, Iori-san." Her voice was warm. "I promise, we'll protect him too."

.........................................................

DORM MEETING:

"I want to look after Nanase San myself" declared Iori.

"So we won't be able to meet Rikkun?" Tamaki asked, unusually glum.

Tsumugi sighed. "It's not like that. Between your schedules, there's some free time. You all can take shifts to visit Riku-san," she explained with a small smile.

"It's better if you guys focus on your work," Iori added firmly. "You'll be covering for us as well. Don't worry—I'll take care of Nanase-san."

Tamaki crossed his arms. "Iorin doesn't want us to spend time with Rikkun. He wants to keep him for himself."

"Hah—" Iori flinched. "It's not like that!"

"Ohh, it's love, desu~" Nagi chimed in with a wink.

"My younger brother has grown up," Mitsuki added, mock-sniffling as he wiped away fake tears.

"Ni-san!" Iori protested, his ears red.

Sogo, smiling calmly, suddenly shifted his tone. "I understand how you feel, Iori-kun. But since Riku-kun considers me like his older brother... I would like you to take my permission."

The aura in the room turned cold. Iori stiffened.

"Osaka-san, you too?!" he squeaked, looking like a tomato.

"I'm proud of you, Ichi," Yamato said coolly, patting Iori's shoulder.

"Sou-chan... I... w-won't let you take my p-position!" Tamaki stammered, backing up from the invisible pressure radiating off Sogo. "H-huh?! What do you mean, Tamaki-kun?" the purple-haired idol asked innocently, holding the TV remote like a weapon.

To Tamaki, it looked deadlier than a knife. He immediately hid behind Mitsuki and clung to his sleeve, trying to gather his courage.

"Since Tenten is now taking care of Aya as her aniki, I'll take care of Rikkun as his aniki!" he declared.

Mitsuki blinked. "Wouldn't he be your aniki, Tamaki?"

"Iie, iie... Rikkun doesn't feel like an aniki."

Before the teasing could spiral further, Sogo smoothly changed the topic. "Don't you think we should speak with Re:vale and Trigger?"

That caught everyone's attention.

"That's right, desu. We need to work together if we're facing Tsukumo Ryo," Nagi agreed.

"Their members—Tsunashi-san and Gaku-san—contacted us this morning," the manager chimed in. "They asked about Riku-san's condition."

"What about Kujo-san?" Iori asked suddenly.

The room fell quiet. Tsumugi shook her head slowly. "No response."

Iori clenched his fist. A faint "tsk" escaped his lips as the mood in the room shifted again, heavier now.

But just then, the door slid open.

A familiar, cool-toned voice cut in.

"Banri-san!"
"Ban-chan!"
"Ogami-san?!"

All three names burst out at once in perfect unison—like a surprise Pikachu chorus.

"Domo," Banri greeted them with a nod, a little caught off guard.

"You were supposed to be with Nanase-san. Is everything okay?" Iori asked quickly.

"Yeah! Why are you here, Ban-chan?" Tamaki added, wide-eyed. "Is Rikkun awake?"

Banri raised a hand to calm them. "Don't worry. Riku-kun is stable. He hasn't regained consciousness yet, but Re:vale is with him for now."

"Eh?! Re:vale?" came the group reaction.

Banri nodded, recalling Momo's words:
"Ban-san, we'll protect our kouhai. Go home and check on the others. I'll stay with our kawaii kouhai. Right, Yuki?"

............................................................................

As Banri joined the scene conversation once again shifted...............

Yamato crossed his arms, nodding once. "That was the right way. The company's notice and report were smart. Fans will feel reassured."

Everyone nodded quietly, the mood sobering again.

Iori glanced at the door Banri had entered through, his voice soft. "I just hope he wakes up soon..."

"He will," Mitsuki said gently. "Rikkun's tough. He's not going to let something like this keep him down for long."

"He's got us, after all," Nagi added, beaming.

Tamaki sniffled a bit and mumbled, "I'm still gonna be his aniki..."

"You can share the role with Iorin," Mitsuki teased, ruffling Tamaki's hair.

Sogo smiled faintly, arms crossed. "We'll protect him properly. Together."

The group sat in rare, unified silence for a moment—no more jokes, just the quiet understanding that they'd all play their part.

Banri watched them, eyes soft behind his glasses. "...Good. Then we'll face whatever comes next—together."

Hospital Room – Afternoon

The sterile room was quiet, the soft beeping of the heart monitor the only sound. Riku lay motionless, a faint frown etched into his face as if dreaming something too heavy for sleep.

Momo stood at the window, arms crossed, staring out at the gray sky. Yuki sat by Riku's bedside, fingers lightly flipping through a file from the doctors.

"Stable, but his vitals keep fluctuating when he's agitated," Yuki murmured. "Even asleep, he's not at peace."

"...This isn't just about the explosion." Momo turned. "Whatever's eating him up inside started way before that. We've seen it, haven't we?"

Yuki nodded, eyes lingering on Riku's pale face. "He's always been trying too hard. Always carrying something he shouldn't have to."

Momo walked over and sat on the armrest of the chair beside Yuki, his voice gentle. "Don't worry, Riku. Your senpai are here now."

He leaned in, placing a hand lightly over Riku's.

"We'll keep you safe, okay? You've got a whole crowd behind you. So just wake up already, superstar."

..............................................................................................

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 3- DISCUSSION 

After Riku finished explaining everything that had happened during the attack, the room fell quiet. Everyone's eyes turned to their center.

He hadn't said a word since then, head bowed, messy red bangs hiding his expression. He looked like he was deep in thought.

Iori, noticing the odd silence, leaned over and gave him a small shake.
"Nanase-san?"

"Huh?"

Riku blinked, snapping out of it. "Oh... um... so you guys want to know if it really was Tsukumo Ryo?"

Everyone, including the manager, nodded.

"Er... I don't think I can confirm that..."

"Ehh? Why, Rikkun? You don't remember anything?" Tamaki asked, worry lacing his voice.

The others leaned in, curious. Iori narrowed his eyes.

"It's not that," Riku mumbled. "I remember everything now. But..."

"But what, Nanase-san?" Iori asked.

"...I actually don't know what Tsukumo-san looks like."

Silence. Then—

"Pffft—Hahahahahaha!" Yamato broke into laughter, slapping his knee. The sudden outburst shattered the tense mood.

Tamaki, meanwhile, seemed more troubled than amused.

Iori, though, hid a soft chuckle behind his hand. How can someone be this cute?

Riku, on the other hand, looked confused by the laughter, clearly not in on the joke. The manager let out a quiet giggle of her own before pulling out her tablet, fingers tapping quickly.

Just as she began searching for the president of Tsukumo Productions, Tamaki blinked, then admitted, "Ohhh... Now that you mention it, Rikkun... I also don't know what he looks like."

The rest of the members exchanged glances, then looked back at the two with identical, resigned expressions—as if making a silent pact.

Mission: Protect Their Innocence.

The manager smiled and showed Riku the photo on her tablet, placing it on the table so the others could see too.

Riku and Tamaki both beamed at the gesture.
"Right! We can do it this way!" Riku said cheerfully.

"You know..." Tamaki mumbled with a low voice, "Ossan looks really scary right now."

"Yeah..." Riku quietly agreed, eyes flicking to Yamato, who was clearly holding back a rant.

Iori cleared his throat and turned to Riku, keeping his voice calm but clipped. "Nanase-san, can you confirm anything?"

Riku shifted uncomfortably. "Um... I couldn't see his face clearly. All I remember was... a black hoodie." His tone dropped, sounding faintly disappointed in himself.

"He probably sent someone else to deliver it," Sogo offered thoughtfully, "rather than come himself."

Riku nodded, "Yeah, that's what I think too."

"We're still only making assumptions at this point," Yamato said, voice tight but measured. "But yeah. I agree with Osaka."

Nagi, unusually serious, added, "Considering Tsukumo Production's track record... I believe they are involved. Especially with the suspicious flood of sudden company complaints online. The timing is too convenient."

Silence fell over the room again, the heaviness of uncertainty sinking into everyone's shoulders.

"...Um," Riku broke it hesitantly, "Manager-san... did you find a paper or something near the box?"

"The box?" the manager blinked. "No, we didn't see anything like that. Why?"

"There was a note. The guy in disguise gave it to me... I can't remember all of it, but it said something like, 'Whenever I listen to your songs, my mood changes... This gift will help reduce your members' burden.'"

Another round of silence. Then—

Iori sighed, dragging a hand down his face.

"What's with that sigh?" Riku pouted, affronted.

"I was just thinking," Iori said dryly, "how naive—or should I say, stupid—someone has to be to open a suspicious box after reading such a shady note."

"Wha—!" Riku's eyes flared in indignation. "I was just curious! And maybe it really would help you guys!"

"I'd open it too," Tamaki said with a nod.

"Tamaki-kun, you mustn't open unknown packages either," Sogo immediately scolded, face taut with concern.

"...Okay," Tamaki mumbled, shrinking a little.

"I guess we have to keep our eyes on these two," Yamato muttered.

"Oi! I'm older than Tamaki and Iori, you know!" Riku protested.

"Rikkun's aniki is me," Tamaki said seriously. "I'll look after you!"

He promptly scooped another spoonful of osama pudding into his mouth.

"...Huh?" Riku blinked, baffled.

"Don't mind him," Sogo said with a soft smile. "Tamaki's just being affectionate."

"No! I am his aniki!" Tamaki declared, puffing his cheeks. "Sou-chan can't take my place!"

"Yes yes," Sogo sighed, clearly used to this sort of claim. "You're his aniki, Tamaki."

Despite the earlier tension, laughter bubbled up from the group, even if Riku still looked mildly confused. Iori gently patted his shoulder, quietly amused.

"Alright," Mitsuki said after a moment, clapping his hands once. "We'll call Re:vale and TRIGGER tomorrow. Riku and Iori should get some rest."

"Yes," the manager nodded, adjusting her clipboard. "Everyone, head to bed. We'll resume things tomorrow."

Just as the group began to rise, a sudden cry burst through the room.

"Ahh—!"

"Nanase-san?!" Iori was by his side in an instant, brows drawn in concern.

"Do you want me to carry you, Rikkun?" Tamaki asked urgently.

"Should we call an ambulance?" the manager looked ready to grab her phone.

"I'm okay! I'm okay!" Riku flailed slightly, face flushed. "Sorry for worrying you guys..."

Everyone let out a collective breath.

"Then why'd you scream like that?" Yamato asked, arms crossed. "You're not hiding anything, right?"

"I—!" Riku huffed. "My phone fell when I was attacked, okay?! I just remembered now. What if it broke?!"

The group paused. And then—

A burst of laughter echoed through the dorm.

Iori, usually so composed, laughed louder than anyone else.

"What kind of scream was that?" he chortled. "You scared us half to death!"

"Mou! Don't laugh at me!" Riku's cheeks puffed indignantly.

"I understand your pain," Nagi said solemnly, patting Riku's shoulder.

"Nagi..."

"Riku."

More laughter followed, and even Riku had to smile through his embarrassment.

"Don't worry," Iori said after calming down. "Your phone's definitely broken."

"I just bought it last month," Riku groaned.

"Then your onii-san will get you a new one," Yamato grinned.

"No thanks. I'll buy it myself," Riku replied with a bright smile.

"Oi," came a familiar voice from the door, deep and amused. "Don't you all have work?"

"Sachou!" multiple voices cried out in unison.

Otoharu stepped into the room, his sharp eyes surveying them all. "Good to see you back, Riku-kun."

"Thank you, Sachou," Riku bowed politely.

"I heard about the concert plan from Tsumugi. Sounds promising. Just don't forget you have schedules to follow."

"Understood!" they chorused.

"Oh, and Riku-kun," Otoharu turned back just as he reached the door. "Contact your family soon. They've called the agency more than ten times."

Riku froze. His expression shifted, paling slightly. Iori noticed immediately.

"I'll go call them now," Riku said quietly. "Iori... can I borrow your phone?"

Iori nodded, already pulling it from his pocket.

Riku sat on the edge of Iori's bed, staring at the unfamiliar phone in his hands.

"...You can't use it?" Iori asked gently.

"I... I don't want to bother you more."

"Just tell me the number. I'll dial and put it on speaker," Iori said dryly.

Riku gave the number. Iori dialed.

"Moshi moshi?" a soft, warm voice came through. "Nanase Rei desu."

"Ohayo, Okaa-san... It's me. Riku."

"Ri-chan!!" Rei's voice lit up with joy.

"Okaa-san!" Riku whined. "Don't call me that anymore!"

"But it suits my cute Ri-chan~!"

Iori struggled not to laugh.

"Are you okay now?" Rei asked, voice turning serious. "Your breathing's alright? We saw the news... You were hospitalized again. We kept calling, but you didn't pick up..."

"I'm fine now. Discharged this morning. Nothing serious."

Iori, listening, noted the subtle change in Riku's tone. Softer. Calmer. Mature, somehow.

"Come home when you can, okay? We wanted to visit, but you know your father..."

"I'll come on my next day off."

"And remember your promise to Tou-san. You already broke it once..."

Riku flinched, just barely. "I won't break it again. I promise. Please take care of Tou-san, too."

"...Still scared of him?"

"Of course not!"

A gentle laugh echoed through the phone. "I hope that's true. Come soon. And try to bring Tenn along. That would make Tou-san so happy."

"I will. I promised, didn't I?"

"We love you, Riku."

"I love you too."

The call ended. Iori slowly set the phone aside.

He didn't speak. Not yet.

Riku wiped his eyes quickly and looked at him.

"You've got questions, right?" he asked, voice still light but gaze sincere. "You can ask. I trust you."

Iori blinked, startled. "...Are you sure?"

"You've already seen me at my worst," Riku said with a shrug. "Crying, coughing, practically falling apart. Why hide now?"

"...Then, what was the promise?"

Riku sighed, slumping back on his palms. "Can't you be more sensitive?" he grumbled. "I wasn't even planning to tell anyone..."

He stared at the ceiling for a moment before continuing. "Before I came to Tokyo, Tou-san didn't want me to. Not to become an idol, not to chase Tenn-ni's shadow. Especially not after I dropped out of medical school when Takanashi Production scouted me."

"Medical... school?" Iori repeated, stunned.

"I wanted to be a doctor," Riku admitted. "Maybe because of everything I went through. But... singing, this dream—I couldn't let it go."

He smiled bitterly. "Tou-san made me promise: if I didn't become at least a 'somewhat known idol' or something bad happened to me... I'd return home and resume med school."

"I take online classes now. Just in case," he added, quietly. "We're popular now, so one condition's cleared. But... I broke the second one."

Iori stared at him, heart tightening. He'd had no idea.

"I'll protect you," he said suddenly. "Nothing will happen to you again. I promise."

Riku blinked. Then he grinned.

"Ehh~? Are we in a shoujo manga now? Even though I'm older than you..."

He let the moment linger before his expression softened.

"...Thanks. I'm counting on you, Iori."

And in the quiet that followed, Iori found himself wishing the moment would last just a little longer.

"So, Nanase-san," Iori began, voice steady but curious, "about your father—Mr. Nanase—is he okay? What did Mrs. Nanase mean by his... condition?"

The question hung in the air. Riku's gaze flickered away. His lips parted, hesitated, then pressed shut again.

"Uhh... That, um..." he stammered, clearly trying to gather himself.

Iori noticed it right away—how his partner avoided his eyes, how the cheerful spark dimmed in his expression.

"...Tou-san has pancreatic cancer."

The words dropped like stones into still water. Riku's voice shook slightly as he continued.

"It's... rare here. But the issue is it's hard to catch in its early stages. It started as pain under his right ribs. Nothing serious at first. But then he started vomiting, got nauseous... By the time we realized it, it was already serious."

Iori didn't speak. He could only listen.

"We tried chemotherapy. Medication. But the cancer cells... they gathered too fast. Formed a tumor. The only option now is a total pancreatectomy—with parts of the stomach and small intestine, too. It's already spreading..."

Riku paused, his shoulders trembling. Tears welled up in his eyes, falling before he could wipe them away.

"The survival rate's low... And being an idol—saving money—was one of the reasons I pushed so hard. Okaa-san is working nonstop to cover the rest... and my recklessness just stressed him more. I'm sorry..."

He choked out the last words with a stutter, voice crumbling.

Iori sat frozen, stunned. He'd expected something serious—but this?

"...Nanase-san..." he whispered, heart sinking. But no words came.

"No need to say anything," Riku murmured, forcing a smile through his tears. "I've accepted it. But we haven't lost hope yet. And honestly... just having you here, Iori, calms me down. It's like... as long as you're by my side, I've got nothing to fear."

He chuckled softly, wiping his tears.

Iori's breath caught in his throat. He had nothing to offer in response but quiet, honest awe.

"...Baka," he muttered finally, barely above a whisper.

Riku tilted his head, confused. "Huh?"

"Don't carry this all alone," Iori said, the corners of his lips tugging upward. "You've got me. You've got everyone. We'll fight this together."

Riku's eyes widened as he stared at that smile—the gentle, rare one Iori saved for moments that mattered.

It reminded him of someone. A smile he hadn't seen in a long time.

But this one—it was different. Because it belonged to the first person who had truly accepted him.

He let out a shaky laugh, a small sob catching in his throat, and smiled back through his tears. It felt like he could breathe again. As though a weight that had long buried itself in his chest had finally lifted.

"Ne, Nanase-san," Iori said after a pause, voice playfully teasing again, "I used to think you were the 'cheap stock' kind of guy. But you're actually... trying to be a good son."

"Urusai na..." Riku muttered, looking away with a small pout.

A short silence passed.

"...So, I suppose you haven't talked to Kujou-san about it?"

"I haven't," Riku replied flatly. Then, softer: "But I want to."

He leaned back, resting his head on Iori's pillow, hair splaying against the fabric.

"How do you plan to tell him?" Iori asked, watching him curiously.

"I was going to tell Tenn-nii once I confirmed my suspicions," Riku murmured. "But things got complicated. Now I don't even know how to approach him..."

Something about his tone made Iori pause.

"Suspicion?" he echoed. "Do you mean... you have an idea why Kujou-san left?"

To his surprise, Riku nodded.

"But when Tenn-san asked you, you denied it," Iori pointed out.

"I was in denial," Riku said quietly. "I didn't want to believe it. But after meeting Aya-chan... I was pretty sure."

Iori's expression didn't change, but inside, he sighed. Of course he had suspected it too. He just hadn't expected Riku to connect the dots.

"I didn't like hiding this from you," Riku admitted, voice low. "But now you know everything."

He closed his eyes, sinking deeper into the mattress.

"For five years, I wondered. Was it my fault? Did I do something wrong? But then... I found out our old debts had been cleared. No warning. Just... gone."

He opened his eyes again, staring at the ceiling.

"The more I thought about it, the more I believed Kujou-san made a deal. Maybe he offered to help in exchange for Tenn-nii joining him. I wanted to confirm it. Because... if that was true, wouldn't staying with us and solving it together have been better?"

His voice softened even more. "He told me he left because Kujou showed him the real world. But now... I'm not sure I know him at all."

Riku hugged his knees to his chest, gaze distant.

"I feel like I've lost the right to involve him in our problems. But I want Tou-san to see him again. Even if... it's the last time."

Iori could feel Riku's breath shaking, see the tremble in his hand—but he also knew this wouldn't break him. Not Riku Nanase. The same boy who had once gifted him his dreams.

"...So you're going to give up?" Iori asked, cocking his head in a cocky tone.

Immediately, Riku sat up, fire returning to his eyes.

"Of course not! No matter what our situation is—even if we're not a family anymore—he deserves to know. He deserves to know about the man who gave him life."

There he was.

That was the Riku Nanase he knew. The one who clung to hope even in darkness, who lit the way forward no matter how dim it got.

"Ne, Iori," Riku suddenly said, stretching, "I think I'll shower now."

He slid off the bed and padded toward the door.

"Nanase-san," Iori called out before he could leave.

Riku turned back with a tilt of the head. "Hmm? What is it, Iori? Wait... don't tell me... you want to shower too?" His eyes widened in mock horror. "IORI—ECCHIIIII!"

Iori's face turned the exact shade of Riku's hair. "W-WHAT?! I wasn't—Why would you even—?! I HAD ONE MORE QUESTION!"

Flustered beyond recovery, Iori huffed and turned away.

Riku stifled a giggle, amused beyond belief.

"Never mind. I'll turn on the water. But remember—you're bruised, so don't rush."

At first, Riku furrowed his brows like a child being scolded—but eventually, he nodded in agreement.

"...Thanks, Iori," he said softly before disappearing into the hallway.

The soft rustle of papers accompanied the silence in the room as the blonde-haired manager absorbed the information laid out before her.

Her eyes lifted, wide with surprise.
"So... Iori-san, we're really going to use this method?"

"That's right, Manager," Iori replied firmly, his expression calm but resolute. "Even if the risk is high—I believe in our center. I trust my own analytical skills... and more than anything, I believe in the way you implement strategy."

Tsumugi blinked at him, lips parting slightly. His faith, placed so squarely in her hands, was both daunting and oddly empowering.

"Iori-san..." she murmured, voice softer now.

"Manager," Iori continued without hesitation, "please explain everything to Banri-san and to Sachou—the same way I did to you. I believe you can convince them. I know I'm asking a lot... but this is our only shot. Both professionally and personally."

Tsumugi bit her lip, the weight of the request sinking in. Still, she nodded slowly. "I'll do my best to convince Otou—ah, I mean, Sachou. But... are you really sure Yaotome Production will agree? And what guarantee do we have that Tsukumo Production will fall into our trap?"

Iori's gaze sharpened, confidence laced in every word.

"Zool is still new. They haven't debuted yet. For them, this is an opportunity—one they can't afford to lose. Trigger's revival will only raise Tsukumo's desperation. He'll accept the offer. He'll want to destroy us before we rise again. That's the hook."

He tapped a finger lightly against the desk.

"Performing in Miyagi will boost our name across the countryside—Fly Away's concert will be our first step in breaking down Tsukumo Ryo. And the second..."

He paused, letting the silence emphasize what came next.

"...is the joint concert."

Tsumugi met his eyes, her own glinting now with determined clarity. She understood. Every word. Every risk.

"I understand, Iori-san," she said, voice steady. "I'll do my best."

Gathering her notes, the blonde mane stood, bowing slightly before she left the room with quick, purposeful steps. Her next destination: the office of Takanashi Otoharu.

This was a gamble—a dangerous one. A single misstep could cost them everything.

But it was also their only hope.

As she closed the door behind her, she thought of the center who had brought them this far.
"It's all up to you now, Riku-san..." she thought, fingers clenched tightly at her side.

...........................................................

Takanashi Otoharu stared at the proposal in silence. Beside him, Ogami Banri leaned forward, brows furrowed in deep concentration. Both men had listened closely as Tsumugi detailed the plan.

"...You're certain this came from Iori?" Otoharu finally asked, glancing at his daughter with quiet astonishment.

Tsumugi nodded. "He spoke with clarity, confidence, and complete awareness of the risks. But more than that—he believes it's the best way to protect not just IDOLiSH7, but all of us."

For a moment, the office remained still.

Then, the president exhaled slowly, setting the papers down.

"...Then let's go with it."

Even Banri, skeptical at first, gave a small, approving nod.

"It's risky," he said, "but it might be the only route we've got left."

The blonde manager bowed her head in gratitude.

And so, the decision was made.

The gamble began.

Chapter Text

RESTRAINED EMOTIONS

A certain orange-haired boy stepped out of the shower, towel draped lazily over his neck. As always, he was the first one awake.

Humming softly under his breath, his eyes drifted to the dorm window, where the early morning light filtered through the swaying sakura branches outside. Petals fluttered through the air, carried gently by the breeze—like the wind itself was trying to steal them away.

"So pretty..." Mitsuki murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

After freshening up, he padded into the kitchen, tying his apron with practiced ease. The quiet clatter of pans and bowls echoed softly through the still dorm. He cracked a few eggs, his hands moving automatically.

"Omurice," he muttered to himself. "Gotta make it just right."

A gift. A little welcome-home surprise for the redhead who had always loved it the most.

Not long after, a soft rustle behind him announced another presence. A purple-haired figure entered the kitchen, equally composed.

"Ohayo, Mitsuki-kun."

"Ohayo, Sogo," Mitsuki replied, smiling without turning away from the pan.

Sogo leaned slightly against the counter, eyes flickering toward the prep. "What are you making?"

"Omurice." Mitsuki chuckled. "Figured we'd need it today."

Sogo's eyes softened with realization, a small knowing smile forming. "Ah... then we'll see someone bouncing up and down the hall in no time."

"Hmm-hmm. It'll be quite the sight." Mitsuki's grin widened slightly at the thought—Riku's gleaming eyes, his little hops, the way he'd clasp his hands with delight over something so simple. Like a child, easily contented. Pure-hearted.

Too precious.

None of them could imagine the group without him anymore.

And yet—he had been the one targeted. Hurt. Chosen as a pawn by someone who didn't even deserve to speak his name.

The smile slipped a little.

Mitsuki's hands stilled over the pan for a brief moment.

"Sogo... do you really think this plan with the joint concert will work out for us?"

Sogo's expression darkened. "I don't know."

The kitchen grew heavy with silence before his voice dropped low.

"But if anyone dares lay a hand on our members again... I won't let them get away with it."

A dark aura flickered around him. Calm, but deadly serious.

Mitsuki laughed quietly, shaking his head as he returned to stirring. "Yeah. I figured you'd say something like that. Everyone else probably would too."

He looked down at the egg mixture now just starting to set. But something in him still churned.

"Still..." he muttered, almost to himself. "It was really shocking."

.......................................................................

Flashback

The IDOLiSH7 dorm was unusually quiet.

Everyone sat scattered around the lounge, each trying to process the news they'd received just moments ago from the President. Everyone, that is—except for a certain raven-haired boy, who kept his face unreadable. Iori, of course, already knew. But he remained silent, watching the others react.

It had been only hours since he and Riku had returned to the dorm.

And now, they were told something unexpected—something borderline reckless.

A joint concert.

With Zool.

The very group they needed to be wary of. The very people aligned with Tsukumo Ryo.

The silence cracked under Yamato's voice, calm but sharp.
"Sachou... Even if this helps us keep an eye on Tsukumo, I think the risk is too high. Especially after they already hurt one of us."

He knew Iori had proposed the idea. But he still couldn't grasp why. What was the strategy behind it? Why had the President agreed?

"I agree with Yamato," Nagi said immediately, his expression darker than usual. "No matter what advantages this gives us, it's too dangerous. I can't guarantee I'll stay calm if I see them again—especially after what was said about Mitsuki... and Riku."

Nagi's voice dropped at the end. He didn't even want to speak Tsukumo Ryo's name. What had happened with TRIGGER was already unforgivable—and now this was personal.

"What happened with Nii-san?" Iori asked, cutting in with sharp concern. The others turned toward him, equally curious. The question had clearly been lingering on their minds too.

Mitsuki offered a lopsided smile, clearly trying not to worry them further.
"Nothing big. You remember the night before the fan meet? We went to help Ryuu... and ran into Tsukumo. That guy's tongue is just too spicy, that's all."

He said it lightly, but the others could hear the bitterness tucked behind his cheer.

Tamaki suddenly spoke, voice soft and uncertain.
"I... I don't want anyone to get hurt. I'm dumb, so I don't really get it all. But I think... Tsukocchi is a bad guy. I don't want Sou-chan, Rikkun, Mikki, Nagicchi, Yama-san, Iorin... I don't want any of you to get hurt."

His words were broken, but sincere. A hush fell over the group as their youngest member stared down at his hands.

"Tamaki..."
"Tama..."
"Tamaki-kun..."

They called out in gentle unison, their gazes softening. None of them wanted Tamaki to bear this weight, not when he already carried so much.

Iori sweatdropped slightly at the name.
"You still gave him a nickname even though you think he's a villain... How pure can you be?"
His eyes shifted to Riku, who looked equally troubled—brows creased in thought.

Sogo leaned forward slightly.
"Tamaki-kun... it's okay. Don't worry about him. Even if this concert happens, I'll protect you. Just like you said—we'll defeat him."

But that only made Tamaki panic.

"N-No! If Sou-chan gets angry, I'm more worried about Tsukocchi! He won't survive!"
He waved his arms, voice rising in earnest. "Y-You don't need to do anything! I'll defeat him! Just please don't kill him!"

The others paused.

"...How bad is it when Sogo, Sou, or Osaka-san get angry?" they all thought in quiet horror.

Sogo blinked in surprise as Tamaki patted him on the arm like he was the one needing comfort. Before anyone could respond, a quiet laugh broke the tension.

"I just love how childish but reliable you are, Tamaki."

Riku's gentle voice carried through the room as he smiled at Mezzo's antics. The warmth in his tone eased the tension immediately.

"I don't know what the consequences will be... but maybe this concert can help us solve things too. The fans would be happy. And more than anything... I want Touma-san to sing earnestly again. I want to help them. Just like TRIGGER helped us. Tenn-ni too."

The brightness in his voice felt like spring sunlight—soft, sincere, and somehow unshakeable.

Everyone stared at their Center, their expressions softening.

"Has this guy even killed a single ant in his life...?" Yamato sighed as he ruffled Riku's crimson hair.
Nagi patted his back. Tamaki, newly inspired by his adopted little brother, nodded brightly.

"Then I wanna help too! I wanna help Isumin and Ryuu-aniki!"

"Guess it can't be helped." Yamato gave a reluctant smile.
"We can't ignore such innocent requests." Nagi nodded in agreement.

"You both..." Mitsuki whispered, eyes tender as he watched the younger ones.

Sogo, embraced once again by Tamaki, felt a fierce resolve burn quietly in his heart.

"I want to protect them. Always."

At the edge of the room, the managers exchanged glances and smiled quietly. Takanashi Sachou's own lips curved slightly.

And in the back, a quiet observer sat, eyes unreadable.

"So this is what you meant... Kujo-san..."
Iori's gaze lingered on Riku, who now giggled as Tamaki clung to him again.

"A small puppy, huh."

............................................................................

"Ohayo, Sou, Mitsu," came a lazy drawl as a familiar figure stepped into the living room.

"Oh? Ossan, you're up early today!" Mitsuki teased, flashing a grin.

Yamato gave a half-hearted nod, too tired to retort with his usual sass.
"I actually think you're unusually early too, Yamato-san," Sogo added politely, though his tone held a trace of hesitation.

"Hmm... was thinking about the upcoming program all night... yawn... couldn't really sleep," Yamato mumbled, slumping onto the couch. The dark bags under his eyes confirmed his words.

"Ohh, sasuga Leader~" Mitsuki cheered with a playful salute.
Sogo nodded in agreement. "You always work so hard behind the scenes."

Yamato let out another yawn and rubbed his face.
"By the way... where are Ichi and Riku? They're usually the first ones up with you two."

His eyes drifted to the empty kitchen table, where two chairs usually sat occupied by the punctual duo.

"They must be tired," Sogo said with a calm smile. "Let's just let them rest a bit longer. I'll go wake up Tamaki-kun and Nagi-kun."

He left the kitchen and headed down the hall toward the bedrooms.

Just outside the living room, he paused—because right there, half-awake and blinking slowly, stood Iori. The raven-haired boy rubbed one eye with a slight pout, clearly not yet fully conscious.

Sogo held back a squeal.

Too precious.

It was rare to see Iori this off-guard. The contrast to his usual composed self was almost overwhelmingly cute.

"Good morning, Iori-kun," Sogo greeted warmly, a smile tugging at his lips.

Iori mumbled a reply, still stuck in the hazy world between dreams and reality.

Sogo continued on, reaching Tamaki's door. He knocked gently—once, twice, three times.

No answer.

"Tamaki-kun... okite," he called softly, then louder with each repetition. "Tamaki-kun, it's morning."

Still no response.

A familiar sense of dread filled him. Sogo began knocking harder, practically banging the door.

A strange aura began to swirl faintly around him—the kind that usually sent their poor leader running for cover.

Meanwhile, inside the room...

A certain blue-haired boy lay tangled in his sheets, hugging his pillow like it was a lifeline. His face was peaceful, slack with bliss.

Dreaming of—

"The world's biggest Osama Pudding..."

Rest in peace, Tamaki Yotsuba.

Because once Sogo opens that door...

Well.

There's no saving him.

The sound of persistent knocking echoed through the hallway, loud enough to rouse a certain redhead from his sleep.

Still groggy, Riku stumbled out of his room, his eyelids barely open as he trudged into the living room. His bed hair was in full bloom, and his steps were slow and uneven.

"At least open your eyes properly, Nanase-san," came Iori's familiar scolding tone, arms crossed as he spotted the half-asleep boy. "You'll trip and fall like that."

"Hai... Kaa...san..." Riku mumbled softly, barely conscious of what he was saying. Unfortunately—or perhaps fortunately—everyone else heard it loud and clear.

There was a beat of silence before Yamato let out a wheeze, and Mitsuki burst into giggles.

"Ahh, the flyaway sub-unit strikes again," Yamato muttered under his breath.

Iori's eye twitched as he turned sharply on his heel and made his way to the washroom. "Unbelievable."

Meanwhile, Riku plopped himself onto the couch, eyes still stubbornly closed. His limbs felt like jelly, and he had no idea when he'd dozed off again. All he knew was the warm couch felt like heaven right now.

Yamato and Mitsuki watched in fond amusement as Riku slowly melted into the cushions like a sleepy cat. Mitsuki, of course, pulled out his phone with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"For memories," he whispered conspiratorially to Yamato as he snapped a few pictures.

Suddenly, a loud voice pierced the peace:

"MIKKKIIII!"

Tamaki's distressed scream echoed through the hallway, accompanied by the sound of rapid footsteps. His face was pale, panic written all over it, and he launched himself toward Mitsuki for safety.

"Shhh!" Mitsuki hissed, throwing a hand over Tamaki's mouth and gesturing urgently at the couch.

Tamaki blinked and followed his line of sight—only to see Riku, fast asleep, a tiny groan escaping his lips as he stirred.

Understanding dawned immediately.

Tamaki gasped, then nodded furiously. Just then, Sogo arrived, looking both tired and intimidating—his morning wrath clearly having been awakened by a certain someone's refusal to get out of bed.

Before he could say a word, Tamaki turned and gently placed a finger against Sogo's lips.

"Shhh..." he whispered with exaggerated seriousness, pointing again to the slumbering Riku.

Sogo blinked.

Tamaki tiptoed toward the couch and gently lowered himself beside Riku. Carefully, he repositioned Riku's head onto his shoulder, cradling him with surprising tenderness. The redhead instinctively leaned into the warmth, sighing softly.

Tamaki beamed like a proud big brother.

"Ore wa... otouto," he murmured with a giant grin plastered on his face.

The others couldn't help but smile.

Mitsuki and Yamato exchanged a glance, their eyes glistening just a little.
"Our babies are too cute," Mitsuki sniffled, wiping away a nonexistent tear.
"Seriously," Yamato agreed, already framing the moment for his mental scrapbook.

Then—the doorbell rang.

Everyone tensed slightly.

Riku shifted, brow furrowing, but instead of waking up, he snuggled even closer into Tamaki's side.

Tamaki froze, not daring to move an inch.

"He's like a puppy..." Mitsuki whispered, heart melting.

"The clingy type," Yamato added with a smirk.

"No loud moves," Sogo warned softly. "Whoever it is, they better be quiet."

The peaceful morning might've been interrupted—but at the center of it was a warm cocoon of comfort and affection that no one wanted to disturb.

 Sogo opened the door quietly, expecting maybe a delivery or a neighbor.

Instead, he found Trigger and Re:vale standing there in full.

His inner fanboy short-circuited.

Sogo could practically hear his own heartbeat spike, but he forced a calm smile, stuffing the urge to scream deep into his soul. He had declared himself Riku's older brother, and that came with responsibilities—like not waking said younger brother from his rare peaceful sleep.

"O-Ohayo, Trigger... Re:vale... D-Dozo," he greeted in the softest whisper possible, gesturing them inside while mentally praying Riku remained unconscious.

He was not prepared for what came next.

"Ohayo, Sogo-kun! Osaka-san! Osaka~! My sweet kouhai~!" the six of them chorused—enthusiastically and loudly.

Sogo died inside.

'No no no no no—be quiet!!' he screamed internally, panicking as he waved his hands frantically at them like a mime in crisis. Was he being rude?! Should he have explained?! Should he scold them or apologize?! His brain was spiraling as he just stood at the entrance, glitching like a broken robot.

Meanwhile, Gaku had already stepped into the living room.

"Yo! Ohayo, IDOLiSH7!" he called out.

"Shhh!!" came the unanimous response from Mitsuki, Yamato, and Tamaki as they jumped in alarm.

Gaku paused, blinking at the sea of "shushes" and shocked Pikachu faces. He raised a brow. What was this?

Momo followed next, full of energy. "GOOD MORNING—"

"SHHHHHH!"

Now even Re:vale was confused.

The Trigger and Re:vale members exchanged glances, utterly lost. Had they walked into a silent movie shoot? A surprise party?

But then—a soft groan broke the confusion.

All eyes turned to the couch.

A mop of crimson hair peeked out. Everyone hushed instantly as Riku stirred in his sleep, shifting slightly. Tamaki, still beside him, turned toward the new arrivals. The blue-haired idol blinked lazily and whispered:

"Oh... ohayo, Tenten... Ryuu-aniki... Gakkun... Yukirin... Momorin..."

Soft gasps of relief rippled through the visitors as they stepped closer, spotting the redhead peacefully curled up against Tamaki's shoulder.

Tenn's gaze softened.

He was relieved—so relieved—to see his little brother safe and sleeping soundly. But beneath the calm smile, a flicker of jealousy sparked in his chest as he watched Riku snuggle even closer into Tamaki's side.

The room tensed as that aura subtly shifted.

"...Brocon power..." someone whispered under their breath.

Everyone else nodded in solemn agreement.

Momo's eyes sparkled. "He's too cute—I can't resist!" he gasped. With gentle fingers, he poked Riku's cheek.

The redhead mumbled something unintelligible and buried his face deeper into Tamaki's shoulder.

Tamaki, smiling like a proud older sibling, began stroking Riku's hair.

It was too much for Re:vale.

Momo turned to Yuki. Their eyes met, and an unspoken signal passed between them. The couple's telepathy activated.

Mini-photoshoot mode: ON.

Phones out. Poses ready. Stealth 100.

Meanwhile, Gaku leaned toward Ryunosuke, muttering under his breath:
"Hard to believe that kid's really Nanase's twin."

It was a mistake.

Tenn, who had heard everything, stepped on Gaku's foot with practiced precision.

"ITEEEEE!!" Gaku yelped, hopping on one leg.

Every single person in the room turned to glare.

"Demon brat..." Gaku muttered, now massaging his foot.

"What was that?" Tenn hissed back.

"N-Nothing! Nothing at all!" Gaku backpedaled as Ryuu placed himself between them like a weary teacher breaking up a fight.

But the damage had been done.

The noise reached a critical threshold.

Riku stirred.

Then his eyes fluttered open. The first thing he saw was—

Momo's face. Inches from his. Holding a camera.

"UWAHHHH!" Riku shrieked, jolting upright and flailing backward off the sofa. He landed in a tangled heap of blanket and embarrassment.

Everyone froze.

The crimson-haired idol blinked furiously, eyes scanning the room—Trigger. Re:vale. IDOLiSH7. Everyone. Everyone was here.

Realization hit him like a truck.

"O-Ohayou... M-Min'na-san... G-Gomen..." he stuttered, voice high and cheeks turning a deep, tomato red. His hair almost blended into his face at this point.

Half the room was trying not to laugh.

The other half was filming.

Then, a calm, composed voice entered the room:

"Ohayo gozaimasu."

Iori stepped in, freshened up and composed as always. His gaze swept across the now-crowded living room, then settled on his red-faced best friend.

"...You look like a tomato," he said bluntly.

Riku squeaked and tried to hide behind the couch.

The crimson-haired idol was too mortified to say a single word. His mouth opened, then closed like a panicked goldfish.

But when Iori entered the room, calm and collected, Riku lit up internally like someone rescued by their prince on a white horse.

'Thank god... Iori...'

Riku's eyes then flicked to the blue-haired boy sitting beside the now-empty sofa. Tamaki was visibly sulking, fiddling with the corner of the blanket Riku had been wrapped in. Something in Riku's mind clicked.

"Tamaki... did I... did I fall asleep on you?" he asked, blinking in realization.

Tamaki shook his head furiously, cheeks puffing up like a proud cat.
"Iie, Rikkun~ You were already asleep when I sat. But then you snuggled into me on your own~ Rikkun, kawaiiii~!" he beamed.

The entire room collectively froze.

Tenn's eye twitched.

Hard.

For years, he had been the only one who got to see that adorably sleepy side of his twin. Now here Tamaki was—declaring it to the whole room like a badge of honor. Tenn couldn't tell if he was feeling irrational or just exposed, but a pang of something sharp and sour twisted in his chest.

Meanwhile, Riku let out a muffled groan and buried his face in his hands, blushing furiously again.

"So embarrassing..." he muttered.

Iori, who had been watching silently, caught the expression. His eyes softened for a brief moment. Without thinking, the words slipped out of his mouth—quiet, but clear:

"Kawaii hito da na..."
(What a cute person...)

Every head snapped toward him.

GASPS.

Even Yuki blinked.

Yamato and Mitsuki's grins turned devilish.

"Oho~?" Yamato teased.
"My, my~" added Mitsuki, clearly delighted.

Iori, realizing what he had just said aloud, stiffened like a cat dunked in water.

"...Nothing," he muttered, trying to retreat behind his usual cool tone, but the faint red on his ears betrayed him.

Straightening his posture, Iori adjusted his collar like nothing happened.

"Nanase-san. I suggest you freshen up," he said, brisk and proper, directing his gaze to the flustered redhead.

"Uhh—Hai! Arigatou, Iori!" Riku yelped as he gratefully took the excuse and practically bolted from the room.

Iori followed after him, steady and composed. But to some in the room—especially one person—it felt like a private, coded gesture.

Tenn's jaw tightened.

Momo, who had been silently observing with sparkly eyes, caught the shift immediately and let out a tiny snort of amusement.

Tenn, not even thinking, blurted out:

"Why is he following him?"

A beat of silence.

Too loud. Too late. Everyone turned to look at Tenn.

Yuki arched an eyebrow. Mitsuki's mouth fell open in a gleeful "Oho~!" Gaku chuckled under his breath. Tamaki tilted his head innocently.

Re:vale and Trigger shared knowing smirks.

"...Jealousy, thy name is kujo" Momo whispered theatrically into his mic-less hand.

Tenn immediately turned his face to the side, arms crossed in defiance.

"I'm not jealous," he said.

No one believed him.

"Ohh, that's because Ichi is being a good babysitter," Mitsuki announced with a grin, arms folded smugly.

The other IDOLiSH7 members nodded in agreement like a synchronized choir, clearly used to this logic.

Re:vale and Trigger tilted their heads in confusion, expressions varying from baffled to amused.

"Uhh, etto..." Sogo stepped in, noticing their puzzled stares. "Riku-kun still needs help with his bandages. He can't use his hands much right now."

"So Iorin just wants Rikkun for himself."
Tamaki huffed, arms crossed like a sulking child denied candy.

Tenn's eye twitched again. Harder this time.

Some of the older members coughed or chuckled behind their hands.

"That's how it is, huh?" murmured Yamato, smirking.

Momo exchanged glances with Yuki, both positively sparkling with curiosity now.

"You guys settle down," Mitsuki declared as he stood up, clapping his hands. "I'll go wake Nagi before he buries himself under ten anime blankets again."

Sogo sweatdropped.

"Ah... I forgot about him..."

No sooner had he spoken than a high-pitched wail echoed from one of the dorm rooms.

"MITSUUUUUU!! DON'T THROW MY KOKONAAAAA! MY KOKONA DESUUU!! NO SHIT DESUUUUUU!! MY LIMITED EDITION KOKONAA BLANKETTT!!"

The room collectively sighed.

"Nagicchi, don't die..." Tamaki muttered with concern.
"Mikki kowai..."

"Is every morning this chaotic?" Gaku asked, raising an eyebrow.

Yamato nodded solemnly, as though remembering a war he barely survived.
"You've seen nothing. Mitsu's wrath is not for the weak at heart."

Meanwhile, Yuki turned back toward the group, face softening slightly.
"How's Riku-kun now? Any issues?"

Yamato exhaled, ruffling his own hair.
"He's stable, thankfully. But his hands'll take time. The swelling's going down slowly. Still can't grip anything properly."

His voice dropped a little.
"Damn that ossan."

Momo clenched his fists. The playful glint in his eye disappeared.
"Ryo-san has crossed the line this time."

Tenn, who had remained silent up till now, stared down at the floor.

He had wanted to ask the same thing—how Riku was really doing. Not just the surface level, but the quiet details. The kind you don't say aloud unless someone asks.

But he hadn't.

Why hadn't he?

He remembered the call. The chaos. The stillness in his chest that came the moment he heard his brother's name, followed by "injured."

He remembered the panic. The helplessness. The rage.

All of it coiled like a vice in his ribs.

He hadn't shown it. Couldn't show it. Not as Tenn of Trigger.

But he had nearly lost it when he heard Riku had been taken to the hospital.

'I should've been there... I should've protected him.'

He sighed softly, catching himself before he spiraled. His gaze lingered on the hallway where Riku had disappeared with Iori.

His brother was here now. Safe. Healing.

But still fragile.

Still hurt.

And Tenn hated it.

Not because he was angry at Riku—but because he couldn't bear to see the one person he loved most in the world bruised and broken again.

And what stung more than anything?

He wasn't the one Riku clung to when he woke up.

Tenn exhaled slowly and forced the tightness from his shoulders.

............................................................................

Trigger was in the middle of a tense discussion with Sasuke Yaotome when the office door slammed open.

Anesagi barged in, her expression pale and breath short.
"Please, turn on the television. Now."

Confused, Gaku grabbed the remote and switched to the news channel.

The headlines blared across the screen.

IDOLiSH7 CENTER NANASE RIKU ATTACKED DURING A FAN MEET!

BREAKING: NANASE RIKU ADMITTED TO HOSPITAL FOLLOWING SUDDEN ATTACK!

"What the hell?!" Gaku shouted, shooting up from his seat.

"Is Riku-kun okay?!" Ryuu added, brows furrowed in disbelief.

Tenn stood abruptly, gaze fixed, unmoving, as the news coverage continued.

News Reporter:
"We now bring you voices from fans present during the attack."

Random Fan 1:
"Riku-kun was smiling so brightly... then suddenly—something exploded in his hands. We couldn't see much after the guards stepped in, but Iori-kun... I could hear him screaming."

Random Fan 2:
"I—I saw blood. It was pouring from Riku-kun's hands..."

Random Fan 3:
"I saw Iori-san carrying him to the ambulance. He looked terrified, but he didn't waste a second. I just hope Riku-san gets better soon. We'll wait for you...!"

News Reporter:
"This tragedy occurred due to IDOLiSH7's center recklessly opening an unverified gift. The carelessness caused chaos at the venue. Takanashi Productions has yet to provide a formal statement."

Ryuu's fingers were already dialing. The other two hovered near.

Tsumugi answered the call quickly, her voice calm but weary.
"He's stable now. Still unconscious, but the doctors are monitoring him closely."

The three men exhaled in collective relief.

But Tenn—

Tenn stood frozen.

'Unconscious...?'

He swallowed, gaze flickering down. His fingers twitched slightly. His heart wouldn't stop racing. He wanted to ask. He wanted to go. But—

"Even if any of your members, your brother, or even I die—do not budge. You cannot let anything distract you. You are the next Zero."

Kujo's words echoed sharply in his mind.

Tenn didn't care about surpassing Zero. Never had. But he owed Kujo more than he could explain.

And still—Riku...

Gaku's voice snapped him out of his daze.

"Oi, brat. You sure you don't want to check on him? Ask how he's really doing?"

Tenn hesitated. Every part of him screamed yes.

But his lips moved without permission.

"You already asked. He's stable, right? Besides, he brought this on himself by being reckless."

The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. His chest twisted painfully.

"You little—!" Gaku snarled, grabbing Tenn's collar and yanking him forward.
"He's your otouto!"

Tenn didn't resist. He just stared at the floor and let Gaku shake him.

"Calm down, Gaku," Ryuu interjected gently. "Look at his face—he's pale as a ghost. He's clearly worried too."

Gaku clicked his tongue and let go, shoving Tenn lightly in frustration.

Tenn didn't respond. He didn't know how.

The conversation turned darker.

"This can't be a coincidence," Gaku muttered. "Trigger gets slammed with scandal... and now IDOLiSH7's center is hurt?"

Sasuke Yaotome nodded grimly.
"It's possible. This could be a message. A warning."

His eyes locked with Tenn's.

"They might be using Riku... to get to you."

The room fell silent.

Tenn clenched his fists.

He had always protected Riku by staying away.

By letting him live his own life, by being cold. Distant.

But this—this crossed the line.

If they had dared to hurt Riku to reach him...

Then Kujo's orders be damned.

Tenn would destroy Tsukumo Productions himself.

.......................................................................

The raven-haired boy sat silently beside the redhead, gently unwrapping the bandages around his partner's fingers. As the cloth came off, bruised skin and torn knuckles came into view. Iori's heart clenched at the sight. He could only treat the wounds — not erase the pain behind them.

Suddenly, Riku spoke, his soft voice breaking the quiet.

"Hey, Iori... did you do something so that the concert would be held in my hometown?"

Iori blinked, startled by the question.

"I wanted to ask you yesterday," Riku continued, eyes still focused on him, "but you looked really tired... so I waited. But can you tell me now?"

Iori looked away for a moment before answering, voice careful.

"Of course not. How could I possibly pull strings like that? It was just a coincidence. Besides... isn't it a great opportunity for you?"

Riku nodded slowly, but his gaze didn't waver.

"Hmm... you're right. But, I don't know, I feel like you're hiding something. Just a feeling. Still—" he smiled gently, "I know you'd never do anything that would hurt us."

Iori's face flushed faintly at the honesty in Riku's voice. He looked away again, this time flustered.

"How can you say such embarrassing things so easily, Nanase-san..." he muttered under his breath.

But Riku heard it, lips twitching into a playful frown.

"Hmph. I'm praising you and that's how you react?" he grumbled, crossing his arms slightly, a pout threatening to form.

Iori chuckled under his breath at the sulking.

The warm air between them turned serious again as Riku glanced at his hands, voice softening.

"Hey, Iori... don't you think if Tsukumo finds out about my family's situation... he might try to use it against Tenn-ni?"

That caught Iori off guard.

"...So you can think seriously when it's about your brother," he said, his tone teasing but thoughtful.

He let the moment settle before answering seriously.

"It's possible. Tsukumo might try something like that."

Riku looked at him, lips pressing together anxiously.

"But," Iori added, eyes now fixed on his friend, "he can't do much if an idol fulfills the wish of a fan."

Riku blinked, confused.
"Eh?"

But as the words sank in, realization lit his expression like sunrise.

His crimson eyes widened with sudden clarity — and sparkled with excitement.

"Oh...!" he gasped. A huge smile broke out on his face.

He looked like a child who had just discovered a hidden treasure, or a fan who had met their favorite idol. Iori couldn't help but chuckle.

That expression was so Riku — a kind of light that made you forget the darkness.

Then something stirred in Iori's memory.

"Nanase-san," he said suddenly, his voice softer now, "about my third question from yesterday..."

"Why I was scared of Tou-san, right?" Riku finished before he could.

Iori nodded silently, eyes gently urging the answer.

Riku stared at the floor for a moment.

"I was planning to tell everyone — all of I7 — before our concert in Miyagi." He looked up, gaze firm but tinged with sadness. "But since you asked first, I'll tell you tonight."

He stood slowly, legs a bit stiff, and walked toward the door.

"Till then," he added, pausing just before he stepped out, "all I can say is..."

"Desperate movements of wings don't break the cage... but the wings themselves."

And then he was gone.

Iori sat frozen, the bandages still in his hand, the weight of Riku's words echoing in his chest like a fading note after a performance.

..........................................................................

Soon after, the redhead emerged from the washroom, freshly changed. His steps were slow but sure, and he greeted everyone in the room with a small smile. His gaze lingered on one person.

Tenn.

He hesitated. Then, gathering his courage, he stepped forward and called out softly,

"T-Tenn-ni..."

The older twin turned his head slightly, pink bangs brushing his cheek as he looked at him.

Riku swallowed, nerves prickling under his skin.

"Um... Are you okay? After everything that happened? I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to call you..."

His voice was tentative, searching.

"And, um... after what happened to Trigger... how did Kujo-san react? I mean—are you okay?"

For a moment, there was silence.

The question seemed to hang in the air, heavier than expected.

The other members — IDOLiSH7, Re:vale, even Gaku and Ryuu — turned, startled by the unspoken implication.

Kujo Takamasa.
The man behind Tenn. Behind so many of their struggles.

No one had asked this yet — not out loud.

Tenn smirked. But it wasn't amusement that glinted in his eyes. It was something sharper. Sadder.

"You're asking me if I'm okay?" he repeated, voice low.

Riku nodded, eyes sincere despite the unease swirling in them.

Tenn stood slowly, his gaze locking onto his younger twin's.

"Before you start worrying about me, Riku..."
His voice grew harder.
"...why don't you think about your own recklessness?"

The words hit like a slap.

Riku froze, shoulders stiffening.

Tenn didn't stop.

"You made your teammates panic. Your fans cried. You almost got yourself killed — for what?"
His tone rose.
"Is that what it means to be a professional?"

Riku's lips parted, but no sound came. He lowered his eyes.

Tenn took a step closer.

"Is this how you want me to watch your concert?" he asked, voice almost trembling.
"Worried sick whether I'll have to buy tickets to your memorial next?"

That struck deep.

Riku's hands trembled as he curled them into fists.

His lungs tightened — not from his condition, but from the pain those words carved into his heart. He'd already been drowning in guilt. But Tenn's voice... it twisted the knife.

He lowered his head further, trying to breathe through the ache.

"Tch... not again, thought Iori as he approached the crimson mane. The other Ainana members looked furious as well. Yuki and Momo were just as worried about the twins. Gaku opened his mouth, ready to shout at his center, but Ryuu interrupted him.

"Tenn, calm down... you don't need to be so harsh on him."

Tenn hissed in reply, "Hnn... as if. He's an idol—taking care of his own safety is his responsibility. And opening something before getting it checked? How naive are you?"

Riku felt his heart pounding, tears welling in his eyes. He bit his lips hard to stop them from falling. With shaky breaths, he stuttered, "G... gomen..."

Suddenly, Iori pulled back the crimson mane and stood firmly in front of him. Tenn wanted to protest but couldn't muster the courage to speak.

"What do you want now, Izumi Iori?" Tenn asked, voice stern and gaze fierce. But Iori didn't budge.

While Tamaki embraced Riku from behind, Iori still held the red mane's wrist as he spoke, "Kujo-san, don't pester our center and fill him with unnecessary thoughts."

"That's right. Tenn Nanase is still recovering, and of course it isn't his fault he wasn't aware this would happen," said Gaku, obviously agreeing with Iori.

"That's right, Kujoshi. It wasn't Riku's fault. We'll be more careful next time," said Nagi, who never liked seeing the twins fight but still wanted to defend the redhead.

"Don't scream at him, Kujo. He just came back yesterday, and all of this is Tsukumo's fault," said Yamato with a sigh. He had expected this to happen. Tenn tsked at that name — of course, it was all because of that old man.

"T... that's right, Kujo-san. It wasn't Riku-kun's fault, and yet he still feels sorry," said Sogo softly.

"Yes, that's right. Riku is pure and innocent — of course he wouldn't think someone could have such malicious thoughts," said Mitsuki, while the other Ainana members nodded in agreement.

"Yes, Tenten, don't be rude to Rikkun. If I were in his place, I'd have done the same thing," said Tamaki, still faithfully embracing Riku. The others just sweatdropped, thinking, That's not really what you're supposed to say...

Tenn, hearing all the IDOLiSH7 members, cursed under his breath. He knew they were the reason Riku felt comfortable in the entertainment world, but he also knew the day they left his side, Riku would break into pieces.

"Tsk... Are you planning to hide behind them your entire life, Riku? As they protect you... Hnnn... One day, they'll see you as a hindrance and just throw you away," Tenn said fiercely, his gaze locking onto the Ainana members.

The IDOLiSH7 members' eyes twitched at his words. Iori felt a slight tug at his back and immediately knew who it was.

"Oii, Tenn, you're crossing the line. He was just asking about your well-being," Gaku said, honestly confused whenever Tenn acted so harshly toward his own brother.

Ryuu panicked too, holding Tenn back as his fury clearly grew.

"Don't be childish, Kujo-san. We're not like you who'd just leave him alone. I, Izumi Iori, will forever stay by his side," Iori declared.

Tenn raised an eyebrow at the statement. "Who do you think you are to him, hnn? I'm his twin. If you don't even know why I left, don't interfere," he hissed, clearly annoyed by Iori's claim. He knew they were close, but he always felt irritated by how Iori constantly acted like Riku belonged to him.

"That's because you refuse to tell him, Kujo-san, even though you promised," Iori said flatly, tightening his grip on the crimson mane.

"Because it isn't important for him to know," Tenn replied, trying to break free from Ryuu's hold on him.

Iori's voice grew sharper. "Hnn, how can you say that, Kujo-san? You can't decide that for him. This guy,"—he gestured toward Riku—"came all the way here just to find you, just to learn the truth. Do you know how much his life depends on this?" His last words were almost a shout, charged with frustration. He knew how much Riku had struggled just to uncover a single truth.

Tenn grumbled in annoyance. Of course, he was well aware of all that. But why did this raven-haired man talk as if he knew everything about his own younger brother? Tenn was the one who stood by Riku's side when he almost died. He was the one who held his hand, reassured him, and yes—he was the one who left. But everything he did was for his younger brother's sake. Still, he couldn't say it out loud yet. If he did, all the effort he'd made to keep Riku at a distance would be undone.

He took a deep breath to calm himself before saying coldly, "That doesn't concern me."

Iori bit his lip, frustrated. No matter how hard he tried to get Tenn to open up—so his partner could finally move forward—Kujo remained stubbornly closed off.

Riku, meanwhile, knew his members had always been there for him. When they defended him, he felt overwhelmed. He wasn't sure whether to apologize for the trouble he'd caused or to thank them for their loyalty. But deep down, he was still terrified—afraid that one day, those who stood by his side would turn away, leaving him grasping for hands he couldn't reach.

When he heard his twin's harsh words, tears rolled down his cheeks. Hindrance... throw you... The phrases echoed over and over in his mind. Then, he looked at the back of a certain raven-haired head and remembered the gentle embrace, the promise whispered softly: I won't leave you ever.

He tugged on Iori's arm, letting go of Tamaki's embrace. When Iori declared he would stay by his side forever, a confusing mix of happiness and sadness washed over him, and more tears spilled down his face. He finally knew for certain he would always find his partner.

Then his gaze fell on the baby pink mane—his brother—who refused to reveal the reason for his departure. Was he not worth knowing? Was it truly all his fault?

His hope of reconciliation with Tenn began to shatter when his brother coldly said, That doesn't concern me.

Was he really a hindrance to his baby pink brother all these years? That his existence meant nothing?

He had proudly declared he would make his brother notice him—but what if Tenn had never even considered him?

The more he thought about it, the harder the tears came. He felt the same self-disgust he thought he had overcome... or so he had believed.

The Ainana members were caught in a storm of sadness, fury, and disappointment—emotions they themselves could hardly untangle. They saw their center in tears, and the sight filled them with a deep, aching hatred for the situation. Tamaki's fists clenched tightly; he wanted nothing more than to punch Tenn then and there, but Sogo's calm hand on his shoulder stopped him. Tamaki loathed it when Sou-chan held him back at such critical moments.

Yamato, as the leader, hated seeing any member cornered—especially their center. Though he knew this was a deeply personal matter, he silently vowed that if this pain affected their center further, he would never forgive Kujo.

Mitsuki, acting as an elder brother figure, struggled to comprehend the harshness in Tenn's words. He could never imagine speaking so coldly to Iori, even when the latter had been a bit reckless in his youth. Mitsuki had never known the full circumstances, but he empathized with Tenn—the weight of being forced to despise one's own brother.

Nagi, disappointed in Kujo, thought bitterly that whatever the problem was, it could have been solved if only Tenn had trusted his younger brother even a little. Tears slipped down his cheeks as he was still sheltered behind Iori.

Sogo wanted to say something—anything—but he felt it was a personal matter beyond his place to interfere. Yet, like the others, he hated to see those crimson eyes fill with tears.

Meanwhile, Trigger was visibly upset by their center's broken spirit. Re:vale members watched silently, sensing the tension had crossed a line—now was the time to step in.

Tenn's gaze fell upon the tears tracing paths down the red beads. He cursed himself—again and again—for hurting the one person he cherished most. But he felt trapped behind a facade he could not yet break. Not until the day he succeeded in making Riku leave the entertainment world.

Without a word, Tenn walked to the dining table, sat down heavily, and laid his head on the cold surface. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to hold back the tears. Not yet. Not now.

Riku's gaze followed Tenn as he moved away, his voice barely above a whisper, "Tenn-ni..." — words only the raven mane could hear. Iori sensed the silent tears slipping down his partner's cheeks.

Slowly, he loosened his grip on the red mane's wrist and turned around, meeting those crimson eyes glistening with tears. Without hesitation, Iori wrapped his arms around Riku from behind, pulling him close. His hands moved gently in soothing circles along Riku's back, rocking him back and forth.

It hasn't been long, Iori thought quietly, and yet here he is, crying again. I shouldn't have let things escalate like this.

His voice softened to a gentle murmur. "Shhh... it's okay... remember, I said we're here. You don't need to carry it all alone... shhh."

Riku's trembling body nodded against Iori's shoulder, seeking comfort in the embrace. Iori's lips parted unconsciously, and a soft, teasing murmur escaped him—words that immediately drew the attention of the others nearby:

"You're quite cute when you're obedient, Nanase-san."

Riku didn't realize what had been said. All he knew was that, clinging to Iori, he wished desperately for his tears to stop. He didn't want to cry in front of everyone, but the weight of it all was too much to hold in.

"Ohh, Ichii, you've been into those kinds of things, huh?" smirked Yamato, shifting the mood with a playful grin.

"Not good, junior Izumi! You're underage," Yuki chimed in with a mock scolding, joining the teasing.

"Iori, you've really grown up... but please, remember to use protection!" Mitsuki cried out, half-serious, half-joking.

Momo blinked rapidly, clearly surprised. "I never knew you had such a weird kink, Iorin."

"Ohhhhh, so it's you and Nanase, huh?" Gaku joined in, grinning mischievously.

Ryuu turned partially red and said, "I think I shouldn't have heard that..."

From the corner, Tenn's gaze darkened as the teasing hit a nerve. He snapped back to reality, restraining himself from pulling Riku away from Iori's arms.

"Iori-kun, I don't remember giving you permission just yet," Sogo said calmly, clearly understanding Tenn's tension.

Tamaki opened his mouth to say something supportive, but was quickly cut off by a blushing Iori, who raised his voice, "That's not what I meant!" His sudden outburst made the crimson mane in his arms flinch.

Noticing this, Iori softened his touch, stroking Riku's hair and gently rubbing his back to soothe him.

Feeling calmer now, the redhead excused himself quietly and exited the living room.

As he left, his eyes met those of the baby pink mane, who looked hurt and distant. Tenn's thoughts spiraled again: Tenn-ni, don't confuse me more... it's unfair...