Chapter Text
The crowd cheers, the booming noise sweeps across the stadium as the Believe 4 Leaves soundtrack echoes into silence. Aira waits until Tatsumi steps forward to relax from his stance. His Phantom Airship cape flows elegantly behind him.
“Thank you, everyone, for coming out tonight,” he says with a shallow bow. “I hope you all enjoyed the show.” The audience erupts into applause. Aira hears Tatsumi laugh quietly into his mic.
Mayoi moves up beside him. “We had an excellent time performing for you all,” he says, bowing.
Aira’s palms itch as he joins Tatsumi and Mayoi at the foot of the stage. “We hope you guys liked today’s setlist! That was Vermilion, Living on the edge, and Believe 4 Leaves,” he recites, feeling a deep pang of relief as he shifts backwards.
“Umu! I hope you all had as much fun as we did!” Hiiro says, coming up behind him. He enthusiastically waves to the audience, bouncing between his feet.
Tatsumi bows once more. “Goodnight, everyone, and farewell for now.” He dips back behind the curtain, Mayoi in tow.
“Goodnight, everyone! Get home safely!” Aira shouts, waving in wide arches as he follows his seniors out.
“Thank you, everyone!” He hears Hiiro shout, “until next time!”
Tatsumi waves to the stage crew as they walk back to the dressing rooms. Aira scratches at the belts of his gloves, anxiously awaiting the moment he can take them off.
Tonight’s live went smoothly with no setbacks and only minimal errors, none being too major or noticeable. He was worried he was going to get tongue tied in his stage lines, just as he had in the past, but his year of experience weighed in his favor. He feels light with relief.
As Alkaloid’s dressing room comes into view, Aira picks up on the sound of thundering footsteps reverberating behind him. He stumbles to a stop, turning around in urgency and curiosity—only to be tackled by Hiiro.
“Hey!” he shouts, “watch it!” Aira grumbles as he steadies himself. “What are you doing?” Hiiro laughs giddily, the noise muffled by Aira’s shoulder. Aira growls at him, trying to shake him off. Hiiro’s grip around his arms only tightens. Aira groans in defeat, waddling himself and Hiiro to the dressing room. Mayoi holds the door open for them. He thanks him as he pulls himself and Hiiro through and into the room. “Okay, we’re here now. You can get off.” He says.
“We should have another live soon,” Hiiro proposes, arms still around Aira’s shoulders. Aira rolls his eyes. He’s too tired to even think about another live.
Full-scale lives like this always have him sleeping on the ride back.
“Of course, but you and Aira-san have school coming up,” Tatsumi reminds him. “Perhaps, you should focus on that,” he says, brushing off his suit as he puts it on a hanger.
Hiiro hums, “Umu, that’s right...” he says quietly in realization.
Aira pries himself free from Hiiro’s grasp. “Right, so why don’t you go put your stuff away so we can go home,” Aira tells him. He marches over to the mirrors, sitting down on the chair left of Mayoi.
“Are you excited for the new school year, Aira-san?” Mayoi asks, placing down a plastic container of makeup wipes next to him.
“It’s just gonna be the same thing as last year,” he says, not feeling too optimistic. Idol school, he’s come to learn, is just as boring as regular school.
“I am. I think this year will be a lot better, now that I know all the rules.” Hiiro says, taking off his gloves.
“You’re excited? For school?” Aira asks, skeptical.
“Yeah, I’ll get to see all my friends again.”
“You live in the same building, you can see them any day.”
“Umu, but that’s different…” Aira can agree with him there. Seeing people he knows at school is different, in a worse way. “Did you find out what class you’re in?” Hiiro asks, slotting a hanger into the sleeves of his jacket.
“Uh, yeah. 2-B.” Aira announces, untying the laces of his boots, “same one as Kohakucchi.” he adds, slipping them off and replacing them with his regular shoes.
“Ahh, how lovely,” Mayoi says with a light laugh, “sharing a class with your best friend…”
“Yeah, maybe that’ll be nice,” Aira says as he fumbles with the belts on his gloves, loosening them just enough that he can wiggle his hands free. He places them on the counter, stopping to gawk at the reflection of light caught on his ebony black nails.
“The best of my school days were when I was with HiMERU-san,” he hears Tatsumi say. Aira stares at his nails painted black. He didn’t paint his nails. He brushes a finger over the nail of his thumb. Or at least, he doesn’t remember painting his nails… No, he swears he never painted his nails. So why...?
Aira stares. Sits and stares. He pulls a makeup wipe from the plastic container. The inky colour doesn’t budge even with a steady wipe.
He sighs, conceding with the unnatural dye. He’ll figure it out later, he supposes.
He turns to the mirror, using the makeup wipe to clear the concealer underneath his eyes. As he wipes the concealer off, he reveals the skin underneath, flushed pink and… freckled? Aira doesn’t have freckles. What? The hell? First with his nails and now with this?
He leans closer to the mirror. Moving the cloth in a wider radius, he reveals more small freckles dotted along the underneath of his eye.
“Everything alright, Aira-san?” Mayoi asks from the seat beside him.
“Oh- yeah.” Aira startles. He forgot he was there. “I was just looking at something…” He wipes down his other cheek, freckles reveal themselves there too. “I think it’s just the makeup wipe,” he dismisses with a chuckle.
“Oh, I hope they didn’t dry out.” Mayoi says, frowning, “I’m sorry for providing you with such faulty wipes, Aira-san…” he drones, voice shaky.
“No, no, it’s okay. I’ve gotta take a shower tonight either way, so it’s fine.” he reassures Mayoi, and himself.
Maybe it's the makeup, perhaps that’s done something to his skin. He hopes it’s not something like an allergic reaction. He feels fine though. His face doesn’t hurt or anything. There’s a good chance that it’s probably harmless. He hopes.
He wipes down the rest of his face, throws the cloth in the bin sitting nearby, takes his boots by the lace and his gloves off the desk, and wades over to the closet with his garment bag. There, he can put his shoes and gloves, as well as his jacket and any other accessories he doesn't want to carry back. He’ll leave the undershirt and pants on, waiting until they get home to change.
He packs his luggage in the bag and zips it up. Hiiro saunters up behind him, his own garment bag cradled between his legs.
He leans closer to Aira, his eyes narrowing.
“Aira has little freckles,” Hiiro notes.
“I saw that too.” Aira sighs. Well at least he knows that he’s not crazy. “But, ah, who knows, it might just be the makeup or something.”
“Are you allergic?” Tatsumi asks, tucking away his clothes into his bag. He pauses momentarily to glance at Aira.
“Ah- well, I don’t know. If I am, it's not serious at least…” he laughs shily.
“Was it the brand? Maybe you could switch to a different brand..” Mayoi suggests.
“Right, we wouldn’t want you to have an allergic reaction on stage,” Tatsumi says, “or at all, for that matter.” The three of them crowd around him.
“I’m fine, really…” He assures with a wave of his hand. He fidgets with his garment bag. “Erm, I’m ready to go, if you guys are,” He says, looking at the ground.
Tatsumi hums, “oh, of course.” He looks to the other members, “is everyone ready?” he asks. The other two nod, cradling their bags between their legs in a similar fashion. “Alright then.” he says simply, taking his car keys from his pocket as he heads towards the exit. The three of them follow after. Mayoi turns the room lights off as he passes through the door.
The car ride back is long. Aira spends the duration of it staring at his nails. After some time, their color returns to normal. The pale pink of his nail beds bleed into the inky black cornered at the edges, eventually stripping the nails free from the dark stain.
An allergic reaction wouldn’t justify a change in the color of his nails, he thinks. At least, to such a degree. It’d be one thing if it was a slight change in hue or a minor tint, but this was a solid deep black, coloured throughout the whole nail. He wonders if there’s an answer to this on the internet somewhere. Now that it’s gone, he doesn’t see the worth in making a scene over it, but it might be worth a quick online search.
Alkaloid returns to Ensemble Square at almost midnight. They trek up the stairs, pulling along their luggage. At the doors to the lobby sits a dead bird.
Hiiro walks up to it, peering over it with curiosity.
“Hiro-kun! Don’t touch that!” Aira calls after him.
“I wasn’t going to,” Hiiro says calmly. Aira grabs him by the arm, just to be sure. “It’s another songbird. Do you think it’s the same one from this morning?” he asks.
“Does it matter? It’s gross. C’mon.” Aira tells him as he pulls him away from the corpse.
Dead birds have become a regular sighting in the past few days. Something out there brings them to these steps almost every morning. The thought of it makes Aira cringe. As cruel as it is, it’s also terribly unsanitary. Whoever usually cleans them up hasn’t come today, and Aira doesn’t blame them. He doesn’t even want to look at it, let alone touch it.
He ushers Hiiro into the lobby with the rest of their luggage. Mayoi and Tatsumi trail slowly after them, keeping an even pace between them until they reach Alkaloid’s office space. Aira unpacks his outfit, making use of their changing room to swap back into his casual clothes. He then slots the uniform into their storage closet, slipping a box with his shoes in it underneath.
Aira returns to the Starpro lobby to find Hiiro and Mayoi slumped in the office chairs, resting their heads against the desks. He collapses into the chair beside Hiiro, who picks up his head as Aira sits down. Aira stretches, tired.
“Aira’s freckles are gone,” Hiiro whispers over.
“Hm, yeah, was probably just some… reaction.” Aira determines. He yawns, covering his mouth with his hand.
Tatsumi emerges into the office. “Sorry for keeping everyone waiting,” he says, coming to stand behind Hiiro’s chair. “Are we ready to leave?” he asks. Aira nods, pulling himself up from his seat. Hiiro follows suit, waiting for Tatsumi to move before getting up. “Mayoi-san?” Tatsumi calls. Mayoi doesn’t stir, sleeping soundly on the desk, his hair wildly cascading around him. Tatsumi prods him on the shoulders, “Oh my,” he says astoundingly. Mayoi shifts, raising his head slightly. His hair falls from his face, revealing one hazily blinking eye. “How sleepy.” He chuckles, “shall I carry you home?”
Mayoi bolts up, chair crashing against the floor as it tips back. Mayoi jumps again, “Ah! Sorry, sorry.” Tatsumi helps him pick up the chair, arranging it firmly against the desk.
“I was being sincere in my offer,” he says, gently cradling Mayoi’s fingertips in his hand. Mayoi shrinks into himself, a dark blush casting over his cheeks.
“We’re leaving now,” Aira announces, pulling Hiiro along and out the door.
After a late night live, Alkaloid usually takes the route back to Seisoukan together. Tonight is no different with the four of them padding down the sidewalk, walking at a leisurely pace. Aira admires the moon, in its crescent form, beaming brightly down at them. The cold spring breeze whistles by. He shivers, thankful to see Seisoukan just up ahead.
He enters the lobby first, holding the door open for Hiiro, who holds it open for Mayoi, who holds it open for Tatsumi. The lobby is quiet and dimly lit, with a few others straying around the kitchen, enjoying a midnight snack. Tatsumi waves to them as they board the elevator. They disperse to their rooms as the elevator travels up the floors. Aira is let off last, yawning as he clambers out.
Upon arriving to his room, he immediately gathers his things to take a shower. He checks over his face and nails in the bathroom mirror, all of which appear normal. He sighs, confused, but too tired to mull over it anymore. Aira readies his shower and moves on from the strange occurrence. School is just on the horizon; he needs to focus on more immediate things. It was probably just a one-time thing anyways. Probably.