Work Text:
In, out, pull the thread tight, tread another crystal, in, out, pull the thread tight, thread another crystal.
Shu’s glad to be back in his little quaint office in the Cos Pro building. Away from the main hallways and the recording rooms where sound would leak through, tucked away in a far corner of the Cos Pro building. Saegusa had allowed him a little studio office of sorts that had been previously used as storage as part of Valkyrie’s contract when Shu had complained about a lack of a proper work space.
As nice as the dressing rooms were, they were hardly meant for creating clothing and he most certainly couldn't constantly return to Yumenosaki’s handicraft room. Yes, this space fit what Shu needed quite nicely. It was about as quiet as you can get while still being in ES, only a short walk from the dorms, and was easily accessible for the few people who knew how to find it.
Actually Shu was expecting a visitor today. It's just a matter of how he'll announce his arrival and his means of crowbarring into Shu’s space.
This visitor is also late.
It was almost sundown when there was a knock at the window.
Shu scowls but he places his needle down and gets up from his seat.
Knocking on the window was the one and only performer extraordinaire, Hibiki Wataru himself.
Shu slides the window to let the clown in, choosing not to mention how his studio is on the seventh floor. “you're late.”
“My sincerest apologies dear Shu but I happened to lose track of time,” Wataru fakes an apologetic expression.
“Hogwash” Shu scowls again “you have an internal clock better than the sun. Lost track of time my foot. Now undress before you waste anymore of my precious time.”
Wataru obediently obeys and sheds his clothing until he's just in his briefs. Shu hands him the petticoat first and he slips it on with skilled fingers.
From his desk, Shu retrievers what he was working on earlier, the simpler half of a gown, billowing satin skirt, a layer of lace, minor silver detailing at the trim and western Cinderella inspired ‘hip swags’ as the media had dubbed them. Shu had whined and complained about these so called ‘hip swags’ when bustles were the clear and obvious correct design choice but he conceded because only one person can annoy him to the point of forced defeat.
Shu helps Wataru into the skirt, hyperfocused on not damaging the lace. Once it was securely on, Wataru did a full spin and the skirt billowed and bounced, hitting Shu on the legs. The small smile on Wataru's face told him he was happy with the damn hip sways and the volume.
But there was something off about his expression.
He was… distracted.
In return for complying with the blasted hip swags, Wataru had granted Shu full liberty over the bodice. A simple sweetheart neckline and off the shoulder balloon sleeves instead of the atrocity that is the animated dress. The neckline was treated with small crystals glitters as the fabric shifts, faint rainbows being casted on the studio walls and the sleeves were of the same lace used for the skirt.
Once again careful of the lace, Shu helped Wataru slide into the sleeves and once he was comfortable Shu began lacing up the back.
It was peaceful.
Too peaceful.
When HibikI Wataru was quiet there were two options. One, he was scheming and more than likely involved Shu popping a blood vessel, or two, Wataru was warned out to the point of silence.
Neither seemed right for this moment.
So the clear answer is the ever present third option. There was something, someone troubling Wataru, someone that would drag his mind up to the clouds.
But that can wait until after they finish this fitting, the show was only a week away and the single most eye catching piece of the whole show must be utter perfection
When Shu finished lacing the back, Wataru tries to turn but Shu stops him, nose upturned, “bold of you to assume it's just skirt and bodice.”
“Fufu, of course, of course, I was simply eager to see what this masterpiece looks like” Wataru smiles, hands feeling the smooth structure of the bodice and the individual threads of the lace.
“Well, if you're so eager, take a seat at the vanity and put the crystal earrings on and then I'll help you with the heels.” Shu had gathered a shoe box and an unlabeled one.
Shu brushed out Wataru's hair as he fiddled with the earring clasps.
Once the earrings were on, Wataru turned in his seat and Shu knelt down and helped slip on a pair of simple white heels.
“Oho, how lucky I am to have the ItsukI Shu on one knee for me” Wataru was looking at Shu with mirth in his eyes.
Shu resisted the urge to rip a heel off and throw it at his face, “please, there are many others I'd rather get on one knee for before I'd even consider you.”
Watary laughs at his response “Alright alright, let me see this dress in its entirety now.”
Wataru, now ten centimeters taller thanks to the heels, carefully walked over to where the full body mirror is propped against the wall.
The gasp of surprise strokes Shu's ego quite well.
“Oh Shu, this is simply beautiful, you really outdid yourself for this” Wataru turns and twists to see the crystals reflect the last bits of sun coming through the windows.
Watching Wataru gawk in awe of the bodice and skirt is nice but as much as Shu hates to admit it, there was something missing. Something that was unlabeled and still on the vanity.
Shu quietly passed the box to Wataru. When Wataru opened the box his eyes widened and he turned to Shu “how did you acquire this? Don't tell me you bought it to complete the look. It's worth at least a small fortune!”
Shu would love to feed into Watarus false beliefs but he shook his head no “someone wanted this to be part of the final costume.”
“But who would go to this kind of extreme? These are genuine swarovski crystals, and the only time I've even seen them was as part of the special outfits fine had commissioned for the midnight live a few months back..”
Shu watches as Wataru connects all the dots, as realization sinks in.
Wealthy enough to spend an exorbitant amount on jewelry, someone with connections to fine and more importantly, someone who would give anything to Wataru.
Wataru doesn't speak, just takes the necklace out of the box and slips it around his neck.
“Oh…” Wataru can't stop staring at the necklace.
Shu busies himself with decluttering his desk but internally he wonders what Wataru’s thinking.
Was this unexpected even for him? When that person had knocked on Shu's door a few days ago, Shu had been ready to send him away with a few choice words but before he could, that person hands him a box and gives him a pleading, almost embarrassed look before turning on his heel and walking away. Shu was initially tempted to toss the box away without a second thought but his darling Kagehira had convinced him into at least checking the contents before discarding it.
Shu almost wishes he hadn't but it was also then that he realized what the purpose was.
Even now Shu can't quite piece together the reason behind it all and as much as it disturbs him, it's possible he may never find out.
Watching from the sidelines now, Shu can't help but admit that the scene before him was one of a kind. Wataru truly did look the part of fairy tale princess in the gown, bright eyes and long silvery hair, the palpable excitement radiating off him. Long neck now properly accessorized, pale broad shouldered, cinched waist giving to voluminous skirt, the perfect to be princess.
Well.
Almost perfect.
A princess shouldnt look as… hollow as he did.
Shu hopes he isn’t going to regret what he's about to ask. “Did you and Tenshouin have a falling out?” It was less a question, more something Shu already knew the answer to.
Wataru takes Shu's hand and pulls them towards the open area of Shu's studio, “would you be upset if I said I don't know either?”
Shu stares at him, deadpan and beginning to regret asking “you truly had to fall for the worst of the worst”
Wataru laughs, closer to the bubbling sound Shu had grown accustomed to, “yes, yes I did,”
Shu's hand is settled on Watarus waist and his on Shu's shoulder. They sway to an imaginary song, one that Tsukinaga had scribbled on the walls the moment Wataru had announced their next production. It was easy to fall in step with Wataru, ever so skilled at adapting to his partner.
“Well do tell then, the events leading up to your current mood.”
“Oh? I thought you couldn't care less about my affairs with Eichi?” The teasing tone is back.
“Well excuse me for trying to be a good friend to a certain numbskulled fool.” If Wataru notices the hand on his waist pinching him, he doesn't react.
“Fufu well then this clown will humor your attempt at being a ‘good friend’ but if you ask me I think you're absolutely lovely whether you try or not” Wataru's eyes crinkle at the edges.
He’s terrible really, pushy and even more of a perfectionist than Shu. He'll drop a metaphorical bomb in your lap then have the gull to look offended when you accuse him of it. He has the power, the skill to drag you into the pits of despair if he so chooses, the power to break someone into unrepairable hollow shells of whom they once were because for someone like him, everyone else is a simple pebble that he can kick away. Yet even with all that power he chooses to nurture the fledgling that willingly or mistakenly, flocked to him. He chooses love as the answer to everything when they all know it's not, chooses to believe in the best of people even after he's being shunned, stabbed and executed.
Shu hates that he understands why Tenshouin fell to the depths of hell for Wataru. Wataru is a fascinating person, the most nonhuman of them all. He defies carefully mapped out logic with the flick of his wrist and will laugh from his stomach when he watches you struggle to regain footing. But that’s exactly what makes him HibikI Wataru,
“Get on with it then”
“How do you know if someone loves you?”
Ah.
Shu pauses and he slows their movements to a halt. He doesn't know what to say, because what do you say to that? What do you say to the lonely bird that's always flown too high for anyone to reach?
“It's ok if you don’t have an answer,” Wataru smiles, it's fake and hollow and Shu wants to slap it off his face.
“I don’t. I'm the wrong person to ask this to,” Shu exhales and squeezes the hand that's holding Wataru’s, “but I'll try anyway.”
“Love… is wanting someone to be happy,”
Shu thinks back on his relationship with kagehira. Just some years ago he couldn't have cared less and now his heart bounces off his ribs every time his kagehira, his beautiful mika, smiles and laughs.
“Love is accepting every little fault and horrible part of them,”
Wataru’s smile grows tense.. Shu understands. He understands far too well that sometimes, people start out as an image in your head and it becomes hard to distinguish them from the person you think they are.
“Love, and maybe this is preposterous of me, but it’s willing to raise hell itself for them if need be” Shu smiles to himself at this one. Ibara wasn't happy the first time but that's no matter when he'd gladly raise hell and bring heaven to its knees if his Kagehira needed it.
“Fufu, is this an admission of infatuation for Kagehira I hear?” Wataru laughs, and pulls Shu back towards the vanity. He situates himself on the vanity chair and begins to take off his eattings.
“You act like this is the first time.”
“Oh no, everytime we go for drinks Kagehira-kun is all you blab about, it's quite endearing how open you are about it” His tone is sad. Shu can smell the unintentional envy.
Shu is awkwardly standing behind Wataru, he's sure his tense frame can be seen in the mirror. But his comfort doesn't matter right now.
“If he can't come out of his fragile shell and tell it to you directly, he doesn’t deserve you.” Watarus avoiding his eyes even through the mirror, “he's a coward and I’ll be damn if I just watch without at least telling you that you shouldn't settle for garbage when you could be happy and living your life without having to question something like this”
“I know.”
Of course he does. The line of possible romantic candidates is long, not quite enough to rival that of Rei's but Shu wouldn't be surprised if it one day did. With his fame of being one of ES’s top idols and being the hottest name in theater, Wataru has no shortage of potential suitors.
“Yet you chose Tenshouin.” Shu holds in a sigh.
“I did.”
Sometimes Shu hates Tenshouin not because of what had happened all those years ago but because of the incessant torture he causes Wataru with his unwavering stupidity. Everyone can see the depths of Wataru's affections, everyone except the recipient.
“You need to tell him.”
“Tell him what?”
“How your feel since that coward would rather push a stake through his own heart before he finds enough courage to confront the obvious” Wataru looks pained but Shu continues “properly, not behind poetic words because we all know he's a dolt when it comes to emotions”
Shu settles beside Wataru on the small vanity bench meant for one person and Wataru ungraciously curls into Shu's shoulder.
“I know… but I barely know how”
“The great HibikI Wataru at a lack for words? Please I highly doubt that, this feels more like your inability to speak without unnecessary prose” Wataru continues to squish his nose into Shu.
“How about a letter?”
“I've tried that but he didn't react”
“Are you sure it's just because he didn't understand whatever Shakespeareian throw up you plastered on paper?”
Wataru groans and Shu knows he's right.
“How about we retry this but without the extra flourishes, I have some stationary in my bottom drawer, go and try”
Sounds of protest were already bubbling out of Wataru's throat but the one thing Shu's learned after so many years is that some people just won't do what their told if there's no one around to force them to do it so Shu tuts his tongue and pushes the clown off his shoulder and towards Shu's cluttered desk.
Wataru makes a noise similar to Mika and begrudgingly pulls away and stomps to Shu's desk, heels clicking against the wooden floors. He shifts the needles, beading, and lace aside and pulls out some extra paper and a fountain pen.
It could be the nerves or it could be the several years of tedious self training, but Wataru sits with perfect posture, the only movement being the flick of his wrists.
Shu can hear the soft scrap of metal on paper. The pause and tap tap tap of restless fidgeting then continued scratching. The smooth swoosh of exaggerated first characters that even out to small continuous strokes.
It’s times like these where the magic melts away, no longer is Wataru the great prodigy or the superhuman, he’s just a barely adult like the rest of them who doesn't know how to express his emotions. The perfect actor on stage is also the bumbling fool that gets flustered from excessive praise and half the time says the wrong thing because his mouth spits out gibberish faster than his mind can process words. For as amazing as he is, Wataru is still undeniably human and sometimes, humans need help to take the first steps.
Shu waits patiently from the vanity, watches papers with crossed out lines fall to the floor, the crinkling of paper marred with ill fitting words and meanings. The sharp swipes over an unsatisfactory line. The stash of plain paper in the bottom drawer is quickly shrinking and the floor below their feet is quickly being hidden away. Maybe not quite in the same way, but Shu knows when someone is struggling to create something satisfactory.
Half an hour they spend like that. And then another in silence. Wataru's pen had stopped, back still rigid straight, not from training this time but from inner turmoil. The neat stack of papers is now reduced to crumpled feats of defeat on the floor and when Shu finally steps to Wataru's side, there are messy blots of ink staining Wataru's fingers and the desk.
“Are you just going to keep sitting here and mope in your own depression?” Shu tries his best to act like he wasn't bothered by Wataru's lack of energy.
“Ah, my apologies Shu, I'll have these replaced-”
“Go home you clown, and don't act like this wasn't my idea in the first place.”
“Mn alright dear friend then at least let me-”
“Non! Absolutely not!”
“But-”
“If you are so desperate to repay me for what is worth a handful of coins then go home and take care of yourself!”
Wataru looks stunned, Shu would be as well if this was a few years ago but he's gotten better at expressing what he thinks, he just wishes that he could help Wataru do the same.
Chuckling, Wataru complies, “just do me one more favor, please get rid of these failures.”
Failures they are not. Shu makes a sound that sounds like agreement and Wataru doesn't push further.
The dress is returned to the mannequin, heels neatly sat beside it, the jewelry returned to their rightful boxes. Shu seats himself at his desk again and Wataru quietly slips out of the window.
Shu waits until he can be sure Wataru is gone.
Internally apologizing to Wataru, Shu picks up and smoothes each page of crumpled emotions. There's splattered ink on the last few, from when Wataru stabbed the page and the ink shot out, others of angry dissatisfied scratches, of lines crossed out, rewritten and then crossed out again. Contrary to popular belief Wataru has terrible handwriting when he's not trying. What would be carefully controlled lines and dots change to unintelligible loops that only one person can decipher.
Every last attempt at putting emotion to paper gets slipped into a manilla folder. Regardless of how crumpled or ripped, Shu believes that each is an unintentional showcase of Watarus emotions. Thus they all have to be delivered and hopefully the recipient can glean the meaning behind rushed swipes in the wrong direction that leave a small shower of ink drops.
It's not foolproof, nothing is when it comes to them but Shu hopes that this time it works unlike the many other times he has already tried to meddle.
When Shu leaves, manilla envelope in hand, the necklace sparkles from the vanity.
For their sake Shu hopes.
—
It's nice being able to see his own creation on stage.
Shu is seated in the first row of the loge section with Kagehira beside him. It's a reserved seat that Wataru had used as ‘payment’ for designing his dress and admittedly, Wataru does have an eye for the best seats. The music reverberates in Shu’s bones and the echo of Wataru's voice rings through the air.
Cinderella has finally made it to the ball, glass slippers clacking against the waxed ballroom floor. A musical number about her excitement and joy, about the sparkling lights and joyful voices. Cinderella spins with the crowd, switching partners every twelfth beat. Shu will have to give his compliments to the ensemble later because the whole dozen of them somehow managed to execute Wataru's tedious footwork without error.
They spin and twirl for another minute before the spotlight is on Wataru alone. The instruments have been silenced and his voice, a perfect recreation of what a princess should sound like, echoes through the theatre. Gradually the music and ensemble join in and then everything flickers black.
A singular spotlight is pointed to the highest part of the stage. The prince stands, dawning white and gold, and continues the song.
Shu is too far to see the exact way Wataru's face morphs, but the unbridled surprise and love is hard to miss. Even with the shock, Wataru doesn't miss a beat and takes the prince's hand in their infamous waltz. They sweep across the stage and Wataru’s dress is like a never ending wave of ivory white.
When the prince speaks, it's with hesitation, like he wasn't meant to be there.
Well, Shu wont claim that he is supposed to be there. It was like wrestling with the most annoyingly unmovable mother to get Hasumi to agree to the switch, even for just the first night. But thankfully with Tsukinaga’s incessant whining and a certain Sakuma sticking his nose where it doesn't belong, Hasumi caved to Shu’s very… unexpected request.
Yes, unexpected it truly was. No one could have foreseen what years of watching a clown pine over a rock would do to Shu’s patience and rationality. So now instead of dark hair and blunt eyes, blond hair and bright eyes stand gazing at the princess of tonight.
“Naugh, Oshi-san’s happy~” the man beside Shu giggled and clung tighter to him.
“Well at the moment I'd say I am” Shu leans towards his lover. Candy and the scent of Shu's own shampoo fill Shu's nose.
“Ehe~ ya think they're finally gonna get together?”
Shu hums a response, presses a kiss to Kagehira’s temple, then continues watching the stage.
The manilla folder had thumped Tenshouin into reality when Shu threw it at his face. Waiting for the blonde to slowly scan over each page revealed that yes, he was able to decipher the odd almost hieroglyphic symbols and continuous loops. Shu watched his eyes crinkle in mirth, just joyful enough to send a bucket of cold water down his back as he continued sifting through. He had to reread certain letters.
Waiting on Tenshouin was tedious but afterwards, Shu was able to wrestle a plan into action.
Does he think they'll finally stop walking on eggshells and talk?
Possibly.
Not definitively.
But Shu can hope.
And that's enough because when it's them, all anyone can do is hope.
For now, Shu will wait and watch the fruit of his hard labor sparkle and shine under the spotlights.