Chapter Text
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“i measure time by the days i’ve spent away from you
that thought occurred to me
as i watched the sky go dark from blue”
Violet Bent Backwards Over the Grass, Lana Del Rey
Mid-July 2023
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Harua’s overthinking.
The grind for their promotional activities, which Harua thought would never end, was beginning to slow down after having non-stop schedules in June.
It’s odd for him to identify his routine as that of an idol’s: The sky is ink when they sleep and ink still when they need to wake up, they eat their respective breakfasts—Jo’s bowl of plain white rice which he makes a point to savor despite the others around him frantically pulling sock drawers open is an integral part of said routine—while getting ready, finally head out with their managers to a shoot or meeting they need to be at, they practice for hours, then the rest of the day’s happenings whirl past and slip from their fingers with how hectic everything is.
All in preparation for the next day, when they need to do it all over again; another facet of the idol lifestyle.
He recognizes it when he looks at his members. It just takes awhile for his brain to catch up and remember he’s actually one too. He’s lucky. So he has to dedicate himself fully.
Which is why Harua needs to get it together.
Today they’ve just finished going over their set-list and blockings for an upcoming fan meeting. While waiting for their manager to bring the car around, Harua continues to work on a part he thinks he needs to improve on.
Looking in the mirror as he repeats the same move, he sees the rest doing their own thing: Kei is stretching on the floor; Taki’s massaging Fuma’s back, who actually looks like he’s about to fall asleep; Nicholas and Euijoo are slumped together sharing a pair of earbuds; Jo’s got his hoodie zipped up, doodling on his phone; and he hears more than sees Yuma casually beatboxing in the back of the room while packing up, a faint rhythm over the music playing from the speakers.
Harua looks back at himself, shaking his head minutely, still unsatisfied. The constant ache in his body from rehearsing has lessened over the months they’ve practiced as a group; muscle memory building up so he can sharpen his moves—thinking of gestures to include, how to captivate with his eyes, the perfect ending-fairy pose—following the drilling of choreography into his bones.
Make the spin a bit tighter, he thinks as he does it again, frustration working its way up to his features. Cleanly, he aims for when he grits his teeth, does the move with too much force and overturns, stumbling in the process.
He drags his hands over his face, put out with himself, releasing a deep sigh. He counts to ten in an effort to regain his composure—it happens, Harua reminds himself. Practice and practice and practice.
When he finally lets his hands down and looks in the mirror, he notices that Maki’s to his left, peering at him over the duffel bag he’s hugging to his chest. Maki sees his eyes on him and smiles, giving a thumbs up. Harua just stares back, trying to make a blank expression on his face.
“You okay? Manager-san’s coming soon, you should wrap it up,” he’s saying.
Harua doesn’t like the feeling that’s taken over him, having been seen making a mistake. He answers curtly “I know,” puts his head down, “I just wanted to get the details right.”
Maki stands up in one big movement and shuffles next to Harua, “You’ve already got it all, though.” His hands are suddenly grabbing Harua’s shoulders, smile growing as he shakes him a little. “Don’t overthink it.”
Don’t overthink it.
All of a sudden Harua feels like the energy in him has fully seeped out of his body. He leans back onto Maki and doesn’t offer up much resistance. Maki’s holding him up, but is obviously surprised by the action. Before he can say anything, Euijoo calls out to them that they need to head to the parking lot. Kei pokes his cheek and Nicholas ruffles Harua’s hair as they pass by to get their things.
Maki guides them to exit the room, bringing their bags as they trail behind the others when he starts rambling:
“I’m beat too. Not sure I have it in me to eat dinner but I heard Kei-kun say we’re having tteokbokki! Then Yuma-kun said ‘It’s too hot to eat spicy food’ and hyung goes ‘It’s because it’s hot that it’s best to eat spicy food!’ I was like, that’s kinda insane? But then it got me thinking, we literally eat ice cream in the winter. So that actually makes sense using the same logic. Though out of all the food is tteokbokki really the way to go ‘cause I was craving for a burg—”
“Maki?”
“—er. Hmm?”
“We need to get in.”
“Oh yeah, sorry,” the apology in English, “you first.”
Harua gets in the back seat, Maki hops in after him with Nicholas and EJ staying in the front.
Buckling up, Maki continues, “Anyway, I was really craving a burger. When was the last time I chowed down on a Big Mac? Forever ago. We should go to McDonald’s next time, Rua.”
“Like that burger Yuma made.”
“Oh my god, yes, the Big Maki all the way!”
“I prefer their Ebi burger. I don’t remember what a Big Mac tastes like, to be honest.”
“We’ll share both!” Maki says confidently. Leaning back in his seat, he rummages through his bag for his water bottle.
Harua looks out the window, his eyes growing heavy.
Tired. He’s so tired. The sky’s a deep blue. Summer days go for longer but it’s already night. He thinks he saw on the weather app that it’ll be a full moon though he can’t tell at all from the dark cloud cover. A few years ago he would spend summer break going with friends to the park or eating ice cream outside a convenience store. It all seems so far away now.
He goes over the routine in his head, still reeling from his mistake. Why’s it difficult for me? They can do the same move perfectly, gracefully, consistently. It’s not like he’s lagging behind them in terms of skill— Harua can give himself credit that he’s only gotten better since his trainee days. He’s worked too hard on being well-rounded to have such little self-esteem. But he sometimes thinks that the go go go part of being in this industry is too fast. Too demanding of him. He loves it and it's rewarding but it’s also a lot.
Today everything had piled up, he supposes. It’s okay, it happens. Don’t overthink it.
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The minute they arrive at the dorms everyone scrambles to finish washing up and changing clothes.
Harua was late to take a shower, right before Nicholas’ last. Usually Nicholas has this whole system for his skincare that takes a while, lighting candles and meditating shortly. Harua thinks that sounds rather nice.
He’s drying his hair as Yuma and Taki peek into his room, side-eyeing the empty plastic bottles lined up on top of Harua’s desk. “Hey, have you seen Fuma-kun’s phone charger?” Yuma. “He said he left it here before leaving today.”
Harua thinks for a second. “Nah. Why would Fuma-kun charge here though?”
“I think he said he caught an Onix in your room.”
“Fuma-kun was playing Pokémon Go… At 5am?”
Yuma shrugs, as if to say it could be worse, and goes.
“You want to play Mario Kart?” Taki.
“I’m good, maybe tomorrow,” he says off-handedly. Without looking up, he adds, “Get ready for that new course. I’m gonna beat you.”
Taki grins, like he just heard the funniest joke to come out of anyone’s mouth ever, “You wish.” Stepping over to point a finger menacingly at Harua, who finally looks up at Taki’s crazed look. “You won’t know what hit you, kid”
“I’m three days older than you, dork”, he laughs, pushing Taki’s hand away and punching his arm in turn.
“That’s unverified information— hey! ‘Kay, okay!” Taki shouts heading out, “Look forward to losing! ‘Night!”
“Mmm, goodnight!” Harua says back. He sets his towel down to comb through his hair.
Nope. He’s overthinking.
His mind just keeps on racing: a jumble of thoughts and words and feelings he doesn’t even understand, but it hits him so suddenly that he doesn’t know how to make it stop. He sits still with his eyes unfocused trying to calm down whatever this is.
He’s semi-aware of the door opening, anticipating Nicholas, when he hears Maki’s voice sweetly call out to him, “Harua~”
Unsuspecting of Harua’s inner turmoil, Maki flops beside him, his energy bouncing off him like a puppy’s. He settles in lying beside Harua without really touching; the fluffy white comforter Fuma bought for Harua in the spring a soft wall between them.
“Nicholas is still in the bathroom? I could’ve sworn I smelled his candles being snuffed out—you know, it’s kinda like that ashy scent right before you burn a piece of toast. Anyway, do you wanna watch the latest episode…” Maki trails off, eyes flitting over to Harua’s unmoving form, realizing his silence isn’t that of someone actively listening. “Hey, Rua?”
He puts the tip of his pinky right next to Harua’s thigh, always speaking in touches, what’s on your mind?
Harua tenses up, his eyes rapidly blinking away at the urge to cry. Stop that. Breathe. He makes no move to turn Maki away, letting him continue to press on in an attempt to convey that he doesn’t want him to go. Maki patiently waits, idly playing with the fabric of Harua’s pajamas now but looking unbearably genuine in his non-pressing pressing.
He steadies himself after a moment. Harua could make a silly little joke, a dismissive comment, an it’s nothing really. Instead he chooses to be truthful. He inhales, and keeping his tone light but firm, gets out “I don’t want to talk about it” in one loaded exhale. The it’s too personal, he doesn’t say aloud.
He thinks if he did then Maki will hear it as a personal rejection — that it’s not just Harua unwilling to share, it’s Harua pointedly not wanting to talk about it with Maki. Not wanting to open up to Maki specifically; not feeling comfortable enough around Maki; wordlessly pulling away from Maki until all there’s left is hesitation and misunderstanding.
Harua’s heart is pounding, his thoughts scrambled until they’re rushing back to over a year ago when they were getting over the barrier of their insecurities at the beginning of their friendship—
(the image of Maki vulnerable, his hurt and relief and hopefulness suddenly running down his pink cheeks, earnestly saying it was something he needs to work on, is etched onto the back of his mind.)
And he knows it was never Maki’s intention to push Harua’s boundaries, just like it was never Harua’s intention to decline Maki’s affection. It fast forwards to now, and it’s a reminder of what he definitely does not want to happen ever again. But he can’t will himself to speak of anything more into the cold air-conditioned dorm room air. So he doesn’t.
He half-expects the polite yet understandably dejected reply of the other’s footsteps heading towards the door; to be left alone to sift through his embarrassment and guilt and frustration.
Surprisingly it doesn’t come, as Maki stays put by his side, his gaze steady on Harua when after a beat he simply says “Okay, that’s no biggie,” punctuated with his usual warmblindingsincere dimpled smile. “I sense a food coma coming to get me. Wake me up if you feel like you’re gonna get squished.” He turns the other way to make room for when Harua lies next to him. “‘Night.”
Maki says it so easily like he doesn’t expect anything from Harua; wants to lay there with him unless he’s told otherwise, which then he would gladly give Harua his space without hesitation. Like Maki understands that it's sometimes too much to begin with saying anything at all; that Harua has days like these, gets like this too. That Harua wouldn’t ask for his easy-going assurance, but will give it regardless. He can talk for both of them, yet he can also carry Harua’s silence.
Like Harua is enough.
oh—
It’s reassuring. He’s grateful for Maki’s presence.
He lays down after a while. Puts the comforter over him and stares at the ceiling. He feels Maki’s breathing steadying slowly. In and out. He mimics it.
The whirring of his head stops.
He finally adjusts his position, folds an arm under a pillow, and faces Maki’s back before closing his eyes. It’s a snug fit with the two of them in his bed, but it’s comfortable.
Don’t overthink it.
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It’s some time before Nicholas comes in the room, a pink sheet mask on his face, dressed in pajamas that are way too expensive to be worn in midsummer humidity. He raises his eyebrows when he sees HaruaandMaki, and raises them even higher when he realizes they’re sound asleep. Shaking his head, he goes to pull their comforter down in case they sweat through the night.
On the way to his bed he trips over a wire plugged into a socket, “Shit— ow! Fuma-hyung stop leaving it here!”
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