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Yushi is so warm.
Sakuya remembers when he used to think Yushi was cold. Unfeeling, impossible to understand, a robot with god knows what hiding behind the immaculate surface.
It's hard to imagine now. He wants to go back in time and smack his own self in the face. He doesn't think Yushi was hurt over his thoughtless comments, but — what if he was? What if it would permanently ruin—
Nah. No. These are very silly thoughts that Sakuya doesn't entertain, except during rare sleepless nights, when he's still pent-up and full of energy, and nowhere to let it out.
It starts like this: Yushi notices. Yushi notices and offers to dance it off, together, even though he must already be exhausted. Yushi dances a lot — in the breaks, while they're waiting, when Riku and Sion are sleeping, and even in the dorms, when he's alone and thinks no one sees him.
Sakuya wonders if Yushi might have the same endless fountain of energy, because sometimes he spends even more time goofing off with Sakuya than Ryo does. But then there's times when Yushi becomes quiet and distant, as if the fountain has run dry. Sakuya likes to sit close during those moments, because sometimes Yushi will take his hand, or loop his arm around Sakuya's. It's a comfort he's willing to offer, because Yushi never asks for more than he can give.
More often than not, it's Yushi who ends up giving, often without Sakuya even asking. It's Yushi who distracts him from stage nerves — it takes an embarrassingly long time to realise that's what he's doing, because Yushi will keep startling him with a weird new dance, or asking if Sakuya's seen the latest tiktok challenge, or just bothering him until Sakuya's attention switches over to him.
But... he's not... a bother.
Sakuya pushes him away, sometimes, on instinct. It's the same he does when any member lets their cuteness aggression take over — soak in their affection, but refuse it occasionally, just to keep them on their toes. Just so nobody sees how needy he actually is.
He wonders, during those rare evenings when him and Yushi are left alone in their room — if Yushi can see it, if Yushi can see... him. The thought is both scary and exhilarating.
What does he see? A small boy wishing to be an idol? A cute doll, like what Ryo calls him? An adorable dongsaeng to take care of? A fellow member yet to grow into himself?
But that's not how it feels at all.
It's funny how equal-footed he feels with Yushi. It makes sense when it's Ryo — they are the closest in age, and Ryo is someone Sakuya can truly trust with pretty much anything. But with everyone else, he's happy to be the cute maknae — he knows it's a role he'll have to let go, eventually. He can relish it for now.
But when Yushi is near, Sakuya doesn't feel small, or too young, or like he has to strive to catch up with the older members; he feels... warm. Every time he makes Yushi laugh, or smile, every time Yushi looks at him with obvious affection — and it is obvious, like all of Yushi's emotions, always so easy to read. Sakuya can't even understand how he could have ever thought differently.
It feels special, to have Yushi choosing to sit next to him, to tell him a joke, to point out something he noticed.
Sakuya would never take it for granted.
That's why the news of the dorm change hit him like a truck.
At first, he yelps with happiness at the idea of rooming with Ryo. Because — isn't that what they've always wanted? Ever since deciding that they had to debut together, making a promise they did see through, he imagined it happening.
It takes a minute to realise what this entails.
No more late-night dancing sessions. No more sneaking snacks into the room only to see a pile already waiting on his bedside table. No more falling asleep to a soft, melodic voice humming a random, probably made-up melody. No more talking stretching deep into the night, no more random sounds turned inside jokes, no more warmth to fall back onto in the cold days. No more Yushi.
He won't just be in a different room — that would be one thing, — but in an entirely different dorm, on another floor.
As the full understanding dawns upon him, Sakuya hears, faintly, everyone celebrating having a room of their own. Of course — who wouldn't be happy to finally be allowed some privacy? They're adults, after all.
The only children, they put together. It makes sense.
It's supposed to make him happy.
Sakuya packs all of his things into a million boxes, and smiles, and pretends.
(He's surprisingly good at it.)
He keeps hoping that maybe it's not gonna be that bad. And it's not — it's good, it's fun, he loves Ryo, he's just...
He's just gotten used to it. Yushi's presence, quiet but radiant. Yushi's way of catching his every thought before he finishes it. Yushi's bluntness, Yushi's smell, Yushi's laugh, Yushi's—
i miss you, he types. Deletes it. Buries his head under a pillow.
It's so stupid. He can literally go to the other dorm, and they see each other all the time anyway, so why should this be different?
But, a voice in Sakuya's head says, now that Yushi's over there — several floors away, practically another country —
Now that he's not there to see Yushi dancing into the night, slurping ramen in his bed, scrolling on his phone until he falls asleep, now he can't see his bleary eyes every morning, his laugh filling the room — it all feels unbearable.
It only feels worse when their schedules start in earnest, and he can see that Yushi's fine.
It hurts.
It hurts more than Sakuya could have imagined. More than something like this deserves, more than he can afford, as an idol.
It's like — it's like Yushi doesn't care — it's like he didn't treasure their time —
"Saku, you okay?" Sion catches his eye just half an hour before they're supposed to go onstage. He looks gentle, caring, friendly, like he always does.
Sakuya nods. He doesn't really trust his voice.
Sion doesn't seem convinced, but he nods anyway, and gathers Sakuya in a half-hug he immediately squirms out of.
Sakuya can't help but feel bitter because of course, Sion noticed — Sion cared — and he's thankful, it's just.
He wishes it was someone else.
The dark, ugly monster inside of him grows more bitter as hours turn into days, and Sakuya finds himself colder, rude at times, even when there's nothing the others have done to deserve it.
“Your mic cord is hanging behind, here, let me—”
“I know,” Sakuya snaps. Riku just looks confused. “Sorry.”
He doesn’t want to be like this, but he doesn’t seem to know what to do with the hurt. It’s not fair, to the people surrounding him, to all the hyungs, to the fans.
He tries to keep himself in check, but the bitterness spreads from his chest and up to his mouth, forcing him to say things he immediately regrets. Sakuya wishes he could reach inside and smother it with his own hands.
How is it possible to feel so much over something so miniscule?
Worse even, Yushi keeps trying to hug him — hang on his arm — drag him into a stupid challenge —
Sakuya doesn't deserve it; doesn't deserve his kindness and unconditional affection.
(Except that Yushi left him, and he doesn't doesn't doesn't care—)
(stop it stop these thoughts now)
After, he apologises to Riku, and to everyone, but Yushi still looks at him with a wondering look.
Sakuya cannot run away.
There is a moment he keeps coming back to. One time, months and months ago, when he returned after a long day out and found Yushi sitting in his bed in the dark, blankets bundled around, shoulders shaking.
He froze in shock, first instinct to leave Yushi alone and not bother him, but something — a small part, the one that still remembers how it feels to sit all alone in the dark, in a foreign country — it carried him over and made him put his hand on Yushi's shoulder.
And Yushi covered his hand with his own, and Sakuya knelt on the bed and hugged him tight, barely able to believe it when Yushi turned slightly and hid his face in Saku's shoulder.
It made him feel... powerful — exceptional — special. Like he wasn't small or useless, like he could protect someone he cared about, too. Even if he didn't get it, even if he didn't know what had Yushi crying like this.
He can't help wondering.
Does someone comfort Yushi when he cries late at night?
Does someone notice?
(There’s a dream that hasn’t happened enough to be called recurring, but that he can’t help recalling sometimes. Maybe that’s why it’s become so familiar. Maybe that's why he's never wrote it down after the first time.
In it, Sakuya is scaling an endless rock, and he doesn’t fall, but he doesn’t reach anything ever. It’s simply an eternal climb. Except it might not even be him — sometimes his vision expands, and he can see a group of climbers scattered on the side of the rock, and on the very top of the mountain, a white, star-shaped flower.)
Yushi takes a seat beside him, in the back. Sakuya tries, valiantly, to ignore him.
It’s all in vain, because after some minutes pass, Yushi puts a cool hand over his.
“Saku,” he calls, forcing Sakuya to take his earphones out. Not like he was listening to anything anyway.
“Yes,” Sakuya manages. Yushi’s fingers are counting his knuckles, or — or whatever. Normal Yushi things.
“Are you okay?”
Is he? He doesn’t want to lie, not like this, not to Yushi — but he’s wholly unprepared to answer this, not just because they’re stuck in a car together, or because the other members are close by, but because… what can he even say? That he can’t be himself without knowing Yushi will be in the same room as him, at the end of the day? That he’s afraid of things changing even more? That he doesn’t understand it himself, but that saying anything out loud will only make things worse?
“I miss you,” he blurts out.
I know you’re right here, he wants to add, or, right there, on the other floor, but I just, I didn’t realise, I didn’t expect…
He can't say all of that.
He doesn't need to.
His thoughts are all, what if Yushi's too full of energy to sleep at night? What if Yushi needs someone to comfort him after a long day? What if he's restless, what if he's sad, what if he forgets about Saku—
He looks up briefly, afraid that somehow, Yushi will read his mind. Hoping he might, anyway.
Yushi looks a little dazed, and Sakuya wants to run immediately, but… there’s nowhere to go.
"It's — okay," he manages, voice going weirdly high. "Don't worry. About me. I'm fine."
It sounds fake to his own ears.
Yushi moves in a little, eyes darting around wildly in the dimly lit company car. Sakuya would feel cornered, if only Yushi didn't look this lost. It pangs, to see him like this.
Maybe they could be lost together, comes a stray, unbidden thought. On a train, in a forest, on a remote island. Somewhere just for the two of them.
The thought is too familiar, by now, to be frightening.
Sakuya puts his own hand on top of Yushi’s and squeezes lightly. This is easy. It’s always been easy. In his stupidity, after avoiding Yushi for days at an end, he's almost forgotten how it feels.
Yushi looks down at their hands, unreadable expression making Sakuya think of months ago, back before he knew anything.
Has he changed that much, since then? Has Yushi?
He knows he should say something else. Fix it, somehow, assuage Yushi’s worries. It’s not… worth it. Sakuya’s feelings are not worth it.
But his throat is all clogged up, and he’s trapped in this car, and Yushi is right there, and he missed him, he—
"Saku... will always be my favourite," Yushi tells him, soft, holding his hands, holding Sakuya's entire heart, and Sakuya doesn't cry often, not like his hyungs, but this time he feels something prickling in the corners of his eyes. God, it's so embarrassing.
"I know," he says, trying to come off cheeky, but it only ends up weak.
He doesn't say all the rest that comes to mind: how long is always? How can you promise that?
(What does it mean, to be your favorite?)
But Yushi is looking at him, this intense gaze that Sakuya can't seem to ever shake off, that stare that always roots him in place for a second.
He wants to trust it. Needs to.
"And..." Yushi chews on his lower lip, his eyes downcast. Seeing him like this is a privilege, a torture and a blessing. Sakuya swallows, squeezes Yushi's hand.
"I miss you too," Yushi says, very, very quietly.
Inside Sakuya, the white flower of hope blooms.