Archive of Our Own

There was no greeting. There never was.

Toya placed his shoes onto the shoe rack. There was a single rectangle of a window above the white front door with a floral-pattern on it, through which filtered moonlight streamed in, mixing blotchily with the white lights of the houses across the street. Maybe, if more thought was put into the actual window than its design, he'd be able to see more of the wood-panelled floor, instead of there just being a dark patch of wall halfway along the corridor. He walked along the panels on socks, passing the living room door.

That was another thing about this house: it was so easy to avoid anyone and everyone. Every room was much bigger than it needed to be; every other door opened to a hallway that would lead to a separate set of stairs if someone didn't want to take the main staircase at the end of each room. It was absurd; you would have to actively try in order to interact with anyone.

'What's for dinner?' ; 'Dinner's ready '; 'I'm going to my room, don't disturb me' ; 'I understand you're pursuing other things, but please try to listen to your father a little' ; 'Mother, I don't want to' ; 'I know, but just a little. It would make him happy' ; '...I'll think about it' ; ' There's my darling Toya' . And that was it. That was all the conversation the Aoyagi family had had everyday, for the past...

You know what, he didn't even want to think about it.

He was about to go up the stairs at the end of the hall, barely lit far at the top by a single, dying, orange bulb, mentally preparing himself for the journey he was willingly about to put himself through. If he went up these, he would have to cross the large piano room to get to the next set of stairs, which would then lead to the floor his room was on. Even worse was that those stairs would take him right to the back of the corridor, making him pass through a glass door which was right next to his father's room, which he'd then have to tiptoe past in order to get to his own room at the front. But even with all of those drawbacks, he still had to because one of his brothers had come home today and was watching TV in the living room so, depending on which one it was, he would either be greeted narrowly, or with disdain and ugly commentary. He was not about to take that risk. He had made it a total of five steps up into the darkness when he heard,

"Toya?"

He hated that he still couldn't tell which one of them it was. Again, their house had been painfully quiet since childhood, even that call for him had been spoken at a controlled volume. Because of his father, because God forbid a decibel of misplaced sound hit that man's ears. He stepped back down, grunting slightly. Plus, when each child spends their entire life either at practise or recitals, it doesn't make a difference who's who: eldest, youngest, steadfast, weak-willed, obedient, rebellious; all just different hands playing the same notes. He trudged back down the hallway. He hated that when he thought of his brother's voice, all he could hear was that damned piano piece that had been beaten into their ears since birth. His hand came up to the handle, his fingers used to the intricate carvings on its frame. He hated that this was all they were. He pressed down - click - and pushed forward, taking one measly step into the room.

"Yes?"

Oh, it was Toushiro-san. He sat there, sitting as slouched as an Aoyagi could get on the sofa, remote in hand. The room itself was almost unseeable, with not a single light on at the front or back of it. Other than the glow of the TV, he was certain that the only natural lighting came in through the absurdly tall windows on the other side of the room, but even those had large black curtains drawn over them, barely letting the moonlight breathe.

The TV illuminated his features, or about as much as there was to illuminate: light blue hair, supposedly slicked back, although the gel was clearly almost off now; deep, navy eyes, courtesy of their mother; a tall, lean frame, which Toya resembled; thick, heavy eyebags and a suit too formal to be relaxing in that, had Toya been any younger, he should have asked, 'What are you doing in that suit? Father won't like you using it that way.' Too bad he didn't care anymore. Some channel about sheet music was playing on the screen, but he knew he wasn't watching. They both knew he wasn't watching.

A sludging silence loomed, shifting its eyes between them, growing awkwardly thicker as every moment of tired waiting passed, and not a cough or a breath to bother it.

He looked at his brother, his lips carefully beginning to form words. He saw him hesitate, draw back with a sigh. Then, he tried again.

"...Were you about to sleep?"

"No.”

"Okay," he sighed. And silence again.

He turned off the TV, remote placed back beside him on the sofa. The light flicked out the room, leaving them in solemn, lonely darkness. They breathed in its cold familiarity for a while. Then, he brought up his hand, pinching the bridge of his nose and massaging it. Toya felt like he shouldn't have been there anymore. He was about to take a step back out the door, slowly creaking it shut when,

"Toya."

His head snapped up.

"Yes?" The door came open again.

"...Could you get me water?" He asked, breath hushing at the end. He continued to rub his nose, eyes closing, fatigue prominent on every pore of his skin.

"Okay."

"Thank you."

He walked across the room, past the back of the sofa - that was about as physically close as he and his brother had been in months - and towards the kitchen. It was right on the other side of the room but, with the rooms being as vast as they were, it still took too much time, enough time for him to glance back, seeing his brother pick up the remote again.

He stepped in, feeling around for the light switch - almost knocking against the fridge - and flicking it on. He winced at the sudden barrage of yellow, his socked-feet cold against the kitchen tiles. He knew it wasn't fair to think his brother had it any easier; they had both been through the same, harsh training since childhood. In fact, he thought, grabbing a glass off the rack, he was almost certain his brother had gone through much worse than him. He turned on the tap, the water gushing out. He didn't think his brother was happy with it either. He held the glass underneath the stream. There had always been a sombre melancholy in his voice, like he was constantly yearning for something, reaching for something, a quiet plea that he had gotten so used to making that it was now ingrained into the tone of his voice. He used to wonder how he could play piano that much without getting tired of it, but now he thought he knew. It's not that he had never gotten tired of it, but rather that he was too tired to fight it anymore. So he just sat there, playing until it killed him. 'You learn to find happiness in this life'. He didn't think his brother was happy - he flicked off the tap - no, when he looked into his eyes, he didn't see happiness, but rather acceptance. This is the way things are, so may as well take what you can get.

He walked around the kitchen corner, switching off the light, making his way back to the sofa. He sped up a little as he felt a yawn stretch throughout his body. Some romantic drama was playing on the TV, his brother watching it as intently as he could through sleep-torn eyes and weary glasses. He handed him the glass, watching him mutter a 'thank you' before gulping it down hungrily.

"...Have you eaten?" he tried.

He gave half a shake of his head in response, accompanied by a large gulp.

"Oh," He wasn't really sure what to say, though, he couldn't say he was surprised either. All the Aoyagi brothers had terrible eating habits, ranging from skipping days of meals to weeks of living off coffee and water. Distantly, he thought back to the fridge, how full it was... How full it had always been. "Mother left your plate in the fridge," - he gulped more - "I could get it for you," he tried again.

He pulled the cup away from his lips, releasing a refreshed, 'ah' as he sat it down on the glass table, wiping at his mouth, shaking his head again.

"No. Thank you, Toya, but I'm not hungry." Of course.

Toya turned his head to the TV, watching the bright colours from his periphery shift into live people performing on a screen. He sat there for a couple seconds, watching, before asking another question.

"Is this... A romance drama?" He didn't know his brother that well, but he wanted to try, even if he didn't think this was the kind of thing he'd watch for entertainment. The actors moved about, talking softly, coming to hold each other's hands. He could see why people enjoyed it, but still...

"Yes," he sighed lazily. Then, he smiled. It was subtle and worn and barely there but still a smile. Toya couldn't remember the last time he saw him with one. He then, surprisingly, continued without Toya's prompting. "My fiancée likes this one, so I'm trying to understand it."

"Y-Your fiancée?" His brother was engaged? How could he not have known? Why did no one bother to- were they going to tell him?

"Yes," - he sat up a little straighter - "I proposed before flying back," - the bags under his eyes seemed to have cleared by a shade - "and she said yes." He sat back softly against the sofa, clearly dazed in the memory. Toya turned back to the screen, unsure how to approach his brother like this. The wife was now being led to sit on a bed, her husband kneeling in front of her.

He had never seen him like this before, so... relieved? Happy? Of course he was happy for him but... there was someone who could bring out this side of his brother... wow...

Actually, no. What did he mean by that? He knew perfectly well what it felt like: he had Akito . His perfect partner, his wonderful, beautiful partner. He let his head fall back too, eyes still stuck on the screen as he grinned. Akito ... What was there he couldn't say about him? So talented, so strong-willed. It was because of him he had become so much more confident than he could have ever been on his own. It was also because of him that he had broken his cycle of terrible eating and sleeping, with Akito constantly taking them to an array of cafes after practice, ordering for him in the beginning when he couldn't bring himself to take in anything else... So considerate. It was because of him he could wake up every morning and say he was happy, well and truly happy with his life, his drive, his dreams, all because of...

"You seem to understand." He could feel his brother's gaze on him, perceiving him. He didn't mind though. He was right. The husband whispered into his wife's ear, bringing up a hand to her shoulder, dragging it across, thumb gliding against her collarbone. Toya brought a hand to his own, massaging, grinning a little wider.

"I think I do." He could feel his brother's smile tickling him, even from across the sofa.

"...The singer boy, right?" Toya couldn't help the chuckle that left his mouth, hand quickly coming up to cover it. "Oh?" He giggled more, unsure why he was being so open around him. Maybe because this was the first true interaction they had had in years, maybe because they finally had a common topic of interest. Who knew.

"Yes," he whispered, his giggles quelling, "it's him." The husband traced his hands around her neck, encircling it with them, thumbs pushing down at the centre of her collarbone. He blushed at the admission, melting further into the seat.

"I see," he replied, turning back towards the screen, just as the husband pushed one thumb to run down the centre of her body, the rest of the hand following suit; the other went around her neck and brushed up into her hair. "I wish the best of luck to the both of you."

"Thank you," Toya responded, thinking about how he would tell Akito about this tomorrow, what his reactions would be like, what he would think, what he would say, how wonderful all of it would be. "Congratulations on your engagement," he added. He heard him huff in amusement in response.

The wife was now completely laid against the bed, the husband softly sucking on her neck, one hand entangled in her hair whilst the other rubbed deeply up and and down her side, thumb crossing over every rib. Toya was beginning to see why people enjoyed this.

Then the screen turned black. He turned his head, almost disappointed at the loss as he looked at his brother.

"Alright, that's enough for now." He stood up with a grunt, stretching his arms.

"...Didn't you want to watch it for your fiancée?" The word still felt weird on his tongue. His fiancée. His brother's future wife- his future sister-in-law. It all felt so... foreign.

"I think I understand the general concept of it," he sighed, arms coming down, placing the remote on the table, "that, and the fact I probably shouldn't be watching such things around you." He grinned, tired and worn and practically nonexistent, but still somehow there.

"I can understand them, you don't have to worry." There was a slight lilt of amusement in the way he spoke, yet still a little accusatory.

"Oh? Were you enjoying the programme, Toya?" Toya reddened slightly at the implication, but still held himself together; it was all in good humour. He stood up from the sofa, facing away from the screen. He heard a soft chuckle, but it didn't bother him. His brother began making his way to the back of the room, towards the main stairs. Toya followed behind him.

The staircase was long. While shorter than the other route, this one spiralled all the way from the bottom to the top floor, with giant landings on each floor to get off at any point. He was pretty sure any fitness he could say he had came from spending his life walking up and down this behemoth of a staircase. What made it worse was that, usually, he'd be walking up it all alone. It would always feel too big, even as he got older, he never felt like he was ever enough to fill the space on his own, making each trek up and down feel lonelier than the last.

But that wasn't the case right now. His brother was next to him, walking up with him. He wasn't a very large person, if anything, he and Toya shared almost the same degree of skinniness, with his brother having some more weight to his skin. But here, right now, it felt as if they were taking up the entire space, the staircase feeling smaller with every landing they passed. There was a strange proximity between them, but in a way that felt comfortable, homely, safe. Him and his brother, doing this together. He internally scoffed at himself for that thought, but he had meant it. He couldn't recall the last time he felt this particular type of closeness: it rested in his spine and curled at the ends of his ribs, closing in as if to say, your heart is secure now, we've done our jobs. He knew this was probably a one time thing and doubted that they'd have an interaction like this again for a long time, if at all. But if there was one thing Akito had taught him, his beautiful, wonderful partner, was that he should never stop dreaming and to always fight to pursue it. So, if not for himself, then for him, for Akito. But for now, their time together had reached its close as they stepped onto the top floor. Or, well, at least for tonight, he hoped, knowing it was foolish to think so.

"...Are you leaving early tomorrow?" he asked as they entered the corridor, though he was already prepared for the answer.

"No. In fact, I'm here for a while." Oh, oh really? Oh- that was...

"Oh."

"...Disappointed?"

"No! No- I just, um." They stopped, just outside the door to Toya's room. He breathed, "I'm grateful," he smiled.

"Hm," he hummed, "As am I. Now, you should sleep, or else I'll probably get in trouble for keeping you up so late." They smiled, both knowing that was a lie. They'd both get in trouble for wasting each other's time. But right now, as close as they had ever been, they smiled, wishing each other goodnight and going to bed with a new warmth.

* * *

"Break time!" An hopped down from the seat, grabbing her water bottle from Ken-san.

They had been practising for a good two hours or so, the sky beginning to turn a soft yellow. Akito stood up from next to him, Kohane handing him a damp towel from her seat.

"Should this next practise be our last then?" he asked, wiping it over his cheeks.

"I think so. I still need to practise the last verse though..." Kohane replied with a light sigh, putting down her water.

"What? But you're already so good at it Kohane," An rushed over to her, squashing her cheeks - "If you get any better I won't be able to catch up~" she whined, in that playful manner she always had with her partner.

"A-An-chan!" The girls broke into giggles, chatting away at the further end of the counter. Akito turned his head, now looking in Toya's direction again.

Toya couldn't help but watch his partner swipe the towel over his forehead, underneath his bangs, the hair swishing prettily over his face. The other hand came up, knuckles rubbing at the skin. Oh- Oh... um...

"Something wrong, Toya?" Toya broke his eyes away from his hands to see his partner looking at him, speaking with that soft undertone he only ever kept for him. He sat there, staring at him, observing him, thinking, before registering what he had asked. He slowly shook his head, still lost in the sight.

Akito huffed, averting his eyes, a pale pink dusting his cheeks. Toya wanted his gaze to stay on him for longer. He sat back down next to him, bringing the towel off his face and placing it on the counter. Toya's eyes followed suit.

Akito turned his head, looking at him. "Have you drank today?" Toya thought about it, eyes never leaving Akito's cheek. So sweet, so soft... He leaned forward, planting a kiss there. He could feel the skin burn up against his lips. He smiled, pulling back, only to see a slightly more flustered Akito looking back at him. "You- uh," - he huffed out his nose, followed by a chuckle, bringing his knuckles up to where he was kissed - "You aren't gonna distract me with that, y'know..." Toya continued smiling, only giving in when he saw Akito's hand move, bringing up a hooked finger and rubbing it gently against the side of Toya's face. He warmed up at the action.

"There's barely any sweat..." Before Toya could refute, suddenly remembering the one glass of water he had that morning, his partner gripped his bicep and stood up, bringing Toya to his feet as well. He grabbed their bottles with the other. "You haven't been drinking, Toya," he continued, walking them over to the shop's front door. "That's not good. You're gonna lose stamina faster like that." He let go of Toya's arm, using the hand instead to open the door, letting Toya through first.

"Sorry..." Akito scoffed lightly at that.

"Really, Toya. You need to keep watch of this stuff more," he said as they turned the corner onto the main street.

"I'll try to drink more often." Akito tsked at that, moving forward. Then he went to speak again, his tone having softened.

"Do you want me to get you one of those bottles that measures how much water you drink?" He asked sincerely. Toya's heart warmed at the gesture.

"No, that wouldn't be necessary."

"Alright... But seriously...." Toya nodded in response.

"Alright."

They walked down the side of the street, carefully avoiding stray cats and equipment no one had bothered to take home, bottles clinking against each other from Akito's fingers. Toya tried to keep his eyes on Akito's back. So that he would be able to follow him? No... he wasn't quite sure why he was doing that honestly. Maybe because it was right in front of him… Hm, perhaps.

Slowly, the road became wider, allowing them to walk side by side. Their hands continuously teased at each other; he felt Akito's little finger lift, almost linking both of theirs together before letting it drop. He wished he had gone through. Or maybe he had just been hallucinating it. This was the consequence of not having kept hydrated.

Every now and then, one of the cats would brush against him, fur softly prickling against the small area of his leg that his trousers didn't cover, tickling him. They'd do the same to Akito, although he was much more agile in dodging them than he was. His wonderful partner, so handsome, so strong. You know, there was a time when he thought it was taboo to have such thoughts, but with every kiss and hold and touch, it became more comfortable; he began to let the ideas drift across the ocean of his mind, depolluting it, giving his thoughts fresh, clean air to breath as he lay on top of the mind water, the waves gently rippling against his neck and under his arms and legs, drifting him away in rare peace.

It was strange, he thought as his ear bristled past the loose corner of a poster. He brought up a hand to itch it. It was strange, how he used to never be so needy for such things: water, food, hydration. His body was fine without these for long periods. It hadn't been until Akito came into his life that he seemed to notice these things at all. All of a sudden, his body would starve for food every couple of hours, demanding a full meal from him. And now, he found he was beginning to feel thirsty more frequently as well. And it was also very recently that he was beginning to understand that that was a good thing, that his body should be demanding more replenishment more often.

He chuckled lowly to himself. These were essentially alien concepts in his family. Eating three meals a day was already considered 'too much'. Not that he was ever discouraged for eating, but he knew his family thought it strange since nobody else ate that much. He supposed this whole thing started with his brothers. He'd only ever eat when they ate and, since they barely ate all, he ended up adapting to that diet too. After all, if they were doing it, it was probably something his father wanted anyway.

Akito turned his head to face him, green eyes glistening with the golden highlights of sunset, looking amused.

"Hm? What's got you so happy?" Toya perked up, turning to meet his gaze.

"Ah," he smiled, "My brother came home yesterday."

"Oh, your eldest?"

"Yes..." he trailed off, "He's going to stay back home for a while." He knew Akito didn't miss the subtle relief in his voice.

"Well, that's good. How long?"

"I'm not sure. But I think it'll be for a while."

They suddenly stepped back, two kids almost running into them, Akito's sharp movement causing Toya to stumble a little. Their shoulders pressed together lightly as they did so, waiting for them to be a safe distance away. Akito then stood upright again, releasing the pressure off of Toya's shoulder. He huffed, then they kept going.

"You think he'll be back for long?" Toya nodded. "How come?" He sucked in a breath.

"He's engaged."

"...Oh." That was all his partner said, clearly not sure how to continue the topic. "S-so will your whole family be there?" His voice trailed off at the end, careful as to whether it was something he should have asked. Toya thought about it. All five Aoyagis under the same roof again, trying to celebrate a marriage. He winced at the thought.

"Maybe..."

"Yeah..." Akito sighed.

They slowly began to slow down, stopping in front of the water fountain. Akito turned to him, handing him his own bottle, filling Toya's up first. Toya stood there, listening to the rushing stream of water, letting it wash out his brain, soothing his mind, until,

"You really should drink more," he grumbled, water sloshing into the plastic. Toya nodded again, much smaller this time.

"Take better care of yourself..." he breathed. The bottle was almost full, the barrage of bubbles at the top getting more excited. "I need you to..." Toya listened, drinking it all in. Then, more quietly, "...You're the only partner I got."

The gushing stopped. Akito lifted his finger off the button, handing the bottle to Toya and taking back his own. Then they both raised their bottles to their mouths, drinking.

"You're the only partner I got." It reverberated inside Toya's mind, gentle, homely. 'We've only got each other', so we have to take care of each other . The thought painted his mind as he hungrily gulped down the liquid. 'We only have each other', so let's make it count . He swallowed down the rest, bringing the bottle away from his mouth just as he ran out of breath, releasing a refreshed 'ah'.

He looked forward, seeing his partner look at him with a knowing expression. 'See? I told you.' He huffed, averting his eyes in jest. Akito scoffed playfully, moving forward. Just as Toya turned to look back, he felt a gentle kiss press to the skin of his forehead, holding for a few, lovely seconds. Then he pulled away, eyes still gently resting on him

"C'mon... Let's go back. We need to continue practise." Toya nodded, turning around to join his partner as they walked back down, arms brushing as they did.

~~~

Toya got to his bedroom door, putting his fingers in the border between the door and the frame whilst slowly clicking the handle open. His father was only a couple rooms down, so he had to be as quiet as humanly possible.

"Toya," came a hushed whisper.

He almost jumped, biting back his breath as he turned around.

"Toya, there's a spider on your arm." He looked down at his elbow. Surely, as his brother had said, there was a small spider crawling up on his shirt sleeve. Ah... he suppressed a shudder... he didn't really want that there.

He stood there, staring at it, worried moving other hand might cause his torso to move too much and thus jostle his shirt, which would cause him to lose it. However, just as he considered it being worth the risk, his brother's hand came up and wiped it off his arm, just underneath his shoulder.

He looked up, mouthing a small 'thank you' to him. He smiled back, mouthing 'good night' before turning to go back to his room.

Toya turned back, resuming his attempt to open the door and eventually succeeding. He slipped inside, a cold rush of air suddenly freezing him. Right, his balcony door was still open. He moved across his room, shivering as he made his way to close it. When he made it to the door, the cold, night wind was hitting him in its full force, piercing through his socks to his toes, rolling over his shoulders, seeping into his thighs, brushing over his arm.

Yeah, his arm. He looked down at it, feeling slightly strange there. The wind kept going, stronger, faster, bristling past his... ear, making it itchy... and scratching against his forehead... and... and...

...

He shut the door.

The cold rush stopped. The feeling did not. He shakily brought one hand up to his arm, tapping it with a single finger. He immediately recoiled at the action. What was... What was this?

His nerves suddenly felt like they were buzzing. But strangely, they seemed to be concentrated in certain areas. The helix of his ear; the skin of his forehead; underneath the top of his sleeve, as though they were all unsatiated, starving for something.

It was so uncomfortable, it didn't feel right. He brought his hands up to his arms trying to rub the cold out, keeping the hand above the sensitive one at a hover; or, he tried to. Inevitably, one of his fingers ended up touching the cloth, sending a shiver through him. Then another came down, then another, rhythmically tapping against the cotton. Each touch felt like a tap on the screen on a mobile game, causing that small, ripple-esque animation to take place. That's what this felt like, but through deep, thick, dense water. And it was in his skin.

He kept going, tapping it faster, only making the feeling triple over every time one of his finger pads made contact. Still, he kept going, even faster, determined to find what it was. It couldn't be any physical injury, the feeling was inside his skin. So, burst capillaries perhaps? But no, it wasn't fully inside either. Like it was a part of his skin, but clearly unwelcome by it as well. He wasn't at ease with it, his body wasn't happy with it as it was stopping it from achieving its normally scheduled homeostasis, his brain was agonising, almost coming up with a solution but never quite getting there. And his body couldn't even do anything about it, not his skin nor his blood nor his brain, having nothing in its complex arsenal to stop a feeling. A feeling , how absurd. His brain clawed at him, begging him to make it stop and he wasn't sure what it wanted him to do. If his own brain didn't have a mechanism for this, he was screwed. The tapping became too frantic, all four fingers now trying to drill into his shirt. In a moment of frustration, he snatched it away from his arm, bringing it to his forearm and sliding it up against friction, bunching up his shirt as he made it to his bicep, tightly gripping the skin to make his body forget the buzzing and focus on the pain of his hand squeezing it instead.

And it worked. For about two seconds.

Then it came back, worse. All of a sudden, he was hyper aware of every inch of his body that was highlighted by the feeling. His focus skittered between all of them, shutting his eyes to try and get it to go away: the area over his ear to a dot on his forehead to the expanse of his shoulder and back to his arm again then back to his ear again then his arm again then his shoulder again then his ear then his forehead then his arm then his-

He stepped back, breathing heavily. And it kept getting worse, like his own touch was driving him crazy, like he wasn't enough on his own. Almost like he needed- he needed...

Like he needed someone else. To do it for him.

To do it to him.

He needed Akit-

He fell back, body slamming against his bed as turned over onto his side, curling in on himself, careful to make sure his hands didn't touch the rest of his body. What was he doing? What was he doing? What was this? Why was he suddenly craving so much- so much touch ?

He breathed against the bed sheet. Deep in, and deep out, and yet never calming him down in the slightest. He could feel each shift about the mattress as his body moved with his breaths, knowing it was ruining the sheet. His shoulder dug against the mattress, doing an almost insignificant amount to ease the tension there but he didn’t dare to bring his own hand there to protect it. Instead, his hand was lying atop the sheet, clawing open and closed at the fabric with every breath in and out, holding on for... who knew what this was?

It didn't make sense. Where did this come from? He was fine a couple hours ago. Did he have some disease? Some stray cats had touched him while they were walking down. Did he catch something from them? Was that even possible? He knew diseases could be transferred via direct contact but he doubted it'd work between species like that. Perhaps there was some infection going around. It was winter after all, sickness was everywhere. But what sickness was this? Was it chronic? Was... Was his life in danger? The only illnesses he could think of with these symptoms were life threatening so maybe- No, no. He couldn't jump to conclusions. Besides, he didn't feel sick at all so...

He thought back to when these senses had gone off the way they were now. His ear... the poster? There was no way that was it. Maybe it was just the other senses that had gone off so his ear had been alerted as a result. His shoulder; no one had touched it. He thought harder. Well, actually, he had touched it when he was watching the programme. He shifted his face further into the sheet, hiding his shame, making sure to keep his hands awkwardly spaced away from his skin. What had he been thinking? He gulped. No, it couldn't be that either. His own touch didn't work, so it wouldn't have worked then. At least, logistically. Could he even apply logistics to this? It was a feeling. It's not like his feelings had ever abided to his will before. Then on his forehead- Akito's kiss. He could remember that much clearly. The spot where it buzzed, Akito had kissed him there... And his arm? There could have been so many reasons for that. It's where Akito had grabbed him earlier that day; his brother had wiped the spider off his shirt there; the wind had hit him there...

So, he just needed someone to hold him in these places… Anyone who wasn't him. Since there seemed to be no correlation between any of these.

But no. His brain wasn't happy with that either, that wasn't it.

Then what do we want? He argued with himself. The need for someone else to... that part seemed right.

So why not take anyone?

No, no. We don't just need anyone.

Then who?

It has to be someone?

That's what we're saying-

Who could...

Someone who can make it go away...

Someone to make us feel lighter.

Someone who completes us.

. . .

He needed Aki-

He pushed himself upwards with one foot, the sock now fitted wrongly around his foot and the bed sheet even more ruined. He winced as he felt his head against the bare mattress, bringing it up and flopping it against the bottom of the pillow, some stray strands of hair tickling his nose. What was he doing... He took another deep sigh.

He lay there, face flat against the pillow. He breathed in, then out. In, then out. In... he closed his eyes... and out. He kept breathing, in and out, for a while. With his eyes closed, it didn't feel as bad. The tension, the craving. Just as he thought about it, it began buzzing again. Curse him. He breathed again, trying to bring it down again. He shut his eyes tighter as he did so, letting them relax, adjusting.

Closing his eyes did make it better. It could be because with one sense shut off, the others were silenced as well. That was the answer he chose to believe.

Because it definitely wasn't due to him being able to focus on his thoughts more, now that his vision couldn't intervene. His hand inched closer to his chest. And it definitely wasn't because it was so much easier to imagine these cravings being entertained, the greedy things that they were. His finger came loose under his chin. No, it couldn't be because he could imagine it, so shamelessly, so vividly. He couldn't be imagining, he couldn't even imagine... he couldn't imagine...

He couldn’t imagine... He couldn’t imagine warm, olive eyes looking at him, softening his skin under their gaze. He couldn’t imagine a firm voice, drifting through his skull, massaging it with its harmonies. He couldn’t imagine sweet, gentle lips, sifting sound through the pillow, into his ear. He couldn’t imagine legs tangled with his, warming up his body.

He imagined two hands coming up, rubbing gently up and down his arms. He imagined those tender lips, moving forward, pressing gently against his forehead. He imagined the hands moving up as they did so, massaging at his shoulders, dissipating the tension. He imagined sweet songs being sung directly into his head, as the hands slid across his shoulders, pressing down. He imagined the thumbs gliding across his collarbone as they did so, until they reached the middle. He imagined both hands massaging at the base of his neck. One hand then slid up, combing softly into his hair and the other only pressed its thumb down, sliding down his body, the fingers trailing behind it on his skin, splitting his torso in half, all the way up to his stomach. He felt it twist under the pressure. He breathed.

He breathed. He opened his eyes. His hand was absently massaging at his shoulder, his thumb pressed against the skin. The other was tracing slow, deliberate circles around his belly button, the shirt having ridden up, no doubt from the way he had pushed himself up on the bed. He tried to remove them but they felt glued there, like his skin didn't want to let go, like it was finally somewhat satiated. Well, if his body wasn't complaining as much, then maybe it was a good thing. Maybe he shouldn't move them. He relaxed, melting into the bed, his body finally achieving some kind of stalemate with the feeling.

The buzzing flared.

He quickly, though begrudgingly, brought them away from his skin, bringing them up in front of his face again. What was he going to do... Oh...

He turned over, switching sides, his belly still exposed to the crumpled bed sheet underneath it. But he made no move to shield it, he didn't have that energy left in him. He exhaled, shakily. How was he going to sleep like this?

What was he going to do?

* * *

It wasn't enough. It was nowhere near enough.

And he felt so, so damn terrible for it.

"Are... you in a rush? Is something wrong?" His brother asked, watching him putting on his shoes in front of the front door with concern.

"Ah, no. I'm, ah-" he tripped a little whilst trying to force it onto his foot.

"...Are you sure?" A frantic nod, then silence as he struggled with the laces. "Would... you like me to drive you?"

"You don't have to."

"No, it's alright." Toya looked up at him, doing the last lace, a barely noticeable glint of hope in his eyes. Or maybe it was desperation.

"Are... Are you sure?" He stood up, hand immediately moving from his laces to the door handle.

"You're going to Vivid street, right?" he smiled, seeming a little relieved. Toya nodded hesitantly. "That should be fine." Toya thanked him, opening the door and making his way towards his brother's car. The street really wasn't that far and, between wasting his brother's time and actually getting there, walking was the better of the two options but, well... he was already at the car door, so...

He sat inside and immediately clicked in the seatbelt as he waited - far more impatiently than he should have - for his brother to come sit in as well. Upon seeing his distress, he sped up a little, quickly coming inside and starting the car. He wanted his brother to be happy after all. He turned the key, kicking the engine to life, and they drove off.

And now he was here, eyes glued on Akito's hold on the mic, wishing it was his arm instead. He resisted the urge to bring a hand to the aforementioned arm as a result.

They finished the song, coming to rest. Toya sat down at the counter, his face burning way more than he could pass off as normal. He felt a bubble rise at the base of his throat as Meiko placed his coffee on the counter. He couldn't stand the look of the thick liquid. He didn't want to drink it.

"Toya," - he struggled to look up at her - "Is everything okay?" His eyes darted up towards her but it was too much and he went back to focus on the coffee instead. The foam was arranged in the shape of a heart on the top. She had probably noticed he was off during practise, and she had gone out of her way to make it extra well done for him. Now he felt even worse, but he just couldn't stomach the feeling. Shit. He realised, if she had noticed, then Akito had definitely-

"Toya?" Len's voice came from next to him, much louder than Meiko's. He was just a naturally loud kid. "Are you okay? Toya~" He extended his name, waving a hand rapidly in front of him. All it achieved was making him focus on the mushy blackness a little less. He swallowed.

"I-I'm." Fuck. He had stuttered. Not even a half-lie would work now. He swallowed again. Len sat back down, now showing some form of worry. "I'm just sick." No one bought it. He knew no one bought it, but unfortunately he couldn't focus on that right now.

Even Len , he berated himself, Even Len. How stupid are you? At least with Meiko he could hope it was just an outsider being able to spot a flaw thing, but Len... He gripped at his trousers. And with this . How could he have displayed this so openly? It was shameful, he was so embarrassed. And Akito? Who knew him even better? He'd catch on so quickly and-

"Toya."

Fuck.

He turned around, facing him. The bubble in his throat made some room to respond. At least it had that much sense.

"Yes?"

Akito slowed down as he came next to him, genuine concern and anger mixed on his face. Toya felt like it was scrutinising him, his judgment day.

"Toya, what was-" he sat down - "what was that?" Toya held his breath.

"What... was what, Akito?" Akito looked appalled. He knew he was lying.

"You were so distracted, your voice went so quiet," he accused. Toya went silent at that. Akito looked at him, his expression shifting into a type of extreme worry - or betrayal - that Toya didn't like. His voice softened severely.

"Did... Did something happen?"

Yes. We need you-

"No-"

"Toya." He looked up. His partner looked at him as though were a mound of sand, slipping through his fingers. Oh, this wasn't right. None of this was. He shouldn't even be...

"I-"

"Toya's sick!"

They both turned their heads to look at Len, who was standing up over his seat and leaning close over towards them. He had that determined look on his face, but the blush that rose over his features indicated otherwise. He began to stutter, trying to talk over what he said and take it back. Miku, whom Toya had just spotted now, stood in the corner, placing one hand over her face in embarrassment, which she had managed to conceal much better.

"Sick?" His partner turned back towards him, taking his hands. "Toya, are you sick?"

But all he could focus on was Akito's hands on his and how close it was. If he just shifted his arm down a little more, he could have Akito holding his arm and make it go away. A part of him knew it wouldn't work like that. His brain wouldn't be satiated with it, but it would at least satisfy his body, even if for a brief moment. He'd get Akito's touch and it wasn't even so far away. But the part of his brain that begged him to do it was also the part that was filling him with embarrassment at the thought of such an idea. Here, in front of all of them? Go ahead then, if you want. Show them why the unfaltering Toya Aoyagi was so desperate all session. Show them all what you were so needy for, Toya. Go on. Why couldn't he just shut up?

"Akito, I'm-" As if to add to this stupid trick, his words fumbled over each other, resulting in him letting out a cough at that very moment.

Stupid. This was so stupid. He knew what would happen next, he knew Akito would immediately stand up and insist that they go home right this instant and rest and 'God, Toya, you need to tell me when this happens. We can't be straining your voice like this- fuck' and he would feel terrible for not having noticed sooner even though it wasn't even his fault and Toya wasn't even sick but-

"Toya, are you sure you're sick?" He looked at him. Thank God. He hadn't immediately assumed. That was what he appreciated so much about his partner, how well he knew him, how much faith he put in him. At times, he felt like he didn't deserve it but, right now, he just needed to get away from this.

"I... I don't think I am." At least not the kind that could be cured with medicine and a good night's sleep. In fact, he was pretty sure that would only make it worse. Alright, perhaps not the best response but at least it would get the job done, he thought.

Akito hummed, inquiring. Then, against all reason, he placed his hand on Toya's forehead.

Toya almost moved back, if it wasn't for the fact that this was his partner . He mentally gritted his teeth at the part of him that made the move. It was covering almost his entire forehead, the hand so warm against him he could melt into it. Now he was almost leaning further into it, the part of himself he had just berated now getting its payback. He almost couldn't help himself. And it was so, so wrong. His nerves sizzled under the touch, the few areas that weren't covered keeling for attention too as his hand shifted. They bathed in the feeling, soaking in all of it, sucking in the warmth. It felt so good, and it was so shameful and it was so wrong and it was so weird and he tried so hard not to give in but he was failing so badly and he felt so disgusting for it. He tried to keep his shoulders from sagging as much as he could, trying to focus on everything but his partner's face. It didn't help that his other hand was just between where his shoulder met his arm, keeping him stable, not on just one of them but not quite on either. It was so close, if he could just...

He looked over Akito's shoulder, back at the vocaloids. Meiko was tending to the vase of flowers, clearly trying to distract herself. Len had his face plastered into the counter, kicking his legs and he pulled at his hair. Miku was downing a cup of coffee, her hand coming to her face immediately after to cover it. Were they really that embarrassed just watching him? Was that how pathetic he was?

No, he realised, he pathetically realised. They weren't embarrassed because they were looking at him. They were embarrassed because he was.

'This sekai is made from your feelings. They affect every element of this place.'

'Even you guys?'

'An-chan! We shouldn't ask stuff like that...'

'No, it's fine. We were summoned here by your feelings, so I guess we would probably display them as well.'

'So, we're like vessels?'

'Yeah, I guess we are, Len.'

'What?!'

This was him. They were all embarrassed because of... Was this really how strong this feeling was? This... desire?

Wait. 'They affect every element of this place.' Did that mean this feeling would... also somehow manifest itself here? Oh. Oh no. Oh no, he couldn't-

Akito took his hand off, placing it back on the counter.

"You don't seem like you are..." He felt like he was. "Partner, what's wrong?" Toya couldn't look at him, not like this. Akito's other hand came off. No, definitely not. He needed- he needed to...

He grabbed his coffee, holding it up between them, making Akito lean slightly further back. He wasn't sure why he did that.

"It's getting cold," he stated simply. Like it explained anything. Before Akito could retaliate, he lifted the mug to his lips, taking a large sip. It felt so wrong: the thick texture and bitter taste sludged down his throat, swirling uncomfortably about his gut, twisting it even more. Now he felt sick, actually sick. He shouldn't have done that. The caffeine only boosted his nerves' cravings; they buzzed even faster, crawling all across his skin. He couldn't do this. Not here- not around Akito. He put the mug down - louder than he intended - and reached for the phone in his pocket. Akito grabbed his wrist. So close , he was so unbelievably close. If he could just ...

"Toya, please-" Toya swallowed, finally looking up at him. His partner brought up his other hand, both thumbs now massaging at his wrist.

Ough. That's going to come back to us later...

Akito looked at him, almost pleading. "Please, don't run from me."

And Toya felt like the scum of the Earth. He couldn't bear to have his partner like this, but he also couldn't stand what he was doing to him. What was he going to do?

What if we just... tell him?

Exceptional idea! You mind telling us how you think that would go?

Well-

"Akito I want you to touch me-!"

He immediately pulled away from Akito, his other hand reaching for his phone again as his face burned. He heard fisted hands bang at the counter and a scream into the wood.

"I'm sorry, I-"

Akito freed one of his hands to grab at Toya's other one. He was panicking too, his moves becoming frantic to the point he almost didn't make it in time.

"Toya- don't..."

"No, Akito," his partner looked dejected, "I'm sorry I'm like this."

"Like what?" He asked so absurdly gently, like he was afraid one misplaced sound would make Toya slip from his grasp. He felt so guilty.

"Like..." What could he say? Akito I want you to- No! No... He couldn't just do that. So many things he would say and yet so few words his throat would allow him to. It twisted tighter every second, giving him fewer and fewer breaths to explain with the longer he waited.

"Yeah?" he breathed, moving closer, their faces two breaths apart the way they were when Akito wanted to say 'hey, forget everything else, yeah? It's just you and me right now. Come on...' Their foreheads almost touched and their lips were so close and Toya was growing increasingly impatient, selfishly, even, shifting in his seat awkwardly. It was so uncomfortable. They had done this a thousand times and yet only now was it killing him inside. Something he wanted so much yet refused to take. He couldn't.

"I..." Akito bumped their heads together gently, his hand interlacing with Toya's, keeping a firm hold on them, but not rigid. But Toya couldn't.

He croaked out, "I'm sick." Akito pulled back slightly, his face falling as his hold loosened. He opened his mouth but Toya - very, so extremely selfishly - seized the opportunity and brought his hand to his pocket, holding down the bottom of the volume button on his phone until the song completely faded from the speakers. Akito's terrified face dissolved into meaningless shapes and white as he closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, he was back in Weekend Garage. He moved quickly, not allowing Akito to catch up as he made his way around to the front.

"Toya? Is something wrong?" Ken-san walked out from the back, holding two empty cups. Toya chanced one look back at him, trying to answer out of respect before he saw a figure begin to fizz into existence at the back of the cafe. "If you just stay for a minute longer I can quickly brew you a coffee." He moved again, even faster to the front door, turning back and quickly spewing out,

"I'm sorry, Ken-san. I can't right now." He opened the door, letting them fall shut behind him. He didn't know what he was doing. He didn't know why he was like this. It was a feeling; a feeling . He had never been so impulsive before, especially not to the point he'd do this to Akito of all people.

But he clearly didn't know anything anymore as his wrists flared, begging, calling for him to turn back around, to be held by the loving hands of his partner again as the rest of of body screamed in jealousy, as he turned the corner, ignoring the calls, and ran all the way home.

~~~

He quickly toed off his shoes, the door shifting shut behind him. Moonlight still streamed in from the window at the top, chilling him under it. But he had no time for that. He didn't have time for anything, it seemed, getting too greedy and wanting and impatient to savour anything at all. He moved forward, begrudgingly aware of how his feet made a single unit more noise than usual as he walked over to the living room door, clicking it open and stepping inside. He had hoped it would just be him in there, so he could lie down as soon as possible and marinate in his mistakes. But he was wrong.

His brother sat there, playing that romance drama he was watching for his fiancée's sake. Too engrossed to even notice him. He groaned internally, almost letting it escape in a last ditch attempt at gaining his attention, but he was better than that. At least... for now.

He walked over, keeping his footsteps silent again. If he couldn't sit down and relax, he may as well have one glass of water to get him back to his senses, he decided. Yes, a glass of water. A very useful and normal thing to want in this situation. A situation we shouldn't even be in . But no time for that.

He kept going forward, the room seeming to stretch longer with every step he took, keeping his solution far, far away from him. His legs began to weaken. His muscles felt like gears that were grinding against each other to try and keep turning. His entire being felt heavy. From having ran home? The guilt of having run away from his partner? The mental gymnastics of his body treating everything as if it was a needle, yet craving it to wrap around him like soft, tender thread? The insatiable being of his skin? The lack of sleep he managed to achieve the previous night? The hours he spent awake, dreaming of Akito's touch ? A plethora of reasons, really. Probably more, but...

He suppressed a yawn, coming behind the sofa. He let himself stand there for a moment, recollecting his body before his limbs dropped off like sandbags. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt the need to to straighten up because God forbid his father see him like this. His father was probably up working in his room again, but the few times he had caught Toya up so late and acting so recklessly were enough to instill the fear in him forever. Even when he had gone to Akito's house, whenever he had left him alone in the living room to go bring something or move the plates, there, in the back of his mind, was the harsh whisper that any moment his father would walk in and see him like this and yell at him, all for his partner to see. Yes, he knew it was unlikely and it would never happen. But some things just come to haunt you specifically when you're alone. And his father was one of them.

He felt his head try to loll down onto his shoulder, but he couldn't allow it. He couldn't fall asleep here. He was only here for a glass of water after all. He knew he should've ignored the impulse to enter the room and just gone upstairs instead. It wasn't even that he made the decision impulsively, he had been considering his options and still chose to come here. It was his fault, as was everything else. He just couldn't stand the idea of walking up that far, especially across the piano room. He felt like the second he got too close to the thing his father would slam open the door and demand he play, telling him he had no excuses now. Yes , he knew it was unlikely but- God damn it.

He wished his brother was here. His second brother. He wished he was eight again, gullible and easily persuaded. He wished they were sharing a room again due to him being too young to sleep on his own. He wished he would come wake him up in the middle of the night, telling him he found a new place downtown and to come with him, convincing him it was alright even though mother and father didn't know. Why had he been so scared then? He couldn't even enjoy those nights due to the fear he'd be caught. But his brother had been with him, and he always took all the blame anyway. Being told what to do and where to go, not having to think. Ah, not having to think . A luxury he really should have savoured whilst he had the chance. He had been so cautious as a child. That was what had been holding him back. But alas, it was too late now, and...

He sighed. Really? After all this time, he was still stuck on this? How could he say he had changed when he was still pulling childish stunts like this and coming up with all of these fake, improbable, greatly exaggerated scenarios? His father showing up randomly? Running away from his partner? It was all so childish. Internally, he knew he was overcomplicating things in his head and that none of this was true. Of course it wasn't. It was past ten, it was just the fatigue catching up to him. Still, he wished knowing that fact was enough to make it stop.

His eyes winced, agitated that they weren't able to shut due to the intense brightness of the screen. He made them look at it regardless.

It was the same episode. He could tell because it was the same location as last time, with the same background music and clothes and acting. He watched as the wife was sat down on the bed, her husband kneeling in front of her. His eyes dropped the facade of tiredness. His pupil focused. His hand went limp. The other shot awake.

The husband brought his hands up, softly massaging at her shoulders; the expensive fabric moved with his thumbs, accentuating their force. He kept rubbing, back and forth, tension seeping out of the muscles with every press, letting them breath through the silk. Toya's hand came up, fingertips buzzing for contact. The thumbs stopped, moving to the collarbone and pressing along there instead. A breath hitched. The fingers glided smoothly against the top whilst the thumbs took their time, rubbing deep circles as they went along, firmly against the bone. Then, one hand around the neck... the other thumb pressed with a loving harshness into the sternum, and slid down with the same force, fingers trailing down after, down his body... splitting it in half... The other hand pulled downwards, holding the neck firmly, his lips coming up to suck the skin... and...

"Toya?"

His head immediately snapped towards his brother. Right...He was still there. He tried to subtly catch his breath back, realising how shallow it had become. He looked down, seeing his thumb brushing against the bottom of his shirt. He pretended to have been trying to pull his shirt down. He let the other stay against his neck. That was a normal position, surely…

"Yes?" It was barely a whisper. Not what he intended but, it could still pass off as fitting, he hoped.

His brother looked at him, a slight worry growing on his face. Were we really that obvious?

"Are you okay?"

Everyone had asked him that today. He was getting sick of it, even though he knew they had good intentions. It was entirely on him for not being able to hide this stuff. 'Toya, are you okay?', 'Toya, are you alright?'. No. No he wasn't. But it was just easier to lie and tell them to stop worrying than it was to say what it was that was actually just... ough.

Alright, what's our lie this time?

...With our brother?

We did it with our partner, I don't see what the problem is.

Yes, but we barely talked before and now we're just...

Okay, so we can't say we're sick.

...

Change the topic.

Come on now...

We just need to get to bed, please. We can deal with it in the morning.

"Thank you."

"...Thank you?"

"For driving me this morning. You didn't have to."

"Ah." He adjusted his glasses over his face again. He knows what we're doing . Of course he did. They were of the same blood. These tactics came naturally to them. "Don't worry, I needed to go downtown anyway."

"Okay..."

Then silence again. The drama kept playing, the scene getting progressively more heated until Toya felt it appropriate to look down. Lying to his partner... Avoiding his brother... What was happening to him? How much of this could he blame on the craving and how much was just him...

Speaking of which... when was the last time he had actually had physical touch with his brother? There was the spider, but before that. He knew Tokujiro-san had held him alot, when sneaking them out and holding his hand going down the streets. But his eldest? He couldn't recall. Maybe, when showing him piano once... Was that it? Really, could he not get, at least, a little bit more? Would it be so much...

He heard his brother shift against the sofa, turning to face him more. He glanced at him; he looked concerned. He should... He should probably go now. He turned around.

"Ah, Toya."

"Yes?" He turned his head around.

"I'm not going to be here tomorrow."

Toya's heart sunk. On top of everything else today, this finally tipped it over.

"Oh," he whispered, defeated, "why?" His brother turned the volume down, probably to hear him better.

"We're going to discuss the marriage terms tomorrow."

"...Just you and her?"

"No," he sighed, "our families."

His father sitting in a room with this girl's family, talking about marriage. He cringed internally. He truly wished him the best of luck.

"Ah," his breath hung belatedly in the air, "I hope it goes well." He hummed.

"Me too. But that also means the house will be empty tomorrow, so make sure to take good care of it."

"Empty? Are you going abroad to see her?"

"No, her flight back home just happened to be the day after mine. But she still lives on the other side of the country, so we'll be staying there until it's sorted."

On the other side of the country. Ah, that might be a deal-breaker - for their father, that is. He really did wish the best for him.

"Okay, I will."

His brother nodded, then turned back to the TV. He had hoped he would have stopped to walk with him up the stairs, but that was selfish, now that he thought about it. He turned around and slowly made his way towards them, walking up once he got there.

He tried to hold the handrail as he went up due to being heavily tired, which would decrease his chances of tripping and falling, but just gripping the polished wood was enough to remind him of how he wanted Akito to hold his arm and he let go, risking the fall. It seemed this sickness somehow got braver in the darkness, where it knew he couldn't stop it. It crawled all over his arms and shoulder blades, running over his chest and down into his stomach. It demanded reprieve, to be itched, to be relieved. His body demanded and demanded and demanded more, knowing full well he couldn't provide what it needed. Only Akito could-

Well, Akito could provide the optimum form of it, but really anyone would work. Anyone he cared for, that is. He wondered if his brother would work. Despite their distance, they were still relatively close in terms of family. He looked back down, the room almost nearly covered by how far he had gone up the spiral staircase. No, it wasn't worth it. What purpose would it serve- to see if his brother's hold would help? He doubted it would work anyway. Besides, he was too far up to be turning back around now. He kept going, walking slowly once he got to the first landing to give himself room to breathe before the rest of the trek up.

Here, beyond a door to the side, was the previous playroom, now turned a formal-esque sitting lounge with educational books far beyond the range of their syllabus lining the walls. Oh, and a TV for showing sports matches and such on the side. The 'children's' area. Right, downstairs, as you entered the house and went towards the stairs, there was space to the left of it, continuing the corridor. If you went down this, it led to the guest room, for all the formal meetings between rich parents and potential connections. Toya had only ever been in there once, by accident, when he was trying to hide from his father after coming home too late with his brother. It was massive. It was covered in this greenish-gold colour, with draping silk drawn curtains and fine-carved shelves and candle bulbs and a massive chandelier in the centre, hanging above a grand piano. As far as he knew, only his eldest brother had ever played on it, and that was only so that their father could show off his son's progress. Back then, he thought it was amazing. Now, he felt second-hand pressure just thinking about it; he couldn't imagine how anxious his brother must have felt to play on that thing, in front of so many scrutinising eyes, including their father's. This upstairs room had been for the children to play with toys - that were much too expensive for any child to be touching - whilst the adults talked business downstairs. Obviously, as they grew older, the provisions of the playroom were no longer enough to accommodate for young, growing teenagers. So it became this: covered in deep indigo sofas and carpet and pale grey walls stacked with books for the 'children' to occupy themselves with useful things whilst the adults got drunk on champagne downstairs, or so they liked to joke. The other boys, that is. Toya was a host, so he couldn't join them in their mischief-making.

He made it to the second landing, choosing deliberately to rush past this one. This floor was just one giant corridor towards the piano room at the end. Prestigious pictures and awards lined the walls, flaunting achievements. Almost every other room along the hall was a store room for some instrument part, except for the last door on the left, which was just another storage closet they had transformed into a trophy room. Toya barely ever went in there. Mainly because each award was just a reminder of the years he had rotted away in front of the pained instrument. Not that there was much to look at; he had the least awards in there of all, barely taking up a quarter of the back wall. It was also because each section had a picture of the person next to the awards, and Toya's picture was still the one from when he was barely ten. He couldn't bear to look at his face like this, so he avoided it at all costs.

Slowly but surely, he made it to the top floor, swiftly making his way to his door, opening it quietly the way he did the previous night, and slipping in. The room was partially illuminated by the moonlight that came in through the giant glass door which led to the balcony. He could hear the wind blowing against the glass, grateful he had kept it closed from last night. He made his way over to his bed and collapsed onto it, catching his breath.

These last twenty-four hours had really taken everything out of him. He hadn't gotten a chance to just shut down like this. Finally , he sighed deeply. He could relax, as his brain filed everything away for the night. His hand came up to his shoulder, tracing a pattern along it, imagining it was someone else's. The cotton comforter felt so soft against his body, like if it weren't for the springs of the mattress, he could just fall into them. He straightened himself up on his bed, before he could get too comfortable. He didn't want to fall asleep like this. He quickly wrapped himself up in the blanket again, feeling like someone had wrapped him into the stuffing of a plush. He sighed out, long and deep, sagging further into the warmth.

It took getting this tired for his body to forget its troubles. If that was the case, then maybe he should run a mile everyday before coming home, maybe joining the track club wasn't such a bad idea. He yawned into the pillow, letting the thoughts diffuse out his mind, only growing aware as his hand finished tracing, that he had just drawn out the pattern from the drama again. And he had imagined it as Akito.

His skin began to burn under the blanket, comfortable warmth turning into unbearable heat as immediately sat up, pushing the blanket off of him like it was the plague. He shook, terrified and angry and upset at himself as he lay back down, blanketless. He was doing so well, he was just about to fall asleep and then this- What was he going to do?

Akito- Akito would know what to do. He could make us feel better.

But Akito was the one person he couldn't call. He had just imagined him as- There was no way. He wouldn't be able to talk to him without constantly picturing him as...

He lay back down, all sense of comfort gone, just simply praying this feeling would go away by tomorrow. And yet, despite his guilt, he still kept one hand massaging at his shoulder, praying.

*  *  *

The next day, it was snowing.

For any normal child, this would be a perfect excuse to not practise today, thus allowing him to avoid Akito at all costs. And yes, while he still thought the very prospect of that wasn’t a very smart idea, he wasn't a normal child. Because, unlike normal children, he had a sekai.

He woke up that morning to the obscenely thick snow outside. His first thought had been, Oh... No practise . Followed by, So I don't have to face Akito, thank God . Followed by, Why would I be relieved by that ? I'm a terrible partner . Then he concluded on, I said I was sick, so I should at least follow through...

Stop. We know what we're doing.

We may as well finish this lie instead of piling it on another.

But he already knows...

Just go all the way.

When this is all over, we can go back to normal.

So he began to type out his lame excuse.

Toya

Typing...

Akito

Dont even try it                     10:21

I know youre not sick

Fuck. Well, there went his one failsafe. In fact, this had only made it worse because now, on top of explaining what actually happened, he'd have to explain why he lied as well. Fuck.

He fell back onto the pillow, one hand now on his head as he tried to figure out what to do. He watched as Akito sent more messages, almost coming one after the other, as if he felt like he was running out of time. Because of him.

Look

W edont habe to practise tkday

okay?

Jjst tell me wnats up

That was the problem. Toya wasn't sure if he could. Telling Akito might mean also explaining this whole... imagining thing he was doing as well. And he just wasn't ready for that. That's really all this was, wasn't it? His cowardice. His inability to express himself, as always.

Toya

I'm not sure how.                   10:23

He didn't know if he had the strength to type it all out. He'd very likely get halfway through writing it and then backspace the whole thing out of embarrassment and fear.

Right, that was another thing. He still didn't dare go to sekai. The vocaloids would still very likely be harbouring Toya's embarrassment. Last time, he just barely gotten away with it because Akito had been focusing on him. But this time, there was no doubt he'd notice and, given how scarily perceptive he was, he'd immediately catch on to the feelings coming from Toya. 'Toya... Are you embarrassed to talk to me?' He turned over, burying his face into his pillow, groaning into it. He couldn't deal with that if it happened, which it would. Oh, right. There was also the fact that he had no idea how his innate need for touch would appear in sekai. He didn't want to be there to find out. He looked back at his phone, praying for answers.

Akito

oh...                                         10:24

are u alone rn?

That reminded him, his brother and parents had probably already left. It was just him right now, in his bed, in his empty house. Alone.

The scene played in his head again. His face bloomed red at the idea.

Toya

...Yes.                                     10:24

Akito                             

WIAT                                     10:25

NOT LIEK THAT

im sorry

I swear i didnt

Fuck

Toya giggled.

Toya

It's okay.                               10:25

I know.

Akito

Fuck…                                   10:25

so do u wanna call?

He could almost picture Akito as he lay there, typing that. His body on its side, vest halfway up his torso and his trousers shifted uncomfortably around his waist; face buried in the pillow, orange strands tousling against him as he held his phone in front of him with both hands, gaze concentrated on the keyboard. Then, after hitting send, he moved to lay on his back, one arm moving away from the messages, from Toya , to rest under the back of his neck.

Toya brought one of his own hands to his neck, trying to mimic the action, his fingertips barely brushing against the skin, setting his nerves alight. He wondered if that was where his fingers were, too.

Akito's profile displayed 'typing' again on his screen. He took the few moments to think about calling. The greatest benefit, if anything, was that he'd be able to tell him without having to look him in the face. That alone made this whole thing seem almost worth it.

But it didn't come without the worst con, being that the second Akito should start talking he wouldn't be able to remove his voice from the delusion he had made up in his head. His shoulders suddenly tensed. No , that was so, completely immoral- he could not. And it was that drawback that convinced him to take a step back from his partner again.

Toya

Sorry.                                  10:27

I don't think I can.

He knew this wasn't any better. He knew if he kept doing this he'd only push him away, until he lost him all together. The thought made his gut twist in on itself.

Maybe that would be a good thing. No Akito, no struggle . He berated himself for thinking that at all. No Akito - a good thing? He really was a terrible partner.

Akito

Ugh                                     10:27

I figured

He was starting to get tired of it. Of course he was. Toya knew there was only so much getting avoided a person could take before they became frustrated. He put this upon himself.

But Toya

What was he doing? Doing this to his partner- doing this to himself ? This was all his fault in the first place. Had he not watched that foolish drama...

Look

Could he even blame it on the drama? He was the one who had come up with the idea, and taken all the slightest touches with so much vigour. How did this even start? What had triggered it? He tried to think back, to the spider, to the water fountain, to the cats, the poster, the singing. Was it Akito? His hold on his arm... But that didn't seem to correlate to anything.

It had to have been the drama. Maybe it was just the mood that night; he was tired, his brother was tired, they were watching a romance drama whilst talking about their partners; that seemed like a plausible reason. But why was his body like this . At first, it was only the few areas he needed to be held in, the key perpetrators, but now, it felt like it didn't matter where he was held as long as someone was holding him, and the only permanent solution was Akito. But he just couldn't-

I get if its hard to talk abt

At the reminder of how pathetic it was, his body flared again. He curled in on himself. The phone next to him on the pillow, watching his actions at an angle.

'He couldn't' , 'He couldn't' , how much longer was he going to use that excuse? 'I couldn't' - because he could. Akito was patient, he would listen. He wasn't like his father; he wouldn't jump to conclusions, he'd hear every last thing he had to say. So why was he so worried?

Because it was wrong. He pulled his limbs tighter. If he was trying to tell him about just wanting to be held, then he probably could have done it ages ago. It was because it came packaged with the knowledge that he had been picturing these things- that he'd probably be uncomfortable listening to, nevermind even doing- then... then...

His shoulder buzzed as he gripped it to stop it. His ear tickled and he hid his head under the comforter. His arm reached and he used the other to stop it by the wrist. This distance was enough. He didn't need to make more. Which was selfish in and of itself, now that he knew.

But please

This whole 'need for touch' thing was draining everything out of him. Even when he had no energy left to spare, it was the only impulse strong enough to keep going, attacking him at his weakest. He shivered. No, it attacked him whenever it felt like it, whenever he bothered to remember it was there. He didn't know why he kept feeding it, it did him no good whatsoever.

Maybe, he stupidly thought, he liked the feeling. Because the moment it would be met would give him a far better neural rush than anything he could achieve otherwise. Or maybe it was because some part of him expected - almost wanted - his partner to pick up on it, to make it all better.  Maybe he wanted to go to sekai...

He sighed, sagging further into the plush cotton. He couldn't entertain these ideas. He didn't even know where they came from. They came from his desire. Which came from the episode he had watched..

He didn't know. It was just so much easier to blame it on that since it was the only thing that made sense. Or maybe he just wasn't thinking about it hard enough. He had just woken up, why would he be thinking about anything hard enough?

'Excuses.'

He knew. No need to remind him. He buried half his face in the pillow, keeping one, measly eye open to the phone. He let the screen darken, barely making any attempt to stop it. All it would take was a finger, and he was too weak even for that. A notification popped up, lighting the screen again.

Please dont hide from me

He only shifted his body further into himself as a result. I'm sorry , he thought, hoping that by some miracle of God it would reach his partner, explaining everything and he could just fall asleep here and wake up to when this was all gone.

Maybe he could. Maybe he could just... wait it out. This sensation was a bodily one, so, after a while, it would just leave him alone. It would do it faster if he ignored it as well. It couldn't last that long. This would all pass. Now he felt even worse for being so impatient.

But what would hiding it even do? We've already worried him . That was right. It didn't matter if this went away, he had still made a fool of himself in front of Akito. And there was always the possibility it might come back as well, and what would he do then? Things get easier after the first time . But he didn't want this to be the first time. This should be his last. He never wanted to feel this again. He was probably overreacting. He didn't know what he should do anymore.

He looked back to the screen, barely visible at an awkward angle due to how he was pressing into the pillow. His phone had gone dark, waiting to be alerted by the next notification. His status probably showed offline right now as well. In the middle of their conversation. He had just left. He really was terrible. He had left Akito all alone to talk to a wall, probably only worrying him even more. He knew he was reading the messages, but Akito didn't. He clearly didn't know anything. Because Toya wasn't telling him.

It lit up again.

I cant watch you do this to yourself

He lay there, staring at it, the harsh light of the screen hurting his eyes, making them water. He stayed, staring. Until the screen began to go dark. And then it lit up again.

Please?

And then it stopped. And he kept looking, eyes still racked with sleeplessness and moisture. And his body shook in the ball he had created of himself, causing tremors throughout his person, shaking the comforter around him. And his throat heaved, begging him to use his chest to cough it out, but he just didn't have the energy and his breath shook, escaping his control... and... and…

And he sobbed, and he wasn't even sure why. He just wanted to be held. He just wanted Akito to hold him. Why couldn't he have that much? He wondered, he sought after, selfishly, letting the phone darken once again as he let it fall flat down on he mattress, arms wrapping- gripping at his pillow, pretending that it was his lover instead.

~~~

Why was he here? He really did wonder, his back slouched against the sofa.

That conversation had been a full twelve hours ago. Or so he assumed. He hadn't bothered to check the time for the rest of the day. He didn't want to know. And now he was back down here, in the absolute darkness, watching the episode play again from the beginning.

This. This damn thing had something to do with his craving, he knew it. He watched intently, trying to analyse every movement.

His hand on his shoulder, massaging deep into his skin. He felt every dip as the flesh moved over the bone and then back into place, stretching, refreshed. He ran his thumb over his collarbone, fingers running over the junction to his neck... then, holding his throat, running up and down, over his adam's apple, relishing in the feeling... the other running down his body... tracing him in half... bare skin burning under the LEDs... breathing...

A bag dropped onto the seat next to him, jostling him to sit up straight, breath catching in his throat.

"Hello, Toya."

Wasn't- wasn't he supposed to be alone? He turned around, head tilting up to see...

"Nii-san?"

There, towering above him, taking off the hood of his coat, was his second eldest brother: Tokujiro-san. He stood there, long, dark blue hair dangling over his eyes as he undid the buttons, either not very bothered or way too focused. Toya could never tell. He sat there staring, confused. He was back already? When? How did he not notice - of course he didn't notice. They were made of the same blood, silence should not have come as a surprise to him, and yet...

"You don't seem very pleased to see me." He flung his coat over the back of the sofa, the hood bristling against Toya's neck. He was about to refute it but - "It's alright," he grunted, pulling off his tie, "I won't be back for very long."

Toya's heart sunk at that. But then, in that very moment, he realised that all the Aoyagis would be under the same roof again. Even if not for very long as his brother said. He... wasn't sure if the stirring in his stomach meant he was joyed by the prospect or bothered by it.

He knew his brother had been trying to appeal for his leave of absence for a long time. He had noticed repetitive letters many times he came back home titled 'University of New York, Appeal for Leave, To the Parent / Carer of Tokujiro Aoyagi'. He couldn't blame him for wanting to get away so badly, he couldn't begin to imagine what a life surrounded by so many piano sheets and unerring professors would be like.

"...Your appeal was accepted?" His brother hummed in agreement, head coming back up. Another bag was launched onto the seat next to him, causing him to bounce a little.

"They finally let me go." He stretched, groaning. "It took Nii-san getting engaged for them to finally give me the two weeks off." Ah, right. His brother was still engaged. Shamefully, his eyes moved back to his own hand, sitting on his thigh. Shakily, he thought about how it would feel to have Akito's attention on his fingers. He itched at them subconsciously.

"You can relax, I'm going upstairs now."

"No- I don't..."

His brother came up to the sofa, crossing his arms over the top with a sigh and looking straight forward. The light twinkled in his soft, blue eyes, capturing his face and hair in the process. From this view, he doubted that anyone would be able to guess just how uncaring his persona was. He yawned. Toya echoed.

All of them under the same roof again... He thought about it. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, maybe the house would finally feel a bit more full... A bit more close. His hand came up, lightly gripping his arm. He let his head fall back against the sofa, despite his neck aching at the position. Oh, well.

They stayed like that, just breathing, thinking for a while, until,

"...You watch this?"

Huh? Oh- Oh! Toya immediately turned around, grabbing the remote and trying to turn it off before realising the remote was upside down then flipping it over and around and clicking again and again and it wouldn't turn off and-

His brother chuckled, hands moving to his blazer. "Is the singer boy making you feel things?" Toya dropped back into the sofa, sliding down, head hung in shame.

"His name is Akito..." he mumbled. He chuckled again.

"I didn't realise you had gotten so close since I was gone." He took off his blazer, hanging it over the coat, brushing at Toya's neck again. "But I have been gone for a long while, so..."

That was true. Whilst their eldest brother came back every four or so months, he had been gone for almost sixteen months at this point. He suspected it had something to do with his more, 'unruly' behaviour, making their father less likely to accept his requests for leave of absence. Of course he did. Tokujiro-san was always finding clever loopholes for almost everything piano-related, it was how he had gotten Toya so close to Vivid street that one time.

"Toya... Toya hurry up."

He had been about seven, his brother twelve.

"Where are we going?" he cried, clearly scared about breaking the rules like this.

Their father wasn't home, and he had forgotten to lock the front door.

"It's right over here, we're almost-" They turned a sharp corner, Toya almost crying the sudden movement. He gripped his brother's hand tighter.

"We aren't allowed to be outside this late, father won't like it." He heard him scoff, foot kicking the ground as he led him through the growing wave of people.

"'Father won't find out." That only scared Toya even more. But there wasn't much he could do when he was on a street he didn't recognise, tens of minutes away from home. So he just gripped tighter, speeding up as he tried to catch up to his brother's pace.

They turned a couple more corners, Toya almost crying when he heard him make confused noises, believing they were lost. Then, after a couple more corners and annoyed grunts, the crowd thinned and quiet waves of music began to swim into their ears.

"What's that?" He looked up, seeing his brother's eyes glisten as he looked forward, face enamoured by the sight.

"It's music, Toya," he breathed in awe. Toya had never seen so many people, microphones in hand, chatting freely with open, happy smiles, singing out into the night. It was beautiful.

Every time he turned his head, he saw a new group of people pass by, chatting away, laughing, giggling. Some were by the vending machine, talking over cool, fresh drinks; some were by the wall, dancing on mats with beats popping out of a speaker; some were sitting on the tables outside shops, exchanging conversation over hot cups of tea; some were singing, loud, open. All were happy, as though today was one of the best days of their lives, as though they would all go to sleep tonight, knowing they'd be happy tomorrow as well. Almost like some kind of festival. Toya was enraptured by the sight of so many people being so happy, so free...

So much so, in fact, that he didn't notice that he was no longer holding his brother's hand. He quickly looked around, hoping to see him not having gone too far. When he couldn't find him, he felt his body begin to break into a cry.

"Oi!" His head snapped up, one hand rubbing at his wet eye, sniffling, as he searched for the sound.

In front of him was a boy, looking at him with confusion and concern. "Are you okay?" He asked. Toya shook his head immediately. He knew he shouldn't trust in strangers, but the boy looked like he was about the same age as him. That, and he was desperate.

"Oh, okay," he mumbled, stepping closer. "Here."

Toya felt two hands come to hold his shoulders. He immediately stopped shaking, fear beginning to paralyse his senses. He only sobbed harder as the other boy fumbled his speech, this clearly not being the reaction he was expecting.

"W-Wait! I promise, I'm trying to help, uhm." Suddenly, he sucked in a big breath, the sheer volume of it attracting Toya's attention. He lifted his head up.

"See?" he tried to say through his held breath, ultimately releasing some air in the process and therefore swallowing in again. His chest was puffed out significantly. The sheer absurdity of it all causing Toya to quieten a little. Then the boy breathed out, letting out a massive blow of air. "Just do that." 

Toya didn't seem to understand, the boy clearly guessing as much from how he just stood there, staring at him like some deer in the headlights. He tried to explain again, "You take a deep breath in," - he swallowed in the air -"hold it," he said, trying to reserve as much air as possible, "and then-" he blew out the air again, "breathe out." Then he looked at Toya again, who was now standing up straighter, but still unsure. "My sister told me," he explained, "and she's never wrong." Oh, in that case...

Toya sucked in a large gulp of air, holding it for a measly three seconds before choking it out. "That feels better, right?" Toya stepped back, still coughing out the air. He stood back up, looking at the boy properly this time.

Orange hair and green eyes... What a strange combination. It kind of reminded him of an orange. The boy looked at him, like he was waiting for some kind of answer. Well, Toya thought, breathing again, he did feel a little better, so he supposed it had worked.

"Yes... I think it worked." He looked back up, hoping the response would have made him smile, only to see him burning red at his words.

"A-Are you okay?" He stepped forward, trying to check his temperature with his hand; his mother always did it and it seemed to work so-

"Y-Y-Yeah, I'm fine, don't-" he fought off Toya's hands, taking a massive step back, "don't worry... 'bout it..."

Toya really wanted to make sure he was okay, he had just helped him after all, this was the least he could do in return. It was wrong not to pay people back. He reached forward, trying to help again when a hand held his wrist, pulling him away, accompanied by a relieved,

"Toya!" Both boys turned to face him. It was Tokujiro-san, his brother had come back for him. Toya immediately clung to him.

"Nii-san..." His brother grunted softly, concern and worry and fear and relief painting his voice.

"Come, let's go before mother sees we're not in bed." Toya looked up at him, nodding. They began to walk back through the crowd, Tokujiro's hand gripping Toya's like a vice as he led them. Just before they breached the crowd, however, Toya quickly looked back to check on the orange boy. He seemed to be wrestling off someone who he assumed was his older sister, since they looked so similar. Half-way through his retaliation, the boy looked back over his shoulder, cheeks blooming red as they met eyes for a brief moment, before Toya lost sight of him behind the barrage of people.

The next time that he tried to sneak them out again, Toya didn't put up as much of a resistance.

The back of his hand sat over his forehead as he smiled dopily, his breathing shallow. He could feel the sweat condensing on his knuckles. He could almost laugh at how close they had been. His other hand rested over his shoulder, rubbing up and down the skin. He did laugh, at how much closer he wanted to get, how greedy his skin had gotten for Akito. His hands and shoulders had already gotten enough attention. It wasn't enough anymore. It wasn't… enough... Oh, what was he doing?

"Are you going to sort this out? You can't walk around the house like this." He semi-snapped out of his daze upon hearing his brother's voice, now echoing from the distance. He pushed himself off the sofa, needing to do it twice due to his limbs acting too softly the first time, and quickly joined him at the foot of the stairs. He gave him a weird look but asked nothing of it, simply filling the space as they walked up the stairs, close, close, closer. But never close enough.

*  *  *

He had wanted to see Akito so badly today. He had moved everything out of the way just to go see him: all his studies, his homework, his duties around the house. And yet, at the end of the day, he could never be truly in control of anything. Not while he still lived under his father's roof.

As it turned out, their parents had booked them to meet with a tailor to get measurements. It was for their suits for his brother's wedding: that meant their engagement had been accepted. He was happy for his brother, genuinely; he'd be able to marry the person he loved. That must be an amazing feeling. However, that didn't stop him from feeling agitated at the fact it was stopping him from meeting his own.

The bus stopped, letting him out amongst a sea of people as they entered the main street. They would have walked, but his brother said he was too tired after the journey back to Tokyo and bought them bus passes instead.

He knew his parents liked to get things done early, but this was still too much. They had just accepted the proposal and had already booked an appointment? He couldn't really say he didn't expect it: his mother had enough connections to keep them in comfort for a lifetime. He was pretty sure that was one of the reasons his parents had gotten married, actually. It would heavily surprise him if they had had a love marriage, not that he ever intended on asking.

His brother walked a little ahead of him, looking focused; that was the only name he could come up with for the expression. All the Aoyagi brothers had dead set resting faces but, unlike Toya, whose face was always expressionless, his brother's had this air of attitude in it as if to say 'I'm here on business, move to the side.' Whether he was aware of it or not, people did move out of their way. Toya felt self-conscious about it, worried that the sudden rush of people - as they turned the corner, under the flyover-  would cause his head to overload. Luckily, his brother was aware of this development and moved to the side of the pavement, next to a long brick wall outlining some private property. It was in times like these Toya wished his partner was with him, holding his hand.

The other side of the road was laden with small shops and random street vendors. A flower shop, a bakery, a cake shop, a diner, a frankfurter vendor in between, a clothing shop, a pizza shop, a cafe, a turkish ice cream seller, a bookstore, a butcher's, a series of fruit stalls, another flyover, another corner, a uniform store and then the tailor's. They crossed the road, Toya trying his best to avoid as many people as possible as they made it to the door and walked in.

The bell rang, and then peace. The inside of the store was quiet, save for the shuffling of fabrics and the tailors talking to each other, making small notes. Other than that, it was silent.

He tried looking around at the expensive fabrics and threads and clothes, not failing to notice the rich red colour coating the walls and floors of the place as well as the fresh smell of fabric, but it wasn't long before a young woman came up to him, asking him if he was Aoyagi Toya and, upon receiving confirmation, whisked him away to the fitting room. It was a shame, he was looking forward to being able to sit down after coming all this way, which was strange, now that he thought about it. How was it that he could survive entire days of practise with his teammates but was feeling tired after a bus drive and a walk? He really wanted to be with Akito today, he sighed. She brought him to a changing room behind a curtain, asking him to stay there as the tailor would arrive shortly. Mentally, he hoped they'd take their time.

As soon as she left, he pulled his phone out of his pocket, not having had time to check it since rushing out of the house that morning.

Akito

Yo                                                                                                 08:12 

U coming today?

Oh, he hadn't told Akito yet. How could it have slipped his mind?

Toya

I can't come right now.                                                             11:23

Akito

Typing...

Toya

My parents booked me for the tailor's.                                  11:24

Akito

Oh                                                                                                 11:24

R u there rn?

Toya

Yes.                                                                                             11:24

Akito

Typing...

Toya

It shouldn't take too long.                                                        11:24

Akito

Alr                                                                                                11:25

We're heading to sekai anw

Come when ur done, okay?

Toya

Okay.                                                                                           11:25

:)

Akito

:)                                                                                                  11:25

Luv u man

Toya

I love you too                                                                             11:25

He stayed there on their messages, even after Akito's status went offline. Talking to his partner had somewhat put him at ease, but something was still off.

It was frustration, he realised. It was killing him that Akito was so close to him and yet so very far. In just this moment, he was only one button press away from hearing his voice and yet on the opposite end of the city at the same time. It would just take playing Untitled once to meet him, just as he had been craving since morning and yet...

There was no one around right now. He could afford one quick-

No. That was his desperation talking, his impulse. The last time he had trusted either of those he had ended up running away from his partner and not answering his messages. It was a dangerous thing and he refused to give into it again, out of fear he should do something else equally, if not more careless.

His eyes stayed on the screen, studying it, looking over each message again. Their conversations had gotten shorter. It would have been fine if they had been busy or meeting in person, excusing the lack of online interaction, but they weren't. Their shortest conversations had started from around...

Three days ago. When his craving had started. This was all his fault.

And of course, at the reminder, his arm buzzed for attention again. He rubbed harshly up and down at it, his way of saying 'Stop it. This is not the time.' He had gotten kind of used to it at this point. Well, ‘used to’ was a generous phrase. This wasn't the type of feeling he could ever normalise. However, his feelings towards it had gone from hatred to semi-acceptance. He had decided that morning that he was going to wait it out. It was really the only option he had at this point.

The screen darkened, going out. He could hear footsteps approaching his area. He put the phone back in his pocket, waiting. The curtain was pulled back and a tall, astute woman walked in.

"You must be Aoyagi Toya." Her voice was firm but welcoming. Distantly, it reminded him of Meiko-san. He nodded. She smiled, brushing the short strands of her hair to the side. "Alright then, Aoyagi-san. If you could raise your arm."

He obliged, raising his arm as she pulled out her measuring tape, placing it from his shoulder to his wrist. It flared under her attention, but he dared not pay it any mind, just stiffening as he continued. Her hair looked like Len's from this angle: short and blonde.

His thoughts went back to the vocaloids. The others were probably in sekai by now, practising with them. And he was here, getting measurements for a suit he wouldn't be wearing a good few months. He pulled in his stomach as she measured from his shoulder to his waist.

Maybe they hadn't started yet. It was likely that they were just getting to sekai, or waiting for one of the other members to show up. Their newest song was with Len, and there was a good chance he'd be late, so maybe he could still make it in time. He really shouldn't be thinking like this; he should want his teammates to be getting as much practise as possible. But he also wanted to spend as much time as possible with Akito, and every second he was here, was a second of time they could spend gone. "Please keep your foot still." He stood straight again, tape now going from his hip to his ankle.

He thought of their new arrangement, featuring Len. The song had initially been intended for them to sing with Meiko, but they discovered that Len's vocals actually fit the tone of the song better, so they made some adjustments for him instead. He was always so passionate when it came to music. Almost all of his disputes with Rin were about songs and music and the like. It was always so inspiring to hear him talk about it, he'd always get this sparkle in his eye when he did, as if he were explaining the most interesting story in the world. It reminded him of Akito in a way. He had said he didn't get the connection, but Toya could see it.

It was that passion that made him loud as well, not in a bad way. Rather, it was endearing, it made listening to him so easy, no matter the topic. It made him impulsive as well, making him quick to speak his mind, like...

'Toya's sick!'

Oh, right. The tape went from shoulder to shoulder, constricting him, bringing his shoulders to tighten. Len- the vocaloids were still affected by his... He gulped. The scream, the coffee, the vase, the kicking at the counter...

It couldn't have gotten worse... right?

She placed it across his waist.

It definitely had. And Len wasn't exactly known for being quiet either...

Then across his chest.

And they would be practising with him. Right now. Before he'd even have a chance to get to sekai.

Wait. Sekai.

"Alright, your measurements are done," she smiled. "If you could just try on some of your previous suits so we can see how they fit." She quickly turned around, rolling in a rack of his older clothes through the curtain. She picked out a suit he had worn to some distant cousin's recital over a year ago, handing it to him and stepping outside for him to change.

He couldn't- he couldn't. Not right now. He had let this feeling sink for too long, there was no way it hadn't shown up there already, he had to go-

"Toya." It was his brother's voice. "We need to go in five minutes." His phone vibrated in his pocket. Fuck.

His hand moved away from the pocket, fighting as to whether or not he should check it. He weighed his options and then sighed, defeated. He'd have to do this as fast as possible then. He quickly changed out of his own clothes and into the new ones, letting them know immediately. He struggled not to itch himself at how tight it felt. She came back in, checked how it fit and then handed him another one, this one from the beginning of the year.

Then they left, and he changed again. His eyes kept darting to the phone as he did, the urge to just drop everything and pick it up again only amplifying the more he did. He slid the shirt over his head, quickly calling them back in as he adjusted it around his waist. She looked at it for a little longer this time, observing carefully. He didn't have time for this. He just needed her to decide whether it fit or not and move on. His eyes met his brother's as he glanced over her shoulder. '...What are you doing?' they asked. He wished he could explain. He couldn't even understand it himself. He instantly reaverted his attention to the tailor as she handed him yet another outfit. He took it hastily, the curtain closing.

He didn't have time to remember where this one was from, maybe a few months ago, as he slid his leg into the trouser, haphazardly adjusting it over his hips. He grabbed the button up shirt, almost wrinkling it with the force. Of course it had to be a button up. He strangled off his t-shirt, quickly shuffling his arms through the sleeves, going to close the stubborn buttons. He got to the third one when his phone buzzed from the floor and he almost tripped over the mess of clothes in his haste to pick it up.

"Aoyagi-san? Are you alright?"

"Yes-" he called back, standing up and finishing the buttons, sliding the blazer over his shoulders and once again calling them back in. She really took her time with this one, perhaps in retaliation to him making a mess of the clothes instead of placing them gently back on the rack, but he really didn't have the time. His mother might end up hearing about this, but that wasn't his primary concern. He stood there, hand knocking at his hip impatiently until she said, "It looks good, Aoyagi-san. We'll call you when its ready."

"Thank you," he replied too fast for it to be considered normal but they finally closed the curtain, allowing him to get back into his clothes as soon as possible. He walked out, briskly making his way towards the exit, pulling out his phone and opening it to the new messages.

An

Toya? Are u free?                                                         11:32

Akito said u were at the tailors rn

An

Are u gonna finish soon? We kinda need u               11:36

An

Toya!!!!                                                                           11:42

Kohane

Aoyagi-kun, could you come to sekai?                       11:44

Shinonome-kun said you could help

Oh shit, oh fuck.

His brother caught up behind him. He looked like he was about to ask some serious questions about the display of character he put on in the shop but he didn't have time. His friends were in trouble because of him not being able to control his own impulses, and given the fact only Akito hadn't sent any messages... His brother looked at him, suspicion lacing his features as he went to speak-

"I need to use the bathroom."

He knew he didn't buy it, but given how he seemed to go back to his normal face after, it didn't matter.

"The diner has one." He was so grateful to him for not asking further. He didn't really need a bathroom, just a secluded place where he could play Untitled. He walked as fast as he could without running, back around the corner, under the flyover and onto down the street, dodging as many people as he could, trying to find any quiet place amongst the sea of people. His brother was on the other side of the road, obscured behind the crowd, heading towards the bus stop. He kept going, past the bookstore, the cafe, the turkish ice cream, the pizza store, the clothing store, until he finally found an alley behind the frankfurter vendor. He ran past, into the alley, going right to the back behind the clothing store to ensure no one would see him. Then he pulled out his phone, opened the playlist and played it, closing his eyes as the world dissolved into shapes around him.

The second he felt himself standing on solid ground again, he ran, speeding around the corners, trying to get to crase cafe. The sky darkened over him, the clouds trying to wrap into each other, greying in their desperation; he felt a choke well up in his throat at the suffocating air. While almost there, he saw Rin and Len trying to empty Meiko's vase of flowers - pink camellias - into the bush by some window, with a very concerned Luka looking over them. Upon hearing his footsteps, they turned to face him, all immediately growing a red blush as he got closer. He slowed down as Luka started talking.

"Ah, Toya-"

"We didn't do anything!"

"We thought it was a good idea!"

Len spoke, followed by Rin.

"...What was?"

Rin gestured towards the flowers. "We saw them in sekai and started to grow them, we didn't think we were doing anything wrong," she said guiltily.

"Meiko-san gave us permission! She didn't know either," Len added, clearly being defensive.

Toya looked between the two of them, confused, before looking up to Luka.

"Yeah, we were all fine with the flowers being in sekai, until they started causing problems."

"Problems?"

"Yeah, it's crazy. They only showed up thr-"

"Toya? Toya! Are you there?"

"A-Aoyagi-kun, please come quick!"

Their voices came from around the next corner. Toya ran, apologising to the twins and Luka before arriving at the cafe. Kaito stood there outside, hacking away with a coffee mug at a group of obscenely long stems that seemed to reach into a tangle inside the cafe. An and Kohane stood at the other side of the tangle, Kohane waving at him to get his attention whilst An wildly gestured at the stems and then inside, motioning for Toya to go in.

He didn't want to, he didn't know if he could face it. He was about to ask if they could go instead but,

"We can't get past the flowers." He turned around to see Meiko-san behind him. "We've tried. They get thicker every time we get close."

Miku stood next to her, still pointedly looking away from him, blushing more than any of the others. Then, although sounding heavily unimpressed, she spoke to him.

"Akito said to call you. It would work for you." So he knew.

"I-Is he..." But she went silent again, looking away from him and refusing to make eye contact.

He turned back around, watching the thickening patch of flower stems. With Akito in there, in the middle of it. He didn't really have a choice.

He walked forward, into the shroud and, surprisingly, it made way for him. Almost too much, in fact. It wasn't only that the stems moved away from him, it was almost as if... As if they were avoiding him. Oh. But still, he went onwards, walking easily to the front door and sliding in.

It was an entire blockage of stems and leaves. The leaves wrapped around the stems and and stems around the leaves, almost cutting through each other in their grip. Every time his gaze fell on an area, they only grew bigger, moving faster to secure each other as if they were afraid he'd rip them apart. He panicked, hoping Akito hadn't been constricted to death in here. He tried walking towards the massive knot, hoping it would make some way for him. When it didn't, he called out.

"Akito!"

Then, distantly,

"Toya!"

It was barely audible through the thick cellulose, but enough for him. At that, almost immediately, the stems shifted themselves around, making room for Toya to pass. He ran through, to the other side of the cafe, finally spotting... his...

Akito was backed against the wall, fighting off the camellias with his mic as they tried to smother his face and body. The pinks became delicate under the artificial lighting of the cafe, washed over with orange. The orange-dyed pinks even somewhat reflected through the petals onto his face, creating spots of dappled light, like mini spotlights, trying to highlight every inch of his skin. Even the buds burst into full bloom once they got within arm's length of him, trying to reach him greedily through the tangle and only twisting themselves further around each other as a result. He attempted to push one back with his fist, but it just wrapped around his knuckles instead.

He called for him again. Akito looked towards him, relief flooding his face before becoming discontent. Toya made his way over, trying to push the flowers back with his hands to little effect. He turned to Akito.

"I'm so sorry-"

"What's wrong? Tell me-" he shouted; a flower tried to snap at him. Toya immediately went quiet. He phrased it like he was curious, like he was asking about the weather or what he was just doing but there was a desperate anger in his voice. His soul sunk; hearing Akito in that tone tore something inside him. He had so sincerely hoped he'd never have to face this again.

"...What?" It barely escaped, hoarse and dry.

Akito shifted behind the flower wall, taking a deep breath. He tried again, still somewhat agitated but much, much softer.

"What's wrong, Toya?"

What did he mean? 'What's wrong, Toya?' He was the one being strangled by flowers.

"I know this is coming from you, partner." He tried to smile. Toya only looked at him, more disheartened than before. He took a deep breath again, bringing his free hand up to Toya's cheek, holding the pink skin oh so gently. "Please," he swiped a thumb across his lips, "tell me.”

This was absurd. His partner was being drowned by his uncontrolled emotions, that he should have let out or at least learnt to control ages ago and he was still only thinking of… of...

...

What are we doing?

He released a shaky breath, almost a cry, letting himself relax into Akito's hand, bringing up his own to hold it. At the mere contact of their fingers, his fingertips gasped with static, the camellias loosening their grip around his partner, as if they were sighing in relief. Akito noticed this.

"...Toya?"

He didn't say anything, only breathing again as he lowered his head, baring his forehead to his partner.

And of course, his wonderful, beautiful partner knew what to do. He leaned forward, pressing a firm, gentle kiss to the skin, the flowers sagging down further as he relished in the contact. Toya kept it there, not moving, prompting Akito to move in again, keeping his lips against his forehead as he kissed him again, and again, and again, and again, and again until he was satisfied, until the camellias draped over his forearms, and he held Toya steadily in place by the waist.

Until Toya's arms came around him, trying to keep himself from falling onto his knees. Until Akito moved to his cheeks, covering them in affection, dotting his nose with the soft presses of his lips. And Toya fell into it, not daring to move away from his partner.

But he couldn't keep enjoying this forever. Not whilst his brain still played images of Akito's hands dragging over his neck and shoulders, and arms and torso... As much as this fed his body's crazed desire for his touch, he still knew it was wrong and it would probably only make the feeling worse by tenfold once he let go.

So, it was with an aching heart that he dropped his hand into the pocket of his beloved partner's hoodie, and pressed the end of the volume button, until the song faded from the speakers. And when he looked up again, the flowers were nowhere to be found. And neither was Akito.

~~~

He lay restless in bed, unable to fall into any form of a peaceful sleep. It was the same as all the nights before. He thought that as if it had been going on for months. It had only been three days.

That disqualified the possibility of this being an illness, because usually illnesses absolve by the third day, but this was only getting worse. He lay there and, whether intentionally or not, traced the pattern across his body once again. He knew he couldn't make a habit of this, but he also knew he couldn't stop. It was the one thing providing him some relief from this sick feeling; he needed it. He needed-

This was his problem? Perhaps it had always been his problem. What did he know anymore? Clearly nothing- clearly-

He forced his body up and off the bed with a grunt, giving himself a moment to let the wave of dizziness pass. He needed to tell someone, to ask someone what to do; he didn't want to think anymore. The clouded moonlight filtered through the tree leaves and into the balcony window, giving his room just enough illumination for him to make out most of it. A part of his brain was trying to convince him that no one would want to know about it, or know what to do with it, but he pushed himself forward, walking towards the door, knowing that if he listened to it again and tried to sort it out himself he'd only end up right back here. He couldn't take these chances anymore. It wasn't worth it. He slowly creaked open the door, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness.

He walked down the corridor, keeping his steps purposefully silent, even though his father wasn't there. That was the danger of making a habit, even after telling yourself you'll break it once you have the chance, you do it anyway.

Enough. He couldn't think about this anymore, not when his body was covered in the feeling, almost scratching him with it. All the way down his neck to the ends of his shoulder blades, pooling in the tips of his fingers, wrapping around his abdomen, flaring throughout him and begging for Akito.

His bare feet chilled with every step across the tiled floor, only making it worse. His breaths were irregular, deep, trying to supply him with all the oxygen his craving was taking up. His eyelids felt heavy. He considered whether this was even worth it. At this point he had almost definitely destroyed the layers of trust between them. His heart convulsed. Was there anything he could even salvage now? He had visited sekai one more time quietly on his own late at night. It was almost entirely rundown in camellias, the vocaloids too drained from the constant rush of longing to be able to do anything about it. He should have noticed the signs the first time. Flowers in the cafe? Since when? And after pushing Akito out of sekai?

He stopped in front of his brother's door, contemplating whether it really was worth it now. He knocked. His partner, whether he could still refer to him as such, had still taught him to fight for what he believed. And curse him if he didn't believe in Akito. He heard a click, looking up as his brother opened the door.

"...Toya?" His voice was clear and laced with confusion. He hadn't been sleeping. Of course.

"Nii-san..." It came out a lot more pathetically than he expected.

"What do you want?" He opened the door more fully, showing he was listening.

"I..." he coughed, "It's about Akito." His brother only grew more confused at that, shifting the door a little.

"Wouldn't... you rather talk to Nii-san about that?" He asked awkwardly.

"He's not here."

"Can it not wait until he is?"

"No, I need-" his voice broke at the end.

The Aoyagis weren't one for emotions, but he and his second brother were probably the closest out of all of them. They could afford to be a bit more open. His brother sighed.

"What is it?"

"I..."

Why are we wasting his time? This isn't his problem.

...What happened to 'we need help'?

He's tired and clearly wants nothing to do with this.

With us.

We need his help.

Let him sleep.

Come on... We can trust him.

It's been years since we were that close.

It's about time we let go.

...No.

He stumbled forward, one foot crossing the threshold of his brother's room. His brother took a step back, away from him.

"Toya," he said more firmly, "What is it?"

He looked up at him. What was it? His desire, his need to be held, to selfishly demand attention, that's what it was. He felt like he was six again, looking up at his brother, pleading him with his eyes to help him sit up on the piano seat. He probably thought he had gone crazy. But he just- he really needed someone around him right now. He could blame it on spending too much time around Akito, which was just so ironic given his situation. He'd laugh to add to his image of insanity if his body wasn't already one slip up away from collapsing.

"I-" he gasped out, hanging his head, the strands barely touching his brother's shirt.

"I think I've ruined it," he whispered, voice hoarse again. He kept his eyes trained on the floor, in fear that looking anywhere else would cause him to break.

"Ruined what?" He spoke a semi-whisper, yet still stilted.

"With Akito. I think I've become a terrible partner," he breathed, "to him," he added.

"What did you do?"

Toya's voice croaked at the question. He really did feel six. He brought his hands up to his face, burying it in his palms, fingers gripping weakly at his hair, creasing his forehead. He realised how childish it looked but...

He tried to say 'I', but at the opening of his mouth, all that escaped was an uglier, wetter croak, ripping his vocal cords loose. He stumbled again, this time his head making an unceremonious collision with his brother's chest. He would have pulled back but... who was he kidding... A sob escaped. He moved his hands down to cover his betraying mouth.

His brother stilled. Then, he felt a hand grip his shoulder.

"Toya."

He didn't reply. He shook his shoulder a little. "Toya." Toya looked back up at him slowly, worried about being this open in front of anyone, never mind his brother. He was met with cold, iced eyes. And yet, even through the years of torture, making up the rings of his iris, he could spot, somewhere beneath the glacier, a matchstick of warmth. His brother stood up straight, releasing contact from him. He stood up straight too, or, as well as he could.

"Toya, what is this about?" He tried to collect himself. We're here now, we should at least answer that much . He breathed.

"I want to be close to him, but I keep doing things that are-" he choked, gasping for breath again. His brother's grip tightened. "that are... driving him away from me." He gasped silently. "I don't know why." He finished with barely any breath left. His brother hummed.

"In what way?"

"Huh?"

"You want to be close, in what way?" He saw him ever so slightly cringe at the phrase. He was grateful to have a brother who was willing to endure so much for him.

"...Physically." His brother shot him a questioning glance. "Not... not as in..."

"Okay..." Now he sounded more confused, as if he was asking him something with an obvious answer. Toya waited.

"Then go visit him."

"I don't think I can."

"You've done it before."

"It wasn't as bad as it is now."

"You've always had a habit of playing things up in your head, Toya. You want to be physically closer? Go to his house. You can't get much closer than that." He made it sound so simple, as though the answer was so easy.

Of course he would, he doesn't know what it's like.

Well, we asked the one person who wouldn't know. We should have expected this.

"Nii-"

"I'll call his parents and tell them you're coming if it's too much trouble for you."

What- no! Stop him!

"Nii-san-!"

"Go. It's that simple, Toya."

Please.

No.

We can't.

"Nii-san!" But the hand had left his shoulder, and the door was shut in front of him. He stood there, head hung, breathing.

He's gotten sick of this, that's the only reason he did this-

That doesn't matter! We have to somehow...

But he knew couldn't do anything. Whether it killed him or not, he was going to visit him. Whether he'd fix this or not, it was going to happen. His body flared at the absence of touch and he brought a hand to his shoulder, rubbing it, picturing it was Akito's.

*  *  *

He stood in front of the Shinonome residence, unable to knock. In his defense, he had never needed to knock before. Every time he had been here, he had been with Akito. They would just walk up and he would let him in. It wasn't so simple anymore.

He could have just turned around and walked away, no one was making him do this. Our brother - No, no. He couldn't blame this on him either. There had been a blackout in their area last night, so he wasn't able to call them then, and in the morning there was no one picking up the phone. 'We'll have to try again tomorrow.' But he couldn't. If he let his brother make the call he'd truly lose control of the entire situation. He now knew that stress made the feeling stronger so if he was going to be here, it had to be on his own terms.

But... did it have to be so hard? He grinded his foot against the ground, trying to channel the strength into his ar- his hand. Screw him. He scratched at his wrist, a silent 'be quiet'.

It was extremely late to be knocking on anyone's door. There were crickets humming in wet bushes from somewhere along the road, filling the fresh air of night time. He looked anxiously down at the moth lamp next to the door frame, illuminating a quarter of his face with it's lavender colour. A single moth landed on it, joining the rest, looking up at him as if to say, 'What are you doing here?' He looked away from it in shame. He stood there, his muscles tensing one by one for every second he didn't act and it almost drove him away from the door to take the next bus back home when...

"Aoyagi-kun?"

Ena stepped up next to him on the doorstep, holding several bags of what looked like clothes.

"Shinonome-san..." he started.

"How long have you been waiting out here?" She fumbled around with the bags, trying to fish out the key from her pocket and inserting it into the lock. "Sorry, our parents are off on work," she grumbled, "I don't think anyone's been home all day." She pushed open the door with her elbow, walking in. She turned her head around, motioning to Toya. "Come inside." It sounded agitated, but that probably had more to do with the bags that kept slipping off her arms than with Toya. She kneed open the living room door, cursing the one bag that made it down to her wrist. He hesitantly followed in after her.

When he made it to the living room, she was already on the other side, dumping the bags onto the kitchen counter. He tried looking around in the darkness, no one having turned on any of the lights.

There was one light on: the TV. It played some advert about toothpaste. She mumbled something about forgetting to turn it off. There was a brown-ish looking sofa situated in front of it, separated by a thick, wooden table on some kind of a carpet. Both seemed to be worn with use, with several rips and scratches along their edges and surfaces. The room itself was quite small. Though, he supposed any room would look small compared to his house. There was a dining table near the back wall with some misfit mugs and leftover plates scattered around over it, all empty. The wall itself had a drawer pushed against it filled with a candle, a few traditional figures and a random glass alongside pictures and trophies he couldn't quite make out from this distance. He took a measly step in. On the other side was a small kitchen set-up, right in the back corner. There were several things poking out of the cupboards and littered about the counters, like salt and pepper holders, pans left on the stove, a bowl of assorted fruits and vegetables, a jar of biscuits- or were they cookies, he couldn't tell in this lighting. The faint yellow light of the fridge caught his attention as Ena opened it, looking through. She mumbled something along the lines of there never being enough food in the house, closing it, enveloping them in near-darkness again. She stood in front of the fridge door, grumbling quietly to herself before seeming to remember that Toya was there. "Oh, right." She walked up to him, going past and back down the corridor. She shouted back, "I'm going to get food," - the keys jingled loudly as she brought them out again - "Akito should be back soon," she smiled, closing the door and leaving him awkwardly standing in the doorway.

He stood there, shifting about weirdly, feeling uncomfortable in his position. This is your partner's house. What are you doing, acting like this?   Were they? Were they still partners? Yes. Come on, let's at least turn on the light. He looked beside the door for the light switch, only to find a maze of switches flicked on or off in no particular pattern. He was not about to stand there trying each individual one, just in case he turned on something he shouldn't have. So, despite all his brain cells banging against his head, asking him what the hell he was doing, he moved past it.

His steps were long, far too large of a stride for a place as small as this. He chose to attribute it to the massiveness of his home, rather than admit he had just forgotten how to walk. He made it to the sofa, sitting down, taking up too much space and yet none at all. He relaxed back against it, sliding himself to the further end, closer to the back.

He already felt sweaty, despite none of the heaters being on. He pressed his legs closer together, toying with the rip in his leggings, not caring if they opened up, hoping the threads would zip apart, unraveling him open to the world, sewing themselves back over the threads of the sofa, trapping him in it. The strands of his hair sloppily kissed his forehead as his skin grew enraged. He let his head fall onto his shoulder, trying to become one with the corner.

What was he doing here? He had no reason to be here. He had no plan. What was this, then? To prove he was in control? What kind of... No... it wasn't worth it. He was here now. And after Ena-san went through all of that trouble? Opening all the doors for him and walking him through like he was some lost child? He felt like one. He was sixteen and a boy half his age knew better manners than this. He was sixteen and a boy half his age could pull himself together after going through much worse. A different boy. All his cells had reformed almost twice over now and he could confidently say he was not the boy in the trophy room. One of them was stronger and the other was... him.

His eyes fell down to the floor, half-picturing a smaller, younger version of himself looking up at him, scared at how pathetic he was. And what could he say? That things get better?

Okay... he couldn't go that far. They had. He would be ungrateful if he said his life now wasn't leagues better than what he was before. He had managed to tear himself away from his accursed destiny, paving his own. He had a partner, he had friends. He had a lover, who may or may not still want anything to do with him. He was overreacting. He was loved, he was free. He had successfully ran away from the life he had hated so much, looking over his shoulder at his brothers, watching him leave the way they had been trying to for their entire lives. He had everything they had spent their entire childhood begging their father for. And this is what he was doing with it.

He allowed himself a breath. Right, he was here now. Whatever happened would happen... whether he liked it or not.

He put his eyes back on on TV, lazily watching as several ads played by, their obnoxious tunes filling his head whilst he tried desperately not to think anymore. He thought back to how this all started, with his brother, with the TV. He thought of how far along their engagement had come, how much closer they had become since he came back. He thought of how much had driven himself away from Akito in the meantime. There was something darkly funny that could be said about him taking his brothers' desires, and now with them taking his. He felt like there was some invisible hand choking it out of him, his sanity, his lover, like a rent that had been long overdue. He was paying to his head rent to stay in there, in that clouded, congested, claustrophobic chamber that overpacked itself until the hinges and bolts and nuts and screws started squeaking loose and all was coming undone by his own unpractised hand and oh my God he was going crazy. He was actually going crazy- he had already...

You know what... he didn't have the strength to think about it right now. Maybe never, maybe he'd think about this never, he just... he sighed, sinking somehow further into the leather. He rubbed at his shoulder, trying to dissipate some of the ache. His nerves came to a low buzz, crawling all over him, pricking at him along with the loose threads of the sofa. Uncomfortable, which was the point. Because his body knew he could do nothing to stop it in this state. He wondered if he'd ever feel comfortable in his own skin again.

He heard the distant click of a door, Ena's footsteps rushing upstairs. He wondered if she moved her doors carefully too, or if she opened them as loud as she wanted to. Akito was loud- his partner. His wonderful, beautiful partner. He allowed himself a lopsided smile, picking at the threads of his leggings. He was loud, as loud as he liked. He sang with his chest and spoke with his heart. With passionate, green eyes, glittering in the smallest rays of sunlight; with bright, orange hair that tousled playfully in the wind, joining his raucous laughter, matching with the iced orange drinks he drank in the summer, the cool condensation chilling down his hand; with the hand he always kept on his shoulder, never more than an arm's reach from his partner, ready to turn to him at any moment with his proud, joy-ridden smile; his sweet, precious lips, whispering affections into the itch of his ear, dragging across his collarbone, right to the centre. He pressed, in a pleasant harshness to the bone, dragging the thumb down his body, feeling as each individual finger made touch down through his clothes, sliding it down, relishing in the-

"...Toya?"

He snapped his head to the side.

Akito. Akito was stood there, half washed in the white of the TV. He was looking at him with confusion and concern laced in the creases of his forehead. His eyebrows were knit together, like he didn't know what he was supposed to make of this. His hoodie was zipped open and he had a bag of something Toya didn't bother trying to decipher because he pulled his head away and hid his face into the corner of the sofa, pushing himself into it. He grabbed the remote, flicking the TV off and dropping it back on the table, arms coming to close himself in, drenching himself in darkness.

"Wait!" He heard him put the bag down on the floor, flailing to get his hoodie off but he didn't care. He needed to get as far away from him as possible- what was he even doing here? This is his house. Yes, he knew that, but when? When had he come home and how had he been too ignorant to not notice it and-

The footsteps. They were Akito's. He hadn't just come from outside, he had come from upstairs. How stupid was he? That he couldn't even register his own partner's footsteps anymore? Was that how blind this sick illness had made him? That he couldn't even remember something as recognisable as...

He felt the cushion next to him bend. He only curled into himself even more, knees coming up, his feet awkwardly off the floor. His hands grabbed onto the edge of the sofa as well as he could, ducking his head, praying this would all go away.

Akito shifted next to him. "Toya..." And he said it so softly, so sweetly, like he was a light swan who would flap its feathers fearfully and run away to the other side of the fountain if he was too loud. "It's just me. Toya, please..."

That was the problem. It was just him. He curled into himself tighter, trying to squeeze the feeling out of his body as it ravaged under his skin, trying to tear its way out to seize him, rendering him immobilised to any action his brain chose to take. But that wouldn't be of much help either, because the sensation had completely torn through his brain, ripping out his rationale and begging him to just 'go, take it' , but he couldn't, not like this. He refused, he begged.

He breathed raggedly, his breath suffocated due to breathing into leather. His brain pleaded, if he wouldn't let himself give in then at least let himself breathe. At least. He brought his face out of the edge ever so slightly, opening his mouth and gasping in for breath. He tried to keep it as quiet as possible but... They both knew it was futile.

"Toya..." he sounded pained. Why are you running away from me, partner? Why was he... He shrank into himself, one hand gripping harshly at his hair as he slid down. He was in his very house, sitting on his sofa and still managing to avoid him. He could just tell him now... there was nothing stopping him, except for the knowledge that the second he'd turn around he knew he would latch onto Akito, worrying him more and only ruining himself in the process. Really? Was he still coming up with excuses for his behaviour at this point? Nothing was stopping him other than himself. His brother told him to just tell him, his partner was asking him to tell him... And what did he have to fear in front of Akito? What was there he could say to drive away his partner who, even after all of this, still loved him so dearly? Still reached out to him with open arms. It was him. He was the only one taking it so seriously. And that only made him feel even more guilty, for wasting the time of the people he loved for this. He tried to voice this, to say that it had been eating away at him for so long, but his mouth refused to open, his lips glued together, and when he finally chapped them open-

"Please-" It was an ugly, wet croak of a sound. He heard Akito shift closer to him, probably mostly out of worry and half out of relief because he had finally spoken a plausible word to him since lying about being sick in sekai almost ninety-six hours ago. It didn't really sound like much, put like that. All the more reason to stitch himself into the edge of this sofa and never have to think about such a burdensome thing again.

"The- the flowers...?" he whispered, asking, his voice hushing at the end as if he was afraid it was the wrong thing to say. The flowers... the avoiding, the longing, the desperation. The kiss. The kiss on his forehead. The hand on his cheek; the feelings that made it all go away. He needed...

Slowly, very carefully, he nodded, his throat objecting to the action with all its might as it formed a thick, tight knot in his neck. It was almost indiscernible, but when it came to him, everything was. And God damn it if Akito couldn't pick up on it.

Because then why would he have shifted closer to Toya's shriveled being, the coolness of their shirts pressing together, bringing his chest into contact with Toya's back... Why would he have moved his firm, strong arms over Toya's, interlacing his hands with the back of Toya's, bringing them away from his eyes...

Why would he have rested his face on his scrunched up shoulder, and pressed a sweet kiss to the rose of his cheek?

Why? Well that was a stupid question. Because he loved him. And they loved each other. And it was for that same reason, Toya came loose, sliding down, resting his head on his partner's chest, letting him hold the back of his hands above his shoulders, where he couldn't hurt himself with them, closing his eyes and shifting his face to the side, letting Akito coat his cheeks with his tender lips. He turned his head again, catching his lips. He knew it was greedy, but this was Akito , his partner, his lover. He was allowed to be a little greedy when it came to his affection. His partner encouraged it.

They sat there, pressed against each other, relishing in every second of sweet, soft bliss. This, this was what they had missed so badly all these past days, longing for each other, reaching for each other, through all their struggles and doubts, they reached each other through the tangle, unraveling each other by the threads, coming undone in each others arms and then sewing themselves back together, just as they had done before, just as they promised to do a thousand times again, as many as their partner needed.

It was in that longing they relished, in that relief they sighed, pulling apart by the millimetre, only for Akito to move the hand closest to him to come angle Toya's face closer to him, his other hand letting go to hold his shoulder firmly, his thumb coming to press in the junction right under his shoulder blade, begging him to stay there as he came in again, kissing a little harder this time. Right, of course , he thought through the relief, eyes closing, hands coming up to rest on Akito's arms; whilst he had been moping around in his misery, his partner had been left devoid of his lover, with no way of confirming what was bothering him and being rejected every time he tried to ask. He squeezed on his arm, a not so patient reminder that he was there, that he wasn't going to run away. He responded by kissing harder.

However, the position had gotten a little uncomfortable for him. The top half of his body was turned towards Akito, the hand on his shoulder only pulling him further towards him while his legs faced the opposite direction. He squirmed out of the hold a little, much to his body's displeasure. And Akito, his wonderful, loving partner, immediately let go. He looked at him, scared that he had done something wrong. Toya only repositioned himself so that his whole body was facing Akito and then pressed their foreheads together.

"Toya..." he sighed.

"...Yes?" he breathed.

Akito brought his head down, resting next to his neck. His hands came up, holding his shoulders and rubbing up and down his arms. They both sighed at the contact.

"Did... Did I do something?" He muffled the last part into Toya's neck.

"No," - he brought up his hands, resting them softly in Akito's hair, nuzzling his cheek into the strands - "You didn't do anything."

"Then why..."

"I wanted something... that I was too afraid of asking you." He turned his head, burying his nose as well into the sea of orange. "I didn't think you'd feel comfortable." At that, Akito sighed into his skin.

"Was it this?" He kissed his neck.

"Yes, and more."

"More?"

"I wanted you to hold me more, and... and kiss me more and just..." he whittled off. Akito silently waited for him to continue, the rubbing up and down his arms becoming more gentle. "I wanted more..." he tried again, "...touch." He stopped petting his head, burying his face into the soft hair. He couldn't believe he just said that, he felt so ashamed. And yet, with that shame, also came a heap of relief, like tossing a heavy sandbag off an air balloon. Akito felt him still, moving his arms away from his shoulders and wrapping them around his body, holding him closer and moving the two of them down until the back of Toya's head was resting against the smooth armrest. He moved up from his neck, gently kissing the side strands of his hair. More touch... but that wasn't all, he knew that, and it seemed his partner had caught on too.

"What was stopping you?" Toya went quiet. This was the part he didn't want to explain, the worst of it all- what made him. He struggled. Akito saw this and only moved Toya's hair away from his forehead, making room to land a kiss there. He spoke, into the spot that had been craving his affection since yesterday. "It's okay," - he kissed again - "you don't have to explain if you don't want to."

"No, I do." He owed this to him. Akito lay his body on top of his, head nested back on his shoulder, lips resting against it, waiting. Where did he find a partner like him? So patient... so warm... He promised he'd never take his love at face value ever again. He dropped his own head onto his shoulder, breathing. "I began to think of all the ways I wanted to be held, but whenever… I pictured it... happening..." He gulped. This was hard. Uh... um... what was he supposed to say from here... But then Akito supplied a string of kisses against his shoulder reminding him that he was here, that they were safe. He swallowed, trying again. "I thought of it-" he wrapped his arms around his back, pushing himself further into his shoulder. He breathed again. "I thought of it... as you."

Akito lifted up over him again, looking down at him. Toya's breath got caught in his throat. Realistically, he knew Akito wouldn't think bad about him but that single moment was enough for all his doubts to come rushing back.

Then, Akito pulled his body up, pressing them together and flopping them down onto their sides, jostling himself and Toya in the process, laughing. Toya parted the hair that landed in front of his face, startled and confused, looking at his partner only to be met with the most stupid, happiest, relieved face he had ever seen him wear.

"Toya-!" He said through bubbles of dissipating giggles. He looked at his partner, and upon seeing him still a little confused he pulled him closer, jostling them again to place a sloppy kiss on his head. Toya began to laugh at the action too, his expression asking what happened. He rested his head on Toya's, nuzzling into it with all the excitement of a newborn puppy. "Oh, Toya," he sighed, "I was worried you were going to say the opposite."

"You-you thought I was talking about someone else?" He nodded into his forehead.

"I thought you lost feelings," - he kissed into his hair - "I thought that was why you didn't want to be around me."

"No-" He couldn't imagine... although, now that he looked back on it... "No, it was only because I couldn't look at you without... thinking of..." He kissed his hair one more time before finally calming down. He caught his breath, speaking again, soft as ever.

"What was it?" He whispered, his smile becoming content.

"I... think you saw it," he looked away in shame.

Akito freed one of his hands from around him, coming to trace the pattern. From his shoulder... over his collarbone... "...This?" Toya nodded. On his sternum... then... Akito moved them, so he was over Toya again... and then down his body. But it wasn't enough, and he worried he had expected too much of him but then he felt his hands grip the bottom of his shirt. He looked down. Akito looked up at him. "Can I?" he whispered, the desperation seeping out his teeth. Toya nodded immediately, his nerves jeering at finally being set free as Akito carefully lifted his shirt over him, the cold air hitting his skin. He lifted up his arms, letting him peel it all the way off, leaving his body bare to Akito. He moved to hold the bottom of Akito's shirt, looking up at him. Akito was hesitant but- God he had missed Toya so much. It only took a moment's hesitation before he nodded, bending down so Toya could pull the fabric over his head. And then...

...What then?

They had... never gone this far before. They kissed and cuddled as much as they liked but they had never gone beyond... uh...

Their eyes traced over each other's bodies, immediately latching to the newly discovered skin. It wasn't... They were just... It was human nature, to be drawn to something you had never seen before. In this case, for Akito, it was Toya's pale, lean skin. From his waist, to his just barely visible ribs, to the rise of his chest, like soft bread rising in an oven with every visible breath. And for Toya, it was the fine definition of Akito's body, the contrasting softness of his tummy, the outline of his arms, carefully constructed, all the way up to...

Their eyes met, catching each other in the act. They blushed, faces seeming more red now that the dark shades of their shirts weren't there to wash it out. They glanced around each other's face, but never let their eyes stray too far as to completely obscure them from their periphery. Every second they prolonged like that, bodies heating up from embarrassment, they became more shy around each other, unsure what to do, but never letting each other go. It was an unfair stalemate they had reached and they breathed in the cold air that separated them. Their bodies wouldn't move beyond where they were and yet there was a magnet in both of their chests, steadily thudding and sliding down to their centre of mass, attracting them towards each other. With each moment spent still, it took more and more effort not to cave in, to let the slabs of metal in their skin snap together, holding them in place against each other, just like the universe intended.

It was simple science: for each action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. For every finger Toya brought up to hold his cheek, there was another of Akito's, raking down his ribs. For every massage of his hand through Akito's hair, there was one of his, firmly holding his side, pressing his thumb down on his sternum, rubbing deep circles into the cut of his bone. For every breath Toya tried to regain, Akito came down to steal it away again.

His other hand came to mimic the previous one, holding Toya's side, thumb pressed to his sternum. Then, without releasing any of the force, he slid them down his partner's body, fingers massaging the sides of his back whilst his thumb opened him down the middle, splitting him in half. He rubbed his hands down Akito's neck, moving in tandem with him, until his partner got to his waist and he had to stop.

The magnets clicked, and they were flush against each other. Akito's hands moved to come hold the back of Toya's head, angling his head up, lips coming to the sensitive skin of his neck. Toya moved his arms down, looping them around his upper back, pulling him closer. Akito sucked softly at the skin, capturing the soft flesh in his lips and only sucking enough so it stretched with his mouth, never enough to leave a mark. He could never... not to his precious partner, at least, not when they were melting into each other like this. Toya's breath hitched, before he realised how gently his skin was being played with. He relaxed back into the sofa, into Akito's hands, letting him do as he liked with the skin. Akito felt the steady rise and fall of his chest, telling him it was okay, so he kept going... down his neck... until...

He reached the bottom, planting a long, deep kiss at the base, keeping his ear close to his body, listening as he felt Toya hold his breath at the action, only releasing it once his lips left. He brought his hands away from under Toya's head slowly, letting it softly plop back onto the arm rest and coming to wrap them around his arms instead, working his way from his shoulder, pressing around each point. Toya brought his arms down, making it easier for him to reach all of it, almost regretting it as Akito pulled up again, looking down at him, nervous. Toya stayed where he was, unmoving, a silent confirmation to him, to tell him to go on. Hesitantly, he took off Toya's hands, holding it from the back, and brought it to his lips, kissing tenderly into the soft flesh of his palm. He looked at him, trying to confirm again. Toya melted further into the back rest, only bringing up his other hand for Akito to do the same, this time he tried the front and the back, taking his time, taking in the beauty that was Toya. Toya preened under the attention. Akito's chest fluttered at the feeling that he could make his partner feel this loved. Toya moved his head up, offering his forehead again. Akito took it, arms encircling Toya's neck, protecting and supporting it as he landed against the arm rest again, leaving a rush of kisses against his forehead, pulling away for a quick breath, and then rushing in again. Toya giggled from under him. That only gave him a boost in his confidence, moving his finger and thumb to gently hold his earlobe, shifting across his face to whisper, "I missed you," into his ear. He then took his helix between his lips, sucking on it softly the way he had with his neck.

Toya relished under the hold. Hours upon hours, days of cravings finally washing off him, the crawling of his nerves simmering to a stop under every inch of skin his partner touched. Oh, it felt so... so...

"I missed you too." Akito let go, moving back over him, looking at him with the most awestruck eyes he had ever seen, like Toya was some angel who had just given him permission to touch him - which, he had. He giggled. His partner brought his head down, nosing into his bangs, kissing his forehead once again. He breathed into the strands,

"I love you, you know that right?"

"...Yes. I know, Akito." They looked at each other, stupid expressions of happiness adorning their faces. "I love you too."

At that, they sunk down. They shifted, laying on their sides. Toya slid into Akito's arms, who immediately buried his face into his hair. He shook his face in it rapidly, making his beloved partner giggle as he tucked himself into his side, legs tangling together.

Then, Toya lazily kissed his shoulder. Then, Akito held him close. And then, they fell asleep, on the soft leather sofa, closer, closer, and always enough for each other. Because they were partners, and it was in their nature to reach for one another. Because they were partners, so they relished in one another, breathed in one another. And that was all they needed.

Because they loved each other. That was why.