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A voice reverberates in the large room, echoing against the bare walls and filling the space with a sense of dramatic flair.
Sakuya stands in the center, practicing his lines for an impending role. Though he takes considerable pride in his skills and has honed them over time, there are still moments when he struggles to fully connect with the character he’s portraying.
“To be the character…” he reminds himself, adjusting his stance ever so slightly.
“Andrew! Please listen to me! There's no going back once you venture that path.” Sakuya projects his voice into the vast emptiness of the rehearsal room, savoring the way the sound waves dance back into his ears. He purses his lips, a deeper concentration taking over him, his eyes darting to the paper in his hand that holds his lines, desperate to nail the emotional delivery.
He furrows his brow. “Maybe I need to be more aggressive?” he murmurs to himself, dropping to the floor to sit cross-legged, pondering this approach. “Ah, but I’m not sure Walton is that kind of character…” he says to himself, feeling a tinge of frustration creeping in.
Just then, the heavy doors of the rehearsal room creak open, interrupting his thoughts. The familiar face of Banri appears, peeking through the narrow gap with an expression that mixes curiosity and amusement.
“Hey,” he says, casually munching on a granola bar, his demeanor instantly lifting the atmosphere. “I thought I heard you in here—you’ve been repeating that one line like crazy.”
Sakuya’s face lights up upon Banri’s arrival, a bright smile breaking across his features, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. “Hi! Yeah, it’s a bit embarrassing, but I just can’t seem to act it out the way I imagine…”
Banri strides into the room, tossing his bag onto the floor with a relaxed grace. He finishes chewing his granola bar, stuffing the empty wrapper into one of his bag pockets with a casual flick of his wrist, making a mental note to dispose of it later.
“Didn’t know your troupe was putting on a new play so soon,” he remarks, flashing a wide grin as he leans back, balancing on his hands. “What are you stuck on? Maybe I can help.”
“Really? That would be great!” Sakuya exclaims, relief flooding through him. He’s always grateful when someone is willing to help him improve.
Banri motions for Sakuya to share the script, and Sakuya eagerly hands it over, watching intently as the other studies the pages.
Banri hums thoughtfully, the sound echoing softly in the space around them, and suddenly rises to his feet, extending a hand to help Sakuya up in turn.
“Alright, I’ll act out Andrew for a bit, while you can recite your lines as Walton. That way, I can give you some feedback.”
Sakuya nods in agreement, excitement bubbling within him. He clears his throat, preparing himself for this spontaneous mini-joint rehearsal.
As Banri bursts into character as Andrew, his voice resonates with a commanding depth. Sakuya watches, captivated by the vivid emotion behind Banri’s delivery—it truly sends a thrill down his spine.
“Walton, if I do not take this chance, then there may never be another!” Banri’s raw emotion pulsates in the room, and Sakuya can’t help but feel the impact of the moment; acting is indeed a beautiful thing.
It’s Sakuya’s turn now, his voice joining the robust energy of Banri’s. “I don’t understand… You’d give it all up just for this? Andrew—”
“Don’t give me that! I’m taking this chance and you will not stop me!” Banri counters, his voice a powerful crescendo, layering anger and determination in a flawless performance that moves through the air.
Feeling the weight of the scene, Sakuya draws upon the frustration and desperation within him, launching into his next line. “Andrew! Please listen to me! There’s no going back once you venture that path!!”
They pause, the echoes of their voices hanging in the air as Banri silently processes Sakuya’s delivery, reflecting on the passion he just witnessed.
“Mmm, with that line—,” he begins, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration. “Instead of portraying it through a loud tone of anger, why not try a more quiet, pleading tone?” Banri tilts his head slightly, assessing Sakuya’s expression.
“Alright!” Sakuya responds eagerly, a spark of determination igniting within him. He clears his throat again, ready to absorb the newfound direction. “Let’s practice that again!”
They dive into the scene once more, this time weaving Banri’s advice into Sakuya’s performance. With each line, Sakuya feels an increasing sense of confidence, shedding his prior doubts and embracing the vulnerability of Walton.
“Andrew, please listen to me…” he articulates, pouring his heart into the word ‘please,’ layered with an aching desperation. “There’s no going back once you venture that path…”
Banri’s face lights up with a broad grin, his eyes sparkling with genuine delight as he drapes an arm around Sakuya’s shoulders. “That was great, holy shit!”
Sakuya chuckles softly, glancing up at Banri over his shoulder, warmth blooming in his chest at the praise. “Thank you, Banri-kun,” he says, his smile sweet and grateful, mirroring Banri’s pride. “Shall we move on to the next scene?” he asks, curious anticipation coloring his tone as he awaits Banri’s response.
Banri’s heart momentarily skips a beat, but he doesn't notice it. He raises the script, waving it playfully in the air. “Next scene,” he responds, still with a grin on his face.
The two of them are still very close to each other, Banri's arm still around Sakuya—Banri can practically hear Sakuya breathing. It still doesn't occur to the brunette that his heart is rapidly speeding up as if it would burst out of his chest at any moment now. He thinks it may just be the adrenaline of getting so into their impromptu rehearsal.
When Banri doesn't speak for a bit, Sakuya touches the arm draped around him to pull the man out of his trance. “Banri-kun? Are you okay??” he asks out of genuine concern, hoping for a response.
Banri sputters, flinching a bit, and steps out of his trance. “Yeah— Yeah, sorry, Sakuya,” as if everything else suddenly slowed down except his heart, he looked off to the side in embarrassment, wondering what the hell was wrong with him.
“Next scene, right,” Banri momentarily reminds himself. “Do you wanna be Andrew for a bit? So maybe you can get a feel for Walton some other way.”
“Sure!” Sakuya responds enthusiastically.
“Where did Andrew go?... I need to find him fast,” Banri says, urgency lacing his voice as he steps into the character of Walton. His heart races, reflecting the desperation of the moment.
Walton paces frantically back and forth, his mind racing through every possible location where Andrew could have retreated. He remembers the hidden corners and cozy spots that Andrew cherished—the little refuge where he would often escape from the world. That memory intertwines with Walton's determination, and he decides it’s worth a shot.
“Andrew! Are you here?” Banri calls out, his voice echoing slightly in the vast space.
Sakuya, now embodying Andrew, snaps back with an emotional intensity. “Leave me alone! Just go away, Walton!” The hurt and fury in his tone pierce through the air, demonstrating the complexity of Andrew’s feelings.
‘Holy shit,’ Banri thinks, a mix of admiration and surprise washing over him as Sakuya perfectly captures the essence of Andrew’s character. The way he delivers the line is raw and powerful; it’s as if the character truly breathes through him.
Banri feels a surge of emotion as he desperately pleads, “Please, I’m sorry… If you’re truly so keen on doing this then let me join you.” His voice trembles slightly, hoping to convey the depth of his feelings.
Sakuya takes a moment to collect himself, breathing deeply. “Why do you care!? You berated me earlier for all of it! Go away if you won’t take me seriously—” His words come out sharp, filled with the hurt of betrayal.
“Because you’re the person dearest to me, Andrew!” Banri exclaims, the weight of those words hanging in the air.
He realizes, to his dismay, that the delivery fell a bit flat, lacking the emotional gravity he intended. “Shit,” he mutters to himself quietly, frustration creeping in. “Sorry, do you mind if I try that line again?” he asks Sakuya, hoping for a chance to improve.
“Not at all!” Sakuya responds, his voice warm and encouraging, bringing a sense of relief to Banri.
Banri clears his throat, his heart pounding as he prepares to attempt the line once more. He wants to infuse real emotion into it, wanting to reflect the love and urgency that Walton is feeling.
“Because you’re the person dearest to me, Andrew!” he tries again, but it remains lacking, not quite hitting the mark.
Frustration bubbles within him, and in a moment of distraction, he crumbles a small piece of Sakuya’s script in his hand. Sakuya notices the tense energy radiating off Banri and approaches him, his expression softening with concern.
“Banri-kun, it’s okay. We can move on if you’d like…?” he suggests gently, sensing Banri’s struggle.
Banri shakes his head vigorously, feeling a mix of embarrassment and determination. “Sorry, Sakuya. I’m not even in this play, and I’m still getting worked up…” He lets out a heavy sigh, ruffling his hair in frustration, a gesture of helplessness.
“May I try that line real quick?” Sakuya asks, his voice filled with genuine kindness.
For a moment, Banri is taken aback—wondering why Sakuya would want to take the line himself. Then it dawns on him that Sakuya is, after all, embodying Walton in this performance. This is Sakuya's role—a play performed by the Spring Troupe, not Autumn.
“Yeah, go ahead,” he replies quickly, trying not to overthink as a rush of anticipation floods through him.
The room falls silent for just a moment, the air thick with tension. Banri watches intently as Sakuya takes a few seconds to prepare himself, the focus evident on his face, contrasting beautifully with the echoing emptiness of the rehearsal room.
“Because! You’re the person dearest to me, Andrew!!” Sakuya delivers, his voice ringing out with a passionate clarity that fills the space around them.
Banri’s heart soars at the perfect execution of the line; Sakuya captures every ounce of emotion he hoped for. It was as if the very soul of Walton had emerged through Sakuya’s performance. He can hardly believe how stunningly Sakuya conveyed the rawness of that moment.
Staring in awe, Banri likely looks utterly ridiculous—his mouth slightly agape, eyes wide, eyebrows raised in astonishment—as he watches Sakuya, feeling like a random bird captivated by the sweetness of a songbird’s chirp. His heartbeat quickens once again, pounding in his chest.
“Was that good?” Sakuya asks, tilting his head in hopeful expectation.
Banri, caught off guard by an overwhelming surge of admiration, finds himself instinctively wrapping his arms around Sakuya in a spontaneous hug.
The softness of Banri's shoulder meets Sakuya gently, and after a moment of confusion, Sakuya reciprocates the embrace, a grin spreading across his face as he buries his head into the other's warmth.
In that fleeting moment, the struggles and frustrations Banri previously had melted away.
Sakuya pulls back a little, Banri shortly following his actions just after. He smiles at him so warmly, as if the heavens descended upon earth and granted him an angel's halo with how beautiful he looked—Banri could hardly grasp actual comprehension of what he was thinking.
“I've got a pretty good grasp on Walton's character now thanks to you,” Sakuya tells him, and it feels like Banri’s the only other person in the world aside from the man in front of him—it's just them. “Thank you, Banri-kun!”
“Y‐yeah— No problem… good luck with your play.” his hands feel clammy, and it's as if a cat's got his tongue, preventing him from saying any more in the vicinity of this angel.
Sakuya goes to pick up his script that fell out of Banri's hands earlier when he impulsively hugged him.
Banri truly is so out of it right now—Sakuya said a couple more things before he left the rehearsal room—it went through one ear and out the other… he only truly caught the last part of what Sakuya said.
He was much too into just admiring him.
“I hope you'll come see the play—I'd love to have you there.” that was the last thing Sakuya said to him before leaving, as well as the only thing Banri heard at that moment.
A week later, the Spring Troupe performs their original play.
Banri does go to see it.
Not because he's wanted to see Sakuya all week since the last time they interacted, definitely not.
It's a huge success, receiving lots of positive praise from critics and the general audience—Spring Troupe's genius scriptwriter did it again.
Once it concludes and the troupe ends with their concluding bows, Banri instantly rushes backstage.
“Sakuya!” he calls out, as he passes and weaves through staff and crew members.
Sakuya turns his head, hearing Banri call his name. He turns back to his troupe, exchanging a look with them before walking towards the Autumn Troupe leader.
“Hey,” Banri greets him, forgetting what he was going to say in the first place instantly. “Uh— You were great up there… Glad you took my advice into play.” he scratches the back of his head awkwardly.
Pink lightly dusts Sakuya’s face, it's barely noticeable with the dim lighting of the backstage area but just enough for Banri to take notice.
“Thank you!” a genuine grin spreads across Sakuya’s face and Banri thinks it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
“Yeah, of course—if you ever wanna, ya'know… practice together again, I'm down.” he goes for it, straight up asking Sakuya; better now with all these unknown, foreign jitters than never.
Sakuya’s response catches him off guard completely.
A hand comes up to cup the side of his face, he leans down a bit, ever so close to Sakuya again. Sakuya leans in closer and presses a feather-light kiss to his cheek, making all the butterflies in Banri's body go haywire.
Banri probably looks stupid again, but he couldn't care less right now.
“I'd love to!” Sakuya tells him.
It's music to his ears.
Love.