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"Well-to-do. Probably in her fifties…? Oh, um… her bag looks designer, I think," Bakuno Reki says over his mug of coffee.
Tenma flicks his gaze over to the woman Bakuno points out, expression brightening. "Definitely designer! That looks like real leather."
Bakuno doesn't bother to ask how Tenma knows. It feels like the sort of thing Tenma would know, in Bakuno's slowly-filling-out profile about him. It isn't like him to take notes on people he knows; he worries it might come across as creepy, or strange, or off-putting. But he found himself writing Tenma's name at the top of a page of his notebook that day after Tenma had run off while exuberently praising him for his help, a scribbled and unassuming Tenma Tsukasa-san.
It's a new experience to write a mix of facts he knows to be true, and things he's imagining are true based on Tenma as a person.
Even now, he thinks, Tenma-san knows textile materials and works in theater. Perhaps he knows how to sew? Or has an interest in costuming?
He doesn't get the chance to ask, but if Bakuno is honest with himself, he knows he probably wouldn't have anyway. Tenma is a very friendly person, but asking someone personal questions like that is a little nerve-wracking.
He looks up from his mug, and notes Tenma is talking. "Then perhaps she's an executive at a company! She's taking a break by picking up her coffee here before she returns."
Bakuno tilts his head to one side, considering, trying not to stare at her too obviously. "Why would she pick up coffee at a little place like this, if she's that wealthy?"
His tone isn't disbelieving; Tenma has yet to not have an answer when he pitches questions like these. Sure enough, Tenma grins at him, a hint of smugness at the edges of his expression. "Perhaps she has a crush on a barista here!"
Oh, romance. That's a different angle than they usually take; Bakuno feels the spark of interest set in immediately. He leans in, forgets to stammer or be nervous. "She came in one day to this coffee shop because her regular shop nearer to her workplace was closed for construction."
Tenma leans in too, grin bright, almost blindingly so. "Their eyes met over the coffee cup, her name written on it with a heart beside it, and she kept coming back to try to see the same barista again."
"But she had no way of knowing that the barista was just covering someone else's shift that day," Bakuno says, gaining steam. "She's been trying to find them ever since—"
"—hence why she's coming into the coffee shop at such an odd hour!"
Tenma nods to himself in satisfaction as the backstory comes together, and Bakuno leans back slowly in his chair, realizing just how far he was leaning forward. Before Tenma called him over to assist with his work on Nakayama, Bakuno never even considered the idea of coming up with these backstories with someone else. Of course he didn't; the only reason he picked up this hobby—or habit, perhaps—in the first place was because he didn't have anyone to talk to.
It's… surprisingly fun, though.
Just like how being around Tenma is surprisingly fun. Or maybe, Bakuno thinks, looking at Tenma's easy smile, it isn't surprising at all.
"Ah… the name being written on the cup with a heart was a nice detail, Tenma-san," Bakuno says, fiddling with his sleeve. "I didn't… really take you for a romantic."
The way Tenma laughs is loud and boisterous, drawing the attention of a few of the other coffee shop patrons, including the woman who they were just discussing. Bakuno shrinks down in his chair, squirming a little from the attention. Tenma, amazingly, doesn't even seem to notice the stares at all.
"Of course! A future star has to be well-versed in romantic storylines as well!"
Well, that much is true. Shunmeiza has put on more than their fair share of romances. Bakuno has never played the lead in any of them, despite being asked more than once. Even growing more bold at the thought of becoming that leading star, he's not sure he could ever play a love interest. Could Tenma?
Bakuno looks at his undaunted smile and thinks, of course he could. He doesn't seem like the sort to be afraid of anything, after all.
But a moment later, Tenma's gaze flicks back over towards the counter, and he presses a hand to his forehead with a regretful sigh.
"Unfortunately, I do have bad news for our storyline."
Bakuno tilts his head, eyebrow arched. "Oh?"
"Now that I've gotten a better look, it seems our protagonist has a wedding ring."
Bakuno blinks. "Oh."
And then, before he even knows what he's doing, Bakuno finds himself laughing, shaking his head—and doesn't even notice the way gazes flick to them again when Tenma joins in.
—
When Bakuno met Tenma, he didn't ever think they'd speak again after that first collaboration.
It's a joy to have them there; they're all incredibly talented and even more motivated to that, and they bring a breath of fresh air to even the most veteran of actors Shunmeiza.
But he figures that after that, that's the end of it. Bakuno will go back to being alone, if a bit bolder and braver than before, inspired by someone who seems to draw everyone's eyes every time he walks into a room.
So it's a surprise when Tenma is the one who reaches out. It shouldn't be, Bakuno realizes after. Isn't he just that sort of person? The sort of person Bakuno can't be, no matter how hard he tries.
He accepts the invitation eagerly anyway, and tells himself that maybe he'll be the one to reach out next time. … Or the time after that. It depends on how brave he's feeling.
Regardless, Tenma waves at him eagerly when he arrives at the shopping mall, and Bakuno migrates his way over to the same bench to join him, cautiously skirting around groups of shoppers. He settles himself on the bench equally cautiously, and is greeted by Tenma launching into an enthusiastic explanation immediately.
"Bakuno-san! Thank you for joining me on this fine day! I was here to pick up a few things on my sister's request, when I realized this is an excellent place for people watching!"
Well, that much is true. Bakuno has spent plenty of days here, scribbling idly in his notebooks.
"And so, when I thought of spending some time coming up with backstories and the like, I thought it would be much more fun to invite you to join me!"
Bakuno nods, but uncomprehendingly. Tenma inviting him out just because he thought it would be more fun that way is a mysteriously extroverted thing to do; Bakuno almost forgets to adjust his mental notes about him (he has a sister?) in his surprise. Tenma inviting him here also means that he was thinking of him, randomly, just like that.
Bakuno feels less like a side character and, suddenly, more like a deuteragonist. It's a little overwhelming.
But Tenma is still smiling at him, patiently waiting for him to say something, and so Bakuno clears his throat and looks out at the people around them, searching for someone to make something up about. He doesn't know how else to respond, after all.
"Um… that mom over there, with her toddler… what do you think…?"
Tenma blinks at him, but only for a moment before he follows Bakuno's gaze properly to observe the mother in question. She's alone with her toddler, scooping him out of the way of other shoppers as she gently and lovingly scolds him. The child just giggles in response, and continues to try to cause a general ruckus.
Bakuno's heart sinks. In his haste to change the subject, he picked the sort of person he tries to avoid making up stories about.
Tenma's nose is scrunched up a little as he thinks, though there's a fond smile on his face as he watches the child's antics. Bakuno latches onto that as a lifeline, his escape from thinking about his parents, and how they never were around to so lovingly play with him just like that.
Tenma considers the little family, and Bakuno considers Tenma.
That fond smile—maybe he's considering his little sister? Bakuno doesn't know anything about her, but it feels like a sort of familial fondness. But then, that feels right, when he considers the backstory he might create for Tenma here and now. A loving family—loving parents, a loving little sister, a present family and house of warmth, which is exactly where that same warm smile is coming from.
It makes perfect sense. As character work, it's flawless. True, Tenma was perfectly emphathetic when Bakuno confided in him about his own struggles with his loneliness as a child, but one can be empathetic while still having everything Bakuno wishes he could've had.
Slowly, Tenma speaks. "I think… they're waiting for the child's father. He… stepped into a store to pick up a few things for their child's birthday. It has to stay a secret, though, so that's why he's gone alone. When they get home, they'll have that surprise party, all of them present together."
Bakuno blinks.
Tenma tends towards the dramatic when it comes to his imaginatory work. (Bakuno will never forget the time he decided, without any lead in whatsoever, that the teenager they were contemplating was a shapeshifter who lived in the sewers.) It makes sense from what he knows of Tenma; working previously as a stage actor at an amusement park surely must require big, sweeping stories and exciting twists to keep the children entertained and smiling.
But this…
… If Bakuno tells himself it's a boring and mundane storyline, maybe he can ignore the way it makes his heart ache just a little bit to imagine.
Ah, he's projecting. That does tend to be a problem for him; this is exactly why he tries to avoid subjects like this.
"Um… I'm afraid I don't really know where to go from there," Bakuno admits, rubbing the back of his neck. Tenma blinks, then worries at his bottom lip with his teeth for a moment. It's a surprising gesture from him. Bakuno would attribute that nervous tic to someone feeling perceived. But it feels wrong to do so when it's Tenma.
"True! That was rather mundane," Tenma says, good-natured in response to criticism as ever. "Then would you start us off instead?"
Bakuno considers that, and considers the mother. She's laughing now as she bends down to adjust her child's shirt, all askew from his running around. From the nearby store, a man appears, and joins the family, sweeping the child up into his arms. The squeal of delight in response rings across the entire lobby of the mall.
Idyllic, he thinks.
"Actually, ah… it seems like you were completely right," he says.
Tenma doesn't respond immediately, and when Bakuno turns his head to look at him, he's struck by his expression—pleased, and warm, and content, and… wistful?
Bakuno is an actor who thrives on microexpressions and subtle depictions of emotions. He isn't in the habit of questioning feelings that he sees in other's expressions, because he's usually right.
He's questioning it now, though.
"Tenma-san?"
Tenma blinks, seemingly coming back to himself suddenly, and clears his throat. "Well! I truly am glad to see it, even if it wasn't a very good piece of improv."
Bakuno's lips twitch into a faint smile at that. "Yes, there wasn't really anything to build off of there…"
The family, errands completed, makes their way towards the entrance, and Tenma's eyes follow them.
"It's just," Tenma says, almost contemplative, "it's what I wanted to be true for them."
Oh.
Bakuno has crafted backstories before solely because he wanted them to be true, especially for characters in the books he was reading. Backstories where they noticed him, where they were his friends. He doesn't think he's ever made up a backstory for someone simply because he wanted it to be true for them, though. But then, this is fiction. It doesn't matter what stories he makes up; their real lives won't change.
But the way Tenma's brows draw together is fiercely focused.
It isn't unusual, Bakuno tells himself, to want to see a happy family at the mall. But even so, this feels like something more than that. It's only recently that Bakuno has started to care about the motivations of the lead protagonist, but he feels that urge now—deep curiosity, and perhaps a hint of concern.
(And he needs to stop thinking of Tenma that way, Bakuno knows, but even though he was playing such a minor role in that play alongside him, it feels like Tenma's sights are always set on being the one at the forefront. In the end, he can't help but classify him as a main protagonist.)
The only way to know is to ask.
Bakuno weaves stories in an attempt to avoid having to do just that, but Tenma would ask—did ask, back when they'd been getting to know each other. If Bakuno is going to take on more lead roles himself, he needs to carry that energy in his own life sometimes too.
"Is… everything okay, Tenma-san?"
Bakuno watches him blink as if he's not entirely there, and his voice still seems distant when he responds, "Oh, yes! Of course I am!"
An immediate shut down. Bakuno supposes he should have expected that; he has no real reason to think Tenma isn't, especially given the profile he's built for him in the back of his brain, and on that page of his notebook.
But then Tenma meets his eyes, and asks steadily, "Why do you ask?"
Bakuno arches both eyebrows. It's a better yes, and than his previous prompt. It feels like an implicit agreement to play this scene out with him. It's harder to play Bakuno Reki in conversation than any of the other roles he dons, but for this, he'll try.
"The way you sounded when you were talking about that family…" A beat. He wrinkles his nose and tried again. "I mean, the prompt you gave, and everything after… it felt different from usual."
In response, Tenma straightens his posture, shoulders drawing back. In that movement, Bakuno sees… well, an actor. It's so obvious that it almost feels comical. He does the same when slipping into a role that carries themself different from how he does—which is basically every role. But they aren't acting here, are they? Or, rather, Bakuno is portraying Bakuno, and Tenma is portraying…
Tenma's expression eases, goes sheepish, brows losing their tight furrow. "Sorry, I didn't mean to worry you! It isn't anything serious. I was just thinking about family."
"About family?"
"Right!" Tenma straightens more eagerly and naturally then. "When I saw that family, I thought it was wondeful how they were all together like that!"
"Well, yes…" Bakuno responds, tilting his head to one side. "But why?"
He's aware it's a strange question the moment it leaves his lips. One doesn't need a reason to be glad that a family at the mall is together and happy. In fact, it's probably more natural to feel that way than any other.
But Tenma noticed it for a reason. It meant something to him.
It meant something to Bakuno too, and for a moment, he wonders if he's projecting again, or maybe he's seeing familiarity.
A moment later, Tenma says, "Did you know I have a little sister?"
Bakuno did know that. He doesn't bother saying it, because it was an off-handed comment before, and he thinks people might find it weird to know he tries to catalogue all of those sorts of things just in case. Tenma is pretty strange himself, but even he might think it crosses some lines.
"She's incredible!" Tenma continues, beaming. Bakuno's never seen him light up like this, not even when he finally understood his role, not even when they were laughing together over ridiculous backstories and adlibbed lines. "She plays in a band with her friends and composes their music! And she's been learning to cook more of our mom's recipes, and she studies incredibly hard for school, even if she occasionally forgets to do her homework."
The enthusiasm makes Bakuno smile a little. He's pretty sure it would be impossible not to.
And Tenma is still smiling, if a little more quietly, when he continues, "She was often very sick as a child. She would have long hospital stays, and any time she caught anything, she would have to immediately go see a doctor. For awhile, she had to stay at a hospital that was pretty far away."
A sigh. There's the weight of words unsaid in the exhalation, but Tenma simply continues, "There were a lot of times when I wished we could be just like that family. Go shopping together, or eat dinner together…"
Bakuno thinks of empty chairs at the dining room table, of shopping lists that devolved into his parents shouting at each other, and grimaces.
"And so!" Tenma continues, louder again, grinning again. "I couldn't help but hope that that family did not have to experience that sort of loneliness! Hence my lackluster prompt earlier."
Bakuno looks at him, and thinks—of too many dining room chairs, of the quiet of an empty house, of standing on tiptoes as a child to lock the door, knowing he would be the only one home that night. His brain shuffles the image. Instead of a young Bakuno, it's Tenma instead, sitting alone at that table, wondering when his little sister will be home.
He's going to have to tear out Tenma's page in his notebook and start over entirely. He had the backstory all wrong.
"Thank you for telling me," Bakuno says, and means it. Tenma grins at him, leans over to nudge shoulders briefly, and then nods towards a group of teens huddled around a gachapon machine.
"What about them? You start this time, Bakuno-san!"
Bakuno thinks—he and Tenma are as different as could possibly be, but they share a backstory that almost perfectly overlaps. He thinks of how much he wants to bring life to the too-often-ignored side characters, and how Tenma seems to be ever-striving to stand most in the spotlight. And for a moment, he tries imagining himself there front and center, taking that final bow.
"I think…" Bakuno starts slowly, even though his brain has already come up with five different options. Of the five, he decides to go with the silliest option. "They are desperately attempting to complete a set of Nekohi in order to bribe the bullies that stop them every day outside of their school. They're only missing the hidden coffee cat now."
Yes, going with the silly option was the right choice, Bakuno thinks as Tenma's entire expression brightens, a wide grin spreading across his face. He has no idea where this is going to lead, but isn't that the fun of it?
—
Bakuno is on his way home when he finds his feet diverting him towards the Shunmeiza studio.
Part of him wants to go directly home and adjust his notes on Tenma in that notebook of his; he truly can't abide by such a shallow reading of someone else now that he knows a little bit more.
But the rest of him knows this is more important.
He walks into the studio with an ease he doesn't really have anywhere else—even more so than home—and peers around curiously. Well, if nobody else is here, then he'll just have to try again later, even though he'd really like to—
"Bakuno?"
"Oh! Director!" Auspicious, Bakuno can't help but think. There isn't any practice today. That means their director just happens to be here on other business.
He looks at Bakuno with fond patience as he asks, "Did you forget something again?"
And honestly, Bakuno has caused his director so much trouble with his insistence on only playing certain roles, with his obsessiveness over small details, with his idiosyncrasies. It makes him feel oddly shy to realize how much trouble has been gone to on his behalf.
He clears his throat and tries to straighten his shoulders a little. "Um, actually… I wanted to talk to you about something. It's… about that offer. Director Ohara's—the film's titled A Flower Grows In The Shade, I think."
There's a surprised, sharp intake of breath. Bakuno's lips twitch ruefully. He supposes this is a little surprising after all. But even so, he thinks—of Tenma's easy smile, of his hard work for a character with only three lines, of his love for the spotlight. And the thought comes surprisingly easily. He can do this too.
"If it's still open, I'd like to accept his offer."