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Chapter Text

The final note of the song left Zenitsu's lips, the lyric an echo in his room. He allowed for the resounding tone to fade, and only then did he finally stop the recording on his phone. He took off his headphones, a cheap but heartfelt gift his brother had given the blonde before Kaigaku had left for college. Zenitsu allowed his thumb to caress over the faded, fake branded logo on the side before he set it down next to him.

As per usual, the 19 year old blonde had been left alone to his own devices inside his room, his myriad of merchandise and other paraphernalia littered about, some tacked to the walls and others strewn about messily. Truth be told, everything about Zenitsu was a cluttered mess; from his room, to his anxious personality, to his half baked plans in life.

However, as he pulled his laptop closer and started fiddling about with his music editing software, it was clear that there was only one thing he felt sure about--music.

In his small town, he was known as little else but Jigoro's youngest, Kaigaku's younger brother; you know, the dumb brother, or as Jigoro had so protectively defended, 'the aspirational one!'. But Zenitsu knew that it was only his adoptive father's reasoning as to why he had opted out of college, instead having settled into a life of bland but safe assuredness in town. He hadn't followed his brother off to university in the big city, and had instead told Jigoro with a queasy smile that of course he didn't mind staying in town and living there forever! He was happy to just be by the old man's side, probably lucky enough to at least get a job as a grocer. It wasn't as if he actually wanted to go to college anyhow; just the thought of meeting strangers, doing something as scary as dive into something new made his stomach turn, made his heart do cowardly flips in his chest.

Aspirational? That required actually having faith in yourself, didn't it?

And the only thing that Zenitsu had barely any faith in was his musicality. A somewhat decent voice, even if a bit raspy, helped the blonde get through more than a few despondent days, even if it was something as simple as singing along to his favorite idol's newest hit. He hadn't really thought of it as anything special; not as if it was anything to write home about. But Jigoro had liked his voice well enough at least. Even Kaigaku, ever the critic, had admitted that Zenitsu's voice was more than great, and that he really ought to do something with it. Kaigaku's belief in him was even the main reason why he had downloaded a cracked version of a music editing program, why Kaigaku had insisted on splurging his saved up allowance for a few 'necessities' for Zenitsu's hobby; cheap earphones, a second hand guitar, and even a brand new phone (New! Not a hand me down!) with a great microphone installed.

And for a little while, Zenitsu believed in his family's compliments, had allowed himself to be flattered by their praises. Even a few wayward neighbors had admitted that Zenitsu's singing was a fun gimmick at parties, where he was usually called to sing for their children's birthdays. (As embarassing as it was, at least he was able to earn a few extra money from it)

Maybe that was why he indulged in his own frivolities, why he allowed his pride to win over as he opened a YouTube account a few months ago. He had thought, stupidly mind you, that 'Hey, if my town likes my singing, why not strangers?'

And it was stupid, for his boastful attitude was quickly humbled as his first few uploads had barely broken through 100 views, with the highest count that he had ever earned was a heartbreaking 221 views; his lowest a depressing 37. He had currently just finished splicing together his latest cover, a rendition of a famous song that he absolutely loved, and already he could feel the clammy nervousness that always bundled in his hands. The sweat on his palms, the nervous gulps in his throat, the telltale shakiness of his fingers as he typed in the video description...

For someone with such delusional hope of his singing being at least noticed, he sure was insecure about the entire ordeal.

But again, the low view count of his videos was both a blessing and a curse, he reasoned. As he finally clicked on the dreaded 'upload' button, he couldn't help but let out a shaky breath, a wry smile on his lips as he leaned back on his desk chair. With so few eyes on him, as he was more than sure that at least half of the view count on his videos came from his brother, he was at least assured that he was just screaming--singing into a void, where his clumsy voice was sure to fall on half-interested ears.

So, at least it wasn't as if anyone would have actually noticed him. And that was just how he liked it; he thinks. He'd rather not think about his lonely existence, with only his family close to him save for a single friend in town. Granted, it was more as if him and Murata were stuck together, having grown up together right next door to each other, but the two were strange enough as is with their loud antics, so both decided this friendship was more than just a frivolity.

And finally did he allow himself a smile, seeing that his newest video had finished uploading. A simple cover of one of his favorite star's songs, an older ballad that the idol had made back when he was new to the industry. Zenitsu had a crush on the handsome star, with more than a few posters littered about his bedroom walls. Having supposedly written his own songs and produced them himself, it was little wonder why someone as famous as Tengen Uzui was Zenitsu's number one favorite celebrity. With so many song covers floating about on the internet, Zenitsu was sure that he was just to be another name lost to the world wide web, his cover to be buried under so many more famous renditions. It wasn't as if anyone would have actually found his silly video anyways.

...Right?

Chapter Text

Ping!

Just a few more minutes...

Ping!

Ping!

Zenitsu grumbled and turned over in his bed, away from the incessant buzz of his phone.

Ping!

Pi-

"UGH, hang on..." Zenitsu grumbled, finally lifting his head from his soft pillow, his blonde hair a barely tangled mess. He squinted against the peeking morning light from his window, the curtains pulled back enough to let warm rays of light hit his face. No doubt Jigoro having entered earlier in a bemused attempt to wake his youngest, only to have given up halfway and let Zenitsu sleep in. With bleary eyes, he patted around the side of his bed, finally finding his phone. It was still buzzing in his hand, an incessant string of notifications, and a barely coherent panic started to settle over his sleepy head.

He turned it on and ignored the sting of the bright screen, and instead tried to make out the small text.

Zenitsu was the clingy one, the one that pestered his family and what little friends he had for any semblance of attention and affection. So, as soon as he saw 12 notifications from his brother, with half of those being missed calls, he then immediately knew that something was very wrong.

Now woken up from a starting worry, he quickly tapped the messaging app and was barely able to make out Kaigaku's texts to him, each one more confusing than the last.

YOU LITTLE SHIT

I'M SO PROUD OF YOU

PICK UP THE PHONE ZEN

IT KEEPS GOING UP AHAHAHA

Quickly pressing the 'call' button, Zenitsu was already trying to sit up in his bed, his hands feeling clammy. Kaigaku picked up on the first ring, and the ecstatic, laughing voice that he gave Zenitsu only made the blonde all the more anxious. Kaigaku was never happy, and yet here he was, with an amused pride in his voice greeting Zenitsu first thing in the morning.

Zenitsu couldn't even get a sound out before Kaigaku was barking out praises-- and of course mixed in with his usual reprimands. "About time you fucking picked up, you stupid little prodigy! What, just cause you think you're some sort of hot shot now, you can--"

"ANIKI, aniki, w-what happened?! Are you ok?" Zenitsu managed to squeak out, before another bout of laughter erupted from the phone's speakers.

"Of fucking course you don't know! You just woke up," Zenitsu could just imagine his brother shaking his head, exasperation and humor on his face. Kaigaku was in college, all the way in the big city, so the idea of his usually gloomy brother smiling at least eased some of Zenitsu's nerves.

But when Kaigaku excitedly told him to, "Open your YouTube account!" All at once that momentary relief plummeted.

With with the phone clutched tightly in his hand, Zenitsu quickly scrabbled out of bed and rushed to his desk, where his second hand laptop was serenely closed. It used to belong to Kaigaku, a simultaneous gift for Zenitsu as Kaigaku bought himself a new one for university; Kaigaku had reasoned he spoiled Zenitsu enough, so the hand me down was warranted. And Zenitsu had loved the laptop, but as he quickly turned it on and logged into his account, he had to resist the urge to throw it against the wall.

But as he finally caught sight of what his brother was talking about, he couldn't help the terrified shriek that escaped him.

Sneering back at him was his latest upload, a simple cover of one of his favorite songs. It was just a low production of him singing into his microphone, the effort being mostly put into splicing the audio together. He hadn't even bothered with fine tuning his voice, raw vocals recorded in a single take.

So why the hell did it have 8,763,119 views overnight?!

Zenitsu was still shrieking as he quickly fumbled the phone in his hands, desperately grabbing at it and bringing it to his ear. " What the hell did you do?!" He cried out, his tone somehow accusatory to his brother.

Kaigaku had the gall to laugh; any other day would have had Kaigaku offended and seething at the pointed tone. But today he was laughing. 

"I didn't do shit!" Kaigaku snickered, none the wiser to his brother's dismay-- or blatantly ignoring it, maybe. "Look at Twitter!"

"T-twitter--" Zenitsu's hands quickly flew across the keyboard, clicking on his multitude of tabs and finally logging into his own account. He just had a small, silly, personal account; where again, he usually cried out to the 47 followers he had accumulated--

12,109.

How the hell did he have 12,109 followers?!

Zenitsu's breathing was panicked, shallow and icy air leaving his lungs. He quickly checked the trending tags, and thankfully his name wasn't among the key words flashed at him.

But a certain idol's name was.

He felt his blood run cold as he quickly clicked on the name 'Uzui Tengen', and he was brought to the curated page where the star's name was tweeted again and again and again.

hello??!?! uzui posting on his PUBLIC account??!?!!

omg uzui supports smaller artists love that for him <3

RELEASE THE REMIX UZUI

Zenitsu ignored all of those tweets, instead his shaking hand moving to the 'People' tab, where the singer's official account greeted him, blue check mark and all. It was the man's usual account, Zenitsu following the singer himself and already well acquainted with the profile; 7.2 million followers, 48 following, a handsome face as his profile picture, a logo of his company as his banner--

Everything was as it should be, but when Zenitsu scrolled down then he saw the horrible post that stared this whole mess.

A simple tweet, a link to the blonde's cover, and a single yellow heart.

Zenitsu's hearing was sacred to him, all sounds in his ears a melody of its own. Even in the quiet, he found a solace in the subtle music he always heard.

But now.

Now, his head was nothing but an empty, panicked ringing that had his breaths come in sporadic bursts. There was no noise, nothing, nothing to hear but too many eyes on him that had him near sobbing, choking on strangers' gazes.

They were all looking at him, judging him-- their smiles and gazes were for Uzui's attention, not his. Never his; they couldn't have liked him, not really. Support only came so paper thin and he couldn't help the way his stomach seized, feeling queasy and sick and scared.

His hand quickly flitted over to the mousepad and he desperately started to click away at the settings. Only now did the ring just start to subside, and slowly did his brother's voice came through the speaker of his still clenched phone.

"...itsu? Zenitsu, you still there?" His tone had shifted from the proud brother to that of concern, his emotions having always been conflicting when it came to the blonde.

Zenitsu nodded, then remembered that his brother was right, in university. Zenitsu was alone, his adoptive father none the wiser downstairs to his turmoil and anxiety.

Quickly bringing his phone back to his ear, Zenitsu swallowed thickly and tried to keep the tremble from his voice. "Y-yeah, I'm still--hang on, let me just--"

Deactivate Account.

Kaigaku let out a relieved sigh, finding at least some comfort in his brother's response. "Good, that's...good, yeah. Hey, do you need me to--hey, what the hell did you do!?"

Zenitsu winced at the sudden outcry, but he couldn't keep his own ease from returning as he finally felt some eyes disappear, fading away from his mind and from his own gaze.

He then heard Kaigaku incessantly call his name again, and only then did he finally find the strength to answer. "I'm getting rid of everything." Zenitsu declared, moving his tab to delete his YouTube account. His beloved account, an accumulation of his passion--

And now he needed to get rid of it.

A small comfort he found was that he had thankfully already saved each of his videos, so it was still safe, he could still look back to what he had; what he has.

"Zenitsu, don't--" Too late did Kaigaku's call came, falling on deaf ears as Zenitsu quickly tapped,

Delete Account?

Confirm.

And finally, finally as his screen returned him to his YouTibe's homepage did Zenitsu finally relax. All at once, his insecurities started to fade away, now saved inside his own worried mind. He ignored Kaigaku's groans of frustration and exasperation, and allowed himself to breath properly, finally feeling his cold lungs warm again as he leaned back in his chair.

Those worries were for him and him alone; this was nothing but a mistake that he thankfully saved himself from.

A clicked tongue, and a refreshed screen.

Account Does Not Exist.

"Dammit, don't tell me that he..."

Another refresh.

Account Does Not Exist.

The silver haired man groaned, annoyance clear on his sharp features. He leaned back in his office chair, the room filled with accolades and album covers.

"That little brat...!" He grumbled, running a manicured hand over his face in exasperation. It was embarrassing; the best voice he's heard in a while only to suddenly disappear off the face of the planet--

He then blinked, then a small smirk crept on his face.

Hm, maybe not.

It was rare for him to recognize talent; no, he recognized skill, an innate flashinenss that had to be trained.

This blonde kid? He had both.

With a new determination, he quickly typed in the name that was attached to the YouTube account into his Twitter search bar.

_ChuntaroChunChun_

...Dammit, nothing. Save for a few tweets that others had made, at least; the only testament to the kid's name.

He bit back a frown and tried again; this time on Instagram.

...Perfect.

Same profile picture of a sparrow, same person. It had to be--too bad it was a private account, shit.

But thankfully, it was the profile description that was his saving grace.

zen! 

i love my sparrow sm || @kaigakuinadump is stupid

The singer clicked at the tagged account and to his delight, it was public. A collection of pictures greeted him, and he scrolled down to try and find something, anything. A dark haired, dour looking man greeted him, not who he was looking for-- but finally, a picture of a blonde, that same flashy blonde, posing with him had Tengen grinning.

"Found you."

Chapter Text

It only took a total of two days for Zenitsu to fade back into obscurity. 

He had deleted his YouTube account and there was barely any fanfare for it. Save for a couple of confused tweets and posts he was quickly forgotten and, to his delight, back to a quiet hum of normality.

He sighed in relief as he finally closed his laptop. He had quickly taken to making a new Twitter account, and locking that one for privacy's sake. He had even checked on Tengen's account and the quote repost was swiftly deleted; good riddance on that end!

Zenitsu loved the idol, his cool persona and handsome build enough for him to swoon over on the daily (Just ask his old poster of Tengen he ripped out from an old magazine, a testament to the blonde's crush), but it was really the man's music that kept Zenitsu hooked.

The 26 year old musician was a clear case of practically being born for stardom. Silver hair and magenta eyes that captivated anyone, his early foray into the music industry at 17 was only overshadowed by his brief but no less impressive stints as a model for a fashion brand. And acting, and dancing--hell, the man even owned a premium sake company! Zenitsu's crush on the man ever since he was a young teen was most definitely warranted, in Zenitsu's humble opinion. Any attention from the idol would have made Zenitsu go crazy,

But it was everyone else's attention that made him queasy.

While Tengen seemed made for the stars, Zenitsu was the exact opposite; pride so shot down that even his insecurities had insecurities. He was both too much and too little, his overbearingness and general clinginess a clear detriment; proof enough was his lack of friends, save for his family and one lone companion in their small town.

No use in worrying about that now, I suppose. Zenitsu sighed as he gave one last glance at his poster of Tengen, the idol caught midsong with handsome smirk on his face, a microphone in his hand. Zenitsu appreciated the attention--but it was definitely not wanted.

After another forlorn bout of staring at his poster, the blonde finally made his way out of his bedroom to join his father downstairs. Jigoro was none the wiser to Zenitsu's old plight, Kaigaku the only one to really know the extent of how bad it had gotten. The old man had just hobbled out of the kitchen, making his way to the couch and about to watch one of his older shows.

Zenitsu pouted by the stairs and leaned against the railing. "Graaamps, I'm hungry! Can I order us some snacks?" He requested, dramatically whining out as he rocked on the balls of his feet.

Jigoro let out a 'hmph' as he settled down, careful of his knees as he sat on the couch. As old and rickety as he was, the couch was a constant companion for the old man; almost as constant as his youngest's clinginess. "There are cookies on the table, eat those instead."

Zenitsu made a face and pressed his hand against his stomach. "But I was thinking we could have some noodles! It can even be for dinner! Pleeeease?" He whined, finally clasping his hands together and sniffing.

After a moment, Jigoro merely shook his head and sighed. "I spoil you too much..." He muttered under his beard, resignation and fondness clear in his sound.

Enough of an approval as any, Zenitsu let out a happy cheer and quickly ran to Jigoro, bending down and hugging his father. "Thank youuu!" Zenitsu smiled, both of them knowing full well that Zenitsu's affectionate nature was always used to a dangerous degree. 

Zenitsu drew back to his full height, already fishing out his phone from his pocket and opening the food delivery application. "Don't worry! I'm going to order those savory noodles that you like, ooh! And maybe even some pork cut--"

Knock knock knock.

Zenitsu's excited babbling was cut short as the two's attention was quickly drawn to the knocking on their front door. After a moment, Jigoro hummed thoughtfully and rubbed his chin, clearly impressed. "Hm, fast delivery." He mused, chuckling and giving the blonde a knowing gaze. Seemed as if Zenitsu was hungrier than he thought.

However, Zenitsu's brows only furrowed, meeting Jigoro's stare with one of confusion. "I...didn't order anything yet." He mumbled, feeling a pinprick of suspicion needle at him. Nonetheless, he already started to move towards the door, if a bit with caution. "Was aniki planning to send us anything?" He called back to Jigoro.

However, as he neared the door, he didn't hear Jigoro's answer, his eyes widening as even from beyond the wooden frame, he could hear a loud, booming, excited sound. Akin to a firework, a symphony all on it's own. It would have been enough to deter Zenitsu, to call for his father in a panicked state...it should have been enough. And yet, he could only hold his breath as he felt drawn to the sound and opened the door, letting in the melody that was both parts overwhelming but magnetic, something Zenitsu needed to see, hear up close.

Tall.

Handsome.

Flashy.

Silver hair tied into a short ponytail, a tight fitted shirt worn across a muscled chest. Looked as if he was sculpted by a renaissance artist, only to come to life and deem himself better than all. A cocky expression and sharp eyes were enough to drive people mad--with delirious want or genuine anger, who's to say. Worst of all, an all too familiar smile was on a charming face, staring down at Zenitsu.

After all, Zenitsu saw that smile everyday; the memory of the poster hanging above his head flew in his mind.

"Excuse me," A deep voice, enough to melt every bone in Zenitsu's body. One that Zenitsu had memorized, his favorite songs on a constant replay. "Are you...Zenitsu?" Then, a lowered chuckle, as Tengen Uzui, the Tengen Uzui shook his head. 

"Sorry, I mean...ChuntaroChunChun?"

SLAM.

Zenitsu was heaving, his back now pressed flat against the door. His heart was racing, each beat rattling against the bones of his ribcage, threatening to burst through his chest. Panicked tears sprang to his eyes, his vision fading white at the edges as he tried to ground himself. "G-G-GRAMPS--" He choked out, his voice a high strung, hoarse call.

"Zenitsu? Boy, what's taking you so long?" Unaware of his youngest's plight, the old man's voice was only that of  mild concern.

"W-we--" Zenitsu swallowed down the spit and bile in his throat, before finally letting out an aggravated shriek- squeak, with how pitchy his voice was was. "We need to m-m-move!"

"Huh?" Jigoro finally peeked his head out of the living room, now squinting at his youngest who remained by the genkan. At Jigoro's confusion, Zenitsu nodded his head fiercely, all the more assured of his decision.

"Y-yes!" It made perfect sense in his head; the only way to avoid all this together is to disappear off the face of the earth! Completely! He would have liked to bury himself in a hole in the ground that led straight to hell, but a panicked, compliant side of him decided that this was the next best thing. "M-move! Let's move right-right now! Hurry! I'll get my things, and-and--"

Another simple knock on the door had Zenitsu visibly jump and audibly shriek. He launched himself off the door, coiling back in horror as if it burned him. He clasped at his own face, making sure he was actually real, that this wasn't some horrific dream; or nightmare.

Jigoro quickly hobbled out further, now standing by Zenitsu's side as they both stared at the genkan. "What happened? Is a bully of yours there?" Jigoro harrumphed, now incensed at the thought of one of those older village brats having come all the way to their house just to pester Zenitsu. Sure, his youngest was erratic and loud, but he was the kindest child you'd have ever met! Why, he ought to give those bullies a piece of his mind--

"G-Gramps, don't--!"

Which is exactly why Jigoro, with Zenitsu so distracted, made his way to the door and threw it open.

...Hm, he didn't recognize this man from the town.

But, no matter! Leaning on his cane with one hand, he wagged the finger of his free one angrily at the surprised, albeit slightly amused, behemoth in front of him. "Now you listen to me, you cheeky little brat!" He started, his face already turning red and fuming. Behind him, he paid no heed to his mortified child, the blonde's panic now replaced with a pale faced embarassment. "I won't have you lot bullying my son! He's a kind young boy, and if you all can't see that--"

"Easy, easy sir!" The stranger chuckled, holding his hands up placatingly. His voice was cool, no sense of shame or guilt in his tone. In fact, he looked happy; finding the entire spectacle funny in it's own strange way. Sure, he was pissed when the door was slammed right in his face (and after all the trouble he went through to find this kid!) but it only lasted for a brief second as the blonde's voice was loud and clear, obviously panicked.

But then again, who wouldn't be surprised if Tengen had visited them?

The silver haired star was aware of his status. He reveled in it, for so long--too long. The glamour of his life became repetitive, boring. He was made for the limelight, but when you're under the shine for so long, it feels more akin to a sterile, fluorescent bulb. Tengen had wanted to break free of that routine for so long now, trying to find something close to excitement.

And as he finally met the gaze of the blonde that had haunted his thoughts, the one whose voice had admittedly enchanted him when he stumbled on that cover of his own song, the one who had so boldly slammed the door in his face--

Well, color him intrigued.

He cleared his throat, taking his eyes off the flustered blonde and now addressing the old man in front of him. But his voice was clear, loud enough for both of them to understand and charming enough to keep them captivated. (And in Zenitsu's case, scared)

"I'm Tengen Uzui, and I'm not here to bully Zenitsu," already so comfortable, so assured of himself that Tengen couldn't keep himself from grinning. "In fact, I would actually like to...discuss a few things with him. And with you, if you'd like." He quickly added the second part, Jigoro's anger now turning to suspicion. And a definitive curiousness.

But Tengen could only focus on Zenitsu, and the way his own flush of panic deepened, now a blush of embarassment. Flustered and hopeful--similar to the melody that Tengen's sensitive ears could pick up.

"Now...may I come in?"

Chapter Text

When Tengen had first appeared in front of his house, he had deemed it as his own personal hell; anxiety spiking and panicked, labored breaths filling his chest. Like some kind of panicked vermin, his chest heaved as he had tried to control his breathing, using one of the many techniques Jigoro had taught him, should he ever fall into a hysterical state.

But then Tengen had entered, and Zenitsu decided--there was apparently something worse than hell.

What else could explain the frustrated mortification as he watched Tengen Uzui, famed idol-producer-model-dancer-god, poke and prod around his failure of a room. The blonde was silent, his lips pulled into a thin line as he tried to keep his shaking arms crossed over his chest, a misguided attempt to keep himself from trembling any further. However, it was hard, especially when Tengen had walked over to his makeshift workspace on his desk,

And tsked.

"What?" Zenitsu suddenly bawked, growing equal parts upset and defensive over the sharpness of the older man's sound. Zenitsu hadn't even gotten a chance to feel starstruck, instead stuck in a protective limbo. For his room, for his set up, for his privacy--how the hell did Tengen even get this far, anyways?!

...Well, it was really Zenitsu's fault, now that he looked back on it.

Tengen didn't just enter the house, he sauntered. Long, toned legs hidden underneath silken pants as he looked around, an amused kind of judgement on his face. The house was big, a traditional Japanese mansion that Jigoro had practically built from the ground up. The old man had kept his finances guarded, able to easily adapt his businesses to continuously provide; from a swordstraining school in his youth, to a sustainable peach orchard. They weren't wealthy, but it was obvious that their family was secure enough.

And even then, all Tengen could think was, 'How quaint.'

Tengen rolled his shoulders, not missing the way the blonde, Zenitsu, bristled at his nonchalant attitude. The kid looked equal parts terrified and in awe, but above all else curious. Curious as to why a superstar such as Tengen would even breathe near him, much less wonder why the older man was actually here.

But truth be told, Tengen reasoned that the blonde brought this upon himself.

'After all,' Tengen then pulled his most charming, suave smile, and shot it towards the stern-as-ever but still equally as protective Jigoro. 'Everybody wants an audience.' Human nature, and all.

"It's nice to meet you, sir." Tengen started, clasping his hands together in a bid of cordiality. "I'm Tengen Uzui..." He paused, allowing the name to hang in the air for a few moments. As expected, Zenitsu's breath hitched, the sound so sharp but soft that Tengen had almost missed it. But a panicked, flashy melody was more than enough of a telltale sign of the blonde's heart beating harshly.

Jigoro meanwhile looked unimpressed, merely lifting a bushy eyebrow. Well, Tengen couldn't really be upset with that one; older generations and all. He then continued, finally opening his hands and sweeping them slightly in front of him. "I'm a singer, and I'm a...big fan of your son."

"M-me?" Zenitsu squeaked, an unsteady finger pointing at himself. Even then, he kept his eyes trained on Tengen, and for a brief second their gazes met, and all at once Zenitsu tucked his head down, too scared and flustered to even dare meet fucshia eyes again.

However, Jigoro managed to ground him, albeit not directly. "Zenitsu? He's not a singer, what are you talking about?" Jigoro harrumphed, then continued even as Zenitsu tried to not so discreetly shush him. The elder lifted his cane high, waving it slightly as he focused his balance between his wooden peg and his remaining leg. "Why, the brat won't even sing for my shogi matches--"

"G-gramps!" Zenitsu whimpered, his clammy hands quickly grabbing Jigoro's bony arm. "I-I can explain--"

"Please, allow me." Tengen said coolly, his large hands easily making a placating motion. Zenitsu shot the star a pleading look, for Tengen to slow down, to beg for a chance to catch up, but Tengen could hear it; the intrigue in Jigoro's rhythm, no matter how skeptical. It was there, and the first thing you learn in the music industry?

You always have to monopolize.

"Your son here is a wonderful singer," Tengen started, using one of his hands to gesture to Zenitsu. Zenitsu's face dropped, alarm clear in his eyes as he quickly shook his head. However, Tengen only doubled down, easily bringing out his phone. "And I'm not the only fan of his." Even with a deleted account, screenshots circulated around the internet for a reason. Screenshots, saved videos; there was no such joy as a tangible digital trail. As Tengen scrolled through his phone, he could hear Zenitsu try to sputter out any kind of explanation, a chance to downplay his work. Jigoro didn't look mad though, didn't even sound like it--so what was Zenitsu so panicked about?

Finally did Tengen find what he was looking for (Thank you, Makio), and with an inviting grin offered the phone to Jigoro. He had to lightly lean down, the older man already short enough as is, even without considering his own large stature. Jigoro spared Tengen one last skeptical glance before accepting the phone, already a video being played on screen. Despite his own worries and panics, Zenitsu couldn't help but lean over Jigoro's shoulder to watch.

After all, people loved to watch a trainwreck, didn't they? And this was the closest thing he got.

Clear as day there was Zenitsu, with his hand me down devices and soft, sweet smile. It wasn't the best copy of the video, but instead a screen recording of when his cover had just reached seven million views overnight, the numbers climbing up on screen even as the video itself played.. He was singing a ballad; romantic but smooth, the blonde's own voice complementing the instrumentals. The camera itself wasn't the sharpest, but it was all in the microphone, keeping the sound as sharp and accurate as it could and each note a perfection that most musicians could only write about.

Jigoro silently pressed the 'pause' button, halting the video midsong. Zenitsu's senses immediately went on high alert, frazzled and trying to keep himself from sobbing from the trouble he had caused. Overlaying his own frazzled sound, he hadn't noticed the soft rumble coming from Jigoro, instead trying to keep his words stumbling over each other. "I-it's just a small hobby! I didn't-didn't think that anyone w-would have seen it gramps, honest! I-I don't even think that's me, it might just be a--"

"Hush up, boy." Jigoro...chuckled? The old man finally turned to face his youngest, and the corners of his eyes were wrinkled but endeared, pride in his expression--and in his sound, now that Zenitsu could feel a unsteady wave of relief slowly wash over him. Jigoro spared another glance at the phone in his hand, the high view count a testament to his child's talent. "I always knew that you had it in you--you always were talented, never letting up until you perfected whatever you put your mind to." Then, with a fond shake of his head, "Music always had been what you did best."

Zenitsu had already been misty eyed from his panic, but as Jigoro's words sunk in he would have bawled right then and there--until he heard Tengen's confident, deep voice chime in. "I couldn't agree more." He smiled, his eyes sharp and almost...teasing.

Zenitsu's softened heart was instead replaced by a cloudy doubt, even as he squinted at Tengen suspiciously. Only then, did he finally meet Tengen's fuchsia eyes; and he could have sworn a spark of cunning laid in them.

"Are you done?" Zenitsu mumbled, watching with wary eyes as Tengen continued to inspect his room. After the little meeting earlier (If you could call it that), Tengen had so, so charmingly asked if he could speak with Zenitsu, to see his set up. The blonde wanted to say no, he did! But he could already feel his head nod up and down wordlessly, moving before his mind could catch up. Jigoro, the supposedly fiercely protective Jigoro, had merely laughed and sent the two up, calling after them and saying he was to prepare a snack. Of course, using those silly cookies that he was so attached to.

Tengen paused in his observations, looking over his shoulder and having the gall to snort in amusement. "You know, when I saw your video, I was hoping your place wouldn't be this...sad." Zenitsu's eyes widened at the calloused, carefree words Tengen paid him; and at the expense of his room, no less! Ignoring Zenitsu's gawking stare, Tengen then tilted his head to the side, gesturing to the poster of himself that Zenitsu still had hung up. "But, at least you have taste. There's hope for you yet."

Even as his arms remained crossed over his chest, his hands clenched in annoyance at how--how easily Tengen looked down at his room! A-and his privacy! Who even asked this guy to come here and judge his manga collection and wallpaper and house and everything! Trying to keep his voice from cracking, Zenitsu huffed. "What are you even doing here, if you just came to diss on my stuff?!"

Tengen didn't answer directly, instead moving back over to Zenitsu's desk, where his laptop and equipment were still strewn about. The idol sat down on the old swivel chair, leaning back comfortably like he owned it. The swivel chair was already rather large, enough for Zenitsu to curl up and nap in it comfortably. And yet even then, Tengen was massive, the chair just about being too short for him to lean his head back, instead only able to provide rest for his shoulders. But even then, he looked perfect, similar to those ridiculous male leads that Zenitsu found himself squealing at time and time again in his romance novels.

Zenitsu had to remind himself to ignore how stupidly handsome Tengen was.

So frustrated and annoyed and struck, Zenitsu almost missed how Tengen's deep chuckle filled the air. "I'm not one to just let talent slip through my fingers. Real talent."

Zenitsu blinked, suddenly feeling his throat go dry at the...compliment? Felt more like some kind of death sentence. "T-talent?"

"Perfect pitch, am I right?" Tengen asked, then seemingly confirmed it himself as he gave a dismissive wave. "Beyond perfect, from what I can tell." Like attracts like, doesn't it? He's one to recognize it, after all. His own trained ears a mix of a blessing and of insistent training from his youth.

Zenitsu didn't answer, he didn't need to. Tengen was right, and he knew it. He leaned back in the swivel chair, creaking slightly from the shift of weight but otherwise fine; Tengen's body was honed and as close to perfect as it could be. Tengen was as close to perfect as he could be.

And yet, he think he had just about found the next best thing.

"Now, dont get me wrong, perfect pitch isnt all it takes." Tengen snickered, again his gaze leaving Zenitsu's wary form to glance about the room, time and again his eyes landing on the poster of himself. "I mean, people all over this country...It's teeming with people who'd blow your mind. Desperate for a chance to have the stage, to have natural talent...talent like yours"

Zenitsu visibly flinched at that, the notion of being talented. Of being anything worth more than a little worthwhile; he was fine where he was, he didn't need praise. Not like this, not from him. "There must be s-some mistake," The blonde's voice was barely a mumble, and he resisted the urge to fiddle with his hands, a trait he had already thought he lost. "I just...made those covers for-for myself, honest! I-I didn't think you'd see it--"

"Well," Tengen's interjection was enough to stop Zenitsu midramble, the air turning silent for a brief moment. "I did."

"And, truth be told...I liked what I heard."

And with those words, Tengen stood up from his seat, the swivel chair only creaking for a moment. Tengen took a step closer towards Zenitsu.

Zenitsu took a step back.

It was a natural reaction, one that came so easily. Stepping back, running away, hiding. And he wanted to; wanted to hide under his bedsheets, to throw the blankets over himself and will it all away as he always did.

And yet, as Tengen stepped closer and closer towards him, Zenitsu couldn't help the nervous anticipation in his chest, frozen in place until finally Tengen was standing right in front of him.

Tengen was already tall enough as is, an easy 6 feet tall. But with how close he was to Zenitsu, it was almost fearful, just as much as it was exhilarating. Zenitsu had just about reached his chest, so close to the man's calm, beating heart. A steady rumble in comparison to Zenitsu's frantic heartbeat, a shaky pattern in his chest.

But even then, Zenitsu couldn't help but hear Tengen's own sound, a roar of fireworks and excitement. It betrayed his otherwise assured expression; no, his sound was that of an eager melody that had Zenitsu nervous all the same--but no less enraptured. The man himself was a magnet, charming and forceful in how he moved, how he spoke, how he stood. One of the many reasons as to why Zenitsu even adored the idol, even as his perfect image of Tengen had already shattered. Distantly, Zenitsu could hear a drawn out whistle, similar to ringing in his ears. And even then, Tengen's sound had so easily faded into the air around them, heavy and alluring in equal measure. 

They were sizing each other up, and Zenitsu still wasn't sure if he liked what he saw. Tengen on the other hand had already made up his mind--from the first time he's heard that voice, met the brat, he was confident in his choice.

Then, Tengen lifted one manicured finger between the two of them. The movement enough to snap Zenitsu out of his dazed reverie.

"One year," Tengen stated, his lips curling into a smile, perfectly white and straight teeth that looked as if it was going to snatch Zenitsu up in his jaws. Zenitsu felt a chill down his spine from the comparison--then a burning sensation in his cheeks as Tengen continued.

"Give me one year to turn you into the flashiest star this country has ever seen."

Downstairs, Jigoro was humming, the video of  his youngest and the song he had sung now stuck in his head. The kettle had just about boiled, the lingering steam finally quieting down from the sharp whistle it had released earlier. The cookies were now at the center of the table, and he nodded to himself. Now to make cups of tea--

A sharp slap and the dull clattering of items from upstairs caught Jigoro's attention. Hm, apparently Zenitsu's temperament was more from Kaigaku than he thought.

Chapter Text

Adrenaline and fear is one hell of a combination. Tengen learned that the hard way when a barely 5'5 foot blonde was able to easily push him out of the bedroom.

"GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT--!" Zenitsu chanted, his voice near a panicked scream as he shoved Tengen out of his room, pushing his shoulder against the massive man's back to force him to leave.

Tengen struggled to not stumble over himself, trying to keep his feet steady as he struggled to push back against Zenitsu. "HANG ON, hear me out--!"

"I don't CARE--" Zenitsu squeaked, the idol now finally outside of his room and back into the hallway. He pushed his hands out in front of him, forcing Tengen to march back down the stairs. Zenitsu was taught to never act out in violence, but he was willing to push his favorite star down the stairs if need be--!

This was simply self preservation!

For both of them, as Tengen did his best to carefully resist while also carefully keeping his footing as he was forced downstairs, step by step. The two were screaming, one moreso in retaliation, the other in a manic shriek. "Ease up! Think about the fame, the fortune--"

"I don't want fame and fortune! I want to just stay here forever!"

"What kind of life is that--would you stop pushing me, dammit!?"

Zenitsu was finally successful, Tengen's feet finally reaching the ground of the first floor. Now, to the door! Kick him out! Kick him o--

"Ow!" Zenitsu cried out, feeling the familiar thwack of a wooden cane on his head. He turned and saw Jigoro shoot him a disapproving look, earning a momentary pout from the blonde. "Gramps! What was that for?!"

Jigoro shook his cane at Zenitsu, the rod still high in the air. "Would you stop screaming?! Keep your voice down!" He reprimanded, even as his own voice was near a thunderous boom.

Finally able to take a breath, Tengen snickered at the scene, feeling vindicated for having been so ruthlessly pushed--then yelped as he very nearly got hit as well with the wooden cane, thankfully jumping away in time. "Hey! Don't hit me!"

Jigoro harrumphed, now aiming another swipe at Tengen's legs. He was successful this time, earning a cry of pain from the idol as he rubbed the sore spot. "That's what you get, making my boy so upset." Jigoro huffed, still a doting and protective father above all else and yet ignorant of how Zenitsu stuck his tongue out at Tengen from behind the old man.

Zenitsu quickly pulled his tongue back in his mouth, drawing his lips inward as Jigoro turned back to him, finally letting his cane hit the floor again will a dull clack. "Now, what were the two of you squabbling about in the first place?" He asked, fully expecting the simultaneously attempts to explain each one's respective side.

"He was going to kidnap me and force me to be a singer--"

"All I did was offer him the chance of a lifetime to be an idol--"

Another sharp tap of the cane against the hardboard floor had both musicians (Both aspiring and veteran) to quickly silence themselves, allowing Jigoro the quiet he needed to assess the argument for himself; with years of Kaigaku and Zenitsu's own squabbles under his belt, he'd like to think of himself as somewhat of an expert when it came to settling such fights.

However, to Zenitsu dismay, Jigoro had inclined his head towards Tengen, a bushy eyebrow raised questioningly. "You. Make your case." Jigoro said.

Tengen was just about to embellish his words with thankful praises, but he faltered as soon as he saw Jigoro's unimpressed expression. Right, he was here to reason, not to practice his flattery. Clearing his throat, Tengen took a breath and recalled his most professional tone, the one he used to pitch for one of his many concepts and ideas during meetings.

"Mr. Jigoro, sir, with all due respect; you’re holding onto a goldmine, and you don’t even know it." He started, laying it on thick. Zenitsu crossed his arms and looked away, his thick brows furrowed in unease. Tengen ignored him and continued, his smile dazzling and rehearsed. "Your child, Zenitsu. The kid may not look like much," a disgruntled yelp from the blonde, Tengen not falering in his pitch.

"But he has the only thing a star, a real star needs; he's got a voice that could make angels weep. He’s wasting away here, his talents hidden!"

"Would you stop it with the backhanded compliments?!" Zenitsu snapped, Jigoro humming in agreement to his youngest's words.

Tengen merely kept his grin up, already knowing his next lines. "I'm an idol myself. One that your child adores," Zenitsu's eyes widened at the- the audacity of this man! And to think he used to have a crush on him! The blonde's face was a bright, indignant red; so focused on Tengen's cockiness that he missed how Jigoro's expression turned contemplative at the idol's next words. "’ll train him myself. I'll make sure nothing will happen to him; make him so flamboyantly confident that stage lights will beg to shine on him!"

Jigoro was silent for a moment, his free hand now raised to rub at his chin, deep in thought. "...That boy is jittery enough as it is. He’s got no business being on a stage." He mumbled, more to himself than to Tengen. Zenitsu gawked at his father, surprised that he was even considering this--!

"Stage fright isn’t a weakness, not when you use it right." Tengen said, his voice losing its sharpness and instead sounding more sincere, but Zenitsu could hear the real underlying intent. Persuasion. "It makes performances real--raw emotion sells better than any over-rehearsed act. People love an underdog, a performer who looks like he’s giving everything he has, nerves and all. It’s human. It’s what makes stars shine."

Jigoro paused for a moment, looking--looking torn. Worry on his face, even as Tengen's words had slowly started to settle. "And if he does panic? What if he freezes and can’t recover?" His voice then turned gentle, sighing as he glanced at Zenitsu. "I won't have my youngest attacked or bullied for something like that."

Tengen's smile had returned, now akin to more if a self satisfied smirk as he tapped his own temple. "That’s where I come in. I’m not just throwing him to the wolves; I’ve been through it myself. I know how to take all that fear and flip it into something flamboyant. He’ll have techniques, support, and a stage setup designed to make him feel safe." Then, the kicker. "Trust me--he won’t be standing up there alone."

"Um, hello?!" Zenitsu squeaked, before giving Jigoro a chance to consider, to really consider the offer. "D-don't I get a chance to say anything about this?!" With his answer being such an adamant refusal, he just wanted to say no and get Tengen out of here.

Jigoro exchanged a brief glance with Tengen before he approached Zenitsu, sighing with that all too familiar, fond sound he has. A comforting storm, the thunder like rumble was almost enough to calm Zenitsu down. "Zenitsu, my boy...it's a good opportunity--"

"No! I don’t wanna go!" Zenitsu interjected, shaking his head and his blonde, choppy hair nearly whipping him in the face. "Gramps, d-don’t make me! This--this whole thing-- I know it’s a good opportunity, I know that," he admitted, his heart already breaking bit by bit. "But why does it have to be so far away? Why do I have to leave you?"

Jigoro chuckled, hobbling closer to his youngest and taking Zenitsu's hand in his own, wrinkled but still as steady as it always had been. "Simple. Because you’re meant for more than this quiet little corner of the world." Zenitsu's lower lip wobbled, and his eyes shone like glass; a telltale sign of his panicked waterworks. Jigoro sighed and continued, squeezing Zenitsu's hand and hoping his youngest wouldn't start bawling. "My boy, you’ve got a chance to do something incredible. To grow, to learn, to--"

"To be miserable away from you!" He pouted, earning a bemused huff from the elder.

"Zenitsu, do you really think I’m going to keel over the second you step out of this house?"

"Gramps, it won't just-just be out of this house. It's s-so...so far."

"Zenitsu, listen to me." Jigoro said, his voice kind and still with that strange patience that only parents could have. "You think I can’t handle a little peace and quiet while you go off to make something of yourself?"

Zenitsu hiccuped at that, a small laugh hidden with a sob. "It’s just… weird." He mumbled, his eyes casted downwards for a moment before meeting Jigoro's gaze. "You won’t be there to nag me, or--y’know, yell at me when I screw up." When he screws up; not an if, but an inevitability that Zenitsu was so sure of.

But Jigoro knew Zenitsu. Knew his child, his skill--he knew of his potential, and that any ounce of fear hid away the natural talent the blonde had. Swallowing down his own heavy emotions, Jigoro tried to pull a confident smile. Don’t worry, I’ll write letters. Long ones. Very detailed with berating you," Another squeeze to Zenitsu's hands, shakier but no less full of love. "And how proud I am."

"Gramps..." Zenitsu murmured, his smile bittersweet. A sentimental moment, a hazy but loving goodbye, shared between a father and son.

...And a not so softhearted idol, who cleared his throat.

Zenitsu finally lifted his gaze from Jigoro, a resigned sigh from his lips. He kept his hands in Jigoro's, the comfort of his father's hold grounding him. He gave Tengen the most put off look he could muster--which wasn't a lot honestly, what with his red rimmed, glassy eyes and wobbly pout.

Tengen bit back a snicker and a comment about how they were being dramatic, about how Jigoro could visit whenever he'd like; but, none of that mattered right now.

Now, it seemed as if he got his new talent.

"So..." Tengen trailed off, his grin turning toothy. Sharp, magenta eyes meeting untrusting brown. "We have a deal?"

Zenitsu exchanged one last helpless, hopeful look with his father, who gave another encouraging nod. Zenitsu resisted the urge to grimace before he squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. He pulled one shaky hand away from Jigoro's hold, and held up an unsteady finger.

"One year." Zenitsu finally, finally agreed.

And at the moment? It felt like both the best and worst decision of his life.

Chapter Text

Zenitsu had always wanted to try and lean his head against the window, a melancholic expression on his face as he dreams of wistful tomorrows. Just like in his romance novels, his silly manga, where the protagonst had always been torn between two loves--or something. He had tried a few times before, in Kaigaku's car during their errands back in town, but those dreams had been cut short as Kaigaku pinched him to pay attention and help him navigate. So here he was now, his breath only started to fog up the glass--

"Oi, would you stop sniveling over there? Christ."

...but it was kind of hard to be somber and sorrowful with a large, annoying gnat as a travelling companion.

Zenitsu huffed and pulled his head back from the window pane, ignorant of the imprint his skin left on the glass- and the red mark on his forehead, only barely visibly thanks to his askewed bangs. He glared at Tengen seated across from him, shifting in his seat on the train. "Can't I just have a few minutes to myself?" He grumbled, then with a quieter tone, glanced out the window. The rolling scene of his town had just passed, the view now taken over with the expanse of green fields and soon to be replaced with the telltale highways of the city. "I just wanted to say goodbye--"

"You act as if I just tore you away from your grandfather." Tengen snorted, leaning back on his seat. The train going back to the city was different than the train he had originally left in. When he departed for the small town, the train he rode then was sleek and modern with long, near plasticky seats only on either side and the center open for standing passengers, the bullet train speeding along and reaching the town in a little under 20 minutes.

But the train heading back? It was...rustic, sure. That was a kind way of putting it. Charming and vintage in it's own backwards way, with a hefty promise of heading back to the city with a generous attempt of 45 minutes. Barely packed with enough people, a probably common occurrence judging from the near empty echo of the compartment, save for the white noise of the air. The seats instead came in little rows, facing each other and more akin to a cramped cubicle. Which, of course, allowed Tengen ample time to address Zenitsu. Judge him for what he was worth.

And he had to admit, he seemed to be worth a lot, even if he didn't look like it yet. The longer he looked at the blonde, the more he found himself both amused and bemused. Zenitsu seemed to be like the train itself; charming and backwards, no doubt anxious without a hand to hold. It was silly, it was (regrettably) cute, it was what Tengen hoped was endearing enough to appeal to the masses, when he eventually brought Zenitsu back with him.

Which reminds him, "We've got all your things, haven't we?"

Zenitsu blinked at the question and made a face, the haphazardly packed bags amounting to a sorry pile of luggage hidden away to the respective compartments above them. "Uh, I mean, well, I hope we did. I think that--"

"Ah, doesn't matter anyways," Tengen hummed, already shutting Zenitsu up mid worry. He waved his manicured hand dismissively, already moving on from his own inquiry. "Whatever you're missing we can just buy at the stores back home."

Huh?

"We can even get you the ones from the latest collections- won't that leave an impact, heh."

Huh??

Huh???

"W-whatever I'm-- hey, I don't-- I don't have enough money to suddenly just shell out for a new- n-new everything!" Zenitsu stammered, his ears already turning to a ruddy, indignant red. "I-in fact, I think I forgot way too much! You only gave me a-a day to pack! I don't even think I have my toothbrush--"

"And who the hell says you're paying?" Tengen snorted, again his cocky words silencing Zenitsu. Jabbing a thumb toward himself, Tengen smirked at Zenitsu's baffled expression, finding the near panicked, watery brown eyes amusing and cute; like a cornered mouse. "Look, whatever you want, just let me know and I'll buy it for you, okay?" He offered--no, declared. But his words were too mocking, too teasing to be anything but a sincere proposal.

It had to be, because just as soon as his face had flushed earlier, almost immediately did Zenitsu pale. "Huh? I-I don't...are you serious?" He bawked, his thick brows knitting together.

Tengen shrugged, stretching an arm to lean against the backrest of his seat. "In case you forgot, you," At that, Tengen used his other hand to point at the still dumbfounded Zenitsu. "Are my investment. I need to pamper you and provide you with everything you may ever need." And want. Can't have his new starlet complain about him; he has his own reputation to uphold after all, spoiling people silly.

P-pamper--

Zenitsu flushed at that, but the fierceness of earlier gave way to a sudden, shy embarassment that seemingly came out of nowhere. But as Tengen listened closely, be could hear the telltale melody of Zenitsu's sound ring with a nervousness that had been brimming for a while now. Ever since they left, ever since they met.

Zenitsu finally spoke up again, brown eyes tearing away from Tengen's and instead finding his lap all the more intriguing as he fixed his stare on it. His jeans were hand me downs, pants from his brother and had been worn countless times now. And yet, he suddenly found the denim interesting; or at least, interesting enough to keep him distracted. "You...you don't have to, really. I can, um, just ask Gramps to send me some money." His voice was soft, gentle and still carrying that sweet raspiness that Tengen couldn't help but chuckle at.

Cute. "Don't worry," Tengen then lowered his voice, finally holding just the slightest intonation of sincerity that had Zenitsu's eyes lift to meet his once again. "It's not as if I'm short on cash. And besides, I meant it when I said I was going to take care of you. That nothing was going to happen to you." He promised, the sharpness of his smirk fading to give way to a charming grin.

And--and it was stupid, Zenitsu knows that, b-but in his defense, he did have a crush on the idol ever since before--!

With Zenitsu still falling silent, Tengen continued. "Zenitsu, I want you to know that I don't do this often; in fact, I've never done it. Never taken a gamble on some wayward singer," And Tengen leaned forward, resting his elbows upon his own lap as he regarded Zenitsu carefully. Choppy blonde hair, round features, and a voice that Tengen could only describe as near perfect, only almost there.

"But I think I've finally struck gold with you."

The train didn't stop moving, but Zenitsu could feel as if time just stopped then. And it wasn't the magnetic pink of Tengen's eyes that had Zenitsu blushing, nor the sculpted, handsome visage of Tengen's face; but it was the genuine, truthful sound that seemed to come from Tengen's chest, the rumble of fireworks a steady tune that held no weight of deception.

And maybe Zenitsu's idolized crush on Tengen never really left, anyhow.

It was only after a pause did Zenitsu realize that this was probably his turn to speak. He cleared his throat and tried to find the right words, even as Tengen leaned back to rest properly in his seat. "U-um, right. Thank you...Tengen. I'll-I'll do my, um, best." Zenitsu said softly, that so called near perfect voice shaking and shy.

Tengen chuckled, and the sharpness of his grin had returned just as easily. Like a switch, his front of a teasing, confident idol had returned, and all the more endeared. "Hopefully that cuteness of yours will pay off in the future too. God knows I'm enjoying it." He teased, earning a scoff, a squawk, and a stammering mess of an embarassed, irate blonde.

Okay, Zenitsu's crush on Tengen? Completely gone once again!

He thinks.

...he hopes.

Chapter Text

The doors to the train had just opened, and already everything was so loud.

Zenitsu took in a quick, unsteady breath, as he was met with the chaotic harmony of so many people, so many voices, so many sounds. The car of the train seemed to lurch at each step taken, and already Zenitsu's stomach was doing flips, pushing up bile. He tried to take a step backwards, an automatic response to try and shrink down to something shyer and more manageable, but instead his steps were halted by Tengen behind him, his own melody a steady thrum amidst the chaos. From behind him, he felt Tengen's hand on the small of his back, ushering him forward and past the people that shouldered past them, trying to get a good seat on the train without waiting for the two to disembark. What would have supposedly caused an upset, flushing face instead made him feel all the more queasy.

"C'mon blondie, we haven't got all day." Tengen teased, a snicker clear in his voice. Too amused at Zenitsu's dumbfoundedness at the amount of people, he failed to recognize the genuine fear in the blonde's sound.

Zenitsu's eyes were panicked, shining and flitting about and taking in the sudden sight of just the subway of the big city, larger than life and so full of it.

This was--

He expected people, but--

This was a lot more than he thought.

Just showed his own naivety, didn't it?

The train station itself was a cacophony of voices and heartbeats, and already the sterile light was making him feel ill. They were underground, the hanging lights overhead reflecting back against the polished tiles of the walls, save for the grime of the floor. He wasn't even able to get his bearings, and already he felt little more than a caged pigeon. Eyes gawking at him, even in the smallest of moments as they passed by. 

They had just arrived--

As if finally taking note of Zenitsu's uncharacteristic silence, Tengen leaned down closer towards the blonde, Zenitsu's bags of luggage dragged behind him in his free hand. "Zenitsu?" He asked, his own sensitive ears trying their best to hear how the blonde's melody sounded, even amidst the crowds of people. He was already so used to it, singling out the melodies of those he knew even in the busiest of places. Concerts and press tours came to mind, amidst the bustle of his everyday life.

And here was Zenitsu's sound; like a wound up string, tight and frantic, quick and unsteady breaths coming out unevenly. Chattering in a stunning beat, anxious and panicked--

And fleeing.

"Zenitsu? Oi, Zenitsu!" Tengen called out, a little too late realizing that Zenitsu had found his desperate solace in the stairs that led above ground, and had booked it. Momentary panic on Tengen's face before he gave chase, the shock of yellow hair amidst the crowd his only  It was automatic, Zenitsu ignoring Tengen in favor of getting out, to where there was open air, silence so he could just have a moment to think--

"A-ah!"

Zenitsu yelped as a car nearly took his head off, whizzing past so quickly that he couldn't help but stumble backwards- into someone's foot. Just as the man cried out and Zenitsu tried to turn around and apologize, someone else had been a victim to his clumsiness and was nearly toppled back by the blonde. The crowd of passerbys couldn't help shoot the anxious, overwhelmed blonde dirty looks, and he tried his best to keep his lower lip from wobbling in embarassment, from wailing about how he, once again, wanted to go home.

He had been in the city for just five minutes--

But just as quick, he felt steady, large hands scoop him from underneath his arms and picked him up. His feet left the ground and he was so close to a shriek, about to kick out and flail, the type you do when you assume you're being kidnapped; until finally he was able to pick apart the sound of a steady melody, a low rumbling of fireworks that he never thought he'd be glad to hear. Quickly being spun around and tugged away, Zenitsu's voice squeaked out the name of his savior. "U-Uzui--!"

"Geez kid, don't run off like that." Tengen chided, dismissive of the panic on Zenitsu's face. Moreso, he was just glad he caught up to the blonde in general. The two were just in front of the stairwell leading down to the train station, patrons and passerbys crowding around them and each with their own destination.

Zenitsu huffed, struggling a bit in Tengen's hold before wincing, lifting a hand to quickly clamp down on one ear, trying his best to muffle the noise the best he could. What a sight they were, Tengen's height and stature easily able to pick up Zenitsu, allowing the blonde to see the tops of other people's heads. His eyes were already red rimmed, but the stubborn pout on his face was enough to at least ground him- ironic, funnily enough. Trying to feign defiance over his lingering anxiety. "I-it's too loud! There's so many people here--!"

Tengen snorted, finally putting the blonde down and now away from the thick of the crowd and off by the side. Thankfully, the blonde at least complied this time, but that annoyingly cute pout still remained on his face. "What, that much of a recluse that you've never seen the city?"

"I've been to the city!" Zenitsu squawked, the reprieve from the bustling crowd enough for him to at least lower his hand from his ear. "Just--just not this city! I've been to where my brother studies, but it's...it wasn't this loud!" He complained, and that at least earned him a guffaw from the older man.

Prick--!

"Kid, look around you. Does this look like a respectable college?" Tengen taunted, gesturing to the high rise buildings, the glassy walls and crowded streets enough of a supposed sign. What did Zenitsu think, a rolled out red carpet awaited him?

Not yet, at least; he's got to earn it first.

Zenitsu risked looking around to where Uzui pointed, and he couldn't hold in the wince. O-okay, so this place did seem a bit...ritzier than his brother's college. High, glassy buildings and sleek cars, with even mleeker people still passing them their occasional glances, gazes lingering on, of course, Tengen. In fact, if Zenitsu would pay attention, he could even pick apart a few billboards that plastered the idol's face, smug and handsome and in all of it's 16 by 12 foot glory.

Watching Zenitsu's resolve falter, Tengen shook his head and sighed dramatically, a tone of teasing interlaced with his words. "And here I thought you were at least sensible...looks like I got my work cut out for me."

"Hey! L-listen here, you--erk!" Zenitsu squeaked, his trolley bag and backpack being unceremoniously passed into his hands, shoved against his chest and almost knocking the wind out of him.

Very nearly did, with how fast Tengen moved, his free hand waving over a shining, silver Ferrari (Or what Zenitsu assumed was a Ferrari, with how...flashy it was. He was never really big on cars, usually his brother the one pointing out his favorite models as Zenitsu listened) pulling up next to them. "Hold that thought, brat." He said, a man stepping out of the car and handing Tengen the keys. "I haven't even given you your gift yet."

Zenitsu fumbled with the bags in his hand, his eyes widening and gawking at the idol. "You-you got me a car?!"

Unimpressed, Tengen snorted and gave the blonde a wry, amused look. "You wish," With one hand accepting the keys, he used his other to swing the passenger seat open, a clear invitation for Zenitsu to get in before he himself moved to the driver's side. "But maybe if you're good, I can get you one next time." Tengen teased, a snicker escaping him as he watched Zenitsu struggle to fix his bags, doing his best to at least balance them in his arms before shoving them haphazardly into the car. Tengen's chauffeur made a move to help the blonde, but with a not so discreet shake of Tengen's head and a grin in dismissal, the man simply crossed his hands behind his back and watched the struggling blonde. Instead, Tengen again spoke with a nonchalant tone,

"Until then, I'll just give you a different gift now- if you can manage to get in at least."

"...Any time now--"

"W-Would you hold on for one second?!"

Chapter Text

Oh.

Oh wow.

"I know, I know. You're welcome." Tengen chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest and watching Zenitsu slowly walk around the room, the blonde's brown eyes shot wide, incredulous and truthfully? A bit scared of his surroundings. There wasn't anything really to be scared of though; after all, this was just a penthouse condo.

Zenitsu's penthouse condo.

Actually, it was really Tengen's. One of his many properties around the city, an investment of his that allowed him to hold his business whenever and wherever he wanted. Part of his busy schedule as a producer, among other things. But he needed a place for Zenitsu, and what was one less condo? Tengen could just buy a new one for himself, no big deal.

But of course, that was Tengen's point of view. A mere drop in the bucket from his wealth, nothing that he'd really miss. He was dismissive of Zenitsu's complete awe, watching with just the smallest hint of amusement as Zenitsu slowly made his way to the windows, pressing a flat palm gently against the clear glass; high and imposing, reaching the ceiling of the already large condo. Giving the blonde a nauseating bird's eye view of the city, a view that made his knees shake and bile threaten to climb up his throat.

Or, that might have been his entire predicament altogether.

"I...I..." Zenitsu murmured, pulling his hand away, leaving behind a sweaty imprint of his palm behind. As out of place as Zenitsu felt, a messy smudge on otherwise pristine, clear perfection. Fitting. "I need to sit down." Zenitsu finished, staggering backwards slow and careful, eventually sitting down on the plushest sofa seat he has ever dared sit on. The condo was already fully furnished, already previously decorated and catered to Tengen's own preferences, expensive luxuries and furniture giving the place a modern, sleek feel. His own luggage remained by the door, where he had earlier dropped it, his hands having grown weak and clammy when Tengen had so eloquently told him, "Welcome to your new place."

Tengen bit back another laugh, easily sauntering over to the seemingly bedraggled looking blonde. He rested his elbow on the headrest of the seat, looking down at Zenitsu. The sofa seat was large, specifically ordered for Tengen's stature, making the blonde look much smaller in comparison. Not to mention, Zenitsu had his knees pulled up to his chest, making him shrink all the more as he tried to curl in on himself. "You okay there?" Tengen asked teasingly. Zenitsu's face was obscured by his hands, so Tengen couldn't see the expression he was making, no doubt that regular, anxious mess that was to explode out in profanities at any--

Sniff.

--second.

"...Zenitsu?" Tengen blinked at the sound of--no, he wasn't.

Zenitsu was. Crying, that is. It was soft, the kind where you were just barely trying to hold it back, not wanting anyone else to see or hear you. But to Zenitsu's luck, he was in the presence of not only someone with the same sharp hearing as him, but he wasn't exactly doing a good job of hiding it either. In fact, small whimpers and continuing sniffles escaped him, his shoulders shaking slightly as he tried in vain to recompose at least his breathing.

Tengen quickly moved in front, bending to a knee and letting out a nervous, forced laugh. No longer a taunt, clear discomfort and confusion laced in his sound. "Haha, these are...happy tears, aren't they?" He asked, tilting his head and one of his hands hovering, as if about to touch Zenitsu but still so hesitant to really reach out for him.

"J-just...give me a minute." Zenitsu mumbled, not yet pulling his hands away from his face, now rubbing the balls of his palms into his eyes and trying to scrub his tears away. In his concern, Tengen could do nothing but comply.

Kind of. 37 seconds and very much not a minute later, already he had finally reached out to Zenitsu, placing a tentative hand on the blonde's arm, still resting on one knee. Like this, Tengen was practically eye level with the blonde; now if only Zenitsu could look at him. "Zenitsu? You alright?" He asked, his tone gentler in comparison to the smug persona he had been parading around.

Zenitsu nodded slightly, barely a bob of his head before he pulled his hands away from his face, finally meeting Tengen's eyes. His eyes were red rimmed and glassy, the area around them looking dewey from Zenitsu's insistent wiping. Even then however, new tears threatened to spill over, about to create fresh tracks over his cheeks. His lip wobbled, and he was again sniffling. Absent from his face was a smie, the one that Tengen had expected after everything.

Tengen moved his hand from Zenitsu's arm to under his eye, wiping away a tear that had just begun it's roll down Zenitsu's face. "Hey, hey, hey, what's wrong?" Tengen again asked, his voice soft and allowing his touch to linger. At the gentle treatment however, Zenitsu gave a small hiccup, about to start crying all over again.

"It's just...it's a lot." Zenitsu murmured, Tengen finally pulling his hand back. The blonde then gestured vaguely to the condo, causing Tengen to furrow his brows.

"The condo? Zenitsu, don't worry, it's nothing to--"

"Not--not just the condo," Which was already big enough as is, mind you. But it was merely the straw that broke the camel's back; the physical proof that this was all real. "I'm j-just...overwhelmed, I think. W-with everything."

"You mean the city?"

"I mean everything!" Zenitsu squeaked, his voice nearly cracking on a hiccup. Zenitsu's hands flopped to his lap, fiddling with the fabric of his pants and sighing as he looked down to watch his own hands, not able to hold Tengen's gaze from his own worry and guilt chipping away. "The whole...singing thing. It's...everything's happening so fast, and-and I think I just need a breather."

Tengen hummed, low and finally understanding. At least a little bit; when he had just entered the industry, he had loved the fast paced speed of his schedules, always rushing to meet deadlines and projects. He had acclimated well, easily keeping up with the intense competition and meeting each and every demand. It was practically second nature to him now; but as he gazed at Zenitsu's ruddy face and doe eyes, only then did he realize that maybe he had moved just a bit too quick.

Tengen reached for Zenitsu's hands, his movements now slow and careful as he squeezed them softly. The comfort was...nice, welcomed even. Zenitsu raised his eyes back to Tengen's, the pink of the older man's eyes looking less sharp, more fond. Sweet and apologetic. "I...may have jumped the gun, suddenly bringing you here," Tengen started, the scrunched up expression Zenitsu gave him at least causing him to snicker. "And I'm sorry for that. But, Zenitsu...I want you to know that I genuinely believe that you have what it takes. To make it big; bigger than me, even."

"You're just saying that--"

"I'm not." Tengen insisted, and Zenitsu couldn't help the way his chest lurched at the admission, the way his ears picked up the sincerity in Tengen's sound, how the booming melody had skipped a beat, turning softer. It sounded a lot like truth, but even then Zenitsu couldn't help but feel himself falter, his hands still clasped carefully in Tengen's hold.

"I'm...I'm not sure, Uzui--"

"Well, I am. Zenitsu, you...you sound perfect." Tengen said, his words honest and hopefully enough to comfort Zenitsu. Or at least assure him. Tengen shifted in his position, but even then he didn't let go of Zenitsu's hands, using his thumb to stroke over Zenitsu's knuckles. "Look, how about this; I was going to bring you to the company tomorrow,"

A startled whimper.

"But, we can just stay inside instead. Okay? We'll let you get settled in, I can help you get acquainted with what we have planned...I can even buy you a new phone--"

"Uzui, I don't need a new phone." Zenitsu snorted, finally a small smile breaking on his face. Relief washed over Tengen at seeing Zenitsu's shoulders relax, the smile suiting the blonde's sweet face much more than any other accessory. "But...I do like the idea of s-staying in. For...two days? Maybe?"

"Two days." Tengen declared, letting out a relieved sigh at Zenitsu's calmer demeanor, his melody moving from an anxious staccato to that steady harmony Tengen had recognized. The two remained like that for a few moments more, mirrored smiles and relief shared between them in the now comforting quiet of Zenitsu's new home.

Finally, Tengen drew up to properly stand, only gently letting go of Zenitsu's hands as he pulled himself up. "Two days and today to get settled." He said, chuckling in the way Zenitsu perked up, clear happiness and relief on his face.

"Including today? U-Uzui, I...thanks."

"Don't worry about it." If anything, Tengen needed to thank Zenitsu for braving this through. So long as Zenitsu put his faith in Tengen, the producer would see fit that the blonde would go beyond him in stardom and fame; like Zenitsu's voice deserved. "Now...how about I order us some food?"

"Oh, that...sounds nice, actually."

"Great! Now," Back to his assured bravado, Tengen pulled his phone from his pocket and started dialing one of his favorite restaurants; may as well get Zenitsu used to the higher tastes of luxury now, he supposed. "While we're waiting for the food, I can give you a rundown of my plan to turn you into the flashiest idol Japan has ever seen--"

"H-huh? I don't w-want to be too flashy--! And a-already?! I thought you were gonna help me get settled--!"

"Well, I can't give you three days off for nothing! I need to at least give you a heads up of everything I've got ready--"

"Y-you--!"

Chapter Text

Harsh knocks on his door and an incessant buzz to his doorbell was not how Zenitsu wanted to start his day.

He groaned and tried to pull himself up out of bed, but the soft warmth of the mattress was far too much of a pull. Just as quick, he collapsed his head on top of his pillows, sighing and rubbing his cheek on the soft material, enjoying the still warm feeling of--

Again with that annoying knocking--followed by a seemingly distant, determined call of his name. "Zenitsu, open up!"

Zenitsu sniffed once, squeezing his eyes shut and resisting the urge to kick out and wail; he had never been a morning person! Even back home! No matter how many chores he had to do, he always--

"Oi, blondie! Get up!"

Zenitsu didn't hold back this time, letting out an annoyed cry and kicking his feet out from his blankets, freeing himself as he gave a brief, frustrated flail at the horrible wake up call he was greeted to. Dammit, he requested for just two days, didn't he?!

Huffing out, he swung his legs over the side of the large bed and stood up, his sleepy daze absolutely ruined. He had yet to unpack his things fully, most if not all of his personal belongings still in the confines of his bags and luggage, the bedroom nothing more than practically just the bare essentials of furniture. A king--tyrant sized bed, a large reclining chair, and a wall television that he had yet to fiddle with. After the supposed peptalk and admittedly satisfying dinner he shared with Uzui last night, he thought that he'd at least be given today for himself! He even listened and got thoroughly freaked out about Uzui's expansive plans about getting Zenitsu famous! Yet here he was; with Uzui annoying him yet again!

The aspiring star practically stomped his way to the door, muttering and grinding his teeth all the while. The moment he flung open the door, he was immediately greeted by that same rambunctious sound of drums and fireworks, a brilliant but cocky smile, and a delectable aroma. "What." Zenitsu growled, his tone trying to come off as threatening, ignoring the hoarse crack of his voice at the impromptu wake up call.

Uzui's grin widened at seeing Zenitsu, hair still mussed and dressed merely in his pajamas; not just a hasty t-shirt and comfortable pants, but honest to God pajamas. A matching set with cartoon designs of lightning bolts, rolling clouds, and funny looking monsters. "Well, good morning to you too, blondie--hey, hey! No need for that!"

Uzui got a funny sense of deja vu, with how swift Zenitsu tried to slam the door close in his face. But whether it be from finally knowing what to expect or from finally knowing Zenitsu, he was quicker this time, throwing his foot out to block the door from closing fully. Thank God for his shoemaker, the finest pieces of leather that money could afford. From the other side of the door, Zenitsu groaned and again tried to slam the door closed, this time swinging with a hopefully harder impact. No amount of leather could really block pain, sad to say.

"Ow! Quit it, you brat--"

"Go away! I-I had the worst night of my life!"

"Pft, I doubt that. Would you let me in already?"

Zenitsu pouted at the easy dismissal, nonetheless finally opening the door after a few more beats of hesitation. "It was the worst night of my life." Zenitsu mumbled, stepping aside for the silver haired producer to finally come in.

"Really? Don't see any eyebags on you." Uzui mused, shooting another glance towards Zenitsu and scrutinizing his face. Honey gold doe-eyes, messy blonde hair, rounded apple cheeks, fucking freckles--the fans are gonna adore him. And most important of all, no eyebags.

But, a definitive pout on Zenitsu's lips, brows knit together and looking all annoyed. Less like a popstar, more like a spoiled brat. "I'm not used to sleeping alone." Zenitsu said, one of his feet lightly kicking at nothing. Sure, the bed was soft and heavenly, while the temperature of the room was just right; but even then, the white noise of nothingness was enough to keep Zenitsu up, sporadic bouts of sleeping interlaced with soft sniffles and resigned phone scrolling in the dark of the night.

However, Zenitsu's anger flared up again as Uzui merely laughed, finding the whole 'pitiful' ordeal a mixture of amusing and pathetic. Zenitsu could tell, the sound emanating from Uzui's chest as clear as a church bell. "Oh, you'll get over it!" Uzui called, making his way to the living room, just as bare as Zenitsu's bedroom save for the couch, and the small coffee table in the center. That same coffee table that Uzui easily placed a plastic bag on top of, that same delicious smell emanating from it. "Maybe breakfast would help your mood, hm?"

"Breakfast?" Zenitsu said, blinking dumbly and taking another whiff of the smell. Breakfast. Something of the expensive kind too, judging from the scent alone. Something with buttered toast, maybe? Or-or maybe poached eggs? What kind of breakfast do celebrities eat, anyway?

As Zenitsu cautiously approached the plastic bag like it was a rabid dog, Uzui meanwhile merely shrugged and held back another snicker as he watched Zenitsu carefully take the packaged containers out from the plastic bag, followed by the sturdy and carefully crafted wooden spoons. "I said I'd take care of you, didn't I?" Uzui said, his voice just on the verge of bragging.

Apparently, both of Zenitsu's guesses were right. And then some, as Zenitsu felt his stomach do both a flip and rumble at the array of food that Uzui had bought him. He gulped down the hunger and apprehensive knot building in his throat, managing a small whimper as he turned back to the older man. "Hey, this is--this! You're being dramatic! I can't finish all of--"

"You can and you will." Uzui interrupted, tapping a manicured fingernail against Zenitsu's forehead, promptly shutting him up. For now at least, as Uzui continued as he dropped his hand. "I'll come back later with your lunch."

"Huh? You're...you're not going to eat with me?" Zenitsu blinked, and Uzui could swear the little brat's brows were forever knit together, a permanent pout on his face that was just bordering on cute. Almost there, if only he wasn't so annoying. "Do you have anything to do today?"

"Well, not exactly, but I can't really be your server the entire day now, can I?" Uzui mused, already fishing his phone out of his pocket, about to check for whatever he could do to keep himself busy. However, a little, dissatisfied note in Zenitsu's melody had the older man glance up from the screen.

Zenitsu was...well, not pouting. At least, not directly towards Uzui in any case. In fact, the blonde's eyes were trained on the ground, his hands fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. "Um...I don't think I can finish everything myself..." Zenitsu mumbled, his feet shuffling against each other on the ground.

Uzui snorted, raising a barely-there eyebrow in amusement. "I'm already going to make you the flashiest star in Japan, what more do you want?" 

Zenitsu made a little sound, a soft hum and an even softer nod. "I know, but...I, um, I don't like eating alone, and..." He trailed off, his face turning redder in a mix of shame and embarassment. 

And he should be embarassed, Uzui thought! Had he really been around people his whole life that he's not used to eating by his lonesome?

...Hm, judging from Zenitsu's shyness and spoiled attitude, that actually made a lot of sense.

Uzui sighed, another dismissive rejection already on the tip of his tongue--but then Zenitsu just had to sniffle, and already Uzui could swear he could see damn tears forming on his eyelashes. And from the sorrowful, pitiful melody in the air, Uzui was shocked to find that it wasn't just crocodile tears, but a sincere sadness at the prospect of being alone.

...The fans are going to eat him up. 

With a loud sigh, Uzui rolled his eyes and repocketed his phone. "Didn't know you were going to be such a crybaby about it--"

"I'm not a crybaby!" Zenitsu countered, doing his best to scowl at Uzui and take back the tears that were already about to fall. Y-you can't really blame him! He's a-a-a-a sensitive soul! That's all!

Well, Uzui didn't know how exactly a sensitive soul roped him into this, but here he was, sitting down on one end of the sofa and finding himself not minding all too much. Similarly, despite Zenitsu's incensed huffing and muttering, the younger man flitted to the food and picked two up, passing one packaged container to Uzui as he sat down on the opposite end of the seat.

The emptiness of the living room was daunting, but Uzui knew that in due time, it would no doubt grow as messy and sincere and warm as Zenitsu was; but right now, Uzui couldn't help but think that the comforting quiet of the morning suited the two of them just fine. As he opened his own container and was greeted with a pair of scrambled eggs, he glanced back at Zenitsu, already halfway scarfing down a pancake drizzled with syrup. "You expect me to help you unpack too?"

"Hm?" Zenitsu chewed for a moment, thinking about the offer before giving a much more assured nod, swallowing down the fluffiest pancake he's ever had. "Well, I do have tons of things to fix."

"Mm-hmm. Wonderful," Uzui chuckled, picking up one of the scrambled eggs with his spoon. He called Zenitsu's attention before reaching over and placing the egg in the blonde's container, the blonde leaning over and accepting the offered egg with a small 'thank you'; he did get the food for Zenitsu after all. "Hey, speaking of. Where's the poster you have of me? We should put it right here in the living room to give you a boost of inspiration before everytime you leave."

Zenitsu didn't answer at first, his cheeks filled with food and looking like some kind of gerbil; reminding Uzui of his own pet mice, a cute rodent in his own, blonde way. He then swallowed and gave what he hoped was a nonchalant hum. "Oh, I threw it away." Neither of them acknowledged the clear lie in Zenitsu's sound as he answered, but that was just fine with Uzui.

Chapter Text

"Y'know, mom always told us 'a watched pot never boils'," Nezuko mused as she held back a laugh. "And when she comes over to visit, I don't think she'll appreciate you not taking those words to heart."

"...Hm? Ah, sorry...you were saying something, Nezuko?" Tanjiro smiled, finally glancing up from his phone and regarding his sister. His drink was still untouched, the gentle tea he ordered left to cool atop an engraved coaster. Nezuko couldn't help the laugh that escaped from her then, shaking her head at her brother's oblivious, yet sincere confusion.

Tanjiro could smell the amusement from his sister, but he honestly was lost on what she said. The two were in one of the smaller cafes in the city, but no less renowned, known for their variety of drinks and pastries. Even though both of the sibling preferred the home baked breads back home, the same pastries they even baked themselves on their days of rest, even they couldn't resist the allure of checking out the drinks for themselves. On the way to the cafe, they even managed to endure the two times different fans had approached for a picture and an autograph, recognizable even in their subdued covers of caps and sunglasses. They were now resting inside the cafe, tucked into the corner and now at least without their caps worn, their sunglasses folded up on the table so they could converse properly. But even then, Tanjiro's attention was...distracted, nowadays. Nezuko feigned a dramatic sigh, before finally leaning from across the table to glance at her brother's screen herself, the redhead even tilting his phone closer so Nezuko could see. She blinked at the page, then raised an eyebrow to her brother. "Chuntaro...ChunChun?"

Tanjiro chuckled, offering a half shrug to his sister's expression as he finally picked up his drink, the only thing he ordered compared to Nezuko's own order of a frappe and custared cake. "What can I say, I'm a fan." Was the only thing Tanjiro could offer, the blush on his cheeks a telltale sign that he was more than a fan.

Honestly, you'd think with Tanjiro being a famed actor, he'd be better at hiding his crushes.

But, Nezuko figured that was what made him so likeable to the media, all things considered. Sincere and honest during interviews, even still a master performer on screen. Ever since they were kids, Tanjiro couldn't lie to save his life, more often than not actually telling on himself and his siblings on the rare occasions that they got into trouble. Having grown up under the watchful but patient eyes of their parents, the Kamado siblings all grew up obedient; but they were kids back then, so the instances of mischief wad playfulness was warranted.

As Nezuko watched Tanjiro again glance at his screen, it was always nice to look back on where they came from, and looking to where they are now. The quiet but sweet provincial life now behind them, as both Tanjiro and Nezuko had managed to make names for themselves in the big city, in the entertainment industry no less. Whereas Tanjiro found his calling for acting, Nezuko meanwhile managed to climb the ranks as an independent but lucrative model, porcelain skin and bright pink eyes alluring all on their own. They didn't mean to become famous, honest! The two left home to simply look for well paying jobs to send back home, that was the plan. They had started small, with simple errands and deliveries; mostly accomplished by Tanjiro, ever the hardworking brother as he tried his best to juggle multiple part time jobs, leaving Nezuko to fill her own pocket money as he handled the main bills of their small shared apartment at the time, Nezuko the only one with a real bedroom as Tanjiro slept on the couch.

A few copywriting jobs, freelance waitressing, being scouted by an up and coming designer that inevitably turned big...

The rest was history for Nezuko, career wise. Tanjiro had easily fallen suit, having been seen by Nezuko's side during one of her runways and immediately targeted by a famed director. Even with the large scar running on the side of his forehead, Tanjiro's good looks and kind voice was found to be better suited for acting roles; he was surprised himself, with how easily he was able to perform for the cameras.

And yet, so easy to be honest and open to his sister, a soft sigh escaping him as he couldn't help but forlorly caress the screen with his thumb and making no sense to hide his admiration for the singer, a reuploaded video of _ChuntaroChunChun_'s song by a random fan account. Not the best quality as it was a clear screen recording, but the audio was near perfect, almost as perfect as the original; enough to warrant a good thirty thousand views within the 3 days it's been uploaded, at least. But even then, Tanjiro couldn't help but miss his secret goldmine of earnest, melodic videos. All accompanied by a gorgeous, sweet looking blonde singing them, and Tanjiro was sure he would have gotten a 'top fan' title should the video streaming platform ever have one. But now with the account itself deleted (Probably a copyright claim from the original singer of the song? Tanjiro knew of his movies having their own fair share of cut clips posted, but he personally didn't really see the big deal.) Tanjiro had to make do with the reuploaded copies he found scattered online.

Nezuko raised a brow, adjusting her seated position as she nursed her sweet drink in her hands. "Isn't that the video that made him famous?" She asked; she had heard of the song cover once or twice, but she was mostly familiar with the original song itself, along with the trending keywords on Twitter. Regularly shared and reposted by her friends, she could mostly recall the chorus of the cover being cut into shorter clips.

"Yeah..." Tanjiro sighed, then gave a wry mile, a small huff escaping him. "...I was a fan of his before he got famous, y'know." As if wanting to prove his dedication to the blonde and his account, and to his sister no less.

"Pfft! Mm-hmm, sure."

"H-hey, it's true!" Tanjiro defended, then turned his phone towards his sister, showing his screen openly now. "Look, I even subscribed to the reuploader! And I watched him all the time on my older YouTube account!"

"...BreadHead0714?"

"Er, like I said; my older YouTube account." Tanjiro chuckled, retracting his phone from his sister's amused expression. She smelled light and bubbly, fresh flowers and laughter a pleasant scent to his nose, alongside the familiar smell of nostalgic charcoal and pine trees that each of his family members have, shared among his kin. Small bout of nostalgia aside and making a mental note to call their parents when they get home, Tanjiro then turned his attention back to his phone.

_ChuntaroChunChun_ only had a handful of subscribers, if Tanjiro's memory serves him right. He had found him by accident, when he initially enjoyed the cover _ChuntaroChunChun_  made of an old childhood lullaby that Tanjiro kept close to his heart, but he then stayed upon listening to the singer's other covers, each one sounding better than the last. The rare occasional vlog and ramble the blonde posted only further endeared Tanjiro to him, and before long Tanjiro found himself to be a heartfelt fan, even leaving behind the regular comment to show his support, words of encouragement sent to the singer. Sure, Tanjiro was tone-deaf, but even he could tell that _ChuntaroChunChun_'s voice was great, if not addicting.

...Not to mention, Tanjiro found the blonde really, really cute.

Tanjiro then rolled his shoulders as he tried to engross his attention back to his little sister; he really did! But even as he laughed at her stories and asked questions about her newest offers, he couldn't help the way both his ears and chest missed the sporadic updates of _ChuntaroChunChun_, silly username be damned. He hoped that one day, the blonde could come back to grace his ears and eyes,

and maybe he could once again pretend that the songs were specifically for Tanjiro, even if only through the screen.

Chapter Text

"I'm still waiting around for that poster, blondie."

"I told you, I threw it away."

Uzui snickered, sauntering into the condo like he owned the place; well, he did, but he would have sauntered in confidently either way. His hands were still in his coat pockets as he entered, looking around and only somewhat admiring the clumsily furnished living room. He had spent all of yesterday happily wasting his time, helping Zenitsu unpack his luggage and try and settle properly into the sleek home. 

But if Uzui was being honest, he was rather just enjoying the whines that the blonde let out, the older of the two having mostly watched the blonde struggle with unpacking his things, having lounged from the couch for most of yesterday. Mostly just clothes and a few precious paraphernalia of comics and pictures, but Uzui was still keeping his eye out for the poster of himself. He had expected it to be displayed front and center in the living room, but alas it was still hidden away.

Zenitsu made a face, closing the door that he opened up to Uzui just moments earlier. It was a reasonable time to be awake at least, the sun shining comfortably through the high windows of the condo, the curtains tucked away to let the light and warmth in. However, Zenitsu held little appreciation for the day, now that Uzui was here. He made his disdain known as he scrunched his face up, wagging a finger at the taller man. "And take off your boots! Didn't anyone teach you manners?!" Zenitsu chided, his own barefeet on the ground tapping impatiently. He continued to rave as Uzui merely cocked his head back at him, a raised brow and an amused smile on his handsome face. "Seriously! If you were back home with my gramps, h-he'd tell you right off! He's probably even hit you! He would! Honestly, all the money someone could want and no manners..." He muttered, crossing his arms over his chest and his face pulled into a scowl.

Uzui merely waited for him to continue with his tirade, but after a few more moments of Zenitsu just glaring up at him, he simply retorted by asking, "...You done?"

"...No." Zenitsu huffed through gritted teeth, his cheeks warming in frustration at the complete disregard Uzui had to his scolding. However, despite his answer (Or more likely because of his answer) Uzui grinned brightly and waved his manicured hand dismissively.

"Good! Besides, it's not as if we're going to stay for long; Get dressed, we're heading out." He declared. He watched in amusement as Zenitsu's brows furrowed in confusion, then slowly raising as the date dawned on him. As if to rub salt into the wound, Uzui cheerily raised his two fingers up into a peace sign, wiggling them playfully. "Two days, Zenitsu. Times up, now to get back to reality." He reminded, a not so subtle reminder of their deal. That last occured two days and the day itself, when he promised the blonde. 

Zenitsu seemed to shrink in on himself, the bravado of earlier almost instantaneously dissipating as he slumped, his feet fidgeting against each other. He was merely dressed in a comfortable t-shirt and sweatpants, a pair of hand me downs from his brother that bunched around his ankles. "...Do I have t--"

"Yes." Uzui answered, rolling his eyes. "C'mon crybaby, I've spoiled you enough. I brought you here for business, remember?" Zenitsu winced at the words, but after another pleading look given to Uzui which was promptly smirked back, Zenitsu deflated and sighed sadly.

"Fine...um, what're we going to do today?" He asked, swinging his arms to hang behind his back. It was a simple attempt at stalling for time, one that Uzui saw through quite easily, but...the annoying little endearment that he had to the brat could give Zenitsu this grace, at least.

With a huff, Uzui pulled back the sleeve of his coat and checked his watch. Expensive and glinting in the light, the gold metal read that he had at most an hour and a half to get the little twerp ready. "I'm gonna introduce you to the CEO of our entertainment company," A small, wounded whimper went ignored as Uzui continued, biting back a chuckle at the sound. "Then I'll show you around the studio we're going to be working at, and we'll probably start showing you off."

"Showing...showing me off?"

"Introduce you to everyone, post about teasers online, start with your brand...but you don't have to worry much about that part," Uzui said, letting the sleeve of his coat slip back around his wrist as he dropped his hands back to his sides. "What you'll have to worry about is singing, and with a voice like that, it'll be easy and flashy." He finished, his voice sounding smooth and confident as he laid out the day's plans for Zenitsu.

However, the blonde seemed even more apprehensive, making a face and clutching at the hem of his shirt. Already, he could feel his stomach feel queasy at the sheer description Uzui gave. That was a lot, wasn't it?! "So I...just have to meet the CEO and sing today, right? I d-don't need to do the rest of it?" He had never really been good at social media, most of his individual posts capping off at 13 likes at best; he had earlier tried to research the best posting times, but even with research it did little to really bolster his online standing. Before the entire song debaucle happened, that is. He didn't like having too little attention, didn't like having too much, always flip flopping on what he really wanted.

But right now, he missed back when he had barely a pair of eyes on him. Now, he was faced with bright, magenta eyes that for so long he had adored; now looking at him with a sharp thrill to them that had Zenitsu worried. "That's right. As your new manager," Uzui bragged, a hand placing itself on his own chest and ignoring how Zenitsu's golden eyes widened in shock. "I'll handle hiring your marketing team--"

"Manager?! You?"

"Well, obviously." Uzui blinked, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I've been working for the company for practically a decade, I know how to make people famous, I've already been babysitting you ever since you arrived--"

"Hey!"

He continued, ignoring Zenitsu's indignant outcry. He'd argue about that later, once the two were done with today. Or earlier; would probably depend on how much he wanted to tease Zenitsu later. "And, most important of all, I promised." His sound, still confident, now held something else--not his voice, but his innate sound, a twinge of something more sincere. Caring, and Zenitsu could feel his incredulity fade as Uzui continued to reassure him. "I promised your father I'd take care of you, didn't I?" He finished. Then with the hand that had previously been resting on his chest, he then pointed to Zenitsu. In all of the blonde's hand-me-down glory, still looking just as flashy as he sounded. A strong melody, wavering only from a fear that Uzui could only hope to one day unwind. "So, trust me just a little bit."

Zenitsu stared back at Uzui, chewing the inside of his cheek as he considered what he was hearing. Not the words, but the melody that resonated from Uzui's chest; a genuine promise that he was going to be ok.

After another beat of silence, Zenitsu let out a breath and shook his head, as if to clear his mind from the deceptively sweet and caring sound that he almost fooled himself into thinking he heard. "I don't...have much of a choice now, do I?"

A toothy grin, and the rumble of excited fireworks bloomed in Uzui's chest. "That's more like it! Now," Having been the owner of the condo himself for a time, Uzui was well aware of where everything was, which included the bathroom. Pointing to it, he posed Zenitsu a question. "Are you going to head into the shower, or do you need help with that too?"

Biting back a strangled, embarassed shriek of 'Annoying!', Zenitsu merely held what little dignity he had left by turning beet red and practically sprinting to the bathroom to wash up, hearing Uzui's teasing cackle behind him.