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“Okay, so hear me out,” said Momo, leaning over the back of the couch that Banri was sitting on. “We go, but we just stay in the back the whole time and do shots and just pretend we watched it.”
“Only if we can also play Spin The Bottle,” Yuki said, eyeing Banri’s unimpressed face hopefully. These hopes were dashed; true to form, Banri shook his head.
“The two of you can do whatever you please,” he said, in that tone of voice that suggested that whatever Re:vale pleased had better be somethin Banri approved of, or Yuki was getting blocked again. “I will be attending and watching the whole thing. I’ve already bought my ticket, and it wasn’t cheap.”
“I was hoping we could all get seats next to each other,” Yuki said, making the saddest eyes he possibly could at Banri, who remained, at least outwardly, unfazed.
“Absolutely not, we would end up disturbing not only all the people who actually want to watch Kujo’s musical, but also Trigger,” he said, “who have been working very hard on this musical, and their comeback. I know for a fact that if you are anywhere near my line of sight while I am watching Kujo’s musical about how he fumbled one of the best idols of all time, it will be much harder to restrain myself from heckling the performers, and poor Gaku-kun doesn’t deserve that, and neither do his groupmates.”
“Which is why we congratulate them beforehand, leave during the opening number, and get blasted in the lobby,” said Momo. “You know that Yuki and I can afford to get us a taxi home!”
“Yes, because the two top idols in Japan sneaking out of a musical starring Trigger in order to get wasted with an employee of a rival production group won’t cause any scandal at all, ” Banri said dryly. “As fun as that sounds, Momo-kun—and it really does sound fun, and if this were a different situation I would love to get drunk and play Spin The Bottle with you—it really isn’t feasible. Really, the only reasonable option here is that we suffer through the musical and don’t make eye contact, and then have a call or get together to talk about it later.”
“Ban, you want to play Spin The Bottle with me too, right?” said Yuki.
“Absolutely not, I’d rather die,” said Banri.
Yuki pouted; Momo stuck his tongue out at him.
“I might consider Seven Minutes In Heaven, though,” Banri said, taking pity; this time Yuki was the one silently gloating at his partner. Banri let this happen for a few seconds, and then added, “I can spend each minute telling you about the strengths of each member of Idolish7.”
“And none kissing me?” said Yuki.
Banri rolled his eyes. “I’m not in the habit of kissing my exes, Yuki,” he said, “whatever noun the ‘ex’ may stand in front of.”
“You hate me and you want me to die,” said Yuki.
Banri shrugged coolly. “Die if you must,” he said. “Do it when they’re congratulating Kujo on his great accomplishment. That should throw a damper on the night for him. Image-wise, I mean; I have no idea what he feels about you now.”
“Fine,” said Yuki. “Momo and I will get up on stage and do a dramatic double suicide in protest of anyone liking Kujo at all.”
“Do it, then,” Banri said sweetly. “I’ll watch the recording every year, and remember how dumb you were for fucking up Trigger’s comeback.”
Yuki pouted.
“And just think about how delightful that would be for Tsukumo. I’m sure it would make jail a far more fulfilling experience for him, knowing that Re:vale willingly tanked the comeback of the only group he managed to even temporarily cut down.”
“I think we can count Ryo and Kujo on the same side,” Momo said quickly, “so if we ruined Kujo’s night—”
“This musical is actively helping Trigger recover from what Tsukumo did to them, Kujo could not more clearly be on…” Banri grimaced, as though it were painful even to say the words. “… our side here. As unfortunate as it is. There’s nothing really that we can do to change that.”
“We could frame him—”
“Tsumugi looks up to him, so no, we can’t do that.”
“You’re such a killjoy, Ban,” Yuki complained. “I thought you hated Kujo more than anyone else.”
Banri did not reach up and touch the scar on his face. He did not crack a joke about five years of insomnia giving him plenty of time to decide what, exactly, he would do and say in a hundred different encounters with the man in question; he did not claim that the most consistent migraine trigger in the world was Kujo Takamasa’s face. Instead, he pressed his lips together, and then said, “I think Riku-kun, for one, is far more deserving of that title than I am, and likely dozens more people after him. I hardly think about the man, these days.”
“We hate him more than Riku-kun does,” said Yuki.
“Then you two hate him most in the world,” said Banri, “that’s wonderful, I’m happy for you guys, really. But leave me out of it, I don’t have anything to do with that man and I don’t want anything to do with that man.”
“Then why are you going to his musical?”
“As I’ve said no less than ten thousand times in this conversation alone, I’m going to support my boys, and to support Trigger, and to help Riku-kun get inside just in case that brother of his pulls something else to keep him from attending,” Banri said, “as I would no matter who had created the musical, because I don’t care about Kujo Takamasa.”
This was a bald-faced lie, and Yuki almost called him out on it; he didn’t only because Momo flopped down, his face buried behind the throw pillows and his hands splayed on the couch cushions.
“I know, I know, Ban-san, this is about Trigger and not Kujo…but still, isn’t it so unfair?” he said. “If only Ryo-san had gotten arrested earlier…or even if I’d asked him to ruin Kujo and nobody else… Not that I’ve ever worked with Ryo-san to ruin anyone’s lives, though!! I’d never do that!”
Neither Banri nor Yuki questioned this obviously suspicious statement; Yuki took this as an invitation to sit down as well, leaning against his partner’s torso and staring off into the middle distance, at the window shuttered off against the light and the wall framing it. There were a few darker spots on the paint, as though something had been quickly taken down from the wall; now was not the right time to ask about that, though, because technically Momo had talked their way into the lobby of the apartment building and Yuki had found, stolen, and made a copy of Banri’s spare key, so they were walking on thin ice here, a little bit.
“You can’t change the past, Momo-kun,” Banri said, running his fingers through his friend’s hair, feeling the way the texture changed when he got to his frosted tips. “I’m afraid your only options are to go and support Trigger, or to not go and give Trigger your apologies.”
“I want to go back to the island…” Momo said into the couch cushions.
“We should have stayed there longer,” Yuki agreed.
“I’m sure Okazaki-san would have had words for you if you tried,” Banri said. “And plenty of people here would miss you, too.”
“Did you miss us?” Yuki said hopefully.
“You did!” Momo said. “Ban-san, you should come with us next time!”
“That’s kind of you to offer, Momo-kun, but I have a job,” Banri said.
“Come work for us, then you could go on vacation whenever you want,” said Yuki.
“Been there, done that,” said Banri, “I would rather be tied to in-use train tracks than ever work with you again, Yuki. Momo-kun, if you ever wanted to change agencies to Takanashi Productions…”
“Don’t steal my partner, Ban!”
“Then take better care of him, Yuki.”
“Yuki takes great care of me, actually!” Momo said. “You don’t have to worry, Ban-san.”
“That’s wonderful news, Momo-kun,” said Banri. “If it ever changes please don’t hesitate to tie him to the roof of a building for seven hours straight.”
“You’re so mean to me, Ban,” said Yuki. “What did I ever do to deserve this?”
“Why are you in my home right now?”
“You gave me a key,” Yuki lied.
“I most certainly did not.”
“Keeping your spare key in the same place for ten years is the same as giving me a key.”
“The location is easy for me to remember, that’s all,” Banri said. “It was hardly so that you could come inside whenever you please. I let it slide this time, because you had something important you wanted to talk about, but…”
“Right!” said Momo. “Back to the main topic of our conversation. If there really is no way around seeing Kujo’s musical—”
“Trigger’s musical.”
“—then we should just skip out on the afterparty and go egg his house! In disguise, of course. What do you two say about that?”
“We should buy the eggs now, so that they’re rotten by the time we use them,” said Yuki.
“Do we know his address?” said Banri.
“Hm…no, but I can find it out!” said Momo. “I have eyes everywhere, Ban-san, there’s nothing I can’t find out!”
“Well, as long as you two get Okazaki-san’s permission first, I would be happy to vandalize Kujo Takamasa’s house with you,” said Banri. “Just don’t endanger yourselves to do it.”
“Yes, Mother,” said Yuki.
“Oh, shut up.”
“You shut up first.”
“Then get out of my apartment, bastard.”
“Over my dead body.”
“Ban-san, I can stay the night, right?” Momo said. “I promise I won’t kick you when I sleep! I’ve gotten much better control over my legs! I’ll even tie myself up!”
“Why do you get to share a bed with Ban?” said Yuki. “I knew him first, so I should get first pick.”
“Exactly, darling! You knew him first, so you already got to do it!” said Momo. “Whereas I haven’t had my turn yet. So obviously, I’m the one who gets to share his bed tonight!”
“Sorry, Momo-kun,” said Banri. “You can’t stay over either. I’m afraid I don’t have my apartment prepared for a guest, and besides, you have work in the morning, don’t you?”
“I could sleep on the floor,” said Momo, “or in the bathtub, or—”
“Absolutely not,” Banri snapped. “Neither of you are allowed in my bathroom under any circumstances.”
“We aren’t going to fuck in your shower, Ban,” said Yuki. “We aren’t wild animals.”
“It’s not about that,” said Banri. “You two just aren’t allowed in there. Or my bedroom, or the cabinets, and certainly not any boxes, calendars, or mail you may find…”
“You don’t trust us,” accused Yuki.
“I trust Momo-kun,” said Banri, a low blow that he amended a moment later by saying, “and you, too, I suppose. But you still aren’t allowed in any of the places I named.”
“Why not?” said Yuki.
“Haven’t you heard of privacy before, Yuki?”
“Of course I have,” said Yuki, as Momo plunged his arm into the couch cushions and began fishing around in the hopes that he could find a clue as to why Banri didn’t want them in most of his apartment hidden in there. They hadn’t given much warning to their visit, after all—one of the benefits to swiping and copying Banri’s keys. He had mentioned mail as one of the things they couldn’t look at; there was mail on his coffee table in front of the couch, mail that he had been sorting through when they’d come in and announced that they were were to talk through ways of boycotting Kujo’s musical without hurting Trigger. It was a long shot, but if Banri was to be hiding any letters, maybe he’d hidden them in the couch?
Banri and Yuki continued bickering over whether or not stealing and copying Banri’s keys and then sneaking into his apartment counted as an invasion of privacy; Momo’s fingers found paper, and he tried to push it up his sleeve as far as he could without letting either of them realize what he was doing. This counted, right? Banri really was hiding something from them, and there were enough clues in his apartment that he didn’t want them in here.
Well, that was okay. They had keys! And Momo had this piece of paper—letter or envelope, hopefully both, it was hard to tell—and that would be a nice little mystery to chew over instead of thinking about how terrible it was that they had to tolerate the hateful Kujo being actually helpful for once in his life.
It was nice enough that when Banri finally made them leave, this time employing his deadbolt, Momo didn’t protest too much; instead, he waited patiently until he and Yuki got to their car, plotting out loud how to egg Kujo’s house and get away with it, and then he produced the paper from his sleeve like a magician.
“Ta-da!” he said. “Darling, I found this in Ban-san’s couch cushions while you guys were arguing over whether it’s okay for us to break into his apartment. Do you think it might have anything to do with why we aren’t allowed to read his mail?”
“I think that was just Ban being pissed about us getting our own copies of his keys,” Yuki said. “He didn’t really mean it.”
“Maybe…” Momo said. He unfolded the paper; it was a doctor’s bill, neatly typed, from what appeared to be a neurologist’s office, for a recent appointment. Momo swallowed, considered that maybe he should read it over without Yuki first, folded it back up and stuck it in his pocket. “Yeah, you’re probably right!” he said. “Next time we come over, let’s try and beat him to it and read and then re-seal all his mail, though. Just in case.”
“And then send him a glitter bomb,” Yuki agreed, and he backed the car out and drove them off.