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Toya awoke in a cold sweat. For a few seconds, he sat amidst tangled sheets, gasping, fear stinging bright in his chest. He fumbled for his phone and found it on the floor, almost across his room. Toya didn't even stop to question it; he threw his covers aside, collapsed to all fours, and scrambled to his phone.
He unlocked it and held his breath.
Akito, Kohane, An. All still in his messages, in the order he'd last messaged them.
Right. He'd texted Akito last night about a melody he'd been struggling with, because banging his head against the wall never got him anywhere, and his partner had offered valuable feedback. Toya had made adjustments, then gone to bed. Right.
So why were his hands shaking?
Toya blew out a trembling breath and tapped through his phone, searching for anything that could explain how rattled he felt. It was 5:56, a full hour before he usually woke for school, and the spring weather promised blue skies, if a slight bout of humidity. Nothing. Toya even checked his sleep app, but it claimed he'd dipped in and out of REM and should feel fantastic.
His fingers navigated him back to his messages before his brain consciously processed the choice, and Toya stared down at his last conversation with Akito. What could he say? It'd been more than a restless night, that he knew for certain, but the only words that came to mind were, “Are you okay?” and that would raise more questions than answers.
Suddenly, Akito came online, already typing.
Akito: toya
Akito: shit you probably left your phone on
Akito: your battery is gonna be gone when you see this
Akito: are you feeling sick? or anything?
Relief spilled through Toya like a crashing wave. All he could do was wheeze, his hands still shaking too hard to type. He didn't understand. But some of the weight had eased, because Akito was there.
Toya: I'm awake
Akito: oh hey
Akito: i know that's a weird thing to wake up to
Toya: No, I understand
Toya: I don't feel good
Akito: you too? bad enough to skip?
Toya nearly choked from the force of the panic that speared through him. What was going on?
Toya: I'll make it
Toya: Are you coming to my class for lunch?
He didn't even have time to stand up before his phone vibrated again.
Akito: course i am
Akito: i'll see you then partner
Partner. Partner. Toya clung to the sentiment on the best of days, but today, he held his breath until his lungs ached. When he breathed out, he whispered it for absolutely no one to hear. Akito was still there.
But where else would he be?
Toya tried to put the extra hour to use since he'd been gifted free time. Every chord he tried felt undeniably wrong. At first, Toya thought he'd somehow switched his soundboard, but, no, it was his compositions, his experimental tracks, and they raked down his chest like claws. After half an hour of feeling like his heart would start bleeding if he breathed too hard, Toya abandoned his computer and hurried to the bathroom. Fine. Maybe a bath would do him good.
An and Kohane had both responded to his check-up texts by the time he'd dried his hair. Both girls confirmed they were fine and heading to school, and they'd meet at Weekend Garage later, as per their plans. Neither questioned why he'd asked. Toya's stomach clenched tighter.
He fled his house at 7:30 A.M., ignoring the 7:50 A.M. alarm on his phone that usually dictated when he left. The trains ran frequently enough, and he was just a station away; he'd get to Kamiyama early and-
And what? What was Toya running from? Where was he running to?
He floated in and out of homeroom, buoyed only by the teachers' rotation. He saw Mizuki eying him in his periphery, but all Toya could think about was that he and Akito still weren't in the same class, and he'd been so convinced that it was for the best, so he'd meet new people, but it was the worst thing in the world now.
Four periods passed in a daze. His notes would be incomprehensible later, and Toya just couldn't dredge up any of his usual care. Everything melted into a sludge of gray and anxiousness and an awful, awful sinking.
The ball rang, and his heart shot into his throat. Toya catapulted to his feet, already grabbing his bag; when he had packed it?, and-
Footsteps thundered down the hallway, followed by the door slamming open. The noise was somehow disguised in the rumble of people shifting desks and unpacking lunches, but Akito's panic-bright eyes cut through the crowd like a knife. Toya lurched forward, tugged by a force he'd never been able to escape, and all but shoved a classmate aside to escape his homeroom.
“Akito,” Toya gasped out, and realized he was begging.
His partner lunged like a fighter and wrapped him in a bone-breaking hug, the tightest he'd ever given. He buried his face in Toya's shoulder; he clutched Toya's uniform like he was drowning, and from so close, Toya felt Akito's chest heaving against his, shuddering with each ragged breath.
“You're here,” Akito muttered hotly, squeezing Toya tighter. “God, you're here.”
I am, Toya thought, and something deep within him broke. The hallway was busy enough, and Toya didn't care. He flung his arms around Akito and dug his fingers into the oversized jacket. His next breath came out tinged with tears. His third felt like the claws had punctured his lungs and were shredding him, but Toya held on. He had to.
Akito released him in a burst, and Toya swayed, dizzy. He shook himself until the world righted – his partner stood a step away, still a little frantic. Golden eyes surveyed Toya, then leaped to his face.
“Sorry,” Akito said, haltingly. “I- uh-”
“No,” Toya blurted, and Akito's shoulders eased. “No, I-”
Wanted that? Needed to know you were there? Both were true statements, but both edged too close to a conversation Toya refused to have when his heart felt so raw. He'd been avoiding it long enough. He certainly wouldn't try now, of all times.
“Thank you,” Toya settled on.
Akito visibly swallowed. “Yeah. Uh- lunch? I brought food today.”
It'd entirely slipped Toya's mind, even with his bag strap digging into his shoulder. “Can we eat in your classroom?” he murmured. “I don't...”
Words didn't come easily to him, not like they did for Akito and An. But his partner instantly nodded.
“Sure. Let's go.”
Technically, they'd passed the point where students were allowed to head to their friends' classrooms. But no hall monitors popped out of thin air to chide them, and Akito stuck close to his shoulder, knocking their arms together with every step. If Toya usually craved that casual touch, today, it was his lifeline.
No one in Akito's class paid him a second glance. He wasn't an uncommon appearance, even though Akito more often came to him, and Kusanagi spared a genial nod. Toya frowned once he noticed the conspicuous lack of a black-haired girl who should've been bounding over to say hello.
“Where's Shiraishi?” he asked, picking an empty desk beside Akito's.
Akito sat with a grunt. “She ran out. Said she was going to call Azusawa.”
And that made perfect sense to Toya, as illogical as it was. He sent a quick message to An – I'm in your class; tell me how Azusawa is – before stuffing his phone in the depths of his bag. He withdrew his packed lunch, half-wondering what he'd even packed in his morning stupor, and suddenly, Akito scooted his desk over. Their knees jammed together, close enough to be painful.
That same, inexplicable relief washed through Toya. The confession stuck in his throat. Akito didn't look up from his lunch, either, but when the bell rang, he shot Toya a look of thinly-veiled worry, and Toya beat back the urge to stay exactly where he was and pretend he'd always been in Akito's class.
“I'll see you after school,” he promised, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
“I'll be outside,” Akito agreed.
His eyes had adopted a fresh edge of panic. Toya didn't know how to admit that he felt the same.
The rest of his classes went no better, despite Toya's best platitudes to his muddled brain. Nothing his teachers said stuck; nothing he wrote down came out comprehensible. By the time they were dismissed for the day, he'd long since given up.
Toya called out sick to the library – “Oh no!” Nureki-san said, his voice heavy with sympathy. “I'm sorry to hear it, Aoyagi-kun. Well, don't worry, and take care of yourself.” – and raced out of Kamiyama. The crowds were thin enough for him to instantly spot Akito waiting in the shade of a tree, hands shoved deep in his pockets.
Given the morning they'd had, Toya didn't feel all that ashamed about picking up into a run. Akito glanced up and nearly sagged, and that more or less cemented Toya's conviction to stick as close as possible to his partner for the rest of the day.
“Welcome back,” Akito greeted.
Toya set his bag in the dirt beside his partner's. “Where's Shiraishi?” he echoed, and Akito rolled a shoulder.
“Said she had to talk to someone. I don't know who.”
“I see. We should wait for her.”
People rushed past them in ripples of motion. Toya's fingers felt tipped with ice despite the spring warmth; tremors wracked up and down his spine, no matter how hard he tried to calm them. Akito was still there, glaring off into the sea of students as if one of them had caused the affliction that'd assaulted their group.
God, he didn't care today.
Toya lurched closer and tucked against his partner's side. Most days, if Akito didn't initiate, he'd stiffen. Toya knew that. It was why he didn't reach out. But now, Akito's eyes fluttered shut, and he let out a soft breath before sagging into Toya, his head lolling against his shoulder.
Well. Suddenly, the tightness and anxiety that'd been chasing Toya throughout the morning morphed into a much more familiar beast, a vice around his lungs and a fire beneath his heart. This, at least, he knew how to deal with. Akito looked comfortable, anyway, and that mattered most.
The courtyard cleared, group by group, until they alone lingered in the shade. Toya's phone vibrated a few minutes later, and he dug it out of his bag. Thankfully, Akito didn't stir.
An: sorry
An: are you outside
Toya frowned. She'd been her usual self when he'd texted earlier, but it could've been an act. Something to convince herself she was fine. It wouldn't have been the first time, Toya supposed, and worry sloshed around his stomach.
Toya: Yes
Toya: Are you on your way?
An: yeah
In truth, Toya had never gauged how much An knew of his secret. He'd barely come to terms with it at the start of their second year, as his friends helped him experience the world and learn more about himself. Maybe An had noticed the change he'd tried so hard to disguise. One late afternoon, she'd tilted her head with a spark in her eyes. She'd stayed quiet, though, so Toya had swallowed his blinding fear and decided it meant nothing.
But she emerged from the school with her shoulders back and stiff, and she didn't bat an eye at him and Akito. Her makeup was smeared. Had she been crying?
“Are you alright?” Toya murmured.
An opened her mouth. Her gaze darted to Akito – belatedly, Toya noticed that his partner had roused and stared at the dirt with tired eyes – then returned to Toya, and she shook her head tightly.
“No,” she rasped. “Let's- let's just go. I need to see her. Now.”
She hurried out of Kamiyama without another word. Toya followed. His partner quickly fell into step, and they trailed a few steps behind An, arms firmly pressed together. Somewhere in the back of his mind, in that abandoned space Toya had devoted to all the revelations he couldn't consciously deal with, he imagined finally slipping his hand into Akito's.
It was enough for his partner to linger so close.
They made it to Weekend Garage in record time, springing to catch lights. An barreled inside, already tossing her bag toward an armchair, and Toya eased the door open with slightly more care. He opened it to find An already halfway across the room and gaining speed, hurtling toward Kohane.
Oh, Kohane. If An had seemed wobbly, Kohane looked devastated. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, her cheeks blotched, and when she saw An, her tears started anew.
“An-chan,” Kohane called, her voice cracking, and Toya realized, in a flash of understanding, that he'd sounded the same when calling out for Akito.
“Kohane,” An sobbed.
Then she grabbed her partner by the hands and hauled her up and into her arms.
The girls didn't hug often, to Toya's knowledge. They were on top of each other most of the time, swinging joined hands and cuddling in chairs meant for one person, but they, much like Akito and Toya, never seemed to hug. Watching An and Kohane embrace, sniffling and mumbling too softly to be heard, Toya stuffed another revelation aside: maybe he and An were more similar than he'd known.
“We should give them a second,” Akito prompted, and Toya flinched, startled from his thoughts.
“Oh... of course.”
Akito switched the neon sign off, then headed into the back. Toya finally clocked that Ken was nowhere to be found, but he decided not to question it. Some quiet would do him good. Akito sat heavily on the stage, and Toya joined him. He didn't get a chance to decide how far he wanted to press his luck before Akito nestled against his shoulder.
“You good?” his partner muttered.
“Better,” Toya managed. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit.”
They lapsed into silence. From Toya's angle, he just made out An's backlit silhouette as she pulled away from Kohane. He couldn't catch their conversation, and frankly, he didn't want to. Some things weren't for anyone's ears except the girls'.
Akito huddled closer, but Toya still saw how his partner traced angry circles on the floor with his gaze. “What?” Toya murmured.
Akito sighed, his eyes fluttering shut. “I woke up, and I thought you were gone, dude. Not dead, but- if I tried to text you, you wouldn't respond, and you wouldn't be at school. I just- I panicked. I felt- god, it felt like I was gonna die.” Akito huffed a humorless laugh, then straightened, and Toya tried his very best not to mourn. “Why were you up?”
Toya hesitated. Such a serious conversation deserved serious thought, and he hadn't stopped moving long enough to process. “I don't know,” he admitted. “I think I felt the same way. It was like a bad dream I couldn't remember.”
“Right,” Akito agreed, brow furrowed. “I texted Shiraishi and Azusawa after you.”
“So did I. I thought...”
Toya didn't know. He'd been pushed along by panic and aimless terror. But it seemed like enough, and Akito shuddered, returning to his position on Toya's shoulder. Toya didn't bother hiding his relieved sigh or how he leaned into Akito in turn, chasing his partner's warmth. Like the sun, he sometimes thought. Just as vibrant. Just as mesmerizing.
An and Kohane soon rounded the corner. Kohane gingerly moved a table aside before sitting, and An collapsed gracelessly atop her partner. Her using Kohane's leg as a pillow wasn't new. The way Kohane gently stroked An's hair was.
“You felt it, didn't you?” An whispered, eyes closed.
“Yeah,” Akito rasped for both of them.
Kohane seemed lost in An's sparkling hair, so Toya pitched in. “Could something have happened to the SEKAI?”
An hummed. “I guess. Are you going to check?”
It wasn't an accusation, or even an order. “No,” Toya said softly.
“I don't want to, either.”
Silence was rare in Weekend Garage, but Toya found he didn't mind it when his friends were with him. An didn't stir, Kohane gazed at the speakers as if they'd come to life and offer answers to the universe, and Akito's breaths evened out. Eventually, Toya caught the sound of customers, followed by Ken's voice. At least they couldn't be seen from the front unless someone walked all the way down the bar.
“Aoyagi-kun,” Kohane ventured. Her voice was raw, and she met Toya's gaze with open exhaustion. “It's all hazy, but I think I remember something from my dream.”
An stiffened. Akito's gentle breaths halted.
“What is it?” Toya urged, trying to ignore the dread coiling around his chest.
“I think... you were in a different country.”
Akito flinched, and instantly, a cold pit settled in Toya's stomach. They all knew Kohane was right, and any concerns Toya might've had about how they knew were drowned out by the ringing fear in his ears. What would he do if he didn't live here? Who would he be without his friends? His team? Without Akito?
As if prompted by the thought, his partner sucked in a sharp breath. “Well, he's not,” he muttered darkly, and seized Toya's hand. “He's here.”
Toya... had had something to say. A thought to contribute. But it'd immediately abandoned him. Akito's hand was soft in his, and Toya's heart kicked up into a stuttering half-step. This wasn't an illusion of its own, was it? Had he imagined the whole morning, complete with an impossible shared dream haunting his mind?
“Hey,” Akito pressed, squeezing Toya's hand. “You with me?”
“Yes,” Toya returned, entirely on instinct.
“Good. Stay here.”
That was an order, and Toya wondered at the fact that it was the easiest one he'd ever been asked to obey. Where else would he go? He refused to abandon his friends – An, who'd curled up tighter, her hands fisted in Kohane's shirt and her face buried in the other girl's stomach. Kohane, still stroking An's hair, watching Toya with a worry so genuine it made Toya ache.
Akito, huddled close and clutching Toya's hand like it'd keep them both alive.
When the next round of customers left, Ken's heavy footsteps finally resounded through the café. On another day, Toya would've ripped his hand out of Akito's or warned An and Kohane. But Ken surveyed them with nothing but concern, and Toya wondered if his months of fervent secret-keeping had impacted him more than he'd thought.
“What happened?” Ken asked.
Kohane glanced at Toya, silently pleading for help. Toya couldn't think of a single thing that wouldn't expose the existence of the SEKAI.
“Just got reminded that life could suck,” An piped up.
“Could suck,” Ken echoed slowly. “Nothing happened right now? A show wasn't cancelled?”
“No, sir,” Toya contributed, because this was safer ground. “We'll be alright.”
Ken looked between them again, a frown creasing his brow. Then he turned away, and Toya thought he heard Ken murmur, “I hope you will,” as he left.
They only got a few more minutes of peace before An's phone buzzed. She curled tighter around Kohane with a muffled noise of protest, but Kohane fished An's phone out of her pocket and answered it for her. Toya blinked, bemused. Whoever was on the other end apparently wasn't surprised, and after a moment, Kohane touched An's shoulder.
“An-chan,” she murmured, softer than Toya had ever heard from her. “It's Haruka-chan.”
“Tell her I'm busy,” An insisted, batting at the phone.
“I... really think you should talk to her. She said you called her earlier, and she's still worried.”
An paused. Then she groaned, catching her phone and rolling to her knees in one graceful motion. For someone who hadn't put in the same dance training that Akito and Toya had, An was incredibly nimble. Kohane quickly followed suit, her cheeks dusted pink. Just before the girls rounded the bar, An reached out blindly, and Kohane jogged to catch her partner's hand.
Was that how Toya looked, always pulled into Akito's gravity?
Was that how he looked now?
Whatever mental barricades had been keeping Toya functional promptly imploded, and he was left staring at the mess he called a heart. Akito had started it, and Toya didn't understand. They'd always been close, yes, each other's best friend without competition, but never like this. Never in the way Toya had wanted, never with a lingering that wasn't so easily explained away.
Akito shifted, and Toya snapped to the present with no little amount of panic. He wasn't ready. He'd barely learned how to say the words to himself. Then his partner stood, his grip on Toya's hand loosening, and an entirely different type of panic gripped Toya. He couldn't let this slip away. Akito had taught him to fight for his dreams, and this absolutely wasn't what he'd meant, but Toya would follow through, anyway.
“Wait,” he pleaded.
Akito froze. Tension crept back into his shoulders, and he stared staunchly ahead. But he didn't let go.
“Please,” Toya added, softer.
A shudder passed through Akito's body and traveled into their hands. Toya squeezed, begging with words he just couldn't form, and finally, finally, Akito heaved a long sigh and sat. Toya tugged a little, and to his relief, Akito immediately shuffled closer, pressing their knees together and resting their still-laced hands atop them. Akito dodged his gaze, but Toya didn't mind. He wasn't sure he'd manage anything coherent, not as raw as he felt, a bleeding wound in place of his heart.
“Akito,” Toya tried, and his partner shuddered again. Akito looked up at him, and then- stopped. His expression leaped between resignation, then confusion, then landed on a simmering hope, and Toya's mind went blank.
“I was gettin' ready to apologize,” Akito murmured. His voice was soft, so soft, his gaze searching Toya's face with open disbelief, and Toya's free hand started to shake. This couldn't be happening. Could it? “I thought- we see each other every day. I'm not-” Akito scoffed. “Shiraishi says I'm not subtle. And she's right.”
Social cues had never been Toya's forte. It'd never bothered him and rarely got in the way of his life. But now, his mind raced ahead, pinballing between moments he'd convinced himself meant nothing because he was the only one with a secret, the only one who'd wrestled with an impossible want. Akito just stared at him, golden eyes shining.
Toya had never been the impulsive one, either, not compared to his friends. But he leaned forward, as graceless as ever when it came to his partner, and kissed Akito.
The world stopped. He'd never done this before – never entertained the fantasy.
Then Akito made a soft noise, then slipped a hand into Toya's hair, and Toya's world narrowed to their clasped hands, the press of Akito's lips, the thundering of his heart in his ears.
His secret was very simple, yet so complicated: he liked boys. On a technical level, anyway. In practice, he liked exactly one person: his best friend and partner, Akito Shinonome. Toya had had no experience with “liking” people, nor with best friends, so for the first years of knowing each other, he'd misattributed his want to be close to Akito, physically and emotionally, as feelings anyone would have toward their best friend.
At the start of their second year, An and Kohane had been debating Kaito over coffee, and Akito had chuckled, swaying close enough that only Toya would hear.
“They're gonna be at this all day,” Akito had huffed, speaking the words into his shoulder. “Wanna get somethin' to eat?”
It'd been so normal. But Akito's lilting tone had made everything come crashing down around Toya's head, and he'd tumbled down a long road of questioning himself, searching through the internet and immediately deleting the results out of some fervent fear that his parents would find out. He and his father had barely patched up their relationship as it was. Bringing a boyfriend home was a fantasy from a distant future that would never belong to him.
So Toya had stuffed everything down and interrogated what he could manage in bits and pieces, and he'd refused to stray beyond the present, because what could be would've tormented him, one way or another.
They broke apart with a breath, and Toya slammed back into his body. His hand trembled in Akito's, where his partner still gripped him tight, and the fingers in Toya's hair skimmed back and forth, feather light. He couldn't tell if he wanted to lean back or surge forward, and between the two, Akito's eyes pinned him in place, radiant gold and burning with life.
“I meant it,” Toya blurted, and tried to devote Akito's awestruck expression to memory. This was real. This was real. “You're my best partner, Akito. I don't want anyone else.”
Akito flushed a darker red. It looked beautiful on him. “When the hell did you get so confident?”
“I- I'm not. It's just how I feel.”
The admission finally brought Toya back into some semblance of normal functioning, and he exhaled slow and deep, blowing out what remained of their shared dream. He didn't remember details, and he didn't care anymore. He was here, in Tokyo, his closest friends just around the corner and Akito's fingers carding gently through his hair.
Akito cracked a lopsided smile. “I guess we should talk about this. I don't wanna fuck up Vivid BAD SQUAD.”
“We won't,” Toya decided. “We've made it through worse. Besides, if Shiraishi and Azusawa understand, then we won't have any problems.”
Akito blinked. “Oh, did they...”
“I think so.”
A peal of laughter rose from the front of the café. Life didn't stop for them, much as Toya wanted just one moment longer. This time, when Akito rose, he followed, and their hands remained tightly clasped.
“You've got me, y'know,” Akito murmured. “Still. Can we talk tomorrow?”
Toya nodded, swallowing around the nerves thrumming through his whole body. “Of course. I don't think I could right now.”
Akito huffed a humorless noise and guided Toya toward the front. “Me neither.”
Ken had whipped up two coffees for the girls, and if he seemed at all surprised that Akito and Toya still held hands, his expression didn't betray a thing. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that An and Kohane had squeezed into one armchair, An's legs thrown over Kohane's and her eyes brighter than they'd been in months.
Toya only released Akito to drag a third armchair to the table. As soon as they sat, his partner's hand found his beneath the table, fiercely tight. Toya squeezed back and swore to himself that this was real.
“Are we practicing tonight?” An asked. She visibly struggled to set her coffee on the table, and after a moment, Toya took pity and grabbed the cup from her. “Thanks. I don't know if I have homework tonight...”
“Doesn't your teacher give you daily worksheets?” Kohane pitched in.
Akito winced, and An flinched. On a normal day, Toya might've chided them for not keeping up. Today, he made a mental note to ask Mizuki for help in return for all the times he'd caught her up to speed, grimaced as he thought of his haphazard notes, and said nothing.
“Maybe tonight's a night off,” Akito muttered. An inhaled with palpable glee, and he shot her a half-hearted glare. “I don't wanna hear it. You weren't thinkin' about anything else back there.”
“Hey, neither were you–! Hold up your hands!”
Akito sneered and pointedly did not move. His thumb rubbed gentle circles into the back of Toya's hand, and Toya thought he might burst.
“I'll catch you eventually,” An warned. The threat might've landed if she hadn't been curled up in Kohane's lap, and if Kohane didn't look about as intimidating as a cupcake with how blissful her expression was. Already, Akito's mouth twitched in a lazy smirk, and Toya was trying really, really hard not to smile.
In the end, they decided it was most efficient to combine their efforts and study at Weekend Garage. An pulled up a fourth chair, and between combined texts to Kusanagi and Mizuki, they pieced together some semblance of their homework. Kohane reported that Hoshino had pulled through for her, and Toya nodded his approval. From what little Saki had told him about her band, the girls seemed like good people.
And yet, by the second hour, Akito's brow had gotten stuck in a scowl, and An's portion of the table was littered with shreds of eraser. The nature of a study session, Toya supposed.
His phone vibrated when they took a ten-minute breather. He checked it and blinked. Out of everyone in the world, he hadn't expected Mizuki.
Mizuki: u alright now lil' bro in law
Mizuki: you looked pretty bad earlier
Mizuki: and you know
Mizuki: that whole thing with lil' bro
Mizuki: don't think i didn't notice
Mizuki: in return for saving you i want answers~
Toya cracked a smile.
Toya: I'll tell you tomorrow
Mizuki: wahhhh that's no fun
Mizuki: but fineeeeeee go do your work or whatever
Mizuki: u better tell me!!!!!
“Who's that?” Akito asked, halfway through a stretch.
“Akiyama,” Toya said, and tilted his phone toward his partner. Akito surveyed the chat with narrowed eyes, then sat back and snorted.
“It's like she thinks we're entertainment.”
“We are street artists.”
Akito fixed him with an unimpressed look. Toya stifled a laugh.
He'd never imagined that his world would invert in a single day. But, then again, not much had changed. When they stopped for dinner, An kissed Kohane's forehead, and Kohane almost visibly shut down, her cheeks blazing. Once they'd disbanded for the night, well after sunset, Akito and Toya walked home together. At the junction, Akito gently fisted a hand in Toya's jacket and pulled him close.
It was the easiest thing in the world to close his eyes and kiss Akito back.
“See you tomorrow,” his partner promised.
“See you,” Toya returned, breathless.
He woke up the next morning enveloped in warmth. For a few seconds, he gazed up at the ceiling, his heart beating slow and steady. He reached for his phone and found it on the bedside table, fully charged. Toya spared a moment to rub the sleep from his eyes, then tossed his covers back and unplugged his phone.
An, Kohane, Akito. All still in his messages, in the order he'd last messaged them.
An had sent him potential lyrics at an ungodly hour the previous evening. Morning? Regardless, Toya wasn't sure he wanted to wrangle his brain into composer mode so early. Then a new message from Akito appeared, and that pretty much saved him the decision.
Akito: you're already up?
Akito: sleep okay?
Toya: I think so
Toya: I feel rested
Akito: glad to hear it
Akito: it's early enough. want to get breakfast?
Toya beamed for no one to see.
Toya: I'd love to
Akito set him a location – a little shop they'd gotten breakfast at in weekends past – so Toya fired off an affirmative, then set his phone aside.
He arrived at the shop half an hour later. Akito waited outside, absently scrolling through his phone, his weight leaned on one hip. Toya had never let himself indulge, but he could, now – his best friend was stunning. He even made a uniform look put-together, styled, and Toya's heart strained against his ribs.
Akio glanced up, and his mouth twitched. “You didn't fix your hair.”
“I wanted to get here faster,” Toya protested, embarrassed despite himself.
A proper smile spread across Akito's face. He sighed, faux-dramatic, and smoothed Toya's hair down. Toya decided he was allowed to close his eyes and lean into the touch. It was barely 7:30, after all, and the café's front windows were tinted.
“I know I'm the one who said we should talk,” Akito sighed, and Toya blinked. His partner stared off into the early Tokyo morning, cheeks dusted pink. “But I don't know what to say. If you wanna try, so do I.”
“Try what?” Toya asked, lost.
“Bein'... partners.”
“Isn't that what we already are?”
Akito glanced at him, and realization caught up to Toya like a belated breeze. Not much had changed. Wasn't that the point? He'd shared his secret, but that didn't matter. It never had, so long as he kept walking alongside Akito however he could. The details, the fear that'd haunted him like a shadow – he'd deal with that. Being partners was the most natural thing in the world.
“It's that easy?” Akito asked, quietly.
They were still in public, Toya knew, but he allowed himself to reach out and catch Akito's fingers, just for a moment. “It is for me,” he murmured. “I know it likely isn't the same for you. But you're my partner, Akito. I always want to walk beside you.”
Akito grumbled an incoherent noise. Toya had never seen him blush so much, and he was starting to worry seeing his best friend in such a state would keep him permanently distracted. It was no small wonder he hadn't tripped off a sidewalk yet.
“You've been tellin' me this whole time, huh?” Akito muttered.
Toya considered, flicking back through every conversation in their relationship, from benign talks over lunch to every time Akito had dragged the deepest truths out of him. “Yes,” he admitted. Surprise darted through Akito's eyes, and Toya couldn't stifle another embarrassed smile. “I... didn't realize at first. But I've always known you're special to me.”
Akito scrubbed his face. “I'm glad we've got you composin' our songs,” he mumbled, his voice muffled. “You're doin' great at makin' me speechless.”
“It's different with you,” Toya said earnestly, and his heart lit up at Akito's answering snort and hidden smile.
“Well, I'll take your word for it. Alright then, partner. We keep movin' forward together.”
Someday, Toya swore he'd put words to the brilliance burning in his chest. Maybe it'd become a song. For the time being, he brushed his fingers against Akito's again, then led the way into the café. The world did not stop for them, and Toya didn't want to go to school hungry. Akito stuck at his side throughout, and when they settled on the patio to eat, his partner's legs wound through his.
Toya beamed, and Akito ducked his head, a small, quiet smile curving his mouth.
Toya did not, in fact, tell Mizuki a thing. She arrived for homeroom and pulled faces whenever the teacher turned his back, but Toya neatly ignored her and concentrated on making sure his notes were detailed enough to make up for his day of negligence. By lunchtime, Mizuki had resorted to openly glaring at him.
“Hey!” she snapped, catching the strap of his bag. “Nah-uh, you're not leaving without some answers, lil' bro in law! I helped you out!”
“I help you every week,” Toya returned placidly, and Mizuki scrunched up her nose.
“That doesn't count! You promised!”
She trailed into a whine that caught a few amused glances from classmates. Akito chose that moment to open the door and lean into the classroom, and, thanks to Mizuki's performance, no one except Toya and Mizuki herself caught the gleam in Akito's eyes.
“Toya!” he called. “Ready for lunch?”
“Yes. Shall we?”
In a few months, Toya imagined it'd be funny to look back on the fact that Mizuki didn't even blink. She rarely did when it came to them, which was the only reason why Toya was doing this – maybe she understood. Even if she didn't, she was a good friend.
Mizuki narrowed her eyes. Akito's smile edged toward a smirk, and when Mizuki's piercing gaze snapped back to him, Toya met it steadily.
“I'll be back. I'm eating with my partner today.”
Mizuki gasped, all wide-eyed melodrama. “No way. You mean–? No, no, wait, Toya-kun! Can I join you? Please, please!”
Toya glanced at Akito, who only rolled his eyes. “Sure,” he said, fighting a smile, and Mizuki broke out in a broad grin.
“Hah! I knew you liked me!”
“He does,” Akito corrected dryly as Mizuki flounced past. “I wanted to eat alone.”
“Eeeeh, and Toya counts as alone?” Mizuki snickered. “Be nice, lil' bro. You can share him for one day!”
“Not interested.”
“Too bad! He already agreed!”
Toya caught Akito's gaze behind Mizuki's back, and his best friend's expression softened into something like appreciation. Toya stepped closer and brushed his fingers against Akito's again. It was quickly becoming his favorite motion.
The three of them took a little longer than usual to return to their classrooms. They ate as they walked, and when Akito swayed into Toya's side, Mizuki just grinned. She didn't falter, not for a second.
Toya was grateful for her. He'd figure out how to say that, someday, too.
His shift at the library was uneventful, save Tsukasa bursting in and begging for recommendations with thinly-veiled panic. Toya arrived at Weekend Garage almost an hour after his friends had let out, but Akito loitered outside, leaning against the alley wall with his phone in hand.
“What are you doing?” Toya called.
Akito glanced up. “Oh, there you are. Shiraishi and Azusawa are warmin' up.”
“But-”
Akito met him halfway, cupping the back of Toya's head and kissing him. The sliver of Toya's brain that didn't instantly melt into gentle hands marveled at how safe he felt, even in broad daylight. His partner had always made him feel like he could take on the world.
“C'mon,” Akito murmured in the breath between them, and Toya shivered. “They're waitin' on us.”
“R-right.”
The next morning dawned warm and peaceful. A Saturday with no plans except practice. In the fading recesses of sleep, Toya caught glimpses of their shared dream. Something had shaken it out of the darkness of his mind, it seemed, but the harder he thought about it, the more it slipped through his fingers. He only knew what Kohane had: he had moved away, and Vivid BAD SQUAD had dissolved.
Not in this world. Never for them.
Toya snagged his phone and smiled at the notifications from their group chat.
Akito: we should visit the sekai today
Akito: we need to know if something happened to the sprout
Toya left the group chat for An and Kohane to find when they woke up and texted Akito directly.
Toya: I'll meet you in the SEKAI
Akito: got it
Akito: bring a jacket. it's cold today
20 minutes later, Toya played the untitled track, and the world shattered into fragments. When the colors and shapes reformed into a tangible reality, Toya stood outside Crase Café. The scent of Meiko's coffee already diffused into the crisp, morning air, and Toya was fairly certain he heard Rin and Len bickering, interjected by Miku's laughter and Kaito's questions.
But the Virtual Singers could wait. Akito crouched nearby, golden eyes locked on the crystal sky. His attention snapped to Toya, and together, they followed the spray-painted path toward the plaza.
Toya wasn't sure what he'd expected. Maybe damage, maybe a bit of growth. A shared dream – a nightmare, really – had to be related to the SEKAI, one way or another. But he and Akito rounded the corner, and Toya stopped dead. He stared, dumbstruck, and Akito sucked in a long breath.
The sapling had exploded. There was no other way to describe it. A massive oak tree soared over the plaza, dappled shadows dancing across the pavement below. Pops of color streaked through emerald leaves – orange, blue, pink, and teal. Light caught the multi-colored leaves and glittered like miniature fragments of SEKAI. A gentle breeze now graced the plaza, rustling the branches, flapping the hem of Toya's jacket.
“Holy shit,” Akito breathed.
“I'll message Shiraishi and Azusawa,” Toya said faintly, and Akito nodded. Toya pulled his phone from his pocket, snapped a picture, and sent it to the group chat. For a moment, he paused. But he had a sneaking suspicion he knew what'd happened, and awe danced in his partner's eyes. Golden and as radiant as the sun.
Toya took a deep breath, held it, and finished typing.
Toya: We still don't know where our dream came from
Toya: But I think the sapling reacted to our feelings