Work Text:
It had been an accident, Sogo swears.
That doesn’t stop the redhead in front of him from blushing furiously, the centre of attention in a group of four.
“…Rikkun really wrote this?” Tamaki hums contemplatively, sitting completely still as he finishes listening to the song playing in his ears.
“W-well, not exactly!” Riku stammers, sinking into himself and not meeting Sogo, Tamaki, or Iori in the eye. “I just…thought it was a shame that Sogo-san decided not to use that composition, so I just…wrote lyrics for it. I wasn’t really going to show anyone but—”
“Is that why you asked if you could have a sample of that track?” Sogo mutters, remembering the occasion from a week or two ago.
He hadn’t thought much about it then, thinking it was just Riku being nice. Of course, Sogo knew the younger man hadn’t been lying—Riku wasn’t much of a liar, so Sogo had simply been glad someone appreciated a track he had ended up not using.
Still, he hadn’t expected to find…this, either.
Generally, Riku was good about keeping his things in his own room. However, today, rushed to a job by an alarmed Tsumugi as he’d been, Riku had left his laptop open in the common room.
Sogo really had been meaning to close the laptop and continue with the cleaning, but the screen had turned on to a word document showing…poetry.
Theoretically, Sogo should have suspected their resident bookworm to be something of a writer. After all, one couldn’t engage with an excess of art without at least attempting to partake in the artistry. It was how he’d gotten into composing, after all.
Still, the show of poetry had startled him. Before he knew it, he’d read the first few lines before remembering that respect of privacy was important and shut the device.
The lines of poetry that he’d read, however, stayed with him all day as he finished up cleaning. When Riku returned later that afternoon, Sogo hadn’t wasted a moment in both asking about his writing and apologising for glancing at it without permission.
He hadn’t expected Riku to be so bashful about it.
“Ahhhh, w-well, writing’s something I do sometimes to pass the time, you know? Like when we’re waiting or have free time. That’s all. It’s nothing too spectacular,” Riku stammered, the usually cheerful and honest centre uncharacteristically hesitant and cagey.
Sogo had blinked for a moment or two, trying to choose his next words carefully. After all, his mind couldn’t help painfully flashing back to the mess of nerves he’d been when publically telling the rest of IDOLiSH7 that he wanted to try composing music.
“Well, I suppose…but it’s nice to know that Riku-kun has something he likes to do,” Sogo said as mildly as possible, smiling encouragingly. “I certainly wouldn’t mind reading some of your works. At the very least, I’m very curious as to the poem I read the first few lines of…”
Riku’s face had gone up in flames. “Ha…um. Actually, it’s…lyrics.”
“Lyrics?”
“…to Sogo-san’s unused track.”
Sogo nodded, still smiling. “Oh, that sounds—EH??? What?!? Why???”
“I don’t know…but when I was listening to it, I just felt your feelings—maybe because I know you well—and it inspired me.”
Cue Sogo begging Riku to sing the lyrics to the track and them spending the rest of the afternoon and early evening creating a demo, much to Riku’s confusion.
He hadn’t known what was happening. When Sogo got into the mood, he could be scarily intense.
And that brings them to this moment with Iori and Tamaki, who had just come back from their own jobs.
“I like it,” is Tamaki’s final judgment after the 4 agonising minutes of silence.
The sentiment is delivered with the same deadpan sincerity as the time he’d listened to the demo for “Forever Note.”
“…do you?” Riku whispers.
Instead of Tamaki, who merely nods, Iori speaks up. “Yes. Who knew that with your inability for public speaking, you’d be such a poetic writer?”
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Riku retorts, irked and embarrassed and weirdly happy all at once. “You can be honest.”
Iori stares at Riku. “Nanase-san, I am never dishonest when it comes to criticising you, and I am sincere when I say I like this song. It’s a shame it doesn’t really fit MEZZO” or IDOLiSH7's image, but…”
He trails of, their producer clearly deeply in thought now that this new variable has presented itself.
“Iori-kun is right, though, Riku-kun,” Sogo follows up. “You don’t know how happy it makes me that the track was used. And I can’t believe that this is your first time writing lyrics.”
Riku tilts his head. “But it’s not?”
Blinking, Sogo glances at Iori—still deep in thought—and Tamaki—intrigued at the development—before staring at Riku. “It’s not?”
Riku flinches, as if realising what he just said, and laughs nervously, tapping his fingers against the sofa. “I mean, I did say I did a lot of writing during my free time. I’ve actually been writing since I was fairly young. And I don’t always write poems, and most of the ones I wrote when I was younger weren’t that great, anyway. But I used to practice writing lyrics to soundtracks or instrumentals, just in case.”
You can almost see Tamaki’s ears twitching in curiosity. “In case of what?” he asks.
“In case I could be useful to Tenn-nii in some way,” Riku admits, his voice quiet. But a smile slowly grows on his face, bright and fond. “But I’m glad I could make Sogo-san happy through my lyrics. I’ve only really shared some of my writing with friends before I became an idol, and I still sometimes send them things, but this is the first time I’ve shown you guys. And I’m…really, really happy.”
No matter how long the seven of them have been together as IDOLiSH7, Riku’s cheer and sincere gratitude never fails to make them all warm inside. Even Iori stops his contemplation to bask under the warmth a little.
“You should write our lyrics,” Iori suddenly says.
Silence descends on the groups as they wait for Riku to process this.
When he does, he shoots up from the couch, gaping at Iori. “What?!?! I don’t—I don’t know if I could…I don’t know if it’s professional enough or—”
Iori rolls his eyes and cuts him off. “Nanase-san, please. You said you’ve been doing this for years. We used Osaka-san’s first song composed for MEZZO”. I’m sure you’ll do fine, and I think when the others hear this demo, they’ll be happy to oblige.”
Of course, part of Iori did wonder if it was Riku’s natural charm that elevated the song, and perhaps it was. Still, simply scrolling through the lyrics opened in Riku’s laptop was enough to convince him this wasn't a fluke. More than that…
Iori minimises the document with the lyrics to Sogo’s song and hovers the mouse over a folder labelled “writing.”
“Hey! What are you doing?” Riku sputters, alarmed. “You can’t just—”
Without going further, Iori looks up at Riku, dead serious. “But can I?”
Riku makes a small noise before dissolving back into the sofa. “…if you want…but nothing from before this year, please,” he mutters, staring at his lap. “It's only really a friend of two from high school whom I've shared this with. And the ghosts…”
Next to him, Tamaki freezes, whispering, “G-gh-ghosts?”
Sogo ignores his unitmate in favour of pulling him to crowd around Iori, who is silently mining through Riku’s writing files.
While Riku’s fidgeting awkwardly on Iori’s opposite side, all the other three can think is…it’s good.
Really good.
Iori can’t help but wonder if Riku’s charismatic powers had been transferred onto his writing rather than his speaking. The way the redhead wove words together and created a story, an essay, a poem, or even lyrics to a song (so they all find as they listen to a few audio files that have Riku weakly protesting)…it’s like an enchantment woven into letters.
“Woah, Rikkun…I knew you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good,” Tamaki whispers.
Clearly baffled at the comment, Riku stares at Tamaki. “What do you mean?”
“Just that sometimes, when you talk after thinking a lot, your words are really beautiful…you don’t have Mikki’s talent for MCing, but you’re also good with words if you have enough time,” Tamaki points out, surprising all of them at how on-point it actually is.
“Yes, yes! I’ve also found myself moved by Riku-kun’s words,” Sogo agrees cheerfully.
“That’s because of his terrifying powers of appeal,” Iori mutters, mostly to himself.
“I can’t wait to show what you did with my track to the others,” Sogo blissfully continues. Their other three members had been called for a joint project together and had mentioned they’d be late.
“Th-thanks, everyone…” Riku stutters, still a little embarrassed but feeling warm inside from all the sincere praise. “I…can’t wait to show it to the others, too.”
“I wonder if Manager can come up with a way to use this song,” Iori contemplates.
At those words, Riku can’t help but let out a little laugh.
He’s never shared his writing with anyone in the entertainment industry, not even Tenn. Actually, it had been Tenn leaving that had incited Riku to start writing, needing an outlet for his feelings and being unable to express it to his parents, who would scold him whenever he grumbled against his twin. Writing had been more a means to an end, an expression of thoughts that he never dreamed he'd be able to express aloud.
And yet, here he is.
“What’s so funny?” Iori grumbles testily.
Riku laughs again, brighter and clearer.
“Absolutely nothing,” their centre says, still shaking. “It’s just…you guys really do inspire words in me.”