Work Text:
Saki didn’t need a chaperone.
She made that clear the first time, standing by the front door with her tote bag slung over her shoulder and her phone already out, half-typing a message to Shiho. The walk wasn’t far. Maybe ten minutes tops. They did this all the time when they were little, even more now that they were older and band practice was basically their third home.
So when her brother appeared at the front door, shoes on and phone in hand like he’d been ready before she was, she blinked at him.
“You’re coming with me?” she asked.
Tsukasa nodded. “Of course.” He grins as he bumps her shoulder
“…Why?”
He gave her a smile, not the big, stage-worthy one. Just a small one, like he didn’t think it was that strange. “I’m free, aren’t I? It’s nice to get some fresh air.”
Saki didn’t press. Maybe he was bored. He was always a little more relaxed on weekends. And truthfully, having someone to carry the keyboard wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
She didn’t expect it to become a habit.
By the third visit, it was routine. She’d get ready, and he’d already be by the door, tying his shoes. He never gave a reason. Never said anything when she asked why. And, weirdly enough, Shiho didn’t comment either.
But Shizuku did.
The first time they showed up together, Shizuku opened the door, blinked in soft surprise, and said, “Tsukasa? It’s been a while.”
Saki remembered the way his face changed. Not lit up - softened. Like hearing her voice settled something in him. He gave a small bow, hand behind his neck.
“Yeah,” he said. “It has.”
After that, every visit started the same: Shizuku would answer the door, and Tsukasa would say something kind and quiet—always with a little smile, always just for her. It wasn’t loud or obvious. Most people wouldn’t even notice. But Saki did.
She wasn’t sure when she started paying attention to it. Maybe the fifth visit, when she realized Shizuku was always the one opening the door, even when Shiho was right behind her. Or maybe it was when Tsukasa stayed back after they’d all come in, helping Shizuku set out tea before joining the rest of them in the music room.
It was subtle. Normal. But it wasn’t nothing.
And it definitely wasn’t for her.
Saki sat on Shiho’s bed, scrolling through her phone between practice breaks, eyes flicking toward the hallway where Tsukasa’s voice carried in low tones. It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t even romantic. Just familiar. Warm. Like they’d done this a hundred times before.
Which admittedly, is fair.. Back when she was just 6, Tsukasa and Shizuku used to play in the park together..
But it's strange. Why suddenly, after Saki had gone to visit Shiho dozens of times, only now does he follow along?
Could something else be at play? She doesn't know.
-
Shizuku stood near the kitchen sink, two cups set out in front of her, steam rising in lazy curls. She added sugar to one, stirred it carefully, and glanced over her shoulder when she heard footsteps behind her.
Tsukasa appeared in the doorway like he belonged there. No announcement, no grand entrance - just presence. He stepped beside her, picked up the second mug like it was routine.
Maybe it was.
He took a sip and gave a soft, thoughtful hum. “Still sweet.” He smiles gently
“You always say that,” she said, looking up at him with that gentle and beautiful smile of hers.
It filled his chest full of warmth. A gentle warmth.
“It’s still true.”
Their shoulders didn’t touch, but they were close. Closer than most people stood while pretending to be casual.
Through the half-open sliding door, voices floated from the living room - Saki’s soft laugh, Shiho’s low response. The younger sisters were absorbed in something, but not far enough that Shizuku and Tsukasa could talk freely.
Maybe that was part of the tension.
“I think they’ve noticed,” Tsukasa said quietly, glancing toward the door.
Shizuku turned slightly. “Noticed what?”
He paused, then smiled to himself like he didn’t need to answer. She didn’t press.
Instead, she stepped back to the counter, picked up her own cup. “Shiho’s been looking at me weird lately.”
“Saki too,” he said. “She’s gotten... suspicious.”
“She is suspicious,” Shizuku corrected, sipping her tea.
He huffed a laugh, holding his mug between both hands. “It’s not my fault I like visiting.”
“You always have.”
“You always let me.”
That made her glance over at him. His tone wasn’t teasing anymore - just soft. Knowing.
A pause settled over them. The room felt quieter somehow, like the tea had absorbed the noise.
“You’re not really here to accompany Saki, are you?” she asked, teasingly. She knows what she's doing.
Tsukasa looked at her then, fully. “Would it be bad if I said no?”
Her lips curved, faint but undeniable. “I didn’t say that.”
Another silence. Comfortable. The kind that feels more like a shared thought than a gap in conversation.
He leaned back against the counter beside her, shoulder brushing hers this time. She didn’t move away.
“You think they’ll ask?” he murmured.
She tilted her head toward him. “Eventually.”
“They’re not wrong.”
“No,” she said quietly. “They’re not.”
The warmth of the tea seeped through her hands. Or maybe it was the warmth of him, standing just close enough to notice. Just far enough to pretend.
Tsukasa stared into his cup for a moment, then nudged her gently with his elbow. “If they do ask, what should I say?”
Shizuku raised her eyebrows. “You don’t already know?”
He gave her a crooked smile, something playful flickering in his eyes. “I like hearing your answer.”
She didn’t answer right away. Just held his gaze a second longer than polite, then said, “You could say whatever you want.”
“Would that include-”
The sound of footsteps in the hallway cut him off. Shizuku stepped back almost instinctively, and Tsukasa straightened like they’d just been talking about tea.
Saki poked her head around the corner. “You two okay here, or are you secretly planning world domination in there?”
Tsukasa recovered first, flashing his usual easy grin. “World domination takes time and focus, Saki. We’re still in the planning stages.”
Shizuku just smiled politely, walking past them both and into the living room.
Saki narrowed her eyes, like she wanted to say something more, but let it go.
Tsukasa lingered for half a second before following.
-
Saki glanced up from her phone just as Shizuku stepped back into the room. A few seconds later, Tsukasa followed. Not rushed. Not flustered. Just... calm. Too calm.
Shiho caught the same thing, apparently. Her eyes narrowed for half a second before she returned to scrolling.
Saki looked at her sideways, lips twitching. “They’re weird.”
“They always have been,” Shiho replied, glancing away, seemingly not seeming to care MUCH, but there was a slight edge of thought in her voice now.
They didn’t have proof. Just a growing list of moments. Looks. Timing.
No one said anything else, but when Tsukasa offered to “help clean up,” Saki almost laughed.
They were bad at hiding things.
But honestly? It was kind of cute.
-
The last of the dishes clinked into the sink. Shizuku dried her hands on a towel and turned to find Tsukasa already watching her from the doorway.
“Thanks,” she said, soft.
“For what?” he asked.
She thought for a second. “For always knowing when to step in. Even when I don’t ask.” She looks up from the counter, smiling at him gently
He leaned against the doorframe, casual in posture but not in the way his eyes lingered on her.
“You do ask,” he said. “Just not with words.”
That made her look at him, really look. And for once, she didn’t glance away.
They stood there, caught in a moment that wasn’t new—but felt sharper now. Realer.
“I think they know,” she said.
“Probably,” he replied.
A pause. Long enough to choose honesty or deflection. He chose something in between.
“I’m not really trying to hide it,” he added. “I just like that this is ours. For now.”
Shizuku stepped a little closer, folding the towel neatly. “It still is.”
He smiled - not bright, not dramatic. Just warm. Quiet.
Their hands touched at the counter, knuckles first. Then fingers. No one looked away.
Because In the grand scheme of things, Some things don’t need to be said to be understood.