Chapter Text
The rooftop of Kamiyama High was unusually quiet, save for the distant sound of the brass band practicing and the hum of the city. Akito leaned against the railing, a half-eaten pancake in his hand. Next to him, Tsukasa Tenma was—as usual—vibrating with an energy that seemed to defy the laws of physics.
"And then, Akito! Rui suggested we use a literal catapult for the next show! A catapult! Can you imagine the grandeur? The sheer scale of my entrance!" Tsukasa gestured wildly, his golden-orange hair catching the midday sun.
Akito let out a huff that was somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. "You’d probably end up stuck in a tree, Tsukasa. Or the river."
"A star does not get 'stuck,' Akito. We simply find new stages to grace with our presence!" Tsukasa turned to him, his expression softening into that bright, unabashedly kind smile he only reserved for those close to him. "But enough about my artistic endeavors. You’ve been quiet today. Are you tired? If the practice for your next event is too grueling, you must tell me!"
Akito looked at him—really looked at him. Tsukasa was vibrant, loud, and incredibly steady. Being with Tsukasa was like standing in a warm spotlight. It was a stark contrast to the quiet, often tumultuous relationship he’d had years ago.
"I'm fine," Akito said, reaching out to ruffle Tsukasa’s hair. "Just thinking about the setlist. Don't worry about it."
"Hm! If you say so!" Tsukasa leaned into the touch, his eyes closing briefly. It was a small, domestic gesture. To anyone watching, they were the picture of a stable, happy couple. They had been dating for a few months now, and the transition from "annoying senior" to "boyfriend" had been surprisingly seamless for Akito.
Later that afternoon, they met up with the others near the school gates. An and Kohane were laughing about something, while Toya stood by, looking at them with his usual calm fondness.
"Yo, Akito! Tsukasa-senpai!" An called out, waving them over. "We're going to Weekend Garage. You guys coming?"
"I have rehearsal with Nene and Rui shortly," Tsukasa lamented, placing a dramatic hand on his chest. "A star's work is never finished!"
"I'll head over with you guys," Akito said, nodding to Toya.
As Tsukasa headed off toward the practice stages, he turned back and shouted, "I'll call you tonight, Akito! Take care of yourself!"
Akito watched him go until Tsukasa was just a speck of bright color in the distance.
"You guys seem to be doing well," Toya remarked quietly as they started walking.
"Yeah," Akito replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. "He's easy to be around. It’s... good. It’s consistent."
"Consistent is important to you," Toya noted.
Akito didn't respond. He focused on the rhythm of his footsteps. Everything was perfect. The relationship was healthy, his partner was devoted, and the "conflict" of his past felt like a lifetime ago. He had moved on. He was sure of it.
Yet, as they walked past a small flower shop—the one that sold those specific white lilies Hina used to like—Akito felt a familiar, dull ache in his chest. It was gone in a second, replaced by the memory of Tsukasa’s loud laughter, but for a fleeting moment, the air felt a little thinner.
"Akito? You alright?" An asked, peering at his face. "You look like you saw a ghost."
"Just the wind," Akito lied, forcing a smirk. "Come on, I'm starving. Let’s go."
Everything was normal. Everything was exactly where it was supposed to be.
Akito didn't follow the group to Weekend Garage immediately. He told Toya he’d catch up in ten minutes, claiming he’d forgotten a notebook in his locker. It was a lie, but Toya didn't question him.
Akito walked back into the school building. The hallways were mostly empty now, the air smelling of floor wax and the lingering scent of the afternoon sun hitting the windows. He found himself walking slower than usual.
He liked Tsukasa. He really did. Tsukasa was the kind of person who filled up a room, leaving no space for Akito to sink into his own head. When he was with Tsukasa, he was focused on the present—on the loud voice, the theatrical gestures, and the genuine care. It was a relief. It was supposed to be a fresh start.
He reached his locker and opened it, staring at nothing. His phone buzzed.
Tsukasa: I made it to the stage! Rui is already looking at me with that "I have an experiment" look in his eyes. Wish me luck, Akito! I shall return a hero!
Akito stared at the screen. He felt a small, subconscious tug to smile, but his thumb hovered over the keyboard. He started typing "Good luck, don’t let him kill you," but then he stopped.
His fingers moved on autopilot, tracing the letters of a nickname he hadn’t used in two years. Hi—
He stopped, his heart doing a weird, uncomfortable thud against his ribs. He deleted the draft immediately, his grip tightening on his phone. Where the hell did that come from? he thought, a cold sweat pricking his neck. He shook his head, typed a quick "Yeah, good luck," and shoved the phone back in his pocket.
He closed his locker and leaned his forehead against the cool metal. He was just tired. That was the explanation he gave himself. The 'conflict' with Hina had been messy—lots of yelling, lots of misunderstandings about his dedication to music versus her wanting more of his time, and eventually, a silent breakup that left him feeling hollowed out. It had taken him a long time to stop checking his phone for her messages.
But he had stopped. He had moved on. He was dating the most famous senior at Kamiyama High.
As he walked back out toward the gates, he ran into Mizuki and Nene near the fountain. Mizuki was busy showing Nene something on their phone, while Nene looked characteristically tired.
"Oh, Lil-bro! Still at school?" Mizuki chirped, waving a hand decked out in accessories. "I thought you'd be off playing house with our Star by now."
"We aren't 'playing house,'" Akito grumbled, though there wasn't much bite in it. "He's at practice. I'm heading to the cafe."
Nene looked up from Mizuki’s phone. "You look tired, Shinonome-kun. Did Tsukasa wear you out already? He was particularly... high-energy this morning."
"Tell me about it," Akito said, leaning against a pillar. "He doesn't have an off switch. But it’s fine. Better than someone who doesn't talk at all."
"True," Nene muttered. "Just make sure he actually listens to you sometimes. He gets carried away."
"He listens," Akito said, and he meant it. Tsukasa was a surprisingly good listener when things got serious.
"Anyway," Mizuki jumped in, "we're heading to the mall to look at some new ribbons. You should come next time! Bring Tsukasa-senpai, he's great at picking out the most 'flashy' things."
"I'll pass on the ribbons, thanks," Akito said.
He bid them goodbye and finally made his way toward Weekend Garage. The walk was familiar, every crack in the sidewalk etched into his memory. But as he walked, he found his mind wandering again. He passed a convenience store where he used to buy strawberry milk for Hina every Tuesday because she liked the brand they stocked there.
He walked past it without stopping, but his eyes lingered on the glass door for a second too long.
When he reached the cafe, the bell chimed as he entered. The smell of coffee and fried food hit him, usually a comforting scent. An was already behind the counter, helping her dad, while Toya and Kohane were tucked away in their usual corner booth.
"There he is!" An called out. "Toya said you were coming. You want the usual?"
"Yeah," Akito said, sliding into the booth across from Toya.
"Everything okay?" Toya asked quietly, noticing the way Akito was tapping his fingers rhythmically on the table.
"Yeah. Just school stuff. Exams are coming up," Akito lied again. It was becoming a habit today.
He spent the next hour talking about music, about their next event, and about the technicalities of a new song they were covering. It was safe. It was easy. But every time his phone buzzed, a small part of him expected a different name to pop up on the lock screen.
When he finally got home that night, he lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. His room was dark, save for the light from the streetlamp outside. He took his phone out and scrolled through his photos. He had deleted the pictures of her months ago, but the "Recently Deleted" folder had been emptied long ago too. There was nothing left of her.
He opened his chat with Tsukasa. He scrolled up, looking at the messages from the past week.
"I bought you a ginger ale."
"Don’t forget your scarf, it’s cold."
"I love you, Akito! Sleep well!"
Tsukasa was so loud, even in text. He was so there.
Akito felt a wave of guilt. He closed his eyes and tried to visualize Tsukasa’s face—the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the way he looked when he was focused on a script. He focused on that until the image of long, dark hair and a soft voice started to fade into the background.
"It's just a phase," Akito whispered to the empty room. "I'm just adjusting."
He texted Tsukasa back. "Night. See you tomorrow."
He fell asleep thinking he had it under control. He didn't realize that the human brain is a fickle thing, and memories don't care about who you're currently dating.
———
The following morning, the sun bled through the curtains of Akito’s room, hitting him right in the eyes. He groaned, rolling over to check his phone. It was 6:45 AM. He had three missed texts from Tsukasa, all sent within five minutes of each other around 6:30.
Tsukasa: GOOD MORNING, AKITO! The sun is shining, and so is the future of theater!
Tsukasa: I’ve decided to try a new vocal warm-up today. Saki says I sound like a dying seagull, but she simply doesn't understand the grit required for the stage!
Tsukasa: I’ll be at the school gates early. Don’t be late!
Akito stared at the screen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He felt a familiar sense of exhaustion, but it wasn't the bad kind. It was the kind of exhaustion you get from a puppy that won't stop jumping on you. It was endearing, mostly.
He got up, got dressed in his school uniform, and headed downstairs. Ena was already in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee and looking like she hadn't slept a wink.
"You're up early," she muttered, not looking away from her phone.
"Tsukasa’s being loud through text," Akito replied, grabbing a piece of toast.
Ena glanced up, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You guys are still going strong, huh? I honestly didn't think you’d last this long with someone that... intense."
"He's not that bad once you get used to it," Akito said, leaning against the counter.
"Better than the last one, I guess," Ena said offhandedly, taking a sip of her coffee. "At least this one doesn't make you mope around the house for three months because you had an argument about 'priorities.'"
Akito froze for a second, his teeth sinking into the toast. He didn't look at her. "I didn't mope."
"You did. You were insufferable. 'Oh, she doesn't understand my passion, Ena. Oh, I think we're drifting apart, Ena,'" she mimicked in a deep, mocking tone. "I'm glad you're over that. You’re less of a pain to be around now."
"Shut up," Akito said, but there was no venom in it. He finished his toast, grabbed his bag, and headed out.
The walk to Kamiyama High was brisk. The morning air was crisp, and Akito found himself checking his reflection in a shop window, making sure his hair wasn't too messy. He didn't usually care this much, but Tsukasa had a way of noticing the smallest details.
As he approached the school gates, he saw a shock of blonde and peach hair. Tsukasa was standing there, chest puffed out, talking animatedly to a very confused-looking freshman who probably just wanted to get to class.
"Tsukasa," Akito called out.
Tsukasa’s head snapped over, and his face lit up instantly. He abandoned the freshman (who scurried away looking relieved) and marched over to Akito.
"Akito! You’re here! Exactly on time! A trait of a true professional!" Tsukasa beamed, reaching out to grab Akito’s arm.
"Yeah, yeah. Stop shouting, it's too early for this," Akito grumbled, though he didn't pull away.
They walked into the courtyard together. It was the peak of arrival time, so the area was crowded. They passed by the shoe lockers where they ran into Rui. The tall, purple-haired boy was leaning against a wall, tinkering with a small metallic device that looked suspiciously like it could explode.
"Good morning, Tsukasa-kun, Shinonome-kun," Rui greeted them, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Tsukasa-kun, I’ve been thinking about the pulley system for the second act—"
"No! No more pulleys until we discuss the safety harness!" Tsukasa countered, launching into a debate.
Akito stood back, watching them. He felt a bit like an outsider to their theater world, but he didn't mind. He liked seeing Tsukasa passionate. However, as he stood there, his gaze drifted toward the school entrance.
A girl walked in. She had long, dark hair, tied back in a low ponytail. For a heartbeat—just one—Akito’s heart stopped. He thought it was Hina. His hand instinctively reached for the strap of his bag, tightening. He felt a cold sweat prickle the back of his neck.
Then, the girl turned around to talk to a friend. It wasn't her. The face was completely different.
Akito let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
"Akito?"
He blinked, snapping back to reality. Tsukasa was looking at him, his brow furrowed in genuine concern. Rui was watching him too, his expression uncharacteristically unreadable.
"You went pale for a second," Tsukasa said, stepping closer. He reached out, pressing the back of his hand to Akito’s forehead. "Are you coming down with something? You didn't catch a cold from the wind yesterday, did you?"
"I'm fine," Akito said, swatting Tsukasa’s hand away, though not unkindly. "Just didn't sleep well. Ena was being annoying."
"If you're unwell, you must rest! A performer's health is paramount!" Tsukasa insisted, but he stepped back, giving Akito space.
"I said I'm fine, Tsukasa. Let's just go to class."
As they headed toward their respective rooms, Akito felt a lingering sense of unease. Why was he seeing her everywhere? It had been years. They weren't even in the same city anymore as far as he knew.
He sat through his first few periods in a daze. During math, he found himself doodling on the corner of his notebook—not lyrics, but patterns that looked like the embroidery on a scarf Hina had given him once. He caught himself and scribbled over it until the paper almost tore.
Lunchtime rolled around, and he met Toya on the roof. They ate in their usual spot. Toya was quiet, as usual, which Akito appreciated.
"You're distracted today, Akito," Toya said after a long silence.
"Is it that obvious?" Akito asked, picking at his food.
"To me, yes. You've been staring at that same piece of ginger for five minutes."
Akito looked down. Toya was right. He sighed and put his chopsticks down. "I keep thinking about stuff. Old stuff. It's nothing."
"Old stuff can be heavy," Toya remarked, looking out at the horizon. "Is it about the group? Or something else?"
"Something else. Just... past mistakes, I guess. I thought I'd cleared my head, but I guess some things take longer to fade out."
Toya nodded. "If you want to talk about it, I'm here. But if it's about Tsukasa-senpai, I think he'd prefer if you were honest with him."
"It's not about him. Not really," Akito muttered.
But that was the problem. It was about him. Because every time Akito looked at Tsukasa’s bright, earnest face, he felt a pang of guilt that a small corner of his mind was still occupied by a ghost. He felt like he was keeping a secret, even though he wasn't doing anything wrong.
He spent the rest of the day trying to be the "perfect" boyfriend. He walked Tsukasa to his classroom after lunch, he bought him a drink from the vending machine, and he listened to him talk about his script for twenty minutes straight.
By the time the final bell rang, Akito felt exhausted. Not from the schoolwork, but from the constant effort of pushing his own thoughts down.
"Are you coming to practice today?" Toya asked as they packed their bags.
"Yeah," Akito said, standing up. "I need the distraction. Let’s go hit the gym or something before we head to the cafe. I need to move."
"Alright," Toya agreed.
As they walked out of the classroom, Akito saw Tsukasa waiting in the hallway, leaning against a locker. He was looking at his phone, a soft, content smile on his lips. When he saw Akito, he waved enthusiastically.
"Akito! I was just about to message you! Are you heading to practice now?"
"Yeah," Akito said, walking over. "You have theater stuff?"
"Indeed! We're doing a full run-through of the first act. It’s going to be magnificent!" Tsukasa stepped closer, lowering his voice slightly so Toya wouldn't hear. "I'll see you later tonight? Maybe I can stop by your place?"
Akito looked at him. The sunset was hitting Tsukasa’s face, making his eyes look like amber. He looked so happy. So present.
"Sure," Akito said, forcing a smile. "I'll see you later."
He watched Tsukasa walk away, his cape-like cardigan fluttering behind him. Akito wanted to feel that same simple happiness. He wanted to be as "present" as Tsukasa was. But as he turned to follow Toya, he found himself wondering if Hina still wore her hair in that same low ponytail.
He hated himself for it.
Practice that afternoon was intense, which was exactly what Akito needed. He threw himself into the choreography, pushing his body until his lungs burned and his shirt was damp with sweat. Every time his mind drifted toward a memory of a quiet afternoon in a different park with a different person, he forced himself to focus on the beat, the rhythm, and Toya’s steady presence beside him.
"You're pushing yourself hard today, Akito," An remarked during a break, wiping her forehead with a towel. "I mean, you're always hardworking, but you're acting like you're trying to outrun something."
"Just want the next show to be perfect," Akito replied shortly, grabbing his water bottle. He took a long swig, the cold water grounding him. "We can't afford to get complacent."
Kohane smiled softly. "I think we're doing great. But don't overdo it, okay? We need you in one piece."
Akito gave a curt nod and went back to the center of the floor. He didn't want to talk. Talking led to questions, and questions led to him having to acknowledge the weird, lingering fog in his brain.
By the time they finished and cleaned up the practice space, it was already dark outside. The group split up at the train station. Toya stayed with Akito for a bit, both of them standing on the platform in comfortable silence.
"Are you sure you're okay with Tsukasa-senpai coming over tonight?" Toya asked as his train approached. "You look like you're about to collapse."
"I'll be fine. He’s... he’s good for a distraction," Akito said. He realized how bad that sounded the moment it left his mouth. "I mean, he cheers me up. You know how he is."
Toya nodded, though his eyes remained observant. "Goodnight, Akito."
The walk home from the station was quiet. Akito walked past the park where he and Hina had officially ended things. He tried not to look at the bench near the weeping willow, but his eyes moved there anyway. It was empty. The streetlights flickered, casting long, distorted shadows on the pavement. He picked up his pace.
When he reached his house, he saw a bright yellow Vespa—well, it wasn't a Vespa, but a very brightly colored bicycle—parked out front. Tsukasa was already there, sitting on the porch steps, humming a tune from a musical Akito didn't recognize.
"You're late! A star has been waiting in the wings for at least ten minutes!" Tsukasa joked, standing up and dusting off his pants.
"I told you I had practice," Akito said, unlocking the front door. "Come in. Ena’s probably in her room, so try to keep the 'star' volume down to a minimum."
"I shall be as quiet as a mouse! A very theatrical mouse!" Tsukasa whispered loudly.
They went up to Akito’s room. It was a typical teenage boy's room—posters of musicians on the walls, a desk cluttered with lyric sheets and headphones, and a bed that was only half-made. Tsukasa made himself at home, sitting on the floor and leaning against the bed frame.
"So! How was practice? Did you master that new transition Toya-kun was worried about?" Tsukasa asked, looking up at him with genuine interest.
Akito sat at his desk, spinning his chair around to face him. "Yeah, we got it. It took a few tries, but Toya’s a quick learner. What about you? Did the pulley system work?"
Tsukasa launched into a detailed explanation of the rehearsal. He talked about Rui’s inventions, Nene’s incredible vocals, and how he had almost tripped over a prop sword but managed to turn it into a "calculated bow."
As Tsukasa talked, Akito found himself watching his mouth move. He was trying to listen—he really was—but the more Tsukasa spoke, the more Akito’s brain began to compare.
Hina used to speak softly. You had to lean in to hear her. She didn't use her hands this much. She was like a quiet melody, while Tsukasa is a brass band.
He felt a sudden, sharp jab of irritation at himself. Stop it. Just shut up and listen to him.
"Akito? You're doing it again," Tsukasa said, his voice dropping an octave. The playfulness was gone, replaced by that keen intuition he occasionally showed.
"Doing what?"
"Staring through me. You’re looking at me, but you’re not seeing me. Is something wrong? If it’s about the group, or if I’m being too much, you can tell me. I know I can be... overwhelming."
Akito felt a pang of guilt. Tsukasa was so self-aware, despite his persona. He was trying so hard to be a good partner.
"It's not you," Akito said, his voice softer now. He got off his chair and sat on the floor next to Tsukasa. "I've just had a lot on my mind. Old memories. Stuff that doesn't matter anymore."
Tsukasa looked at him for a long moment, then reached out and took Akito’s hand. His palm was warm, his grip firm and grounding. "The past can be a noisy neighbor, Akito. But you're living in the present now. And in the present, you have me! And Toya! And your music!"
Akito looked at their joined hands. Tsukasa’s fingers were calloused from handling props and stage equipment. Hina’s hands had been small and soft.
He squeezed Tsukasa’s hand, trying to anchor himself to the here and now. "Yeah. I know."
"Good!" Tsukasa squeezed back, his usual grin returning. "Now, I brought some snacks! Saki made these cookies, and she insisted you have some because you 'look like you don't eat enough vegetables.' I told her cookies aren't vegetables, but she wouldn't listen!"
Akito chuckled, a real one this time. "She’s not wrong about the vegetables."
They spent the next hour eating cookies and talking about mundane things—school projects, the weather, a new clothing brand Mizuki had recommended. It was nice. It was the kind of evening that should have made Akito feel completely at peace.
When it was time for Tsukasa to leave, Akito walked him to the door. The night air was chilly.
"I'll see you at school tomorrow?" Tsukasa asked, pulling on his jacket.
"Yeah. See you then."
Tsukasa leaned in and gave him a quick, chaste kiss on the cheek. It smelled like the citrus cologne he always wore. "Goodnight, Akito! Sleep well!"
"Night, Tsukasa."
Akito watched him bike away, his red tail-light disappearing down the street. He went back inside, closed the door, and leaned his back against it.
He felt okay. For the first time all day, the fog felt like it was lifting. He went upstairs, brushed his teeth, and climbed into bed. He was tired enough that he thought he’d fall asleep instantly.
But as he lay there in the dark, the silence of the house felt heavy. He reached for his phone and, without thinking, opened his browser. He didn't search for anything. He just stared at the blank search bar.
He wanted to look her up. Just to see if she was okay. Just to see if she had changed her profile picture.
He turned the phone off and threw it across the bed.
"Get a grip," he muttered to himself.
He closed his eyes and tried to think of the citrus smell of Tsukasa’s cologne. He tried to think of the warmth of Tsukasa’s hand. He fell asleep eventually, but his dreams were a messy blur of orange and black, of loud laughter and whispered goodbyes, and a name he wasn't supposed to be thinking about anymore.