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1.
"Okay, everybody gather around!" The performance director's voice booms through the large studio. "I'll introduce you to your dancers."
Sungchan rolls his head back, waiting for that familiar crack and pop. After a couple of stretches and a few more shakes to get the jitters out of his hands, he's good to go, walking up to the front of the room.
The dancers form a single file and each one takes a step forward as their names are called. Every cursory bow is met with Sungchan's own. As they reach the end of the line, his eyes land on a sprightly looking guy, someone who looks no older than himself. Another dancer is whispering in his ear and he reacts with a slap to the other's chest, snickering quietly.
"And lastly," the director trails, beckoning the guy over, "Shotaro."
Now with a name, Shotaro runs up to the front, bowing his head to the rest of the group the whole way. When he finally raises it, Sungchan is struck by his bright smile, how his cheeks bunch up as his eyes fold into crescent moons.
"Yoroshiku onegaishimasu," Shotaro says, giving everybody one last lengthy bow, shaggy hair falling all over his face.
"He's new. Our youngest. Go easy on him," their director states, before tossing Shotaro back like a bird teaching their newborns how to fly. "We only have two hours in this studio before the next team comes, so I've paired everyone up to go over the details."
Names get rattled off the list and one by one Sungchan watches as his members quickly head off to various corners of the room, assigned dancers in tow. As their numbers dwindle, he finds himself alone, the last member standing, with only other other person left in the circle. It's easy to put two-and-two together. Without even waiting for the director's orders, he exchanges bows with Shotaro then walk towards an empty spot.
"I watch first," Shotaro says in clear English. Sungchan has, thankfully, picked up enough of it to understand. Being around Mark has its benefits. "Okay?"
He nods. The other takes this as a cue and begins his count.
The end of the year always brings a little extra work, a dozen or so schedules all requiring their own special touch ups to the choreography. It all starts to blur at some point. Sungchan does his best to recall the moves, relying on muscle memory and intuition to get through most of it, but choreography has never been his strong suit. Shotaro's gaze in the mirror tells him as much, and it's clear his instructor's got his work cut out for him.
After a first pass, Shotaro gets up from where he's squatting on the floor and stands by his side, imitating Sungchan's opening stance. He starts his count again, slower this time, and they both hit the first few moves only for the other stop him midway.
"Okay?"
Sungchan realizes that it's a question, that Shotaro has his arms reaching out waiting for permission to touch him, so he gives his approval. The other moves closer, grabbing his arm and adjusting its direction ever so slightly. When Sungchan looks at the mirror, he can see how wrong his angle was the first time around. On his own accord, he repeats the movement, making sure to land it the right way.
Applause comes after, Shotaro giddy with approval. "Good, good!" For his successful attempt, Sungchan is awarded two thumbs up and another chance to see that smile. It's a refreshing change of pace from the usual look of disappointment.
"Good?" he parrots.
"Yes!"
It's not apparent to him at first, but when Sungchan looks back in the mirror, his smile is just as big. Maybe bigger.
They go through the rest of the choreography in the same fashion, Shotaro's keen eye quick to spot any of his missteps and Sungchan eager to fix them. When he does, he gets the same upbeat response, each one just as earnest as the last. Either he's a quick learner or Shotaro's an easily impressed teacher, but it's reassuring to be praised for even the smallest things. In their short time, Sungchan's already learned to chase the high, but then again he's always been a bit of a people pleaser.
After twenty minutes of one-on-one practice, the director gathers them again to do a proper run-through. Now, he approaches things with a newfound confidence, the ease of his movements managing to impress even himself. He makes it to the end without a single mistake, and in a breathless state, he searches for Shotaro's face in the crowd so he can give him double high-fives. The other laughs at the sudden gesture, an airy high pitch that matches his impish features. Sungchan thinks it would be nice to hear more of that too.
"You make a great combo," Jungwoo utters when Sungchan makes his way over to him. In his hands is a water bottle, which Sungchan gladly takes as he slides to the floor. "We should hire him full-time."
He downs a much-needed glug, nearly finishing the bottle in one go, then wipes the rest from his lips with the back of his hand. "Hyung," he grins, "have you ever considered that you're just a bad teacher?"
"Brat." Jungwoo sticks his tongue out. It's meant to be playful but it's mostly just gross. Sungchan does the same. "Seriously, though, I've never seen you pick up something this fast."
"He's good. Knows what to fix. Keeps me motivated."
"Would have made a great partner for you then." The other gazes into the sea of people, eyes landing on Shotaro. Sungchan would know because he's already been staring. "Did you know he auditioned for the company?"
"He did?"
"That's what the director told me. Apparently, he made it pretty far, too. Casting team must have been smoking something to reject him."
In the middle of the room, a circle starts forming, and in its center is Shotaro, freestyling a dance to one of their songs. A few of his members are there too, and when he throws in some of the original moves, they whoop and holler his way.
"That sucks," Sungchan laments. "He's the exact kind of guy they're always looking for. Affable. Charismatic."
"And easy on the eyes, right?"
Sungchan turns to him, a single brow raised. He's hoping it reads as unimpressed as he wants it to be.
"What?" Jungwoo shrugs. "Just saying."
If Sungchan's eyes could roll to back of his head, they would be doing that now. "Don't make it weird."
"I'm not." He hears the other snort, then a soft force slapping him on the back. "Though if you think that, it probably says more about you than it does me."
Jungwoo escapes being crushed in his arms, but only barely, then flees the scene with a cackle. Sungchan is almost on his trail when a large shadow suddenly looms over. He looks up to find the subject of their discussion staring right at him, a curious expression on his face. After appearing from thin air, Shotaro slowly crouches down so they're at level, maintaining his balance by bringing his knees as close to his chest as possible. Sungchan blinks, trying his best not to think about their distance. Or lack thereof.
"Sungchan-ssi," Shotaro says, the folds of his eyes crinkling, "dance?"
That's when he notices it: nearly everyone in the circle looking at him, waiting for him to join their impromptu cipher. He nods Shotaro's way and gets up with his help. With their hands still clasped, he feels a squeeze, and then, there it is again: Shotaro's beaming face—a little lower now, what with their height difference—looking at him like he's the only person in the room. Maybe it's his imagination. Maybe it's his secret wish. Maybe Jungwoo needs to stop putting things in his brain.
Shotaro starts him off with a few steps to copy as a warm-up, but it's not long before he's handing over the spotlight so Sungchan can bust out some moves of his own. He's not the world's greatest dancer, sure, but he's not helpless either, and everyone cheers him on as he lets the rhythm guide his body. For the next few minutes, he allows himself to enjoy the attention.
Eventually, the director breaks the party up so they can go back to work. Their final half-hour is spent fine-tuning details, making sure everyone's movements are both camera-ready and stage-worthy. Now that Sungchan's shown his capabilities, he's being pushed a little harder, expected to be snappier, cleaner, and more in control of his limbs. Some part of Sungchan is determined to prove that he can. When he catches Shotaro's eyes in the mirror, a smile directed his way in response, he likes to think that he has.
Time is up sooner than he would like, and before he knows it, they're already saying their goodbyes for the day. Sungchan tries to sneak in a couple more thank yous before a manager notices he's stalling, before they can drag him by his collar into the van so they can head back to the hotel. The last thing he sees is that sweet, sweet smile again as the other waves his way.
The streets of Osaka pass by in a blur outside the window and the studio fades from the rear-view. On the ride home, Sungchan thinks. He thinks about what Jungwoo said, about the possibility Shotaro could have been one of them. How they could have been on the same team, could have been friends, could have been "partners." It's a weird thing to think about, because he already has more than he could ask for, but he thinks anyway.
(And tonight, he'll look through Shotaro's SNS, scrolling and scrolling until he falls asleep to the sound of one of his TikToks, the loop of an unfamiliar R&B song serving as the soundtrack to his dreams. And tomorrow, he'll try to strike up a conversation with Shotaro, do something more than just share glances, maybe even get his number, but in the chaos of backstage, between the makeup artists, the stylists, the production crew, and god knows who else, he'll keep missing the timing. And the day after, as they wait in the lounge for their flight back home, he'll ask their manager when the next schedule in Japan is, and he'll maybe slip in a suggestion about inviting the dance crew again, either as part of the show or as personal guests, but it won't happen because schedules don't line up and eventually everyone moves on. And for the rest of Sungchan's life, he'll keep coming back to this moment, when he met someone that had a chance at being in his life, and wonders what could have been.)
2.
There's a particular spot in the SM headquarters, on an otherwise empty floor that houses only a few small teams, down a number of hallways, past several turns, behind a locked door that never really is, which might be the only place in the entire building one can afford themselves some peace and quiet.
It's not Sungchan's secret. Haechan told him about it, after he had gotten fed up with Sungchan's persistent questions. "Where do you always run off to?" he would ask, every time Haechan showed up by himself after their one hour breaks, until "none of your business" became "Jesus, just promise you won't tell." Not that it matters, anyway. He's pretty sure everyone else already knows.
A tiny barely used meeting room. There's nothing all that grand about it. Rather, because it's so modest, so nondescript, so far from the constant barrage of stimuli, that it makes for the perfect temporary getaway. And, well, the view is nice. There are several perks to being under SM Entertainment and being able to look at Han River from afar is but one of them. Hell of a perk, though.
Sungchan tries to not make a habit of being there. He tries to not get too overwhelmed by everything—his members, the staff, the schedules—that he has no choice but to use it. Thankfully, he rarely does. Sometimes, though, it's the only place he wants to be. Like today, for example.
He hops off the elevator, going through the motions. His legs will take him where he wants to go. Along the way, he greets familiar faces, bowing and smiling and thanking them for their hard work for the day. They don't ask any questions because they already know where he's headed.
When he arrives at the end of his journey and peers through the frosted glass door, he notices someone is already inside. Someone he's never met. Someone he doesn't know.
Someone who's crying.
The natural response is to leave, to turn away, to give the person some space, but Sungchan is frozen. He can't get his feet move, no matter much he wants to.
Eventually, the stranger looks up and sees him standing there in the hallway like an idiot. Sungchan's screwed. There's no turning back. There's no avoiding it.
He opens the door, trying not to stare as the guy wipes tears off his cheeks with the ends of his sleeves. "Hi," he blurts out, instantly regretting the awkward tone of his voice. "Is everything okay?"
"Sorry, sunbaenim," the other sniffles, steeling himself. "Will you be using this room? I'll leave soon."
Sungchan stops him just as he makes a move to get up. "Hey, it's fine. I was just walking around. Did something happen?"
"I—" The guy worries at his lower lip, an obvious debate going through his head. Sungchan understands. He would be doing the same thing in his shoes.
"You don't have to say anything," he assures. "Is it okay if I sit with you, though?"
No words are exchanged at first. The other merely gestures to the seat across from him, which Sungchan gladly takes.
He introduces himself once they're both settled. "I'm Shotaro."
"Sungchan."
Shotaro smiles, the kind that says of course you are. Sungchan supposes that someone who recognizes him as sunbaenim would already know who he is, but he keeps his manners.
"I'm part of the new NCT Japan unit."
"Right." He remembers hearing something about that. "When's the debut?"
"Not for a few more months, but we're releasing a song soon."
"Congratulations. Your hard work is finally about to be acknowledged."
At least, that's what Sungchan felt when his own debut got announced. Four long years of patient waiting eventually rewarded. Shotaro, on the other hand, only sours at the words, his expression returning to what it was a moment ago. The conversation pauses, Sungchan unsure of how to move forward.
Shotaro does it for him. "I've been struggling," he admits. "I'm not used to being a leader."
"Maybe I can help," Sungchan offers. "Leader to leader. Sunbae to hoobae. Try me."
It's a silly thing to be saying, considering he hasn't been in the game that long, and as leader even less so. He likes to think he could manage, though, and Shotaro clearly agrees.
"I just don't know how to juggle everyone's emotions when I can barely juggle my own."
The age-old problem. Every leader's conundrum. How can you be everything for everyone without sacrificing yourself? While keeping your pride? It's a selfless job, most of the time. Sungchan doesn't have any answers here, still navigating this balancing act himself. All he can do is extend some understanding, some reassurance that the other isn't alone in agonizing over it.
"It's tiring, right? To be on all the time without ever really getting the chance to be off." His mind threatens to wander, to bring back all the times he's messed up in that regard, but he snaps himself out of it. He can do that later on his own. "You need to remember it's just a job. Learn to compartmentalize."
"I'm just trying not to hurt anyone's feelings," Shotaro says, his voice weak. "One more disagreement and I think I'll have a public breakdown."
"Is that why you were in here?" Crying, he nearly adds, but catches himself before he can.
"I needed space," the other says, with a grimace. "Taeyong-sunbaenim told me about this place. He said I could use it if things ever got too much."
"Well, he wasn't lying. I— sorry if I interrupted, by the way."
"It's okay. I probably would have just cried myself to sleep if you hadn't come along, then it would have been everyone else's problem to try and find me."
Sungchan laughs. Shotaro does too. A cheerful expression looks better on him than a sad one does.
"I'm used to being here alone, but it's nice to have someone to talk to."
Shotaro cocks his head. "Do you come here often?"
"When I get the chance. How about you?"
"It's my first time."
A grin appears on Sungchan's face before he even knows it. "Then you're in for a treat."
He stands up and makes his way over to the other side of the table, to the window facing out into the river, and rolls up the blinds. The timing couldn't be more perfect. Outside, the sun is just about to dip into the skyline, its orange hues starting to spill into the crystal waters. As the light bounces off the surface, they sparkle like stars in the night sky.
The first time Sungchan had seen this sight, he made a promise to himself to catch it whenever time allowed. "This is what I come here for," he says, probably looking like a sentimental idiot but not really caring. To his surprise, Shotaro's staring with just as much awe.
"It's a good reason to come," the other says, after a long pause. "Thank you. For sharing this with me."
"It can be our secret."
Without either of them noticing, time has passed, and they both need to return to reality, back to their respective groups, their separate jobs. Sungchan leads the way just so Shotaro doesn't get the lost.
They hop on the elevator and Sungchan presses the button for his floor. When he asks Shotaro for his, the other ends up saying it in Japanese at first before quickly correcting himself.
"Sorry," he squeaks. "Still getting used to that."
Belatedly, Sungchan realizes they've been having this entire conversation in Korean. "Your vocabulary is excellent," he says without thinking, only hoping it doesn't come across as rude or patronizing after the fact.
"Thank you," Shotaro beams, and Sungchan breathes a sigh of relief. "I took the TOPIK recently. Level 5."
"You're already that fluent?"
"I've been practicing. Close to four years now."
Sungchan counts the years in his head, and it dawns on him. "That's as long as I've been an idol," he comments aloud, and the other giggles in response.
"Actually," the other trails, "I was in the pool of trainees for 2020, but they passed on me because I wasn't fluent yet. I've been working hard to make up for it."
"Then it paid off," he says, hoping that his earnestness comes through. "Seriously, I don't think you have anything to worry about. They made you leader, after all, and you seem like you know what you're doing. Speaking from experience."
"I'll take your word for it, then."
"You should. Your team is in good hands. I would have felt the same if you were in mine."
It sounds like he's doing a lot but he really means it. That Shotaro cares this much, is anxious over taking care of his members while still respecting his own limits, already shows he's more than qualified. At least he does in Sungchan's eyes. He had to get to this point the hard way.
Shotaro's floor comes first, so even though it's been nice, been easy to talk to each other, he has to say goodbye.
"Thank you sunbaenim." By this point, the heavy aura surrounding the other has dissipated, replaced by what Sungchan can only assume is his usual self: sunny, with a pep in his step. "Please let me treat you to a meal once I've debuted."
"I'll be waiting," he calls out, just as the doors close. "Good luck on your debut!"
The last thing he sees is the other's sweet smile as he retreats into the hallway.
"You good?" is Eunseok's way of greeting him the second he walks into the lounge. Sohee was here earlier but has now disappeared, so he's probably in the booth kicking off their recording session.
"Yeah," Sungchan says, taking a seat next to him on the couch. Eunseok goes back to mindlessly scrolling through his phone, and he should probably do the same, or memorize lyrics, or something other than thinking, but he's never been good at stopping his thoughts from steamrolling.
"Hey," he starts, hushed, "do you think I'm a good leader?"
Eunseok puts his phone down, posture suddenly shifting. The way Sungchan spoke must have activated something. "What's up with you?"
He doesn't know. He's not really sure what kind of answer he's expecting. "Just thinking," he replies, mulling the situation over in his head. "You would tell me if I sucked, right?"
"Obviously," Eunseok admits, maybe a little too quickly for Sungchan's liking, but he doesn't press.
Then, Eunseok sighs. "You don't, by the way. Suck, I mean."
"Okay." That's good enough, he supposes. Sungchan trusts his opinion after all.
They retreat back into their bubbles, the silence only broken when Wonbin steps into the room and makes his way over to Eunseok's side, pestering him about what they're making for the group's dinner tonight. As they discuss the leftover ingredients in their fridge, Sungchan's mind floats away.
He wonders how Shotaro is doing after they parted ways, how he's handling his team after the cool-off period. He wonders if he gave good advice. It would be nice if he did. Maybe he'll bump into him one of these days and find out. Maybe they'll have that lunch. Maybe it could become a thing. Maybe they could be friends. Sharing their worries. Helping each other out. Seeing more sunsets.
He would like that, he thinks.
3.
Sungchan has been trying to avoid this.
Years ago, things were different. He was different. Still growing, learning, figuring it all out. He was allowed some grace and time to get better.
The problem is he never did.
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get his limbs to move the way he wanted. It got even worse after the growth spurt, and by then even he couldn't deny it. He was better off not heading down the idol path and he might have left had the company not refused. It would be a shame to let you go, they said, even though Sungchan couldn't see why. We'll find another way.
That way ended up being clear. Acting wasn't his first choice, but he took his lessons seriously—pouring over scripts, memorizing lines, analyzing the emotions on the page until he could bleed the same way. He was determined not to fail a second time. He couldn't.
He didn't. And now he's at his first major award show, only to be faced with the same challenge that led him down this alternate path in the first place.
"Are you sure you can't get someone else?" he asks, back against the wall. In front of him, Wonbin and Shotaro give questioning looks.
"Hyung, you'll be fine," Wonbin assures him. "Remember? You were better than me when I first joined."
"Then you got better than me." It's pointed even if he doesn't mean it to. This interaction is bringing up feelings he's long buried and he's not enjoying it. "Seriously, I'll just look bad next to you."
"The fans like that though!"
Ouch. His expression falls into a grimace and Wonbin immediately seizes up, realizing the severity of his words. They're friends, sure, but talk about hitting him where it hurts.
Shotaro takes the chance to step in before things get more awkward. "What Wonbinnie's saying is you don't need to be perfect. We'll guide you through it."
The words come with a kind smile. Wonbin backs him up, nodding like he's capable of begging on his knees for it. Sungchan stands there, pondering. He's not an idol. No one expects him to dance well. What does he have to lose?
"Make sure to get my good side," he acquiesces, letting the pair drag him off to the side so he can get reacquainted with his old enemy.
"Okay, so you do this with your arms—"
He silently watches the two as they guide him through a tutorial. Wonbin's gotten a lot better since they last saw each other, moving with the kind of power that Sungchan used to dream he could pull off. Shotaro's no slouch either, a grace and ease to his movements that immediately calls to mind all the great dancers in the company that he once looked up to, hoping he would one day get to share the stage with. A dance challenge will have to do.
And, well, it's really not that complicated. Sungchan feels a little silly now, fussing over something so simple. He picks up the moves in no time and they only have to shoot the video twice before everyone gives their okay.
"Are you sure that was good?" He wipes the beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, trying not to act embarrassed about the fact that he might have exerted more effort than necessary.
"Hyung," Wonbin whines, rolling his eyes. There's no ill will behind it though. "You're really not as bad as you think you are."
It's a tough pill to swallow. It's even tougher to rewire his brain. Part of him still believes what the company told him all those years ago.
"You look like you enjoyed it," Shotaro follows up. "Not a lot of people do."
Sungchan hums. "I did always like it. Just wasn't sure if I was good at it."
"You probably just needed a teacher," Wonbin eggs on, digging his elbow into Sungchan's side. "Anton used to be terrible until Taro-hyung whipped him into shape."
The words get him a slap on the back, courtesy of the teacher himself. And though he denies it, Shotaro does look happy to be praised. Must be nice. Only a natural-born talent could be so humble.
"Should we take a picture?" he redirects, mostly to avoid his own thoughts.
After a few shots on each of their respective manager's phones, Sungchan props up his own to take a selfie. At least he has his height. He sends it to Wonbin, reviving their dormant chat, and grins at their last set of exchanges: a shot of Sungchan's face on the TV from his debut drama, accompanied by a "congrats hyung!" He never gave a reply.
"We should meet up again," Wonbin says, smiling at his own phone, probably thinking the same thing he is. "I'll bring Eunseok-hyung."
"That would be nice." The last time they were together, none of them could even drink. Now that would be a sight. "Tell him I said hi."
"Of course."
Wonbin's phone buzzes with a notification and his eyes go slack. "Ah, crap, they need me back in the green room." He slides an arm under Sungchan's elbow in some kind of attempt at a hug, then says, "bye hyung, I'll make sure to text," as he leaves the scene. The quick exit makes both him and Shotaro laugh, though that quickly fades once they realize that it's also left both of them alone.
There's an awkward pause before either of them chooses to speak.
"Thank you for this," he says, not sure of what exactly he means by it. For giving him the chance to build bridges? To heal old wounds? There's a lot of reasons, he supposes.
Shotaro sighs, worrying at his lower lip. "He's right, you know. The company shouldn't have given up on you so easily."
"It was my fault."
That's the one thing he can admit to. Sure, he was younger, more fragile, less self-assured, but it was his decision in the end. He was the one who ran away. In hindsight, maybe things could have been different. Maybe he shouldn't have given up, shouldn't have mindlessly followed their suggestion. Maybe he should have fought for his place.
"If you were around, maybe I would gotten good enough. Then, they wouldn't have said anything."
Sungchan means it as a compliment, and he's glad Shotaro takes it as one, cheeks bunching up and eyes folding into crescents. There's a purity to it. A kind of optimism that's infectious, Sungchan can't help but smile too.
He's only ever seen him in passing, in pictures or fleeting seconds on the screens around the office, but Shotaro's a lot cuter like this, in motion, energy bouncing off him in a way that cameras could never capture. He's been in front of them enough times to know.
On cue, Shotaro's phone buzzes, and without even checking the other already knows what to expect. "They're probably calling for me." He fumbles for a bit, contemplating how to approach this goodbye, before settling on outstretched hand.
"It was nice meeting you," Sungchan says, taking his hand and bowing.
"Ah, before I forget," Shotaro suddenly utters, his grip tightening. "Congratulations on the award. You were great in that movie."
Sungchan nods, almost certain that it's just for pleasantries, but then Shotaro continues.
"Especially that scene on the rooftop. Did you do that one stunt by yourself? You looked really cool. All of us thought so. Well, except Wonbinnie, but I think he was more scared for you than anything."
Now, it's Sungchan's turn to feel flattered—he wasn't expecting a glowing review today, least of all from someone he's just met—and it clearly shows because Shotaro pauses to stare at his face.
"Sorry," the other sputters, finally letting go of Sungchan's hand. "Did I say too much?"
"No. It's fine. That… it means a lot." He can't help the sheepish grin that follows. "Thank you."
"Ah, Taro-hyung!" a voice shouts off in the distance. At the end of the hallway is a scrawny looking individual, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he tries to get Shotaro's attention. "They're looking for you! Hurry up!"
"Be right there!" Shotaro shouts back, waving him away, then turning his attention back to Sungchan. "Let's cheer each other on, then?"
"Yeah," he says, flashing a big smile. "Let's do that."
0.
3… 2…
Sungchan watches as the numbers descend on the screen above. There's a palpable buzz from everyone inside the elevator, an energy that has all of them—members, managers, staff—jittery with anticipation. Once they step outside of these four walls and onto the ground floor, they'll have crossed a certain point, one that they used to only dream of reaching. A lot of nights spent waiting for this moment and it's finally within reach.
His heart feels like it could break out if his chest at any second. It's taking everything in him to remember how to breathe.
Through the mass of bodies, Shotaro makes his way over to his side, leaning back on the cool metal wall. "You're thinking about it again, aren't you?" he whispers, knocking his foot into Sungchan's.
He's always been an easy person to read, especially for Shotaro.
"Can't help it," he says back, shrugging, all giddy. "Our first concert. We're finally here."
"Yeah." Shotaro breaks into a grin. Whatever Sungchan is on is clearly contagious. "We made it."
Nearly five years ago, he was in a different situation. A different elevator, a different purpose, a different reason to be nervous. He had no idea what was about to happen, what the next five years would bring.
Only one thing has stayed the same. One constant by his side.
He slips his hand into Shotaro's and squeezes. "Together."
And Shotaro, like always, squeezes back. "Together."
He wouldn't have it any other way.