Chapter Text
It’s been a month or two after Rui and Tsukasa finally became proper troupemates, Tsukasa trying to prove that he’ll truly be a world-future star, while Rui reconsidered his other invention, especially after that one... incident, where Rui felt he had been reckless with his safety procedures.
Tsukasa would excuse it as a normal occurrence, but the fact that Tsukasa passed out?
Rui felt like he did too much. To Rui, that was an unforgivable oversight, but it’s unlike Rui to be affected like that. Sure, he’d be a bit strict, but to the point where it leads to somehow constantly worrying about it?
He tends to be a more eccentric and unconventional person, but he didn’t. He thought that if he put Tsukasa, if he put his troupemates, or literally anyone in danger? Not only will he think he failed himself as a director, but that he failed them as a friend.
It’s only natural to react this way, but after that, Rui wasn’t himself. He started to be overbearingly strict with the direction of each performance. Even as Nene and Emu speak up about this, even when Tsukasa snaps, that he, before Rui, recognizes that he is doubting himself, unsure of his own plans? It genuinely hurt the three of them to see Rui look so helpless.
Rui thought, if he worked harder? Maybe he’d have to work on his appliances more. Maybe Tsukasa wouldn’t have hit himself hard. Maybe it would’ve spared the impact.
What if something happened and the doctors overlooked an injury? What if he’d been seriously hurt and he didn’t want to admit that pain to Rui? What if something drastic happens during a performance? The fear of another incident happening again haunts him.
Rui hasn’t had these kinds of thoughts in years, as he’d usually force himself to brush it off.
Sure, he’d tell himself that he’s a weirdo whose passion was too much for people to accept, that his ideas were somehow exhausting. But this is definitely different. To his friends, he’s in denial about this fear, but to himself, he knows he should do more than that. He can’t seem to forgive himself. He can’t even see that he’s thinking this way, and overly denies it without realizing it.
It’s not like he’s in so much fear, more reluctant, because if the same incident happened again? Oh, he had promised that nothing of harm would happen, that his stage was safe, right? And yet, he failed to keep that word...
It felt entirely out of character for him to think that he should stop inventing, as now, he’d rather practice and spend time working on how he fixes and tweaks with complex robots such as his own. Because now? That passion is affected by a promise he swore to keep.
Tsukasa was as obnoxiously confident as ever, striving to prove his status as a future star, but Rui had become a mere shadow of his former self.
Since the “incident”, the moment Rui’s safety procedures failed, and Tsukasa, knocked unconscious, was stuck in his head.
Tsukasa watched from the other side of the stage, breathing heavily. He had just finished a sequence that, months ago, would have culminated in a high-wire launch. Instead, Rui had replaced it with a simple and sturdy step-platform.
“Rui,” Tsukasa shouted, his voice unusually firm. “That jump. It's like… too low.”
Rui didn’t look up from his tablet. "It's safer this way, Tsukasa-kun. We still achieve the narrative beat without the dangerous implications."
Tsukasa closed his eyes. He wasn't looking at the stage, rather at him. "You're not directing a show the same way you did before, Rui. I don’t... I don't even see the light in your eyes anymore.”
Nene stepped forward, arms crossed. She'd been biting her tongue for days, but the coldness in Rui's voice was too much for her to handle.
"Rui, look at us," she retorted. When he finally looked up, her expression shifted.
"Is this what you want? To spend the rest of our lives just babied until we've almost stopped moving for ourselves?"
"I'm making sure the troupe lasts, Nene," Rui replied, his smile looking forced. "I realize my ideas were reckless. I promised a safe stage."
"You're lying," Nene hissed. "Do you think we're so helpless that we can't handle a stage you made?"
Rui backed away, his grip tightening until his knuckles turned white. "Nene, that's not—"
"It's true! If you keep removing the Rui you used to be from these shows, these shows won’t ever be the same! I joined because you helped convince me that this troupe would make me feel like I can actually achieve something...”
Emu, who had been unusually quiet, came over and placed a hand on Rui's arm. "Rui-kun..."
"Your heart... It’s making a very loud, hollow sound. It’s like that thud-thud that makes you nervous, are you sure you're okay, Rui-kun..?"
Rui's shoulders slumped. "Emu-kun...?"
"You're shaking," she said, her eyes widening. "Even though you're smiling, your eyes are still searching for the risky spots... You've become so quiet... Do you think we'd hate you if something bad happened?"
Rui didn't answer. He couldn't. The silence that followed was his admission.
That day, the girls left to give them space. Tsukasa found Rui sitting there, staring down at the floor of the stage, the exact spot where the accident had happened.
"You know," Tsukasa began, sitting down next to him with a heavy sigh. "When I went to the doctor, he said my head was as hard as a rock. So there wasn't a single scar or bruise at all."
"I saw you stop breathing for a while there, Tsukasa-kun," Rui said, his voice cracking for the first time. "I pulled the lever myself. I designed those robots, yet all of it was miscalculated in the end. I promised you a star's stage, I know that, but I don't want to risk another incident like that for any of you, Tsukasa."
"And I told you I'd accept any direction you gave me! Remember?! I'd give it my all, 12000%!
He held his shoulder, making the director face him. "Listen to me, Rui, I don't want you to be a director who's afraid of his own shadow. I want you to be a director with that spark you used to have! Someone who'll look at a slingshot and say, "Let's go higher!" like... like you used to be."
Rui looked at him, his purple eyes trembling. "But what if—"
"There's no "what if", Rui!" Tsukasa cut him off. "I- well, if I fall, I'll always get back up. But if you stop being you, there's no place for the stars of this stage to shine. Do you get it?"
Rui stared at him for a long moment, then let out a weak, genuine laugh, his first in weeks. "Fufu... you're so stubborn, Tsukasa-kun."
But that spark didn't return overnight, of course. The next day in Wonder Stage, the silence was still as heavy, and Tsukasa had been standing in the doorway for a few minutes, trying to see if Rui would budge.
"Rui… today's rehearsal," Tsukasa began, his voice low. "You didn't look at me once, are you sure you're okay?”
“Tsukasa? Ah.. I’m fine, don’t worry about me–”
"Rui, look at your hands!" Nene ran to him. "They're shaking! How long did it take tightening a screw that was already secure..?”
“I- well, I just…” Rui eventually sighed.
"I promised..." Rui whispered.
Emu reached out and took his hand. "Rui-kun... you're so cold," she whispered.
Rui finally looked up, eyes glassy. "I won't let it happen again. I see it every time I close my eyes. If I lose you all because of my own selfishness-"
"We're not lost...!" Emu whispered. "But you are.."
"You know, I didn’t even have a bruise," Tsukasa suddenly said, pulling back his sleeve to reveal.. Literally nothing.
Rui squeezed his eyes shut tightly. "Please, Tsukasa-kun. Don't–"
"No, listen to me! I remember falling, and you know what I thought? I thought it was thrilling! Even though that happened, I know it was just a simple mistake! Because I know that you’re the one we can truly count on for safety–"
"But it didn’t happen! You got hurt, Tsukasa!" Rui finally broke, his voice a rough, painful sob. He grabbed Tsukasa's wrists, his own knuckles white.
"I put my pride as an inventor before your life! I knew the robot was experimental! I wanted a 'perfect' show so badly that I almost killed my best friend! How could I look at a blueprint and not see your blood?"
“You– best friend..?” Tsukasa froze.
Tsukasa didn't budge... "And blood..? There wasn't even any blood–”
"But what if there was?!" Rui cried.
"...Even if there was, I wouldn’t blame you, because I chose to give it my all. I will always trust you, Rui. More than I would trust the stage. If I "die" on your stage, I die a star. But if I live on a stage where you're afraid to dream... then I'm already a ghost."
"You're an idiot," Rui choked out, his fingers gripping Tsukasa’s costume gently.
"Ahem, I'm a star," Tsukasa corrected.
"And a star needs its director, and just as you promised me, Rui. Just... don't leave me on the ground like this."