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“Shinonome.” The woman spoke just as he was about to step out the door. “Make sure you’re on time at the agency tomorrow.”
Akito sighed, visibly uncomfortable.
“Yeah, I’ll be there,” he replied, trying to brush it off.
She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, not quite lifting her gaze from the computer.
“This is very important for your career. Take it seriously,” she said, with that same usual severity.
Akito held back a small laugh. That woman, his manager, always took things way too seriously.
“I will,” he nodded, finally leaving the office that smelled like paper, strawberry air freshener, and desperation.
He rolled his eyes once he was far enough away, because he could swear his manager had eyes everywhere.
He hated that idea. He was meant to sing, not to take pictures with some random pretty boy from a monthly Japanese idol magazine.
He hated photos. Even the covers of his singles and his first album were anything but his face, just things that reminded him of the songs.
Photoshoots had never been his thing. Not because he was unattractive, but because he had always been terrible at posing in front of a camera.
Performing was easier. He had always known how to sing in a way that lit a fire in people’s hearts. That was why his fans loved him, not because he was ridiculously handsome.
By the time his personal driver dropped him off at his house (now in an upscale Los Angeles neighborhood) he rushed inside and headed straight to his room.
The only thing that hadn’t changed since all this madness began.
His bed was still the same, tucked into the corner near the couch where he used to sit and compose on his laptop, staring at walls covered in posters from the event that had once meant everything to him. His shelves were still packed with CDs from that time.
A distant dream that, somehow, still made him feel like he was back home in Japan, when things were… simpler.
Simpler. Were they really?
A lot had happened after that, but nothing ever came close to the impact of that night.
That damn night that kept replaying in his head whenever he had nothing else to do, the one that had inspired eighty percent of his songs. Even when he tried to write something to distract himself, it always circled back to the same thing, over and over again, like some kind of ritual.
It wasn’t intentional…
Well, maybe it was. But it was easier to pretend he didn’t notice.
Not even signing a contract with a record label for three albums compared to the feeling of thinking about his broken dream.
Just that. Not him. Never him.
He didn’t matter anymore. He had nothing to do with surpassing Rad Weekend, and even less with Akito. Nothing at all.
But if that were true, then why did he keep thinking about it?
More importantly, why did he keep replaying every word they’d exchanged that night? Why did he still remember everything he had said and done?
Only the weakest part of him thought it had gone too far. That he should’ve never hit him. That maybe that was why he had left Japan.
But he deserved it… right?
His words… Toya’s words, had been more cruel than any punch. They both knew it.
Damn it, Akito would’ve preferred if Toya had hit him instead of saying that.
At least a bruise would’ve faded within a week. He could’ve moved on, telling himself Toya was just another asshole who mocked his dream without knowing anything about him.
It would’ve been easier to hate him. Then he wouldn’t still be thinking about him four years later.
Four damn years.
Four years of replaying his words on the way to somewhere, in the middle of the night when he couldn’t sleep, while running at dawn as part of his routine, in the silence of the recording studio when it was just him and the microphone behind the glass.
Even when it felt like his head was burning from thinking about him, he still couldn’t stop.
He still believed those words didn’t make sense at all and that he didn’t recognize him. That there was no way the person who had said that was Toya.
The same Toya Aoyagi who stayed up late practicing with him, who memorized his favorite places and songs without ever being asked, had told him his dream was childish.
He collapsed onto his bed, burying his face in the pillow, muffling a groan and hating himself for wondering where they would be now if that hadn’t happened.
Akito knew there was no point in thinking about it. He knew Toya had moved on with his life as if nothing had happened.
It occurred a normal day, he was out running when he saw him.
Not in person, of course. But his face was plastered across a massive billboard advertising some magazine Akito definitely didn’t want to read… yet ended up buying anyway, out of pure curiosity because he hated himself, because he wanted to hurt himself just enough to finally stop thinking about Toya.
It didn’t work.
The magazine was still sitting on one of his shelves. Sometimes, he’d flip through it for a moment or two.
It was safe to say Toya probably didn’t even remember it the way he did and that was irritating. Maybe that was why he hated the photoshoot so much.
He couldn’t believe Toya had given up his dream of being a singer just to become a model. It didn’t even seem like something Toya would be interested in.
Maybe his father had forced him into it again, and of course, he had let himself be manipulated or maybe Akito had never really known him at all. That was his least favorite thought.
Because somehow, Akito felt like he had actually known him. It would’ve been impossible not to, after two years together.
Six years in total, and he was still thinking about Toya. It was ridiculous, considering he was tormenting himself over a failed relationship with someone he had spent more time apart from than together. And yet, here he was.
Now more than ever, it was torture trying to stop thinking about him, especially when his face was everywhere, and people wouldn’t stop talking about the new handsome Japanese model who had gone viral thanks to a perfume ad.
Akito wasn’t exactly surprised, Toya was attractive, it wasn’t shocking that he was photogenic too, that he had that natural charm that pulled people in.
That didn’t make it any less annoying. It didn’t help him at all. So he spent the entire afternoon composing, anything that might ease the pressure building in his chest.
He remembered that one song he had written when he was more anger and sadness than a person. The one that had become popular just a few months ago, the one that got him signed and allowed him to release his latest album.
“I don’t care if this love is a selfish one.”
That was the title. And it had a full name attached to it: Toya Aoyagi.
Even if people started digging into his private life, they would never find anything because absolutely no one remembered those days, their mediocre performances on Vivid Street, when people laughed at them, saying they would never make it anywhere. They were right.
Only Akito remembered how Toya had broken his heart with those stupid words. It didn’t matter anymore though.
But the next day came too fast.
Akito woke up at four in the morning, his body acting like it had some kind of internal alarm. He got out of bed, changed into his training clothes, put on his most comfortable sneakers and ran.
He ran as far as he could, trying to escape everything, trying his best to escape him, to escape from Toya and that stupid perfume ad smile. That ridiculous magazine sitting next to the CDs Toya himself had given him years ago.
But hours later, there he was, getting ready to go to that stupid modeling agency, repeating to himself that there was no way, no way in hell he would run into Toya there. Most likely, Toya would be working with some other random singer who had gotten popular recently. That would be it.
He was wrong. He knew it the second he walked into the studio.
There was Toya Aoyagi, casually talking to the photographer about something as insignificant as the weather.
Akito froze at the entrance. He wanted to run, run and then collapse somewhere. He didn’t care if his manager killed him for it because he’d kill himself right there if he could.
He stumbled trying to turn around, hitting the wall with a loud thud and instantly drawing everyone’s attention.
Great. Now he looked like a complete idiot in front of the entire team.
Toya was looking at him, of course he was, everyone was.
“Akito?” he heard him murmur, something like… relief in his voice.
“Sorry, wrong place,” Akito said quickly, already trying to leave only to run straight into his manager.
“Shinonome. And where do you think you’re going?” she asked, arms crossed, raising that same eyebrow she always did when he was about to do something stupid.
There was no escape. This was it, the end of all ends.
“I just need a moment,” he said, forcing a nervous laugh.
By some kind of divine miracle, she stepped aside and let him pass. That was his chance, the perfect chance to run, but once again, that weak part of him made the decision.
The only thing people heard was a muffled scream from the hallway and then Akito walked back in like nothing happened, wearing the fakest smile he had.
“Good morning,” he greeted politely, bowing slightly. Right, they weren’t in Japan anymore.
Someone from the lighting crew cleared their throat awkwardly, and suddenly everyone went back to what they were doing. Everyone except Toya, who walked up to him with a smile.
Akito pretended to be interested in one of the magazines on the table, but of course, it was Toya’s magazine.
“Akito,” he greeted. He was still calling him by his first name, he didn’t do that with just anyone.
“Hey,” Akito replied, like he wasn’t dying inside, flipping through random pages until he landed on his favorite photo and immediately shut the magazine.
“I didn’t know you were into this kind of thing,” Toya said, amused.
“I’m not,” Akito shot back quickly. “Besides, I could say the same about you.”
Toya laughed, glancing away.
“I guess life takes unexpected turns.” that was all he said, and then, silence, a silence that rang loudly in Akito’s ears.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Toya added. Akito resisted the urge to say ‘me neither’. “I’m glad you’re the singer my manager told me about.”
Akito’s heart skipped. Glad?
“Let’s do our best, Akito. It’ll be a good shoot,” Toya said, patting his shoulder.
Akito frowned, something tight and bitter forming in his throat.
“What the hell…” he muttered once Toya was far enough away. “What the hell is he glad for?”
*****
Akito didn’t even realize when he ended up dressed… like that. That was another thing he hated about all of this, he missed his loose clothes, his comfortable hoodies, now he was stuck wearing something that clung to every inch of him.
A sheer black lycra shirt, a matching jacket with the shoulders cut out, and a pair of track pants. He felt exposed because he had never worn anything like this before, and honestly? it felt too tight but it wasn’t. It fit perfectly, they had thought of everything and that only made it worse.
When he stepped out of the dressing room, Toya was already there, fully dressed, radiating that same kind of magic Akito had seen in the commercial.
No… He looked even better in person.
He wasn’t even styled yet, but he was wearing a soft pink sweater with a black pattern over a white shirt, tied neatly with a ribbon the same color as the sweater. He had piercings too, something Akito definitely hadn’t expected.
Akito froze for a second, swallowing hard before nodding stiffly, looking anywhere but at him.
“Shinonome,” his manager again. “Sit down. The stylists have work to do.”
Akito laughed awkwardly and obeyed. He didn’t really have a choice. Truth be told, he barely did anything to his hair beyond splashing water on it in the mornings, so he had no idea what was going on.
Out of the corner of his eye, he looked at Toya, seated beside him while someone applied light makeup just enough to highlight his eyes and cheeks, matching his outfit.
Akito really didn’t want to think about any of this but it was kind of hard when the source of all his problems was sitting right next to him, existing like nothing had ever happened. He wanted to cry.
Toya had really moved on. He was a successful model now, completely unbothered by how things had ended between them. It made sense. It had been four years, but it still hurt.
Akito had bought that stupid magazine just because Toya was in it. Hell, he had even written songs about him while Toya just kept being talented, professional, perfect.
Fame didn’t take away how pathetic he felt, it never would. Whatever this whole situation was, it wouldn’t make him feel better, not now and not even in ten years.
Maybe he’d still remember this moment, filled with embarrassment, with this magazine and the hundred more Toya would probably release sitting on his shelves while Akito kept writing songs about his failed attempts to hate him, proving he was just another frustrated singer in the industry.
Maybe he’d win awards. One for the most pathetic loser alive.
He blinked rapidly, holding back tears, it was already humiliating enough to have him sitting right there, looking more perfect than anyone had any right to be.
After what felt like hours, they were finally done with his hair and makeup. He looked at himself in the mirror and felt strange.
He wasn’t Akito Shinonome, the well-known singer. He was just Akito, trying not to look like a complete idiot.
Toya, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. His mere presence filled the room, earning quiet sighs and comments from the staff. Everyone was captivated and Akito swore he could see him glowing.
“Thank you,” Toya said with a smile, warm, soft, genuine. The kind Akito hadn’t seen in years.
This couldn’t be the same Toya Aoyagi who had broken his heart, but he wasn’t the same Toya from BAD DOGS either. He felt like something out of Akito’s dreams, the kind where Toya came back, full of regret.
Except this Toya didn’t seem to want anything more than to glance at him with that smile Akito wanted to wipe off his face.
Eventually they moved to the set and the photographer seemed excited, even lighting crew was already setting everything up.
The lights were too bright. Akito had to squint, though not brighter than Toya.
“Akito,” Toya called, getting into position. “I heard your single. You did a great job.”
Akito felt like he was suffocating. Toya had heard his song. That song, the one that had put him here, the one that was obviously about both of them. Toya would have to be deaf not to realize it.
Akito just nodded, pressing his lips together.
“They play it on the radio a lot,” Toya added. “I recognized your voice immediately.”
Akito was about to respond visibly offended when the photographer interrupted.
“We’re about to start, please get into position.”
Toya moved effortlessly, like he had been doing this his whole life and Akito stood there, stiff, completely lost.
“Shinonome?” the photographer called, confused.
Akito cleared his throat.
“I don’t know what you expect me to do,” he admitted, crossing his arms.
Toya laughed, of course he did.
“Just look at the camera and smile, Akito,” he said.
Akito couldn’t tell if he was being nice or mocking him. Probably the second option.
“Easy for you to say,” he snapped.
“Alright, everyone relax,” the supervisor cut in. “Why don’t we try a pose for both of you?”
The photographer nodded and guided them into position and it would’ve been fine if it weren’t that position.
Akito stood behind Toya, close enough that his chest brushed against his back. One hand settled firmly on his waist, holding him in place without effort.
Toya leaned back slightly, tilting his head as his hand slid up along his own neck, fingers grazing his skin with an ease that didn’t go unnoticed.
Akito swallowed.
“Are you nervous?” Toya asked calmly.
It irritated him.
“No,” Akito shot back, meeting his gaze with something sharp he couldn’t hide.
“Shinonome, um…” the photographer stammered. “Could you… maybe stop looking at Aoyagi like that?”
Heat rushed to his face, he immediately looked away with his jaw tight and Toya smiled like he had just won something only the two of them understood.
“Perfect!” the photographer said and the camera flashed.
Akito felt empty. He wanted to disappear.
“Akito, relax. You’re too tense,” Toya said, turning his head toward him.
That was it.
“Easy for you to say,” Akito snapped again, the exact same words. “It’s not like you gave up music to do this.”
The regret hit immediately when Toya’s expression changed, there was a glimpse of hurt behind those gray eyes.
“Music was never really my thing,” he replied quietly, turning away.
“Yeah, I can tell,” Akito muttered, he really needed to stop talking. But he couldn’t.
“Akito… please. Let’s just focus on the shoot,” Toya said, voice strained.
Akito stepped back and for the first time in years, he really looked at him and he didn’t even recognize him anymore.
Toya was someone else entirely and somehow still the same person he had loved the most.
For moment, they weren’t a frustrated singer who only wrote about a doomed relationship and a perfect model who seemed to have it all.
They were just Akito and Toya.
Those same kids who had shared everything when they had nothing at all, those who sang their hearts out in street performances people laughed at and understood each other without words.
Akito didn’t get it. At all.
Toya, the most important person in his miserable life, the reason behind his songs, his greatest loss was standing right there, acting like it had all been nothing more than a stupid argument.
Maybe Akito had never meant the same to him, maybe he had just been another passing moment in Toya’s perfect life.
“That’s enough,” Akito said, his heart pounding in his throat. “This isn’t going to work. We’re never going to work,” and with that, he got out of there.
“Akito!” Toya called, running after him, but Akito didn’t listen.
He didn’t want to.
Akito didn’t even realize when Toya caught up to him. One moment ago he was walking away, trying to outrun everything, and the next there was a hand around his wrist, firm but not forceful.
“Akito…” Toya called, slightly out of breath, like he had been running without thinking. Akito turned sharply, eyes already burning with unshed tears.
“What?!” he snapped and knew he looked pathetic, immature even, but he couldn’t stop feeling that way.
Toya hesitated, clearly unsure how to begin.
“Akito, I…” he started, but the words didn’t come easily.
“No,” Akito cut him off immediately, trying to pull away. “Let go.”
Still, Toya didn’t release him.
“Please. Just listen to me,” he said quietly, and something in his voice made Akito stop struggling.
“What do you want?!” Akito asked, tension spreading through his entire body, centered around the grip he couldn’t shake off. Toya hesitated only for a second before speaking again.
“Your song… it was about me, right?”
Akito let out a bitter, broken laugh, out all the things he had expected, it hadn’t been that.
“I think that was pretty obvious,” he replied, his voice trembling despite himself.
Toya lowered his gaze slightly.
“I listened to it over and over,” he admitted. “Because I missed your voice. I didn’t know how to stop.”
Akito looked away, his chest tightening.
“I never wanted the world to hear it,” he said after a moment, quieter now. “I wrote it because I missed you… and I didn’t know what to do with that.”
The confession lingered between them, fragile and raw.
“Please, forgive me,” Toya said, and when Akito looked back at him, his eyes were filled with tears, smudging the careful makeup he had been wearing earlier. “There hasn’t been a single day I didn’t want to apologize to you.”
Akito clenched his fists. He knew Toya well enough to recognize sincerity when he saw it, he could hear it in his voice, see it in the way he held himself but that didn’t mean it was easy to believe.
“If that’s true,” Akito said, frowning, something heavy settling in his chest, “Then why didn’t you do it sooner? Why didn’t you come find me?”
Toya pressed his lips together before answering.
“Because I thought you wouldn’t want to see me. Not after what I did.”
And he wasn’t wrong. Akito didn’t want to see him, not completely but that didn’t change the fact that he had missed him more than anything.
“I bought that stupid magazine because you were in it,” Akito admitted after a pause, his voice uneven. “I kept writing songs for you, even knowing you’d probably never hear them and I still haven’t moved on.” His tone grew sharper with every word. “But you— you just kept living your life like nothing happened.”
He pushed Toya back just enough to free himself, frustration spilling over.
“Now you’re this successful model, and I keep seeing you everywhere, on TV, in that stupid perfume ad, which I also bought, by the way. Do you have any idea how pathetic that is?”
“No,” Toya replied immediately, stepping closer again, shaking his head. “It wasn’t like that. It was never that easy.” His voice wavered slightly. “I saw you everywhere too, Akito.”
Akito wiped his tears harshly with the sleeve of his jacket, but Toya continued.
“I bought all your albums, every single one,” he said, holding his gaze now. “There wasn’t a moment in my day when I wasn’t listening to them and it made me happy… knowing you were still chasing your dream. Even if I wasn’t in the picture anymore.”
Akito swallowed hard, his throat tight.
“Look at you, Toya,” he said, trying to hold on to what little pride he had left. “You’re nothing like the person I—”
He stopped himself, he had to. The words getting stuck before he could admit it, because it was too much to say that he was still in love with him.
“Akito…” Toya murmured softly, and even unfinished, it felt like enough.
There was a brief hesitation before Toya stepped forward again, this time pulling him into an embrace. It wasn’t rushed or desperate though, it was careful, almost hesitant, like he was asking for permission with the way his arms slowly wrapped around him.
Akito tensed immediately and his body reacted before his mind could catch up, recognizing that closeness, that warmth he hadn’t felt in years.
For a moment, he almost pushed him away, but he didn’t. His hands hovered awkwardly before finally gripping the fabric of Toya’s pretty clothes, weakly at first.
He closed his eyes, fully aware that this didn’t fix anything, it didn’t erase the past, didn’t promise anything about tomorrow, but for a brief moment, just one, he let himself exist there, in that warmth that didn’t overwhelm him like it used to, but instead felt grounding in a way he had forgotten. Memories came back before he could stop them.
That night, years ago, when everything had been too much, the first time he had broken down after hearing people say Toya would be better off without him, that he was holding him back, he had cried alone backstage until Toya found him, and even then, Toya didn’t said a word. He had just stayed there, holding him in silence and that was enough.
Just like now.
“Akito… I don’t want to lose you again,” Toya whispered, resting his chin lightly against his hair.
Akito pulled back slightly after a moment, just enough to look at him. Those gray eyes were still the same, still familiar in a way that made everything hurt more.
“I’m still in love with you.”
That was everything Akito needed, that’s why he leaned in first.
Their lips met carefully, almost uncertainly, like they were both questioning whether they still had the right to do this.
Toya kissed him back, of course he did, but this time there was hesitation in it, a softness that hadn’t been there before, like he was afraid Akito might pull away at any second. He didn’t.
When they separated, the silence returned, heavy and unresolved. Nothing had actually changed and kiss hadn’t fixed anything.
“Don’t do that,” Akito said quietly, though there was still an edge in his voice. “Don’t kiss me back just because.”
Toya shook his head.
“I didn’t do it so you’d come back to me,” he said, meeting his gaze. “I did it because I miss you. Because I still love you and otherwise would just be lying to myself again.”
Akito looked away, his chest tightening again.
“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” he admitted.
“I know. I’m not asking you to.”
“I still don’t understand why you did it,” Akito continued, more quietly now. “But… I guess you had your reasons.”
Toya smiled then, gently, like before.
“When I heard you sing,” he said, choosing his words carefully, “I wished we could still do it together.”
Akito frowned slightly.
“I thought music wasn’t your thing.”
“It was,” Toya replied softly. “When I was with you.”
The words lingered, heavier than anything else.
“That’s not fair,” Akito said under his breath. “You know that still matters to me.”
“It never stopped mattering to me either,” Toya said, reaching up to wipe away the tears on his cheek with careful fingers.
Akito caught his hand, holding it there.
“If I had known that was the last time we’d sing together…” he said quietly, tightening his grip just slightly, “I would’ve picked the longest song ever.”
Toya leaned in again, kissing him once more, soft, brief, but full of everything he couldn’t say out loud. Akito kissed him back, it still didn’t fix things, but it made it hurt less.
“I know you won’t forgive me right away,” Toya said after pulling back. “I know we’ve both changed, but I don’t want to spend my life regretting losing you again.”
Akito took a deep breath, something shifting in him, something he thought he had lost years ago. Toya’s hand was still on his cheek, still looking at him like he ment everything.
“If you want to try again,” Akito said finally, a small, tired smile appearing, “without pretending nothing happened… I won’t stop you. But you’ll have to earn my trust again.”
Relief washed over Toya’s expression as he pulled him into another hug.
“Thank you, Akito,” he said softly. “That makes me really happy.”
“Don’t mess it up again, got it?” Akito muttered, running a hand through his two toned blue hair.
“I won’t.”
When they returned to the studio later, it was like nothing had happened, and at the same time, everything had changed.
The photographer quickly decided to reschedule, the tension in the photos too obvious to ignore as people started packing up.
“I guess we’ll have to reschedule the shoot,” she said awkwardly.
Akito nodded.
“Sounds good to me.”
Toya leaned in just enough for only Akito to hear him.
“Looks like we’ll be seeing each other again.”
Akito held his gaze for a moment longer this time, and for the first time in years he felt like he truly recognized him again.
“You can count on it.”