Archive of Our Own

Family was a matter of flesh and blood. At least, that was the perception branded upon him. It was the DNA molecules which determined his icy skin, his sharp features and the foundations of his musical talent.

Thus, when Aoyagi pressed his aching fingers into the worn keys of his family's piano, he was convinced it was a matter of blood- his duty- to follow his father's word. It was nature to follow one's family, after all, even if it meant ignoring the tremble of your hands as you listened to the endless orders to 'go again'. Perhaps that's why he hadn't noticed how different their perceptions were until they had begun to quarrel over street music. Where he saw playing classical music as a duty he was mercilessly caged in, like a wingless bird, his father had seen it as his only chance to fly. 

Straying from family by no means is an unheard of concept, in fact it was all too recognisable in his teammates. His singing partner Akito had not expressed his passions in painting like the rest of his family, and even Kohane had experienced her own challenge in convincing her parents to allow her to perform with their squad. Yet, there was always the lingering weight in his chest; the unrelenting reminder that he was straying away from what he was born to do. That his doubts would take fruition over his body and only hold his team back from ever achieving their dreams to surpass Rad Weekend.

Sometimes he felt as if he were still looking through the gaps of metal bars and only fantasising about his ideal world.

It was mere days after he had discovered his father had watched their latest performance, that he had resided to one of the many wooden chairs of the Crase cafe in the Sekai, with a coffee steaming from its mug beside him. It was this moment, in which the voices of his teammates sat around him would muffle into indiscernible white noise, leaving him isolated in a labyrinth of his thoughts. Straying threads of his rationality would fray as the repeating thought enveloped his head- a statement he had brushed away at first- but now was unmistakably bothering him and resurfacing the panicked racing of his heart.

Was he considered family in his father's eyes?

Or between the arguments- the running away, the tethers of their relationship which were clinging for their lives- had their blood become tainted with their differences, until it was unrecognisable. Had he flown so far from home, that he didn't know the direction back? Was the nest destroyed in the thunder which they had blown the flames of?

It was within this void of spiralling fears, that he felt the familiar weight of a hand on his shoulder.

"Oi, Toya, you're spacing out again." His singing partner would warn, moving his hand from his shoulder to nudge Toya's lukewarm coffee toward him.
   "What is it? Another issue come up with your old man?"

He had said it so naturally, that it had taken a moment for their two teammates- An and Kohane- to halt their conversations and glance over (because, right, they were here with a purpose to discuss their next set list). With the recent incident regarding his and his father's perspectives clashing, he had noticed the uprise of his squad's... staring. Whether brief glances or prolonged awkward eye-contact he tried to brush off as spacing out, it was un-negotiable that a new tension lingered in the air. One of concern which Toya was alien to; a persistent doting which never failed to leave an odd feeling whirring in his chest. He couldn't put a name to the new tingles down his spine and ribcage, nor the way his heart pitter-pattered out of his chest swifter than autumn rain, but he discovered that neither felt uncomfortable. Rather, the tingling was warm- fuzzy- alike to the security of a weighted blanket, yet caught aflame with the feverish energy he experienced when he performed.

"We haven't argued this time, no," Toya would respond, noting as his teammate's shoulders relaxed. That tingling warmth brewed in his chest again. Beneath his gaze, the coffee would ripple against the porcelain cup.
   "I'm just letting my thoughts get the best of me."

"Then the set-list can wait." An declared, pushing her phone to the table, before waving Meiko over as the vocaloid stepped from the back of the cafe. Behind her had been Miku, her twin-tails bobbing as she bounced to collect the finished plates of sandwiches (and the additional finished plate of pancakes, unceremoniously doused in too much syrup to be classified as "healthy".)

Kohane would give Miku a fond "thanks" on behalf of the rest of the team, before nodding along with her singing partner's words.
   “An is correct, if there's something troubling you, we will be here to support you as a team."

She spoke with a strength and sugary sweetness to her voice, though perhaps that was just the caramel drizzled marshmallows in her hot chocolate talking. Nevertheless, it made him crack a rigid smile as he finished the last of his now-cold coffee. As if cued on a script, Meiko was there, taking the cup into her hand with ease, and peacefully ignoring the way Miku nearly dropped the four plates she was carrying back toward the kitchen.

"You know, Toya," Meiko would comment, her voice singing through the cafe as she settled down a fresh, steaming coffee before him (because of course she was attentive enough to notice- she had that golden gleam to her eye).
   "There's no pressure to speak about anything you aren't ready to share yet, but within these walls, you haven't got to hide your fears anymore."

"I understand, thank you, everyone," Toya sighed, the warmth emitting from his voice- while not a first- still felt strange on his tongue. It defied the proper manner he had always upheld for his family.
    "I guess it's hard to put my predicament into words. My father and I are keeping the peace right now, but I can't shake this feeling, that..."

Toya almost bit his tongue in trepidation as his reflection within his coffee bore back into his skull. However, despite the unsettling stare of his cold eyes in the boiling liquid, he found that staring into his teammates eyes would be much, much worse. Their sympathetic pupils dilated with senseless pity for a little bird who had estranged himself from his own genetics; his own way of being. They turned a blind eye to his incompetence, they must have, because he couldn't understand why else they would feed him such tender assurances, like a mother bird feeding its young.

Yet, to surpass Rad Weekend, he knew he had to at least try to transform his pain into lyrics; his conflict into dance.

A metamorphosis.

Toya took a sip of his new coffee. Bitter. Burning. Boldening.
   "It's about my father's and I’s relationship. I can't see how to become his son again."

As the words drained from his scratchy throat, the muffled movements of life in the cafe halted. Eyes across different directions bore into him- by no means in anger- but still enough to arise the bile clawing at his chest. He took another sip, this one slightly more hesitant.
   "Apologies, was that too much?" 

Amidst the halted breaths which bore in the room, it was Azusawa who found her voice before them all.
   "A-Aoyagi," she would stutter, a growing flush dusting across her face as she offered a wobbly, awkward smile,
   "It may not be a reassurance now, but, I'm confident your father still sees you as his son. Your relationship may appear difficult to fully understand now, but that's why you can come to us."

Her words were gentle, cradling his overworking mind in a soothing manner, which would've been reassuring if it weren't for the way his eyes fixed to the foamy, milk moustache which had formed across her upper-lip. How she had not noticed the way it should've tickled her skin was beyond him. A must've noticed his gaze, because she snatched the napkin and wiped it away for her singing partner before continuing Kohane's pep talk.
    "She's totally right!" Her cheerful voice hollered, as she reached out to pat Toya on the shoulder (though her strength nearly just dragged him down).
   "Sure, we don't know if your dad will come around-" she began, before pausing momentarily after a burning glare from Akito.

   "-but regardless of that outcome, you'll have us to fall back on. We're like our own little family here!"

Huh. That word. That inconspicuous word which should have flown over his head was suddenly staring back at him with the beady eyes of a crow boring into his soul. 

Family, and the mere idea of using it in terms of their squad? Logically there were similarities which overlapped with the word's typical definition: they had supported him for even the most minuscule achievements, and helped with meals after they'd discovered the gateway to the horrific realm which was his cooking. Even their affection- the small ruffles in his hair from Akito and the animated way An would pull him along to sing- were all indications to a warm, caring family which he had yearned for once before. All the literature he would endlessly scour through for some semblance of connection, or the way his eyes lingered on that of the warm families his friends had around him, they had ultimately been nothing compared to the substantial way Vivid Bad Squad had so effortlessly welcomed him, or the way they carried him along despite his cowardice. 

"Our kind of music doesn't mean anything"

"Family," Toya repeated, the word feeling foreign on his own tongue, like some mythical spell of a fantasy novel. Akito beside him, still raising his brow at An, would audibly sigh with a twitch of his eye.

"So it is the damn old guy then, can't say I'm surprised." He'd speak, and while Toya often scolded him for speaking bad of their elders, he found his throat clogged with hesitance which buried his usual corrections, and perhaps, just a little less regard for wanting to uphold politeness.
   "But what An said was true, sorta. Ain't your typical family, that's for sure, especially when An is anything but normal-"

"Oi!" 

The aforementioned girl reached his hair to rid it unkempt, as was her usual rebuttable. Akito rolled his eyes, followed by a firmer, merciless ruffle of An’s navy locks, leaving a competitive twinkle in both of their eyes.

"Just go with it, dumbass!" He snarled, before glancing to his partner.
   “What I'm trying to say is that we have your back, y'know. We're not going anywhere."

A crossed her arms, clearly in agreement, but still not necessarily happy with Akito's comment nonetheless.
   “You and your stupid wacky outfits are the least normal thing about this group." She hushed under her breath, though not quiet enough.

Akito's glare sharpened. "You and those tacky fucking hair clips should not be talking to me right now-"

"At least I make an effort to make my hair look styled instead of the birds nest you carry-"

Unbelievable. At least in most cases, however, the rate at which Akito and An could bicker was as swift as most of their song tempos. Kohane and Toya would exasperatedly stare across at their teammates, before landing their eyes on each other. They were lucky they were only causing a scene in the Crase cafe, and not in a public space like Weekend Garage. Toya could already hear Ken demanding them to quit the ruckus.

"What I assume the point was, before.." Kohane giggled, gesturing between their barking teammates who were still sending glares to each other even as their bickering lowered to snappy whispers.
   "T-the point... is that we're like a family of our own here, Toya. That includes you too."

Azusawa would innocently smile, causing the tense weights of Toya's shoulders to settle while he blew the last of the scalding steam from his coffee. The logical technicalities beneath what truly created a family were still allusive to him, but staring at his three teammates before him, he found his heart pounding all the same. Perhaps he didn't need to know the ins and outs of a dictionary definition, because nothing could live up to the definition of the reality before him.

Three strange teammates from different paths of life, all joining together toward a common goal, with the help of the supernatural Sekai which guided them toward their true feelings. The people before him were impulsive, ambitious and determined all at once. They drove to do things and do things correctly, even if it meant pushing beyond their limits, and on top of it all, they settled a hand between Toya’s shoulder blades and pushed him to be better. To strive onward.

Perhaps that's what family truly was: a bond beyond blood and science. A bond which made Toya's eyes gleam as he gazed at the passionate embers of life before him.

"I think I understand now. Thank you." 

He'd say, halting the last of An's and Akito's incessant bickering. Toya caught his reflection in his coffee again, and was met with relief. Hope.

A new drive.

"I want to try to patch things with my father where possible, especially now that I know we have a chance to show him the brilliance of Vivid Bad Squad."

Yes, that determination set alight sparks of confidence within his very soul. The music which this team- this family- had endlessly enveloped him with, creating both a drive to reach beyond expectations, but also reminding him that he didn't have to tackle things alone. Not anymore.

"I can only hope you can continue to support my choice, as my friends, and as the family we've created within the squad."

The silence which rested heavily on the cafe table broke with the laughs of the rest of his teammates. Though, they didn't reek of malice, rather, they were light. Joyous in a manner which matched the radiant glow of their ruddy faces, and quickly, Toya found himself smiling too. 

"That goes without question, dude!" Akito would exclaim, raising his glass ceremonially,
   "Because we ain't going anywhere!"

"Damn right," An would continue, her eyes glowing,
    "We wouldn't want to surpass Rad Weekend with anybody else!"

Kohane would also nod in fervent agreement,
   “No matter what, you're family in our eyes, Aoyagi..."

Suddenly, the cafe felt much brighter, warmer, and Toya found himself smiling back, because between the illuminating sparkles that were his teammates' smiles, he knew, there was nothing he couldn't overcome when they all stood side-by-side.

That was the beauty of their family; they would always fly together in murmuration.