Chapter Text
It was 11:30 PM when Tsukasa was alone with Emu in her room. In the rooms nearby, the share house was settling into its usual night-time rhythm. Nene was in her bedroom, laying in her bed with headphones on as she held her Nintendo Switch. The faint, rhythmic click-clack of her controller barely audible through the wall. Down the hall, Rui was also in his room, tinkering with a gadget. Every few minutes, a quiet zap would echo out.
Inside the bubble of Emu’s room, however, the focus was entirely on the Phantom of the Opera script. Initially, Tsukasa wanted to audition for Erik. It was the choice everyone expected. He's loud, commanding, and thrives on spectacle—just like Tsukasa. But when he had first approached Emu for help, a realization had hit him. If he kept choosing characters that mirrored his own theatricality, he would be typecast. To be a true star, he needed to prove he could handle subtlety. He needed to be Raoul.
Emu was helping him prepare for this shift in his craft by giving him pointers of what Raoul’s character should be like, describing his passionate and protective love for Christine.
“You have to remember, Tsukasa-kun, Raoul is not trying to win Christine over,” Emu said softly, sitting at her desk where her folders and schedules were neatly organized. “He wants to be her safe place. It’s not a loud Wonderhoy kind of love that jumps out at everyone. It’s the kind of love that... that feels like a tiny, warm light kept hidden in your hands so the wind won't blow it out.”
“A light kept hidden...” Tsukasa murmured, adjusting his position while sitting on the floor. He looked down at the highlighted lines of his script, his brow furrowing in deep concentration. “So, rather than projecting my devotion to the heavens, I must anchor it here? In this very spot? It's... a daunting challenge for a man of my caliber, Emu. To be 'quiet' feels almost like I am not acting at all.”
There was a beat of silence between them. Then, Emu slid off her chair to sit in front of Tsukasa. “That's why I'm here to help, Tsukasa-kun,” Emu smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Now, let's practice this scene!” She pointed at the rooftop scene.
“This scene?” Tsukasa's eyes widened as he looked down at the paper, feeling his face grow hot from Emu being so close.
“Mhm,” Emu hummed. “It’s the moment Raoul stops being a childhood friend. You have to look at me like you’re afraid I’ll disappear if you look away.” She pulled away slightly, just enough that made Tsukasa wish she stayed as she were. “Ready when you are, Tsukasa-kun.” She encouraged, her voice filled with anticipation.
Tsukasa takes a deep breath, then exhales before reciting his lines. “Why have you brought us here?” his voice was quiet, being mindful of Rui and Nene, who might’ve still been awake.
“Don't take me back there,” Emu whispered in a pleading tone.
“We must return,” Tsukasa countered, his gaze locking onto hers with a sudden, sharp intensity that made his lungs feel tight.
“He’ll kill me,” The words ghosted from Emu’s lips.
“Be still now…” Tsukasa soothed, his voice dropping to a low, velvety register that vibrated in the small space between them.
“His eyes will find me there,” Emu replied, her breath hitching as she leaned a fraction of an inch closer, drawn in by his gravity.
“Christine, don't say that…” Tsukasa strained. How he wished it was Emu’s name that he was calling instead.
“Those eyes that burn,” Emu shivered, her gaze dropping to his lips before darting back to his eyes.
“Don't even think it…” Tsukasa rasped, the words catching in a throat that had gone completely dry.
-
As Tsukasa and Emu continued to recite their lines, the world around them seemed to disappear. They couldn't hear Nene’s gaming controller clicking, nor Rui tinkering with his inventions anymore. It was just them. Tsukasa's heart started to beat faster once he realized that the kiss scene was coming up.
“Share each day with me, each night, each morning…” their voices intertwined in a soft, unrehearsed harmony.
“Say you love me,” Emu whispered, her voice barely audible.
“You know I do,” Tsukasa answered, the confession sounding more like a vow.
“Love me—that’s all I ask of you,” they murmured in unison, their breaths mingling in the mere inches of air left between them.
The final words hung in the air, heavy and sweet. For a long moment, neither of them moved. The script in Tsukasa’s hand crinkled as his grip tightened, but his eyes never left hers.
He watched as Emu’s gaze dropped to his lips again—a lingering, searching look—and this time he found himself mirroring her, his eyes tracing the soft line of her mouth.
When he finally closed the distance and pressed his lips to hers, it wasn't the passionate explosion of a curtain call. It was a soft, lingering pressure. For a few seconds, the script was forgotten, and the only thing that felt real was her warmth against his skin.
He lingered just a moment too long for it to be purely professional before he finally pulled back, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs.
They stayed there for a beat, gazes locked in the dim light of the room. Tsukasa searched her eyes, his breath hitching, waiting for the "acting" to end and the truth to begin.
Then, the spell broke.
Emu’s face suddenly flushed red as she scrambled backward, her fingers flying to her lips.
“Wow, Tsukasa-kun!” she chirped, her voice returning to its familiar, bubbly register, though it wavered with an unmistakable tremor. “That was amazing! You made my heart flutter just like Raoul would! You’re definitely getting the role!”
Before Tsukasa could even find his voice to respond, Emu was on her feet, gently but firmly pulling him up and ushering him towards the door.
“But look at the time! It’s super-duper late!” she laughed, a sound that was just a bit too forced to be natural. “You need your rest for the big audition tomorrow! Goodnight, Tsukasa-kun!”
With a light push, Tsukasa found himself standing in the quiet hallway. The click of the door closing behind him sounded final, leaving him alone in the dim light with nothing but a crinkled script and the lingering taste of peach on his lips.
-
The next morning, Tsukasa woke up tired. He didn't get that much sleep last night. How could he? He couldn't get the feeling of Emu's soft lips against his out of his mind, or how she was quick to push him, both literally and figuratively, away.
He lightly pushed his bedroom door open, rubbing his eyes as he walked into the common area. All of the troupe members were already up and about. Nene was sitting at the dining table in an oversized hoodie, a large mug of herbal tea was in front of her as she held her phone in the other. She was inhaling the steam to prep her vocal cords for a long day of singing classes while staring blankly at her screen that was playing a movie.
“Morning,” Nene mumbled, briefly glancing up at Tsukasa before looking back at the screen.
Rui and Emu were both in the kitchen, doing two completely different things.
Rui was hunched over the kitchen island, his sleeves rolled up as he tinkered with a bulky, metallic box that looked like a cross between a microwave and a high-end espresso machine. It was covered in various toggles and a small microphone sticking out the front right side.
“Ah, good morning Tsukasa-kun!” Rui greeted him without looking up, his voice bright and dangerously energetic for such an early hour. He gave a final turn with a screwdriver, and a satisfying click echoed from the machine’s chassis. “You’ve arrived just in time to witness the dawn of a new age in domestic efficiency."
Tsukasa blinked, his sleep-deprived brain struggling to keep up. “Rui… what have you done to the toaster?”
“The toaster? Oh, no. That was far too primitive,” Rui laughed, finally standing upright and patting the machine with a proud, almost fatherly affection. “Allow me to introduce my latest invention: The Instantaneous Edible Ejector! It is a countertop marvel designed to eliminate the tedious wait times of modern breakfast. One simply states their desire into this receiver, and the machine’s internal heating-grid and materialization chamber do the rest.”
He gestured towards the front of the machine, where you could open and close it. “It’s still in the calibration phase, of course, but what is life without a little risk?” Rui’s eyes gleamed with that familiar, chaotic spark. “Would you like to be the first to request a croissant, or perhaps a bagel?”
“Noooo, I want Tsukasa-kun to eat what I made today,” Emu whined from the other side of the kitchen island, finally looking up from what she was doing. She was preparing a goodie bag.
Emu walked over to Tsukasa and Rui with a bright smile, maybe a little too bright to be real. “Good morning! I prepared this as good luck to you! There's water, fruits, pretzels, and string cheese!” She offered the bag to Tsukasa.
“Oh, thank you Emu—”
“Oh no!” Emu’s head snapped towards the clock with wide eyes. “I have this urgent class lecture that I have to go to, I'm gonna go get ready now!” She ran back towards her room and slammed the door behind her.
Nene, who joined the boys with the large mug in her hand, looked at Emu’s door skeptically. “Even she wouldn't take a class this early, right?”
“You're right, her first class starts at 8,” Rui remarked, his gaze shifting from the closed door to Tsukasa. He leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms as a knowing, slightly mischievous glint entered his eyes. “And usually, she’d spend those extra minutes trying to convince us to do a 'Morning Wonderhoy' circle. That was quite the exit.”
Nene took a long sip of her tea, her eyes narrowing over the rim of the mug. “You were in her room for hours last night, Tsukasa. Audition prep, right?” She set the mug down with a deliberate clack on the island. “Did you do something to her?”
“What? No!” Tsukasa felt a cold sweat prickle at his hairline as he clutched the goodie bag like a shield. “I did nothing but provide the most stellar, world-class rehearsal performance of my life!” Tsukasa declared.
“A ‘rehearsal performance,’ was it?” Rui mused, his voice smooth and entirely unconvinced. “And I suppose this ‘stellar’ performance required a level of intensity that would make our dear Manager flee the kitchen at the mere sight of you?”
“I-It was a very emotional scene!” Tsukasa stammered, his voice cracking upward a half-octave. “The Phantom of the Opera is a work of great passion, Rui! To capture the essence of Raoul, one must tap into the very depths of the soul!”
Rui hummed, a low sound of feigned contemplation. “The depths of the soul, you say? It’s curious then, isn’t it, Nene? Usually, when Tsukasa taps into his ‘soul,’ the house is filled with shouting that I can hear even through my workshop headphones. Last night, however...” Rui paused, tilting his head with a sharp, fox-like grin.
“It was remarkably quiet. Too quiet,” Nene added, her voice flat and accusing. She leaned her hip against the counter, watching Tsukasa squirm. “Did you finally let your ego get so big it took up all the oxygen in the room and she almost fainted?”
“My ego has nothing to do with this!” Tsukasa huffed, though his face was rapidly turning the same shade of pink as the ribbon on his gift bag. “We were practicing subtlety! It was a masterpiece of restraint!”
“And yet,” Rui stepped closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “she looked like a girl who had seen a ghost—or perhaps, a girl who realized her lead actor was taking his role a bit too... literally.”
“I—I don’t know what you’re implying!” Tsukasa yelped, nearly dropping the bag. “I am a professional! A star! I would never—”
SLAM.
Emu’s bedroom door flew open again, cutting Tsukasa off. Emu came sprinting into the common area, her backpack bouncing wildly against her shoulders and her coat half-on. She didn't look at any of them, her eyes fixed entirely on the front door.
“Bye bye everyone! Have a super-duper-wonderful day! Tsukasa-kun, break a leg! Don't wait for me for dinner!”
With a flurry of pink hair and the frantic jingle of the key rack, Emu vanished out the front door, the heavy wood thudding shut behind her.
The kitchen fell into a stunned silence.
Nene slowly turned her head back toward Tsukasa with one eyebrow raised. “You definitely did something.”
Rui let out a soft, delighted chuckle. “It seems your ‘subtlety’ was quite loud enough for Emu to hear it loud and clear. Do try to keep your heart inside your chest during the actual audition, Tsukasa. It would be a shame to stain the stage.”
-
The halls of TSM Shibuya were a blur of lights and the distant sound of drum kits, but Tsukasa moved through them like a ghost.
In his Advanced Movement class, he was a disaster. During a trust-fall exercise, he missed his partner's cues entirely, his mind replaying the way Emu had scrambled backward away from him. When his instructor barked at him to "stay in the moment," Tsukasa could only offer a shaky, unconvincing laugh. The "moment" was twelve hours ago, and he was still trapped in it.
By the time Script Analysis rolled around, his copy of Phantom of the Opera was a mess of frantic, nonsensical notes. Where he should have been writing about the characterization of Raoul’s character, he had accidentally scrawled Emu’s three times in the margin.
He felt raw. Exposed.
When it was finally time for the audition, He stood in the dimly lit wings of the TSM Main Stage. His heart was hammering in a way that made his ribs ache. He clutched the goodie bag Emu had given him, the crinkle of the plastic a grounding reminder of the girl currently running away from him.
While Tsukasa was sitting down on a chair, waiting for his turn, he finally took a look inside the bag and grabbed the bottle of water. He needed to calm himself down if he wanted to get this role.
"Next! Tsukasa Tenma, for the role of Raoul."
Tsukasa took a sip before tightening the lid, and he straightened his blazer. He took a breath, and there it was—the faint, lingering scent of peach from the bag, or perhaps from his own memory.
He walked to the center of the stage, looked at the panel of stone-faced professors, and saw only a small room filled with clouds and fairy lights.
"Ready when you are, Mr. Tenma," the director called out.
Tsukasa took a deep breath, then exhaled before he began to sing.