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Fuma’s back has always been so broad, so strong and reliable - he can be small, too, sometimes, when he’s making room for their members, stepping aside so that they can get all the attention they deserve. But he’s always been there, waiting in the wings, solid and sure and a safe home for them all to return to at the end of the day.
Yudai thought that nothing would ever change that, that nothing would ever shake Fuma, his foundation too firm and grounded and secure, so it’s with a painful twinge in his chest that Yudai finally, really looks at Fuma for the first time since his knee started acting up - once the car with Maki and Harua is out of sight, he visibly deflates, all 180 centimetres of him still upright, but looking so frail and brittle, shoulders curving in, head bowed low. If Harua’s words are anything to go by, Yudai is the one that did that to him, and maybe a little bit to the rest of the members too, and Yudai curses himself for being so wrapped up in his own pain that he didn’t notice it sooner.
Fuma swings his bag up over one shoulder and shoves his hands into his pockets, walking out towards the main road. He doesn’t usually walk back to their dorms if practice ends this late at night; judging by the slope of his shoulders, he’s probably looking for some time alone.
So Yudai hesitates; he’s standing just outside the main building entrance and he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to call out to Fuma, if he even deserves his attention with how selfish he’s been. He clenches his fists and tries to work up the courage, nails digging into his palms, but before he can even open his mouth, Fuma has stopped at the edge of the pavement. He’s turned to look back - why would he even do that? He’s really got a strange sixth sense when it comes to Yudai - their eyes meet but Fuma looks away just as quickly, lips pulled into a tight frown that twists the knife deeper between Yudai’s ribs.
To Yudai’s shame, Fuma is the one who speaks first. “Kei-hyung, are you done with extra practice already? I thought you’d be a while yet.” It’s just the two of them, but Fuma doesn’t use his given name, even though he always does, it’s always Yudai, or sometimes hyung when he’s feeling especially tender or vulnerable, and Yudai finds that he misses the sound of it so very badly. He struggles to swallow past the lump in his throat.
“Harua convinced me that I don’t need the extra practice!” Yudai tries to inject some lightness into his tone. “So I was just gonna head home.”
Fuma nods curtly, just once. His eyes are still looking anywhere but at Yudai. “You should call a taxi, it’s pretty late.”
Yudai really should, and it’s not hard to get one even at this hour; they’re in a business district and it should only be a short wait, but the thought of watching Fuma walk away from him is unbearable, so he pauses, unsure of what to do.
The lack of response from Yudai seems to make Fuma impatient enough to finally look at him. His eyes are unreadable, but maybe it’s just that they’re standing too far apart. He sighs, shoulders curling even further in on himself, so small and exhausted.
He pulls his phone out of his bag. “I can call one for you, Kei-hyung, just give me a second,” he says, tapping at his screen.
Yudai pushes past his doubt and forces his legs into action. The brace pulls tight at his knee, but it’s surprisingly more comfortable than he expected. He closes the distance between them with a few strides, and places his hand over Fuma’s phone to stop him. Fuma jerks back at the contact like he’s been burnt, and Yudai only just manages to catch his phone in time. He still refuses to look up, careful not to let their fingers touch as he takes his phone back from Yudai.
Yudai can feel his eyes start to get wet, but he refuses to let himself cry - he doesn’t deserve it, and Fuma doesn’t deserve to deal with it either. He sniffs hard, trying to hold it all in.
“I want to walk home with you, Fuma.” Yudai is testing the waters, anxious but determined now. “If- if you’ll let me.”
This at least seems to get a reaction out of him. Fuma’s head snaps up; his brows are pulled tight, teeth gritted, and Yudai braces himself.
“If I’ll let you? Did you think I would, what with your knee the way it is right now? Does it make you feel better, dumping that decision on me? Do you feel justified now?” The street is quiet and there’s no one else around, but Fuma’s voice is no louder than a harsh, trembling whisper. “Is that how you’ve been treating this? Like you didn’t make the choice to push yourself this hard? How could you be so smart yet so fucking stupid, Yudai?”
He takes a breath, chest heaving, and steps back. All the fight has suddenly drained out of him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…” Yudai only catches a glimpse of the look of anguish on his face before he’s turned away again. “Please, just let me call you a taxi, okay?”
Yudai feels his heart break. His eternally patient and understanding Fuma is, devastatingly, angry; he’d been angry in the practice room earlier, too, angry and loud, but this tremulous, quiet anger is much worse. The way he’d said Yudai’s name had felt so wrong, and it’s all Yudai’s fault. They’re standing only an arm’s length apart but the space feels yawning and terrible and Yudai has to do something.
He reaches out and grabs Fuma’s wrist, firm, but not forceful. “Wait, please, my knee feels better now, I’ve even got my knee brace on, see?” He lets go of Fuma’s wrist and rolls his sweatpants up to show Fuma, feeling a little silly, exposed like this on the street. “I’m walking home with you, Fuma,” he says, hoping that his tone will brook no argument.
For a long, horrible moment, Yudai is held in suspense, expecting Fuma to turn on his heel and walk home without him. Instead, Fuma suddenly drops to one knee to inspect Yudai’s leg. He pulls at the velcro straps then presses them back firmly in place, as if to make sure the knee brace is doing its job; Yudai feels his face heating up - if Fuma had dropped to his knee in any other circumstance, Yudai would have said yes, a thousand times over. As it is, his heart is in his throat and his hands are shaking, if only slightly.
Wordlessly, Fuma picks up his bag from where Yudai had placed it on the pavement. He slings both their bags onto one arm, and before Yudai can blink, his chest is plastered to Fuma’s back and his legs have been hoisted up around Fuma’s waist; his arms loop naturally over Fuma’s shoulders, and they’re beginning their long trudge back home.
They’ve gone a few blocks before Yudai feels comfortable enough to hug his arms properly around Fuma’s neck, cheek pressing into the side of Fuma’s head. His back feels so broad like this, so reassuring, and Yudai allows himself to relax, finally finding it in himself to be brave.
“Fuma, I’m… I’m sorry.” The floodgates have opened, and Yudai lets his honesty pour out. “You’re right, I was too stubborn and too proud to admit that I needed the rest. You’ve all been trying to help and care for me, and I pushed you all away. I pushed you away, and I’m sorry.”
He takes a deep breath, letting the smell of Fuma’s skin soothe him. “I went to the company doctor, they prescribed some painkillers, and they also said I just need to not be on my feet so much.” He purses his lips, words sour in his mouth. “We’re in the middle of comeback and the tour is so soon, I- I know I need to be in my best condition, but it never feels like I’ve prepared enough, and I think I let the stress get to me.”
The streets have turned residential, now, streetlights sparse and the glow of the moon all the more obvious for it. Fuma sighs, his breath ghosting across Yudai’s skin, then presses a tentative kiss to his forearm and Yudai aches; he hasn’t felt those lips on him in what feels like forever, he’s almost forgotten how a simple touch like that could melt his worries away.
“You talk like you’re alone in this, Yudai.” Yudai lets himself have a moment to relish in the sound of his name in Fuma’s low, gentle voice, a balm on his soul. “We’re a team, remember? It’s literally in our name.” Yudai can feel Fuma’s reassurance in the lilt of his tone, and can’t help the smile that pulls at his own cheeks. “We’re as prepared as we’ll ever be. Stop doubting us!”
Yudai chuckles at this, despite himself, amazed at how Fuma always pulls him out of his funk so easily. He must be such a weight on Fuma’s back right now, literally, but he feels so light, like he could dance the rest of the way home, stars adorning the pavement as he goes.
“I know, you’re right, I’m sorry,” he laughs, letting his teeth graze the tip of Fuma’s ear. “I’ve been so stupid, will you ever forgive me?”
Fuma’s pace stutters, his arms tightening around Yudai’s thighs. “I shouldn’t have called you stupid, Yudai, I’m sorry. That was inappropriate of me.” Guilt colours Fuma’s words, and Yudai hates that he’s the cause of it, wanting nothing more than to paint them over. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper and yelled at you either, especially not in front of everybody. I even made Taki cry.”
They will have to apologise to Taki later, and to the other members, but for now, Yudai’s top priority is to ease the pain that still lingers in Fuma’s voice. He nuzzles his face into the crown of Fuma’s head, rubbing his nose on the soft brown strands. “I deserved it! Apology not accepted!” He plants a few wet smacking kisses on Fuma’s hair for emphasis, pressing his penitence into Fuma’s skin, hoping to convey even just a tiny fraction of his love in any way he can.
His efforts seem to pay off, because Fuma laughs, a high-pitched giggle, and it’s like the colour has bled back into Yudai’s world in rich, golden hues. His heart thuds in his chest, and he’s sure Fuma can feel it even through the back of his jacket.
There’s a convenience store coming up on their right; it’s the one they frequent because it’s nearest to the dorm, and that’s how Yudai knows they’re almost home. Yudai can hardly wait until they’re back and he can take his time to make up for all the grief he’s caused, starting and ending with the person who’s been silently carrying them through it all.
“I love you, Fuu-chan,” Yudai whispers into Fuma’s ear, and pulls back just enough so he can watch his ear blush red.
To his absolute delight, Fuma murmurs, “I love you too, hyung,” soft and tender into Yudai’s forearm, and Yudai feels so perfectly, magically, absurdly in love, like the whole darn world has turned upside down. He throws his head back and lets himself laugh, properly, the sound ringing out clear in the night air, feeling the joyous tingle of it all the way down in his toes. He’s unstoppable now, they’re unstoppable together, and the knowledge that everything will work itself out blooms warm and comforting in his chest as Fuma takes him the rest of the way home.