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Akito could barely hear them anymore.
He could hear the voices, technically—they were all around him, overlapping and rising in volume, each accusation seeming to hit him from a different direction.
Someone was saying something about the key ring again. Someone else was insisting that the timing and motives made sense. There were questions he couldn't answer and conclusions he couldn't understand, and every time Akito tried to force his way into the conversation, another voice seemed to cut across his own.
The actual words were beginning to blur together, reduced to fragments of sound that his mind could barely process.
His breathing had started speeding up, and he knew it. He could feel it in the tightness of his chest, in the way every breath came too quickly and never seemed to reach deep enough into his lungs. His fingers felt cold despite the heat crawling up the back of his neck, and his heart was pounding hard enough that, for a moment, he was convinced everyone around him must be able to hear it.
He couldn't let them see that. He couldn't let them think he was panicking when he was trying to tell them that he was innocent. He had vaguely heard before that people could tell you were lying by your heartbeat, and while he wasn't lying, who knew what these people might twist his heartbeat into?
So Akito swallowed hard and forced himself to breathe through his nose, even though it did almost nothing to settle the frantic rhythm inside his chest. He stood there with his shoulders tense and his fists clenched, forcing himself to listen, forcing himself to keep his head up while his thoughts tore themselves apart.
He hadn't done anything.
That was the only thing he could hold on to. He had gone back to the hotel. He had gone to sleep. Toya had been there; Toya knew, Toya had seen him. He had an alibi. He had not been anywhere near the warehouse when this happened, and neither had Toya, An, or Kohane. They had all been together. They had all gone back to the hotel.
Yet whenever they tried to explain that, somehow, it was turned right back against them. They were cornered.
So, what the hell did they want from him? Why wouldn't they listen?
His key ring had been there. Fine. He couldn't explain that. He couldn't even explain how it had gotten there, and that was the problem. Every time he opened his mouth, he could hear how weak his own explanation sounded.
I don't know.
That was all he had.
He didn't know.
He didn't know why his key ring had been there. He didn't know who had destroyed the warehouse. He didn't know why the glass had been broken or why Cedric's computer had been smashed or why someone had apparently decided to make it look like he and his friends had done it.
He didn't even have a possible explanation for the thing they were accusing him of; there was no secret motive he was hiding, no elaborate scheme that he could suddenly confess to if they just stopped shouting at him long enough for him to speak.
He didn't know anything.
And they didn't believe him.
The thought kept circling back no matter how hard he tried to push it away. They don't believe me.
Akito's jaw tightened as he forced himself to keep listening.
Toya had tried to defend him. An had tried. Kohane had tried. Slade had tried. Even Elena and Rebecca were trying to keep everyone from making a decision they couldn't take back. But somehow, somehow, it was spreading anyway. One piece of suspicion had been enough to drag all of them into it, and now Toya and the others were being looked at like they were guilty simply because they were standing beside him.
What am I supposed to do?
He wanted to scream. He wanted to grab somebody by the collar and shake them until they finally understood that he was telling the truth. He wanted to make them understand that he would never do something like this, not to them, not to their music, and absolutely never to his own groupmates.
He would never destroy someone's work just to win a competition—unfairly and unjust. He would never do something like that to people who had welcomed them, trusted them, and shared their music with them.
And yet none of that seemed to matter.
The harder he tried to explain himself, the more desperate he sounded. The more desperate he sounded, the more suspicious they became. Every word seemed to make things worse, and Akito could feel himself running out of things to say.
That of course made him doubtlessly, clearly, absolutely, unequivocally, beyond any doubt, categorically, emphatically guilty.
His stomach twisted painfully as he swallowed again, trying to keep himself from breathing too quickly, because the last thing he needed was to start hyperventilating in front of everyone.
He could not afford to look panicked. He needed to argue back. He needed to defend himself, his group. He needed to make them understand.
But underneath all of that was a much uglier thought.
What if they don't?
Akito's eyes flicked toward his surroundings, taking in the ruined warehouse and everything that had been destroyed inside it. What if this wasn't something they could just clear up? What if people believed this? What if word got around?
The thought came so quickly that he almost recoiled from it.
Vivid BAD SQUAD. Their music. Everything they'd worked for. Every performance, every connection, every little step they'd managed to take into the street music scene. They had fought for every scrap of recognition and respect they had. They had worked their asses off just to get here, just to stand on the same ground as the people they'd admired for so long.
And now one accusation could tear all of it apart.
Everything.
What would people say if they heard that Vivid BAD SQUAD had destroyed a warehouse to sabotage another group's music?
What would happen if the story spread before they could even prove themselves innocent?
Would anyone want to work with them after that? Would anyone trust them? Would anyone let them perform? Would people look at An, Kohane, Toya, and himself and see a group of talented musicians, or would they only see four kids who had supposedly tried to cheat their way to the top?
Would anyone even believe their music anymore?
His vision seemed to narrow.
I'm going to be sick.
He pressed his lips together and forced himself to stay standing. He couldn't fall apart here. Not while everyone was still looking at him. Not while he still had to make them understand.
Why wasn't anyone believing him?
He hadn't done anything wrong.
So why did he feel like he was the one being cornered?
...
Eventually, somehow, they were allowed to leave. Akito knew they had to count their blessings that Elena and Rebecca still believed in them enough to help them get away from the escalating confrontation, especially when there had been a real possibility that they wouldn't even be allowed to leave for the airport.
Still, Akito barely registered any of it. One moment he had been standing there with the others, surrounded by voices and suspicion, and the next they were walking away from the warehouse. He kept his head down as they made their way toward the street, his feet moving automatically because stopping would mean having to think about where they were going.
They were waiting for a taxi to the airport. They were going home. After everything that had happened, that should have been comforting. They had escaped before things could get any worse, and soon they would be on a plane and far away from this whole mess.
It wasn't comforting.
Akito shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at the ground as they waited, his thoughts continuing to race long after the noise of the warehouse had disappeared behind them. Why? Why had this happened? Why their group? Why his key ring? Why now? His thoughts kept tripping over one another, repeating themselves so quickly that he couldn't separate one from the next.
The warehouse got trashed and I—no, we. We're suspects.
His friends had been dragged into this because of him.
Because of his key ring.
Akito's fingers curled tighter inside his pockets. What the hell are we supposed to do?
He didn't know. He genuinely didn't know.
He was used to fighting. If someone challenged him, he could challenge them right back. If someone doubted him, he could prove them wrong. If someone said he wasn't good enough, he could work harder until they had no choice but to acknowledge him, even when the odds were stacked against him.
But what could he do against something he couldn't explain? What could he say when the evidence existed and he had no answer for it?
He could tell the truth. He had told the truth.
They hadn't believed him.
The thought made his chest tighten again.
They don't believe us.
It was strange how the human mind could turn something invisible into something physical. Akito could feel their stares even though the people from the warehouse weren't here anymore. He could still feel them, as if their suspicion had followed him out onto the street and settled onto his shoulders.
Every stranger who happened to glance in his direction suddenly felt like another person who knew, another person who had heard, another person who was looking at him and wondering if he really was capable of it.
He knew that wasn't rational. He knew he was probably imagining most of it. That didn't make the disgusting feeling disappear.
He wanted to wash it off.
That was the only way he could describe it. He wanted to get somewhere private and scrub away the feeling of being watched, to wash his hands, his face, his hair, everything, until he could stop feeling so exposed. He hadn't done anything. He hadn't done anything wrong. He hadn't even been there.
And yet he felt as though he had been stripped bare in front of everyone.
He was being looked at like a criminal when he hadn't done anything.
How could he make them see that?
How could he prove something he couldn't explain?
Akito's breathing hitched, but he forced it back down. He couldn't lose control here. He couldn't fall apart in front of everyone, not when they were already dealing with enough. So he kept walking, kept his hands buried in his pockets, and tried to force his thoughts into something resembling a straight line.
What happens when people find out?
What if they don't believe us?
What if—
"Akito."
He flinched so hard that his entire body jerked, his heart lurching violently in his chest. For a moment, he didn't know where he was. Then he blinked rapidly and looked at the person standing beside him, his mind taking a second to catch up.
Toya.
Toya's hand was still hovering near Akito's shoulder, having stopped the moment Akito recoiled. Akito stared at him for a few seconds before finally looking around properly. An was there. Kohane was there. Toya was there. Their luggage was beside them, and the waiting area by the check-in stretched around them in a blur of bright lights, announcements, and people passing by with suitcases.
They were at the airport.
They were actually at the airport.
When had they gotten here?
Akito's thoughts stumbled to a halt as he realized he couldn't remember most of the journey. He had been so trapped inside his own head that he'd barely registered leaving the street, getting into the taxi, or arriving here.
Oh.
He looked at his groupmates properly for the first time since they'd left.
They looked tired. An's expression was strained, her usual energy nowhere to be found, while Kohane looked pale and worried, her hands clasped tightly around the strap of her bag. Toya was watching him with an expression Akito knew far too well, and the concern in his eyes made something twist painfully in Akito's chest.
They were worried about him.
The realization hit harder than it should have.
Akito's stomach dropped as he realized that, in the middle of everything going on inside his own head, he'd forgotten that they were there too. They had been dealing with the same accusations. They were probably just as shaken and confused as he was, and yet they had still noticed that something was wrong with him.
I made them worry.
He hadn't even realized how far he'd disappeared into his own thoughts.
Before he could say anything, Toya stepped closer. "Akito," he called out, and this time there was no hesitation when he reached out and pulled Akito into a hug.
Akito went completely still.
Toya's arms wrapped around him, firm and warm, and for a moment Akito couldn't process what was happening. Then An stepped in too, wrapping her arms around them, and Kohane followed a second later, making the embrace warmer. Akito's arms remained at his sides because he genuinely didn't know what to do with himself. His throat burned, and the pressure behind his eyes was becoming harder to ignore.
"We believe you," An said, her voice muffled slightly against his shoulder. "Akito, we believe you."
Kohane's voice came from somewhere beside him, quieter but no less certain. "We know you didn't do it, Shinonome-kun."
Toya held him a little more firmly before quietly adding, "Stop blaming yourself."
That was it.
That was the thing that nearly broke him.
Akito's face twisted before he could stop it. His eyes burned fiercely, and his throat closed around the breath he'd been trying so hard to control.
He wanted to cry. He wanted to completely break down and hide his face away while he sobbed into Toya's shoulder until none of this existed anymore, until the warehouse and the key ring and the accusations and the fear about their future were all gone.
But they were at an airport.
In another country.
Surrounded by strangers.
And, his brain (un)helpfully supplied, he was potentially a suspected felon.
Great.
If anything, he might had actually been more ashamed he almost cried in front of his groupmates. How ridiculous was that? He was still thinking about something like that when he had bigger fish to fry.
Maybe if he were any less drained he might've laughed—maybe let out a 'haha' while internally thinking he was so goddamn pathetic.
Instead, his body finally gave up on pretending it wasn't exhausted. Not completely—he still had enough awareness to know where he was and who was around him. But for a moment, he let every tense muscle go slack. His shoulders dropped, his head sank against Toya's shoulder, and his hands finally came up to grip the back of Toya's shirt.
He breathed in shakily and stayed there, feeling An's arms around him, Kohane's presence beside him, and Toya's hand moving slowly over his back.
They believed him.
They believed him.
The words didn't magically fix anything. Those words didn't erase the ruined warehouse or the suspicion or the fear that everything they'd worked for might somehow come crashing down around them. But they were there, and they believed him. That was enough to keep Akito standing—figuratively and literally.
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to gather himself before he completely lost it. When he finally spoke, his voice came out barely above a whisper, rough and strained from everything he'd been holding inside.
"Not here."
Toya's hand paused against his back.
Akito swallowed hard and pressed his face further into Toya's shoulder, desperately trying to keep himself together. "Please," he mumbled. "Not here."
He couldn't cry here. Not in front of them.
Toya understood anyway. He didn't tell him to calm down, and he didn't ask him to explain. He simply tightened his arms around him, holding him a little closer as though there was no hurry and Akito didn't have to force himself to be okay immediately.
"Okay," Toya whispered.
...
"I'd love to stay in this hug, but—" An finally spoke up, and Akito noticed that her voice sounded a little hoarse. Just a bit.
She cleared her throat and glanced toward the check-in counters, where the line had already begun stretching farther than any of them would have liked. "We have to check in, and that line is getting a little long."
"Ah... right."
It took them a moment to actually pull apart. None of them commented on what had just happened, and Akito was grateful for that. There was no awkward attempt to laugh it off, no questions about whether he was okay, no mention of the fact that he—the guy who his groupmates have never seen crying—had nearly started crying in the middle of an airport in a foreign country.
They simply let the hug end when it needed to end, as though they all silently understood that there were some things they didn't need to talk about in front of a crowd.
Akito rubbed at his eyes with the heel of one hand, more out of habit than necessity. Somehow, they weren't even that wet.
He'd gotten dangerously close, but apparently his body had decided it would rather torment him by leaving him with a burning throat and a headache instead. He sniffed once and looked away from the others, embarrassed by the entire situation despite knowing none of them were laughing at him.
"Tch. Fuck you all," he muttered, though there wasn't any real bite behind the words. "Tryna make me cry at an airport."
"Shinonome-kun almost made us cry too," Kohane admitted, and the fact that she sounded just as close to losing her composure as he had been made Akito glance at her.
He was still quieter than usual, still looked like someone had wrung him out and left him to dry, but at least he was looking at them again instead of staring through them.
An seemed to notice it too, because the relief in her expression was almost impossible to miss. Kohane's shoulders had relaxed as well, and even Toya's face had softened now that Akito was at least talking back to them.
Apparently that was enough to reassure them that he was still himself.
They hated seeing him like this. Akito knew that much now, that he was conscious enough to realize what he had done while he was somewhat out of it.
He'd spent the entire taxi ride and the walk through the airport buried inside his own head, barely speaking unless someone directly addressed him, and every time he'd apologized for something stupid, he'd caught one of them looking at him like they wished he would stop.
He hadn't meant to apologize so much. It just kept slipping out.
Sorry for making you worry. Sorry for being quiet. Sorry for making things difficult. Sorry that his key ring had been there. Sorry that they'd all gotten dragged into it.
Every time the words came out, An would frown, Kohane would immediately tell him he didn't need to apologize, and Toya would give him that look that somehow made Akito feel even worse.
He knew he wasn't acting like himself. And they noticed.
"Okay," An said, shifting the strap of her bag higher onto her shoulder as she looked toward the check-in line again. "Kohane, let's go! We should probably go before it gets even worse."
Kohane nodded immediately. "Mhm!"
She hesitated for a second, looking between Akito and Toya as though she wasn't entirely comfortable leaving them behind, but Akito caught the look and waved one hand dismissively.
"Go," he said. "We're fine."
An raised an eyebrow at him. "You sure?"
"Yeah. I'm not gonna do anything stupid while you're gone. Just go."
The corner of An's mouth twitched, and for a second she looked almost relieved to be able to bicker with him again. "Fine. But we're coming back, so don't go running off!"
"I'll be right here."
Kohane gave him one last look before following An toward the check-in counters. The two of them disappeared into the growing line together, leaving Akito and Toya standing beside their luggage.
For a few seconds, neither of them said anything.
Akito watched An and Kohane until they were swallowed up by the people around the counters, then looked away. The airport suddenly seemed much louder without the other two beside him.
Announcements echoed overhead, wheels rattled against the floor, and people talked around them in languages he only partially understood. Normally, none of it would have bothered him. Right now, every unfamiliar sound seemed to make his nerves twitch.
He reached down and started checking the outside of his bag.
There wasn't really anything wrong with it. He knew that. He wasn't even sure what he was looking for.
His fingers simply kept moving, touching the zipper, checking the little accessories clipped onto the side, making sure everything was still there. He tugged lightly on one of the keychains, then another, then checked the zipper again. His movements were quick and repetitive, and he only realized what he was doing when Toya looked down at his hands.
"Akito."
Akito paused. "What?"
"Could I try something?" he said, pointing with his finger towards the bag
Akito frowned at him, then looked back at the collection of keychains hanging from the outside of his bag. "Try what?"
Toya stepped a little closer and reached toward them, but stopped before touching anything. "With these. If you're okay with it."
Akito looked at him for a moment before giving a small shrug. "Sure."
Toya carefully gathered several of the keychains together. They were a mismatched collection of things Akito had picked up over time, little charms and trinkets he'd gotten from events or shops, things he liked enough to keep attached to his bag. Normally they just hung beside one another, easy enough to remove whenever he wanted.
He took two of the loops and threaded one through another before hooking it back around the neighboring keychain. He repeated the process with another, then another, until several of them were linked together in a loose, complicated tangle.
Akito watched his hands. "What're you doing?"
"I'm making them harder to take off," Toya explained, adjusting one of the loops so it wouldn't slip free as easily. "If someone tried to take one, they'd have to work through all of these first."
Akito stared at the little cluster.
It was such a simple thing. Almost stupidly simple.
Toya wasn't trying to solve the mystery (yet). He wasn't pretending he knew how the key ring had ended up in that warehouse. He wasn't telling Akito that everything would magically be okay, because neither of them knew that yet.
He was... trying to ease Akito's anxiety. With a fairly convoluted idea, sure. But still—
"I don't know if this will be inconvenient later," Toya admitted, glancing up at him. "It might be harder for you to remove the keychains yourself."
Akito's eyes remained fixed on the tangled loops.
"But if you need to take one off," his partner continued, "You can just ask me. I'll take it apart for you."
Akito didn't answer immediately. His fingers hovered near the keychains, but he didn't touch them. He looked at the little arrangement Toya had made, then at Toya himself, and something in his chest tightened in a way that wasn't quite painful this time.
It was such a Toya thing to do.
No grand reassurance. No attempt to solve something he couldn't solve. Just a tiny, practical gesture that said I'll help you with this without actually needing to say it.
Akito swallowed.
"...Thanks," he muttered.
Toya smiled faintly.
Akito looked back at his bag.
The keychains were tangled together now, far more securely than before. It wasn't much. It didn't fix anything. His key ring was still missing from wherever it was supposed to be, the warehouse was still destroyed, and there was still a very real possibility that this whole mess wasn't going to disappear just because they'd made it to the airport.
But his hands finally stopped checking them. Instead, one of his hands went and found Toya's, intertwining together.
He looked over to where Kohane and An had walked earlier.
As long as they still believe me, I'm gonna be okay. I'm gonna be fine.