'Lion' - [Reita/Uruha] 3a/?

[colberry]

Title:  Lion
Description:  When Uruha said he'd like to experience the simpler, innocent feeling of childhood again in his now-hectic life, this wasn't what he had in mind.
Chapter:  3a/?
Pairings:  Reita/Uruha, Aoi/Ruki
Genre:  Fluff, slight crack, romance, drama
Rating:  PG-13

Notes:  See?  I told you there'd be an update!  :P

 

03a


Reita was pretty sure Kai was having an embolism.  He had been staring at the screen of his cell phone, and periodically ripping his eyes away to stare instead at Kouyou (who had almost finished his waffles by now), for a good four minutes.  The bassist finally huffed, reaching over to violently pluck the device from Kai’s grip.  He glanced at the message, felt a trickle of dread settle into his stomach (because ‘problems’ were anything but normal hiccups by now), before he was sidetracked by the drummer abruptly clamoring out of his seat.

 

“Uruha!  Fuck; okay don’t worry.  We’re going to get you back to normal, okay?”

“Kai – ”

“Did you eat anything weird – Reita don’t you dare say anything about my cooking – or drink something that was spiked?”

“…Kai – ”

Kai was grasping a startled Kouyou’s shoulders at this point, “Were there any creepy, voo-doo-y people you talked to at the bar last night?  Uruha, we’ve been over this!  You’re not supposed to talk to anyone who looks any more eccentric than Ruki!”

“—Kai!”

“And you!”  Kai suddenly turned to glare at the bassist, “What the hell were you doing when this was happening!?”

Reita gaped, previous frustrations over Kai’s incessant questioning and obliviousness traded in for defensive anger, “Me?  I was the one who dragged his ass home after he passed out, you dumbass!”

The blonde-haired man flitted his eyes to Kouyou for a split second, still encased in Kai’s grip.  Seeing the distressed expression slowly creeping into the boy’s jovial features made him take a breath and calmly try to diffuse Kai’s hysteria, “Look.  We stepped out of the bar, talked for a bit, and then he passed out.  I wake up in the morning by the scream of death and find him like this.”

Kouyou furrowed his brow at his friend’s words, absently squirming in the brunet’s grip.  He watched the frown on Akira’s face and tilted his head with concern, “Did he faint like you did when you saw my stitches that one time, ‘kira?  Is he okay?”

Reita and Kai paused.  Kai loosened his grip, but turned the boy gently so he could look him in those innocent, doe eyes.  He made sure his voice was soft, taking Reita’s queue, and spoke with a semblance of shaky calm, “Uruha – ”

Kouyou timidly cut in, “Why do you keep calling me that?”  He bit his lip and averted his eyes from Kai’s, “’kira called me that earlier, too.”

Kai looked taken aback, knuckles fading back to a normal flesh color as he let his hands merely rest on Kouyou’s shoulders.  “What?”

“He doesn’t remember, Kai.  He’s not ‘Uruha’.  He’s just Kouyou.”

Seeing the bemused look of forehead wrinkles and twitching eyebrow on Kai’s face, Kouyou’s eyes widened and he quickly patted his shoulder in assurance, thinking he had somehow offended the man, “But it’s a nice name, honest!  It’s pretty.”

Kai couldn’t help but think of how small that hand was as it rested on his shoulder – and how it belonged to the same man whose fingers have wrapped around the neck of a heavy-weight, monstrous guitar and made it scream.  He looked to Reita helplessly for a moment, unsure of what to even make of the situation that was increasingly become warped and twisted at his kitchen table.  All he wanted was a day to recuperate from the bottle of red wine he had consumed last night; maybe get a load of laundry done and finally get around to buying some groceries for his anorexic fridge.  But no, of course not – he really should have known better that a simple Tuesday was not to be if his crazed band had anything to say about it.

Reita caught Kai’s blatant expression of panic and subsequently tried to catch Kouyou’s attention, lest the well-meaning youngster thought his comfort to the brunet was being ill-received, “Yeah, it’s definitely… pretty.  Isn’t it pretty, Kai-san?”

The drummer blinked, brain beginning to numb as it tried to process the nonsensical situation, “What?”

Reita set a hand on Kouyou’s shoulder, the boy looking up at him with curious eyes when he felt those lithe fingers.  “I said, isn’t Kouyou right that ‘Uruha’ is a pretty name.”

He could hardly remember to put shoes on in the morning in his haste and preoccupation with managing a team of band members who were miscreant dorks ninety-percent of the time when they weren’t being rock stars and glorified pieces of man-candy (along with macho-bandleader, Kai also had a black belt in ego-popping).  Thus, it was completely suitable to say that the abrupt switch in topics from “by the way, here’s our lead guitarist who just happened to have shrunk overnight – enjoy” to “gosh, isn’t the name Uruha just grand?” made his already on-the-fritz sanity start to creak and crumble.

“Yes.  It’s fantastic.  Best name ever.”

Kouyou grinned wide and nodded, tugging on Reita sleeve behind him, “Kai-san likes it ‘kira, see?  Does that mean he likes me too if he calls me that?”

Reita was less enthusiastic by Kai’s response, eyeing the brunet warily as the aforementioned man made visible attempts to not completely decimate the kitchen in a typhoon of lunacy in the next two point five seconds.  His left eye twitched.  The blond laid a hand on Kouyou’s fingers clutching at his sleeve, unconsciously pulling him closer just in case Kai flipped over the kitchen table. 

He had seen Kai panic-stricken before.  It got dangerous.

Reita inadvertently ignored Kouyou’s innocent question, not noticing the bright gleam in the younger’s eyes slowly fade to an unsure haze, as he slowly questioned Kai, “Are you okay, man?  You look really white,” He flicked his gaze to the drummer’s hands that were gripping the edge of the table, “And crazy.”

Kai seemed to deflate at those words, head in his hands and elbows digging into his mahogany table.  His eyes were wide and brow troubled as he murmured, “I can’t even comprehend this.  It’s not like we can take him to a doctor.  I don’t even know what to…”

As if on cue, there was an urgent, brusque knock on the door.  Kai immediately stood, a look of strangled control taking over his visage, “Shit.”

It was either child protective services or Aoi.

He didn’t know what would be worse.

Reita followed at once with Kouyou hesitantly tagging along behind him.  His little brow was furrowed in abject confusion.  Everything had seemed fine when Kai placed the waffles in front of him.  They tasted really good, better than mom’s, and the dimpled man seemed so happy and fun.  Kouyou didn’t understand why Kai was so odd now, the brunet frowning and pacing and making Akira uncomfortable. 

He tried to grab onto Akira’s hand to reassure him – ask him why he was upset too – but was too slow as the man lifted his hands to Kai’s shoulders, murmuring something about balance and ‘just-let-me-answer-it-and-go-sit-down’.  Kouyou frowned, looking down at the floor.  He couldn’t think of anything he could have done to make them both upset.  He peered up from his dark bangs cautiously.  Was Akira mad about Kouyou saying he didn’t like his eggs?  And maybe Kai-san was upset he ate all his food…  Kouyou jerked his head up in terror, eyes wide and biting his lip – maybe Kai-san had no food left because Kouyou ate it all! 

“Kai, seriously, go sit down.  You’re going to pass out.”

“Reita, let go of me.  Whatever problem Aoi has, it can’t be as bad as this, right?  I mean, this is worst case scenario.  Right here.  I dare Aoi to make this any worse than it is.”

The bassist groaned as he realized there was no way of making Kai, who had tightened his jaw in determination, sit down and stay put.  He retreated, turning around to join Kouyou only to find that the young boy watching him guiltily, a wet sheen glimmering in his caramel irises. 

Before Reita could ask what was wrong and promise him that whatever it was, it was okay – Kai opened the door.

Mother of god. 

He hated Tuesdays.  Period.

Aoi took in the gleam of stressed-out insanity in Kai’s eyes and hesitated, “So..  We have a situation.”

The guitarist was looking a little disheveled:  floral shirt thrown on haphazardly, hair in disarray and – was that glitter on his shoes?   But it was nothing compared to the sight next to him.  Kai choked, eyes widening and fingers tightening on the doorknob.  Disbelieving, chocolate eyes stared back at him.  Kai sounded breathless, “R-Ruki-kun?” 

He quickly turned to Aoi, feeling lightheaded, “Are you kidding me?”

The elder silently shook his head, feeling the vocalist of seven-years-past uncomfortably shift from foot to foot next to him.  He was almost half-hidden behind the taller man, peering out beneath his blond-streaked bang and watching how this Kai gaped and sputtered.  He glanced at his arms, distracted by how the muscles rippled and flexed as the drummer squeezed the knob intermittingly.  Ruki felt something constrict in his chest as he realized they were arms of someone who pounded with all their heart for years – of wing-clipped dreams becoming reality.      

Kai let go of the doorknob and sighed heavily, running a hand through his short locks, “Fuck, fuck.”

The brunet stiffly walked back into the house past Reita and Kouyou, who had retreated into the living room, to collapse into the couch.  Still outside on the welcome mat, Ruki eyed Aoi with concern as he bit his lip, “This is fucking weird.”

Aoi started to make his way into the apartment, shucking off his shoes (and the evidence of his battle with the glitter-mat) and rolling his eyes as he watched the slighter frame of Ruki nervously shuffle after him, “You’re one to talk.”

Ruki couldn’t retort and he couldn’t do much of anything but follow Aoi, eyes trained on the elder’s back, and think.  When the door had opened and the slightly panicked but mostly calm countenance of Kai had poked his head through, the twenty-year-old nearly gasped aloud.  It was just so… different.  And suddenly it wasn’t just Aoi who had changed, grew up.    

Kai had always possessed a kindred spirit, a warm presence and a dimpled smile.  But his last vivid memory of the man was one of spitfire – two furious tempers colliding backstage after a less than stellar concert where they had been a beat behind the entire time.  It was one where Aoi pushed Kai up against a wall, knocking his head into the hard plaster and Kai pushing back with a snarl, punching the elder in the lip.  Ruki could remember the blood from Aoi’s piercing, the strong hands of Reita and Uruha holding the two back as they growled and snapped…

Kai and Ruki hadn’t had a chance yet to get closer – and after that incident which occurred a week ago in Ruki’s time – the vocalist was slightly apprehensive of brushing against a person who’s very entity could change so rapidly and completely. 

Aoi started to make his way into the apartment and Ruki slowly followed, cautious and feeling so far out of the loop between the two of them.  He didn’t know them anymore.

It seemed that Kai was slowly coming back to his senses whilst on the couch, realizing that the situation was even more dire than he once thought.  They all obviously needed a leader to call the shots and make waffles for everybody.  Kouyou was beside him, softly whispering, “Do you feel better Kai-san?  I’m sorry I ate all your food.”

Reita was kneeling beside him as well, silently relieved that he didn’t have to take up the role of rationality, and glanced behind him at Aoi who was looking upon the scene with confusion.

He snorted, “So what’s the problem?  Someone hack into your twitter and start posting gay porn?”

Aoi immediately colored, sputtering.  Was he that glaringly obvious?  He knew he shouldn’t have worn this damn shirt – couldn’t a guy wear paisley and not have it be automatically assumed that he had frolicked in a field of daisies to get it?  He must have been the most manly-looking man in this band!  Kai was too busy baking cakes, Ruki was too fascinated by outlandish glitter, Uruha was too feminine for his own good and Reita was obviously overcompensating.  So, it shouldn’t matter that he happened to adore floral shirts.  They were divine in his opinion.

“It’s just a fucking shirt!”

“What’s a ‘twitter’?”

Reita pointedly ignored Aoi’s breathless exclamation to hone in on the short figure nesting by the guitarist’s side.  Something seemed off.  “What the hell, Ruki?  You have one.  And what is up with your hair?  You know that blond streak annoyed the crap out of me back then.”

Ruki, despite his awe in how this Reita no longer looked like the scruffy kid who was almost too slight to sling around a bass and rather like the man he always bragged that he ‘was’, bit back sharply, “You’re still wearing that stupid thing?  You’d think you would have suffocated by now.” 

The bassist looked taken aback, Kai appeared slightly amused and Kouyou stared up curiously at Aoi who had spotted the child on the couch and was gazing back at him in mounting horror.  Reita growled lowly, “At least I didn’t lose a foot in height overnight, fucking midget.”

Rather than seeing absolute crimson and proceeding to rip Reita’s head off with just his two pinky fingers, Ruki’s anger vanished to be replaced by a gleaming sort of hope, head tilting to the side, “I’m taller now?”

Reita stared at Ruki in abrupt confusion before he swiveled his gaze over to Aoi and asked casually, “You didn’t feed him paint chips on your way over here, did you?  And what the fuck is on your pants?  Lose a fight with a fairy?”

Aoi wasn’t paying attention to Reita’s drivel.  He slowly pointed at Kouyou’s innocent visage, voice low and a bit hoarse, “Please tell me you stole this kid.”

Kai countered, “Please tell me Ruki’s twenty-seven.”

A silence pervaded the room, tension growing as Aoi and Kai stared at each other with realization glinting in their eyes.  When neither reassured the other, Kai started to sink low into the cushions while Aoi bit his lip and stared at Kouyou in askance.  Meanwhile, Reita observed the scene with a risen eyebrow, eyeing drummer and guitarist back and forth before finally settling on Ruki. 

Come to think of it, the man did look a little more…youthful.  But Kai’s apartment did have awesome lighting so even Aoi’s faint laugh lines were sufficiently smoothed away.  And explaining the hair was simple – Ruki always changed, he practically was change, and who’s to say he didn’t go to the beauty salon at seven o’clock in the morning?  It wouldn’t have been the first time…

But Ruki was looking at him now, staring right back at him with those sepia irises that were harboring some tendril of before – and Reita knew this wasn’t a simple matter of the vocalist’s obsession with hair dye.  This was…

Reita promptly freaked out.

“Mother of fucking god, what the hell is going on here!?”

The bassist ripped himself out of his seat and began to burn a path into Kai’s carpet at the rate of his pacing.  Eyes wide, nostrils flared, Reita proceeded to exclaim profanities whilst the others (including virgin-ear Kouyou) looked on, “What the ever-living fuck!?  Now what are we supposed to do?  This is ridiculous – I don’t – I can’t even – ”

Kai felt a tug on his sleeve and turned to find a bewildered Kouyou whispering to him with concern, “Kai-san, ‘kira is turning blue.”

The drummer smiled weakly at the child, patting his head absently and tried to placate the hyperventilating man (and save his carpet from further turmoil), “Reita, you need to calm – ”

Reita whipped his head violently towards Kai’s pale visage, eyebrows furrowing deeper as he brought up his hands to tug on his roots in frustration, “Don’t tell me to be calm!  How can you be calm!?  Our band – our friends –  are being reduced to pint-size status!”

Kai could feel Kouyou shrink back the slightest bit next to him.  He placed a hand on the younger’s head in assurance, “You kept your cool when you found out about Uruha.  Freaking out now isn’t going to solve anything.” 

“B-But – we could be next!”

Ruki stared openly as Reita continued to rant and rave, “Is he always like this?”

Aoi, too exhausted between discovering Ruki’s ‘little situation’ to making sure he was still locked tight in that metaphorical closet to waking up before noon, merely sighed with an air of abandon, “I guess none of us are feeling like ourselves today.”

Ruki hummed lowly, wide eyes jumping from a frantic bassist to an exasperated Aoi-san to a bewildered child and finally to a tentatively calm Kai.  He was still stuck to the raven-haired guitarist’s side, finding a gossamer solace in the elder’s presence.  Aoi had always been a sort of homeless haven, offering what he could despite his penchant for baring his jowls from time to time.  But this Aoi, despite his tense shoulders and fidgeting hands, was something lighter.  Ruki couldn’t help but to stay near him, inching away from the calamity of Reita’s pacing and cursing.

He was already frazzled – waking up in a strange apartment, realizing he was in a different era, beginning to notice that even the people he considered family were suddenly so different.  They weren’t the same.  Aoi was mumbling something or other to Reita (“—And I don’t have gay porn on my twitter.  That only happened once and I’m pretty sure I know who posted it…”), but Ruki let his gaze linger on the drummer for a moment too long, biting his lip in thought. 

Even if Aoi and Reita were older now, they still held some facet of themselves from ‘before’.  Reita was still wearing that stupid band and still letting each emotion flare up in his chest and explode.  Aoi was still modestly quiet and still wearing less-than-desirable articles of clothing (he inwardly winced at the memory of first seeing that pastel pink, floral shirt).  Even Uruha, though the taller man was obviously running late as usual, probably still smiled those huge, goofy grins and still worshipped his video game stash with unhealthy devotion.  But Kai…  He didn’t know Kai at all. 

The man in question seemed to notice Ruki’s heated stare and swiveled his head towards him.  A cautious smile blossomed on the elder’s face as he asked gently, “Why are you looking at me like that, Ruki-kun?”

The younger could feel his cheeks heat up minutely at being caught and thrown into the spotlight.  Irritated by his own embarrassment, Ruki scowled before he blurted out without an ounce of filter, “Because the last time I saw you, you sucker-punched Aoi-san in the mouth.”

He heard an indignant and slightly strangled squawk rip from Aoi’s throat and Reita stopped his pacing to whip his head towards the guitarist in blatant remembrance.  Kai seemed to pause in bemusement, apparently not able to recall that bitter night backstage or the icepacks that followed, and was about to open his mouth to retort in the negative when Reita suddenly guffawed.

“Oh man!  I remember that!  Dude, you totally crumbled.”

Aoi grit his teeth, jaw tightening, and Ruki almost thought he would see a piece of the old-Aoi flicker back to life – a gnashing, spitfire piece – but was surprised when the elder only growled out, “It was a lucky shot.”

Kai’s brow was still furrowed in thought, but Reita seemed to remember the incident quite clearly with a huff of amusement, “That’s bullshit.  You were wide open.”

“Wait, when was this – ”

Ignoring the question posed by the person ultimately responsible for Aoi’s wounded pride and lip that fateful day, the elder crossed his arms and snorted, “Whatever.”

Reita snickered, seeming to calm down from his nail-biting worry with the distraction of memory, “Who thought it’d be our sweet, cheesecake-baking Kai-kun to put you in your place.  You really used to be a hellcat back then.”

Aoi sighed, wanting to rather not relive his stubborn, fury-slathered days nor the punch that finally opened his eyes to his horrid behavior.  Ruki watched the exchange with something akin to awe. 

And so was Kouyou, who pointedly poked Kai on the arm and chastised softly, “Fighting’s bad.”

With those whispered words, the whole room seemed to remember the precise reason why they were gathered in Kai’s apartment at an absurdly early hour in the morning – along with Aoi realizing he hadn’t had his daily fix of caffeine.

 
&&&

“Okay, so here’s our situation.  Uruha’s seven.  Ruki’s twenty.  We’re still old.  What the fuck.”

After practically raping the innocence out of Kai’s coffee machine, the group had gathered in a poor attempt at a circle in the living room.  Kouyou was nestled against Reita’s side, fidgeting with his hands and not sure what was going on and why he was still being called “Uruha” – he peeked at the man across from him.  He was pretty sure his name had something to do with flowers (he sure liked them a lot, Kouyou figured, eyeing the salmon shirt in curiosity).  He wasn’t sure why, but something about the slightly out-of-sorts, raven-haired man made him want to giggle and tug on Akira’s sleeve and whisper, “He’s funny, isn’t he ‘kira?” 

Aoi, unaware of Kouyou’s gleeful assessment, was currently nursing a hot mug of coffee like it was his last connection to reality – which probably wasn’t too much of an exaggeration at this point – and tapping his fingers restlessly against the ceramic.  He snorted at Reita’s quick evaluation, sneaking a glance at Ruki who had huddled in the corner of the couch next to him in silence, “Duly noted, thanks.”

Kai furrowed his brow, putting a thumb to his lip in thought, “There has to be a logical explanation…”

Aoi shot the drummer a withering look, “I’m pretty sure logic has become extinct.”

Scowling at the elder’s abrasive tone, Kai shook his head, “Well there has to be a reason for this – people don’t just lose a decade or two of their life over night.”

Ruki curled himself deeper into the corner of the couch, averting his eyes to stare at the cream-colored carpet.  It was unsettling – the whole thing made his heart stutter and nerves fray.  Ever since Aoi had whispered that it was 2010, Ruki knew things would be different.  How could things not change in seven years’ time? 

But still, seeing Kai’s muscled arms (from dedicating each part of himself to that dream), the confident set to Reita’s shoulders (from years of never giving up) and Aoi’s laugh lines (from finally finding his smile) – he couldn’t help but feel a dull ache throb in his chest from missing it all.  But then again, he was there.  Just… not this “him”.    

Ruki forced down the irritated growl of mounting frustration. 

Aoi, however, seemed to hear the almost inaudible quiver in his throat.  The vocalist could feel the elder shift faintly, and imagined the concerned dip in his brow as the guitarist quietly regarded him.  Ruki glared at the carpet, shoulders hunching over the slightest bit in an attempt to tear Aoi’s chocolate eyes off of him – effectively channeling an irritated feline. 

Before Aoi could lowly whisper are-you-okay? and you’re-kinda-crushing-Kai’s-prized-pillows, Reita was spouting off perfectly reasonable explanations, “Black holes?  Bermuda triangle?  Aliens?”

“Reita, be serious please.”

“Fine.  Extraterrestrials?”

Aoi held back a snort, the black look on Kai’s face clearly indicating the drummer was Not Amused.

Not even deeming Reita’s sass a response, Kai let out a suffering sigh and turned to the remaining adult guitarist, “You were the one who took Ruki home last night, right?  Did anything out of the ordinary happen?”

Oh, fuck.

“Um…”

Aoi couldn’t stop the red from seeping into his cheeks or the tightening in his chest.  It was just an innocent question right?  It’s not like Kai knew or anything.  But even so, he had always been a shit-liar and it’s not like he could casually say: “oh, well I totally tried to snog him at his door last night, but nope – didn’t see any extraterrestrials”.  All eyes had snapped towards him and were waiting, including Ruki – intrigued in what transpired between his older self and the guitarist – who was gazing at him with an unreadable look.  It was almost shy, almost hopeful.

“You took me home?”

Fuck, fuck. 

“Um, yeah.  You were – he was drunk so I took him, uh… home.”

Everyone stared.

“…and then went out and kissed a girl.”

Kai raised a brow, not comprehending what the significance was of where Aoi’s tongue had been, while Kouyou gasped, “Really?  Was she pretty, Flower-san?”

He definitely needed to get rid of this shirt.  Right after he threw away his glitter-spattered shoes.  “Yeah, she was…”  Aoi bit his lip and tried not to twitch or glance at the man beside him, “…nice.”

Too preoccupied having a minor stroke as he tried to lock his closet even tighter, Aoi missed the flicker of disappointment in Ruki’s downcast eyes.

Kouyou was riveted, leaning in with wide eyes as he innocently asked, “Was she as pretty as ‘kira?”

The rest of the room wasn’t sure whether Reita’s face had turned a nearly perfect shade of magenta from the comment itself or due to the fact that the precarious sip of coffee had turned treacherous.  Spluttering, not able to dismiss the notion that he was “pretty” fast enough, the bassist wheezed through pounding at his chest, “Not…”  wheeze, cough, gasp, “…pretty!”

Even Ruki, who had taken to brooding quite heavily in the corner of the couch, was smirking in amusement as Reita continued to choke and deny while Kouyou began to fuss with concern.

He tugged on Reita’s sleeve with the kind of insistence only a child could exude, “But you are, ‘kira!  I promise!”

“You are looking positively divine today, Rei-chan.”  Ruki grinned toothily at him.

Torn between the warm, tingly feeling in his chest and the blatant refusal to be called “pretty” in front of his snickering bandmates, Reita viciously shook his head.  With one last hack, the bassist placed a hand over Kouyou’s tiny fist which was nearly glued to his sleeve, “I’m not pretty, Kouyou.  Men aren’t pretty.”

Oblivious to the stares and huffs of amusement, Kouyou furrowed his brow and regarded Reita with wide eyes, “Even if it’s true?”

The blush was spreading from his cheeks to the back of his neck and the tips of ears, “It’s not true, Kou.  Stop saying weird things.”

Kai bit his lip, watching the child start to curl into himself with rejection.  He could understand Reita’s insecurity with being called that frilly word – he was silently thanking his luck that Kouyou didn’t deem him beautiful or flower-like – but as he saw Kouyou nibble at his own lip, the drummer frowned at the blonde-haired man.  “Reita, don’t be – ”

“Okay…”  Kouyou released the tight hold on Reita’s sleeve.  His eyes were slightly glassy, the apartment’s lighting making the irises seem to glint and waver.  He didn’t understand why Akira was so upset, why his arm had jerked from his touch, why his voice was suddenly so rough. 

Fidgeting with his hands in his lap, Kouyou tried to stop biting his lip, but couldn’t ignore the anxiety in his stomach.  He hadn’t wanted Akira to be mad – he only wanted to reassure his now-adult friend that he was perfect (still perfect).  Kouyou ducked his head and clasped his fingers tight.  He remembered when Renji had made fun of Reita’s button nose after the elder threw a punch at the boy for teasing Kouyou.  He didn’t think Akira had minded – the elder only jamming his knuckles into Renji’s teeth one more time before swinging an arm around Kouyou’s shoulders and leading him away – but as the child eyed the ostentatious noseband, doubt started to trickle into his heart.

Despite the tense atmosphere that decided to pervade the room with Kouyou’s soft acquiesce, Aoi was melting with utter relief at the diversion.  The situation was already awkward enough – a ‘coming-out’ / ‘crushing-on-Ruki’ hoopla didn’t need to add to anymore strain to the band’s already fragile sanity.  The raven-haired guitarist could feel a steady pulse ramming against the inside of his temples.  The coffee wasn’t working. 

With a resounding clap of his hands, Kai suddenly broke the uneasy silence with a grim nod of his head, “Well, there’s one thing we can say for sure:  we can’t risk waiting this out and hoping everything will be back to normal by the time the first live rolls around.  We’re going to have to cancel tour dates until we get this mess resolved.”

“No!” Ruki was suddenly sprung from the corner of the couch to his feet, hands clenched at his sides, “Don’t cancel anything!  It’s not that bad – I can totally learn the songs and it’s not like any of us are sick or out of commission – ”

Aoi coughed rather unsubtly and jerked his head towards the seven-year-old sitting next to a still-disgruntled Reita.

Ruki faltered, “W-Well… maybe we can rent a guitarist or something or..  Or Aoi-san can teach him!  Kids are sponges at this age, right?”

He knew he was being slightly irrational, but the vocalist couldn’t just sit idle and disappoint the fans.  If the gaudy, flamboyant apartment he woke up in was anything to go by, the band obviously gained popularity and to let down eager supporters of their music made his heart shrivel and sink. 

Kai smiled wanly, “You know that wouldn’t work.  And besides, you need to learn about us first.  We’re a little different now.”

Shoulders slumping in defeat, Ruki snuck a quick glance at Aoi and found himself silently agreeing almost instantly.

Another lull of silence pervaded the crowded living room, the oddly assorted occupants fidgeting here and there as the situation seemed to be getting bleaker by the minute.  Reita, arms crossed and frown marring his usually jovial face, asked softly, “What do we tell management?  The fans?” 

Kai let out a long breath, eyes shutting and hands automatically going up to massage his temples.  The throbbing roar in the back of his head was getting quite vicious.  “We’ll think of something.  If we’re lucky, the schedule will only be set back a few weeks,”  Kai opened his eyes to glance at Ruki and Kouyou, “Then again, our friends’ health and wellbeing comes first anyways.  Always.”

Murmurs of agreement and nods of approval went around the semi-circle. 

Aoi twiddled and fussed with the silver rings adorning his right hand, a nervous tic, Ruki noted with interest, that had stayed with the guitarist throughout the years.  Even if the elder had a cocky tilt to the lips and a mischievous gleam in his eye backstage at a live, once his fingers started to fuddle with the jewelry, the illusion of perfect aplomb was shattered.  Now, in the midst of a crisis hailing from the likes of a romantic-comedy blockbuster, Aoi twisted and pulled at those rings roughly.  Ruki almost swiftly reached out to put a hand atop the raven-haired man’s.  But he hesitated, hovered in indecision for too long.

“Aoi, you’re yanking on your fingers again.”

The rhythm guitarist immediately tore his fingers away from the abused rings, cheeks a faint pink.  Jostling his knee slightly with nerves, he said, “I can’t help but to think that maybe we should all stay close.  Just in case this keeps happening.”

Reita blanched while Kai nodded, “That’s a good plan.”

Kouyou, who had been playing with the fibers of the carpet, shot his head up with excited eyes and turned to the bassist, “Are we having a sleepover at Kai-san’s house?”

When Reita didn’t respond fast enough, Kouyou scooted closer to him and whispered persuasively, “I like Kai-san.  He makes good waffles.”

“Are we just basing this off of culinary skill?  Because I only have one guestroom.”

Having already given into the child’s pleading eyes, Reita shrugged, “We’ll draw straws.  Me and Kouyou against Aoi and Ruki.  Shortest gets the couch.” 

It took all of his self-control not to mutter in an aside:  “So, I guess Ruki gets it automatically.”

Aoi, a bit proud of his suggestion to stay close, suddenly began to pale, “W-Wait, me and Ruki?”

Reita gave him a deadpanned look while Kai prepared the straws, “Nothing against you man, but sleeping close to Uruha is already bordering pedophilic.  And now you’re telling me you want to sleep next to a seven-year-old?”

Well, that proposal totally went up in flames.  “No!  No, just…why can’t me and Kai share a room?”

Reita raised a brow and jutted his chin towards the smaller vocalist who was still curled up in his corner of the couch (and not missing the millisecond of hurt that crossed his eyes at Aoi’s avoidance), “And just leave Ruki, who doesn’t even know what twitter is, all by himself?  Jeez.”

Aoi blamed his sputtering on the lack of sufficient coffee (Kai’s Italia Roast brand was certainly not strong enough to jumpstart his common sense) and quickly tried to make amends, realizing his fate had been sealed the moment he answered his cell phone, “No, I…  I’ll stay with him.”

Reita looked remotely satisfied and Kai held out a bundle of straws to them, “Alright guys, take your pick.” 

The bassist drew first, drawing a moderately sized straw.  Aoi swallowed thickly, praying to any remaining god up there that he’d draw the guestroom.  At least with a room he and Ruki could be somewhat separated.  And therefore, somewhat not touching each other.  And Aoi somewhat not humiliating himself.

He drew his straw.

And the gods deemed him worthy.

“Guess this means we’re blowing up the air mattress, Kouyou,” Reita winced for his back’s future while Kouyou smiled at the idea of a mattress made out of air. 

“Will it be like clouds?” 

Aoi almost wept at his luck.  Kai clapped him on the back with a grin, “Looks like you two will be getting “reacquainted” tonight.”

Still reveling in his glory, Aoi turned a smile the drummer’s way, not fully comprehending his words, “What’s that?”

But Kai was already walking away towards the room, “Just make sure you only bring essential items in there.  Once that beast is pulled out, it literally takes up all the space in the room.”

His blood pressure was getting a real workout today.  Aoi started to walk briskly after Kai, barely noticing that Ruki decided to follow behind him as well, “Because… there’s two futons in there, right?”

Aoi reached the guestroom and stopped abruptly at the doorway.  The room was bare. 

Except for the lone pull-out futon.

Ruki snorted beside him, crossing his arms, “Hope you don’t bruise too easily, Aoi-san.  I don’t know if you remember, but I kick in my sleep.”

If Aoi didn’t know Kai any better, he’d say the drummer had looked about ready to cackle.

 

&.&.&

 

A/N:  Whew.  This took longer than expected.  Sorry for the wait, but college is pretty much a time-whore. 

I feel like this chapter is transitional – filling in some plot holes and introducing problem A to problem B while there’s more light shed on Ruki’s younger self’s feelings for Aoi.  Not totally happy with it since I was at the point where I just wanted this chapter done.  So, if it feels rushed towards the end… that’s because it is, haha.  I’m looking forward to the next part though.  It will probably take some time though because I do have a lot of commitments right now and I don’t want to give this plot half-assed time.  I want to really sit down when I have the chance to give it the attention it deserves.  It’ll definitely get updated, just not weekly.

I love writing frazzled-Aoi.  I don’t really know why :P

Next chapter:  the “sleepover”, more attention on Reita & Kouyou and some insights to Ruki/Aoi’s emotions.