Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Saki falls ill on Christmas Eve, Tsukasa stands outside her hospital rooms door and listens to her weep.

He's eight years old. 

Wet clings to the nape of his neck, a melted but lingering cold frost from the snowfall that dusts every car and sidewalk in a blanket of white.

On the drive over, the clouds of winter had blocked the galaxy entirely in the wake of the dark night. Though Saki, who'd been curled, shaking, feverish and face-down in his lap during the trip, hadn't been able to muster the strength to lift her head and try to see the missing stars. 

It's frustrating. 

It's terrifying. 

An hour ago they had been giggling in Saki's room, wrapping gifts for their parents to surprise them in the morning.

"Alright, Kobayashi. This hero's seen enough!"

"Eh?! Tenma-san?"

Tsukasa's class representative jumps as Tsukasa comes into the classroom lightly, with a smile, shaking his head.

It's the last day of school before winter's week and half break; the afternoon classes have come to an end, and white clouds roam across brisk and blue skies beyond the window.

The class had emptied out thirty minutes ago save for those on cleaning duty, and although Tsukasa wasn't on the schedule, he had stayed behind to help organize desks against the walls, sweep, wipe down boards and empty the trash.

He had just come back from the storage closet on the fourth floor of the building, where most of their club activities and extracurricular classes took place in the regular season, and had found Kobayashi by herself, trying to carry three boxes of cleaning and school supplies while eyeballing a fourth on the ground.

There had been a hilariously fascinating attempt on her end to pick the fourth up with the toe of her shoe before Tsukasa had chosen to enter upon the scene, startling her enough into setting the other boxes down. 

The heater of the room runs warm.

The sleeves of their uniforms and sweaters have been pushed back to the elbow and they mimic one another in stance, hands put on their hips as they face off. 

"I thought I sent you home," she scolds. "Why are you still here?"

"Heh," his lips crookedly, playfully smirk. "I throw the question right back at you, comrade. You've stayed longer than you should. Is it not the holiday season? Surely your friends and family await your timely arrival at home." 

She squints.

"That's what I'm saying about you. I've got this, Tenma-san. I can close the room on my own." 

"I know that," Tsukasa answers, "but don't you have to turn in the list of inventory to the office and fill out the request forms for the new year's supplies?"

"W-Well - " 

"You'd be here even longer. Let me take care of the boxes while you handle that instead."

Her mouth bends; her face scrunches and she gazes at him, lips pursed, eyebrows bunched in conflict for several seconds.

"Hnngrh...."

Tsukasa patiently waits.

He can't really see her saying no to that kind of logic, so - 

A light rapping of knuckles comes at the door behind him.

Kobayashi looks past him.

He turns halfway around.

Rui pokes his head into the classroom, smile curling his lips, amusement in his voice and eyes.

"Sorry for the intrusion." 

"Oh, Rui!"

Tsukasa smiles. This could work too.

"I didn't know you were still here. Are you doing anything?" 

"Not in particular."

"Great!"

Tsukasa turns back and gestures for the boxes on the desks and floor, grabbing two for himself.

"Help me out?" 

"Sure," Rui chuckles, easily coming in with a greeting towards Kobayashi and playful inquiry. "The supply closet, yes?"

"I -"

Kobayashi glances between them, before she deflates and her shoulders hang, defeated.

"...Yes."

Tsukasa grins, victorious, shifting the weight in his arms.

Rui grins back at him.

They head off, a cheery duo, for the door. 

She calls out as Tsukasa sets one foot into the hall, Rui at his heels. 

"Tenma-san, this is all alright? Go home after. I mean it!" 

"I will," he calls back. 

"I don't believe you!"

"Not to worry, Kobayashi-san, I'll ensure he does," Rui muses, nudging the back of Tsukasa's ankle in the doorway a bout of affection despite knowing how annoying Tsukasa finds it.

Or maybe that's exactly why he does it.

Tsukasa makes a face at him over his shoulder.

Rui's smirk dares him to make a fuss.

Because Tsukasa doesn't fall for traps anymore (especially after realizing Rui's main source of humor from them came in watching Tsukasa's reactions like Tsukasa was some science experiment - ) he doesn't kick back or complain or scowl.

He simply takes the high road, straightens up, and traverses into the hall, shoulders and chin raised.

"Have a great holiday, Kobayashi!" he hollers behind him. 

"Thanks! You too!" she hollers back. 

Rui sidles up beside him on his right as they walk the wide, empty hall.

Snow spins before the bright, beryl sky and the wall of windows they travel alongside.

The stairwell leading up to the fourth floor rests at the end of the corridor. Rui makes light conversation as they go towards it.

"Kobayashi-san is hard-working as always."

"She doesn't know when to give it up sometimes," Tsukasa disapproves, shifting the weight of boxes in his arms. "She'd stay until the teachers left all their meetings if she could."

He glances up at his taller friend.

"And? What were you working on?"

Rui's eyebrows raise high on his brow.

"What makes you think I was working on anything?"

"You're not seriously asking me that, are you?" Tsukasa questions flatly.

Rui laughs, the sound mirthful and delighted between them in the small space they share.

"Alright, alright. You've caught me. I found some surprisingly high-quality pieces of scrap metal while poking around the trash by the outdoor workshop's junkyard. There wasn't much going on in class but note-taking, so I spent the time building a little friend."

"Rui, you should seriously start taking notes."

"I've left our new friend to roam outdoors. He should greet us when we leave unless he's run off."

"You ignored me on purpose, didn't you?"

"Hm? Did Tsukasa-kun say something?"

"I'm never letting you borrow my notes again."

"So if I fail you'll take responsibility?" 

"Take responsibility yourself."

"I will if you tutor me."

"You should be the one tutoring me." 

"I charge a flat rate of eighty an hour plus interest." 

"Then forget it. I'll take a zero." 

They climb the stairs together in a good mood.

They head for the storage closet right away afterwards, its door still propped open from when Tsukasa had been in it stowing a broom and mop before. 

Inside the cluttered, shadowed room full of a cacophony of brooms, tubs, arts and crafts, reams of paper, and the miscellaneous, are walls of iron shelves stuffed to the brim with spare textbooks from years before that had never been tossed out.

The boxes they carry are neatly added to the chaos.

Rui spends a moment, then, going through some of the textbooks before taking one of complex mathematics and flipping through it with interest.

In the gray-cast of the closet, Tsukasa stands next to him - and watches.

"This could be intriguing," Rui is chuckling, low, golden eyes alight as they zoom down a page of numerical equations and values Tsukasa in no way understands. "I should implement this right away when I get back home.... Tsukasa-kun, do you have plans for the rest of the evening? How would you like to spend a few hours trying something fun out?"

"There's no context to what you're saying, so no," Tsukasa deadpans.

"The crusher of my dreams," Rui laments, closing the book shut and stowing it back where it belongs.

"I promised Saki I would watch a movie with her," Tsukasa goes on in. "No.... it's... more like three."

"A movie marathon? That's exciting."

"Well, she's going with Ichika and the others to the theaters tomorrow but they're seeing the fourth title in the series at Honami's request. Unfortunately, Saki's never watched the others."

Tsukasa smiles helplessly.

"She's determined to fix that."

He takes a hold of Rui's wrist and starts guiding him out the closet, making sure to the close the door behind them, before making for the white bathroom and its speckled-bland stalls down the hall.

"Tsukasa-kun?"

"I'd lecture you about the dangers of messing around with rusty scrap metal and dangerous material, but you'd keep poking through piles of it anyway. Not that I'm telling you not to. At the very least, just make a better effort to look after yourself."

He pushes Rui lightly towards the sink, and takes a few steps away, eyes going pointedly to the long, red, slice-of-a-cut running along Rui's right forearm.

"Wash it out. I'll be back."

He's partially out the bathroom when he whirls around and hastily adds with great suspicion-

"Don't you dare run off."

Rui opens his mouth to respond, but Tsukasa is already gone.

It's not a long trip to the nurses office, and after making tiny conversation on the holidays whilst trying to convince her he was not gathering medicinal supplies preemptively for some sort of Christmas-themed, confetti-cannon explosion - he returns to where he's left Rui.

Thankfully, Rui's still there.

But there's a peculiar expression on his face as he gazes down at the freshly-washed scrape on his arm - an expression that only curdles more strangely as Tsukasa re-enters the bathroom, moderately winded, hair out-of-place, antiseptic, ointment and gauze in hand.

"You stayed," Tsukasa says, pleased.

"You did ask," Rui responds.

His eyes follow Tsukasa as Tsukasa draws near.

"I didn't know I had injured myself. When did you notice?"

"When you showed up at my classroom."

Tsukasa sets the items on the back of the sink and takes a hold of Rui's arm by the wrist again afterwards, only this time turning slightly back-and-forth to study the harsh line cut into the pale of his friend's skin.

Well, it didn't need stitches, and it was such a thin injury it didn't look like it was suffering terrible inflammation.

He bet there was an infinite amount of infection in it regardless. And knowing Rui, he'd probably got this hours ago - so consumed in his tinkering and devising and machinations.

"...Tsukasa-kun," there's an odd note in Rui's tone, "you really don't have to - "

Tsukasa activates his invisible headphones and cleans the wound.

He cleans it with care and attention-to-detail with kind hands; runs fingers with ointment over the injury; wraps the gauze that covers the expanse of Rui's forearm, before tying it off with a knot and small, satisfied smile.

"There."

Rui had fallen silent in the duration of Tsukasa's light man-handling and concentrated focus, and Tsukasa had figured his friend had merely settled for acceptance in Tsukasa's antics. 

Yet as Tsukasa finally lifts his head and looks up, he's caught off guard seeing Rui gazing right back down at him, expression unreadable, unspoken words on the tip of his tongue.

But Rui doesn't speak them.

After a moment, an incredibly long one, where they look at one another, a questioning, confused air between them both, Tsukasa takes the initiative to break the silence first.

"...Is it okay? How does it feel?" he asks.

Rui gazes down at him for a second longer before removing his arm from Tsukasa's grasp.

Only then had Tsukasa realized he'd still been holding onto Rui's wrist.

He tries not to feel embarrassed as his friend takes the time to flex his forearm in testing movements.

"It feels perfectly fine," Rui says after a time.

His eyes shift from his raised arm and fall onto Tsukasa again.

"...You have an excellent hand."

"Of course I do," Tsukasa responds right away, though flustered. "Who do you think you're talking to?"

Rui answers.

Unwaveringly. 

"One of the most interesting individual's I've ever met."

Tsukasa coughs. 

"T- That's expected. I am a star." 

"Mhm." Rui's gaze has gone keenly intrigued and soft, resting on him idly. "Certainly, the brightest and most special."

"Ha! Obviously." 

Tsukasa grabs and fumbles for the remaining supplies on the sink from the nurse.

Someone in the school must have cranked up the heat in the building. The bathroom was three degrees off from a furnace.

"Come on," he says. 

He turns his back on his friend, walking a bit funkily for the bathroom exit.

"These need to be returned to the nurse." 

~x~

Outside can't be reached faster.

Tsukasa barrels open the front door of the school and lets the fresh, frosty wind of the frigid air hit his brow and tousle his hair.

Rui finishes changing into his outdoors shoes, then joins him.

They get down the stone steps, bundled in thick jackets, closely side-by-side.

But it's because Rui's suddenly stopped walking and his foot is on Tsukasa's so Tsukasa can't move.

"Oi, Rui-!"

Tsukasa flails.

Rui glances around the open, snow-swept courtyard in front of them, otherwise preoccupied.

"Hmm... I could've sworn..."

His eyes brighten.

He hurries off in the direction of the courtyard's garden by the wall of the science wing, although the green hedges and their pinks flowers are entirely covered in white.

Tsukasa hops around on his freed foot, brows pinched, looking after him.

"Rui!"

When he's next to his genius friend again -

(after snow had blown into his eyes, temporarily blinding him and causing him to slip on a patch of hardened ice before flying into the bush beside where Rui crouched- and after Rui had pulled Tsukasa out of the bushes brambles)

- he brushes snow off him gruffly and watches as Rui kneels and bends sideways to look under one of the school garden's stone benches.

"Come on Pochi," he cooes. "Come say hello to Tsukasa-kun. It's not good to keep out in such cold weather."

"What the heck are you doing? Who's Pochi?"

"Our new friend," Rui responds, muffled, sticking his head fully under the bench and grabbing a hold of something. "I told you inside, didn't I? He's so curious about the world around him."

And Rui eases back and gets to his knees, then stands, facing Tsukasa with a sparkling gaze and smile.

Tsukasa stares at the thing in his arm.

"It's - "

"-a dog," Rui finishes, tickled.

A tiny robotic one, like a baby pitbull, the glow of its eyes vividly blue and the pieces of metal and scrap of its compact form mismatched in all colors of the gray spectrum.

"I installed a basic AI during last period. So far he can do all the basics of a real canine - aside from give cute kisses."

Tsukasa leans down, awestruck at the creation, and puts a finger on the robot's head, watching as the dog starts wagging its tail.

"You did this in one day? That's amazing. As expected of you, Rui."

"It's nothing so impressive," Rui says, brows creasing, smile humble when Tsukasa spares a glance up.

"I'd say it's ridiculously impressive. Seriously." Tsukasa's eyes go back to the dog. "...'Pochi', you said? Does he have facial recognition like Nene-Robo?"

"No. I'll add that when I get home, along with a few other features."

"What do you plan on doing with him? Will he join our shows?"

"If that's what Tsukasa-kun wants."

"Well, it's not about what I want, it's more what you want to - "

Tsukasa stops talking as his eyes come back up.

Rui looks - well, Tsukasa's not sure what kind of look Rui's wearing on his face - but it seems like there's something about to come spilling out of him - a bursting thought.

Or maybe it's a sneeze.

"Er - ...Rui?"

Falling snow drifts onto his taller friend's lashes.

Tsukasa watches the way they glimmer and melt.

"Tsukasa-kun," Rui murmurs a minute later - that very odd, absent expression still on his face; bleeding into his tone. "Mind if I say something?"

"Hm? What? Sure, go ahead."

Rui's arms squeeze the robotic dog in the crook of his arms. His cheeks are faintly colored.

Tsukasa assumes it's from the winter's cold.

He frowns to himself.

They should probably start heading home.

Rui speaks.

"I'm - "

Tsukasa's phone rings.

They both startle and jump.

Tsukasa's hands feel for his phone. He catches sight of the name on screen quickly before apologetically mouthing a 'sorry' and hastily picking up.

"Saki?" he asks, turning slightly from Rui. "Is everything alright?"

"Everything's fine, onii-chan! I just wanted to ask if you could stop by the convenience store on the way back and grab some snacks."

Oh right.

With the holidays, there would be limited flavors of snacks on sale at the store down their street.

Several were Saki's favorites.

"Yeah, of course, I'll grab them! Anything else?" 

"No, that was it. Unless you want juice? But hurry back soon. It's three movies, remember, and they're all more than two hours. We'll be up too late otherwise." 

"And you'd fall asleep." 

"I wouldn't!" Saki protests. "Or- at least, not this time."

It sounds like she's pouting as she mumbles. 

"I want to know as much about the storyline as I can so I can enjoy the movie properly with Honami and the others tomorrow so no matter what I'm staying awake. Don't think I won't."

"Okay, I believe you," Tsukasa smiles, laughing quietly. "I'll be there within the hour."

"You better!" she chides.

But it's said with nothing but fun.

Tsukasa lowers his phone as the call cuts and turns a little back towards Rui, already prepared to run off.

"I have to go make some errands before I forget. I'm really sorry! Text me later what you wanted to say?"

There's no upset on Rui's expression, only a smile of soft regret for a conversation cut short.

"Of course, Tsukasa-kun. Get home safely."

Tsukasa goes, smiling bright with a wave. 

He stops, however, at the gates of the school and looks behind him once.

Rui's taking a seat on the bench he'd found his self-made robotic dog under, letting him jump from his arms back into the snow to roll around, kick up frost and sprint around. 

And Tsukasa hesitates. 

For someone joined by the company of a creation so lifelike and excitable like 'Pochi' - Rui looks so uncannily alone.

Tsukasa's footsteps falter more.

He thinks of going back.

'Rui, do you want to come over and watch the movies with me and Saki. I'm sure she won't mind!' 

Ultimately. He doesn't.

He doesn't know why. 

He arrives home within the hour as promised, snacks in hand, scuffing off snow from his shoes and calling out for his little sister - wondering, all the while - if Rui had ever made it back safe and warm to his own.

Hours and hours later, as night sinks deep and inky and calm outside on the streets - as Saki dozes in his lap - as the third movie's villain finally makes an appearance:

Tsukasa's phone on the low living room table vibrates.

He watches the villain monologue with questionable acting for a minute before reaching over Saki and stretching with some effort to snag his device.

A picture from Rui.

Some sort of pillowy, marshmallow bunny.

| Remember the floating bubbles we made? We can do the same with this.

| For a show?

|For a show. A later one. Alice in Wonderland.

|You've planned that far ahead? Let me hear it

|It won't interrupt you?

|Saki fell asleep. I have time.

|Then go to sleep too, Tsukasa-kun. I'll come over another day during the break and share. 

Tsukasa's features twist.

|No fair! You've said it so now I'm going to be thinking about it.

|Such a shame!

They wind up texting about 'Pochi'.

Rui answers all of Tsukasa's questions on how the robotic works, and the new features installed, but he never directly answers Tsukasa's inquiries on why the dog had been made in the first place or what for.

It's really only when Tsukasa's nodding off to sleep himself, slumped and tucked in the corner of the couch with numb legs and a cramp from Saki's weight as the villain dies off-screen - that Tsukasa suddenly remembers.

He sluggishly types a question and sends it off to Rui, in the remnants of their conversation that had casually petered off to here-and-there messages as the night dragged on.

|By the way, what were you going to say earlier? 

The message is never answered.

It's not taken personally.

Tsukasa assumes Rui's fallen asleep.

Eyes heavy, he soon does the same.

The next time his eyes crack open, the TV screen's been shut off, a pillow tucked beneath his head; an extra blanket draped over his body.

The house is filled with silence.

Saki is nowhere in sight.

For a moment, in the groggy daze of sleep, Tsukasa lurches upwards in a panic, hand searching, thinking of sirens and sicknesses and a sister gone.  

It's the thud of his fallen phone hitting the floor that breaks him out of it. 

The time and date shine upwards on the lit screen.

Saturday.

Nearly two in the morning.

Tsukasa gazes at the number for an eternity. 

His heart beats erratically until he wills it to calm.

Until he wills himself to recognize the time and year and day; the memory of a sister recovered; of one who happily runs around with her friends, playing wholeheartedly in a band, enthusiastic and well.

And he remembers that their mother and father are home; will still be home for the holidays - they're just up in their bedroom, resting - where Saki no doubt has also gone to properly sleep in her own. 

He casts aside the blanket and swings shaking legs and feet onto the floor until their trembling stops. 

He wipes the sweat from his brow; scrubs his face of sleep and unpleasantness, bothered by himself, before getting up.

He cleans the living room area. 

He stows the snacks. 

He realigns the cushions on the couch. 

He heads for his bedroom, mind muddled, bones aching in tiny exhaustion from a disturbed rest. 

But not before stopping outside of his sister's bedroom, cracking open the door, and worriedly peeking in.

She's there.

Flopped on her stomach, sheets tangled, drooling halfway off the bed.

He goes in, socks quiet on the floor, and carefully tucks her in, already knowing she'd end up on the floor in some sort of cocoon come morning anyways.

In her arms, he sets a stuffed bear passed on from Touya. 

He shoulders slump, small. 

...All this time, and he still can't quite shake off that innate feeling of uncertainty when there was no one else around.

He leaves with troubled feelings; weighted thoughts in mind.

When he finally falls into his own bed, face in his pillow, curling on his side, he wants nothing more to leave those troubles behind and fall into a deep sleep where he can dream of fantastical adventures, full stages and have peace from them instead.

Phone in hand, fingers loose; he's three seconds from dropping it to the sheets and sinking into slumber - when a new notification pings. 

|It wasn't much, Tsukasa-kun.

Just a thank you for your care. 

Sweet dreams?

Oh. 

Tsukasa's eyes linger on the words, processing them without processing them, feeling an importance in them.

His thumbs type back. 

|No problem. I'll help you whenever.

Sweeter dreams to you, Rui.

Night

It sends. 

He somehow feels much better.

Sleep steals him away after, and holds him, gently, deep under its rolling waters.  

Chapter Text

Tsukasa cracks a yawn, corner of his eyes dampening, culled by frost and whistling wind as he treks into the shopping district with hands shoved in the depths of his winter parka, feet freezing even stuffed in three layers of socks and boots.

Saki's earmuffs are pink and white fluffy things, with the stitched face of a rabbit on either side, coupled with a beanie - and she had refused to let him leave the house without them on.

"You'll get sick otherwise, onii-chan! So wear them," she had told him, as she had prepared for her own day out.

They muddle the sound of outdoor music, chatter, laughter and the bustle of foot traffic in the busy center he's wandered into.

He'd be caught off guard by the amount of people hurrying around on their own and with friends at only nine in the morning, but more than likely, they were coming to get all the holiday merchandise and their deals in a bout of last minute shopping before everything could be wiped off the shelves.

Like him.

But he didn't mind. His parents wouldn't be home until Monday.

That gave him Saturday and Sunday to carry gifts into their house without needing to worry about being caught. 

And Saki plans on spending the night at Honami's with Ichika and Shiho after their lunch and movie today, so it works out in my favor as well. 

He smiles to himself, small. He'd slept soundly and had a good dream (though he wasn't sure of what - perhaps a grand show), as he'd woken with a laugh bubbling out of him into his pillow, mind muddled and clouded and a bit distant - but content. 

Or maybe it was the realization in waking to the first day of winter break, that the holidays were truly upon them, and it would be the first Christmas everyone in the family would be safe and sound at home, in good health. 

If he could then make this a memorable holiday for all of them - for Saki -

He rounds the corner of a brightly-lit two-story clothing strung with gold lights and collides into someone else.

"Whoa!"

A face-full of boxes and bags.

He skids backwards and nearly slips.

A firm hand snatches a hold of his arm and steadies him.

By the time Tsukasa rights himself and regains his bearings, there are already two familiar faces looking at him from behind a mountain of both festively-colored and sleek-wrapped presents shared between their arms.

Name-brand stores. Most expensive, fashion ones.

"Tsukasa-senpai?" Mizuki says, blinking in surprise. "Sorry! Didn't see you there."

Their hair, curled softly, is pulled off to the side with a gold ribbon.

It looks new. Gifted.

They're bundled warmly too. About as warmly as Akito dressed in darker colors beside them - who is still very much seizing a hold of Tsukasa's arm.

Akito lets go of him soon after, however, leaving Tsukasa to properly straighten up and greet them, bewildered as he is by the unexpected encounter. 

"Akiyama! Akito! What are you doing here?"

"Shopping, of course!" Mizuki answers with pride. "You're by yourself?"

"Yeah. My sister will be with her friends today so I thought I'd come out and take care of some gift-buying on my own," Tsukasa shares.

Mizuki hums. Their expression turns curious. "You look a little different today, senpai. Did you maybe hear something nice yesterday?"

"Something nice?" Tsukasa blinks. "Should I have?" 

Mizuki sighs, but it's a sigh of exasperation and fondness and teasing all in one. "Aaaah. Never mind. Looks like that friend couldn't muster up the words just yet. All in due time?"

"What do you mean?"

Mizuki doesn't answer, eyes shifting mischievously in Akito's direction instead. "Anyhowww, we were busy ourselves getting a gift or two for our precious, loved ones, so don't mind us if we take our leave now. We've got a full day ahead of us."

"We better not," Akito gripes, speaking for the first time. "A gift or two for 'loved ones'? Isn't it just a bunch of clothes for yourself?"

Mizuki shakes their head patronizingly; accusatory.

"I'm more considerate than that, y'know. Some are for Ena and the others of our group. Let's not act like you didn't spend an hour looking at the same two jackets for Touya-kun. I bet his closets full of them by now. You should just buy him a dresser, wrap it in a bow and call it a day."

Akito brings his eyes to the high, clouded heavens of the pale, blue morning.

"Whatever. We've been walking around since the crack of dawn with no chance to sit. I'm beat, and between the two of us, there aren't enough arms to carry anything else."

"Hmph." Mizuki harrumphs, but their eyes shine with tease. "You chose to tag along, otouto-kun~ You don't get to complain."

Akito's eyes drop, features twisting in disgruntlement.

"I didn't choose to do anything. You came throwing rocks at my window before the sun rose and wouldn't leave until I joined you."

"Right," Mizuki agrees. "Therefore we can all agree you chose to come on your own."

Akito looks at Mizuki with an expression so suffering, yet so incredibly resigned.

"Who's we?"

Tsukasa laughs under his breath.

The two were as unexpectedly close as always; two unusual peas in a pod with incredibly giving hearts.

He speaks with cheer, breath curling in a pale fog.

"Well, I see you guys have a fun day planned. Don't let me keep you; just make sure to have a great holiday! Alright?"

"You got it!" Mizuki cheers, hefting the boxes in their arms up higher. "That goes double for you, Tsukasa-senpai. Ah- And if ever you see Rui in the days ahead, tell him he owes me."

"Rui?" Tsukasa echoes.

Mizuki chortles, shifting the bags on their arms next before beginning to shuffle on by. 

Akito follows after them, a trudge of reluctance in his steps.

He stops, though, and takes a moment to turn back around right as Tsukasa also turns to try and question Mizuki further. 

"Senpai," Akito begins, gazing at him with furrowed brows. "Not that it's important or anything, but say you were getting something for Touya in the spirit of Christmas. What would it be?"

Mizuki's strange mention of Rui disappears from the forefront of Tsukasa's mind, replaced by immediate bright joy at the mention of the kouhai he loves.

"For Touya? Nothing, really. I usually spend a day with him after his own holiday celebrated at home and we'll do something we both like."

Akito's brows furrow deeper. "Huh? You don't gift him anything? Odd. I thought someone like you would've. In returned-appreciation. He gives you stuff all the time."

"You mean the plushies and toys from the arcade?" Tsukasa tilts his head in question.

Akito's expression doesn't change.

If anything, it grows slowly more vexed.

Marginally insulted.

On Touya's behalf.

Tsukasa can't help the tugging lift of his mouth at the sight of it.

He brings a hand to his chin, thoughtfully, and regards Touya's partner with warmth bubbling in his chest and voice.

"Saki and I keep those stuffed animals for him since his father's not a fan of them, as I'm sure you know. But more than that..."

His smile grows.

"...Akito. Haven't you noticed?"

Akito's eyes narrow. 

"...Noticed what?"

So he hadn't.

Oh well.

Tsukasa drops his hand and offers his underclassman a thumbs-up.

"Don't think too hard on it. Your existence is the greatest gift one could have."

Akito stares.

"Senpai. That didn't help at all."

Tsukasa chuckles and spins magnificently with fanfare and flair into a stage-worthy pose.

"Ha- HA HA HA! Look not to me for answers, but deep within your own heart! All will be made clear to you after. Then! Side-by-side with Touya, you may venture into the backstreet alleys of the world! Unstoppable! Together!"

Akito recoils with so much force he goes stepping back several feet.

"Not that backstreet alley nonsense again - The hell are you saying?"

Tsukasa's brows raise. "Hmph. Is it not obvious?"

"The only thing that's obvious is that you're a clown," Akito states.

"You didn't even try to sugarcoat that!" Tsukasa exclaims.

Mizuki, on the other hand, bursts into cackles so loud and hard behind Akito, it sounds like they've broken three ribs.

"You heard 'im, otouto-kun. It's time to crack open that stubborn heart of yours and admit a thing or two!"

Akito scowls, whipping his head around.

"What thing or two? Don't get any strange ideas from this guy."

"Hey! This guy is your senpai!" Tsukasa cries.

"Yeah." Akito says. "You are."

The 'unfortunately' is unspoken but loud. 

Because it's the holiday season, and early in the morning, and Akito appears to be going through an internal struggle or three, Tsukasa lets him off.

Not that he would've done anything, anyway. 

He leaves the duo a few minutes later with well wishes after showcasing a few more poses he deemed 'senpai-worthy', waving farewell to his underclassman (one looking on the verge of nausea; the only wiping tears from their eyes), a satisfied lift to his lips. 

It's good to know Touya has such good company around him. 

As expected of someone whose heart is just as pure.

He wanders about the shopping district for a good fifteen minutes until several shops start catching his eye along a winding cobblestone sidewalk off ahead to the right.

The snow is scuffed off his boots on their welcome mats.

He heads in to each store, one-by-one. 

He'd come with limited funds from the seasonal gigs he had worked in the fall and leading up to the winter season, and left the rest in his savings safe back home.

After all, past experience had shown that too much money in his pockets led to his constant over-spending on presents or food for those around him.

Time to be smart this year. 

He had a set plan on what to buy his mother and father and Saki.

Two days after Christmas was when he would normally spent the day with Touya.

But this year, there were so many others to think about aside from his family.

He could take some extra time and gift Akiyama and Akito in their return to Kamiyama High after break.

Ichika and Honami and Shiho, he could invite them over and throw a thank-you party for their continual support and care and love towards his Saki.

Shiho would probably like something with Phenny; something she could carry on the case of her instrument, Tsukasa muses silently, bending over, studying a glass shelf of expensive hand creams in a body shop.

Ichika would likely be interested in the new Miku releases at the music store. A gift card should be fine. Honami... 

Tsukasa grabs a nicely-packaged set of neutral-smelling lotion, then goes off in search of bath salts. 

Well.

Tsukasa could either attempt to bake a pie during the party at their house and risk burning down their neighborhood, or give her a gift card too for the shop she always bought her pastries at. 

A gift card, he thinks. A gift card is definitely safer. 

He really should've taken up that offer from his father to join weekend cooking classes for 'parent-and-child' when he was younger.

He's leaving the store, small bag hooked over a wrist, thoughts absent on what to do for KAITO and Miku, and of course his troupe - when his name is warmly called out.

He looks to his right, where the street opens into a vast, outdoor plaza full of cafes, clothing stores and foreign merchandise.

His eyes light up.

"Oh! Shizuku!" 

Bundled blue sweeps towards him gracefully and all but snatches up his hands.

His hands are given a loving squeeze.

Shizuku, kind as always, smiles, looking down the small distance at him, cheeks flushed and bitten pink by the cold.

"Tsukasa-kun, it's wonderful to see you! What a coincidence. I thought it was you I spotted stepping out onto the street."

"Yeah!" he smiles back up at her.

Coincidence indeed.

What were the odds of running into so many people he knew?

But he's glad for it.

He can't keep the elation out of his voice.

This is his childhood friend.

Shizuku - who he burnt popcorn with; who showed him a needle and thread; who he admired, growing up, for having such a great heart and for being such a great 'big sibling'.

Up until high school, they had spent a lot of time together.

When they were in middle school and Shizuku had begun getting scouted, Tsukasa remembered walking home from extra classes on the weekend and huddling in the back of fast food places in twin hat-and-sunglass disguises so as to not be recognized. 

Though - thinking back - those disguises probably drew the most attention their way. 

No matter. 

"I feel like we're both so busy nowadays, I never get the chance to talk to you," he says. "Have you been well? Were you shopping?"

"I've been great! Thank you for asking," Shizuka lowers their hands but keeps a hold of them. "Yes, I was shopping. Shiho-chan will be out with her friends today so it's the perfect chance to buy her a gift and hide it before she returns home."

"That's right! She's hanging out with Saki and the others for the movies and a day out." He laughs. "I'm sure that means they'll also be buying gifts and trying to hide them afterwards."

"I'm sure they will," Shizuka agrees, soft color on her cheek flushing further, happily, at the thought. She lets go of Tsukasa's hand - only one - and continues to hold the other.

Then she starts walking down the street in the direction she had just come and the direction Tsukasa had yet to explore.

He lets her, following in her steps; the sound of snow crunching beneath their boots lightly.

A brisk wind blows chimes and hanging wishes of paper fortunes on the window-stores they pass by.

They talk.

About their past week.

About the week before that.

About missed live-streams and performances, growths in their hobbies, school and plans for the new year.

And they walk, and keep walking, hand-in-hand, into different shops, indoors and outdoors, up escalators, down stairs, separating only to pick and sort through merchandise and suggest it to one another for their family and friends, before rejoining hands again.

It's a familiar, safe comfort from childhood, of someone else - for once- besides Tsukasa leading the way.

"Once Minori-chan reaches the top, I wonder what we'll do." 

"Do you not want to keep singing?"

"I'll always want to sing. But..."

Shizuku trails off.

Tsukasa squeezes her hand.

She squeezes back.

It soon nears noon.

The morning gives way to a clear yet brittle sky of white clouds and golden sun.

They grab lunch and tea at a sandwich shop and take their drinks on the go, no longer hand-in-hand, but relaxed at one another's sides.

Their arms are otherwise laden with bags.

Tsukasa had accomplished his goal of buying gifts for his family and Saki's friends.

All that was left were gifts for his own friends.

In the middle of his satisfied thoughts, Shizuku mentions a store she wants to peek her head into for Shiho.

The next thirty minutes are spent circling the same square. 

Some things really never change.

Tsukasa smiles fondly, brows furrowing helplessly, in her direction.

There was no need to make her feel bad over time well-spent in each other's company, and he had no other plans for the day, but really, the specific store she was looking for with its merchandise was a thirty-minute train ride across the city, more in the direction of the central mall. 

He supposed she had only overhead the name, maybe from Shiho herself, and had never gotten the proper address.

Or maybe she had gotten the right address, but had gotten on the wrong train - or - missed the right stop entirely. 

"Shizuku," he says another twenty minutes later before Shizuku can take them on another loop. "Should we stop for a moment?" 

Their footsteps ease to a halt by an outdoor three-tiered fountain.

It's frozen over in the thinnest layer of ice.

Tossed-in coins can be seen at the bottom of its lowest level.

"Tsukasa-kun, are you tired? Should we find someplace else to sit down?" Shizuku wonders, looking over him carefully. 

"Oh, no I'm fine."

He holds his tea in one hand and pulls out his phone from his pocket with his other, taking the time to type in a store name.

He shows her his screen a second later.

"But is this what you're looking for?"

"Why, yes!" Shizuku's eyes light up, enthused. "We haven't seen any place like that around here, though, have we?" 

He shakes his head, smiling still. "We wouldn't have. We're at the wrong place. We should actually take a train." 

"What?" She looks at him alarmed. "Have we been walking in the wrong direction this whole time? Why didn't you say something?"

Her face falls, apologetic.

"And we made so many detours along the way. I must've wasted a great deal of your time." 

"No time was wasted at all," Tsukasa assures her, soundly. "I was able to buy much of what I needed. Besides, there was no harm. I enjoy your company. I can go with you to this store too."

"Tsukasa-kun, I truly do owe you!" Shizuku lightly exclaims.

However - she pauses - and runs her gaze over him once more, the tiniest of frowns coming to her.

Tsukasa doesn't know what to make of it.

"What is it?" he asks.

She hums beneath her breath, concerned. "You're dressed so thickly, but you look quite red with cold." 

Did he? 

He felt fine. 

Warmer than usual, actually.

He says as much aloud.

For some reason, it only makes Shizuku frown more. Her arm rises, bags on it sliding down.

She rests the back of her hand against his forehead.

"You are warm." 

"We've been walking around for a while," Tsukasa says, not really sure why she suddenly looks as if he's grievously ill. "Isn't it normal to get a little heated from some activity?"

"Yes." She hesitates. "But still.... perhaps - "

His phone vibrates. 

Her hand lowers.

He looks at the name on screen, lifts his brows, and answers the call. 

"Nene?"

"Finally. I've been trying to reach you for ages. What's that noise? Are you out somewhere?" 

"Shopping with a friend. Did something happen?" 

"Emu sent a message in the chat. Her brothers wanted to meet with us to talk. I'm not sure of the details. But. Can you make it?" 

"Where are we meeting? What time?"

"Wonder Stage. In an hour." 

He blanches.

That's supremely last minute.

It would already take an hour to make a trip home and drop off his bags and get to the park, but if he was going with Shizuku first, that would make it two.

"We can't push it?" he questions. "Maybe closer to four?" 

"I don't think so. It sounded like her brothers were heading elsewhere immediately after. Rui was hoping while we were there, we could also properly pack and clean the stage before the holiday's long break and brainstorm in the storehouse afterwards an idea or two for shows to open up the new year." 

He falters. 

He had forgotten about the stage.

If Emu's brothers wanted to see them on such short notice, it must've been important - and related to their position as ambassadors.

The floor of the storehouse set aside for their props and robotics was cold and lacking in light, but it was temperature-regulated, and one of the better places to quickly discuss show ideas rather than sit on the snow-covered benches of their Wonder Stage.

And it made sense to handle stage and brainstorming there, instead of elsewhere, since they'd already be at the park to meet with Shousuke and Keisuke, but - 

"If you can't make it, it's fine. Don't hurt your head over it. I'll tell them you're busy and later we'll fill you in." 

Except if it was show-related, Tsukasa wanted to know. 

Everything he could. 

"I'll be there. Not on time. But I won't miss it." 

"Tsukasa - " 

"Later, Nene! See you soon!" 

He hangs up. He smiles at Shizuku brightly. "Sorry about that!"

"It's no problem," she frets. "But if you need to be somewhere, Tsukasa-kun, please do go. If I have the address of the store, I'm sure I can make it on my own." 

"No worries!" He stows his phone and hooks his arm through hers. "I said I'd take you, and I always keep my word. So! Shall we go?" 

He's not exactly dying as he skids to a halt at the end of the path leading to their Wonder Stage arena - but he's somewhat dying.

He keels over, hands on his knees, gasping for air.

Cold freezes his tongue and crawls down the back of his throat.

His lungs are on fire.

His skin burns numb.

Or maybe he's just so warm he's gone a little numb.

Either way - 

"I've made it," he wheezes, darkly. "Somehow..." 

Not on time but within an hour and a half.

Running had done wonders. 

He straightens up. 

A snowball pegs him in the face. 

He hears Emu's shriek and a babble of apologies, but he can't pinpoint where they're coming from, from where he's been knocked flat on his back. 

He looks at the cloud of rabbit drifting overhead in the blue winter-spun sky. 

"So it's a day like this," he says to no one. 

Air slowly refills his lungs.

His racing heart eases.

The warmth from his run dwindles.

Wet and cold settles in, sinking through clothes, into skin and bone. 

But, surprisingly, a part of him still feels hot.

He doesn't make an effort to move, regardless. 

After ensuring Shizuku had ended up at the right store, and shooing away her worries, her had all but sprinted back to the train station, sprinted from the train, to home, set his bags in his rooms, and thundered back out the door of his house, making a mad dash for the park.

Their early days of putting on five shows every Saturday and Sunday, coupled with Rui's acrobatic stunts, had built his stamina well. 

It didn't make anything easier though. 

Yet soon enough, Emu's standing over him, blocking out the cloud of the rabbit, her eyes huge and full of concern.

"Sorry, Tsukasa-kun! Nene-Robo and I were practicing while we waited. We didn't know you'd show up so suddenly!" 

He sits up, wiping snow off his face and jacket. "What were you practicing?"

"Throwing techniques."

She grabs his hands and with a supreme pull of strength, hauls him to his feet.

She finishes brushing the snow off him excitedly.

"Nene-chan said Rui-kun updated Nene-Robo's memory bank a few days ago with sports knowledge. Now Nene-Robo knows everything there is to know about baseball and all its pitches!"

"Why would Nene-Robo need to know that?" he deadpans. "Who would Nene-Robo pitch for? For what? It's the middle of winter. What nonexistent team would Nene-Robo be trying out for?"

"It's not for actual baseball," Emu grins. "It's for snowball fights. Since it's winter." 

Tsukasa looks past her, and past all the rows of snow-covered benches before their stage, to where Nene-Robo stands on the far opposite side, staring at them from beside a monumental pile of perfectly-rolled snowballs.

"Oh, Tsukasa says, beginning to nod. "That makes sense - Yeah right! Who are you kidding?! Why would Nene-Robo need any programming for a snowball fight? A throw from her arm is enough to kill someone! That almost took me out! And why is it just you two? Where's everyone else? What happened to the super, big, important meeting we were supposed to be having with your brothers? Do you have any idea how fast I ran to get here?"

"Faster than the speed of light?"

"Way faster!" 

"Eh?! I didn't know that was possible!" Emu's eyes shine, brows lowered, hands clasped before her. "Tsukasa-kun, you're amazing!" 

He hangs his head, defeated.

"Now you're just making fun of me. Forget it," he sulks, muttering. "I'm going home."

"What's with the attitude?" a voice questions behind him. "Are you really in such a poor mood at the start of the holidays?" 

"I don't want to hear that from someone who sounds like they're in a poor mood on a daily basis," Tsukasa answers, turning around as Emu clings to his arm.

He looks down at Nene whose fingers are as ruby red as her nose.

A crown of snow forms on her hair.

Just a jacket over her dress and stockings?

Why was she so under-dressed?

It was freezing out.

"You haven't heard of gloves?"

"You haven't heard of socks?" she replies. 

"I'm wearing socks! Don't just make assumptions!"

He brings a hand to his head, and shakes it.

"Never mind."

He removes his gloves.

He snatches up Nene's smaller, purpling hands, and forcefully puts his gloves on them.

Then he takes off his beanie - and Saki's earmuffs.

He ignores Nene's startled look and the way her mouth is half-open in protest, settling the items on her snug.

"You should take care of yourself better."

And that reminded him.

Tsukasa looks at Emu next.

"Why aren't you wearing a jacket?"

"Hm? I am." Emu answers, still holding onto his arm for fun.

For spring.

It was a zip-up hoodie over long sleeves and overalls.

"I was in the car with my brothers on the ride over so I didn't see a need for anything bigger. Running around with Nene-Robo kept me warm!"

"That's so ridiculous."

He eases her off, sighing, and shrugs off his coat.

It's a painful wind that cuts into his skin unprotected by his t-shirt; that bites at his ears and eats at his fingers, but he takes a step back from Emu after swaddling her in his parka and zipping it up, pleased, nonetheless.

He takes a look between her and Nene when all is said and done.

Satisfied. 

But suffering. 

He tries his best not to show it, puffing out his chest in bravado.

"Ha! Behold my benevolence! How is it?" he preens. "Warmer than before for the both of you, yes?"

Nene gazes up at him, clearly caught off guard still if the way she's touching his earmuff on her in bewilderment has anything to say about it.

And she tells him:

"What do you think you're doing? Now you're not wearing anything. Bozo."

He balks.

"What kind of 'thanks' is that? Do you have any idea how cold it is?"

"That's what I'm saying. You're going to get sick."

He turns up his nose. "Ha! That's what you think. But you're forgetting. I'm a star! A bright shining, cosmic entity! The elements have nothing over me!"

"You look like you're about to die." Nene comments, lowering her hands from his given earmuffs. "Didn't you just say it was cold?"

"It was a farce!" 

"Tsukasa-kun."

Emu stares at him and his t-shirt intently.

"What's this panda? Did you stitch it yourself?" 

And here was someone not paying attention to the conversation at all.

But you know -  

"I did," he jabs his thumb at his chest proudly. "It only took a weekend to get it down." 

"It's lopsided," says Nene. "Was that your intention?" 

"You don't know the art of fashion," Tsukasa tells her. "It's crooked on purpose." 

It's not.

He had spent most of that weekend agonizing over how to fix the self-made design without tearing all the threads in the shirt out. 

"Whatever you say," Nene responds. Regardless, it's a smile she hides that he catches sight of anyway. "Well. Thanks for looking out for us, Tsukasa. Still, you should think more carefully about yourself sometimes too." 

Warmth blossoms in his chest.

He settles down.

"Of course. I know that."

He smiles at his friend, sincerely, voice falling into light ease.

"But we can't have our songstress falling ill, now can we? Or the heart of Phoenix Wonderland. What would our Wonder Stage do without you or Emu?"

"Go on - wouldn't it?" Nene's head tilts. "Didn't you once say you'd play both lead roles once? Of a boy and a little girl?"

His expression contorts before untwisting and falling flat. "Why is your memory so selective?" he grumbles. "It's been ages since that show. Erase that from your brain."

Nene has the nerve to feign innocent disappointment. "Oh. That's a shame. I was wondering what your little girl voice sounded like."

"Stop wondering."

"At the Wonder Stage?" Emu gasps. "Tsukasa-kun, that's hearsay!" 

"Why are you two ganging up on me? I hate this. Where's Rui?"

"Oh, but Tsukasa-kun, Emu-kun is right, you know." 

Footsteps crunch up lightly from behind Tsukasa, whimsical voice in tune.

"How could you say such a thing? 'Stop wondering'. What if a child heard?"

"What child would be randomly walking around here alone at a time like this?" Tsukasa responds before turning round about to face the tallest of their troupe. "I take it back. All of you have it out for me. I'm definitely going home."

A thick scarf is draped around his neck.

Multi-colored and hand knit with several big buttons.

Rui's smile is a lilting curve of bemusement.

"My apologies, Tsukasa-kun. Don't get upset. We were initially at the storehouse with Emu-kun's brothers waiting for you, but you weren't reading the texts we sent telling you to come there directly. So Emu-kun thought it might be better to wait for you here instead. Nene and I were at the park's other entrances not too long ago in case you showed up there first but we wound up coming here in the end. Now we've successfully gathered. Isn't that wonderful?" 

It was a lot of things but wonderful seeing what Tsukasa had gone through to get to the park in the first place, but it's somewhat difficult focusing on responding with how distracted he is by Rui's hands tugging him forward by the ends of the scarf as he folds and tucks it more securely around him. 

"Emu-kun's brothers are still back at the storehouse. So if you're ready, shall we go?"

"Okay." Tsukasa stops looking at Rui's hands and looks up at his friend comfortably buttoned in a long, black coat.

There's a turtleneck beneath it. 

It looks cozy.

Actually. 

His eyes roam over Rui's face and hair and person briefly. 

He looks nice. Did he do something different?

He just saw him yesterday though.

How much could've changed?

"...Tsukasa-kun?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Is there something on me?" 

"No."

"I see."

Tsukasa stands there.

Rui stands in front of him. 

Rui reaches out and tucks a loose strand of Tsukasa's hair aside.

"The storehouse," he says. 

"What about it?" Tsukasa says back. 

Rui gazes at him. "We should go." 

He says it but he doesn't move.

So neither does Tsukasa. 

After the longest silence in existence on planet earth - Emu speaks. 

"Did something happen? Why are Tsukasa-kun and Rui-kun just standing there? Aah! Is this another one of your staring contests?" 

Tsukasa almost jumps out of his skin.

"No," says Nene. "What we're witnessing is another level of stupidity." 

Rui drags his eyes from Tsukasa to look at her, painting fake hurt across his delicate features. "Nene, and here I thought we were dear friends. How could you insult me so?" 

"Nene-Robo hasn't been out in the cold for this long before," is what Nene says, before Tsukasa has a proper chance to think about anything. "I noticed a strange sound coming from one of the arms on the way over, after you and I separated to wait for Tsukasa. Do you think you could check it out?"

"Mm."

Rui's attention drifts towards Nene-Robo, who hasn't moved an inch from the pile of snowballs across the long stretch of benches.

"Yes. A thorough inspection should be made. It seems like Nene-Robo's system has shut itself down as well as a safety precaution."

Typical. After hitting Tsukasa in the face with a lethal snowball first.

"I don't recall her being left out in harsh climates for a long period of time before," Rui goes on, unawares. "Let me take a look before we go. It shouldn't take long."

"Thanks."

He wanders off in Nene-Robo's direction.

Worried for their fifth, robotic troupe-mate, Emu tags along.

Tsukasa watches them go. 

Then he turns to Nene who's -

Looking at him like she's suddenly suffering something awful.

He'd ask about it, but there's something else bugging him more.

"No. Hold on. Speaking of Nene-Robo. The real question we need to be asking is why no one's said anything to you once after all this time of a giant robot walking alongside you on the street. Shouldn't people find it strange?"

"It's probably the same reason why no one says anything to you about the way you walk on the street," Nene responds.

"What way?"

"Idiotically."

"Rude!"

"Sorry. It slipped out," she says entirely unapologetic. 

"What do you mean it slipped out? That was a straightforward statement! No room for misinterpretation!"

Nene touches the earmuffs on her head. "Huh? Did you say something?"

"Those are earmuffs, not noise-canceling headphones! I know you heard me!"

"Oh. Then can you hear me?"

"Of course I can!"

"Then."

Nene gazes at him, face unreadable.

"Just now. Back then. You had a really embarrassing expression. Do you like Rui's scarf that much?"

Tsukasa stares at her.

He stares.

She stares back.

His mind empties a bit.

He flushes beet red.

"Don't be ridiculous!"

He hurries off to join Emu and Rui, tripping in a snowdrift along the way. 

~x~

Nene's words stick in his head, a bothersome burr, the whole thirty minute walk to the storehouse.

They stick in his head because she's right.

But it wasn't because it was Rui's scarf. It was just because it was a scarf.

That's all.

And because it was warm. 

A warm scarf. 

And he'd been cold. 

~x~

When they get to the storehouse and open the door, bringing in a gust of wind and snow, they find Shousuke and Keisuke otherwise preoccupied playing with an all-too-familiar robotic dog.

"Pochi?" says Tsukasa, surprised, entering in last.

Shousuke jerks when he sees them and scrambles to his feet, coughing, face shifting into one of gruff sternness.

"Took you kids long enough."

Keisuke stays seated on the floor, unfazed, greeting them all.

"Good. You're all here. I apologize for the abrupt meeting, but there was some information I thought we'd share concerning your future stages after the break. We'd like to move forward with your input and confirmations with our affiliated partners before the new year comes."

"I'm sorry for being so late," Tsukasa replies, eyes glued to Rui's mechanical creation running around Keisuke and pouncing onto Shousuke's pant leg after.

Why did he seem much more lifelike than before?

"I updated his memory bank last night, remember?" Rui says from beside him, as if reading his mind. "He can also do basic trigonometry now."

"What," says Tsukasa.

"What," says Shousuke.

Rui gets to a knee and beckons and croons.

"Come here, Pochi. There's a very important meeting we must get to~"

The dog stops tearing at the cuff on Shousuke's pants and scurries into Rui's hands.

Rui rises.

He turns and places the robot into Tsukasa's hold next.

"Here."

"Uh - "

"Ack! Look at my pants!" Shousuke suddenly exclaims. "What am I supposed to do with these?"

"Hm. I'll buy you another pair for Christmas," Keisuke tells him, smiling. "Just act surprised."

Shousuke makes a face at him. "I don't want pants from you, aniki."

"Then, I'll get you some!" Emu jumps in, determined.

Shousuke looks at her. "No. I'm saying I don't want pants. Seriously there are better things."

"Pants are practical, Shousuke," Keisuke assures him. "You can use them for anything."

"I know what pants are. What's wrong with you? Why are you two so fixated on buying me them?"

"Shousuke-onii-chan, you brought it up first."

"Because I was attacked by a dog."

Nene sighs from Tsukasa's other side as the trio of siblings begins discussing pants in earnest.

"Why do I have a feeling this meeting will run into the night?"

Rui walks to the nearest wall, gently moving aside a few stage props, before settling down.

He pats the empty spot beside him.

Tsukasa looks at it.

He looks at the Ootori siblings.

He looks at the dog wagging its small tail in his hands.

He slouches and trudges over to join his long-jacketed, turtle-necked friend.

Seriously. Why had he come running over to the park like his life depended on it?

He should've known this was how the afternoon would go.

Their troupe had been long overdue on ridiculous shenanigans for a while. 

His eyes drop to the robotic dog gnawing harmlessly on his finger.

He attempts to scratch it behind the ears.

"...Can he really do math?" 

"He can," says Rui lightly, settling his elbow in Tsukasa's side amicably. "I'll show you later."

~x~

The meeting does not run into the night, despite Nene's words.

It runs approximately for an hour, as Keisuke and Shousuke (after settling down and casting the pants debate aside) sit with them in a detailed, in-depth explanation of calendar events and potential prospective show locations, clientele and stages that could be modified, rented or built to suit the various magnitudes of their performances.

"Nothing is set in stone, but these schematics could serve of some use," Keisuke had said.

Maybe it'd been the tiredness of his running around finally settling in.

Maybe it'd been the relative blue darkness sweeping through the storehouse as the snow blustered about outside its secure four walls.

Maybe it'd been the comfortableness, and familiar feeling of unity and companionship brought on from sitting in close proximity with trusted people and friends.

But Tsukasa leans against Rui, eyes half-lidded, dozing dog in his lap, on the verge of sleep himself.

He watches absently as Rui sorted through a number of stage schematics, humming and making comments to what Emu's oldest brother is saying.

Nene sits on Rui's other side.

Emu lies on her stomach, across one of Tsukasa's legs, poking at the diagrams Rui discards.

And the four of them stay like that - even after Shousuke and Keisuke take their eventual leave, storehouse door clicking shut behind them, sealing out the cold.

"That was informative," Nene says after an extended minute. "They seem to have big plans."

"They do," Emu agrees, looking up at her brightly. "They're even thinking about hosting another Show Contest for the park. Not for any real competition! Just to showcase the different stages and their troupes."

"That could be fun," Rui notes, a smile in his voice. "We could make use of the show we never performed last time around."

"Yeah!" Emu cheers. "And perform it better than before, with how we've grown!" 

"Yes~" Rui encourages. "Indeed."

A light quiet falls.

A moment passes.

Tsukasa spends it thinking of nothing, but feeling - oddly - a great deal of everything.

Though he couldn't place what that particular sense 'everything' was.

Oh well.

He supposed that was just what being a part of this troupe was.

"Tsukasa-kun?" Emu asks, eventually breaking the lull.

"Hm?"

"Do you want your coat back?"

Two other pair of eyes shift towards him, immediately, at the question.

He quits looking at Rui's hand on the picture of some circular stage and looks at her instead, pulling himself out of his calm sluggishness.

"My coat? No. Not until we leave. Why?"

Emu hums.

And frowns.

And hums some more.

"Mmmm. I don't know. Something feels off? You look a little strange. Maybe it's because you normally have a lot more to say when we talk about shows. You were quiet this time."

"Oh. That."

He moves off Rui and straightens up a small bit, shaking his head.

"I had a late night and slept too much after, then ran some errands earlier on before Nene told me to be here. It's just catching up with me. Think nothing of it."

"That's right," Nene says as if remembering. She frowns at him. "Emu has a point. You look off."

She starts to take off the earmuffs and hat he'd given her.

He's quick to stop her.

"No, no, no. It's not what you think, I'm telling you."

"Nevertheless," Rui speaks, looking at Tsukasa directly. "You are dressed poorly." His golden eyes are startlingly clear and intent. "Why don't we call it a day?"

"What? But we didn't brainstorm anything. Or pack up our stage." 

"Sorry. Let me clarify." Rui plucks the sleeping robotic dog out of Tsukasa's lap. "Why don't you call it a day, Tsukasa-kun? Nene, Emu-kun and I can handle the rest." 

"No way," Tsukasa refuses, stubborn. "I'm saying you're misunderstanding."

Five minutes later, diagrams and notes are stowed away anyway, and Tsukasa finds himself- for reasons beyond his understanding - accompanied by the rest of his troupe back to the Tenma household against his will.

Nene gives him back his hat and gloves and earmuffs and jacket at the foot of his stairs. "Go warm up inside."

His mouth bends down, deeply vexed by the situation. "I am warm."

He is.

He's nearly sweating.

Nene looks at him, taking a jab.

"Right. I forgot you would be. With your t-shirt. And Rui's scarf."

There's no time for Tsukasa to humiliate himself with some sort of snappy exclamation in his defense because Rui, standing directly behind her - takes a contemplative look at Tsukasa and says:

"Why don't you keep it, Tsukasa-kun? I have others at home." 

"I don't - I don't need it - " Tsukasa starts, faltering - when Emu puts her own scarf in the pile of clothes filling his arms and adds -

"Have this too! You should take better care of yourself, Tsukasa-kun!"

"I'm at my house. There's no need for - "

They turn as a group and leave before he finishes.

He watches them go.

And watches them go further, a closely-bound trio, united in their unanimity towards him, onto the street.

Then he starts down the stairs, sputtering.

"Wait a second - !"

They don't.

"KAITO."

"Something the matter, Tsukasa-kun?"

He sits at his desk, jotting down the notes he recalls from Emu's brothers; two journals open, one personal, one for work; a spread of colored pens for organizational purposes spread out at his disposal.

He might have been sleepy, but that didn't mean he hadn't been paying attention.

A self-made cup of herbal tea curls with steam next to a ruler, off to the side of one of the journals.

KAITO's hologram sits next to it, from his phone, legs crossed.

Tsukasa hadn't realized it for a while - so consumed with dutifully transferring memory to paper - but the late afternoon had sunk quickly into evening.

The house is quiet and empty. 

And in it's prolonged silence, his pen pauses as he asks.

"Do I seem sick to you?"

"Sick?"

KAITO studies him thoughtfully.

"Hmm...."

He takes a long enough pause after that, that Tsukasa finds himself glancing over.

The Virtual Singer holds his chin, seemingly intrigued.

"What's that look for?" Tsukasa wonders.

"...Would you like me to be honest, Tsukasa-kun?"

"I depend on your reliability."

KAITO nods. "Alright. Lately, some of the plushies have had less energy and been more forgetful of their lines during our shows. Likewise, a handful of the flowers have been singing quieter. It didn't seem like any dispute had happened between yourself and the others, and nothing else seemed amiss. But if we're talking about peculiarities, those are a few."

KAITO smiles.

"We were born from your heart, first and foremost Tsukasa-kun. If there are disparities in our wonderland, perhaps there is indeed some correlation to how you feel outside of it. Did you ask me this because you're feeling unwell?"

"No," Tsukasa says immediately. "I mean - yes, that's one of the reasons why I asked. The others thought I might've been."

He mutters.

"They basically packed up and forced me back to home."

KAITO laughs lightly. "I'm sure it's just out of concern. A good night's sleep might help. You were running around a lot today. And on your first day of break."

"True."

Tsukasa leaves his pen entirely and slouches back in his chair, feeling worn out from spending so much time thinking about it in the first place.

His eyes wander towards his partially-open closet.

Rui's scarf is draped over a hanger.

He thinks back to a thing or two. 

And thinks back some more.

"...Say. KAITO."

"Yes?"

"What do you think about Rui?"

"Rui? His sense of direction is intuitive. His talent, unique and ingenious. I believe you'd call him a visionary. Overall, he's quite amazing, isn't he?"

"Yeah. Our shows wouldn't be what they are without him. I wouldn't be - "

Tsukasa hesitates.

He deflates.

Just a bit.

"WonderlandsxShowtime could grow a lot, putting on great stages, thanks to him. You know, he built this robotic dog from scratch and brought it to school yesterday. It was incredible. Then today when I saw it again, he said it could do math."

He can feel KAITO's curious gaze resting on him.

"So what's holding your thoughts, Tsukasa-kun?"

Tsukasa doesn't answer right away.

When he does, he's not sure what he's saying.

"There's been... something bothering me recently. I'm not sure what it is."

"About Rui."

"Yeah. How should I describe it?"

Tsukasa frowns.

"Like there's something I'm missing. Or maybe I'm not understanding. He's always been amazing, but has he always been - like this?"

"Like what?" KAITO questions. 

Tsukasa brings his eyes to the Virtual Singer - because it sounds like he's smiling - and lo and behold - KAITO is.

"What's so funny?"

"Was I laughing?" KAITO muses. "Sorry, Tsukasa-kun. Please, go on."

Tsukasa narrows his eyes. "You're suspicious. Did I say something strange?"

"Not at all."

"I don't believe you."

"I thought you came to me for the trustworthiness of my words."

Tsukasa makes a bunch of disgruntled noises but doesn't muster up a retort.

Rather, he doesn't get the chance to - because his phone rattles on the desk, buzzing loud.

KAITO flickers as Tsukasa reaches out to quickly pick up the call on speaker to make it stop.

"Hello?"

"Tsukasa-senpai?"

Tsukasa perks up immediately, flooded with affection and warmth.

"Oh! Touya! What has you calling on the first day of break? Though it's almost over."

"I don't mean to be a bother. Are you - perhaps free sometime tonight?" 

"Of course!" 

"Are you sure? That was a pretty fast answer." 

"That's because I have no plans. I finished everything with my troupe earlier on."

Technically.

If forcible ejection from participation in troupe activities counted.

"I see. Then... if you wouldn't mind."

Tsukasa listens to the odd tone in his kouhai's voice and frowns.

"Touya." he says sternly.

"Yes?" 

"Are you alright?" 

"...Yes." 

It's - frankly - the least convincing words Tsukasa's ever heard in his life.

Next to his own failed acting trysts.

He finds himself standing.

Going to his closet.

Tugging the closest scarf on.

Though evening hues swept the streets outside, it was still snowing.

He raises his voice slightly, so it can be heard from a distance.

"Touya, why don't we meet now? I'm really doing nothing. Of course - only if it's the same for you?"

There's a long, long pause from Touya's end of the line.

Then -

"I can. I've just - left home." 

"How long ago? Where are you?"

"A... A few hours ago. The park. Next to the mall."

So Touya hadn't 'just' left home.

"Go to the bookstore."

Tsukasa's tone leaves no room for argument.

"I'll meet you in thirty minutes. Don't go anywhere else, got it?"

"I - ....Sure. But Tsukasa-senpai, you don't need to rush. I'm quite alright, so - "

"Too bad! I'm already rushing," Tsukasa jovially calls out, despite the new, heavy worry brewing within him.

He hurries to his phone and picks it up with gusto.

KAITO had already disappeared.

"And now I'm hanging up! See you soon, Touya!"

"Tsukasa-se -"

He's out of his room, bounding down the stairs and shoving on shoes in an instant, tea and thoughts of Rui and KAITO and SEKAI and sicknesses out of his mind.

There was someone else who needed him, after all. 

Chapter Text

Under bright and golden store lights of the indoor mall, the purple, neon sign of meteor Books casts an aurora of purple hues on brown and white tile, cusping carpeted, beige floor as Tsukasa hurries over its threshold and into the organized curve of shelves and stands and novels and discount series on sale.

Sweat mars his brow and dampens his hair, made cold from the evening's sinking sun and chill.

Yet despite its dampness, he feels unbearably overwhelmed by noise and sound and heat.

He frowns as he slows his walk on the carpet of the library, and brings a hand to the neck of his parka, tugging its zipper down as he glances around.

Past the science-fiction, past non-fiction, around the curve of a sitting area and its couches and desks and lamps where biographies and signed pieces sit proudly on display; further past garland, silver and gold, with tinsel for the holiday -

Tsukasa finds him.

Touya, in a dark sweater and torn jeans, sits in a robust, red armchair before a faux fireplace, an equally dark coat and scarf in his lap; along with an open book.

He looks like he's invested in its story.

He looks perfectly comfortable.

But looks could be deceiving.

Tsukasa had years of practice with Saki's lies on her health before.

He's not near enough for Touya to notice, and that's alright, because he spends the finishing walk to his kouhai searching over quickly for signs of injury or discomfort before he sees nothing for certain.

Nonetheless, worried, he calls out all the same though the distance between them is but two arms' length away.

"Touya!"

His childhood junior startles, looking up and over.

Tsukasa feels himself frowning again, tone dropping to a scold.

"You had me worried with the way you sounded on the phone. But - you're alright?"

Touya's book is left on the armchair with his coat and scarf as he rises.

"Yes, I'm fine."

Touya looks over him apologetically, a small knit in his brow and concern in his gray eyes.

"I tried telling you before you hung up, but..."

Tsukasa's can't bring himself to believe him.

They texted everyday checking in on each other, and spoke through the phone often; and when they weren't doing that, they sent videos and pictures of things of interest instead.

If it wasn't dire, wouldn't Touya have shared his worries over the phone as usual with him?

But Touya had asked to meet in person. And so late.

Plus it was his home Touya had left. That tended to allude to one or more specific problems.

Namely involving family.

"Sorry," Tsukasa says aloud regardless. "I didn't mean to cause a ruckus."

There were eyes on them, not all of them in the merry spirit of oncoming Christmas either.

He supposed he'd been a bit loud.

"Tsukasa-senpai, it's no problem," Touya answers, gaze studying him, carefully still. "I'm happy to see you and grateful you came as soon as you could. Do you want to sit? You look a little tired."

He felt it too.

But he had spent a good thirty minutes dashing from house, across busy crosswalks and packed streets to get here.

So he refuses.

"No need." He plants his hands on his waist, serious and earnest. "So talk to me, Touya. Who's done you wrong?"

"Done me wrong?" Touya echoes.

"Was it another fight between you and your father?" Tsukasa questions.

Touya's head cants to the side in inquisitive reflection, before he seems to realize something and he shakes his head.

"We didn't fight. I left on my own accord."

"Huh? Then - "

"I wanted to hear your thoughts on a different matter," Touya shares. "I wondered if I should visit your house directly, keep it as a call or rather not bother you at all. But in the end, my indecisiveness won over and I found myself asking to see you regardless."

A hand to his chest.

"For that, I apologize. I didn't mean to inconvenience you."

"Touya," now it's Tsukasa shaking his head, in disapproval. "It's never an inconvenience. How many times should I tell you?"

"It seems a few more times still," Touya answers, apologetic fondness crossing his features before flickering back to impassivity. "I needed to pick up a gift as well. That is, to say..."

He hesitates.

"I was hoping I could get your opinion."

"It's shopping you want to do?" Tsukasa wonders.

"Yes." 

Then I wonder why he sounds so... 

"That's fine by me," Tsukasa tells him. "I'm always dragging you around on my impromptu shopping errands, so it's about time I return the favor. Let's go!"

"Sure," Touya nods. "Let me put this book back where it belongs."

"Mm!"

Touya collects his coat and scarf and drapes them over his arm, picking up the hardcover book he'd been reading next.

His gaze lingers on it for but a second, before he fully straightens and offers Tsukasa another smile.

They walk together in a direction Touya leads, arms brushing, shoulders grazing, the drifting of winter jazz melodies playing from the library's speakers faintly overhead.

After a minute of amicable silence, Tsukasa speaks.

"What were you reading?"

"A book on flowers," Touya answers after only a second of pause.

"Gardening? You're interested in that?" Tsukasa asks, intrigued. He had no idea. But - "Rui's a part of the school committee. I could ask him to show you a thing or two, and if you really wanted, I'm sure we could get an application form when the time comes around for more recruitment."

"Ah, it's not a book of that nature," Touya informs him kindly. "But thank you for your consideration. With band practice and library duties I don't think I'd have the time."

He passes the book to Tsukasa without looking, tone softening, leveling out.

"Seasons of growth. The blossoming of feelings. It's metaphorical. Poetic. But somehow straight to the point."

"A romance? That's surprising," Tsukasa notes, eyebrows high. He turns the book over and reads its back. "You're so into mystery and adventure."

Interesting.

Such a simple blue cover with a minimal design of a silver-sketched flower.

And the story - one on two highschoolers, the protagonist and his friend, coming to terms with their feelings after falling in love -

Tsukasa pauses.

He blinks.

He gives the back a read again.

"...It's a good read," Touya says from beside him, and Tsukasa can feel the gaze resting on the side of his head. "I enjoy it a lot."

But as nonchalantly as Touya says it, there's a carefulness in his voice; a measured note of uncertainty.

Yet, their steps, side-by-side, don't slow.

Touya sets foot first on the staircase in the far back of the library, leading upwards to the second floor.

Leading still towards a section of books for young adults.

Catered towards discovery. 

Ah. 

A burst of affection.

A flood of tickles.

They stop between shelves; titles on identity and change, and Tsukasa turns to Touya and hands him back the book, thoughtful.

"I haven't visited this spot before. If I'm being honest, I didn't know there was a second floor at all."

"You do tend to go to the embroidery store next door more often," Touya comments.

"That's because they have weekly deals," Tsukasa replies.

He glances around them, contemplatively.

"I should take more time to explore up here, shouldn't I? It looks like there are a ton of great books to be found I haven't heard of yet."

Touya's eyes on him stay.

He doesn't make a move to shelve the book he'd been reading.

"You wouldn't mind it? Reading books like this?"

Tsukasa lifts a brow. "Should I?"

Touya's own brow furrows. "It's not what most people willingly...."

He trails off.

He looks at Tsukasa as if really looking at him, as if really seeing who's before him - and he loses the near unnoticeable line of tension in his shoulders, present in his tone; lingering in his eyes.

His features smooth.

A small smile graces his face. 

"Of course, Tsukasa-senpai isn't most people, is he?"

"No, he's not," Tsukasa smiles back up at him. "He's a thousand times more reliable; more capable than anyone else. And his love and appreciation for those important to him doesn't ever waver or change. No matter what."

"...Tsukasa-senpai."

Touya's eyes gleam.

He opens his mouth.

Tsukasa waits without rush, holding himself back along with the very strong urge to grab a hold of Touya and drag him in his arms.

Plan give-his-little-brother-a-hug is put on hold, however, as Touya's smile grows and as Touya says:

"Shopping. Would it be alright if we went to a few stores on this level and the one above?"

"Yeah," says Tsukasa, entirely preoccupied with thoughts of when and where would be an ideal time to snag a hold of his kouhai without it being too alarming or sudden.

Touya chuckles and Tsukasa has no clue why, but he follows his underclassman nonetheless out the wide exit opening up directly onto the second floor of the mall.

Touya's coat and scarf go back on.

Glass walls, wood walks, a cacophony of music, footsteps, chatter, family and friends.

They wander together for a time, and as they do, going into a clothing store full of fancy sneakers and sweats, Touya's much earlier spoken words come back to Tsukasa and sit in his head.

"That reminds me. Touya."

Tsukasa puts down the blue bomber jacket he'd picked off its display hanger.

"What did you want to hear my opinion on?"

Touya turns from a shelf of sweatbands, blinking.

"Huh? But you already..."

Tsukasa blinks right back at him, confused.

"What?"

"...Ah. No - " Touya says after a moment. 

He gazes at at Tsukasa so full of affection Tsukasa's only further drawn into bamboozlement.

"Never mind, senpai. I'm buying a gift for Akito. You happened to run into him earlier today, didn't you?"

"Yeah. Super early. He was with Akiyama," Tsukasa says, surprised.

"I thought so," Touya muses.

"Why's that?"

"Well."

Touya lets out the tiniest of laughs, not seeming to realize he's done it at all.

"A few hours ago, we visited the restaurant on the corner when he finished his errands, and he was in quite a foul mood. When I asked him about it, he said he spent the entire morning and afternoon being teased by Akiyama-san about 'back alley performances around the world' and 'spreading his wings' until he managed to escape from them. Then he apologized directly and told me if he sees you in the next week at all during the winter break, he'll toss you."

"How violent!" Tsukasa exclaims, taken aback. "Toss me where? What's wrong with him?"

Touya laughs quietly again, amused lilt to the corner of his mouth. "What's wrong with him? He said the exact same thing about you."

Tsukasa scowls. "Sometimes I think he has it out for me. He threw me in the grass at the festival after that race, you know."

"Yeah," Touya keeps smiling. "I saw."

"Wait."

Tsukasa thinks back to their call on the phone.

"A few hours ago? Isn't that when you said you left home and went to the park? Where you sat before you called me?"

"Yes."

Touya's face loses its smile slightly.

 Tsukasa kicks himself for being the reason.

After all, if Touya had left home -

No. But he said he left on his own; that it wasn't a fight with his father. So -

"I went back home briefly after eating with Akito. But I found I couldn't get myself to settle down. That's why I came back out."

"Why was that? What happened?"

Touya sighs, barely audible, but a slump comes to the line of his shoulders nonetheless.

They find themselves departing from the store and idly making their way into their next; brightly lit, pastel and white; home to stationary and notebooks and markers and pens.

At length, while gazing at a notepad decorated in the print of an elaborate flower, Touya speaks.

"...My father. We've stopped fighting over music. I won't return to how things were, practicing with the forced ideal of classical music as my future and way of life. However."

Touya's eyes wander to a display case by the register, looking at nothing, but appearing to see a great deal beyond.

"There's a show the eve of Christmas. It's a personal one. My father will be traveling to an old friend's estate further north to perform on their property, in their home, as a gift. Welcoming a new daughter to the family. It's truly cause for celebration. My father asked me to come along. But... I have a feeling, although we've come to understand one another feelings better, there must still be a part of him hoping I'll perform a piece myself. I used to, for that family, when I was younger."

Touya shakes his head.

This time the sigh that leaves him, leaves him loud and weary.

He faces Tsukasa, mouth bent.

"I'm not so against it as I might have been before. I've already begun considering an appropriate piece for the occasion. The issue is - Akito can't come along."

Tsukasa, who had been listening in with a frown, frowns a bit more, trying his best to discern the root of his kouhai's concern.

"Akito?"

"I was looking forward to spending the holiday with him. He's been eager all week to take us to a snowboarding lodge in the opposite direction of my father's friend. You know Akito. You see how passionate he is. He's been so adamant about not having me fall into that lifestyle again; of following my father's wishes unless it's something I truly want to do in a place I truly want to be."

Touya takes the time to stop; to carefully form and share his next words.

"I believe there's a part of Akito that fears I'll leave. Akito and my father have more than once butt heads. To say they don't get along is an understatement."

"They've met?" Tsukasa asks, shocked.

"I tried to introduce them a while ago. With how my father is when it comes to outside influences, especially one so on the other side of what my father approves of, like Akito..."

Touya glances off.

Glances back.

"The relationship between my father and I is getting better. Slowly, but surely. If he learns I'd rather not go to his friend's because I'll be traveling with Akito, I'm not sure what strain that might give what we've so carefully mended. But sitting with Akito tonight, in the hours before meeting you, I couldn't help but think.... How could I refuse him? I wouldn't. No. Rather. I can't."

Touya strides from the store then, so suddenly, so brusquely, Tsukasa jerks in alarm and spins around and hurries after.

"Touya?"

Touya doesn't stop walking nor does he slow.

The first floor is descended to.

The outside wind cuts their skin in wind and hail as the moon curves, shadowed by winter's clouds in the darkened night above.

The glow of the mall falls on their shoulders; falls on their heads, and halfway along the sidewalk leading away from it, Touya halts.

Tsukasa runs into his back, smashing his nose.

"Ow! Touya, what -"

Touya turns.

Snow dusts his shoulders.

The dark of his coat.

His scarf.

The curve of his hair.

When he looks at Tsukasa, it's with lowered brows and upset features, grey eyes shining - burning stars brought down from the darkened skies.

His mouth opens and words seem to form without sound - a wave - before tumbling, spilling out.

"Tsukasa-senpai. Since I've met you, I've become brave. I've stopped doubting who and what I can be. I've learned kindness and care in misery, isolation and grief. If you showed the path waiting through the hedges and thorns and four walls of a confined home, then Akito is the one met on the sidewalk beyond it. We've walked so long together over cracked cement, even when separated, his shadow is still there."

His voice shakes.

His face breaks.

"I'm frightened. What should I do, I wonder. When it's at Akito's side I'd rather be the most."

Street and mall lights burn a halo around their heads; gold and shadow across their stagnant feet.

"Will my father understand this?"

"Touya."

Tsukasa gathers the hands of his precious kouhai across from him.

Cloud fogs from his mouth.

He gazes at the frozen fingers cupped within his own; fingers calloused from endless years of chasing another's passions and dreams; calloused but malleable - so vulnerable still.

There is a boy in his memory, a childhood playmate who couldn't be called a friend, for Tsukasa had seen him as more.

Someone to protect and encourage and love wholeheartedly.

Someone who once saved Tsukasa from loneliness.

Who told Tsukasa every year since they'd met, the words:

Thank you.

Though Tsukasa hadn't done anything.

Not truly.

Even at Tsukasa's side, Touya had been alone.

In the end, it had been Akito.

Tsukasa would forever be grateful to him, for grabbing a hold of Touya's hand and pointing in the direction of an untraveled road set to be carved by their own creation.

It wells in him.

Emotion.

Happiness.

Acknowledgement.

His eyes burn.

"Tsukasa-senpai?"

Startled worry.

Tsukasa smiles, though it's wrought in unshed tears.

Really. How embarrassing.

What kind of cool and dependable senpai was moved near to crying from something like this?

Indeed, Touya was kind.

He was the one with trouble, yet here he was, concerned over Tsukasa instead?

No.

Tsukasa looks up at his childhood companion, smile growing, slowly shaking his head.

"Will your father understand? What you really want is the freedom to be with Akito. You've said it, haven't you? Isn't that enough?"

"I - But my father - "

"Will have to keep being a bit disappointed for a time."

Tsukasa holds Touya's hands within his own tighter.

"Your father might not understand. He might not support you now. He might even resent Akito in the same way Akito resents him for leading you in a direction, your father can't wrap his head around right now. But that's alright. Despite everything, his mistakes - the moment you've stood up and walked away on your own, he's tried to figure you out best that he can. In the stiff way that he does. He came to your show to support you. He worries when you come home late because he loves you. So it's fine to continue as you are, Touya."

Tsukasa's smile brightens.

"After all. That was your real worry, wasn't it? Whether to tell your father the bond you and Akito share is one more than friends."

Touya - is very still.

Stunned.

"...Tsukasa-senpai. But I didn't say a word to you about Akito or I. How did you already....?"

"You didn't have to," Tsukasa says, chuckling, affection blooming in his chest and in his words. "It's a little obvious. Well. To everyone but the proper adults in our lives it seems."

He releases Touya's hands.

He lifts one of his own to his chin and tilts his head, smiling smaller but no less fondly.

"Your father likely won't support it in this moment. He might reject it callously, with harsh words and disapproval. But know coming to understand and accept the important things you love is a part of properly mending a relationship too. If time passes and still he won't, remember you have friends. You have Akito. You have me. Your life is to be lived as you like it. As you choose. Who can take that away from you, but yourself?"

"Tsukasa-senpai," says Touya again - and there's a light in his eyes - color on his cheeks, and a smile so open, warm and big, Tsukasa gets startled seeing it for long enough that he doesn't register the arms gathering him into the slowest, softest hug until Touya has already pulled him in.

It's over as soon as it happens.

Touya steps back, smiling so radiantly still.

"Senpai. I knew it. In the end it's you."

Tsukasa doesn't understand the meaning of the statement.

Touya goes on.

"You're right. My father doesn't have to understand the reason why. Not right now. Because this is what I want, and I know my feelings for Akito regardless. Tsukasa-senpai, what would I do without you?"

"Still great things, I imagine," Tsukasa tells him honestly. "Really, Touya, there isn't anything on this earth you can't achieve. So long as you believe it. So long as you try."

"Yes. That's right. You told me the same thing when we were younger. I remember it."

Touya's expression settles, content.

Tsukasa reaches out and does his best to wipe the snow off his taller kouhai's shoulders.

As he does, Touya tells him:

"I'm glad, you know. For a long time, I was worried. I wondered, growing up, if you'd be okay."

"Hm?"

Tsukasa steps back, clapping his hands, snow melting in his palms; the rest of its stubborn flakes carried off in the drifting wind.

"Why worry about something like that? Aren't I fine?"

"Sometimes you forget to take care of yourself," Touya tells him, straightforward, but not unkindly. "That's why I feel better knowing Kamishiro-senpai is there when I can't be."

Tsukasa blinks at the mention of the name.

"Rui?"

"Yes." Touya looks at him. "...You...aren't aware?"

"Of what?"

Touya stares.

He stares at Tsukasa for a time, and opens his mouth - and closes it. Seemingly, genuinely surprised.

"I was under the impression you and Kamishiro-senpai were - "

Touya stops.

"...No. Never mind, perhaps."

Tsukasa isn't really sure what Touya had been getting at, but he's happy to see Touya's no longer hiding the burden of his troubles.

Still -

"We never did pick out that gift for Akito," he mentions. "Should we?"

"Oh."

Touya straightens, clearly having forgotten in the midst of their new conversation.

"Yes. We should." 

~x~

So they do.

And as the re-enter the mall, find a good shop, and spend an hour discussing the fashion in a catalog Akito would be most interested in, Tsukasa drags Touya off in the direction of the neon, flashing lights of the dark and noisy arcade tucked away in the corner of the basement level.

"I'm totally getting you back for that time you cheated and helped Saki over me. Pick up your weapon, Touya!"

He gets crushed in the versus fighting game.

He loses fifteen dollars in the crane machines and watches Touya win five stuffed animals in six tries.

A racing game.

A mallet game.

Tsukasa gets so immersed in the impromptu competition between himself and his pseudo-little-brother, lights and music flashing, pinballs flying and missing, he forgets about the winter sitting outside, the clock-hands of time, past and future and change.

They're two kids, aged five, then eight, then twelve again, playing to be beside one another.

Playing with smiles and laughter to win.

~x~

Hours later, as night deepens, frost coats the sidewalks, and the moon shines in full, they trek together towards Touya's household, a single bag from shopping hooked over one of Touya's arms.

Tsukasa fans himself, as he'd been doing so for the last fifteen minutes, flushed and hot and sweating, tiredness but satisfaction in every trudged step.

He shakes out his collar, peeling his shirt away with a finger to let the frigid air seep onto skin.

"I'm beat," he laments. "In every way. How did you win every game? How is that possible? You're a living game hack."

Touya chuckles small, glancing at Tsukasa, smiling, from the corner of his eyes.

"You do look exhausted senpai. You danced particularly hard to that last song. The spins and jumps weren't a part of the choreography. I thought you might fall."

"I had to try twice as hard to keep up with you. Your dancing's only gotten sharper."

Tsukasa drop his fingers; breathes in air.

Huffs.

Bemused.

"Particularly at the end during the grand finale. Everyone was cheering you on."

"You're mistaken," Touya muses, affectionate. "Everyone's eyes were on you. The stunts you pulled were an amazing sight."

Well, he supposed the sight of someone nearly breaking their back would draw attention, yes.

Tsukasa laughs softly aloud all the same.

"For everything that's changed, just as much has stayed the same, hasn't it?"

"Yes. I think so too."

Their smiles linger as they finish the journey towards Touya's home together.

On his street, nearing Touya's house, Tsukasa gets a text.

Then another.

And another.

In quick succession, the buzzing hard to ignore.

He's in the middle of pulling it out as Touya watches on, curious, when the texts stop and a call shakes the phone in his palm. 

Saki on screen.

Tsukasa answers right away as he and Touya walk on.

"Saki?"

"Onii-chan! You're not home?"

"Eh? No, I'm not. What's going on?"

"It's almost eleven. Where are you?"

"With Touya."

"Touya-kun? You went out and had fun together and lost track of time, didn't you? It's always like this with you guys," she sighs.

Touya's house comes into view.

Tsukasa tries not to talk so loud.

Touya's steps slow, naturally, to accommodate.

"Wait, Saki, I'm confused. Where exactly are you? It sounds dead quiet."

"That's because it is. I'm home, onii-chan. The house is empty."

Alarm.

"What? I thought you were staying at Honami's."

"I was going to, but we spent the whole day together, you know, so I thought I'd come home and hang out with you for the rest of the night and tomorrow so you wouldn't be alone."

Alone?

"Saki, you shouldn't have," he chides. "Even if I was alone, it would've been fine. I'm used to it. Why didn't you enjoy more time with your friends?"

"Just because you're used to it, doesn't mean it's okay - " Saki starts, in a huff, voice raising slightly.

But she stops.

So suddenly, Tsukasa gets concerned.

"...Saki?"

"...Geez. Forget about it, onii-chan. Just... make sure you get home safe. I'll be here. I have a lot to tell you about the movie."

"Oh. Alright," Tsukasa says, a little stilted; a little baffled. "I'll be there soon."

The call disconnects.

He lowers the phone and finds himself turning his head to look up at Touya who's stopped and moved in front of him, next to the pathway to his house.

There's an expression on Touya's face.

Not displeased. But not approving.

It's a drastic change in mood from before.

"Touya, you alright?"

"I'm fine, senpai." Touya's hand comes out. The back of his knuckles rest on Tsukasa's forehead. "It's only - "

His hand returns to his side.

He frowns.

"Being alone. You're not truly okay with that. Are you?"

"Of course I am," Tsukasa answers, moderately baffled as to why Touya had brought his hand to him.

"... I see."

Touya doesn't look like he believes him.

A bit of an awkward silence settles.

Tsukasa clears his throat.

He puts on a beaming grin - but keeps his voice respectably down.

"I had fun today, Touya. Thank you for confiding in me. I'm always glad to be here for you when you need me."

"Yes, I had fun too, Tsukasa-senpai. I - "

And Touya sighs.

His mouth curves up, the tiniest lift.

"Well. Please don't forget I'm here for you as well. Take care of yourself."

"Mn, I will!"

Touya seems a bit reluctant to leave.

But eventually - he does.

Tsukasa watches his underclassman depart and wander up the walkway to the front of his stairs, to the front of his door, unlocking and stepping inside.

There are lights that flick on.

Tsukasa watches on for a moment longer.

Then he turns around.

His own trip back to home will only take twenty minutes or so.

Still - his feet don't move quite yet.

His attention, distantly, is drawn to the newly falling white dancing, twirling, spinning, slow and measured from inky sky to pale, iced ground.

Snow again?

He holds out his hand.

Absently he gazes as several fractured pieces fall thickly onto his bare palm.

...What a strange thing for Touya and Saki to say.

Alone.

Tsukasa hadn't been for a long time now.

His hand drops.

He starts the quiet trip back to home. 

The next day, he can't quite wake up.

Or at least - it takes some effort.

It's a gray-chilled morning, fully settled in the white of winter past the red draw of thick curtains next to his bed.

He hadn't managed to close them fully before falling into bed the night before.

Saki had waited up until he arrived back, thirty minutes to midnight.

But she hadn't told him any stories of her day spent out with Ichika and the others.

She'd been in her pajamas, on her phone, in the corner of the living room couch texting furiously, an extremely large mug of hot chocolate on the table in front of her, TV shut off.

When he had leaned over the couch, confused, trying to see who she was messaging with such an upset look on her face, she had shrieked, drawn her phone away and scolded him for peeking.

She had ushered him to his room after, ran back downstairs, and thudded up the stairs again a minute later, putting the mug in his hands, features pinched. 

"We can always talk tomorrow. Drink this and go to sleep."

 She had left abruptly after before he could say anything in response.

Befuddled, nose and fingers numb from the outdoor adventure to their house, he had sat at his desk, stared into the mug of dark sweet liquid - and left it.

The gesture from his sister had been more than appreciated, but he hadn't been able to get himself to drink it.

He had supposed because it was late.

So he had gone to the bathroom, showered, changed clothes, and brushed his teeth methodically, absently, gazing at his reflection in the mirror that really had looked spent.

A long day it had been, after all.

He rolls onto his back, sheets tangling, eyes on the ceiling above him, mind foggy, slow to wake from the murkiness of a cold dream he can't recall.

His pillow is damp; neck warm.

He frowns.

He wipes his brow with a bare arm and feels around blindly for his phone.

Not on his bed?

He stops searching.

He lies boneless in the tangle of blue and white sheets for a few minutes, tired, before forcing himself to sit and shift the sheets aside.

He gets up and searches for his phone with a bit more focus.

His desk.

His closet.

The pockets of his coat worn last night.

He spends time pulling back his bedsheets and holding them and gazing at the pillows in moderate confusion before dropping the sheets back down and heading out to the hall.

He's on his third back-and-forth from his room to bedroom, barefeet padding soft on the cold wooden floors. 

The heat isn't on? That isn't good. Saki will be cold.

He wanders downstairs the silent household, towards the kitchen and foyer for the thermostat.

The heat is on.

He stands in front of the small device on the wall trying to figure out whether he's freezing or hot or still caught in the delusional throes of sleep until a voice starts calling his name insistently.

"Tsukasa-kun! Tsukasa-kuuun! Over here!"

He turns his head.

On the kitchen counter, a small visage of Miku jumps and waves her arms.

"Miku?"

His phone.

He goes over, bamboozled, voice leaving, quieter, softened by the vestiges of dazed slumber.

"What are doing? Anyone could see you."

Although he hadn't heard a peep of sound from Saki's room.

It was ten and while Tsukasa never usually slept in that in late, it was more common on free days off for his sister to take the time for deep, dream-filled rests.

"But, but -"

Miku's arms lower. She raises them before her, argumentatively persistent.

"Tsukasa-kun left us here and never came to pick us back up. We were worried."

"What do you mean?"

Miku frowns big and deep.

"Tsukasa-kun did this just before the witching hour. For a long, long, long time, Tsukasa-kun stood in front the thermostat and stared at it before turning it waayyy up~! Then Tsukasa-kun went upstairs and forgot to take us. You even came down a second time and turned it back down."

"I did?" Tsukasa wonders.

"Yes! I tried calling you into the SEKAI from far away once you were put back to bed, but Tsukasa-kun was too caught up in a fwa fwa dream!"

Tsukasa leans on the counter, arms folding idly as he engages in conversation with her hologram.

"Fwa fwa dream? What's that supposed to be?"

"A dream full of clouds," Miku gestures, arms wide before planting her hands on her hips. "I shouted for hours with no luck. Even KAITO couldn't reach you."

"Would KAITO have been able to better somehow?"

"I don't know. Tsukasa-kun listens to him more." Miku says it brightly as always, but her ears and tail droop.

Tsukasa's eyebrows bend, small smile coming to him.

"Hey now, that's not true, is it? Isn't Miku the one who heard the thoughts and feelings of this superstar first?"

Her ears and tail perk back up.

"Hmmm, mhmmm~ That's right!" She lifts her finger and wags it at him all the same. "That's right, so come to me more when you're having troubles, alright? I'll listen and do my best to help you."

He chuckles gently. "Alright, I got it."

"Do you?" She leans forward, tiny, glowing pinky held out. "Do you prooomise~?"

He holds out his pinky, despite knowing a shake between the two of them is impossible.

"I promise. I'll be better."

Miku hugs around his pinky, feet dangling, head curiously tilting as she looks past his finger and hand and up into his eyes at the words.

"Tsukasa-kun's already doing great. What would you need to be better at?"

The question makes Tsukasa think.

And further makes him pause.

He had said it because it seemed right; because it seemed natural.

But Miku's point was valid.

What exactly was he trying to be better at?

He contemplates deeply as Miku begins doing acrobatic swings and poses around his held-out pinky and hand.

He was... too tired to think about this properly.

He was sure there something important about it though.

Miku... she really does give me new things to consider.

Maybe KAITO would have an answer for them. 

Ah - wait. Here I am doing it again. 

Tsukasa lowers his chin onto his folded arms, smile curving derisively.

He did depend on KAITO's wisdom a lot, didn't he?

He sighs.

MEIKO pops up on the free half of his phone screen.

"Tsukasa-kun, you're awake."

"Oh, MEIKO," he perks up moderately, head lifting off his arms marginally. "I haven't seen you in a while."

"You haven't visited the SEKAI."

He feels a bit scolded.

"Ahh, sorry," he apologizes, murmuring. "With committee meetings and tests before the break, I haven't managed to stop in."

"Hm? I didn't mean it in a bad way," MEIKO ruminates, holding her chin. "I guessed you might've been busy and only wondered if between it all you were getting enough rest. Luka's been sleeping for three days straight and hasn't woken up yet."

"What?" Tsukasa straightens off his arms entirely. "Is she alright?"

Miku dangles backwards off his hand before tumbling off it and landing beside MEIKO on the phone.

"She's alright, just super, suuuper sleepy! She's tucked around the plushies that have fallen asleep too."

"Even the plushies?"

Tsukasa remembers KAITO's comments on the plushies and flowers in the SEKAI.

Quiet and tired. With no clear cause.

And now Luka?

Was there an anomaly in the SEKAI?

A bigger problem lurking beneath it?

 Is there anything I can do...? 

"Tsukasa-kun?" MEIKO questions.

She gazes at him, eyes rich brown and knowingly astute.

"What do you think about going back to bed? It's your break, right? It should be fine."

Bed?

He hadn't considered it.

He hadn't considered much of anything, truthfully, since waking.

But no. Bed was the last thing he wanted; he was sure of it.

In fact, there were the presents he bought for his family that had been stowed but left unwrapped.

If Saki was still in bed, or if she'd left and gone out somewhere, wouldn't now be the perfect time to sit down and accomplish it?

"Bed can wait for the night," he tells MEIKO, leaning away from the counter. "There are great gifts to wrap after all! You're more than welcome to watch."

MEIKO hums and hums and hums.

"I would. I'd like to see what you bought. However, there's some recruitment I need to do with Rin-chan and KAITO. There's a Christmas show we were thinking of holding on the eve of the holiday. We'd like everyone there, but with Luka and majority of our most enthusiastic plushies out, we'll have to search the other stages in the wonderland for more members."

Oh yeah.

The SEKAI had existed for months now, but even Tsukasa hadn't ventured deep enough into the vast park of wonders to see all the other attractions and stages beyond.

"Rin's a good choice," he notes aloud. "She holds a lot of her own shows on those stages, doesn't she?"

"Mm, she does," MEIKO confirms. "So then I'll get going. But Tsukasa-kun, a nap never hurt anyone."

He withholds a sigh and smiles.

"I understand. Don't worry. If there's nothing else to do later, I'll lie back down."

"Alright."

She vanishes.

Miku swings her leg as she stands, eyes shining, arms clasped behind her back.

"Tsukasa-kun, I'll stay and watch. I want to see all the sparkling paper and shiny tools you'll use!"

"I don't know about shiny tools," he apologetically starts, eyes warm with their own brand of fondness, "but I did buy the brightest, finest, golden paper there is."

"Waaaaa~ Show me then?"

"Of course!"

Energy renewed, spirit invigorated by Miku's own enthusiastic response, he beams broadly and goes back to his room.

His laptop is turned on.

The gifts are pulled out from under the bed as he crawls over.His drawers are flung open.

Spools of ribbon, glimmering red and green and blue and gold and white paper unveiled and triumphantly laid out across the floor.

A movie is put on. An old-school musical.

It fills the room with sounds of dramatic flair, tensions and excitable cheer.

"Perfect for the season, isn't it Miku?!"

"That's right~!"

He settles cross-legged before his supplies and gifts and snatches up the scissors.

"Then, let us begin!" 

~x~

Eventually Len joins.

It nears one in the afternoon.

"I wasn't very good at recruiting the plushies. Rin sent me off," Len laments.

Paper is measured, ribbons appropriately selected with the help and opinions of Miku and their latest addition; gifts wrapped without blemish, not a crease or unpleasant fold in sight.

Perfect.

As it should be.

As his parents and Saki deserved.

This Christmas will be the best we've ever had. 

It nears one in the afternoon.

He carefully re-stows the presents beneath his bed, out of sight, then goes back to his computer and lies on his side, somewhat haphazardly in a sprawl, to watch what's now randomly playing.

Saki hadn't so much as made a peep, let alone emerged from her room.

At this point, if she was home, there would have been something. 

No matter.

The movie on Youtube is some bizarre pirate fantasy, complicated with tragedy.

Flashy.

Orchestra loud. 

I'm sure Saki will end up texting her whereabouts eventually, if she's not having too much fun with her friends again. 

But wouldn't she have mentioned it in a note or text? He could count on one hand that amount of times Saki had disappeared without assuring him of where she'd gone.

Only twice.

When she was struggling with Ichika and the others the most.

There's a fight scene between two crews of pirates on screen.

Betrayal at the plank.

Rescue.

Reunion.

Near-drowning.

A love confession.

It happens in fifteen minutes.

He stares.

What was the plot?

He wonders if he should get up and knock on Saki's door.

He wonders if he should shoot her a text or call.

If she's alright.

She would be mad if he woke her from her sleep.

But it'd be nice to start building their tree - now that he thinks about it - and decorate it as a surprise before their parents came home tomorrow.

Miku and Len, knees drawn, sitting side-by-side, hum and hold their chins and study the confusing mess of a movie before them.

A bag of water chestnuts is pulled out by a desperate pirate.

Tsukasa gets distracted for a second as a mighty kraken is stopped from wiping out a fleet; as Len and Miku question him about it - as he questions it himself.

They're in the middle of a deep discussion on its validity when a hesitant knock comes at his door.

He lurches.

"...Onii-chan? Are you on a call with someone?"

Len and Miku vanish in an instant.

Tsukasa fumbles with his phone and sits up. "S-Saki?"

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah, it's fine, I - "

His door opens.

His younger sister stands there, porcelain plate dressed in ranch, accompanied by celery and baby carrots, in hand.

She's comfortably dressed.

Like she hadn't left the house at all.

For a moment, they stare at one another.

"Onii-chan, who were you talking to?"

"N- No one. Some friends," he covers with a hasty chuckle. He pauses. "...I thought you weren't home."

Now it's Saki's turn to look off guard.

She coughs lightly, brightly; shakes her head and wanders further into his room, secretive sheepishness on her face.

"I was just hanging out with Ich-chan and the others. Online! A video call."

"I couldn't hear you at all."

"I was wearing headphones."

Her socks pad on the floor.

She changes the subject quickly and stops before him, thrusting out the plate.

"Here. Eat. It's not much, but if you're feeling sick lighter foods are better, right?"

"Huh?" He lifts his eyes from the plate to look at her. "I'm not sick. Where did you hear that?"

"Emu-chan messaged me yesterday, you know. She said to make sure you were feeling okay."

"Why would she do that?" Tsukasa frowns, shifting on his knees to face her.

Saki frowns back.

Her eyes go from him to his computer still playing sounds of fanfare and battle, to the collection of leftover ribbon, glitter and paper on the ground.

For some reason, her expression turns upset.

"...Onii-chan, you're not serious are you?"

He glances at the mess around him too - and shifts back a little to start cleaning up.

"I didn't get a chance to clean up yet."

"That's not - "

Saki stops.

She shakes her head.

She holds out the plate more insistently in his direction.

"Nevermind. This is for you, so stop working for a minute and have it. Did you drink what I made you last night?"

He stands, hands stained with glitter, fingers wrapped in ribbon. "Sorry, I didn't get the chance."

"Why not?"

"I fell asleep."

He doesn't tell her he didn't really want it.

He goes to his drawers, feeling his sister's eyes on his back.

"Anyway, what were your plans for today? I was thinking we could start putting the tree together before father and mother came home. If I remember, we put all the ornaments in the downstairs closet. Let me finish cleaning in here and then we can - "

"I don't want to."

Saki says it loudly.

So loudly, he jumps.

He drops what he carries in his drawer and quickly turns around.

"Saki?"

She clutches the plate of healthy snacks she'd brought for him between her two hands.

"I don't want to," she repeats. "I want you to eat."

Was that all?

"I can't eat if I'm not hungry," he tells her, reasonably.

"But why aren't you?"

"That's - " His brows furrow. "How am I supposed to answer that? I'm not. There's not much else to say about it."

"Touya-kun texted me yesterday too. He called this morning because you wouldn't answer on your own phone."

What?

Had Touya called him?

He hadn't checked his phone for messages or missed calls now that he thinks about it.

His eyes fall down to his cell by his computer as Saki goes on.

"You slept in today, didn't you? You've only done that when you don't feel okay. I had to get you from in front the thermostat. You were sleepwalking and turned the air condition on. I had to shut it off. But you don't remember any of that, do you?"

Tsukasa looks at her.

No, he didn't.

"I never sleepwalk."

"You do," says Saki.

Her shoulders folds along her expression, mouth trembling, bending down and down.

"When I was sick and here at home, you did it all the time too, checking on me; trying to bring me stuffed toys and food in the middle of the night. Mother and father always took you back to bed, but you never ever remembered the next day. Our parents chose not to tell you because they thought it would only make you try and consciously take care of me more."

He doesn't know what to say to that.

He had remembered falling into fitful sleep worried for Saki when they were younger, but waking comfortably tucked in bed with Saki safely in her room with their parents the next day.

Not once had they mentioned...

"Sorry," he says, though he's not too sure why. "I didn't mean to make you worry, if that's what this is about. I'll call Touya too and reassure him."

"Of what?" says Saki.

"My health," says Tsukasa. "Everyone seems to be misunderstanding. Want to wait downstairs? I'll talk to Touya first then get the supplies from the closet for the tree."

Saki looks at him - and looks at him - and tears well in her eyes and she spins on her heels and furiously heads for his door.

"The only one misunderstanding is you, you big dummy! What's wrong with you?"

"Saki!" he steps after her, in a baffled panic.

She stops at the door.

She doesn't turn back.

She tells him:

"This is... supposed to be a great Christmas. Our parents will be home together. I'll be here with you too." 

But you're ruining it. 

She doesn't say it aloud.

Tsukasa hears it anyway.

"I won't build the tree today. I'll make you better food, so stay here and I'll bring it up."

"You shouldn't waste your time," Tsukasa tries telling her again, honestly. "I won't eat it."

She opens the door.

She steps outside.

She closes it and walks away - without another word.

He looks at his closed door for a length of time, silence in his ears; silence in the air.

He stands for a moment.

And for a moment longer still.

Then he goes to gather the rest of the scattered Christmas-wrapping supplies on the floor to clean it up, feeling a bit empty; a bit hollow; uneasiness in his throat; heart in his ears.

He didn't understand.

He hadn't done anything wrong.

Somehow - would he be the one to ruin this Christmas too? 

~x~

He calls Touya.

Touya doesn't respond.

He might've been with Akito.

Tsukasa sends a text, then sits on the edge of his bed - at a loss.

Sounds fill the kitchen.

The fridge opened.

A pan set on the stove.

After minutes of listening, hearing nothing but the footsteps of his sister's socks padding across the floor - he rises - and goes to his railing, looking over, bereaved.

She doesn't notice him.

She frowns at her phone, then frowns at a recipe on the back of a box.

Is that the sort of expression anyone should have at such a special time of the year? 

No.

It wouldn't do.

"Saki," he calls softly.

Her head snaps up quickly.

He offers a small smile; a peace offering.

"I'm going out," he says. "Don't worry about it."

She gazes up across the distance between them, as if not comprehending his words at first.

When she blinks, it's slow.

When she opens her mouth, nothing comes out.

Tsukasa withdraws.

A coat is retrieved.

Phone pocketed.

He ventures out his room and down the stairs, looking at Saki who hadn't moved from behind the kitchen counter.

"Do you need anything from the store?" he asks.

She puts down the box she'd been holding.

She goes to the living room.

To the couch.

She sits in its corner, back to him, saying nothing.

Tsukasa's face falls.

"...Saki..."

"Get what you want," she says, voice dissonant. "I'm staying home today, so I can wait. We can... put the tree together like you wanted."

"...Are you mad at me?"

"No."

Oddly enough, she doesn't sound like she is.

Tsukasa isn't convinced regardless.

"Alright," he says, voice faint. "I'll be back."

The house is silent as he walks to the door.

It's silent as he leaves.

It's silent outside, sprawled in an endless, still scape of white.

He wonders why it feels like he's failed something important. 

There is no sound when snow falls.

In its element, left alone, it simply spins dismally down.

He sits on a wooden bench in a park a thirty minute walk away.

Trees line the winding asphalt paths, frozen over.

A jungle gym sits in a cluster of trees, frozen over.

There's no one else around, aside from couples and a few joggers, pacing themselves, breath curling in and out.

He hadn't left the house to go to the store.

He had left the house to leave it.

To remove himself from the scene.

There was no point in fighting or maybe Saki uncomfortable.

He'd figure himself out first and go back afterwards.

Whatever there was to figure to out.

He hunches forward, fists stuffed in coat pockets, eyes on the ground, grimacing.

Somehow the extra layer of padded coat wasn't enough.

It was freezing.

He closes his eyes.

Inhales bitter air.

Feels the weight from home grow heavier from farther away.

Sleepwalking.

 Is that really something I do?

He lists a bit sideways, mind drifting, cold burning at his ears.

A bed and cloud-filled dreams.

That's where Miku and MEIKO had told him to go.

Or was it that he had already been there and was supposed to return?

"Tsukasa-kun?"

The voice is soft.

The hand on the side of his face, softer.

And warm.

He leans into it, tired, before cracking his eyes open and lifting his bent head.

A very familiar person crouches down in front of him, bundled dark and warm, anomalous vivid blue scarf and green earmuffs on.

Tsukasa almost thinks its some sort of hallucination with how quiet Rui is.

There's a look on concentration in his eyes; mouth pressed thin.

His hand leaves Tsukasa's face.

Tsukasa snatches a hold of it, frowning deeply.

"What are you doing here?" he questions, voice without antic or fanfare.

Rui looks at their hands.

He brings his eyes to Tsukasa's after.

"I was on a walk."

"By yourself?"

"Is that strange?"

No it wasn't strange. But there was something about it.

Something Tsukasa couldn't place that bothered him.

He lets go of Rui's hand.

Rui's hand goes to his knee and settles.

The heat is a comforting one burning through his clothes.

"I guess it's not strange," Tsukasa admits aloud. "I just didn't expect to run into you."

"That makes two of us. I was with Nene and Mizuki not too long ago. We were testing out her new algorithms on the frozen lake on the other side of the city. The ice could maintain her weight and she could spin and perform clean pirouette's without trouble. Afterwards I adjusted her auto-kill function to enable safer snowball combat. Emu-kun mentioned while we were packing the stage yesterday that you'd been hit surprisingly hard."

Tsukasa's expression flattens.

"Sorry. Did you say auto-kill. Why was that a function to begin with. Why are you saying 'combat'. It's a snowball fight. What are you trying to turn Nene-Robo into? Why do I feel like Nene-Robo has an auto-kill function specifically for me?"

Rui chuckles.

He shakes Tsukasa's knee a little, fondly, before resting back more comfortably on his heels.

"If she does, it's because she likes you."

"You created her AI," Tsukasa scowls. "Don't pretend you have nothing to do with it."

Rui chuckles a second time, lighter, and pushes to his feet.

He reaches down and grabs a hold of Tsukasa's hands, pulling him up as well.

"Oya, oya. Tsukasa-kun, your hands are freezing. Weren't you getting on Nene and Emu-kun's case for dressing inappropriately not too long ago?"

"I'm wearing a coat," Tsukasa tells him.

"Yes, and it's not zipped up."

Rui does it for him.

Pulling the collar up and over Tsukasa's mouth, messing with him on purpose.

They fuss over it for a few seconds before Tsukasa manages to bat his hands away and give himself a foot of distance.

Rui hooks his arm through Tsukasa's elbow, nonetheless, and hauls him to his side, mirthfully, keeping his near.

They walk, in no particular direction, away from the bench and the paths of the park, through drifts and uneven snow.

"Where did Nene and Akiyama end up?" Tsukasa questions.

Rui hums, eyes ahead.

"Nene took Robo-Nene before I could try installing data for hockey, so that was unfortunate. I believe she went to the music store after. Mizuki either went home or went to find Shinonome-kun."

"Akito?"

"Mm. I believe they were helping him with a matter involving Aoyagi-kun."

"Is that right..?" Tsukasa's eyes drift to their feet, trekking over white.

He wondered if it was anything at all similar to what Tsukasa had spoken to Touya about the night before.

He feels Rui's gaze on him and shifts his own over and up to meet the set of curious golden eyes resting on his no-doubt red and blistered cheeks and nose.

"Something on your mind?" Rui asks.

"No," Tsukasa answers. "It should be fine."

Rui's lips curl, not unlike a cat, bemused.

"If Tsukasa-kun says so."

Tsukasa makes a face at him; a raw itch poking at the back of his throat. "I do say so. What about it?"

"Nothing. Aoyagi-kun has a reliable senpai is all."

Rui stops walking, lightly, causing Tsukasa to pause beside him as well.

"However, I'd like you to come somewhere with me if you don't mind. Do you have the time?"

Tsukasa thinks about Saki.

He thinks about the problem between them; the miscommunication, he hasn't solved.

Maybe he could ask Rui's opinion.

He depended and trusted and relied on him as much as he did with KAITO.

And Rui often knew better what was best.

He nods.

"Where did you want to go?"

Rui's expression softens with his smile. 

The familiar attractions of their SEKAI had blinded Tsukasa for a solid ten seconds before he had managed to blink away the dark spots and reorient himself.

Rui had gone, without waiting, in the direction of their main stage, nestled in a cozy corner, by merry-go-round and unmanned cotton candy and toy stands.

Tsukasa had hurried after him, tripping over his feet and consequently Rui's heels - only to have Rui smirk a teasing smirk without words - and they had bypassed the stage, and wandered, surrounded by carnival music, running rollercoasters and the circuiting train flying overhead, for a time.

"Rui," says Tsukasa when thirty minutes have passed. "Why did you want to come here?"

"Is there a better place than the wonderland of your creation?"

"It's not really mine now, you know. It's all of ours."

"Though your feelings speak the loudest."

"Is that an insult. Are you insulting me."

Rui continues walking a few paces ahead. "Perish the thought, Tsukasa-kun. Do you think I think so poorly of you?"

He's teasing - but Tsukasa doesn't answer. Not right away.

"Who knows," he jokes back when he does. 

Of course Rui doesn't.

He wouldn't have forgiven him or continued to put on shows in the troupe if he did.

And he certainly wouldn't spend his free time on winter break for the both of them choosing to spend it at Tsukasa's side.

Director and actor, yes.

But Rui - for all their differences - had become vital to Tsukasa, in a way no one else had.

His bond with his family; with Touya and Saki, was different.

This was a friendship.

They stood on equal ground with nothing that bound them together aside from their passions and drives.

Although Tsukasa had been thinking for a while now such a base friendship wasn't enough.

There was much about Rui he had yet to figure out.

That he still wanted to know.

He gazes at Rui as his tall friend stops walking alongside a curved railing leading to a field full of vibrantly, glowing flowers beyond.

And Rui's gaze lingers, expression becoming thoughtful, if not distant for a prolonged minute or two.

In that minute, Tsukasa moves up beside him, frowning out at the field of flowers.

They were whispering, brushing, shifting, in an unseen, unchanging wind, caressed by gentle hands of breeze.

But something was wrong.

As vividly as their color stood out - their singing had stopped.

"Rui - "

"A flower doesn't need to blossom all over the world to be seen and loved. It only needs bloom."

Rui's faraway gaze returns.

His attention falls on Tsukasa.

"There's a book I found Aoyagi-kun reading in the school library a few days before break started. He had borrowed it from the bookstore, but was kind enough to lend it to me for a day when I asked. It was quite a profound read."

"Oh -"

Tsukasa startles a bit, recalling with clarity the exact book Touya had been in possession of at the mall.

Rui watches his reaction.

"...Has Tsukasa-kun read it himself?"

"No. Though I told Touya I should."

"You might like it," Rui says. He turns slightly back towards the flower field. "KAITO-san asked for my opinion last night. The flowers here. They're so quiet you can barely hear them - though they still sing that same meaningful song."

"Not that I remember why it was so meaningful in the first place," Tsukasa frowns. "I wish I knew why it had such an influence on me."

"Because it brought you joy."

Tsukasa looks at Rui.

Rui doesn't look back.

"A song of warmth and happiness and overwhelming love. These are the traits of Tsukasa-kun as well. KAITO-san wondered if the change in them was related to you yourself. Your worries. Your fears. Your doubts. Your well-being. I didn't have an answer for him then. I believe I have one for him now."

Tsukasa frowns more.

"I don't understand."

Rui faces him.

Snow.

Frigid wind.

The SEKAI is gone.

The song stopped.

Their feet sink in the white drifts of the quiet park.

Rui speaks.

Tsukasa blinks.

"......What?"

Rui's gaze is full of emotion, heartfelt and sincere.

Knowing.

He says it again.

And in Tsukasa's silence - he questions more.

Eyes shadowed, face impassive.

His smile is benevolent.

Graceful.

Kind.

"...Tsukasa-kun. Am I wrong?" 

Chapter Text

The lights won't turn on.

At the age of ten, Tsukasa crawls out from under the bristling pines of the faux tree his father had helped him put together before he had left.

Away from the outlet in the wall, bare knees pulling the crimson red carpet on the wooden floor, Tsukasa rests on his heels, sitting up and frowning, deeply dissatisfied. 

Two joined halves of a plug is in his hand, the switch further along its wire in his other.

Colorful rainbow lights above shiny, gold garland on the decorated tree in front of him sit dull; glass bulbs painted -  but empty.

The rest of the power in the house was working.

Tsukasa had made sure to turn every light on to chase away the shadows of the halls and corners.

So why -

He looks down at the string of lights in his small hands.

Were they broken? He didn't know how to fix them.

If his mother was here, she might've -

He stops that train of thought.

He shakes his head.

He lets the lights go; lets them drop to the carpet and pushes to his feet.

His knees ache.

He feels warm.

He had felt warm before his parents had left for the hospital, but he hadn't told them.

There was someone more important at the time, who was waiting for them - who had been waiting for them - for hours and hours and more than a day.

Saki had just had a surgery.

Tsukasa had wanted to go too but his parents had made the decision for him to stay home. 

"It was a big surgery," his mother had reminded him, gently, crouching before him, adjusting his shirt, stroking his hair, features fallen, but bravely warm. "Saki might not be - I'm sure your little sister will be very tired. It's... likely she won't be able to enjoy your show."

Tsukasa, who had packed a bag of stuffed toys and crumpled pages of a script he had spent the previous night creating, thinking very hard, had glanced from his mother to his father in the open door as the cold of winter had blown in, night darkening. 

"But I worked really hard. I thought of all her favorite things. I even added magic. She'll like it - can't I come with you?" 

"Sorry, Tsukasa." His mother had whispered, thumb stroking his cheek. "Not this time, alright?" 

They had gone.

So Tsukasa had remained.

He had finished nearly everything like they had planned to do as a family before Saki had gotten frighteningly ill two weeks before.

The tree put together.

A holiday movie put on the living room TV, volume loud enough to fill the silence in the air; the one with the kid left alone, chasing off robbers with gimmicks and genius and tricks. 

A phonograph - his mother's - plays a song on repeat on a shelf above the noise of the movie.

On the living room table next to him - rests a plate of cookies.

A pitcher of milk beside it.

Dough baked and shaped like presents, trees and reindeer and people.

The cookie supplies had been bought by his father for the whole family to sit and enjoy and make, but Tsukasa had decorated them himself.

Icing that made crooked smiles, wide grins, scarfs and hats and coats with dots of blush on their cheeks in a multitude of carefully chosen colors of winter: blue and white and red and green with extra accents.

Accents - he had learned the word and meaning while watching tutorials on the web on how to sew designs into clothes.

Pink for himself. Gold for Saki.

Orange for their parents.

The lines on the cookies were maybe too squiggly. Thinner in some places more than others. But it was a tall stack of cookies. Enough to feed a family of four with leftovers into the new year.

New Year's was much more important in its celebration; in the ritual of their country. They celebrated it properly.

Even so, Tsukasa had watched a lot of foreign movies with Saki at his side.

"That's how they celebrate?" their father had said, echoing Tsukasa and Saki's questioning of it when they were younger, a few years before. "Can we do that too? Is what you two asked." 

Their parents had agreed.

The tradition had stuck.

But still - they hadn't yet ever managed to celebrate it properly once - as they thought they would.

And Tsukasa had come to know there was no such thing as Santa - but two parents who traveled and worked and worried and did their best, and a sister who smiled and laughed and cried in pain in a bed hundreds of miles away from home despite wishing with all her might for the holidays her gift might be to have good health.

He clenches his tiny fists at the thought.

A blizzard howls outside.

Yet even with all the noise of the TV, of the disc on the phonograph, playing a merry, cheery tune - the inside of the house felt quiet.

He hadn't put the star on the tree.

He had tried to - once - before stopping himself.

It was something that should be done when his whole family was home.

Same with the lights, now that he thinks about it.

What good was it to do it himself?

He would wait.

He could wait.

"It's fine," he says aloud, standing there in the cluttered living room, alone in shorts and a small jacket and a tee.

He hadn't changed out of his day clothes into his pajamas.

A part of him had been thinking his mother or father would return home to bring him to Saki anyway, changing their mind.

The song on a loop.

Beginning.

Ending.

Beginning and ending again.

It sinks into Tsukasa's head.

It sits.

It crawls.

The phonograph plays on.

The yellow and orange glow overhead of the house lights are uncomfortably, uncomfortably bright.

Fear. 

It slithers into him small.

It doesn't abate.

With every passing minute it grows bigger and stronger than before.

His eyes go to the phone given to him that he's left on the cushions of the couch.

His parents had called him two hours ago.

He wants them to call again.

He won't call himself.

He'd be bothering them.

If everything was alright with Saki, they surely would've called him a second time themselves to let him know. Like they always did.

So why weren't they?

Tsukasa opens his mouth.

He breathes in, eyes roaming over the house; the living room; the TV, the tree; the record player - with a breath that shakes.

So he shakes his head.

So he says aloud:

"I'm not sad. I'm not scared. There are tons more scary things out there. Saki is alone. Mother and father are frightened for her. I have a whole big house to myself. I have all the food we were going to eat together. This great music. This tree. I can stay up as late as I want. What is there to be sad at?" he scolds himself, upset. "What is there to be afraid of? They'll come home. Everyone will come home. And we'll be happy."

He brings an arm to his face.

He covers his eyes.

He grits his teeth and scrubs the tears back in his eyes.

"There's nothing - it's nothing - " 

There's nothing here. 

Why is this happening again?

"I'm -" 

"Tsukasa-kun, do you fear being left alone?"

Tsukasa jolts, memory torn away.

Rui gazes at him through the softly falling snow.

"...What?" says Tsukasa.

Rui speaks, lightly, as if they had never been in the SEKAI; as if their playing song had never been stopped.

Like the had been standing together in the park after a walk all along. 

"...The wonderland you created. The SEKAI born from your feelings. For the longest time I've wondered why it is the way it is. Why do the plushies speak? Why do the animals dance? It occupies my thoughts even when I'm home at rest," Rui tells him. "So much of it appears to be a magnificent playground where music, fun and sound never ends. KAITO-san brought it up in conversation how interesting it was that an entire SEKAI was born from your heart alone. From that, I gathered, it's not a common occurrence."

He looks at Tsukasa, unrelenting.

"Indeed the world of SEKAI, of Hatsune Miku, who hears and holds and carries out the hearts of those who yearn to be heard - is no common occurrence at all. KAITO-san didn't need to elaborate. I felt it was unnecessary at the time. Because it's been bothering me all the while in the weeks leading up to our break and holiday."

Why? 

Tsukasa doesn't ask it aloud.

His voice won't come for it.

It feels weak inside him regardless.

There's pity in Rui's eyes.

Pity.

Sympathy.

Or is it empathy?

He gazes upon Tsukasa with that infuriatingly knowing and kindly smile. Features creased. As if it pains him to poke at Tsukasa with ridiculous assumptions and misconceptions. 

Why would it? 

"Our SEKAI - your SEKAI - has been so quiet lately. This Christmas your father and mother and Saki-kun will be at home. Everyone will be together. But a part of you is still afraid. What if something goes wrong? That hidden feeling. Celebration with everything you have. That outward feeling."

Tsukasa's voice leaves him.

Quiet in its bewilderment.

"Why are you saying this?"

Rui only holds his small smile, with eyes that warmly grieve.

"...Tsukasa-kun. Am I wrong?"

He's astoundingly wrong.

Tsukasa looks at him.

And looks at him for a significant length of time in the silence of the snow that falls in between.

"...Rui. You don't ever spend the holidays alone, do you?"

It's a presumption, but one he feels, innately, is correct.

Sure enough Rui's head bends in consideration as he acknowledges the truth.

"No. Since I was little, my parents have always made sure to be around on those days, even if work tends to keep them away on other occasions. Nene's family as well. More often than not, we'll bring food and gifts to one another's houses and celebrate together."

"You'll do that this year too."

"Yes." Rui's eyes regard him carefully. "Why do you ask, Tsukasa-kun?"

Because he keeps looking at Tsukasa with that pity - pity that speaks volumes - of someone unable to relate to it themselves.

Someone who feels sorry.

Rather than understanding.

Who looks for answers.

That day, before their break began.

That sight, of Rui alone in the vast expanse of white in their school's courtyard, silence and snow around him; benches gray and stone; building still and steel. The only life a mechanical creation born from his own tinkering hands.

Back then, on the day, Tsukasa had felt a loneliness.

But now, standing before Rui, he wonders who it was for.

There's not a lot he knows about Rui, is there?

After all, Rui was a very kind, kind person, full of caring and caution and love.

Surely he'd been looked after in a household enveloped with equal nurturing care and affection.

His friend.

Misunderstood by strangers and peers alike - yet freedom and expression brimming vivaciously beneath the docile, calculative demeanor of outer self.

It was a marvel how similar they were; how different they were.

Head and tail of the same coin, flipped by the same hand.

For as boisterous and full of life he and his family and Saki were, behind it, in the history of it, were two fretful, anxious parents, and two siblings who lied to one another earnestly - swearing what they felt wasn't loneliness or its cold.

No.

What could Rui understand about Tsukasa?

About family and home?

Everything, a voice notes calmly in his head.

Because, somehow, nonsensically, Rui did. Though their experiences weren't the same.

Rui knew him.

And Tsukasa didn't know him.

"Tsukasa-kun."

Tsukasa, who had been silent for too long, stays silent.

Cold.

His skin burns harsh in the brushing winds of small hail and snow.

Or is the inside of him burning with shame and feelings of incompetence?

"Tsukasa-kun," Rui repeats, kinder; seeing through his silence.

Annoying.

"...With your sister being sick so often, I imagine these special holidays were ones you weren't able to spend together growing up. Were you the sort to keep yourself busy in response?"

Tsukasa finally speaks.

Muted.

Bothered.

"It's not like that. Saki might have been sick, but we visited her when we could, as much as we could, together as a family. We did our best so that she'd never spend those special days alone. If I kept busy, it was to cheer her up, or help our parents out. There's nothing more to it."

"I understand. However - that wasn't my question."

"Then what was it?"

"I was asking about Tsukasa-kun."

"He answered."

"He answered about his sister."

Rui's gaze sits on him steady.

Tsukasa's eyes sit on him, steadier.

"The holidays in our past were well-spent. Even if there was sometimes distance between us, our parents, Saki - everyone did their best. Habits like that are hard to break, you know. There's nothing wrong with keeping busy. It's Christmas. Isn't helping others out selflessly what the spirit of it, and life in general, is all about?"

"I wonder."

And Rui tilts his head, frowning without frowning, bringing hand to chin as his eyes crinkle with a smile.

"Helping others selflessly. It's not wrong."

"No, it's not," Tsukasa sets in stone.

"I didn't mean to make you upset."

"I'm not upset. I just don't want you to get the wrong idea."

"If I called you a liar, would you grow upset then?"

Tsukasa startles, taken aback. "...Come again?"

Rui smiles more behind his hand, and although it looks amused, there isn't an ounce of humor in his tone.

"If I said you must've felt lonely; that I feel regret for you, and even feelings of 'sorry', would you be upset with me then? If I told you there's no meaning in helping others if you can't learn to help yourself first?"

Tsukasa hears the words, but doesn't quite process them as they come.

He answers, on autopilot, something stirring in his chest, curdling in his chilling blood.

"Of course I'd be upset," is what he says. "Since there's no reason for you to feel that way, for a situation you've misunderstood wrong."

"Then I won't say it," Rui says, as if he hadn't already gone and said it.

"Well good," Tsukasa says back, as if he hadn't heard.

They gaze at one another. 

Tsukasa turns, boots shifting in the snow, wind howling in his ears, snowflakes clumping lashes, sticking on shoulders, zipper and coat sleeves, ready to leave.

The meeting with Rui had been impromptu anyway.

He could go somewhere else.

Anywhere else.

He doesn't expect the hand around his elbow that halts him in place.

He furrows his brow and looks over his shoulder.

"Rui, what - "

"Back then at school," Rui says, gazing down at him, grip on Tsukasa tightening marginally, "there were words I wanted to tell you. Will you listen to them now?"

Tsukasa faces him fully.

Rui doesn't release his hold.

"Do I have a choice?" Tsukasa asks, tersely.

"You always have a choice. I just."

Rui hesitates.

He studies Tsukasa.

His grip falters.

He lets Tsukasa go, but doesn't move back.

Then he sighs, and brings a hand to the back of his neck, rubbing in mild defeat.

"...Never mind. Another time?" he murmurs, almost as if speaking aloud to himself.

His hand drops.

He reaches it out, fixing the collar of Tsukasa's coat like so many times before, before lifting it and fixing the wayward strands of Tsukasa's hair.

"Well. For now. It would be good for once, Tsukasa-kun, if you could take the hands that reach for you."

Careful and kind and warm.

Rui's fingers delicately rest beneath Tsukasa's chin, tilting it up as Tsukasa's breath fogs out of him, a tiny cloud of growing emotion.

Rui observes him, eyes cautious, full of turbulent emotion impossible to pick apart.

"The selfless care you give to others. Tsukasa-kun. Won't you allow yourself its comfort too?"

Tsukasa's hands lift.

They settle on Rui's chest.

They clench the lapels of his coat.

They shove him away.

Rui's taller. He barely moves.

It's Tsukasa who winds up stumbling back a foot, then two.

He takes a third step backwards in the aftermath, foot sinking in the snow, heart in his ears, shaking, burning, breathing fast and hard.

Rui frowns and swiftly steps towards him.

"Tsukasa-kun - "

His temper.

Tsukasa had promised himself not to lash out again recklessly against the ones he cares about.

"The SEKAI," says Tsukasa, breath folding out of his parted mouth, on a different train of thought - a much more important one. "The SEKAI was made so that I - so that everyone could shine. So everyone could enjoy themselves with a smile and have a good time."

Rui stops and stares at him.

Tsukasa stares back. "What?"

Rui looks at Tsukasa from the small distance in between them, expression a mirror of the day Tsukasa had nearly trampled over the flowers in the school yard Rui had been looking out for - before Rui had knocked him flat onto his back - away.

Not hatred.

Not dislike.

Unreadable.

"Selflessness and selfishness are separated by two letters alone. When I first met you, Tsukasa-kun, I truly believed you only cared about yourself. That our roles together would never go beyond an actor and his director. The SEKAI you claim was made for everyone - was it not first made for you? It was born before you met us. It was born from you, yourself."

His features, unchanged, tame.

His voice, rising, steadily.

"Who is 'everyone', Tsukasa-kun? Before you met us, who was it you were trying to make smile? Your parents? Your sister? Even if that were the case, they wouldn't know of its existence. Of your feelings that created it. Doesn't it stand to reason, then, that the one who needed cheering up the most; who needed an unending wonderland, was Tsukasa-kun?"

"Miku and KAITO appeared to remind me of the feelings I'd forgotten," Tsukasa responds, voice growing louder in return. "The purpose behind my dreams to stardom. For Saki. For my family. For others. To make them happy. It was never about me. I only convinced myself it was. That's the selfishness you saw."

Rui narrows his eyes, his mouth a thin line.

"Nene brought this up to me a few weeks ago in the SEKAI. How she and I were wrong."

Tsukasa narrows his eyes right back.

Rui goes on.

"A self-proclaimed star only capable of seeing a light shine down on himself. Yet how could that be? The SEKAI gives you away. Nene and I acknowledged your growth; that you had truly learned to see how shows could not be put on alone. Yet in a conversation with KAITO-san, he had told Nene that a part of you had known all along that no show of yours could be done alone. That it took the company of others. That's why the SEKAI possesses the multitude of stages that it does. That's why the plushies sing and dance and talk. Why the flowers bloom."

He grows insistent. Persistent.

"If we take away the wonderland; its dazzling lights, attractions and songs, what is there left but the you as a child sitting in the dark with stuffed animals and machinations to keep himself company?"

"Are you talking about yourself?"

It's incredibly mean.

Tsukasa doesn't care.

It stings.

The cold on his skin.

The cutting hail.

To his credit, Rui doesn't show an glimmer of hurt.

He merely tells Tsukasa, looking at him simply: "I don't want to fight with you."

It's like being poked with a sharp needle.

The hot air in his lungs is punched out; a deflation of built-up contempt and irritation gone.

That empty feeling again.

"...Rui," he says, thinking little, exhausted and defeated, from their back-and-forth; their stand-off; their argument. "I don't want to see you."

Rui's expression flickers.

"I don't want to talk to you, right now, I think. So - " Tsukasa takes a step to the side. "I'm leaving."

He turns his back and walks, snow to calf, slowed.

"Tsukasa."

The honorific is dropped.

Tsukasa pauses but doesn't look behind him again.

He can't, really.

He feels unsteady.

Feverish.

Faint.

Although he knows it's just from the unexpected confrontation and equally unexpected turn of conversation and events.

"What is it?" he mumbles.

"Let me walk home with you."

Tsukasa starts walking again, one foot in front of the other, shoulders hunching.

"No. I'd rather you didn't."

"Tsukasa-kun, you really aren't well."

It makes Tsukasa stop again.

He looks over his shoulder, nose scrunching, features bunching, discontent.

Rui is a doubling visage, outlined in hazy separating and rejoining color, wobbling.

"I'm fantastic," Tsukasa says to him. "See you in the new year, Rui. Get home safe."

He departs for good then, footsteps crunching, trudging heavy in the snow.

And he doesn't hear a second pair follow after. 

He's made it to a corner road in the middle of the city.

Away from Rui.

Away from home.

A distance from Kamiyama High.

The roads around their school have always been graciously walkable, with tree-lined streets, open fields for soccer, a track and bleachers, window-stores and alleys and crisscrossing telephone poles.

He doesn't know where to go.

For the first time in a while, he's at a loss, with no clear sense of direction. With no one to seek out.

He doesn't know for how long he wanders for.

He guesses at one point it must have passed an hour.

The sky isn't as bright - dulled by clouds and snow as it already was.

He passes a store full of monitors for sale on display, of different definitions and sizes; commercials ending - an idol group appearing and dancing with Christmas cheer.

They're wearing red and green, reindeer antlers and painted whiskers and noses.

Their stage - faux snow, sleds and garland.

He thinks of Shizuku.

Minori.

"After she reaches the top..." 

...Wouldn't they still want to stay together? After chasing their dreams for so long as one - like Saki and Ichika and the others.

The dreams of WonderlandsxShowtime had never been the same.

Not truly.

Aside from the collective to 'make everyone smile'.

Ultimately they would separate.

They would venture out towards new dreams alone.

Tsukasa watches the performance on the monitors for a moment longer.

And a moment longer still - reflective in his eyes.

When the idols were finished, their stage would darken.

They would hurry off; the echoes of their vibrant song left behind.

Were the lights to dim in the SEKAI, wouldn't it be the same?

Luka who sleeps.

Plushies that tire.

Flowers that quiet.

A bout of light-headedness touches Tsukasa.

Slow-creeping exhaustion, gone in the presence of Rui, returned in their separation and fight.

His eyes fall half-lidded.

The idols on-screen dance and sing on and on.

That same melody, repeating again and again.

Like the phonograph at home in years past.

...Why was that song so important, I wonder. Its lyrics are nonsense.

His phone vibrates.

It rings.

He moves from the store and its monitors and music and lets it go unanswered.

The city is busy.

He walks.

He stops at lights.

He walks some more.

He frowns.

...He hadn't put the tree up with Saki for their parents.

He should... buy hot food and hurry home.

Apologize to Saki.

Get their broken tree and its pieces and its ornaments from their closet, put on holiday music; make the holiday a holiday - a home a home.

So they could greet their parents with genuine welcome and spirit.

Then they could spend the next few days leading up to the eve of Christmas cooking with their father his favorite recipes, watching their mother's favorite movies, playing Saki's favorite games, and his family in turn would put on old recorded stage plays of Tsukasa as a kid, as he pretended to be fearless, bold and brave, plastic sword in hand.

And they would all forget again the sort of person Tsukasa was before the lights and passion and drive to be the best for others and himself took shape of his being; of his life.

Someone clumsy.

Non-confrontational.

Who couldn't do things as well as the rest of the kids his age but tried his hardest anyway, and scribbled in his notebooks words of self-improvement, frustration, self-hatred and self-praise in equal parts, as he climbed the ladders of his self-growth, rung-by-rung, with effort and care.

Who had to climb faster and reach new heights when his little sister first collapsed.

Because - 

"I can't make them worry about me too!" 

...Succeed.

Succeed.

No matter the endeavor, he was someone who would succeed.

That was his duty.

There was only moving forward. There was only looking ahead.

When he had fallen with Saki's dolls; when he had fallen so many other times before - because the needs of the others were greater - he had risen and run again.

Red light.

Tsukasa's feet slow behind a throng of others who shuffle in place on the sidewalk, who listen to music and idly wait along with him for the green light on their side of the road to go.

He looks down.

Thinking.

Injury and exhaustion never mattered - until the necessary show had ended. Until his duties; responsible son and senpai and friend had been accomplished.

Until the love in him was spent.

And the love and care of Tsukasa Tenma, ever cautious, yet driven, spirit blazing bright, was never spent.

His parents were coming home tomorrow.

Saki was home now.

Christmas was three days away.

He had gifts to give.

There was no need for strife.

He was a better person than that.

I can be better.

He needed to check on Luka.

He needed to go into the SEKAI and see its problems for himself.

Only then could he solve them.

And - he wanted to talk to KAITO. To Miku.

Can you help me? he wants to ask.

He's not embarrassed to ask for help - not anymore.

He just doesn't know what he needs the help for.

Surely they'll know.

The people in front of him start to move at the edge of the crosswalk.

Tsukasa continues to look down.

The crowd is large.

The feet around him walk forward. He waits for the traffic of their bodies, bundled in coats and scarfs and hats, bags and backpacks, sneakers, dress-shoes, boots - covered in snow - to thin out. 

Rui, he thinks.

His features crumple, miserably.

Why do you always know more about me then anyone else?

It should have been Emu.

She was the first who reached out to him; who refused to let go.

She was the first to comfort him.

The first to share his excitement; who entertained his ideas as much as he inevitably wound of entertaining hers.

The first of the Wonder Stage.

The first he showed his tears to.

When did he stop seeking her out for ideas and nonsense comfort and start looking towards Rui instead?

The clutter of people in front of him dwindles.

Tsukasa stays where he is for several seconds longer, caught in distressed thought. 

Once, Emu had grabbed his hand in the middle of the street and eagerly ran and pulled him into a dance.

Nene had tried to hide behind the nearest bush.

Rui had chuckled and watched, gazing at the two of them caught in swing steps and spins as if regaling a marvelous sight.

Tsukasa had collapsed next to him in a booth later on, spent and harried and sour, scowling as Emu had gone with Nene to collect their food at the counter of the cafe they had dropped into.

"You could've helped."

"I could've." A coy smile. Devious mischief in golden eyes as Rui had grabbed Tsukasa's hand punching at his leg and laced their fingers together. "But Tsukasa-kun you were having such a good time. How could I take you away from that?"

"You're the worst. I know you were filming." He had bumped Rui with his shoulder, before slumping at his side, uttering, put-out. "Next time stop laughing and pull me away."

"Alright, alright. Since you asked so nicely."

"Just say 'alright' once."

Rui's smile had been annoyingly, annoyingly teasing and wide in response.

Tsukasa's scowl had grown. "What?" 

Rui's answer back then...

"Tsukasa-kun, has anyone ever told you - " 

"Hey, if you're gonna go, you should go," someone passing next to him says, shattering his recollection.

Another teen; one with a backpack.

Tsukasa lifts his head and tunes into his surroundings properly.

The signal at the busy light hasn't yet changed.

Still green. Still white.

Snow swirls.

The road on his side is clear.

An automated voice continues to tell those nearby to 'walk'.

A couple of kids race past him and cross the last frozen distance of sidewalk, onto the painted striped lines of the street, following after the teen who had given Tsukasa the heads-up. 

Tsukasa watches the kids go, catching up to that teen, crowding and pushing and laughing around him. 

Younger siblings and their big brother.

They seemed to cherish him a lot. 

Tsukasa deflates.

His shoulders fold.

He shoves his hands deep into his coat pockets, deeper than before, fingers unable to decide whether they were numb with warmth or cold - and steps out into the street to follow.

Rui. I really didn't want to fight with you.

This light was a long one, and the temperature was getting lower.

He didn't fancy missing his chance to go.

His phone rings again.

Halfway across the street, while hurrying, he absently pulls it out.

He glances down.

He blinks, startled.

Saki.

Six missed calls? What - 

A sharp pain zings through the upper right corner of his head.

Tsukasa flinches, steps stuttering, slapping a palm to it and clutching immediately, breath temporarily drawing short.

He halts.

His phone clatters from his hand to the fractured cement below.

His vision wanes.

"Oi!" someone shouts.

His head jerks up.

Agony follows the movement.

That teen from before and his younger siblings.

They're on the other side of the street, on the sidewalk, with a gaggle of other passerbys.

But that's not who had yelled to him so furiously.

Tsukasa walks dazedly forward, confused, vision blurring, knees threatening to give out under the sudden immense pressure in his head.

"Akito," he mumbles aloud, seeing his kouhai pushing past those blocking his way from sidewalk to road. "Why are you - "

The question doesn't finish.

Blaring horn and steel.

The car hits first. 

Broken glass and ice.

Red smears the white and gray.

An awful lot of noise.

He can hear the echoes of screeching tires, slamming doors and shrieks and shouts on endless play within his ears.

Rattling his mind, like his rattling lungs, and rattling body, for some reason on the ground; face to cloudy sky; wet seeping through every layer of his clothes deeply into skin; cold deeper into bone.

He wants to drown it out - the noise that swells louder into a cacophony of chaos.

Something pulls him.

Noises of pain escapes him feebly.

His back leaves the ground.

He wants to struggle.

An alarm inside of him tells him he should.

He has to.

He must.

Something is wrong.

He's dragged onto knees; a lap.

The sky is blocked out by a petrified, pale face.

Tsukasa doesn't understand.

The hands that hold him quake.

The eyes that look down at him are wide with fear; hazel green.

The dyed hair is unmistakable.

Strange.

His own hands, fumble, reaching.

"Akito," he says weakly, gripping a hold of his junior's clothes weaker.

Why are you here? Were you out shopping? How are you? 

The questions won't leave him.

His tongue is molasses thick in his mouth.

He can't swallow.

His body burns.

It's freezing cold and it burns, but the blood in him burns fiercer, spilling from his head, into his eye, curving down his chin, like tears to ground.

He'll die.

He'll die if he doesn't cool down.

He shakes and he doesn't stop. He trembles like a broken leaf in the dead of winter, torn from its branch by the forceful winds of fated end.

Panic in his throat.

It drags helplessness and tears and gear into his failing voice and dampening eyes.

He can't stand it.

He doesn't know what's going on.

"It's shock. Move," a person, a stranger - one of many intrusively nearby - orders, wound in a panic. "The ambulance - "

Akito doesn't move.

He talks, voice tight, unhidden frantic, terror in each word.

"Stay with me, senpai. You freakin' idiot. What were you doing stopping in the middle of the road?"

"Phone," Tsukasa mumbles.

Akito searches his face, brows lowered, mouth twisted, holding him tighter, leaning further down, blocking out the colors and spinning confusion of the rest of the world beyond.

Tsukasa's grateful for it.

He's grateful, but still - 

No good, Tsukasa thinks, listing from the boughs of consciousness.

His eyes dim.

He sees the collar of Akito's coat; the fractures of snow; frost flakes on his kouhai's neck, melting slow. 

White winter.

A Christmas tree wound in garland and ornaments, topped with a sparkling, golden star.

The carpet under the stand of faux pine is cherry red.

A fireplace crackles.

Tunes on a phonograph play.

But the lights he holds in his hands are limp and dull.

A child in a house alone.

The him who sat and waited, a ticking clock silent in his head, following the countdown of the holiday.

Tsukasa looks at that child - the visage of himself - sitting, knees drawn, by the front door.

He turns back around.

He looks down.

Older - but still the lights he holds in his hands are lackluster and limp.

Dull.

There are others in the house.

They gather around.

Laughter, smiles and cheer.

But still.

Yet still. 

Tsukasa's face creases.

Still, the lights won't turn on.

Why? 

On the ground; on Akito's lap, Tsukasa smiles, deprecatingly small.

It's delirium that cradles his mind.

It's a chill that settles over his shoulders, a comforting blanket of cold, as he burns and burns and melts in inescapable heat.

Gonna die, he thinks.

Saki.

And the SEKAI.

His smile falls.

Rebellion pinches his brows.

"Not gonna die," he mumbles, somewhat deliriously.

"You sure as hell aren't," he hears Akito snap.

And Akito looks up and at something in the distance, away from Tsukasa.

"Quit talkin'. There's help on the - "

"Touya," mumbles Tsukasa regardless, sweltering in the fogs that threaten to suffocate him out - breaking - breaking down.

He can't focus.

Sirens? 

Doesn't matter.

This is important.

This he knows.

"Don't tell Touya."

Akito looks back down at him, swiftly - mouth pressed so thin its white.

He doesn't respond.

Or maybe he does.

Tsukasa doesn't know for sure - because he's collapsing fully into the other boy's lap - on the verge of frustrated tears, spent - seeing things he wishes he wouldn't.

Saki weeps; at the age of eight, on the eve of Christmas, in that hospital; in a bed.

There is a wall and it separates them on that dim and dark night.

There is a father he runs past, out of reach.

There is a kouhai whose arms catch him; whose tongue bitingly scolds him and says he can't stand him - who forces him to stay anyway.

Who tells him to stay awake anyway.

Tsukasa stubbornly wants to.

Weakness drags him down.

Weakness tells him to stay down.

It tells him to sleep.

So he does.

It's enough.

He does. 

Chapter Text

Tangles, roots and vines.

A canopy of bending boughs in the breezy wind.

Leaves sift. Light filters through.

Sun and shadow cast themselves down on the bench below. 

Tsukasa sits comfortably, quietly, neatly, ankles crossed beneath the given space under the bench.

Slacks prim and straightened, ankle cuffs slightly rolled, sweater without a wrinkle, ironed - collar loose - sleeves folded to the elbow.

The stone of the bench is warm. 

The stone of the bench is cold.

He unfolds the blue handkerchief around his bento, unhurried, with nimble fingers and slow hands.

In the secluded corner of the school courtyard, flowers bloom from untrimmed hedges.

Yellow and pink and red. 

Thorns in its beauty. 

It's peaceful.

He's not alone. 

"Akito." 

His kouhai lies in the grass beside Tsukasa's spotless shoes, flat on his back, a foot crossed over a raised knee and arms tucked behind his head.

Uncaring of the dirt and blades of green mucking his uniform and hair.

Unbothered by the newly-formed creases in his shirt.

Hazel eyes open fro their meditative state of dozing and squint up at him, like a cat, disgruntled and annoyed. 

"...Somethin' you need, senpai?" 

He says it somewhat distastefully, dragging out the honorific, emphasis with obligatory respect. 

Tsukasa looks down at him, past the bento in his lap.

Melon and cheesecake and friend pork with a side of sliced ginger and rice.

Packed food he had prepared for himself the night before with enough consideration he'd likely be sharing for two.

"Not that I mind the company," Tsukasa begins, "but you've been making this too much of a habit lately. Shouldn't you spend some time with Touya? Or bring yourself proper food? He'll get worried if you keep vanishing during lunch, you know." 

Akito gazes up at him for a moment - and a moment more.

Then he closes an eye, the other staying slit, half-lidded.

"I'm not vanishin'. Touya knows where I am."

He rolls onto his side, away from Tsukasa, arm no longer under his neck, but half over his ear, as if it'll block Tsukasa out or otherwise make him magically disappear.

"Anyway, he's catchin' up on studyin'," he mutters. "I'm not needed for that." 

"You should study. Wouldn't it be bad if you failed your exams?"

"Do you want me to study or eat? Sorry, senpai, but I don't really want to hear a lecture from someone who was shouting off the roof the other day that he forgot to study for his test." 

"That's because I really did forget. It surprised me." 

"Then a lecture from you definitely isn't needed."

Akito's muttering drops to a mumble, on the breath of an irritated exhale.

"Can't you eat your lunch and let me sleep?"

Tsukasa keeps looking down at him.

"You haven't eaten." 

Akito's bent arm falls from his ear, to his side, knuckles in the grass. His eyes shift upwards, towards Tsukasa, less than pleased.

"I did."

Shadows of leaves across his cheek.

"You just didn't see me. I was here first, remember? You joined me." 

"I always sit here," Tsukasa responds. "You didn't start coming to my special spot until you saw how gloriously it was treasured by me first." 

Akito does a terrible job of hiding his scowl. "No, this was my nap spot first." 

Tsukasa brows bunch in disagreement. "You're mistaken. This was my luncheon spot first." 

"Just say lunch." 

"It's not a lunch." 

"You sure eat it like it is." 

"Hmph."

Tsukasa turns his nose up, puffing his chest out, indignant, though respectably, his voice stays even and calm.

"I don't expect you to understand the grace and elegance of fine dining. Lunch is a meal that should be enjoyed - revered - like in the times of kings and queens and jesters - " 

"Can't believe you're callin' yourself a clown." 

Tsukasa's head whips down, eyes that had closed in their stubbornness, snapping open.

"At what point did those words come out of my mouth - my cheesecake!" 

Akito, sitting up, cross-legged, finishes shoving the last of Tsukasa's cheesecake into his mouth, cheek puffed.

"Wow, this is really good," he commends, voice muffled, approval in every word. "What shop did you get it from this time?"

Tsukasa yelps in horror. "Akito! Did you even wash your hands?" 

Akito eyes the twin pieces of Tsukasa's melon next, completely unfazed. "Why are you scolding me for that and not for stealing?" 

Tsukasa ignores him, rummaging around in the pockets of his backpack next to him on the bench for the package of wet wipes he stowed on the daily.

When he finds them, he rips it open and slaps Akito's hands poking around the rest of his bento with harried-

"Stop that!"s and "Give me your hand!"

Fussing back-and-forth that ensues; more stressful than it should be.

But by the end of it, Tsukasa has somehow managed to get Akito sitting on the bench beside him.

Akito grumbles.

Tsukasa scrubs furiously at his underclassman's calloused and rough fingers stained with dirt. 

"Honestly - the amount of germs you live with," Tsukasa utters. 

"I'm not a kid." 

"Then wash your hands like an adult." 

"I'm not an adult either." 

"So you're just difficult." 

"The difficult one is you." 

Tsukasa releases Akito's captive hands, finished with his task.

Akito balls the used wet wipes and shoves them into his uniform's pockets.

Tsukasa holds back another scolding, knowing full well Akito would just take off. 

So they sit in a silence, sour and tense, until their temperaments settle.

The spring wind travels.

It brushes the branches above them and the leaves.

Shadows fickle on Akito's face again.

Shadows fickle on Tsukasa's too.

Tsukasa pulls two sets of disposable chopsticks tucked in the side of the bento in between him and his junior - and wordlessly passes it over.

It's taken without a 'thanks'.

The chopsticks are broken.

They eat.

Not a single conversation is had. 

Until fifteen minutes later, when Akito snatches the final piece of fried pork away as Tsukasa goes for it.

"Too slow," Akito smirks. 

Tsukasa looks at him, affronted - before eyebrows lower in dismal acceptance and grouchy complaint.

"You hate me, don't you? You enjoy my misery."

"Tsukasa-senpai, if I hated you, don't you think I wouldn't bother comin' around?"

Akito moves his chopsticks, pork and last-gathered rice and all, in front of Tsukasa's mouth.

"I can never sleep when you're around is all. Of course I'll take the opportunity to mess with you first if Touya's not around."

Tsukasa's heart swells, touched.

"...Akito! I knew you were a good junior!"

He pointedly ignores the blatant admission that his kouhai takes pleasure in making him suffer without Touya to reel him in. 

He gladly goes to eat.

Akito pulls his chopsticks back and puts the final bite of food in his own mouth.

"Just kidding. Thanks for the food."

"Akito!"

His underclassman rises, leaving the chopsticks, clapping dirt and grass off his clothes.

"Well, I'm headin' off. I'll tell Touya you said 'hi'." 

"Forget about that! Give me back my food!" Tsukasa exclaims. 

Akito snorts. 

He walks a few paces - then looks over his shoulder, smiling. 

Genuine.

Amused.

"Things that are gone, don't come back senpai. Next time be more careful."

He leaves, away from the branch; the protection of the shade; the filtered rays of sun.

His parting words drift back on the following wind.

Lighthearted. 

"Lunch is on me tomorrow. Don't expect anything fancy."

Tsukasa sits on the stone bench beneath the sun and shade.

He looks on as his junior disappears.

He looks on even when his junior is gone.

He sits alone for a long time.

He smiles to himself.

"What a handful."

The bell to next period echoes across the courtyard.

Footsteps, laughter, chatter.

Doors swing in; from open windows, lockers slam shut.

Tsukasa rises off the bench.

He gathers the remains of his empty bento. Folds his handkerchief back over it.

It's packed away.

His bag is slung over a shoulder. 

He looks up, towards the sky, to the sea of blue and its crown of clouds beyond the trees that reach and bow above him. 

Birds.

Young and brown-feathered.

A pair soars overhead. 

They pass in the reflective curve of his eyes.

Feathers fall and ride the breeze.

Out of sight.

Far, far away.

He adjusts his bag. 

"...Then... I'm going," he announces, softly.

He chuckles, softer. 

He goes. 

Machines speak the rhythm of a steady pulse.

Muted sounds and washed color. 

There is no recognition as his eyes groggily open. Only the sense of separation - and keenly - loss. 

Intimately familiar.

Intimately, nauseatingly, cold. 

It's churning in his stomach, sinking heavy in his gut, as his head sinks back into the stiffness of a pillow not his own.

Like waking from a week-long stupor.

Like being dragged from a perfect sleep.

He blearily looks up at the ceiling, speckled and white.

Sterile cleanliness.

It sits in the air.

The room is empty.

He's alone.

His breath rattles louder than it should be.

His face burns warm. 

Muted footsteps walk on spotless tiles, elsewhere, in the distance. 

He follows the sound, rolling his cheek along his pillow with vision that swoops and spots in soft vertigo.

His eyes fall on the closed door on the other side of the room. 

His face burns warmer.

...What barren walls. 

His left hand twitches.

His gaze moves away to what holds him in place.

An IV in the crook of his elbow.

A clip on his finger of the hand, tracking his pulse, keeping it stiff and down.

He moves his right hand instead, unable to feel half of it, shifting it up the sheets, along his chest, the hospital gown - he's in a hospital - his bare and flushed neck - until his fingers clasp weakly at the mask over his mouth.

He tugs at it.

Colder, fresh air slips into his mouth - stilted - searing - harsh.

He tugs it off completely.

It clatters off the side of the bed, onto the floor limply. 

The act is exhausting. 

He aches. 

His heart thuds in his chest, pounding noise into his skull with newfound ferocity as struggles to maintain breathing, trembling where he lays. 

His eyes blur.

He squeezes them shut, grounds his teeth, bites his tongue, and wills the rush of pain to stop.

It doesn't. 

He opens his eyes again, searching desperately for something he's unsure of. 

Only then, for the first time, on his side, he notices.

The empty white chair at his bedside. 

Only then, for the first time, he notices the white dresser next to it, along the wall, by the head of the bed, pristine and well-maintained.

A porcelain vase of tulips; berries and eucalyptus.

Stationary.

A myriad of pens. 

But it's the calendar that holds his eyes.

The mini one - next to the vase and its assortment of winter flowers.

It's white and pink.

It looks like a personal one.

The stickers that decorate it are unusually familiar; cute plants, bubbles, a piano, a guitar, stars. 

He can't look away from it. 

Someone has marked lines through the boxes of its days in rotating changed color.

Green and pink and orange and gold. 

He struggles onto his left elbow.

He pushes himself, by a miracle, upright, quaking furiously from the strain, breath quickening, unable to slow it down.

Crookedly, he sits.

His headache grows to splitting.

Perspiration mars his brow.

The dates on the calendar confuse him.

Somehow they don't look right.

He wipes his forehead with both hands.

He wipes it again, IV digging into skin.

They come away drenched in sweat.

Dizzily, he looks at them.

Dizzily, he wonders who they belong to, as a second unseen pair suffocates him by the throat. 

He can't breathe. 

He can't catch his breath.

He can't hear.

He must be dreaming. 

He tries to get up.

His legs won't budge. 

His hands loosely drop and fumble with the sheets over his them. He throws the pale sheets off.

He looks at his legs, confused. 

They're bandaged heavily - from ankle, to shin, further up - the both of them - but both are there.

Yet he can't feel them.

He leans forward, confusion growing, scooping his arms beneath his thighs.

He can't feel a thing.

He shifts his hold to one of them. He drags it over the edge of the hospital bed until his foot touches the hospital floor.

It should be cold.

Or maybe it should be warm. 

It's as if his foot isn't on the ground at all. 

He moves his second leg, painstakingly, like the first. 

He hunches over, fists on his knees, blood rushing in his ears, on the doorstep of a blistering, melting death.

A machine sounds erratically. Too fast. 

The disoriented pieces of here-and-there sit broken in his skull, jumbled, giving him nothing, telling him nothing - except that he can't walk. 

He tries anyway.

The IV in his arm rips out.

He collapses.

The clip on his finger dislodges.

His pulse goes flat. 

The door to the room opens quickly.

His sister walks in, bewildered, a plate of cut fruit in hand.

It drops when she sees him.

It explodes as it shatters.

She races towards him, distraught, crying out, running over scattered pieces of glass lying fractured - unfixable - thick like broken snow. 

His mind jolts at the sight of it. 

Snow; it blitzes. 

There's an unstoppable force, and it skids, screeching aside - rubber on grit and ice. Steel and sparks and shouts. 

But the damage is already done. 

Sirens, red and white. 

Alarms. 

Extra sets of footsteps hurry into the room - medical staff - swiftly, they urge his sister away. 

He doesn't understand it to begin with.

Why is Saki here? 

It's a rush. 

A sickening, darkening blur.

Voices bark orders.

Careful hands seize his arms.

He struggles.

It's a flash of a memory; a remembrance, that passes before his eyes, and the hands on him belong - not to doctors - but to a junior, barking out his name. 

Akito.

There are kids.

Their frightened eyes are on him.

That's right.

He's on the ground.

A part of him is broken.

His blood is on the ground.

His blood is on Akito's hands.

Akito doesn't let go of him until they're separated by force - as the stretcher is loaded in - as the door to the ambulance slams shut.

The hands inside work, wasting no time, but time escapes from him regardless.

On his chest, these hands shove life back into him.

It slips out.

They shove it back again.

And again. One more time.

Again.

"C'mon kiddo," someone says. "Fight." 

He fights. 

These hands are trying to save him. 

Fight.

A needle in the arm.

They're drugging him down.

In the ambulance. In the hospital.

In this room.

On its bed. 

He's terrified.

These saving hands give him air and pull him down. 

He's terrified. 

Reality is dissonant.

It's past and it's present. 

These hands - they drag him under - down into the fear. 

Lying down in the dark frightens him, he thinks. 

The journey down the stairs is a dark one.

The shadows of the house sit without sound.

Tsukasa holds the banister of the stairs, stopped in his precarious journey of making his way down, one socked foot after the other.

He's eight.

The living room lamp is on.

His father is on the couch, a leg tucked under him, the other touching the ground.

Books are on the table.

The TV plays, muted, as he writes diligently - paper to pen.

Tsukasa hesitates.

His sillhoutte is a solemn one of focus. 

Tsukasa hesitates more.

It's only been a few days since their terrible Christmas had ended; since Saki had been brought home from the hospital.

Maybe their father was still...

Tsukasa's hand tightens on the banister.

He lets it go.

He turns back around quietly.

And stops, startled.

"Oh Tsukasa."

His mother in her nightwear makes her way down the steps from the top of the flight, smiling sadly, if not a little exasperatedly.

She reaches him and hoists him up under the arms into her grasp with ease, settling him on her hip, brushing aside his hair.

She was supposed to be with Saki in Saki's room.

Why had she come out?

"Your sister's peacefully asleep, tucked away snug," his mother says, as if reading his mind.

She taps his nose and giggles and descends the rest of the way down the stairs, voice lifting from its kind murmur to something half scolding for her husband on the couch as she heads on over.

"Why are you watching without sound again? I've told you how scary that looks."

"Maybe I do it to frighten you," Tsukasa's father chuckles back. "Also - the remote was lost somewhere, so I figured it wasn't worth the trouble."

Tsukasa's mother makes a pit stop into the kitchen.

Then into the fridge.

Its bright light as it opens is oddly comforting.

Much more comforting than when Tsukasa opens it in the dark himself. 

She hands Tsukasa a juice box.

She makes her way to the couch as Tsukasa's father lifts his gaze from his penwork and smiles up at them.

"You're up too, little buddy?"

Tsukasa's mother knocks the remote into her husband's shoulder, affectionately annoyed. "You left it in the fridge again."

His father takes the remote from her, laughing quietly. 

His mother joins him on the couch, settling Tsukasa in the warm space between them.

The blanket folded on the couch arm is pulled off by his father and opened and spread over all three of them.

"What would you like to watch, Tsukasa?" His father asks him afterwards, unmuting the TV and letting quiet sound of the old movie on screen play through.

Tsukasa holds his juice box.

"You were working. Sorry for interrupting."

His father and mother exchange a glance over his head.

His father smiles down at him after, helping to put the straw in the juicebox as his mother's hand cards gently through his hair.

"Don't apologize, Tsukasa," he says. "Truthfully, I wasn't working."

Tsukasa frowns up at his father even as the juice is properly returned to him - until his father reaches for the 'notes' he had set on the living room's table and shows the proof.

"I was doodling. See?"

Tsukasa looks at the drawing.

It's a questionably-drawn monstrosity of some sort of sea creature he's only dreamed of in nightmares. 

His father chuckles anyway, with mirthful pride.

"You know, I once had dreams of diving into the art scene. If not that, then sewing up a storm in fashion. Alas, it never panned out. I became a boring old man."

His mother sighs.

It sounds a little bit like relief. 

Tsukasa, however, tears his eyes from the drawing and looks up at his father, concerned.

"This is pretty bad."

His father chokes. "The insult - !"

He collapses into the corner of the couch, groaning - and sulks.

"You sound just like your mother," he mutters. 

"There, there," his mother consoles, not an ounce of sympathy in her voice as his father continues to lament.

She nudges Tsukasa lightly, eyes shining in amusement though she speaks to her husband.

"Why don't we watch a movie of your choice?"

Tsukasa smiles back up at her, small.

His father huffs, theatrically, and rids himself of his drawing, taking control of the remote and flicking through the channels.

"Fine. But you two art critics can't complain."

Tsukasa doesn't.

Because the movie chosen is on the channel Tsukasa likes most. 

A fantasy film full of heart is put to play on modest volume.

His father cracks bad jokes constantly.

His mother tells him to knock it off even more.

It's warm.

The juice in Tsukasa's hands is sweet.

He doesn't know when he falls asleep.

He only knows he had woken the next blue-dawn morning, tucked safely in bed.

~x~

A thumb strokes his forehead.

Morning creeps through the frosted, curtain-parted window, pale and soft, pastel blue and gray.

The snow-swept city is the view from Tsukasa's partially-cracked, drooping eyes.

A flight of silent birds in unison, black specks against the clouded skyline.

The thumb on his forehead pauses.

He still feels so warm, even beneath its cool touch.

"Tsukasa."

The voice sounds just like his father.

Though it hurts, though his voice is raw, and head is muddled, thoughts as soft as cotton, words instinctively escape him.

"...Sorry," he mumbles, cheek to pillow.

A response doesn't come for a long, long time.

Tsukasa gazes at the sight beyond the window's glass; at the yolky, far-spilling, rising golden sun.

The thumb on his forehead turns to a hand, coming through his hair. "Don't apologize, Tsukasa."

His father's voice shakes in withheld emotion and relief.

"I'm so glad you're alive." 

Tsukasa doesn't understand the meaning of the words. Not exactly. But he's still tired. 

So he rests. 

~x~

Rui rests beside him.

The sky is unnaturally blue.

The fence of the rooftop bends and buckles, rattling lightly in the passing wind.

Rui's toolbox and a multitude of screwdrivers, wires and plates lie scattered, disorganized around them.

To finish modifications on a new drone prototype - he had said.

Tsukasa might've been bothered by the oil grease and black smudges that had gotten onto his own uniform in the middle of Rui's work, had he had it in him.

But he didn't.

His textbook sits open - on his face - blocking out the sun.

"Rui," he says after a moment of infinity.

"Hm?"

"I'm going to fail."

"It seems that way, yes."

Tsukasa pushes the book aside, scowling first at the blinding rays of light from above, then at his friend next to him.

The pages of his math book flutter in the breeze.

Equations and angles of infernal condemnation.

"You could at least try and sympathize! If I keep doing poorly, they'll make me stay back a year!"

Rui turns his head along the concrete of the roof's ground, cheek resting idly in the shadow of Tsukasa's own head.

"That would make me your senpai then, wouldn't it?"

Tsukasa's stare is incredulous. 

"Why is that the first thing you thought of?"

"It wasn't. It was the third."

Tsukasa hates how he's curious. 

"...What was the second?"

"How you'd wind up in the same graduating class as Nene and Shinonome-kun."

"You're a sadist!" Tsukasa cries. "Why are the two who bully me the most so high on the priority list of your thoughts?"

"Because it involves you regardless," Rui muses, wicked light in his eyes.

Tsukasa finds a balled-up piece of scrap paper scribbled in triangles and degrees in between where they lay - and throws it at him.

It doesn't do much of anything.

Mostly because he'd missed.

"At this distance?" Rui comments, doing a terrible job of hiding his amusement, still not bothering to move. "Perhaps I should tutor you in trigonometry after all."

"Forget it! The last time you tutored me in anything we wound up in the SEKAI with your Grand Hero Nexus Power Suit!"

"Mm. A suitable experiment wasn't it?"

"You sent KAITO into a wall."

"Tsukasa-kun, I was a passive observer. You were the one inside."

"A passive observer with the remote controls."

Tsukasa rolls onto his stomach and puts his face to the ground instead - wallowing in the depths of his folded arms beneath him.

"Never mind. I'll flunk my class and get left behind."

"Aoyagi-kun would be thrilled to have you in his grade."

Tsukasa almost laughs.

Almost.

He catches himself in time. Because he's supposed to be miserable.

Rui's hand settles on his back, and rubs between his shoulders blades consolingly anyway.

"There, there. No need for dramatics, Tsukasa-kun. At least not in this. I'll help you out of course. Give me some time to consider a particulars. I'll come up with a solution before our next major exam."

It's relief that floods the tension from Tsukasa immediately.

Followed by rightful suspicion.

There'd been something in Rui's tone.

Some sort of underlying, dark chuckle that only bode misfortune.

He lifts his face out of his arms and narrows his eyes at his friend.

Rui has propped himself up on an elbow, watching him in bemusement, as if he had expected the look from Tsukasa to come.

"Don't worry. There'll be no tricks out of it this time. Have I ever lied to you?"

No. Rui hadn't.

There were things he selectively chose to say and keep to himself.

He had never lied to Tsukasa or the others once.

Tsukasa sets aside the antics of their shows and Rui's previous inventions made for small fun, and sighs, resigned.

"I believe you. ....Thanks for the help then. I appreciate it."

"It's trigonometry giving you trouble?"

"For some reason. Maybe I'm just not focusing enough on what I need to."

"That could be so."

They settle into comfortable silence.

They had another twenty minutes before they'd need to leave.

School had let out not too long ago.

Eventually they'd be chased down by a teacher or member of the student council.

It was a rare occasion neither had club commitments or immediate practice for their stage.

But little time to relax in the end regardless....

"Tsukasa-kun's been sharing lunches with Shinonome-kun lately." 

"Hm?"

Tsukasa's mind stops drifting off towards nothing.

The question comes out of nowhere. 

"Yeah. But that's only because he skips his meals when Touya's off studying. I can't let him go hungry." 

Rui says nothing to that for a minute.

When he does, his voice reaches Tsukasa, appreciative and soft.

"...You try very hard to befriend Shinonome-kun, don't you?" 

Tsukasa gazes out across the roof, chin in the crook of his elbow.

"He makes Touya happy."

He can feel Rui's gaze on the side of his face.

"...You're honest, aren't you, Tsukasa-kun?" 

Honest.

"Is that what it's called?"

Tsukasa keeps on gazing ahead.

He chuckles. Slowly.

"That's a strange way to put it."

Clouds pass overhead and bring with them shadows.

Tsukasa mood sinks into the newly-brought, overcast shade.

"I'm not so good at it sometimes," he murmurs. 

"Oya, putting yourself down?" Rui questions, sounding genuinely surprised, and a moderate degree of disapproving. "What brought that on? Is there something on your mind?" 

There is.

Tsukasa doesn't say what it is. 

Because he can't speak the truth.

He speaks about something else.

He speaks about something else that's the same. 

"I tried to convince Akito to bring lunch to the roof once. It's cleaner than the grass he likes to lounge in," Tsukasa shares, voice level; absent. "He refused. I couldn't get him out of the tree he climbed into. Ants fell down my shirt."

"That sounds like an ordeal."

"It was. He told me after helping whip the ants off that no one would take the effort to come up here except for couples and weirdos." 

Rui is silent for a beat.

A beat of a second too long. 

"...Is that so?"

The humor is small in Rui's response.

Diminished.

"Well. A couple of weirdos. That's a familiar nickname to the both of us." 

"Yeah. I guess so." 

"Does it bother you?" 

"At first it might've. But it's useless trying to fight it once it starts."

"Fight what?"

Rui isn't asking for the purpose of trying to figure anything out.

He's asking for the purpose of confirmation.

Tsukasa knows.

He doesn't give him the answer he's looking for. 

"Rumors." 

Rui doesn't deviate, undeterred. 

"And what does Tsukasa-kun see us as?"

Tsukasa doesn't look over.

Tsukasa doesn't answer. 

Rui lays silently beside him, watching him.

He lays silently for several minutes more.

He sits up.

Casually.

At ease.

He stretches his arms lightly above his head and works the kinks out of his shoulders and neck. 

Tsukasa keeps his eye straight ahead, squashing down every urge to otherwise speak out.

It doesn't work.

"Rui," he says. 

"I didn't mean to ask a strange question. I know what you are to me. Don't mind it," his friend reassures him calmly.

Tsukasa tempers his annoyance at himself.

He closes his eyes briefly.

Re-opens them.

Pushes onto his elbows, then his knees, glancing about where they've settled.

Rui has already begun picking up the small tools scattered from his toolbox to stow them safely inside.

Tsukasa follows his movements.

Feeling a bit tired.

He can't help but smile anyway, brows furrowing in acceptance.

He picks up his math textbook.

He gazes at its angles and degrees and unsolvable equations. 

Finding the missing 'x' was probably impossible. 

...That was alright.

Still, he wonders, for how much longer he'll pretend.

He supposes forever. 

He is an actor.

He closes the book. 

He gets to his feet and stretches himself out.

When his arms lower and he turns to talk to Rui about an idea for their next show instead, he finds Rui gazing at him with a hint of smile.

There's no reason for it to make Tsukasa embarrassed - but it does.

His ears warm.

His hand on his textbook gets clammy.

His eyes go to the side of them, towards the fence.

Seven stories wasn't too high up.

There was a good chance his stunts at the Wonder Stage had given him some sort of invincibility. 

He brings his eyes back to Rui. 

Rui's gaze is nothing but golden warmth. He holds a set of papers in his hand, Tsukasa's way. 

Tsukasa mind takes the time buffer.

"What's this?"

"Old notes of mine. Take a look at them when you get the chance and let me know if it anything in your textbook makes sense afterwards."

Oh. 

That was nice of him. 

Tsukasa reaches out and takes them - but Rui doesn't let go. 

Rui's eyes on him are kind.

His grip on his notes loosen.

"Tsukasa-kun."

Tsukasa falters under the gaze.

His own grip loosen in return.

"...What is it?"

Wind blows between them.

The papers are shunted from their careless hands.

They look at one another.

They turn their heads.

And watch Tsukasa's only immediate saving grace fly over the fence and into the sky.

White.

Like petals. 

Tsukasa's heart sinks. 

"Hold tightly this time," Rui advises, much later, in the evening as it darkens to night, handing to Tsukasa another set of notes.

Tsukasa shifts on his doorstep, accepting them. "I didn't let go on purpose," he says.

Rui shakes his head slightly, the curve of his mouth somewhat somber.

Somewhat small.

"Neither did I."

His eyes speak volumes of the unspoken.

Tsukasa starts to find the words.

But Rui bids him farewell.

Gently, with care. 

"Get home safe, Tsukasa-kun." 

He can't remember if he ever does.

He stands under inky skies.

Dozing white flowers, on a hill, in a glowing field.

Bowing in the silent breeze.

He gazes down at the odd sight of attractions, carnival rides and lights; a golden city full of stages and the inane far, far away.

It's familiar.

Naggingly so.

But up here, so far away from it, it's quiet.

He looks at his empty hands for a moment.

He's older.

He's rightfully himself.

There's a clarity in knowing this, that cuts through the settled murk of unknowing in his head.

He thinks of his parents.

Of Saki.

Their smiling faces.

When they were younger.

The sound of roaring applause. 

A show.

A hero who had conquered all foes, with comrades at their side. Victorious before the fallen.

Yet dashingly - to the villain - they had offered their hand. 

"It's not over."

Curtains had drawn closed in denouement. 

Saki had clapped beside him.

Saki had cried.

 She had wiped her face, grinning widely, wobbly, tears spilling from her eyes.

The curtains had re-opened.

The actors had stood on stage.

Last bows and waves under a sea of golden lights.

A spell of magic.

Light had shone down on Tsukasa too. 

"It's a good memory," a voice speaks suddenly from behind him.

He turns around, startled. 

Blue eyes; a kind smile.

"I'm glad I could see it. Tsukasa-kun at peace." 

"...Miku...!" he exclaims, softly in surprise. 

Somehow, he knows he knows her. 

No, but it's not her.

Not the one he feels he should know.

This one feels older.

This one feels calmer.

Like she's known him more than anyone, from the start. 

Her arms rest lightly behind her back.

Behind her sits a mighty tree, laden in white blossoms. 

"Tsukasa-kun," she greets. "It's been a while." 

"Miku?" he says again, puzzled, feeling greatly like he's missing out. 

"You were sleeping for a long time. How do you feel?" 

"Fine," he answers right away.

He looks down at his hands for a second time.

He takes a second look around them.

The amusement park below. The flowers on the hill.

Miku and the tree.

"I'm fine," he says again, uncertain. "...What happened?" 

"You were in pain," Miku says simply, note of forever understanding in her voice. "The applause and music disappeared. The lights of the stage shut off. I came to help you remember."

She tilts her head, as if rethinking her words.

"Perhaps I came to help guide you home." 

"Home?" Tsukasa wonders. "You mean you don't know?" 

"I know what Tsukasa-kun knows. Our hearts are the same." 

It's not a riddle, but it sits in his head like one, regardless, and makes him rub the back of his neck, confuddled, mouth bending in a frown.

"I don't get it. ....But I guess?" 

Miku walks through the flowers, feet light, without sound. She stands next to him, keeping her arms behind her back.

She hums very lightly as she peers at the amusement park in the distance.

"Everyone's been worried. They care about you a lot. I can feel it." 

He follows her gaze. "Who's everyone?"

It feels like he's echoing someone else's words. 

"Your friends," Miku answers. "Your family too."

She brings her eyes back to him.

Her smile is small but bright.

"They haven't left your side once."

"Oh." 

He's not sure what she means. 

He knows what she means. 

"Will you go to see them?" Miku questions. 

I'm not sure how, he thinks.

He says as much aloud.

Would Saki and his parents be there - wherever he wound up?

Where would that place be?

There is no clear road ahead.

The lights are far.

No matter how he sees it, it's a long walk through the night.

This far from the lights, the wind is cold.

He can't go. 

He's not a coward. 

He's only frightened. 

"I don't understand," he says, looking down at his legs. 

"Are you perhaps scared, Tsukasa-kun?" 

He shakes his head. 

"Then don't worry," Miku tells him. "You'll be alright."

He looks up.

She nods her head, as if giving him a heartfelt, visual confirmation.

"The stars are bright tonight after all." 

The words.

They resonate.

They jar him from his stupor.

He gazes at her for a good long second, stunned.

He tilts his head back.

Light arcs across the sky of celestial galaxies and stars.

They reflect in his eyes - and he's reminded - of blue skies - white clouds - and pair of soaring birds, over school courtyard, flush with life.

He's reminded of a beach.

Of clear waters on sanded, white shores.

The bursting sparks of fireworks. Precious friends beside him, sparklers shaping laughter in the air.

A bonfire crackles. Their fireplace flickers in faux flames.

He sits on the couch, next to Saki, a shared blanket around their legs, as they listen to their mother playing across eighty-eight keys she had taught them herself.

The melody is familiar. It's the song played most often on her phonograph; on her carefully preserved discs.

There were lyrics. He remembered there were, though he couldn't sing the words. The house was too empty.

The tree was too tall.

There's a hospital room, and in it, Saki weeps.

On the other side of the wall, he holds her present in his hands.

Shimmering green. Wrapped in a bow.

It's a gift.

A barrette of a star.

He lowers his head from the sky.

He looks at the park before him, out of reach. 

Important people and important things.

They existed there too.

With bright stages - waiting for a magnificent show. 

I have to go. 

But how?

He turns around.

"Miku - " 

Miku is gone. 

He takes a few steps, bewildered.

On the hill of flowers, he stands on his own.

He's in the middle of trying to figure out where she went, when a rustling comes from behind the tree.

He takes his chances and hurries towards it, a newfound feeling of freedom found in the movement of his legs.

Something he's never noticed before.

Something he somehow, innately, feels grateful for.

A hand on the wide trunk; he leans his head behind the tree.

"Hey Miku - ?" 

There's no one.

He stares, blinking at the shadows in the grass.

That was strange.

....It certainly looked like it was shaped like a person.

Actually.

He keeps staring.

It's definitely in the shape of a person.

Somewhat familiar. 

"Is something wrong, Tsukasa-kun?" 

He looks up and shrieks. 

Luka blinks down at him, seated on the lowest branch above him in the tree.

Her pink hair is a spilling curtain in the darkness of the SEKAI as she tilts her head. 

Tsukasa recovers - horribly embarrassed - face heating, heart threatening to burst out his chest.

He holds a hand to it, and gives her a look; half-affronted, half-vexed.

"Luka!" he exclaims. "What the heck are you doing up there? You almost gave me a heart attack!"

He pauses.

Remembrance comes to him swiftly. His expression waylays to worry.

"Wait a second. Luka, are you alright? I thought you were asleep." 

She gazes down at him thoughtfully, her eyes the darkest shade of blue.

It's a gem of a sapphire; an abyssal ocean in the dark that surrounds them, sparkling, shimmering in knowing.

"I suppose I was. But when I opened my eyes, I was here with Miku. She's different than I remember. But it was a good meeting. I felt this one was an old friend."

Her gaze goes to the sky curiously.

"It feels like she's still here. Perhaps that's because of Tsukasa-kun." 

"Me?" 

Luka slides gracefully from the tree.

She lands beside him, fluffy dress shining pink and white. 

It reminds him of something - the colors - though he can't put his finger on what it is. 

"Stargazing," says Luka, "I think I've done it a lot elsewhere." 

Tsukasa stops thinking about her dress.

"Where?" 

"I can't say. Maybe there was a roof." 

It's not the vaguest thing he's heard from her. But it's vague enough nonetheless that he can't make sense of it.

Truthfully, he still had yet to figure out what part of him and the others she represented.

She was kind and wise, and although she fell asleep plenty in the most unorthodox of places, at the most inopportune times, she participated in shows and seemed more than happy to be surrounded by her own friends. 

He tries to recall when she appeared in the SEKAI.

However, before he can spend any time thinking on it, Luka holds his arm and takes a place close beside him, musing. 

"Huuuuu, I must've gotten lost. If Tsukasa-kun is here, did he get lost as well?" 

"Maybe," he says absently.

There's something-  strange.

White.

Falling.

From the muted skies of the SEKAI; its inky blues and dotted stars.

"It's snowing...?" he mumbles. 

Luka holds out her free hand, curious - delighted.

"Ara, ara? Is this what you would call a 'White Christmas'?"

Christmas. 

Tsukasa gazes at the snow. "Christmas," he echoes. 

Luka hums.

"Hmmm. We'll get cold if we stand in it for too long. Tsukasa-kun, should we find our way back home?" 

They're laughing.

In the first snow of winter, in the park.

Saki runs around, swaddled in scarves and coat and hat and mitts, dragging Shiho by the hand.

Ichika and Honami look on, a snowman halfway rolled; piled between them all.

Their cheeks are rosy.

Hair crowned in crystals.

Smiles bright.

They're seven years old.

They're the best of friends.

Tsukasa sits on the frozen swing-set a short distance from the playground. His boots can't touch the fluffed drifts beneath him by a good amount.

He's smaller than he should be; shorter than the others in his class.

Shizuku pushes him back-and-forth as they talk.

Tsukasa grins over his shoulder in excitement.

Shizuku giggles brightly, cheeks flushing warm.

But Saki yelps.

She cries out.

The swing abruptly stops.

Tsukasa turns his head quickly around.

Shiho is stricken.

Ichika and Honami are stunned.

Saki has tripped over herself.

She's crumpled in the snow.

She's crumpled.

And she does not move. 

Tsukasa fumbles from the swing.

He hurries to her, terrified, fear smothering his lungs. 

~x~

Saki weeps.

Tsukasa stands outside her hospital room's door.

He's eight years old.

Wet clings to the nape of his neck, a melted but lingering touch from the frost of snowfall, dusting every car, every sidewalk, in unforgiving cold.

It's Christmas Eve.

A present is in his hands.

Shimmering green paper.

A golden bow.

If he had been been more responsible.

If he had told their parents what happened.

If he hadn't caved and promised to keep it a secret as she had begged him on the way home -

"I'm fine, onii-chan! Really! Everyone trips!" 

In Saki's room -

In Tsukasa's room as he had gone to ribbon her present - Saki wouldn't have burned with a fever and collapsed if he had only - 

It's his fault.

That's why he runs.

He's found in the darkness of the night beneath a snowy pine, trembling, shaking; frozen.

Yet his father crouches beside him and gives him a gaze of worry and love.

He's gathered into a hug.

Held tight.

The walk back to the hospital is a slow one amidst the falling snow.

"You're a good big brother." 

He's not.

Not yet.

"Onii-chan," Saki will say Christmas morning, after he's slid a barrette of gold in her hair.

After he's put on a play.

After he's brought her food and extra blankets and a mini snowman to replace the one she never finished in the park with her friends.

"You've done more than enough," she'll tell him, on the verge of tears, upset.

Saki...

She'll pull him down next to her.

She'll ask him to rest.

"Next time, I'll do better."

One year, he would do it.

He had promised himself.

For the secret he had kept.

But Saki had just kept getting sick every holiday after, as if reminding him of the mistake that couldn't happen again.

Just once.

A Great Christmas.

If they could have it once -

The lights of the hospital room are dim.

Cardamon and honey.

It's a familiar smell.

He thinks, once, there was a time he mixed a bowl of milk and cinnamon and sweet honey with Saki at his side, in the kitchen of their home.

As snow had fallen quietly outside the windows of their house, and their parents had been in the kitchen, cooking with giggles and gusto and cheer.

The sound of knitting.

Quiet murmuring.

What a strange imagination he's having.

This bare ceiling and its bare walls - feels like home.

Had it ever for Saki?

He gazes at the shadowed ceiling.

His breath trembles beneath the mask he wears.

Wet curves - from eye-to-cheek - onto pillow - soiling it damp.

The murmuring stops.

There's movement at his side.

A hand falls on his own, and squeezes his fingers, carefully.

The face of his sister looks down at him, shoulders hunched, vulnerable.

She puts on a wobbling smile.

"Merry Christmas," she tells him, whispering.

Their parents are behind her.

They softly tell him the same.

He takes them in blankly.

Empty.

He thinks it's a nice dream. 

He's thinks it's cruel. 

He's grateful for it anyway as his beating heart weeps and aches at the thought of family.

Luka stops their walk down the winding, flowered hill, her arm linked through her own as the snow continues to fall.

The entrance of the park, of his SEKAI, blazes with sound and music and life before. 

She looks at him, smiling. 

"Here, Tsukasa-kun. Safe and sound." 

He lurches half-awake.

The beep of a monitor keep a steady beat.

His eyes rest on the ceiling in what seems like a terrible case of deja vu.

He breathes, placidly, into his mask, uncannily sedated.

Voices cheer around him.

Tiny, but loud.

For a moment he thinks his mind is still caught elsewhere, in some sort of hallucination.

Then he hears what they're saying.

"Fwuueeee~ Tsukasa-kun is up again!"

"He is! Heyyy! Tsukasa-kun! Can you hear us?"

"Len, you have to scoot over. There's not enough room for me!"

"Everyone, please, settle down. We can all - Whoa-! "

"Do you think he's sleeping with his eyes open?"

Twin voices of young complaint. 

"MEIKO!" 

He brings his gaze down from the ceiling and stares.

A phone is on his chest.

His own.

Turned on.

Four faces wait eagerly, small bodies crowding as they lean towards his face.

Miku, MEIKO, Rin and Len.

KAITO's face-down, half on Tsukasa's sheet-covered body, half on the screen of the phone.

Their costumes of the SEKAI.

It's so achingly familiar - all of it - the bickering, the enthusiasm - it's like a piece of home.

Emotion rises in his chest, builds in his throat; spills from his mouth. 

The words leave him, faintly, in a whisper, muffled under the mask, though it hurts to speak; though it burns painfully raw. 

"I'm back." 

They greet him in celebratory unison. 

"Welcome back!" 

KAITO picks himself up, onto his knees, sighing.

He looks like he's been through one harrowing ordeal after the other.

But when he looks at Tsukasa, a smile graces his lips - and Tsukasa feels his own mirror the sentiment.

He brings a hand to the mask over his mouth and touches it, intending to pull it away. 

"This will be the eighth time, Tenma-kun," an unfamiliar voice says from somewhere off to the side. "Just for a moment longer, I'll have to ask you to keep it on." 

Tsukasa's head turns with breaking speed to his left.

The whiplash is horrendous.

He bites back a bout of lightheadedness, nausea and blackening vision before his sight returns.

He stares in horror.

A nurse in teal scrubs, with brown eyes and brown hair, studies a set of charts hooked up on the wall.

He scribbles something on the clipboard he holds before lowering it and turning to regard Tsukasa.

The nurse's pen clicks shut.

He slips it into the front pocket of his wear, the name 'Kobayashi' printed black on the thin, white name-card clipped beneath it. 

"Kobayashi Hiiro," he introduces himself kindly.

The corner of his mouth quirks upwards.

"You've been quite the patient, Tenma-kun. I'm pleased to see your fevers have finally broke."

Tsukasa keeps staring at him in mortification.

The Virtual Singers on his chest, on his phone, don't go away.

They wave at the nurse. 

The nurse waves back, then shifts on his heels and heads casually for the door, clipboard tucked beneath an arm.

"I'll be back in a moment. Sit tight."   

Tsukasa sits upright with a strength he didn't know he had, yanking off the mask.

"Wait - !" 

The rush lasts for a second.

He keels over immediately afterwards, somewhat haphazardly, struggling to form words, though his head sits high above the clouds and spins from the recklessness of his movement.

His phone tumbles into his lap.

Those of the SEKAI disappear as the screen darkens. 

A sigh.

Fond exasperation. 

The footsteps of the nurse return his way. Hand-to-shoulder; he eases Tsukasa back to an elevated position of lying down.

He takes the time to remove the phone off Tsukasa and set it face-up on the dresser beside the bed.

"The ninth," he says as Tsukasa's eyebrows knit and his eyes focus on the face of the nurse too unperturbed for someone who had witnessed a bunch of talking holograms.

The mask is removed gently from Tsukasa's clutching grip.

"I'll take it so there isn't a tenth." 

The nurse departs afterwards.

The door closes behind him.

Tsukasa looks at the door.

He looks at the desk.

He looks at Miku in her bright, red show clothes who has reappeared, seated cross-legged - with Luka at her side. 

"He seems nice," says Luka. 

"Hiiro-kun is suuuuuper nice!" Miku cheers. "He lets us hang out all night and plugs in the phone so it doesn't die." 

"Maybe I could talk to him next time he comes back." 

"Yeah," mumbles Tsukasa, looking at the both of them, "maybe you could. He seems pretty swell - Is this a joke? What the heck was that - Why are you guys friends!"

The strain of exclamation violently burns.

His voice chokes out.

He coughs, lungs tight, shoulders stiffening.

Miku makes a worried noise, but he doesn't try to lift his head to look at her again as he continues coughing into his hand.

His mother would chide him for hours for the careless spread of germs against his own health. 

But he's having a hard time fathoming what's just occurred.

He doesn't know if it's because he's woken less than five minutes ago.

He doubts it is.

More likely -

It's just because it's Miku.

"Tsukasa-kun."

KAITO. 

"Should we try some breathing exercises?" 

"...KAITO," he rasps through his fingers, a little darkly, shifting his gaze back to the dresser and his phone.

He struggles only moderately to breathe.

"What's going on?"

The troupe leader looks back at him, frowning in concern, as Miku hovers, clinging to KAITO's shoulder with an even bigger frown.

Luka - it appears- has peacefully gone. 

"You're in the hospital," KAITO dutifully reports. 

Yes, he could see that. 

"How?" 

"Hm?" KAITO blinks twice. "You don't remember?" 

He brings a hand to his chin. 

"There was an accident. You were hit by a car." 

Tsukasa looks at him, uncomprehending.

He lowers his hand from his mouth. 

For a moment, nothing comes to mind.

After a lengthy period of silence in which he sits, and sits, and thinks, nothing coming to memory - he asks -

"When?" 

"A few weeks ago," Miku says. 

A few weeks ago. 

"You woke more than once, but you were extremely sick. We'd talk to you because it seemed like you could hear us, but when you fell asleep and woke again, you never remembered. Tsukasa-kun was in a lot of pain. Saki-chan and your parents - everyone was worried."

Miku features are wrought, troubled, at the recollection. 

Tsukasa feels like he's heard those last words from her before, differently, but the same.

He looks at his hands and arms, noticing, for the first time, their bandages. 

He doesn't know why this is important; why a sudden gavel of gravity has brought his thoughts and head back down. 

"...I was badly hurt?" 

"Yes," KAITO answers. "For a time, the SEKAI lost all power. Thankfully, it wasn't for very long. We wound up somewhere strange." 

"It was all white," Miku says. "Emu-chan called us back." 

"Emu."

The name sits on Tsukasa's tongue.

Her cheerful face comes to mind.

Briefly, he wonders what she'd been doing while he'd been in here.

Working on a show?

Practice for gymnastics?

Her school gave more homework than Kamiyama High did.

Maybe she'd spent her time going through her lessons while on break - 

He jerks.

Violently. 

He looks the other way - for the window.

Its curtains are parted.

The late morning sun rises over the view of the city offered beyond.

Snow sits, sparkling and white over the rooftops.

There's a wheelchair by the window. Aluminum and blue rubber.

"Hiiro-kun said you'd be able to walk soon the last time he spoke to your parents," Miku says behind him. "The surgery went well."

Tsukasa barely hears her.

His head rattles.

With his words. 

"Miku. KAITO." 

"...Yes, Tsukasa-kun?" 

"What day is it?" 

They're silent for long enough that Tsukasa tears his gaze from the wheelchair, from the city, sun, and still, settled snow on top of buildings of gray, and looks in the other direction for an answer.

Miku is nowhere in sight.

It's KAITO who remains, and KAITO who regards him - with a great deal of care - before his tiny holographic figure steps aside and turns slightly around to look at the mini calendar propped up behind his phone.

Pink and white.

Stickers.

Marked by colored pens. 

The month is January. 

The date is the third. 

"No," he hears himself say, as if out of body.

As if far away.

"That can't be right." 

KAITO doesn't say anything.

Tsukasa's brows furrow.

He keeps looking at the month and date.

It doesn't make sense.

Vaguely, he recalls the month of December.

Of a winter break.

Of gift-shopping.

Of school. 

Of Rui.

His parents and Saki.

He hadn't given anyone presents.

He hadn't built a tree. 

"What happened to the holidays?" 

KAITO meets his gaze and holds it, steady.

"They passed, Tsukasa-kun." 

Chapter Text

"What do you think of a time machine?"

"A time machine?"

Nene dies in-game, clicks her tongue and lowers her phone.

She turns her head to look at him.

The eve is warm.

The pink and peach sky is full of on-setting stars.

Tsukasa lounges on the open bench beside her, hands behind him, resting with his weight.

He gazes upwards. 

"Yeah. It travels through time."

"I know what a time machine is Tsukasa." He senses her consternation on the side of his head. "Why are you mentioning one now?"

The remnants of day sink beneath the horizon in a burning, scorched blaze.

Bleeding shadows. Bleeding flames. 

It's November.

Late fall.

At their feet; at their bench, scatter red and dead leaves, colors dulling in the drawing dusk.

The creep of winter hasn't yet dared show itself. 

"Because." Tsukasa keeps gazing at the sky. "I asked Rui to build one." 

He can feel when Nene lowers her phone.

"You're aware that's impossible right?"

He tears his eyes from the sky and looks at her. "It's that kind of spirit that tethers your wings to the ground."

"I don't have wings. Maybe you need to be tethered to reality."

Her eyes on him narrow.

"What would someone like you do with a time machine anyway?"

"Use it?"

"For what?"

"You don't have to say it like I'm some criminal with nefarious plans!" he exclaims.

He crosses his arms, settling more comfortably onto the bench as he grouches.

"It would come in handy, is all. For dire situations." 

"What sort of dire situations do you have running through your head?"

"A missed exam. A mistake in a show."

"So shallow."

His eyebrow twitches. He uncrosses his arms and squints at her. "Oh yeah? And what would you use it for?"  

"Something important," Nene replies without missing a beat. "To see myself in the future. To tell myself nice things. Warn myself who to stay away from."

"You aren't being slick." 

She ignores him.

"Maybe I'd go back and re-live good moments." 

"That does sound like a good idea actually." He considers her. "But good moments only? You wouldn't ever try and change a past regret?"

"What would be the purpose of that?" She looks at him directly. "It likely wouldn't work. Then you'd be re-living it twice." 

"What if you could fix it?"

"What if you couldn't?"

Tsukasa blinks. 

Nene keeps looking at him.

Then she looks away.

"...Anyway, changing the past would disrupt the future. Isn't that basic common sense?"

She shifts her attention back to her phone. 

A new character is selected.

A versus game begins.

He watches her.

She gets annoyed. 

"Stop watching me." 

Her character gets knocked down. 

Her character jumps back up. 

Tsukasa thinks about his sister.

He thinks about the past. 

"Nene," he says. "Could you explain it to me?"

"Explain what?" Nene mutters.  

"Why you think you wouldn't be able to 'fix' what went wrong. If you went back and tried to." 

She lifts her head, a barb prepared on her tongue- that stops - when she sees his expression.

He wonders if it's because it's as earnest as he feels. 

Her phone vibrates.

Her character is brutally murdered. 

She glances down at the Game-Over on the screen.

He glances down with her. 

"Oh. Sorry." 

She sighs and lifts her gaze back up. 

They sit for a moment under the gradient haze of the cloud-scattered sunburst sky.

Looking at one another.

The evening drapes between them, long and quiet and soft.

It’s a pale green dress she wears; stockings and sleeves with flowers and small lace - a cardigan.

Her violet eyes are luminescent. The irritation isn't so prominent in them anymore.

There's something else that lights their shadows.

Something he isn't able to pick apart and tell. 

"It's not that I wouldn't be able to fix it. I would only wonder if it was worth it. Experiencing it again just to have the same results."

"What do you mean?"

She fidgets. Just a bit.

"I mean... wouldn't it defeat the purpose of being where I am now? With everything I learned? And the mistakes I grew from? It was painful once. It doesn't have to be painful again. You can enjoy the good things from it now."

He gazes at her for a long, long time.

A longer time still.

His own eyes grow alight in the waning gold of the last vestiges of the sun.

"...With the Wonder Show. Our troupe. Our team. You're happy here with us." 

She jumps where she sits, reddening - perplexed and taken aback. "W-When did I say that?"

"I heard it."

Tsukasa rises off the bench and looks around them, searching.

He finds who he's looking for in the row of hedges a short distance behind them.

Emu and Rui crouched down in light conversation, catching fireflies.

"Hey, you guys!" he calls out. "Nene just told me -!"

Nene drags him down by the arm, and punches him, weakly, angrily, repeatedly. "Stop it, Tsukasa, you idiot -"

"Ouch! That's a sensitive spot - !"

"Rui-kun, what are they doing?"

"Why, they're bonding of course." 

"Looks fun! Tsukasa-kun, I'm coming for you too! Geronimooo!" 

It's a tackle from behind.

Tsukasa makes an attempt to claw his way out from under her.

She tickles him, cackling gleefully, manically. 

"Rui... You traitor.... I'll get you back," are Tsukasa's tearfully, weak mutters of wrath as Nene resumes her dignified seat on the bench and Rui takes his time coming over. 

"Oh no," says Rui, looking down at him. "I'm terrified." 

He sits on the bench next to Nene and preoccupies himself with analyzing Nene's battle strategy against her opponent instead.

It's Keisuke who saves Tsukasa in the end, finally exiting the playhouse a few feet over the rest of them had left twenty minutes before.

The trip they'd been on was for a viewing of a classic Halloween show.

A treat for the holidays.

And perhaps 'inspiration' for future productions. 

"Everyone still looks lively," he comments, as if Tsukasa isn't on the ground, being sat on by his sister. "There's a diner nearby. What do you think about sharing dinner?" 

There's a general consensus. 

Nene is forced to sit next to him by process of elimination.

Rui spends half the time purposefully pushing up Tsukasa's pant leg with his foot.

Emu picks the six least-ordered items off the menu for all of them to share. 

Keisuke either takes the chaos as an ordinary occurrence or is just oblivious to Tsukasa's suffering.

Tsukasa isn't sure what's worse. 

Yet somehow, they make it home safe and sound and warm and flushed - though it's considerably late in the night. 

"A time machine." 

"What about it?" Rui muses. 

He walks Tsukasa to his door from Keisuke's car for no perceivable reason. 

Tsukasa stops on his doormat and turns to look up at his friend.

"Can you do it?" 

"If that's what Tsukasa-kun wishes. You disliked the food Emu-kun chose that much?" 

Truthfully yes. His arteries were weeping.

But no - 

"Not for that reason. Nene mentioned something earlier. About going back to good moments," Tsukasa shares. "I think it'd be a worthwhile investment." 

"For yourself?"

"Not just me. There's lots of others it would be useful for."

Tsukasa's gaze wanders halfway towards the door to his house before he catches himself, and quickly looks back to Rui. 

Rui's smile tells him he knows all regardless.

"I see. Well, I'm sure I could do it. Are you fine with waiting fifteen years?"

"Is that how long it would take to build one?"

"It's technology that doesn't exist, Tsukasa-kun. I'm being generous. We'd likely be old and gray."

Tsukasa frowns, tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth, slow. 

"Then I guess I can wait," he says, unsticking his tongue with a touch of reluctance. "We could go back to this time once its done anyway. To any time, right?"

"I suppose so."

Rui considers him, something falling into his gaze.

It's not unlike the sort of look Nene had given him earlier on by the bench.

"Does that mean you plan to stay in contact with me that far down the road?" 

"Why wouldn't I? Of course I would. There isn't anyone else like you, you know. I'll probably be right beside you when you finish making the machine anyway. Besides, how else would we test it out? You can't do it alone."

"I could." 

"Well you can't. I want to be there when it happens," Tsukasa tells him firmly, getting naturally-wound up at the thought. "You really think I would let you travel through time and space by yourself? Who knows what you'd do to the poor people of the past? To the me of the past? I'd have to keep him from your clutches! Old and wise you would be, but sadistic nonetheless!" 

Rui looks at him.

And chuckles.

"....You really do say things without thinking about them, don't you?"

"Wha- " Tsukasa's mouth drops open. "That's seriously mean. And totally uncalled for! What gives?"

Rui chuckles again. Softer. His hand rises to his chin in mirth as he looks at Tsukasa under the pale glow of the house light.

"All I meant is that I'm grateful. That a future still together is the kind of future you see."

Tsukasa's ire zaps out of him all at once. 

They don't talk about it.

The future. 

They talk about it when it comes to their shows.

Tsukasa talks about it when it comes to his dreams.

Rui talks about it when it comes to his goals. 

They don't talk about it - when it comes to parting from one another. 

Although there are better actors Rui could leave for. 

Although with Rui's talents, there are better places he can go.

"Ruiiiii-kunnn!"

Emu's voice breaks loudly into their silence. 

"Nene-chan says to leave you behind if you're not coming back inside! I told Keisuke-onii-chan to count down from ten. Heeerree we goo! Ten!"

"Oi! Emu!" Tsukasa looks past Rui and to Emu sticking her head out the car door. "You'll wake the whole neighborhood!"

"Says the one shouting in return," Rui muses.

Fingers tug on Tsukasa's ear, playfully, fondly as Rui departs, heading down the stairs of his house with re-found mirth.

"See you at school tomorrow, Tsukasa-kun. Don't forget your homework." 

Tsukasa's hand goes to his ear.

Absently.

"Oh yeah. Thanks for the reminder, Rui. Have a good night."  

His eyes drift past Rui's retreating figure to the Ootori car on the road.

Nene is looking out the wound-down car window out at him - judgment on her face. 

He drops his hand.

He hurries indoors. 

The lights are on inside.

The TV plays.

Saki perks up from the couch and rolls off of it.

"I thought I heard your voice onii-chan. Wow! You were out pretty late!"

"Saki?" he says, surprised. "What are you still doing up?"

She comes over as he shuffles off his shoes and starts pulling off his jacket.

"I couldn't sleep."

She blinks as she gets closer. She suddenly moves forward and leans into his space, bringing a hand to his forehead.

"Onii-chan. Your face is really red. Is this a fever?"

"Huh? What - no - I was just outside - "

"Ahh," Saki says with realization, not letting him finish. "You were talking to someone. It sounded like Emu-chan."

"It was." Tsukasa eases Saki's hand off his head, muttering, resigned. "She was all the way in the car. We'll definitely get complaints from the neighbors." 

"Just like any usual day then," Saki notes, looking at him quite pointedly. 

"I resent that," he grumbles. "It's not always me." 

She giggles.

She steps back.

"You must've had a good time with your friends. I'm glad."

"Yeah. It was fun."

He looks at her. 

She's still bundled in the pajamas she had wrapped herself in right after school when she had come home.

Her cheeks still look warm.

She had overworked herself slightly between her part time job, club duties and her earnest practice on her road to become pro.

She hadn't been able to go out with her friends when all was said-and-done because of it.

She was being careful. 

He should be relieved about it. 

He's not. 

He lets her usher him to join her couch, and he thinks to himself, despite Nene's words shared before: 

There are surely those who'd want to go back in time.

Not to good moments.

But to days of regret. 

To try and re-live them again.

| Tsukasa-kun, Merry Merrrrry Christmas!!!!! 

| Tsukasa. Merry Christmas

There are messages on Tsukasa's phone, days old.

Texts from his parents.

From Saki.

His friends.

His phone says early morning.

KAITO has temporarily gone. 

| Tsukasa-kun, Shii-chan and I made a wish for you at the shrine. The weather was bright and blue and clear despite the snow. I found a cute family of kittens hiding in the bushes along the path. When you're awake, I'll take you to them. One of the maidens has been looking after the litter. A tabby looks just like you! 

Blue-skies turned bluer. 

A breeze blows through the half-lifted window beside the bed, billowing its white curtains in and out.

It's the sound of wind; of faint activity outside the four walls of the room that settle in the depths of his head, a muted soundtrack, beneath the tempoed, placid beat of his own heart. 

| Senpai, Happy Holidays. Please recover safely and rest well. I'll wait with patience, even through the new year, for you to wake. We could re-visit the temple together. I found a cat you might like.

He scrolls through the messages with a slow thumb, processing each slower than the one before.

His mind works to sort them where they belong in the gaps of his memories of dates and days, where memories are absent; where those that exist, have been scattered out of place.

| Onii-chan, it's Christmas Eve. 

Saki's texts had been longer than Nene's.

Longer than Emu's, Shizuku's or Touya's.

Much longer. 

Like letters. 

| Can you believe it? It wound up snowing so much, we were barricaded indoors the house.

Mom and I ended up watching as dad battled his way through the window with a shovel before making his way to the front door to clear a path. By the time we managed to get into the car, it'd been an hour. Then he spent another fifteen minutes trying to pull open the car doors. They'd been frozen shut.

I kept watching, thinking that if you were with us, you'd be doing the same as him, not realizing mom and I had been standing with hot water bags at the ready to help.

A few days ago, I had called you a bunch. It was right after we bickered a bit, and you left the house. I was going to ask you to stay where you were. I'd come meet you. Then I'd apologize. And we'd eat out together since it was late, at that place you really enjoy by the mall. And we could check out those weekly deals at the embroidery store you always visit, if you hadn't already gone with Touya-kun.

We didn't get the chance. 

I'm sorry for calling you. 

You might've been able to walk home safely, right?

 
 
| Merry Christmas, onii-chan! You're fast asleep but mom and dad and I are right here beside you!

Dad keeps telling his ridiculous stories about his co-workers. I didn't think they were true, but then he pulled out pictures on his phone. He even went to show you before mom reminded him you wouldn't be able to see. He's been talking to you so much - and drawing these terrifying things.

They're supposed to be festive, but he's really bad at them, you know?

When you wake, you'll have to tell him.

That reminds me, we brought your favorite dessert.

 
 
| Today is the first day of the new year.

I know it seems silly writing to you much as if you'll never come back to us. But I can't help but remember when I was sick, and when I had to stay in hospitals far away from mom and dad and my friends. You texted me just like this, all about your day and the sorts of adventures you had.

I even remember that story about Endo.

When he stole your toy figure and you chased him and the both of you got stuck in a tree. You said mom scolded you. I shouldn't be laughing, but I am. The message you sent me that day was too funny, onii-chan. I saved it in my photos. It's been there for ages. I'll show you.

But my wish today, is that you'll get better. 
 

A knot in his throat.

Tsukasa sets his phone down on his stomach.

He doesn't finish reading the rest of what she's sent. All the parts of them. 

Not really.

For both their sakes.

Because he knows if he does, he'll never be able to stop wondering what it was she felt while she sat and typed those messages out.

Because once -

Once, in junior high, Tsukasa had stood in the kitchen of their house, cutting a melon apart with nimble, careful hands.

Saki had been beside him.

Their half-prepared bentos for the next day had been open before them on the counter.

He would've finished sooner, had Saki not been stealing every piece of melon he cut and giggling as she put it into her mouth.

"Saki," he had said, exasperated, biting back his complaint.

She had said something unintelligible, muffled, but highly mischievous, and had obediently allowed him to slice the remaining melon on the plate in between their lunchboxes.

He had picked the two best-looking pieces and allotted them into each bento, in its designated spot, perfectly aligned.

Saki had waited until he had taken a step back, pleased with himself.

Then she had reached into his bento and taken out the melon - eating it.

"Saki!"

He had looked at her, mortified.

She had grinned.

And he had fussed, looking over the plate of remaining fruit for a suitable piece that could replace the one lost.

Both still in uniform. Their parents hadn't yet come home.

"Mou, onii-chan," she had complained, eyes on the back of his head. "Do you have to be so precise?"

"Of course!" he had replied, eyebrows creasing; finding the next perfect slice of melon and putting it in his bento. "Aim for perfection in all! That's the number one rule!"

"Of what?"

"Of a lot of things."

"Like what?"

Tsukasa had looked at her, brows bunching.

His sister had looked back at him, her eyebrows equally bunched, sucking on her melon cut with a considerably more sour look than before.

"Onii-chan, if you can't answer the question, then you don't need perfection."

"What kind of logic is that?" he had asked.

"I'm saying you don't have to do everything 'right', you know."

"It's not such a bad thing to try to."

They had frowned at each other, silently squaring off.

But it was Saki.

After a passing minute, Tsukasa had deflated slightly, and resigned himself to her stubbornness.

"Alright, alright."

He had turned towards the counter and their bentos. He had reached into his own with a fork and purposefully changed the position of his fruit, making it crooked.

Tsukasa had looked at it.

He had looked away.

He had put his hands on his hips, raised his chin - and very resolutely - had refused to look back down.

"There. It's not perfect now."

Saki had watched him, waiting. "Uh-huh."

He had fidgeted.

His eyes had glanced down.

To her - to the bento - to the ridiculously, pointlessly, misplaced slice of melon.

Theatrically dramatic, entirely sincere, he had dropped his head and put his hands into his hair.

"Aaugh! It's impossible!" he had cried.

He had stabbed his fork into the fruit, taken it out, and put a third - a different cut - of melon, not so roughly-handled, in its place.

"What's the point of leaving something wrong when it can be so easily fixed?"

He had closed both the lids to their bentos afterwards.

Tied their handkerchiefs on.

Neatly.

He had shaken his head afterwards, sighing, worn-out, like he'd just run a marathon. 

"I'll never understand it," he muttered.

Saki had shaken her head in return.

"I'll never understand you, onii-chan. It's fruit. Once you eat it, it's going to be gone anyway. Does it really matter that much what it looks like?"

"It's not that," he had told her. "It might be gone eventually, but that doesn't mean it can't be a nice thing to enjoy beforehand. It's about the experience."

"The experience."

She had stared.

"Of the fruit."

"You don't have to look at me like I'm strange!"

"It is strange. When it's gone, it's gone."

"I know that. The fruit isn't the point - " he had started to refute.

Saki's face had gone blank.

"Nng. Nevermind. Forget about it."

He had given up, deflating over the counter.

"...It's nice to have nice things. That's all."

"Okay, okay." Saki had pat him on the back, olive branch of peace in her voice. "I got it, onii-chan, alright? Nice things are nice. No need to get upset."

He hadn't actually been upset.

That evening, slumped over the counter, eyes on their twin bentos; their shared plate of fruit - he had only thought to himself,

That Saki likely wouldn’t ever understand what he meant at all. 

~x~

The memory of that day is poignant.
 
Only now, he thinks he might have been wrong. 

In the hospital.

In the bed.

Sitting up, phone disregarded, Saki's calendar in his lap.

Held in his hands. 

Its two pages she had meticulously marked on his behalf from December to January.

The twenty-first to the third.

Eleven days.

It wasn't really a lot.

What was a lot, were they days marked previously in the months before.

It's a multi-year calendar.

It's his sister's history of hospitalization from her early time in junior high to her second semester at Miyamasuzaka Girls' Academy.

The days are crossed off.

April, May, June.

January, February, March.

September.

October.

Different weeks.

Different weekends.

She had doodled and decorated in the margins of passing time. As if it were something she enjoyed. As if it was something nice.

But it couldn't have been.

Something like having her youth and days taken from her, couldn't have been nice.

It was time she couldn't ever get back. 

He can't understand it.

Her calendar doesn't reflect it. 

The grief she must have felt.

The sense of loss.

He had known sometimes she'd try and hide it.

He had known sometimes she'd try and pretend. 

He thought he had known his sister well. 

But the weight in his chest is unbearable.

The dismay, the emptiness, the hate. 

Its asphyxiation is crushing.

It strangles him by the throat.

What had Saki truly felt, waking in a hospital, in a foreign bed, countless days over and over again, knowing she had lost something important - pieces of her own life - without a choice?

Beyond her own control? 

He's miserable thinking about it. 

Disappointed in himself. 

Upset. 

'When it's gone, it's gone.' 

Saki had told him. 

'It's not that I wouldn't be able to fix it. I would only wonder if it was worth it. Experiencing it again, just to have the same results.'

Nene had told him.

The one who hadn't understood a thing was him.

Of everything he'd been blessed with, it was stupidity that blessed him the most. 

He bows forward, forehead resting lightly on the old pages of his sister's calendar.

His back screams at him, like it's being broken, like it's being stepped on; crushed from two sides, piled onto and buckled beneath the furious weight of bricked cement.

It's fine.

He's Tenma Tsukasa.

He stubbornly ignores the existence of the four-lettered words 'pain' and ‘hurt’. 

He bites his tongue.

His eyes slide shut.

There is nothing in the entirety of the world that can bring him down.

He's resilient.

Undefeated.

He picks himself up faster than when he falls.

No injuries, no mistakes could keep him down.

So he missed the holidays.

So Christmas was gone. 

So he was here in a hospital.

What did it matter?

It didn't. 

It was a date on a calendar.

It'd come back again.

What was wrong with him? 

In comparison to this - whatever 'this' was - there was a sister of his who used to live day-by-day, day-to-day, unsure of her tomorrow. 

He huffs out a breath.

It shakes, uneven. 

He chides himself.

Don't be so pathetic.

It's the worst; the pain in him.

He trembles.

He'd rather be put back under.

 
He isn't.

There isn't anyone who comes back into the room.

He ends up staring at the ceiling, calendar returned to its place on the desk; ache in his back, in his waist; in his bones. 

Instead of Saki, he thinks of his parents' texts. 

The twin:

 |Tsukasa, Merry Christmas! 
 

With their stars and hearts.

Because all he can think of is apologies in response. Though a part of him thinks he's been apologizing to them forever, over things he doesn't remember.

Though a part of him thinks they've always told him not to, too. 

When they're home. When they're away. When he dreams. 

It hadn't been like that when he was younger. He knows this.

Only as he'd grown older.

As he'd grown with more regrets.

When he sees them, they won't want to hear a 'sorry'. 

Still...

He looks up at nothing, the breeze of morning on his cheek, the white of the ceiling without a crack.

They flew in home, and this was the first place they ended up being after months of us all cheerfully hoping to ourselves that here is where we wouldn't be. 

He closes his eyes. 

He sees an intersection, frightened faces, and snow.

He doesn't feel the hit.

He hears it. 

His eyes jerk back open.

He doesn't close them again. 

He brings the back of his hand to his brow and looks between the cracks of his fingers.

He swallows.

He breathes in.

"Tsukasa-kun?" 

His phone lights up briefly.

Len.

His small, bright hologram sits, cross-legged, and watches him with palpable concern.

"Are you alright?" 

"Len," Tsukasa says, stirring from his stupor. "Yeah. I'm fine. Is everything alright with you guys? You've been quiet."

"Everything's fine, on our end," Len chirps. "Um... well. Mostly."

Tsukasa frowns.

He sits up slightly, shoulders against his pillow, head raised, looking at Len properly - touched by worry.

"Mostly?"

"It's nothing serious. KAITO wanted to talk to you. MEIKO told him to give you time to rest; that you could use some privacy. KAITO wasn't so certain. She pulled him into a suplex before he could come out, then dragged him into a hold. There were a lot of cracking noises. They didn't sound normal. Miku and Rin were refereeing and when he hit the ground, Miku suddenly started hitting the grass and counting down. I think he tapped out afterwards, but it was hard to tell. He was lying pretty still. Luka took a nap next to him. So I came here to see you in his place."

Tsukasa stares.

"How is that nothing serious? Is he going to be okay?"

"Probably," says Len, not looking entirely convinced, though he holds a hand to his chin and blinks his big eyes in thought. "I guess it depends." 

"What? On what?" 

"The second round." 

"Why did a conversation between you guys turn into a wrestling match in the first place? There's no way KAITO can continue. It sounds like you've killed him."

"That's kind of what MEIKO said." 

"Even though she started it?" 

"She said, 'It looks like I've killed him. He probably can't continue'." 

"So nonchalantly! What exactly are you guys doing in the depths of my device!" 

A light knock on the door.

Tsukasa and Len both look over as it slides a smidgen open.

"Yoohoo," the familiar face of the brown-haired nurse from before sticks his head in. "I'm coming in with the doctor now Tenma-kun, so any 'video-game' friends of yours should be put away."

Tsukasa looks at him, confused. 

Len, however, seems to take it as a signal and vanishes at the speed of light.

The nurse winks at Tsukasa. "Great."

He straightens up then, adopting a very solemn expression and stepping aside. 

"Yamada-sensei," he introduces, gesturing the doctor in. "Tenma-kun."

"I'm aware of who he is, Kobayashi, what's the matter with you?" says the woman that walks through the door next.

Dark hair pulled high, tight in a bun. Hospital coat clean and white; spectacles silver, lightly chained.

Her features are stern.

They grow sterner as they land on Tsukasa.

A plastic cup of water is in her hand.

"Though I question the patient who spends his first thirty minutes awake playing video-games," she comments. 

The nurse closes the door and follows after her, further into the room, shaking his head. "Kids these day, am I right?"

His disappointment doesn't last for even a second.

"Well!" he perks up, hands settling on his waist, easy. "What can you do about it? That's the joy of youth."

The doctor observes Tsukasa as Tsukasa does his best to pretend he knows what's going on.

He doesn't need to pretend for long.

The doctor, Yamada soon makes the purpose of her visit, and the visit of her assistant nurse, Kobayashi, clear.

She introduces herself shortly as the lead doctor of the team assigned to his care.

"And how are you feeling? Any pain or nausea? Difficulty breathing?"

"N-No. None at all."

A single eyebrow of hers is lifted.

"None?"

"Er." Tsukasa's falters. "...My back... I suppose. Maybe there's a headache?"

She hands him the cup of water she'd been holding - followed by a small deposit of two pills.

He stares at them.

She stares at him.

He looks over at Kobayshi standing at the end of his bed.

He's given a thumbs-up.

"Perfectly safe, Tenma-kun."

Tsukasa swallows them down.

His doctor nods in curt satisfaction when he's done, and takes the cup from his hand, passing it off to the nurse. "Now then, Tenma-san. What do you recall?"

His mind goes a bit empty at the direct question. 

He blinks.

He answers as KAITO had.

As vaguely as possible.

"There was an accident." 

She tells him the details he didn't know. 

"You were fortunate you weren't hit head-on. The driver admitted to negligence. They'd been looking at their phone - missed the red light - and slid over ice on the road when they attempted to stop. Although the details of that involve other parties and authorities not of relation to your specific care under us." 

"Not to worry," Kobayashi speaks up, kindly. "Your parents have seen it largely resolved." 

"Eight fractured ribs," the doctor goes on.

Her expression stays neutral.

"Multiple contusions to the head. You underwent surgery to stop its inner bleeding. But still your body was unable to handle the additional trauma. You've had three surgeries in total. The last, two days ago, was to address complications of the second. Parts of the vehicle that struck you, namely its front and side, broke apart in the impact. Much of the right side of your body suffered deep wounds. Beneath your knee in particular."

She moves close.

"In the period of time you've been here, however, the stitches have already fallen out. I would expect some scarring." 

A device is removed from her front pocket, small and square. 

"The collision bruised your spine. Walking, indeed most movements of exertion, will cause discomfort and pain. It will be felt more intensely as the days pass and strength returns to you. That being said, full mobility in another few weeks is the optimistic assessment - given sufficient care and rest." 

A clip is settled, attached to his ear. 

"And no future attempts to escape through any windows."

Its weight is light. 

It feels heavy.

He's bamboozled by her words. "Um..." 

Kobayashi, ever the saint, helpfully explains.  

"Your fevers," the nurse says. "More than once, in their delirium, you dragged yourself from bed. It was hard to pinpoint when it was bouts of feverish sleepwalking or actual purposeful intents to leave in between bouts of lucidity. The idea of gathering snow really had a hold on you. We contemplated, at one point, relocating you to a room without a window. In the end, to save other patients the disturbance, you were placed in a private room instead. Where we are now. You seemed to settle on your own accord afterwards." 

"That is to say," his doctor carries on, with purpose, "you were brought to us with an immune-system already heavily compromised."

Her eyebrow lifts at a reading on the device she holds that Tsukasa can't see.

"After your first surgery, we began oxygen therapy. This was to assist in the aftermath of the procedure, but also to provide assistance to your body in combating its fever."

The clip is removed from his ear.

The device is wrapped and stowed away back in her front pocket.

"Although you appear to be able to sit with little trouble breathing now. Your levels are adequate. However there is no guarantee you won't encounter trouble later. In the event we do return to provide oxygen support before your discharge, please do refrain from removing its mask."

She looks at him extraordinarily dryly.

"It's for your benefit." 

He shrinks back slightly.

He nods. 

It's all he can do - given the overwhelming influx of information given of everything that had gone wrong with him.

Of everything that still had yet to heal. 

He feels like he's been terribly scolded. 

Like a kid. 

The doctor looks at him. 

She takes a calculated step away from him and the bed.

It's silent.

Then it's not. 

"I'm told you're active in theater."

He's thrown for a bit of a loop.

His voice returns from where it's stuck in the back of his dry throat.

"...Y-Yes. That's right." 

"He's great at piano too," says Kobayashi, like a natural number-one supporter. 

Tsukasa is thrown for a bigger loop.

He looks at the nurse, stunned.

Kobayashi looks back at him, lips quirking. 

"I've been to a few of your shows. Really quite the acrobat. Although I do wonder about your safety sometimes." 

Tsukasa stares at him.

The doctor looks at Kobayashi. 

She looks at Tsukasa afterwards, a sigh in her tone, resignation in her eyes - although it appears to be directly entirely towards the nurse with her, rather than Tsukasa himself.

Still, it's Tsukasa she speaks to.

"...Tenma-san, no human is invincible. We heal through the care of others and rest. I sincerely advise you not to push yourself beyond your limits should you wish to perform as you were before in the realm of theater."

She turns halfway towards the door, contemplatively.

"There's another patient I need to see. For now I'll leave you in Kobayashi's care. Kobayashi. The delivery is on the front desk. Don't let Yoshino slip from your mind." 

"Understood, Yamada-sensei," the nurse nods, smiling. "I'll be here, then there." 

The doctor gives Tsukasa one last look and nod.

Then takes her leave. 

Tsukasa watches her go.

Kobayashi watches her go.

When she's gone - when the door has closed once more - they pause.

And look at one another. 

Tsukasa's eyes go to the nurse's name-tag again.

After a moment he speaks.

The nurse seems to be waiting for it patiently.

"....Kobayashi...san." 

"Please. Call me Hiiro. Otherwise I'll feel like my father." 

Tsukasa's mouth bends. "...Hiiro-san," he says slowly, testing the name out, searching for any signs of familiarity in speaking it.

There's none.

But even so...

"You've been to my shows? You... already know who I am?" 

"It would be hard not to." Hiiro looks at him amused. He amicably taps his finger against his name plate; the characters for Kobayashi.

Kobayashi.

Tsukasa stares at the name for a time.

He nearly jumps when realization hits.

"That's - "

"Yes," Hiiro chuckles. "I believe she's in your class; the class representative. Kobayashi Yuzuki. She's my smallest, little sister. She comes home a lot mentioning the name Tsukasa Tenma."

Tsukasa doesn't register the words at first. When he does, he looks at Hiiro bewildered.

"She does? Why?"

"I wondered the same myself at first. I've tagged along to more than ten shows at the Wonder Stage she's gone to and sat in the back of, and your promotional show two hours away."

Hiiro shakes his head.

"It started when she came home with a DVD. Romeo: The Battle Royale - or something like that. I have to admit, it sounded like a B-Grade movie she had rented off a friend at first, but it turned out to be a legitimate product from your cultural festival you could pay money for."

"Sorry... Hiiro-san... Not to be rude. But do you really have to sound so amazed?" 

"It was amazing. I wasn't even sure what was going on. It was the best comedy I'd seen in a while." 

"It was a tragedy." 

Hiiro pauses.

He clears his throat. 

"....Regardless - a good work." 

He smiles. 

"Yuzuki is serious about a lot of things most kids her age aren't. Diligent, well-organized; endeavoring to do everything herself. I suppose it'd because of our parents, and the path my elder brother and I have chosen. We're a family of practitioners. Surgeons, doctors and nurses. My sister is studious, but she doesn't have an interest in the medical field, despite all insistence that she does. But a big brother can tell when their little sister is lying. I found the most fascinating set of books in her backpack months ago while I was packing a surprise lunch into it." 

His smile grows. 

"Books on theater and stage-plays. She was grouchy and stubborn about it when I asked her about it later. 'It just seems like fun, getting to do things like this with friends' is what she said." 

Tsukasa hadn't known that about her.

He'd had no idea. 

"Whew, you really are something special Tenma-kun, to get my sister to be a bit more honest about the things she enjoys," Hiiro compliments. "She'll be relieved to know you're awake."  

Hiiro looks at him. 

It's not unlike an older brother. 

"Although, if you'd like me to be honest myself, I knew of you before my sister took an interest in your performances."

Tsukasa blinks. 

"My father was the head of a particular children's hospital over the interstate," his nurse explains. "He retired a few years back, but I remember almost a decade ago when I was your age, hearing the name Tenma. If I'm not mistaken, you have a little sister too." 

Hiiro chuckles. 

"Who knew I'd be a part of Yamada-sensei's team and meet you in a twist of fate like this? Circumstances were unfortunate, but for what little it might be worth in an incident so grave like this, I'm glad you're okay and that we've had a chance to finally meet. It was touch-and-go for a while. We were worried. Yamada-sensei might not show it; we call her 'the knife' for a reason, but I know she was just as relieved when you safely pulled-through."

Tsukasa doesn't know what to make of it; hearing that.

Hearing all of it.

He feels he should say something in response.

But nothing will come. 

Hiiro doesn't seem like he's expecting anything, however. 

It's understanding on his face - and a note of something more. 

Somber. 

"Tenma-kun, I believe you are resilient to a great many things others are not. What Yamada-sensei said was true. You'll have a full recovery. But accidents take time. Not just physically. You'll remember it. Maybe in pieces. Your body will too. There are triggers. It could be situational. It could be words." 

Tsukasa's hand twitches over his bedsheets.

Steel and impact flash and thunder behind his eyes. 

He can remember it with clarity, the face and hands of a kouhai - glass and ice.

In all their time together, he and Akito had never exchanged numbers. 

How was he supposed to know - if Akito was okay?

Hiiro looks at him.

"...You won't need to think on it alone. Tenma-kun, there is a support system here at your side; home with your family. Your parents asked for resources and we've provided them suitable contacts. Don't force yourself. But if you need to, even for a moment, don't hesitate to speak to a confidential third party on the trauma. I ask as nurse-to-patient that you don't deny yourself that healing."

Tsukasa hesitates.

When he nods, it's with thoughts on the accident that come and go and are dismissed and ignored.

He hadn't thought on it because he hadn't wanted to.

Because he couldn't.

His mind wouldn't let him. Only in pieces - as Hiiro had said.

His shoulders slump the smallest bit.

Manners move him to address it. 

"...Thank you, Hiiro-san. I'll... do my best to take care of myself." 

"That's all I ask for."

Hiiro's brows furrow, exasperatedly kind.

"Tenma-kun. It wasn't any trouble. Please don't ever view it or yourself as a burden." 

It's the second time between them Tsukasa nods without words. 

Hiiro nods back - and turns partially towards the door of the room.

"....We notified your family when you woke. I believe they'll be making their way here as soon as they're able. In the meanwhile, how do you feel about a change of clothes and wash to the face?"

He isn't sure about it.

He steels himself anyway.

Tsukasa, guided to the edge of his bed with help, feet pressing light against the floor, gazes down at the plastic, see-through bag on his lap and in his hands. 

"You parents brought it the first day of your admission though visiting hours were over and it was the middle of the night. They said when you woke, wearing clothes from home might bring you comfort. It wasn't known at the time, when you'd wake from the surgery. We kept it for them here at their behest." 

Tsukasa holds the bag in his bandaged fingers. 

His features crumple. 

With warmth and bursting love and fear - so much - it's suffocating. 

The first thing his parents had thought of when they landed was him... was it? 

I really am troublesome. 

"You were given a sponge-bath yesterday," Hiiro mentions casually, moving about the room, finding a remote by the charts on the wall, and coming back to him. "If you'd like, and you're up for it, we can get you in the wheelchair and take you to the shower there."

He indicates to a door that had been on the wall opposite from Tsukasa's bed all along - never noticed by Tsukasa himself.

"The movement will be jarring and cause significant discomfort, but I'm here to lend assistance if need be."

Tsukasa thinks of the idea of going through the motions involved in a shower when even moving to sit as he was, where he was, had sent him vibrating in agony.

Every part of him protests in phantom pain at the thought.

His head aches.

"I... think I'll pass," he says, uncertainly. "Changing should be fine."

Changing is not fine.

Hiiro had left to give him privacy after setting a remote with bed controls and a call button beside his pillow.

He'd also been shown and given the alternative to the wheelchair, for small standing and short distance travel. 

A crutch. 

It's only when he's managed to wrangle half of a big, old, dark T-shirt over his head with bleach and faded paint stains, does he remember he had completely forgotten to ask Hiiro why he could see his Virtual Singers again.

He's also otherwise preoccupied.

And in a godly amount of pain.

White-knuckled, shaking, drained and seized by terrible bone-deep, stinging aches, he leans half-against the bed with his offered crutch under his right arm; sloppily.

It somehow manages to hurt his shoulder worse. 

He can't imagine doing shows like this. 

He can't imagine doing anything. 

No.

But the doctor, herself, had told him it'd be a few weeks. He just needed to have patience.

By the time he finishes wrestling himself into his own clothes; pale shorts to socks - he's ready to lie down and never get back up again. 

He doesn't lie down.

He hunches, lopsidedly, and looks down at the shirt that doesn't fit him right.

It's not his after all.

It's Rui's.

His parents must've grabbed what looked most comfortable from his drawer of never-to-be-seen-outside-with clothes, next to his nightwear.

It wasn't anything nefarious.

Just the result of a night spent in Rui's garage of a room before one of their weekend shows, painting a backdrop for 'outdoor scenery' that turned into a fight with buckets and pails and trash bags splayed across the floor and pieces of mechanical creations. 

His only current thoughts are that with a shirt without long sleeves, he won't be able to hide the small scars of his arms; the bandages; the remnants of the stitches. 

He would've rather his parents not see them. 

But.

He supposed his parents have already seen him at his worst. 

He supposes everyone must’ve. 

He adjusts how he stands, marginally. Lightning-fire pain zings through his body from head-to-toe. He keels over the crutch, nearly bent in half, folded before the bed his other hand flails out to clutch at the sheets of. 

It's not that bad, he tells himself.

"Come on," he says aloud, gritting his teeth, the air punched from his lungs. "This is nothing."

He hears Miku before he sees her hologram flicker to life on his phone on the dresser. 

"Hiiro-kun said to use the call button if you need help, Tsukasa-kun," she frets. 

"It's fine," he huffs at the floor and bedsheets. "I don't need it." 

"You look super bent out of shape!"

"I'm not super bent out of shape. I'm taking a breather!" 

"Stubborn!" Miku stomps her foot. Her hands go to her hips. "Fine. I'm going to get the others to help me work it." 

"No, don't - " He lifts his head, dizzy, looking around the bed as his vision pulls acrobatic stunts without his permission. "Geez - where is it?" 

"By the pillow!" Miku helps. 

His fingers blindly search. They wrap around the remote.

He grabs it secure. 

He flings it over his shoulder, without looking, towards the door. 

"There! No need for it."

"Tsukasa-kun!" Miku protests. 

"Ow-!" someone else yelps. 

It's not his mother or his father or his sister.

Miku looks towards the door- then disappears at the speed of light. 

Tsukasa fumbles around, clumsily, on his crutch startled. 

He does a double-take. 

He lurches forward, almost stumbles, hears his own body shriek at him in agony - and does everything - ears ringing - in his power, not to vomit on the floor. 

There's something significantly more important.

The mark on Shousuke's forehead.

The thrown-remote in his hand.

The eyes, not on Tsukasa, but on Tsukasa's phone, on the dresser.

Turtleneck and blazer.

Shousuke. 

Shousuke looks at Tsukasa, and Tsukasa looks at him, and they look at one another in silence.

Looking. 

"...Oi," says Emu's brother after a long, long time. "Was that Hatsune Miku?"

"Um," Tsukasa answers faintly. "....I don't think so."

His phone flickers to life. 

Miku reappears, protest on her face.

She's quickly snatched out of sight by a familiar arm in a striped pantsuit. 

Utter silence. 

Tsukasa weakly laughs in it.

"That was.... that was certainly strange."

Shousuke stares.

Tsukasa bends over and doesn't quite stand back up.

"...Please forget you saw that."

Chapter Text

The room is quiet - but for a moment.

Tsukasa sits by the bed, by the dresser, its gifted vase, winter flowers, Saki's calendar; his phone, in the wheelchair Shousuke had helped him fumble into.

Emu's brother sits at a short distance, on the bedside chair.

Sitting and looking at Tsukasa, who looks at him in turn.

"...Sorry," says Tsukasa - after a considerable length of time, both for the prolonged silence and the remote to the face. "I wasn't expecting to see you.”

He coughs, throat scratching, voice cracking.

”Or - anyone, that soon."

He continues to sit for a second more, hinging on the next words, trying to figure out how to say them without it sounding rude.

"Er... what are you doing here?"

"You have some way of welcoming others," Shousuke tells him, staring at him.

They don't address the bigger elephant in the room.

The hologram of the Virtual Singer.

Miku.

"I was already here. This is about the usual time we'd been visiting before. We didn't know you were awake. They mentioned it when we arrived."

We?

Tsukasa echoes the question aloud.

"My brother," says Shousuke. "Your troupe."

Tsukasa hears what Shousuke says.

He hears it, without acknowledgement, before acknowledgement comes.

"...They're here?"

"Yeah. My brother is likely asking details on your condition for future consideration. He's the sort to gather facts before making an appearance. Don't mind it."

"Oh. No problem," Tsukasa says.

Inside his chest, thuds his heart, loudly once.

Inside, there's a hand that squeezes it tight.

It's unexpected - hearing that.

A bit off - too sudden.

A part of him thinks - of course they're there.

After everything they'd done; who they were; their travels; defeats and triumphs - of course they were. Why wouldn't they be?

He had seen their texts.

Of course they would've come to see him in the hospital too, if they could.

If anything had happened to them, he'd be there in a heartbeat, to do the same.

His troupe. 

That's Nene.

Emu.

It's Rui who stands across from him in an empty park, surrounded by the white of snow, telling him words he doesn't want to hear. 

You're not well.

You won't accept it.

Because you're selfish. Because you're selfless.

Because you cling to the past.

You run away. 

There are words in Tsukasa's ears.

'I don't want to see you'. 

An expression on Rui's face.

Hurt.

Right.

That's right... Tsukasa thinks, looking from Shousuke; looking down at his injured hands that hold his crutch loosely half in his lap, half on the ground.

He smiles to himself small.

Troubled.

Self-deprecating.

He'd said some pretty terrible things without getting to apologize.

And this was where he had wound up.

What a handful for Rui. As always...

But if he'd been visiting with everyone else - then the lack of message from him earlier, was probably just - 

Tsukasa shifts and looks up from the ground and his feet and base of the crutch that rests beside them, to meet Shousuke's gaze properly.

"...Are they alright? Everyone, I mean?"

He hesitates.

"It seems like it's not enough to ask it. But..." 

He wants to see them.

He wants to see their faces.

Hear their voices.

That comfort.

The familiarity.

That home within a home of a home.

His feelings. It's a yearning.

A need for the grounding of earth beneath his feet, grown with flowers and blossomed seeds of months and months of camaraderie.

Knees in the dirt.

Palms in the grass.

They joke and laugh and argue and rest.

On their backs.

The sky is endless.

The sky is blue.

Clouds shape dreams distant and near above their heads.

Their hands, left on their own, find their way to one another; to each other.

They hold on.

They don't let go.

It doesn't matter what's happened; what will happen, whether they know what's going on.

Whether he knows what's going on.

Everything is alright, when they're together. 

Because he loves them.

This is simply fact.

"They're fine," says Shousuke as Tsukasa’s heart sounds in his ears. "They'll be better seeing you." 

A taken moment.

Shousuke's gaze wanders off briefly for a time.

A hand rises, and scratches at the back of his neck, before easing into a rub - before that hand stills.

His gaze keeps away.

He speaks to the floor.

"Well. I won't lie. They were awfully worried. There was little my brother or I could do from our end except try and offer some measure of support. I'm not as well-equipped to deal with - I mean - oversee the care of high-schoolers in distress. I regret that, at least."

His eyes shift back to Tsukasa.

His hand lowers.

"We heard of the accident the second day of your admission. Emu told us. Nene had called her. She didn't believe it at first. She had thought you had pulled a stunt in the street and gave yourself a small injury - slipped on ice. Or maybe she had understood it, but spoke of it otherwise, as if it would be enough to make it a reality over the other. When we came to see you, later that day, with Nene, it was...difficult. She had entered the hospital insisting she'd sit and stay by your side for however long it took for you to get better. But."

Shousuke's eyes rest on him.

"...You weren't well. You were in a great deal of pain. When she saw you, I think the truth of the situation hit her. In the end, she was the first to leave. Just a few minutes later after making a few attempts to speak with you. Did the doctors tell you anything, about how you were before you woke today?"

"They said..."

Tsukasa's mouth is thick.

The joy in his heart depleted.

Heaviness on his worn shoulders.

On his dully aching back.

"I wasn't very lucid."

"No. You weren't."

It's a complicated expression that comes to Shousuke then.

A minor frown.

A crease of the brow.

A keenness in his eyes.

"You asked about a 'SEKAI'. If it was 'okay'. You asked - "

Shousuke shakes his head.

"No - more like begged - for help with it. Something about how you should 'go'. My brother and I couldn't figure out what you meant. You collapsed shortly after, out of bed, with injury and burning fever. When we returned home, Emu locked herself into her room and didn't come back out."

Tsukasa's heart aches.

SEKAI. 

So he had mentioned it.

He can't look Shousuke in the eye.

"She made an appearance the next morning with an apology and demand. She insisted we go back. She brought her phone and a spare device to your bedside and turned on some kind of game. I stepped from the room to give her privacy and grab a snack from the vending machine, but when I returned, she wasn't there. So I went and took a look outside to see if I had missed seeing her walk out. There was suddenly a noise."

Something falls into Shousuke's voice.

Something that makes Tsukasa look up at him.

In dubiety. 

"Emu was back in the room, in the chair, her phone in hand."

Shousuke's eyes are unblinking.

"I saw Hatsune Miku."

Tsukasa stares.

"Not just Miku," Shousuke tells him. "There were others. Like the ones we saw on that night at the park with Mr. Riley."

There's a distinct lack of thought in Tsukasa's suddenly blanking mind.

The conversation deviates from Emu, into uncharted territory.

"...Do you mind explaining that?" says Shousuke.

"...Explaining what?" says Tsukasa.

"Why my sister disappeared and reappeared like a wizard and put a bunch of talking holograms on your chest."

Tsukasa keeps on staring.

So does Shousuke.

"It caused the machine monitoring your heart to short-circuit and flat-line. I was under the impression for the briefest of seconds, that Emu had killed you. The day before Christmas Eve."

"A-Ah," says Tsukasa. "That would be. Because."

He moves his foot slightly forward off the rest of the wheelchair, onto the floor.

It doesn't take much to feign a sudden bout when it feels like lightning's just ripped through half his body and soul.

He flinches and winces and hisses through his teeth, crutch in his grip, slipping in the uncontrollable twitch of his hand.

"S-Sorry," he apologizes to Shousuke, who quits the line of questioning to grab the wayward crutch and move off his seat to assist him.

”Geez. Don’t scare me kid.”

"I'm... okay," Tsukasa gets out, voice a tad higher, crumpling back feebly into the corner of the wheelchair, only quarter-acting through the bout of weakness.

It gives his scrambling mind the precious seconds of time he needs.

He regains his bearings.

He offers Shousuke a sheepish glance.

Concerned.

Playing the wheezing fool.

"A-About that. What you probably saw. It was just a prototype."

"A prototype?"

Shousuke observes him, half-listening, more eyeballing Tsukasa's condition much more attentively than the topic at hand.

"Of what?"

"You know. Since that day of the show in the park. R-Rui had been working on making that sort of thing accessible outside of the park's projectors. H-He's been letting us test it out."

Tsukasa lifts an arm of his own and rubs the back of his neck with discomfort and acceptance of that discomfort, with a focus on what was most important before him now.

"If Emu disappeared out-of-the-blue, she could've been beneath the bed. Right?"

Shousuke's eyes slant.

A gruffness touches his face as the lines of tension over Tsukasa's health ease away.

"I think I would've noticed if she was under the bed."

"You looked?"

"No, I didn't look."

"Then she was there."

"Why are you so certain about that?"

"Because that's what she does for some reason when it comes to me."

Tsukasa frowns, this time being entirely truthfully, if not absently so in ruminating remembrance.

"Under my desk. In the bushes by the stage. One time she dug a hole and hid herself beneath a bunch of clutter just so she could jump out and shout at me as I passed on my way home from school. She's good at not being seen when she doesn't want to."

Shousuke frowns even deeper.

As if reliving his own fair share of experiences at his sister's hands.

"...That's true enough."

His mouth twists into a particularly sour scowl.

"...I'll never forget the day she came out of the fridge," he utters.

"Huh? Why was she in the fridge?"

"It was my birthday."

It explained nothing - and everything.

"That’s… really just like her,” Tsukasa resignedly says.

Shousuke sighs in response.

Heavily.

He leans back in the bedside chair himself, arms folding as he regards Tsukasa in moderation.

"...An invention of that kid, huh? That's the story we're going with?"

Tsukasa straightens, brows furrowing, in alarm.

"What do you mean? That's - that's the truth!"

"I hope you're more convincing to any others who find out."

Shousuke's eyes narrow.

A calm breeze from the window shifts between them.

"No - I'll take that back. I don't even care to think about it. Emu tried to explain it to me, but halfway through she stopped speaking and started drawing diagrams and communicating the concept of this 'SEKAI' with sound effects and gestures instead. Reasonably, I gave up. As long as it's not the park bursting into flames, you kids can do what you want."

He holds a second of silence, looking at Tsukasa directly.

Gravely.

"Just don't tell Keisuke."

"Don't tell me what?"

Tsukasa and Shousuke jump - and scream.

Keisuke smiles at them both, arms crossed, relaxed, standing just a foot behind his brother's seat.

"You were so focused on your conversation. I knocked, but you didn't seem to hear me come in," he says. "Tsukasa, you're looking much better. Were you talking about the 'SEKAI' just now?"

Tsukasa's mouth opens, moving, heart racing, no sound escaping.

Shousuke turns in the chair, halfway, stammering.

"A-Aniki...! You need to start knocking louder. Anyway, we were just talking about his health - "

"And the SEKAI," Keisuke notes. "It's fine if you were."

His gaze moves past his brother and falls on Tsukasa lightly.

"Emu explained it quite clearly."

"What part of that explanation she gave was coherent?" Shousuke mutters beneath his breath.

"I'm impressed with the abilities of your troupe," Keisuke says to Tsukasa, unbothered. "That Rui was able to create an entire faux wonderland in the image of our park. Technology has come a long way. I hope one day we'll be able to see this simulated world for ourselves. Though Nene has taken the time to inform me that what exists now is only a visual schematic programmed into your devices for the potential purpose of future shows like the one we were fortunate enough to share with Mr. Riley."

Keisuke chuckles.

Tsukasa looks at Shousuke who looks right back at him.

Shousuke looks at his older brother after.

"R-Right. That's right, aniki."

He plasters on a smile, so bright and fake, it's horrendously crooked.

Tsukasa cringes when he sees it.

He cringes more when Shousuke shifts the smile onto him.

"Man, we should've figured something like Virtual Singers and holograms were feasible in this day and age. Especially with that kid's past of breaking into our sound and security systems, tech support and those flying drones."

Keisuke nods at Shousuke approvingly.

"Indeed. The robots and gadgets and special effects we've been privy to, look to be just the tip of the iceberg on his talents. I'd love to see what more could be done."

His attention returns to Tsukasa, warmly.

"You've found yourself a capable troupe mate and director. We're lucky to have him."

Tsukasa knows.

He sends out a silent rush of thanks towards Nene, wherever she may be, for covering Emu's tracks.

He doesn't know what to do about Shousuke.

He doesn't know how much Shousuke knows, versus how much Shousuke's choosing to pretend doesn't exist.

He counts it a blessing, for once, that Emu's brother let the realities of adulthood erase the possibilities of magic from his mind's acceptance.

He asks to both brothers, to double-check:

"...Did Rui happen to say anything else on matter?"

The false livelihood - thankfully - leaves Shousuke's face, replaced by a lifted brow, and expression of mild puzzlement.

His head cants to the side, the same time as Keisuke's, as Keisuke's own smile is replaced by thoughtful consideration.

It brings a slow to Tsukasa's own countenance.

A sudden feeling of uncertainty.

”…He hasn’t?”

"Rui?" says Keisuke. "...I'm afraid I wouldn't know. I haven't had the chance to speak to him directly since our last meeting."

Tsukasa's eyebrows knit, confused.

"Didn't he visit with you guys?"

To Shousuke:

"You said they're here with you now. Everyone."

"Emu and Nene are with us," Shousuke answers. "Rui never tagged along, although Emu made a point to reach out to him every time."

For a moment, Tsukasa sits there.

Keisuke and Shousuke wear mirroring expressions of mulled thought.

They share a glance with one another.

Shousuke's face gets disgruntled.

Keisuke's, one of deliberation.

It's Tsukasa, Keisuke addresses next.

"I don't believe it's our place to interfere in the middle of personal business. We’re your employers first and foremost.”

It’s concern Keisuke wears.

”…However, there was a message Nene relayed to us on his behalf when we drove to pick her up the first time. 'I appreciate the offer. It's best if not'. He's maintained that stance even until now. I believe it was further explained, 'I'm likely the last person he'd want to see'. We did ask if something had happened, but your friends didn't want to speak on it. As such, we thought it best not to pry."

There's cotton in Tsukasa's head and ears.

Silence on his tongue.

At a loss for words.

Unable to find them.

His hand tightens on the crutch Shousuke had returned to him.

His teeth grind.

He starts to try and stand.

Keisuke's arms unfold.

Shousuke's brows fly high. “Hey, easy - !”

He gets to his feet, hastily, hands hovering over Tsukasa's shoulders, ready to force him back down.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Tsukasa stays half-risen, the effort of the stance, making his teeth grind harder; making him quake.

He looks up at Shousuke from beneath his hair, eyes blazing.

"You haven't seen him since?"

His voice is low.

"You haven't heard even a word past the ones he gave? Did no one think to check on him past Nene's message?"

Shousuke's brows grow pinched in bewilderment.

"Now look - we weren't going to go breaking into someone's house or stick our heads through the window - "

"Why not?"

"Because it's a crime - sit down - "

"Then take me to see him!"

"Ha? Now I know you're having some sort of strange reaction," Shousuke says incredulous. "We'll get the nurse - H- Hey -!"

His hands on Tsukasa's shoulders wrangle him back to sitting in the wheelchair as Tsukasa makes an attempt to get back up again.

He looks behind him, annoyed.

"Aniki, a little help - "

"You’re right. We should have checked him," says Keisuke, gazing at Tsukasa.

Tsukasa stops at the blatant admission.

"Perhaps it was a careless oversight not to. We were under the impression giving him space was best. He is a valuable member of your team and close friend. Your accident would have affected him greatly. Shousuke. Why don't we make a trip?"

"What? Right now?"

"Once Emu has seen him. At the very least, we would be able to speak with Rui's parents."

Keisuke continues to gaze at Tsukasa, calmly, voice at-ease.

"Would that be alright with you? I would like it if you stayed here, however, rather than put any further strain on yourself. I'll gladly report back to you our findings."

Tsukasa's legs tell him to go.

A knot is throat; returned.

The weight in his chest is a pound of a pound of stubborn resilience.

It hurts to swallow.

It's a pain to inhale through teeth and mouth. To agree.

"If that's... what you think is best. ...Sorry for the trouble."

He scowls at the ground.

"None at all," Keisuke responds. "...In the meantime. Tsukasa."

Tsukasa reluctantly raises his head.

It's a bit hard to focus on the man beyond Shousuke, but he manages.

Keisuke offers the smallest smile.

"Regarding the Wonder Stage, and your shows."

Tsukasa speaks on auto, despite the conflict in his heart, the frustration on his face; the discontent in his voice.

"I'll heal soon enough. And be ready to perform. With everyone."

"It's duly noted. But."

Keisuke's head makes a movement of a shake.

Understanding.

Telling.

"We're in no rush. Our primary focus, indeed the focus of many around you, is simply your recovery."

Tsukasa's expression furrows, in a minor lack of comprehension.

"Your audiences won't know of your accident," says Shousuke, finally moving back and away from Tsukasa.

If not with a degree of exhaustion and grievance.

He shuffles to stand more comfortably next to his older brother.

"Still, we imagine in the coming weeks as adaptions and accommodations are made to the stage and Wonder Stage performances, they'll have some speculations and wonders."

"I spoke with the doctor before stopping in," shares Keisuke. "She informed me we shouldn't expect you at full capacity until at least the end of your second month from release. That moves us into spring." 

That's too long, Tsukasa thinks.

"That's fine with us," Keisuke says. "We're here to support your troupe and your stage however we can. And to support you, yourself, as well. Do what you can. Don't push yourself. We'll be there to monitor the performances of your troupe here-and-there, and gauge audience reaction, along with your own measure of comfortability. I don't see a reason for us to interfere otherwise in the creation of your productions. So long as our occasional presence won't disturb you."

It's not what Tsukasa expects.

"But... our role as ambassadors... The stages - "

His mind works in recall.

"The ones we talked about before the holidays?"

"Were preliminary," Keisuke confirms. "In consideration for the spring. It wasn’t particularly urgent. I had just been thinking of getting a head start and taking you and Rui to see the theater halls and venues for yourselves. I did mention it at the time of our discussion in the storehouse. It looked like you were lost in thoughts about it back then, but now I can see you must not have been feeling well at that time either."

Keisuke's smile turns apologetic.

"I'm sorry we didn't notice."

"It's not..." your fault, Tsukasa thinks.

His troupe walks him home.

They give him a coat and hat and scarves.

His eyes go to his lap.

To his crutch.

He loses the last of his energy. The last of his will.

Rui calls him by name.

He asks to walk him home.

Tsukasa tells him no.

"...You couldn't have known,” Tsukasa says aloud.

It's not their fault.

His shoulders hunch.

Small.

It's not anyone's fault. But his own.

The shirt on him is too big.

The shirt on him is -

Rui, he thinks, biting the corner of his lip hard enough to bleed. 

Where is your head at, right now? Where are you? Why didn't I stop and talk to you proper?

His head lowers further.

Sinking in swelling anger.

Why am I always -

A hand on the crown of his hair.

It's steady.

Kind.

Comforting.

"What are you thinking about, I wonder."

Keisuke.

The cadence of ease in his tone brings back abruptly what Tsukasa has let slip away from him.

Security.

"The past has happened. There's no need to let it hold us. Nor is there a need to look ahead and worry about what should be done next. What's important is the present, wouldn't you say?"

It's a gently-given inquiry.

"It's alright to sit for a time. It's alright to take the time. You have it."

Keisuke steps away.

He crouches down, considerate, warmhearted light in his eyes.

"Regardless what's happened, I'm sure those you're thinking about feel the same as us."

He thumbs the slipping tear from the corner of Tsukasa's eye.

"Indisputable happiness - that you're here."

Keisuke's thumb isn't enough to catch the silent grief that shakes from Tsukasa's eyes after.

He'd be mortified if he had it in him to feel anything but terrible.

Unworthy of even basic support.

For his idiocy.

Keisuke looks over his shoulder and speaks to Shousuke - who looks like he doesn't know whether to disappear into a void or help as Tsukasa's sight violently blurs.

"Shousuke. The tissues you've been carrying."

Shousuke pats the front of his blazer down before finding the package of tissues stowed inside.

They're Phoenix Wonderland themed.

Meant for kids.

Covered in cheerful caricatures of the park's mascots.

Tsukasa looks at them as they're passed from Shousuke, to Keisuke, to him.

He looks at them.

And he looks at Shousuke after.

Shousuke, for all his age, pulls a sulking face.

Embarrassed.

"They were for Emu," he gets out. "You don't have to look at me like that."

Tsukasa uses them.

And wipes his eyes with his arm and bottom of his shirt so hard he's sure his eyes are twice are swollen and red.

Keisuke pries the crumpled tissues from Tsukasa's curled fingers, unfazed, and goes to put them in the trash can on the other side of the dresser as Shousuke stares down at Tsukasa like Tsukasa's an abomination to the earth.

"What was the point of tissues if you were going to cover your shirt in snot anyway?"

Tsukasa looks down at himself, in protest.

Undoubtedly offended.

"W-What? I would never! I've only drenched it in my tears!"

"I'm amazed you can say that so seriously," Shousuke replies, resigned. "You're one of a kind."

"Certainly," Keisuke agrees, coming back over.

They stand side-by-side, and Tsukasa gazes at the pair of siblings.

The brothers he had been ready to fight the first time they'd all met. Without regards for the consequences.

It was fury he'd felt then.

It's unashamed gratitude he feels now.

These two brothers - who - really - seemed as if they never went one place without the other.

Noon.

The sun that shines on his back through the window is warm.

There's a realization Tsukasa has in it.

In thinking on Shousuke's actions and behavior throughout all the time they've known each other.

After a poignant moment of silence where all Tsukasa does is look at them, Shousuke warily speaks.

"...What's with the look?"

"...Sorry," says Tsukasa. "I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"You."

Shousuke blinks. "Me?"

"You really care about protecting what's important to your big brother, don't you?"

"What?"

Shousuke chokes on the word - then sputters.

Flustered.

Taken aback. 

Keisuke chuckles as his brother burns red in abasement.

"Ah, that's right. He's always been like this, even when we were kids, vowing to keep at my side. When Hinata and Emu were born, he clung to me more. They must've intimidated him."

"Aniki - !"

"We're brothers and work partners," Keisuke smiles, completely unconcerned by Shousuke's small conniption beside him. "I think it's fine. I couldn't ask for anyone more reliable."

“Oi. We're leaving. This conversation is over,"

Shousuke stalks for the open door of the room, shoulders raised to his neck, hassled.

"You don't ever worry about upsetting one another?" Tsukasa asks Keisuke, who stays standing where he is in front of him. "About disagreements?"

"If we disagree, we'll talk about it. Although Shousuke has a tendency against honesty when it comes to my ideas. He likes to be supportive. But it can be to a fault when I'd like to hear his true feelings."

"Hey!"

Shousuke's voice rises from the door, cracking a little.

"When did this turn into a session about me? Aniki, let's go." 

Keisuke stays at Tsukasa's beside for a second longer, smile less teasing, genuine towards Tsukasa.

"...Don't let us hog up the rest of your time. You must be feeling tired."

Only a little.

But somehow, that strength Tsukasa felt he'd lost within himself, has begun to seep back into his blood.

"It was good to see you," Keisuke tells him, sincere. "Make sure you rest. The mascots of the park and our family will be waiting for you, when you're ready."

Tsukasa gazes up at him.

He nods.

Keisuke offers a light nod back.

He turns his head towards Shousuke and the door - and says:

"Emu. Will you keep waiting outside?"

Tsukasa spooks at the question, bewildered.

He follows Keisuke's eyes.

Past Shousuke; past Shousuke's jacket - sure enough - there's a glimpse of pink hair right out of view.

But in sight.

His heart is back in him.

A flicker.

A flutter of affection.

He'd forgotten for a good while, that the brothers hadn't come alone.

"...Emu?"

"...It's not me," her voice says.

Wobbling.

"It's not you," Tsukasa echoes.

A smile hedges at the corner of his lips of their own volition.

It's fond.

"Your brothers are right here, you know. They said your name."

Shuffling.

"Then they shouldn't have given me away."

Keisuke heads for the door, laughing gently beneath his breath.

"Shousuke and I will take our leave," he says. "Where did Nene go?"

"The vending machine."

And Emu pokes her head through the door, cheeks red, eyes huge, mouth bent into a deep frown.

Keisuke drops a hand onto her head before exiting into the hall. "Alright. We'll be downstairs and outside in the courtyard. Take however long you need."

She sidles into the room - and stays by the door.

Shousuke gives Tsukasa one last look before taking his leave too.

His drifting, muffled words in his departure can be heard.

"Aniki. You didn't have to embarrass me."

"Were you embarrassed?" comes Keisuke's airy response. 

"Sorry, I couldn't tell."  

"You're messing with me - "

It's Tsukasa - and Emu - on their own.

Emu, in a sweater and sweats, short hair twisted in small buns, bangs pushed back by a vibrant, patterned headband.

Shadows beneath her eyes.

She hadn't been sleeping.

"Emu," says Tsukasa when a minute has passed. "...Why were you hiding?"

"I wasn't hiding. I was letting my big brothers speak."

"Really? It looks like hiding to me."

"You were wrong."

"You're going to stay by the door?"

"No."

But she does.

He'd like to stand and go to her.

He stays where he is, seated in his wheelchair.

The smile on his lips helplessly grows.

"...Hey. Emu. It's alright, you know."

He adjusts the crutch his holds to rest between his legs, against a shoulder.

He lets his hands open on his knees, palms resting out - in silent gesture.

"I'm not going to break."

She stands still and looks at him.

Her mouth purses.

Her eyes shine.

They fill. With big, huge swelling tears that stubbornly refuse to fall.

The shaking of her hands he had noticed from the time she had walked in, visibly tremble worse.

"Tsukasa-kun."

Her voice is the quietest it's ever been.

"Tsukasa-kun," she says again, a little louder, voice breaking.

Her head drops back.

She cries aloud.

"You're really, finally awake!"

"Whoa!" Tsukasa exclaims, taken aback. "Emu! You're too loud -"

She runs to him.

He yelps, lurching zero-point-five centimeters backwards in the confines of his chair, braces himself for a reckless belly flop or crashing tackle of horribly, violent pain.

But it never comes.

His hands are gathered.

He cracks open his eyes.

Emu, before him, cradles his hands in her own, beaming brightly, as tears curve endlessly down her cheeks, off her chin, onto his knees.

"I was worried," she says, simply.

He gazes at her - startled.

Quiet sits the six inches of space between them.

Quiet sits for longer.

There had been a day they met.

When Tsukasa had resisted her company; her antics.

When her enthusiasm bled suffering into his ears.

When he signed an autograph and threw it in her face before walking off.

There had been a day when he had shouted out angry words, tearing apart their team, tearing apart Emu's dream for the Wonder Stage right before her eyes.

There had been a bleeding reconciliation on a Ferris Wheel, a park of lights beneath them, a suffocation of feelings, in the setting eve.

A promise.

She lets go of his hands.

He reaches out.

It's unclear which of them hugs the other first.

He stares into the shoulder of her sweater.

"I'm sorry," he tells her.

His brows lower.

His hands grip harder, though the effort hurts.

Odd.

His eyes are burning.

He's aching again.

"Sorry," he repeats.

Because Emu had never once asked for apology or looked at Tsukasa as if his past actions needed forgiving.

Every time, she had accepted them.

Why?

His eyes burn more.

He sinks his face into the small warmth of her shoulder.

He really was a terrible friend.

"Why weren't you mad at me? I was horrible. A jerk. I ruined the team. I almost ruined your dream. I was selfish, and unbearable. You forgave me and I didn't need to ask."

"There was nothing to forgive."

Emu says it so easily.

She speaks lightly as she holds him.

"Uhm… Just a little, it was a little like watching a pretty, pretty star explode and fall to pieces backstage. But Tsukasa-kun was Tsukasa-kun. Someone with a lot of emotions just like me; who gets hurt and sometimes doesn't know what to do with how he feels. Tsukasa-kun is silly, but Tsukasa-kun is also really wise. And he always, always does his best. You came back first, when everyone else left. You found us. You didn't let us go. I also - "

She stops.

Her hold on his loosens.

Tightens.

Releases.

She moves away, smiling wide, wholeheartedly.

"Everyone else - they didn't want to let go either, deep down inside. I came to see you at the hospital everyday once I found out. A lot of times you were asleep. When you weren't, you shook with pain. Hiiro-kun wasn't so sure you'd make it, though he and the others on Yamada-sensei's team were working so hard. He didn't tell us, but I could see it on his face. I'm sorry Nene-Robo hit you with that snowball. You were feeling sick before then, weren't you? I knew it."

She doesn't let him apologize again.

She talks before he can.

"Tsukasa-kun, you are my very good friend. We made a promise together. That's why I don't want to think about a time when I can't make shows at your side. That's why - "

Her gaze is intent, passion in every word.

" - I'm happy you're here, Like Keisuke-onii-chan said!"

"...Emu."

It's all Tsukasa can say at first.

So she had been eavesdropping after all.

He looks away from her for the first time.

Then she should also know -

"I made a mistake. And kept making more. I feel tired. Like somehow...despite everything, I've still failed everyone around me."

His gaze, on the ground, stays dulled and reproachful for a long moment.

Emu doesn't speak in it.

He catches himself, his absence of thoughts, not even a second later, and blinks rapidly, before apologetically lifting his head and eyes back towards her.

"Sorry. I had kept things to myself I shouldn't have. This - I'm not being very star-like, am I?"

Emu regards him not unlike her eldest brother, patient and accepting and understanding.

But purpose in her words.

Irrefutable.

"Tsukasa-kun doesn't need to be a star all the time."

She says it matter-of-factly.

A fire in her voice.

A determination.

This - she wants him to know.

"Tsukasa-kun shines brightly as himself - because he's himself - even when he makes mistakes and fails. For a long, long time, I performed alone on the Wonder Stage for the mascots who watched over me. It was hard. I wondered how much longer my smile could last, though I wanted to be filled with endless, bursting joy. The stage would be torn down."

Her smile is back, under bent brows.

"But when I saw Tsukasa-kun, my heart was racing. I thought, it's definitely possible if it's him."

She shakes her head.

She giggles.

"I was soooo excited. You had everyone talking when you left the audition. The staff marked you down as a 'weirdo' on the blacklist. But Tsukasa-kun - ”

She leans forward, towards him, eagerly, bursting with affection and cheer.

"You were Tsukasa-kun! A person who shone on that day, even though he failed! That's why it doesn't matter."

There were a lot of things that mattered.

Mainly the subject of him being on the park's blacklist in the first place.

Had he even been taken off?

But. 

He can't help it.

He smiles to himself.

As expected. 

As he suspected. 

Once Emu had said he reminded her of her grandfather; that her big brothers and father saw him in Tsukasa too.

That that was why they were paying attention so keenly to him and their troupe.

He had reminded them of something they'd lost.

Yet it was so clearly Emu who had brought that change; who had reminded them herself of the parts of them they too easily allowed themselves lose. 

"Emu. Thank you." 

"It's alright!"

Her hands behind her back, clasp her hands. She leans slightly, heartfelt and sincere.

"I'm just happy Tsukasa-kun will here for another Christmas. That's what's most important." 

She's the spitting image of someone he can't recall.

Someone he feels he's spoken to an infinity of times before. 

Where was it?

He tries to recall.

But it's a clouded haze of a dream.

He stops trying.

As he does, Emu suddenly frowns.

She's studying him.

Ruminating over something.

He copies her frown.

"Emu? What is it?"

Her expression is a troubled one the more she looks at him.

"...I was only thinking. You must be sad about missing this Christmas, though, and the rest of the holidays."

He hadn't been stewing on it in her company.

He had really only been thinking about her.

"I am disappointed," he tells her. "But, it was more for everyone else. Not really me - "

"That won't do!" she proclaims.

She moves around him, with gusto, with care - before her fingers grab a hold of the handles of his wheelchair.

"Okay! We're going!"

"What?"

He shrieks as she begins to push him towards the door, lifting his crutch, holding it close to him.

"Oi, Emu, what are you doing!"

"We're going to get Nene-chan and help her pick a snack. Then we're going to meet with my brothers. Then we're going to drive and meet Rui-kun. And we're going to hang out. Don't worry about the cold and your clothes, we'll give you a mountain of blankets and three gallons of hot chocolate!"

"The cold and my clothes are the least of my worries! Who could drink three gallons of hot chocolate? You really think Nene is at the vending machine? She probably told you that as an excuse and ran away!"

"Nene-chan wouldn't do that," Emu protests.

"If it's me, she totally would," Tsukasa rebukes.

Emu rolls him out his room and into the wide corridor of the hospital beyond.

He lets it happen for five seconds. 

Then he doesn’t.

"Emu, put me back," he says.

She stops ten feet away from what was once his room and looks down at him as he tilts his head back to squint up at her.

Neither of them pay any attention to the medical staff and other visitors of other patients in the long hallway looking at them in bewilderment.

”I’m not going,” Tsukasa says. “To whatever abyss your pushing me towards.”

"Ehh? Tsukasa-kun!" Emu says, aghast. "You don't want to come? It’s not an abyss I’m taking you to."

"I don’t care. My parents are supposed to be on their way," he answers. "What do you think they'll do if they don't find me in the room?"

"But - "

Emu keeps looking down at him, upset.

"Don't you want to see Rui-kun? He probably misses you - just as much as you miss him. Shousuke-onii-chan is a super fast driver. He broke the speed limit three times and got us pulled over the first time we came to see you before Keisuke-onii-chan took over the wheel. He can have you back here in no time."

"I don't..."

Tsukasa's words die out.

”…Rui?” he says.

Emu's eyebrows wiggle.

"Even if Rui-kun locks us out, we can be super stealthy. I'll throw you to his window. You know, he stopped answering my messages and calls. Nene-chan said to let him come to us. But it's been bothering me all this time. After all - !"

Her eyes are bright.

"I want to know that Rui-kun's okay too." 

"This is a horrible idea," says Tsukasa.

Emu pushes him past a vibrant, well-put-together Christmas display on the eighth floor lobby.

White lights, faux snow, glittered stars and stuffed presents.

"We'll get in trouble."

"Only if you believe we will."

"That's not how it works."

The staff behind the reception desk look at them, confused.

Tsukasa and Emu wave to them.

Emu keeps on pushing him towards the elevators on the other side of the lobby, humming with goodwill and cheer.

"See? Easy right?"

"They're absolutely going to contact someone."

"Why? I'm just a friend taking my friend on a journey down the hall. Besides, you didn't protest."

"I protested the whole time. What are you talking about?"

”Booo! You’ll get us caught with your negativity!”

”You’ll get us caught with your booing! They’ll lock us away!”

"Ah!” Emu’s face turns serious as she suddenly yells. “That reminds me! We've decided on the next show Tsukasa-kun!"

"Don’t change the subject! Who the heck is 'we'?"

"Me and Hiiro-kun and Yuzuki-chan."

Tsukasa deadpans.

"Why are you on a first-name basis with Hiiro-san and Kobayashi? How do you know Kobayashi?"

Emu turns up her nose and laughs, haughty.

"I met Hiiro-kun because he was looking out for you. I met Yuzuki-chan because she came to visit you once while I was still here with Nene-chan. Did you know she comes to see us at the Wonder Stage sometimes and sits alllll the way in the back, trying to pretend she's not there? Yuzu-chan loves your plays."

"Don't you mean ours? And her name has evolved. You're on best-friend status now. Don't come breaking into school to see her."

"That's no fun. I already promised I would."

"Why would you promise that in the first place? Don't!"

The elevators, decorated in tinsel and garland, are reached.

Emu presses the button for 'down'.

They wait for it to come up.

Tsukasa frowns.

"...I wonder why Kobayashi never mentioned she was interested in theater to me in class. Her brother said it too. I would’ve gladly told her what I know."

"I don't think it's the theater she's interested in, Tsukasa-kun," says Emu.

"Then it must be the special effects," Tsukasa says back. "Maybe the technical aspects. Rui would be happy to know."

"Mmhmhm," is Emu's response. "That's definitely why Yuzu-chan comes to see us all the time when you're the lead all sparkly bright and whooshy-whoosh-whoosh kabaam."

"Why are you saying it like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like that. Weirdly."

The elevator arrives.

It pings.

Its doors slide open.

Emu rolls him in.

"Because Tsukasa-kun is dense."

"Why are you insulting me!"

The elevator doors close.

"The show we chose is Romeo The Battle Royale Part Two: Space Massacre."

"Can you turn me away from the wall?"

She doesn’t.

He’s stuck staring at it.

"Do you want a cape on your spacesuit?"

"I don't know what the plot is."

"You fight a bunch of aliens in space."

"For what? It can't be for Juliet. I left her behind to ascend to cosmic godhood at the end of the first, realizing love was pointless."

"It's not for Juliet. It's for another alien. One just as strange that makes a lot of planets go wa-wa-boom! You fight to stop them, but the alien is stronger and keeps beating you and beating you until you finally outsmart him and get the upper-hand!”

She sings the shortest song of an RPG instrumental victory.

“Then - after all your battles and adventuring, you remember the feelings you had for Juliet and remember the first feeling of love! Then you go with your new alien compadre and blow up the earth, becoming wanted criminals. Yuzuki-chan gave the green-light for the third play after. Romeo! The Battle Royale Part Three: A-lien Warfare!"

"Just what exactly were you discussing with Kobayashi while I was out? How did a gallant, respectable hero become a wanted criminal? Why would he give up his values for an alien?"

"You weren't listening, Tsukasa-kun. Geeeez!” she harrumphs. “I said Romeo fell in love."

He looks at nothing flatly.

"I don't want to be chided on not listening from someone who still hasn't turned me away from the wall."

She makes car noises with the handles of his chair, blatantly ignoring him for the third time.

"Soooooo, do you want a cape?"

"I guess," he grumbles. "But whatever storyboard you have in mind, I want to see it first. There should at least be some consistency from the first Battle Royale. And we'll need to make it family-friendly."

"Sure! We can do that! We can ask KAITO-onii-san and Miku-chan and the others for help too." Speaking of.

Tsukasa hadn't heard a peep of sound from his phone since KAITO had yanked Miku out of Shousuke's sight.

They go past the second floor and hit the first floor.

The doors open to the main ground of the hospital as Tsukasa, still facing the wall, says:

"I can't believe you really told your brothers about the SEKAI."

"It's because you told them first, Tsukasa-kun. Miku-chan was super worried," Emu says, shifting his wheelchair carefully, before wheeling him around.

She uses her foot to press the 'Open Door' button as they threaten to close again.

"Aren't you concerned what this means? Hiiro-san could see them too."

"My brothers won't do anything," Emu assures him with confidence. She starts to push him out the elevator. "And Hiiro-kun won't either! He knows all about SEKAI's."

"What?" Tsukasa’s crutch gets stuck for a second behind the door. "Why?"

They wiggle it free together.

"I didn't ask," says Emu, as the crutch unsticks.

"That's one of the first things you should've," Tsukasa sighs.

He holds his crutch up, higher in his lap, vertically, in half a hug.

Then they're out of the elevator, officially on the ground level.

It's... disconcerting.

Oddly liberating.

Foreign. But familiar.

The sight brings him pause.

It strikes him, where he is, for perhaps the first time.

Sun shines through the window walls.

Clouds in the afternoon sky.

Typing on computers.

Murmurs.

How many times had he been to a place like this before?

His childhood had been hospital visits in between school and home and clubs.

The energy is remarkably solemn and low.

Emu, directing them to a tucked-away corner past rows of empty plastic seats, close to the sliding glass exit doors, has settled down with the atmosphere.

Although the tucked-away corner she's led him to is the darkest thing he's seen.

He's partially preoccupied and distracted as she takes him closer to its shadows, hidden from the front desk and its foyer and left wing - where no doubt more patients rest and receive treatment.

It is a hospital, after all. 

Or was she actually taking him to some abyss?

…No, no. She wouldn’t be.

Not like this. 

Although - 

He had never thought about taking Saki out of her room and around the hospital.

For all his pomp and flair in loudness in his later visits as he grew older, he had stuck religiously to the laid-out rules and regulations of the facilities.

But maybe it was something she would've liked.

The freedom from the confines of the four walls.

He had never asked.

He had only brought her gifts and puzzles and magazines and comforts from home, and earnestly ask how she was, and sit and listen to her talk.

She had insisted, constantly, that it was enough.

But he wondered if it truly was.

He wonders if it ever was.

Keisuke’s words come into his head.

About Shousuke and honesty. 

Tsukasa contemplates on it, troubled. 

Maybe…

But no.

…Realistically, he could've never taken her out her room.

Those hospitals seemed far busier.

Saki was watched more often for relapses more than she was left alone.

...How long would it take for his own absence to be discovered?

"Emu," he says, as he's brought to a stop in the dark corner, lit entirely by a line of vending machines. "I hope you have an escape plan."

"Offff course!” she answers. "I have three. Where do you think Nene-chan went?"

"You're asking me?"

He frowns at the selection of candy bars and chips and gum before their eyes.

"Nene was at this vending machine? Why not the one on the eighth floor?"

"They never have the selection she's looking for."

Tsukasa keeps looking at the junk food.

He looks at it.

And has a thought.

"Emu. Did Nene ever come to see me?"

Emu takes a step from him and searches the pockets of her sweats for change.

"She came with me and my brothers every time."

"Did she come into the room, I mean."

"She did, the first time. After that, she kept getting hungry."

She wasn't getting hungry.

He knew it. 

"You know that's not true, right?"

"I know. But I didn't want to make her uncomfortable. She wanted to see you, but you’re very different when you’re sick. Sometimes you’re really still.”

He shifts his attention from the vending machine as Emu gets herself a candy bar, looking at an unassuming, nondescript door to the far right corner, largely out-of-sight.

'EXIT' in thick blocks of printed gray.

"Tsukasa-kun, do you want anything?"

"I don't even know what I'm allowed to have."

He tilts his head towards the solemn gray door.

"Do you think you could help me out there? Then wait in here for a bit?" 

His crutch gets caught in a wedge of snow and ice less than two feet out the door, buffered by winds and crisp snow blown from the roof.

He fights a losing battle, unevenly on one foot, then the other, the door closed too quickly behind him for him to call back to Emu for help.

The cold doesn't sting.

It cuts.

Brusquely against his skin.

He sucks in air sharply.

His teeth chatter on a shiver, before he wills the shiver away - and finds himself under assault from four more.

Was he an idiot?

Why had he come out here in a T-shirt and shorts?

His bare foot touches frozen stone and burning snow.

It lurches back up.

He flails, windmilling arm the only thing keeping him from flying somewhere to the side.

But it's useless anyway.

He has enough time to look in front of him - see the outdoor walkway - the few benches - the wooden, gray-painted gazebo no doubt used by members of the hospital staff for privacy and breaks - before the effort of trying to free himself and win against an invisible foe, dies out.

He hits the ground, elbow first, jaw second, forehead third.

His vision whites.

His ears mute.

He feels - distinctly - as if he's broken a bone or six, and collapsed his ribs.

He searches around, blindly, raw pads of his fingers over bumpy earth, into powdery snow in front of him, for his crutch that's gotten away.

Footsteps in the drifts.

They crunch, quiet.

They stand above him, quieter.

"...You really are..."

Nene's voice is soft.

His crutch is nudged into his fingers' reach.

He drags his throbbing, sore head and chin up, swaying vision catching sight of her.

"...An idiot," she finishes.

Snow on her hair.

She's dressed just as poorly as ever.

That dress, those boots, the long, thin jacket - better suited to spring.

White earmuffs on her ears.

Nene has always been pretty.

Has always had the appearance of a born heroine.

From the ground below, it's like looking up at one - a star - touched briefly down to the earth, in a return to home.

He remembers the actress Nene had met on the sandy shores of a beach, by the calling waves.

He remembers Nene's dreams.

To one day venture just as far.

There's something in him at the thought.

Something strange in him as his gaze on her settles.

As he thinks to himself of Nene as a good friend come to him.

A good friend - who will one day, soon, leave again.

He's not sure what to make of it.

Her violet eyes are unreadable.

The volume of her voice doesn't increase.

"This is a hospital. Don't you know how to stay in bed?"

It's a coalesced, cold cloud that fogs the breath escaping him as he answers.

"Not when there's someone stubborn spending their hours of visit sitting out in the snow."

He gets a hand beneath him.

He doesn't yet attempt to push himself up.

"You're not even dressed right," she tells him.

"I don't want to hear that from someone who still hasn't learned to put on a scarf,” he tells her. “Or a pair of gloves."

"I have gloves."

He looks at her hands again.

He notices, then, what he hadn't before.

A single candy bar in the grip of her pale fingers.

It's unopened.

Crinkled.

Bent.

It looks like she's been holding onto it forever.

A good few long seconds of hushed quiet falls with the remnants of roof-gusted snow.

A second more.

He pushes himself up.

He struggles.

Air punched from his lungs; he buckles back down, a whine on his tongue, biting back a repeated mantra of silent curses and breathless ows.

The candy bar is dropped - red paper on the white of the earth.

Nene lowers, quickly, arms tucking beneath his own, and keeps him scant inches off the frosted walkway's harsh ground.

She keeps him there, as she holds him, clumsily, awkwardly, heavy in her arms.

On her knees, dredges of winter seeps into her stockings. 

"...You're cold," is what she says.

Winter seeps through his shirt, through the flimsy legs of his shorts, in turn.

"That’s normal isn’t it?” is what he says back, voice muffled in thin fabric of her sleeve. "It's freezing."

He shivers in her hold.

But in the malfunctioning clutch of a never-to-be-talked about embrace between them - he hides a tiny smile.

It’s warm.

He doesn’t say what he’s really thinking.

That he’s happy to see her. 

That he’s glad she’s there. 

Even if she hadn’t been able to bring herself to see him the same as Emu had.

He lifts his chin from her sleeve, gaze shifting, to look at her face.

He says to her: 

“That was a waste of a candy bar.”

She reads straight through him.

“So buy me another one,” she says. “For every day you were out.”

It’s challenge in her voice. 

“You can do that now that you’re here, can’t you?”

Their silent ask and answer.

Are you alright?

I will be. 

Of course he will be.

He will.

”Yeah.”

Emu bangs open the door ten seconds later and looks down at them from where they haven’t moved. 

“Hi Nene-chan!” 

“W-Wha - Emu?”

Nene doesn’t throw him to the ground. But she does let go of him very abruptly.

Tsukasa clutches at her knees, writhing.

“Nene…you…”

She grabs a hold of him again and tries to help him stand, worried and horrified and apologetic.

”S-Sorry!”

He wheezes.

Emu, apparently oblivious to their plight, keeps speaking from the door.

”Tsukasa-kun, the doctors are looking for you, and boyyyy are they mad!”

Nene and Tsukasa quit fumbling in each other’s grasp to look at her.

Her eyes shine in snow and sun.

”Eh-he-he. What do you think?”

Full of life.

”Should we run?”

Chapter Text

There's something off about the train.

He can't place what it is.

Emu is talking to the right of him in the cushioned seats, but he can't understand a word of it, mild thoughts of confusion holding place in his mind as he looks out the window, left, to the sprawl of the park in the SEKAI below. 

Vivid, bright and lively. 

It looks the same as usual... so what was it about the speeding train and the wonderland that was bothering him?

He leans his ear a bit closer to the window.

Rattling?

What was that all about? 

Balloons are drifting up, past the free-flying train in the cotton candy clouds.

Green and blue and red and -

"Look! They've turned yellow!" Emu notices, perking up. "Tsukasa-kun, are you a yellowy-mood?"

"What's a yellowy-mood?" Tsukasa asks, distantly, still listening to the strange noise from the window as he watches the gaggle of balloons drift up and beyond, out of the window's sight.

"It's when you're feeling good inside," Emu explains. 

"...Yeah," Tsukasa mumbles. "I don't know about that."

Because once they left the SEKAI, Tsukasa had a terrible sense the only thing he'd be feeling inside was infinite pain and the feeling of re-broken limbs.

The SEKAI was unique like that.

Tsukasa had never given it much thought before, but it was true that ailments and injuries never really carried over to the wonderland.

Emu had gotten a paper cut once while they'd been brainstorming in the SEKAI at lunch in the past, yet when they had met up later that evening for practice after school, not a trace of the cut had been on her finger after.

The unusual, unexplained laws of the fantastical space born from Tsukasa seemed to apply to the Singers too.

And good thing.

Otherwise KAITO might not be around. Given the antics of Miku and MEIKO.

Regardless...

"This wasn't what I was expecting when you said run," Nene speaks from the seat across from them.

Her brows are knit. Small frown on.

Tsukasa silently agrees, moving his ear away from the window.

He was probably imagining things. Everything had happened pretty quickly after all. Honestly, it hadn't even crossed his mind coming here, but now that he thinks about it, it was one of the most logical places to disappear into. 

"It's the best place, isn't it?" Emu says, echoing Tsukasa's thoughts. Her arms are tucked under the legs she idly swings back-and-forth. "No one can follow or find us inside of here, and we get to hang out with each other for a bit. It's a win-win." 

"Emu... I don't think it'll turn out the way you think," Nene responds, frowning smaller, and smaller some more. "We'll be in even bigger trouble once we go back. Those we left behind will be worried to death." 

"Don't worry," Emu assures her, brightly. "It'll be fine! I messaged Shousuke-onii-chan and asked him to go to the closet and bring the laundry cart to the car. I told him it was super, super important, and if he didn't we would be in trouble. So when we're ready to leave here, we can go back - and poof!" Her hands un-tuck from beneath her. They spread, like a rainbow. "We'll still be in the cart we all huddled into before coming here. Next! Out of the cart, into Keisuke-onii-chan's car. Easy-peasy~!" 

Tsukasa finally turns his head from the whimsical view beyond the train to look at her. 

"I can foresee about a hundred complications with the plan, starting with your brother not bringing the cart to the car at all, but aside from that, what makes you think they won't freak out seeing the three of us and a crutch piled into it? He'll send us straight back into the hospital. Or. At least me."

"He won't," Emu insists. "Not if we're all buckled into the car. He's strange like that. And Keisuke-onii-chan really won't say anything if we're already in the car. He'll just follow us wherever to make sure nothing goes wrong, and I'll get scolded for it lightly later." 

Tsukasa is skeptical, but truthfully, already completely resigned to the consequences that awaited them, regardless of where or when they'd strike. "You have a lot of confidence predicting the behavior of your brothers," he comments. 

"Of course," Emu says with a puff of pride and delight in her voice. "They're my big brothers!" 

Her smile reminds him of Saki's. 

And he knows without a doubt, that if Saki had come up to him and asked him for a favor - no matter how ridiculous, no matter how much he'd question it at first - he'd do it. Seeing the ones he cared about smiling and living their life as they pleased, if possible - without burdens - 

...Yeah. He didn't think Keisuke or Shousuke would refuse Emu in the slightest if it was within their power to meet her requests. 

It'd bring everyone happiness in the end. 

And what would it be? he wonders.

Selfishness? Or Selflessness. 

...Well. No matter the answer, there was another, significantly bigger problem at hand. 

He frowns at Emu and Nene both. 

"You don't think that moth will still be in the cart with us when we return, do you?" 

"I hope not," Emu worries. "Imagine if we reappeared and landed on it." 

"That would be the least of my concerns. What if it flies into my face?" Tsukasa worries back. 

"How would it manage to do that if you landed on it?" Nene says, aggrieved. "Is that really your number one concern right now out of everything going on?" 

"Of course it is!" Tsukasa exclaims. "Did you see how big it was?"

Nene and Emu's combined efforts had gotten him off the ground and snow outside, and somewhat on his feet, and precariously back inside the darkened corner of the vending machine enclosure. By the grace of some higher being, there had been a second door straight across from the 'EXIT' one.

When the three of them had fumbled their way inside of it, they had discovered shelves and baskets and crates of blankets, towels, fabrics and linens, along with several large, unused laundry carts - with enough space for a human being to haphazardly sink into the bottom of and lay curled up inside. It most definitely wasn't meant for three senior highschoolers.

But footsteps and the voices of hospital staff had grown too close for comfort outside the storage closet door.

Tsukasa was only surprised a lung hadn't been punctured in the process of getting him into the cart first, because one minute he'd been sweating buckets from the exertion of excessive, poor movement on his sloppily-held crutch, watching Emu peruse through the blankets on the shelves in front of him like she was shopping - and the next, Nene's hand was flying up and slapping over his mouth with speed and force.

Right as the moth flew in out of nowhere, wings fluttering into his eyes (blinding him) before it settled on the side of the cart they were standing by.

Nene's hand had barely been enough to muffle his scream. 

"Sorry, Tsukasa-kun," Emu had said, sincerely. Right before she folded him over into the cart. While he'd been attempting to figure out what happened to the limbs on his body, Emu had settled in beside him, Nene had been dragged in by her after, and a broad blanket had been pulled over their heads. 

The conversation of the nurses outside the closet had properly, though muffled, reached their ears. 

"Yamada-sensei is going to kill us." 

"I always knew you were an optimist, Tanaka-kun." 

"Can't you take this seriously, Hiiro? How did they get out? You were with the kid last!" 

"Technically I was with Yoshino-chan. Nevertheless, standing here won't do us any favors. Akiko mentioned seeing a suspicious pair of kids coming this way. So they've either escaped outside and are lost in the howling winds of winter, or....~" 

The door to the storage room had opened. 

"They could be in here-" 

Team Wonderland had disappeared into the SEKAI like the wind.

The park Tsukasa had felt he had only seen recently in a haze of a dream had caught him in its idyllic thralls nonetheless. It'd been almost overwhelming. A thrall of plushies had come over in a near wave of abundant joy to greet them, shouting out his name, hopping and leaping and zooming around, ready to carry him wherever need be. 

So the train. 

"Since it's better for you to rest, right?" Emu had said. 

"What do you think you broke when you put me into the cart?" Tsukasa had said back. 

He hadn't been able to see Saki's rabbit among the crowd of plushies. 

He hadn't had the chance to think on it long either. 

The train had distracted him after. 

And now - 

"That moth was covered in fur," Tsukasa points out to Nene. He holds his chin, heavily concerned, more than petrified. "I can't believe the hospital had it in there. There has to be some sort of sanitary law against it." 

"What kind of hospital would have a law against a moth coming inside?" Nene says. "Besides, it was only in the cart because of you. The moth was on your back since ages ago. After you fell down in the snow outside." 

"What? And you didn't say anything?" Tsukasa exclaims. 

"For what reason?" Nene defensively replies. "It clung to you anyway the whole time we had to help hobble you back inside and into that storage room. You're heavy." 

"That jab had nothing to do with anything. You added that on out of spite, didn't you." 

Her arms fold.

"Think what you want. It was probably attracted to that awful shirt you're wearing and mistook it for a nesting ground." 

"In the middle of winter?!" Tsukasa leans back in his seat and folds his arms, mirroring her, impetuously, relishing in the temporary feeling of comfortability the SEKAI grants him with the action, unaccompanied by discomfort or pain. "Choose your words wisely, Nene. Don't think I won't tell Rui when we find him that you've called his shirt a nesting ground." 

Nene stares at him. 

Tsukasa cocks a brow. "Ha! Have I finally succeeded in a comeback so elite you've got nothing to say in return?" 

"What about that comeback was elite," says Nene.

She keeps staring.

And she's not the only one.

Emu's eyes are on him too.

"Rui's shirt," is what Nene goes on to say. "That's what you're wearing." 

"It wasn't obvious?" he says in answer. "I don't usually have things like this in my closet." 

"Except now."

Nene looks like she's withholding a great deal of things she wants to say. Like she's picking the words in her head first before speaking them out. Which she does, not even thirty seconds after, as she regards him with the perfect scrutiny of someone about to enact a precise incision deep into his soul.

"While we're on the subject, what's going on with you two anyway? You've been acting weird for weeks. Rui won't tell me anything about it. I can only conclude it stems from you." 

"What kind of a conclusion is that? You've got no evidence for such a horrible statement!"

Still, his own folded arms loosen under her gaze; loosen at her question. 

...Was she talking about their fight?

Before the accident?

How would she even know about it?

"It was... something personal," he frowns. "I never did get a chance to apologize to him - "

"I'm not talking about that. Though he told me about that too."

"Uh - huh?" he says then, bewildered. 

"I'm talking about you two," she says. "Your weird relationship. What's going on with it?" 

"Nothing," says Tsukasa. "Except for a few misunderstandings, I think." 

Emu's expression bends, far too concerned. "I thought you guys hit a rough patch," she says. "But I'd been hoping you were in the middle of figuring it out so you can go back to being together again, like usual." 

Tsukasa's expression bends down itself as he glances at her, confused. "What do you mean 'together'?" 

"You know," says Emu. 

He doesn't. 

"I don't," he says. 

Emu looks at him. 

And looks at him. 

"Uhem. ...Tsukasa-kun. ...You don't have to play silly anymore. Nene-chan and I already know."

There are lit circuits in his mind - failing to connect. 

That rattling is back. 

That unsteady sound coming from the window by his left ear. 

"You've got to be kidding."

Nene.

"Tsukasa, as much as I don't want to have a conversation like this in the first place," she begins, sounding exactly like she'd rather be anywhere else on the planet. "She's right. You haven't been doing a good job of hiding it. If you can even call it hiding. And anyway, it's us. You and Rui don't need to keep it a secret. Unless it's what you want. But we work in the same troupe and see each other almost everyday. Of course we'll notice." 

Tsukasa furrows his brows at her. 

She's being serious. 

Like Emu. 

"Er - " 

He shifts where he sits, for once missing the steadying hold of the crutch that hadn't appeared in the SEKAI with them. 

"I think I understand what you guys are implying - but - it's not what you think. Rui and I...aren't involved like that. We're friends. Comrades. A troupe and team. I wouldn't really keep something like that a secret from you guys anyway. You'd be told with a suitable degree of pizzazz." 

Nene looks tired. 

"What in the world is 'a suitable degree of pizzazz'?" 

"Fanfare," Tsukasa shares. "The joyous expression of bursting hearts in youth." 

"Ugh. I can see you're starting to feel better and more like yourself by the second." 

"You don't have to sound so disgusted!" 

"Sorry," she apologizes without apology. "I cant help what I feel when I look at you sometimes."

"Can you at least pretend to say it with some sincerity?" 

"Sorry," she deadpans. 

"Your tone got flatter! You - " He stops and brings a hand to his head, muttering, biting back the rest of the bickering words eager to jump off his tongue. "Forget it. It's impossible to win against you." His hand drops. He makes sure to look at Emu and Nene both. "Anyway, Rui isn't interested in anything like that. Regardless of how I feel, he doesn't see us the same. So I'm fine with it. I think it's something to acknowledge and respect."  

A strange noise leaves Emu then. A stranger one leaves Nene. 

Like choking. 

Accompanied by a baffled set of blinks. 

"What," Tsukasa wonders. 

"What did you just say?" Nene asks. 

"I said he doesn't see us the same. Me and him." 

"When did he say that?" 

"When I told him how I felt."

"What."

"What?"

"You... told him how you felt first?" Nene is quite clearly flabbergasted. "When?" 

He thinks. 

"Well it's January now, so I guess it was a little over a month and a half ago," he tells them, more confused by the surprised and bamboozled expressions Nene and Emu were giving him. He doesn't get it. "It'd been bothering me for a while, not saying anything about it. I was worried it might interfere with our shows, and I kept getting distracted thinking about it. So I told him. 'I like you'." 

"That's - " Nene still looks extremely taken aback. 

Emu too. 

"Really direct, Tsukasa-kun." 

"I didn't think there was another way to say it," Tsukasa says to her before shifting his eyes towards Nene. "Do you remember a few months ago? In the fall? We went to see that show with Emu's brother. And we ate dinner at that diner after. It was a few weeks later that I said it. At the Wonder Stage. Rui and I were packing away the rest of the props because Emu wanted to take you get ice cream at the new cafe that opened by the mall. Months and months before that day, Rui had asked me what we were, but I couldn't answer." 

He scratches the side of his cheek. 

"...I also did poorly in trigonometry for a week straight, so I wasn't in good condition for anything, much less the subject of 'us' that needed considerable thought. But, Nene -I told him because of you. Your advice stuck in my head for weeks, so long the weeks turned into summer, and into fall. I was a coward - all the way up until then." 

Nene lowers her eyebrows, perplexed. "Advice?"

"You told me to be honest," Tsukasa says. 

She had. 

On that day, after all the notes Rui had been going to lend to Tsukasa had gone and scattered away in the wind. 

Green and blue and white.

Spring.

Nene had found him on a bench in the courtyard after classes had let out, early to leave her club meeting.

He himself had stayed behind for too long.

Ordinarily, he should've walked with Rui to meet Emu at the gates of her own school - so they could then go to the park and their stage.

But as Nene had come over, and as Nene had stood before him, silent in the stretch of his hunched shadow - it had left Tsukasa.

Before he'd been able to stop it. 

"He asked me what we were."  

"And?" 

"And nothing." His fists on his knees had clenched. "That's it." 

"That's not what I meant," Nene had said, voice unchanging. "What are you frightened of - is what I was asking. Is that who Tenma Tsukasa is?"

Tsukasa hadn't answered. 

"It's Rui," Nene had said. 

"It's because it's Rui," Tsukasa had said back, refusing to meet her gaze. "This could change everything." 

"Or nothing."

She had taken a seat next to him.

She had pulled out her phone.

Leaned back into the wood of the bench.

Headphones.

And started watching a video.

"It's getting annoying," she had said after a few minutes of them sitting there together. "Watching you two dance around. If it's bothering me, then it's definitely bothering you."

"I'm not bothered," he had whispered. 

"Then say it louder, if it's true." 

He hadn't.

Not then and there. 

What he had said was:

"I'm really bad at math."

"Yeah, you are."

"Remember?" Tsukasa asks.

"That's what you call advice?" Nene questions.

Her features grow bothered.

"I remember that. But whatever Rui said to you in response when you told him couldn't be right." 

"Nene, I was there," Tsukasa points out. "When I told him my thoughts, that I like him; that I'd like to stay beside him for however long as possible, in the days ahead, if he'd allow it, Rui said -"

He falls into imitation, eyes softening, softer smile curling at his lips. 

"- If that's what Tsukasa-kun wishes. It's alright with me. Because Tsukasa-kun has been my favorite person for a while now." 

His imitation drops. 

"And we finished packing and left it at that," he shares with Emu and Nene. "We never brought it up again. Obviously, Rui had been deflecting in the nicest way possible, out of consideration, to maintain the bonds of our friendship built over our time as troupe mates and friends. I'd been hoping we could move on from the incident, but he's been increasingly hard to read since. Addressing the problem I've caused would be the best way to go about it, but we never..."

He trails off. 

He recalls his interactions with Rui since. 

He falters. 

"Our friendship comes before everything. But I was so pointlessly callous."

He slumps.

"Right before this happened, we got into a disagreement - the one he told you about I guess - and I had told him I didn't want to see him again, even after knowing he's been trying to say something all this while." 

Emu is quiet. 

Nene is not.

She looks at him like she'd enjoy strangling him by the neck. 

"You're the biggest idiot. Tsukasa. You're actually stupid. I mean it." 

"Why?" he cries, offended. 

He'd just spent all this time sharing an inner part of himself and his reflections and here she was stepping on it - and him. "What is it this time?" 

"What isn't it?" she scathingly responds. "I didn't understand Rui's suffering until now. I should've known it'd be inevitable with a bozo like you. You can't understand a thing about the people with you, can you?"

She stands.

"I'm leaving."

Tsukasa follows the movement with his eyes, scowling.

"And going where? To the hospital where everyone is waiting?" 

"It's been over thirty minutes. They wouldn't still be in that closet." 

"How would you know?" 

"How would you?" 

Tsukasa looks at Emu for back-up. 

For reassurance. 

It doesn't come. 

Rather, she gets to her feet, walks the several steps of space over to Nene, and sits her back down. Then she shuffles backwards, turning in the middle to look at them both. The both of them who had been moved into confused silence at her actions. 

She tells them, calmly, humming: 

"Nene-chan has a point. We don't know what's going on, so someone should look before we go, right? I also need to see where my brothers got off to. Just in case the messages I sent to them from here didn't make it back to them. Maybe I can get the signal I need there. So you two stay here. I'll come back when it's safe." 

"Emu?" Nene worries. 

"What if you get caught?" Tsukasa worries with her. 

"I won't." A fist against her chest. A smile lightening her face. "Believe in WonderlandsxShowtime's greatest hero. Me!" 

"What - " Nene starts.

"Emu - !" Tsukasa begins.

She's gone. 

Nene and Tsukasa look at the spot Emu once was. 

They look at one another. 

They fall into silence. 

And terse silence some more. 

When their heads and gazes turn, they turn towards their windows, where for a time - they don't speak to one another - another word. 

"I'm confused," he says. 

That day, on the bench in the school courtyard, after Nene had taken out her phone and stayed on it. 

After Nene hadn't left. 

"Don't you have better things to do than hang around me? I thought you didn't like being seen with me in public." 

It's half a joke. 

It's half genuine. Without pretense. 

"That's only when you're being embarrassing," Nene answers, "and making weird poses in the middle of the sidewalk."

Her eyes continue watching the short piece of a musical she had put on.

Tsukasa could recognize it.

He had seen it before when he was younger, in middle school.

A fleeting thought comes to him of how well he and Nene would've gotten along, had they met before her trauma; had they gone to the same school, lived close to one another; were childhood friends. 

There were... probably a lot of TV shows and movies and musicals they would've gone to see together. 

She probably wouldn't be so put off by his eccentric habits. 

They maybe wouldn't have been so different than her and Rui. 

Maybe then, instead of yelling at her in the aftermath of that train-wreck of a show, in his humiliation and in her distress, he would've been someone better; who could understand better.

But truthfully, he had never been the sort of person.

Had he.

A person who could understand others intuitively. Who could see beneath surfaces and layers and see the troubles of others right away. Their true feelings. 

He had to learn to. 

Like everything else. 

And yet. 

Still yet. 

Improvements had to be made. 

That self-absorbed burning, blazing star, incapable of seeing, believing in anything but its own brightness - to that clumsy, humbled light - still bright.

But realizing its brightness was nothing compared to the vast galaxies around it.

Closer.

Better.

More reliable.

More trustworthy.

Who didn't make the same mistakes twice.

It was hard to imagine their troupe would ever fall apart like it did the first time.

But he was under no misconceptions.

Inevitably, one day, working towards their own goals, everyone would leave.

As they should.

To see and explore the big wide world beyond - to reach the pinnacles - no the apex - of their dreams.

And it'd be a memory.

Everyone.

And everything.

Their greatest shows and greatest failures.

The companions they once were - and the feelings they once held for one another.

"Emu likes you, you know," Nene says then, in the stagnant air that had fallen around them.

Her gaze keeps on her phone.

Tsukasa's own gaze sits on the bowing grass of the courtyard in the calm wind that brushes their necks; their heads; their hair, like a passing friend. 

"Yeah," he says. "I know." 

"And here you are, fixated on Rui." 

"I'm not here to take him away from you." 

"I don't care about that. He's a not a 'thing' that belongs to someone." 

He glances at her from the corner of his eye. 

A tiny, pushed-out frown. Knit brows. Annoyance in the lines of her face at his presumption. 

These are her genuine thoughts.

She cared for Rui. Rui cared for her.

They supported each other wholeheartedly. 

He supposes he understands where Rui's thoughts and feelings lie. 

He smiles to himself, looking at her. 

He wanted to be able to support them too. The best he could. The people who were constantly changing him.

Irreplaceable. 

"I don't suppose you like me too?" he jokes. 

"Don't be ridiculous," Nene half-scoffs, half-snorts. She looks up from her phone, and settles a remarkably dead gaze on him. "Not even if you were the last person alive." 

He balks.

"That's inhumanly cruel! I'm not that bad!" 

"But you admit you still are." 

His mouth opens. 

A comeback fails. 

He slouches, defeated, mumbling, uttering, at the ground. 

"One day you'll see my worth. You'll feel sorry then." 

"The day that happens is the day you lie on your deathbed." 

"That's too much!" 

Nene gets to her feet. She pulls her bag over her shoulder and looks down at him, features blank, yet somehow relaying a thousand unimpressed words in his direction. "The others will be waiting at the stage for us. If we're too late, they'll ask questions I won't feel like answering, and you'll be left with all the explaining." 

Tsukasa stretches forward. He stretches back. He joins her in standing, rotating his shoulders. "For once, I'd like to hear you give a long-winded description of your day from start to finish. That would be the real day the world ends." 

They start walking, side-by-side, shoes in the earth, grass at the ankles, sky above, sun warm on the crowns of their head. 

"Don't get your hopes up," Nene says. 

Tsukasa chuckles. "I wouldn't dream of it." 

Except maybe he had.

The whistle of the train they're on touches in his ears, in his mind, faintly.

His gaze on the pink and purple and blue and gold skies; on the SEKAI - lingers.

Emu said Nene had visited him while he slept only once.

There were things he remembered.

There were things he didn't.

Things he didn't to. 

Nene wasn't one of them.

And there were moments, seen in vivid clarity, in recollection, of his parents, of Saki; felt in visceral swells of uncontrollable emotion.

But he wonders.

He wonders -

"Your family visited you a lot."

Tsukasa's eyes leave the window.

They go to Nene.

Nene who stubbornly looks out at the very same view he had been looking at moments before.

He gives her a moment. 

Then he speaks. 

"...So I've heard. How did you know?"

"I saw them," she says, shortly. "Walking in the parking lot from the hospital when I came over. And sometimes in the halls when they were coming or going."

"Did you hide in a bush or behind a wall or something until they passed?"

"I'm not you."

"I don't hide in bushes as much as you think."

"But you still do. And you don't even deny it." 

"Don't make it sound like I'm a weirdo. You should've said hi to them."

A hint of embarrassment colors her face.

"Why would I have done that? I'm not familiar with them."

"That's how you become familiar. Next time just go up to them," Tsukasa tells her, looking at her. "They'd be happy to meet you in person. Saki already knows you."

"Like I said, I'm not you," Nene reiterates, looking upset for it. 

Tsukasa keeps looking at her.

"I guess you're right. How about you come over for dinner then when my parents are around. That should be fine."

Nene's head turns extraordinarily quickly his way. 

In absolutely mortification.

"Definitely not!"

"You don't have to make it sound like the worst thing on the planet! It was a sincere invitation!"

"I'm - I'm turning in down!"

"That's horrible!

"The horrible one is you," Nene finally bursts, scowling.

The intensity of it makes him sit back.

Minutely, her features buckle. Minutely, they break.

Her eyebrows fold.

She looks at him, eyes bright in the colorful train cabin they're in, wearing a new expression.

One open.

One honest.

Upset.

"You're so annoying." 

It curdles in him, the emotion, twisting, deep in his chest; something just as upset. 

"I haven't done anything. I don't get it."

"And you probably won't. That's just the kind of person you are," Nene responds, sounding defeated, defeated, defeated as if she'd been carrying the weight of a defeat for days upon her shoulders, bottling it inside. "...Here you are. Acting like nothing's wrong. You're the one I don't get. Weren't you hit by a car? Doesn't that bother you?"

The words born of hurt that had been forming on Tsukasa's tongue - die away.

"You lied in a bed and slept in it for eleven days," says Nene to the ground.

To their still feet.

"You didn't move for a second - and when you did - it was only to cause trouble for everyone else around you and yourself. I never heard of someone so against their own recovery. And now we're in the SEKAI, when you should be back in the hospital, getting the rest you need. You haven't done anything? What haven't you done? You won't even say if your injuries are hurting you. If they scare you."

"They don't hurt," says Tsukasa, because it's true.

"They don't scare me," says tsukasa, because it's also true.

Because he had been told he would be alright.

Because in the SEKAI, on this soaring train, there was protection, and unchanging safety - and with it - freedoms without worry. 

He's only bothered thinking about the accident having happened in the first place. 

He's only bothered thinking of being knocked down. 

In front of others. 

So recklessly. 

So carelessly. 

He's only bothered when he thinks about losing his life. 

But there's a realization that comes to him as he thinks and thinks away from it; the more he studies Nene; the more he takes in the weight of her words, spoken and unspoken; the uncharacteristic eruption of her ire against him. 

"You came to see me," he says. "Without Emu." 

Nene is silent for a minute. 

Nene speaks in the next one after. 

"...It wasn't a habit. Twice was enough." 

She lifts her gaze off the floor but doesn't direct it to him. It moves just past his shoulder, instead. To the back of the seat he sits against. 

She says nothing. 

"...Nene?"

"It was frightening." 

She holds her attention on the seat.

The train takes an easy curve on nothing, trackless, speeding through the clouds.

He thinks he feels a wind, though the windows of the train are all sealed tightly shut; keeping their words, their conversation, this confrontation in.  

"There was nothing to do but sit and wait. I was frustrated," Nene says. "Emu won't tell you. She cried a lot. After the first visit I took with them. Her and her brothers. Emu was the one who went to the vending machine first. She was the one who went outside and sat in that gazebo meant for staff only. It's how she met Kobayashi-san; how she began talking to him."

Tsukasa keeps quiet.

"I happened to be walking over to retrieve her when I heard the question she asked," Nene continues. "What if he doesn't come back? Kobayashi-san assured her you would. Despite everything, your signs looked good. But when Emu asked me later - that same question - a different way - do you worry he won't wake either? I didn't have an answer."

Tsukasa had seen Emu cry before.

He'd been the source of it twice.

Now thrice.

It makes him somber. 

'I'm sorry'.

It doesn't sound right to say. 

He doesn't think it's what Nene wants to hear either.

So he sits, the same as her, unable to give an answer.

The train travels on.

Higher.

Into the wafting clouds. Upwards an unmarked, small hill.

He thinks about Emu who had left him and Nene in the train to sit and talk.

Emu, perceptive of even what they themselves chose to squash away, overlook and deny. 

She seemed to bounce back incredibly fast once he'd been awake in the hospital. 

That Emu, whose feelings for him, growing more and more, over time, he couldn't stop.

Where his own feelings for her sat, settled, untouched, un-thought about.

Because of the feet that walked him, uselessly, pulling irrevocably, a polarity, towards someone else. 

"I saw Rui Christmas night," Nene tells him, as if following the exact trails of his silent thoughts. "The guy you confessed your feelings to. The guy whose words to you, you completely misunderstood."

"...I don't know what you mean by that," Tsukasa replies, uncertainty in him at her statement, the accusation, the under-layer and over-layer to Nene's three different phrases bound together in a way he doesn't fully comprehend. "It was - it didn't leave room for interpretation, what he said. But I'm sure, regardless, with the accident... he must've been upset." 

"He was furious."

Tsukasa pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, and bites on it.

He had been on the end of Rui's cold anger and disinterest only once. He had witnessed it twice - as Emu's brothers insulted her, insulted them; their work and their stage. Because Rui was protective of the things he held important and dear. Nene. Later them. Their team. 

"Ah - well -" Still Tsukasa's shoulders raise the slightest. "That's to be expected. I was careless." 

"He was upset with himself, Tsukasa. Not you." 

He blinks and meets Nene's bothered gaze. 

"His room was a mess. He let me in but wouldn't look at me once. He sat at the desk the whole time, taking apart that dog he built - putting it back together again. Silent. Then he told me he was with you. That he should have still been there with you. That it was his fault." 

"It wasn't his fault." 

"Rui is my childhood friend. I'd never..."

She hesitates. 

Starts again.

"...I'd never seen him like that."

"I'm sorry."

It escapes him.

"Why are you apologizing for him?" Nene says, and that ire, that frustration burns her tone again. "I'm the one who didn't know what to do to help."

Downhill. 

A slow descent. 

A slower curve and slope, winding, winding closer to the SEKAI below.

To the lights, the music, the plushies and balloons and art. 

Nene's eyes are off of him.

Her hands are on her knees.

"I couldn't help Emu. I couldn't help Rui. I didn't know what to do with myself. I didn't want to visit you with Emu because there was nothing I could do. But when I mustered the strength to go alone, there was nothing I could do either. You were asleep the first time. The second time, I was ushered out because you wouldn't stop crying from the pain all your sickness and surgeries caused."

Weak.

How weak of him.

Only once.

Saki had gone through it again and again.

Nene's fingers curl into the knees of her pale dress.

Her head is down.

Her voice is low.

It rises with her words.

In self-bereavement.

"....Not being able to do anything for Emu. Not being able to do anything for Rui. I couldn't even speak to your parents. To your sister. My words wouldn't have made a difference to anyone. I kept waiting for you to do it instead. To wake - and show them yourself - to tell them yourself - you’d be alright. Rui did come, Tsukasa. He came once, with me, because I convinced him to. Two days after Christmas."

The words stun him.

Nene shakes her head.

"But we didn't make it to your room. Shinonome-kun. He'd been in the lobby with Aoyagi-kun and Aoyagi-kun's father, talking with them, upset. He'd sat with you until your sister came, but you weren't lucid enough. You would recognize him, and ask him what he'd been shopping for, and apologize that he hadn't been able to find it, because you'd taken up too much of his time - with a promise that you'd help him find it later. Every time he visited. You would say that to him."

One of Nene's hands lifts off of her knee and moves to her face, under hair, over her brow. 

"Rui and I didn't feel it was right to announce ourselves. We were going to wait until they maybe visited you first. But then Shinonome-kun said it. He'd been in there with you. He had forced his way into the ambulance for the whole ride over with you. And he told Aoyagi-kun, and we heard it. You had died on the way over. Twice. Almost a third. Your heart stopped. And Saki had been coming down from the elevator. It was a mess. I couldn't do anything, Tsukasa. None of us could move. Aoyagi-kun's father was the one who..."

She doesn't finish the sentence. 

Tsukasa sits.

He sits and he tells himself not to get upset about it.

About the kind of expressions that his sister, his friends, his juniors - must have worn on their face.

He reminds himself of a sister that was once in his place and he, who was on the other side of it.

Of a doctor and a nurse who had told him this was what it meant to heal.

Not having all the answers.

Holding ghosts of guilt.

Experiencing bouts of pain.

So Touya's father had been there?

Just how many people had he involved?

Saki hadn't mentioned anything in her texts about knowing the details of what had happened to him, and she wouldn't have - because she wouldn't have wanted him to worry.

It's difficult.

He can't do it. 

It's twisting, burning in his chest.

A third-party absent, who couldn't do anything - just the same.

Stuck in a bed.

But in the quiet that comes as Nene stops talking, with the truth set out between them, Tsukasa takes it.

He takes it, and he holds it, and brings the solemn magnitude of quiet towards his chest, snuffing out the wick of a flaring flame.

Very softly, after a moment, he says: 

"Nene. I'm sorry." 

And this time he feels it's right. That he should say it.

For not seeing it before.

For not addressing it. 

"What are you saying sorry for again?" Nene asks, just as quietly, hand shifting on her forehead, dropping, settling back onto her lap.

"For worrying you," says Tsukasa. 

Nene doesn't say she wasn't worried.

There is no denial that comes.

She sits, mouth pressed tight.

"It doesn't hurt, and I'm not scared," he tells her for a second time. "At least right now. But once we leave here, the SEKAI we've run away to, I can't say it'll be the same. I'll probably be in a lot of pain. But I won't keep it secret, and I won't keep it hidden. ...It'd be pretty hard to anyway. Emu's elbow was digging into one of my broken ribs last. I should be back in bed, resting, you're right. So that i won't worry those around me - who so generously care."

He starts to reach out a hand. 

He brings it back to himself. 

Apologetically. 

Earnestly. 

He smiles at Nene. 

"But for those I've worried, I want to see them. More than anything, more than my own needs, first. Can you understand that, Nene? Why before anything else - I'd like to see Rui. You and Emu, you were able to see me face-to-face, to know that even if I'm not one hundred percent, I'm still alright. My parents could sit with me. My little sister could too. There isn't a single one who is unimportant. But it's Rui I need to go to, and Rui I should find. And Touya. And Akito. And everyone else."

"...Do you even hear yourself? You start with Rui, and go to find others, and by the end of everything you've broken all your limbs again."

"I didn't break them all to begin with."

"That's not the point."

"So we agree."

"We haven't agreed on anything." She huffs. "Don't put words in my mouth. Honestly..."

He narrows his eyes at her, ready to fight with her over it. 

But stops, soon after.

Seeing the tiny smile of exasperation on her face.

"Tsukasa, you better talk to Rui properly when we catch up with him, you hear?"

The curve of his own mouth, upwards, accepting, grateful.

"Count on it."

He pauses.

"...Although I'm still a bit lost. What did I misunderstand about Rui?"

Nene sighs. "You're a lost cause."

"Well don't just say that, help me out -"

"Suuurprise!"

Emu reappears, with a flash and bang, and victorious laugh of a triumphant villain.

"I'm back!"

"Emu!" Tsukasa and Nene exclaim.

He looks her over hurriedly as Nene pretends in the background she hadn't just been about to have a heart attack at the sudden yell.

"What took you so long? What were you doing? Did you get caught? I thought you got caught."

"Wa- ha - ha! All those days spent sneaking into your guys' school came in handy," she boasts, glint of victory in her eyes. "A hehe, plus I asked Rui-kun for pointers ages ago and he happily shared all the knowledge he had. Did you miss me? I did a lot of undercover sleuthing. Nene-chan, I bought you some more snacks too."

"You didn't buy me any?" Tsukasa frowns.

"I did, don't worry. It's all in the laundry cart," Emu tells him.

She grabs a hold of his wrists, uncrosses his arms, and brings him to his feet.

Then she turns, and grabs a hold of one of Nene's hands.

"We're in the clear. You've been officially declared missing from the hospital Tsukasa-kun. No one's searching the ground floor anymore, they're just making phone calls to your primary and emergency contacts. So your parents, who were already on their way, and to Touya-kun's father."

"Touya's father?" Tsukasa repeats.

This was the second time hearing of his involvement.

Since when was Touya's father listed as an emergency contact for him?

"Shousuke-onii-chan called me immediately and asked what I did. I told him to go get the cart and bring it to the car, but we have limited time since it probably won't take Shousuke-onii-chan that long to find the one with the moth and snacks in it. So we should go back now."

"I can't believe your plan actually worked," Tsukasa says. "Obviously we're going to be in insurmountable trouble, but that's incredible."

"I said to believe in me," Emu answers cheerfully. 

"Yeah," Tsukasa nods at her, just as brightly. "Sorry, I shouldn't have doubted you." 

The actual implications of Emu's words register in his head two seconds after. 

"The moth is still in the cart?! With the snacks?" 

On Emu's other side, Nene looks at him. 

Incredulous. 

"That's the biggest problem you see here?" 

He looks right back at her.

Terrified. 

"Nene. If that moth is still there, don't you know what it'll do to me? What it'll do to the snacks?" 

"The snacks sealed in air-tight packaging and bags? You should be thinking of your family, nimrod." 

"Fuee, I left you two to talk and you're still fighting?" Emu complains. 

"We're not fighting," Tsukasa and Nene say. 

"Wait." Nene's eyebrows twist. "You left us to talk on purpose?"

"Annnnndd we're going!" 

Emu lets go of them to whip out her phone from the depths of her sweater. 

"The World Hasn't Started Yet - " 

"Hold on - " Tsukasa starts to exclaim. "I'm not prepared for the pain I'll be in - !" 

The window of the train breaks open. 

Without warning. 

The force of the air yanks him right off him feet, backwards, and ridiculously out into the clouds.

He knew there was something wrong with the train.

It chose a really awful time to fall apart.

But there are tiny arms that pillow around his waist, and there's a giggling face lifting off his shirt, and he doesn't feel much of anything in regards to terror or exasperation of fear as he and Emu quite calmly, plummet down.

"I've got him Nene-chan!" she calls back up to nothing, nonetheless, presumably towards Nene who Tsukasa can't even see anymore with the way the train has already carried her away. "We'll meet you outside in the cart!" 

"Emu, I doubt she can hear you," says Tsukasa, wind in his ears, in his mouth, in his voice, as he doesn't even bother to raise it. "But now would be a really good time for us to leave the SEKAI."

"We will," she says, as they continue to fall. 

He had never actually dropped from the train to the ground before in the SEKAI. 

He didn't know what would happen if they did, and he wasn't keen on trying it exactly, but - he'd be lying if he said he wasn't the tiniest bit curious. 

...Would the SEKAI protect them?

"...Tsukasa-kun. Did you have a good talk with Nene-chan?" 

His eyes go from the changing color clouds above them down to her. 

Her chin on his stomach. 

Her eyes, soft and bright. 

He thinks of Nene's words from long ago. 

She likes you. 

"We did," he tells her. "Thank you, Emu." 

His arms come around her.

They squeeze carefully. 

"...And. I'm..."

He doesn't know how to say sorry for it.

What he doesn't yet know is the same feeling between.   

She smiles anyway.

Knowing.

"It's alright."

Her hands behind his back shift.

Her phone.

She speaks, voice near inaudible, quiet, but still so bright.

"Song - end."

The return to the real world, off the flying train, down to reality, into the cramped space of a sterile laundry cart full of blankets and two other bodies, is nothing short of catastrophic.

It's a moth to his nose he opens his eyes to. 

A crutch in his gut.

Emu's elbow in his spleen.

And half of Nene's body trapped beneath his own, bags of chips and broken candy bars under them both.

The pain is so blinding, he tastes it in his mouth, feels it in his ears, with a fuzziness, and muteness that extends to his vision as he takes in the vague, blurry shadows of what looks like Shousuke and Keisuke standing over the cart's in the middle of a conversation.

It's a matter of seconds.

"I'm telling you, aniki, I have a bad feeling about this. Why did she tell us to bring this thing here - "

Emu sits up.

"Woooonderhoiiiii!"

Shousuke's scream of terror - echoes in the parking lot for minutes after.

The pull-out from the hospital is a slow one.

The turn signal a steady click inside the car that shuts off as a turn out of the hospital's parking lot is made - with slower turns, tempoed by Keisuke's sedated driving.

Exhaustion of the car rumbles smoothly as they travel along the tree-lined roads of the outer-city.

Snow sits on every tree, clings to every post, settles on every stretch of cemented walk.

Had Tsukasa not been told and shown the date of January, had he not been in significant amount discomfort and cumbersome pain, reminding him of the incident, of the car - the sudden force; the sudden trauma, the astounding breaking of well-glued together pieces in his head, away from the safety of the SEKAI - no, don't think about it -

It would've felt like no time had passed at all. Like nothing had changed. 

It was December, a few days before Christmas.

They were driving along with Emu's brother on a trip - should they call it favoritism at this point?

Everything was the same.

But he knows it's not. 

He sighs.

It'd be detrimental to think otherwise.

He sits behind the driver's seat. 

Emu lounges behind Shousuke, knees pressed against the back of his seat, the pressure no doubt digging into his spine as she messages rapidly on her phone.

Nene, with an expression of trepidation and suffering discontent, is in between them, also on her phone.

It's a conversation between Emu and Nene and Tsukasa can see every word of it as the texted talk is held in the absolute dead quiet of the car.

| see? plan e worked!

| Plan e? What were the first four plans that they had to be scrapped before they could even be tried?

| no no no, plan e stands for plan emu. as in trust in your friend emu to lead you to safety.

| I see...

Nene texts it back, right as Tsukasa thinks the same.

| Your brothers didn't say a word. should we be worried?

 | i don't think so. keisuke-onii-chan seems fine. shousuke-onii-chan is probably just thinking hard.  

Nene bends her phone slightly, out of Tsukasa's sight, and gives him a look.

"Could you quit eavesdropping?"

"It's not eavesdropping if you're texting," he says back. "Besides, I don't have my phone. I left it back in the hospital room."

She holds the phone away from him more. "That's not my fault."

"It's not mine either!" Tsukasa protests. "I was wheeled out by Emu and got distracted before I realized it. It's not like I haven't read your messages before anyway." 

"What." 

"Because I've seen your passcode. It's not hard to memorize."

Her glare speaks of murder.

"Oi," says Shousuke, speaking for the first time in a long time as they continue driving along the idle roads.

Tsukasa and Nene stop bickering.

But Shousuke stays facing front, and his words, when they come, are directed to Keisuke, not them.

"Why are we not talking about this? They appeared out of thin air."

"There are some things better left alone," is Keisuke's calm response.

"Um. Yeah. Get real. Who are you kidding. This is one of those things that definitely shouldn't be left alone. You want us to drop the subject of teleportation."

"It wasn't teleportation," Emu tells Shousuke.

"And it wasn't anything within the realm of possibility in this universe," Shousuke says in response, eyes on her in the rearview mirror. "So what now?"

"Now you can forget all about it."

"As if!" The disbelief breaks free from him. "And here I tried to give you kids an alibi and you've gone and pulled a stunt like this. The truth is out aniki. Do with it what you will."

"Shousuke."

Keisuke stops at the back of a very long curve of traffic in a roundabout, about ten minutes from the hospital.

A line of snow-crested cars in opposition.

Keisuke turns his head and looks at his younger brother, two hands at perfect posture on the wheel.

"Is this really that strange of an occurrence to you? Our grandfather pulled off much more extraordinary, unexplainable feats when we were kids."

Shousuke's head also turns to look at his older brother. "He wasn't a teleportating magician, aniki!" he half-exclaims. "And we were kids. Of course everything was unexplainable to us back then. But he was just a regular old man."

One of Emu's feet knocks into the back of Shousuke's seat in protest, aghast.

"He wasn't just a regular old man! He was special!" 

"Ow! Emu!"

"Dad would be so upset to hear you say that!"

"Dad would agree with me!"

"No. Emu's correct," Keisuke tells him. "You seem to have forgotten, Shousuke. The one who enjoyed our grandfather's magic shows the most as a kid was you."

"I don't believe that for a second."

Tsukasa and Nene share a look as the trio of Ootori siblings hold a conversation they know nothing about on Ootori-household-magic-shows.

It's reminiscent of their meeting held in the park's warehouse weeks ago. 

Tsukasa glances further down at Nene's lap then, where her phone is, now open to a different contact, typing with a thumb without looking.

The contact is Rui.

| Save me.

"Hey!" Tsukasa cries, shifting his obtrusive crutch over their laps.

His body seizes in pain.

He pushes past the zing of it, and twists where he sits, trying to snatch her phone.

"Nene, have you been texting him this whole time?! Let me see - what does it say?"

She twists in the opposite direction and scoots as close to the distracted Emu as she can in her seatbelt to get away from him.

"K-Knock it off! It was just a message! He hasn't even been answering - "

"Call him!"

"Why didn't you do that from the start with your own phone?" Nene cuts swiftly as he attempts to reach over shoulder. 

"There was a lot going on at the time. Mentally. I wasn't thinking clearly."

"I'm not going to give you my phone so just - "

They fuss.

Emu leans forward, pulling at the corner of Shousuke's cheek, talking about a wizard costume - much to Shousuke's indignation.

And as she does, the window her small body had been blocking shows the wintered scene beyond their vehicle.

Nene's shoulder smudges upwards into Tsukasa's cheek.

He scowls, head forcibly lifted, and finds his eyesight knocked to the sight outside the window.

Where Saki stares at him. 

From the car across from them.

The car trying to merge into the road they had already pulled off of.

Their mother's car. 

Her hair is unkempt. Left out. 

Tsukasa stares back at his sister, wondering if it's a hallucination. 

If it is, it's one that's not moving.

That's sitting in the back, with a hallucination of equal clarity of a father in the passenger seat holding some sort of talk with a mother, who looks ahead at the road, mouth thin, jaw taunt, as his mother would be - supposing she had been called and told the supposed news that Tsukasa had vanished from the hospital. 

His family.

They look like they had hurriedly thrown on clothes.

They look like they're all looking at him now too. 

His mother and father.

And they are. 

Attention drawn by his sister's gaping. 

"...Nene," says Tsukasa, feeling as if his soul has ascended three planes to outer-space and beyond.

"What? Your weight on me is too heavy, I can't sit up," she grouses.

"Good," says Tsukasa, still staring at his equally staring family. "Don't."

Nene does, with strength she had all along.

She side-eyes him in complaint. 

"Geez, what's wrong with you?" 

She follows his line of sight before he can stop her. 

She looks at his family. 

She freezes. 

The light at the roundabout up ahead turns green. 

Traffic sits still for several moments - and a few seconds after. 

Emu plops back into her seat properly, stretched seatbelt snapping, holding her securely in place. 

Keisuke recalls a wizard hat Shousuke used to wear on his head and parade around their estate in. 

Then he chuckles. 

And drives forward. 

Tsukasa's family departs from sight. 

Chapter Text

When Tsukasa was eleven years old, he had stood alone in the middle of a stage - and for a moment - words faltering - glanced around.

He had stood alone on stages before, in acts for his school's festivals or theater class's play, to deliver a line or two. Sometimes three. And there was always the nervous thrill, the sweating anxiety, the fiercely beating heart ready to step out, yet terrified to make a mistake and ruin the show.

He hadn't done it yet - made a mistake on stage, he practiced too hard for that - but there were always first times, and one could never be too safe.

Looking at the script had been a bit harder than usual to get into this time around, and had made him scratch his head and crinkle his nose and bring the pages to his face so close at home, Saki sitting beside him on the couch had told their mom there was something wrong with him.

But on that day, on that stage, in the spring of March, his words for the first time, got stuck in his throat.

He couldn't see his parents in the dim dark cast by the light of the stage. He couldn't see Saki either. Although he was sure they had promised to come.

His eyes had quickly searched again.

Not in the first row, or the second, or the third - he couldn't see to the back - but his family usually always sat supportive at the front and they had said they would be here, it was a promise between them all because the year had been hard for them all, and all of them had decided they would do their best together no matter what would come.

But they weren't there.

Tsukasa, on that stage, remembered his voice and his lines. He gave a wobbly smile. To the audience, delivered the words of gallant heroic guard meant to protect the people from an evil king.

A promise of his own, "I will fight and save you all! Everyone watch the great battle that will unfold!"

He had lowered his sword, finished those hundred-times practiced lines - and clumsily fled the stage.

Bumping into a few of his fellow elementary classmates. Fumbling to the backstage, telling his club teacher he had to go to the bathroom, he was so sorry, he would be back before he needed to next go back on stage.

There was time.

But it wasn't to the bathroom he went, but to a small corner by a coat rack of other costumes and boxes and boxes of props. Anyone could crouch there and hide, and he didn't crouch and he didn't hide, but Tsukasa moved himself out of sight of anyone involved in the show - they were too focused on making sure they weren't missing their cues anyway - and he put his toy sword on the sequined-scattered floor.

And he touched the cape around his neck, and shakily, with clammy, trembling hands, tried to untie it.

Tried to clear his head and get back into the mind of a hero for the people. The hero the people of in their performance needed.

He had already known uncertainties were uncertain things. It was never a guarantee his parents would be able to watch him - that on this day Saki might feel well enough to be able to leave the bed at home - rest was important to heal. 

Right.

Though promises were made, he had to accept that sometimes they couldn't be held.

Tsukasa was eleven years old, and wanted his parents to sit front row and center to proudly clap and celebrate his efforts like his classmates' families were sure to do.

But Tsukasa was eleven years old and that was practically grown, and he knew the reasons he couldn't have things sometimes like everyone else, and it was okay - he wasn't the selfish sort. 

He feels like he had told himself the same thing before. Maybe the year before. The year before that as well. For a lot of years. Since Saki had gotten old enough to really fall ill and Tsukasa had gotten old enough to learn how serious it was a thing to be ill. 

His quaking hands continued to fumble with the knot of his cape, unable to pry it apart.

Right. He would perform a smaller rendition of today's performance at home by himself later for his family. One-man acts weren't technically that hard to do as long as he knew the lines, and he had rehearsed long enough and watched his classmates in their roles long enough that he could do it in his sleep. So sure he would.

After Satoshi's mother dropped him off at his house - because if his parents weren't here - obviously someone else would have to, and Satoshi's mother had done it before - so he guessed at this point even though they didn't hang out much, he and Satoshi's were something like friends.

The voices of the play going on continued to drift back from the distant stage. Tsukasa's hands kept trembling. His tongue stuck in his mouth. Heat burned in his chest, in his throat, at the back of his neck, through his arms. Swallowing was difficult but he tried.

Eleven was too old to get frustrated with things that couldn't be helped - he told himself again. This was the reality. He was good enough to navigate it.

To get over it.

Tsukasa crouched down, and in that dark corner of that tiny nook in the back of the cluttered rear behind the stage, he covered his mouth with his hands and hid.

Heaving.

Cut it out, he had desperately thought. Not here. He was still at school. This was something to deal with in an empty home; a quiet home. Not here. He squeezed his eyes shut and his hands went into his hair, holding it just a bit, digging in just a bit, as if the gesture would bring him back to earth, would ground him where he hid.

He wanted to see his parents. His father and his mother. He swallowed down the want, bit down on the ache. 

Enough.

He opened his eyes, like forcing a frozen hand in a biting winter open, uncurled his fingers from his hair.

He fixed his costume. Embarrassed, he stood.

Next time, he told himself, his parents would come. This was no big deal. He would perform and perform many more times again.

He had joined his classmates at the curtains on the threshold of the stage, whispering small greetings, offering tiny smiles and a thumbs up, a little off angle, to those coming and leaving the stage.

When it was his turn again, his cue, he went back onto the small stage of their elementary school auditorium again, and finished his role to the end.

And when the play came to an end, as all inevitably did, he bowed with the rest, holding hands, and holding tears.

And he lifted his head in the resounding applause of bigger hands in the audience of everyone's teachers and loved ones.

To see his family right there.

Proudly clapping. Smiling fondly.

Saki too. In the aisle. They must have come from the back of the auditorium. Had they been there all along?

Tsukasa had blinked beneath the stage lights, a bit dazed, beneath the confusion, the relief, the warmth. And he had blinked and blinked some more, until they were wet, and they burned.

Oh, he remembered hearing in his own head. His heart had squeezed. It was a painful, painful thing. They really are here. 

In the walk to the car to the parking lot among the sea of others, Tsukasa's mother had held his hand and told him how much of a great job he had done. His father spoke admirations on the stage decorations and set work. Saki clung to his other arm, with a grip with no strength, but tight. Her twin pigtails, her puffy pink coat and white earmuffs and thick, white gloves. Stubbornly pushed out cheeks, puffed and scorned, and he knew that look. He'd seen it before.

"I know you didn't think we would come," was what she said. 

"That's not true," he had lied.

His mother squeezed his other hand, light, as if calling him out.

But it was his father, a ways in front of them, unlocking their car, who spoke. "Your mother, sister and I made a promise when you told us of your play to see it no matter what. We also promised to try our best at all we could do moving forward, even more than what we're doing. Remember?"  

It was asked kindly.

Yes, Tsukasa remembered. He stood there in front of their car, in the crisp but blooming season of a green spring, and looked down at his feet.

No bravado. No facade.

Just him, himself, full of guilt and regret. 

"I'm sorry," he had said.

He shouldn't have doubted them. This family that did everything for him, and everything for Saki too, and everything for each other.

That loved each other and cared.

His father had come over then, from the car, and set a hand on his head. A grounding one, like he always did.

"What for?" his father had asked. "You did nothing wrong. It was a fantastic performance. Tsukasa, you did very well."

"It was me," Saki had spoken up then, looking at Tsukasa earnestly, determinedly, if not a little self-consciously. "I - Just in case - I asked if we could... stay near the back."

"The nausea from this morning still hasn't left," their mother had gently shared.

Incredible. Tsukasa, no different than usual, was so selfish, only thinking of wanting to be seen - only thinking of himself. 

He hated himself.

"You should have stayed home," he told Saki.

She didn't have to push herself for him. If he had been more considerate -

But his words must have been the wrong ones to say, because Saki had angrily stepped on his foot and stomped away, and turned back to gather a handful of snow, and throw it at his face.

It was kind of.... the look Saki had on her face right now.

Only somehow worse.

Maybe because they were older, that look of frustration from their younger days - now just looked like a face that wanted murder.

"Do you think..." Tsukasa gambles, "we could park somewhere else?"

Because they were just along the side of the curb and bike path outside the downtown shopping mall, by a line of frosted hedges, lampposts and innocent bystanders enjoying the blue skies of the afternoon. It doesn't seem the most appropriate place for a confrontation. There are plenty of window shops but nowhere to hide - and hiding was an impossible thing anyway in the car - in the unlocked car Keisuke didn't seem like he was going to lock.

It turned out Keisuke had noticed the new car following them after fifteen minutes, and had continued to notice for the extra fifteen minutes after. But he had said absolutely nothing about it and gave any indication he was aware of it until he had already pulled them to a stop here.

Granted Tsukasa and Nene's sudden and absolute silence in the backseat after their bickering might have given something away - and the ringing of Emu's phone shortly after Tsukasa had looked his family in the eye - and her short-lived conversation - "Saki-chan! Hm? Tsukasa-kun? No, he's not here at all! S-Sorry Saki-chan ahahaha - w-wonderhoy-!" - probably contributed to it too.

Nene had hung up the phone for her.

Shousuke had brought a hand over his eyes and rubbed his forehead for a great deal of a time. Grieved. "I don't get paid for this..."

So... here they were.

No escape. It was impossible to calculate how far he could make it on foot in the state that he was. So he didn't even try.

It would just be a humiliating affair.

In the side mirror on Keisuke's side, Tsukasa watches Saki, his little sister, leave their parents car parked behind them.

He watches her, in a pink puffy coat, white earmuffs, white gloves, storm towards them.

Not away.

"Tsukasa, what are you going to do?" Nene worriedly asks.

"Should we try to run again?" Emu asks, just as worried.

"I don't know," says Tsukasa.

He doesn't know.

It's indescribable, the feeling inside of him seeing his little sister head his way. Like a memory, far away. How many times had she found him before? Had he found her? He doesn't know but he wonders what Saki thinks when she sees him too. Someone dependable? Someone there for her? Or a ridiculous brother making countless mistakes?

Briefly, he tears his eyes from her, and meets Keisuke's patient gaze in the reflection of the rearview mirror.

And remembers something once said to him by the other, in what feels like ages ago, in a hospital room, in a hospital chair.

"It's alright to take the time."

"I'm sure those you're thinking about, feel the same as us."

"Indisputable happiness - that you're here."

Tsukasa closes his eyes.

Saki sure didn't look happy. She never did when they fought. But what were the reasons they ever fought?

Because they constantly misunderstood. Because they were never clear.

He loves his family. They love him back. That was never in question - never in doubt.

He knows.

Tsukasa steels himself and sets a hand on the door handle.

Saki's right there, almost there -

"We don't have to run," he says to everyone in the car, mostly to himself. "We probably shouldn't have in the first place."

"We aren't fugitives, we aren't breaking the law, why did we leave the hospital to begin with, what's wrong with us," asks Shousuke as if in the middle of a demon-banishing mantra, "Keisuke, you're dealing with the parents, this is your fault -"

Tsukasa never gets the chance to open his side of the door.

It's yanked right open.

The force of it takes him with it.

He barely gets a handle on his crutch. It nearly hits Nene. Maybe it does before she ducks as she yelps.

He doesn't know.

Saki's livid hands are on him, pulling him front.

Cold air touches his skin. Seizes his breath, a soft exhale from punctured lungs. Pain ricochets - lightning from finger-to-head-to-body. His brain stutters. Out of his mouth a small exclamation, taken aback. Overextension, too much of it, and for a moment, he can't see. For a moment, he can't hear. The piercing ring in his ears is thin, long and shrill.

He's not in the SEKAI anymore. He shakes himself. The healing will hurt.

It will hurt.

A long time he had misunderstood something in the backstage at eleven years old. He had thought he was grown. But he wasn't. He still isn't. He still has a long way to go.

But where he would get was nowhere, if he kept hiding, if he kept lying, about how he felt.

He wonders if Saki feels the same. If they had been honest before Christmas would they be here like this?

They couldn't know. 

Saki hugs him impossibly tight, angrily weeping, hot tears buried in his neck.

Tsukasa's arms, aching as they are, heavy as they are with the weight of many things, lift and carefully hug her back.

When they were younger the thought of her in tears killed him inside, to the point he thought he'd rather be dead than to have to witness them again. So he had tried to do everything, anything in his power, to banish the emotions that would lead to crying away.

'A hero never cries!'

They did, he thinks to himself.

They did a lot.

And he thinks about what he never said back then. What should have been said when they were smaller.

There was a lot they had to accept as kids. Maybe what they had to accept wasn't the same, but still they had to do it.

There was pain in watching others suffer and pain in being alone.

Tsukasa thought he could never understand it, all the things Saki felt. At her bedside in the hospital, on a visit, he had played 'I Spy' with her in a book head full of thoughts though he smiled and joked.

'The most important times in your life, everything you missed out on, the things you couldn't get back. There's so much. Aren't you scared? How do you do it? You're strong, Saki. Stronger than anyone else I know.' 

When Tsukasa had asked her once if she was lonely, she had said 'Sometimes. But not always.' A small, blooming grin - joy for herself - for them. 'I have good things too.'

 It really would've been easier to run than to try and have tough conversations.

But there was always going to be bad things.

They just had to overcome them.

There were good things too.

She had told him once, as he cut a melon at her side. 

Muffled in her neck, Tsukasa hugs her tighter though it hurts, and says what eleven year old him should have said all along because just like him - Saki could make choices for herself too.

"It's really good to see you. I'm sorry. Thank you for coming." 

They sit on a bench along the sidewalk in perfect view of both the cars they had come in.

Emu and Shousuke are doing a terrible job of pretending they're not looking at Tsukasa and Saki from inside the windows of Keisuke's fancy vehicle.

Nene is outside of it, thin arms tucked under her, by the hedges, on the phone talking, squinting at the ground. To who he doesn't know, but she should really dress heavier, is what Tsukasa thinks for the hundredth time to himself.

But so should he.

His red knees grow redder by the second, slightly bruised and scraped from his tumbles back at the hospital. And he seriously had been out of his mind hadn't he?

All of them had.

Why hadn't anyone noticed he didn't have a coat?

He still wasn't wearing anything except a shirt and shorts and white hospital shoes Emu had tossed into the cart on her solo excursion from SEKAI to reality. Where had Keisuke been planning to drive them to anyway? No one had ever said. To 'Rui' was beyond vague. 

"You don't think we'll get in legal trouble, do you?" he finally asks his sister, gazing ahead to where Keisuke and their parents talk between their cars.

They had been sitting for nearly twenty minutes, in one another's companies, in total quiet.

"...I don't know much about legal things," answers Saki next to him. "Maybe not. Dad called the hospital once we noticed you and spoke to someone there. I wasn't listening much."

She doesn't look at him. It's fine.

Though they hugged, she's still mad.

Of course long-standing emotions couldn't be fixed with only that.

She hasn't said a thing about how poorly he's dressed. He's certain it's on purpose. A pointed - 'you reap what you sow, next time think about the consequences'.

That's fine too. His crutch rests slanted half in his arm, bottom on cracks of the ice-touched sidewalk beneath their feet.

A gaggle of people cross behind them. A pair of friends next. A giggling couple.

When they pass, Saki talks again. Small clouds puff from her mouth as she speaks. "I'm mad at you."

"I know."

"I'm really, really mad at you onii-chan."

"I know."

"I don't want to talk to you."

It stings.

"...I understand."

She talks to him regardless. The sting soothes.

"Yesterday, I bought you apples," she says. "The bland ones that only you like. I was planning on bringing them on the next visit. The doctors said you'd be okay to leave in two more weeks, maybe less if you recovered well. Actually, I bought oranges before. So you could enjoy them in the winter, like we do at home. I brought them to the hospital while you were sleeping, but they told me it would interfere with your medication. So I split them between Touya-kun and myself and set the rest aside for mom and dad."

That's right. A part of Tsukasa had forgotten that while he slept, the holidays had passed, and so had winter break - there would be classes in school again.

But Saki and Touya didn't go to the same school.

"It was before you woke," says Saki as if reading his mind, still gazing straight ahead. "We sat on a bench, Touya-kun and I, just like this, beneath your window at the hospital, and ate while mom and dad handled all the adult stuff."

She smiles, but it's not the sort that reaches her eyes.

Tsukasa gazes at her with regret - and holds the feeling - so he doesn't forget.

"You know. Touya-kun. He really doesn't talk much with me except offering advice and giving formal pleasantries. Still 'Saki-san' no matter how many times I tell him 'Saki is fine! we're friends like family too!'. I was in the hospital a lot as a kid, so I couldn't bond with him. Not as much as you - until recently - when I was finally able to start going to school again and see all my friends I thought left me behind."

She laughs, softly, shoulders bunching, head tilting forward the tiniest inch as the expression in her eyes becomes hidden by her falling hair.

He wants to reach out. To speak.

Tsukasa doesn't though. He waits for her to share it all. He needs to know it too. The thoughts of the sister he would sacrifice himself to the world for. 

"It was so embarrassing, onii-chan. We had those oranges and all he could do was sit in silence next to me as I cried. He offered me what was left of his own, but all it did was make me cry more. It was totally uncool. I'm a real big crybaby, you know. That's never changed. But if I had never cried, maybe we wouldn't be where we are right now. Or if I had told him what I was feeling, he could've helped me find an answer. There's nothing wrong with that. It's frustrating I kept thinking there was." 

Saki's smile gets a little crooked. Her head stays down.

"Touya-kun disappeared for a while after that happened. Almost two hours. When he came back, he'd won this ridiculously huge plushie from the arcade he caught a bus to. He told me to name it for you. That you'd like it a lot. So we spent forever thinking of a perfect name for it - but none of the names seemed right. 'Tsukasa-senpai is the best at this after all ' - is what Touya-kun said after a while. He hadn't meant to say it aloud. I could see it from his face. He looked so surprised after it came out, for a moment, neither of us knew what to do. But..."

Her voice trembles.

"It was the truth."

There is pain in Saki's words. She's blinking rapidly. Trying not to let them wet.

There is a lump in Tsukasa's throat. His grip on his crutch grows harder. I'm sorry, he thinks.

Of course Saki doesn't hear. How could she? He never said it aloud. 

"You and Touya-kun.... It's always you two who wind up having big, long conversations without me. I can never get you two to stop once you start. You walk off or stay behind together, and by the time I look behind me or ahead - you're out of reach. Touya-kun follows you without question. He'll help you with anything, and you'll let him, because that's how much you mean to him and how much he means to you. Touya-kun was there when we were younger; when I couldn't be. He's still there when I can't be. When you won't let me."

Her voice breaks. She lifts her head, but her eyes are squeezed tightly shut, tears spilling down their side.

He doesn't want to see this. 

"Onii-chan, there are so many people who love you. I wish you would let one of us - any of us - love you as much as you love us. I don't understand why you'll go so far to hurt yourself for others. ....Why can't you just take care of yourself? What were you leaving the hospital for...?"

For who? 

The question is unspoken and he hears it anyway.

His right hand lifts, the closest, and this time he reaches for her.

She bats away his hand, upset.

Then snatches it, more upset.

And clutches it tight between both of her own.

The warmth of her gloves takes the cold burn of his numb fingers away. "Onii-chan, please," she begs, looking at him. Looking at him behind the tears. "Please stop for a moment, and help me understand. You don't need to help others. You don't have to try so much or worry. Why don't you get that?"

"Saki," her name on his tongue sits for a second.

He hadn't talked to her for a long, long time after all.

"Saki," he says again. His heart is painfully full. "You're asking me to stop. I won't. I can't."

She looks at him, stricken. "Onii-chan-!"

He wipes her tears with his other hand, and offers a smile, weak and small, and true. "Sorry. I don't know how to." His smile weaker. "Does that make you hate me?"

Saki's face contorts.

It twists, a tumble of emotions, fierce and grieved, crossing at once. Like she wants to grab him by the neck and strangle him to death.

But she stops. She catches herself.

As if telling herself, from the remnant of a conversation from old, something important.

"....You don't know it, right?" she asks, nose stuffed, eyes red.

He looks at her confused.

She stares back at him. "...about how good you are."

"I'm not," he tells her.

"Yes, you are," she tells him back. Her hold on his hand grows stronger. "But you don't know it. I've been thinking that for a while. This whole while. I thought I told you before. That I've always had good things."

Yes, but they couldn't pretend he had always been one of those good things. They had stepped on each other's toes a lot, contrary to popular belief, and argued about even the smallest things behind closed doors. It was usually that they just made up.

They cared too much about each other not too.

"We do have a lot of good things," he agrees aloud.

Thinking of their family, their house, their friends.

"A home safe and warm," Saki says. "A friend that traveled across cities to visit me, though it must've cost Icchan and her mom a fortune. They are very good things. Like that foolish big brother of mine who always did his best to make me smile. Who loved me, more than he loved himself."

A shake of her head.

"I was scared. It hurt. Mom never let you see me on the days that were the worst. I didn't want you to come. Every day I slept that I could remember, I didn't know if the next morning I would wake. I was grateful everyday that I could live. I was sick of everyday that I was alive. I constantly thought 'Do things like this ever get better? Is it even possible for things like this to get better? If I wasn't here, wouldn't that be a good thing too?"

 "Saki - " he says immediately upset at the words.

"A mom and dad and brother that never gave up," Saki goes on.

She lowers her hands and his to her lap.

"...I should do my best too," she says after a moment of quiet. "I told myself I would. So that no one would ever have to worry again. But I can never do it right. My friends will always worry. Our parents will always worry. My big brother will always worry the most."

She laughs. It's a broken thing full of remorse and an abundance of spilling love.

"I'm so lucky...! I'm so lucky you're still here. This is what a good thing is, onii-chan, do you understand that?"

She speaks with everything she has, a visage of herself when she was younger, unsure if there would be anything she would have.

"Being alive. Getting to live. Having people who care - who love you even when it's hard to see the same love for yourself. Onii-chan, my big brother, being alone is so painful, it feels like my chest is being crushed. If you were gone, I wouldn't be able to stand it. You don't have to pretend when it hurts. You can shout it out - we'll make it better. Isn't that what you told me once? I'll tell you when I'm hurting. I'll tell you when I'm scared. So please stop looking out for me! I promise I'm alright!"

The eruption echoes. For a moment it's as if nothing but silence sits in the air.

Their parents look towards them.

Emu and Shousuke too. 

Keisuke and Nene. 

A lot of people are.

Tsukasa can feel eyes on their heads. His own head rattles somewhat loudly. Echoing from the force of Saki's convictions. 

Oh, he thinks, distantly, faintly, as if he's back on that stage again beneath lights to a thunderously clapping audience around. That's how she really felt.

Everyone who knew them always joked or commented on his overbearing nature when it came to her, but he hadn't thought too much of it. Because he knew himself Saki could take care of herself, that she was her own person, free to go anywhere and do anything and live as grand and great as anyone else.

He just wanted her to be able to keep taking care of herself. To keep being free. And he'd do whatever for her sake. 

....Maybe that was something overbearing in itself.

He gazes at Saki. She gazes back at him - hesitance taking away the harshness of her explosion - in doubt of herself.

He offers her a smile. A real one. Still small. But incredibly sincere.

He feels something in him. Like a SEKAI swelling with noise and lights. A touch of familiar voices in his heart and in his head. Urging him, pushing him ahead.

"I wish for your happiness," Tsukasa says. "Yours, and mother's, and father's. Our friends'."

It hurts a lot.

"I hate the feeling of being useless, unable to help. Maybe that's why I do things without thinking. Why we're here like this. I can't stand the feeling. It's like I'm being broken apart."

He doesn't feel okay. He hates what's happened to himself.

How hurt he is.

Because he should be greater than this.

He was greater than this.

Tenma Tsukasa is a star. 

"I don't understand how this could have happened. Did I have to get hit by a car? Why did I get hit?" he questions. No one could tell him those answers. "It's so careless. It's ruined so much. What kind of holiday was this? I'm trying to accept it, but it's difficult. It's easier if I can pretend there's nothing wrong. To be around others."

He thinks of Keisuke and Shousuke and Emu and Nene.

"To forget."

But he shouldn't forget. He couldn't really. Very carefully his clenched fist sets down on his thigh, like a gavel of judgment. His face further twists.  

Be honest. He had promised Nene in the SEKAI.

Yet why was it harder to be honest with his sister than his friends?

He doesn't know why, but he knows -

"All of these weeks gone." His voice breaks. It crumples. His head bows. He breaks. "If I couldn't walk again, if I couldn't perform, if I wasn't here - "

He feels sick thinking about it.

The truth he hadn't acknowledged. 

"I was dead," he says. "I don't want to be," he says.

Saki's hand falls over his again. There is understanding in her eyes more than anything else.

"You're going to get better," she assures him. "Everyone will be okay. I'll be at your side with mom and dad, every step of the way."

He wonders if he can believe it as strongly as her.

But maybe it was as simple as this.

Freeing her of doubts - by having certainty in himself.

Like he had done for her since they were kids.

But in a different way, unlike when they were kids.

"...I'm glad you stopped running," Saki says. She's tearing up once more, but the tears hold fast against her eyes, stubbornly refusing to fall. "Don't do it again. Okay?"

Saki gives him her earmuffs and gloves.

She's in the process of debating over whether to give him her coat too, while he argues against her not to, when their father comes to them and brings the brewing squabble to a close.

He zips his own coat up to Tsukasa's neck and pats him on the head. Then pats Saki's head next and tells her:

"Your mother's in the car."

She was.

How long had he and Saki been talking for?

Tsukasa hadn't noticed it while with Saki, but at some point their mother had gotten back into the car, the passenger side this time, appearing to be taking a rest. Now the bustle and noise of the open mall not too far behind them sunk into his ears.

Emu and Shousuke had, at some point he didn't know, left their car and joined Nene and Keisuke outside of it.

A short distance away, staying on the curb, looking in wait towards him and his father.

It's an odd sort of realization why. 

A dawning.

Tsukasa looks back at his dad, up at him, feeling small, though he's standing, with the crutch under one arm for support.

"...You're letting us go? Me go?"

His father's gaze lingers on the mismatched collection of humans of the troupe Tsukasa was a part of. "Not too far. Not for too long. Ootori-san expressed there was something you felt you needed to do. Something difficult from a hospital room and bed." He brings his gaze to Tsukasa. "....Your sister loves you very much."

Tsukasa nods. "I know."

"We love you very much."

Tsukasa swallows hard. Nods again. "...I know."

It's hard to hold his father's gaze.

There's something in there, so steadfast, it frightens Tsukasa to his core. 

Why? He thinks.

Is he frightened of the truth?

That they love him like nothing else? 

Why?

"I'm glad she spoke to you," he hears his father say. "For all your mother and I tried, it was Saki who you needed to hear it from the most. That you're good. Right?"

Tsukasa looks up, startled.

His father smiles. Helplessly fond. 

He pats Tsukasa on the head yet again, and its a grounding gesture, and this time his hand stays.

"A long time ago, Saki asked us to make sure you were okay. She seven. You were eight. She had fallen sick during Christmas. You must remember it. You had been playing in the park with your friends and she collasped in the snow."

Tsukasa's brows furrow. "Why did she ask you to...?"

"'I fell', is what she had said," his father calmly shares. "'I was fine. I didn't want him to tell'. You told us regardless. You thought we would be upset with you if you didn't. Saki thought we would be upset with her if we knew she had gotten hurt. Of course, we weren't upset with either of you. Accidents happen, and the fault lied with neither you or her. But us. As your parents."

It hits Tsukasa hard. Their fault? 

How could anything involving him and Saki be their fault? 

His father removes his hand from his head.

"...We should have addressed it then. ...We wondered if the timing was appropriate. You were both young, and at the time of the incident, upset at one another and at yourselves. Would you be able to understand it, if we had told the both of you that it's alright to be honest and have your own thoughts? To care about each other and tell one another what hurts you, without hiding the truth?"

His father glances over his shoulder to where Tsukasa's mother and sister are in the car, talking to one another by the looks of it.

His father glances back to Tsukasa, seeming to take in the sight of him, for just a minute.

A long minute of time.

Seeing something else. 

"We made a mistake," his father says. "Wrong judgment. We should've given you two more credit. Our children who are so considerate of one another, who care for each other, and love another so dearly, they'll grow up to be independent. These frustrations are only because of where we are, and the difficult situations we're experiencing right now. They'll understand it when they're older. When we explain it to them then. That was the sort of thing your mother and I discussed. But it was careless. Saki relapsed more than we thought, up until her first year of high school. Even now, her body is still learning its limits. ...And in the end, neither of you were able to be honest to one another, or yourselves."

His father's smile is lopsided.

Tsukasa knows he looks like his dad the most. Had this been the exact face Saki had witnessed on him moments before?

He understands her even more now. 

He snatches his dad's hand with the good one of his own - and for the first time since he was a child - squeezes it.

"Dad."

The formality of 'father' that Tsukasa had changed to at seven years old ever since he had convinced himself he was grown - comes back to him - like when he had been smaller, six years old, not as burdened, eagerly grabbing his dad's hand for a walk outside the house.

He wobbles unsteady on his single crutch.

He hisses.

His dad steadies him.

Tsukasa keeps holding his hand. "I really love you," he says.

His dad's smile is still lopsided. "I wish we had been better, Tsukasa. Our hard-working, kind son. Can you forgive your careless parents? Your absent mom and dad?"

...Well.

He had already hurt himself a thousand times today.

Tsukasa surges forward and wraps one good arm around his dad.

Sucking in breath, overwhelmed again, shaking, like the tears spilling out. 

He can't help it.

"I never needed to," he tells his dad and it's the truth.

The person he had never forgiven had always been himself.

"...You know your mom wants to have a word with you eventually," his dad tells him, voice a little shaky, tight, with relief.

"Not now?" Tsukasa questions into his father's sweater that had been underneath his coat.

"No, not now," his dad answers. "Although she does have questions about something else. Your friend - Kamishiro Rui - was it?"

Eh?

Tsukasa chokes hearing the name. He pulls back from his dad, floundering, not unlike a fish about to get flayed.

"Ootori-san mentioned your business was with him," his dad supplies. "He came by our house. It was a few days after Christmas, before the New Year. He brought a gift and asked us to keep it for you, but not before giving an incredibly humble bow and asking for our forgiveness."

Nene hadn't mentioned that. Emu hadn't either. Was it that neither of them had known?

"Why would he do that?" Tsukasa asks his dad, flabbergasted.

And when he asks he feels a little bit outside of himself. Had Rui really gone and made contact with everyone but him? While Tsukasa had almost thrown a fit in the hospital against Keisuke all concerned like a maniac that Rui had cut himself off from the outside world? Out delivering gifts? To his house? Not to the hospital - directly to him? Like a delayed Santa?

Tsukasa has to take a second to remind himself that not a lot of people wanted to see someone they cared about near death in a white hospital on a white bed.

That Emu had to muster up courage to see him. That Touya and Saki had struggled to come. That Nene had fled.

That Akito had been the one to apparently, consistently, visit the most, to curse him out in anger as he slept in comatose recovery. Because Tsukasa had died in front of him. Twice. 

It reminds him he needs to see Touya.

To see Akito too.

But to his question full of many other questions within, Tsukasa's dad simply looks at him.

And lifts an eyebrow.

Soon after, when Tsukasa gives nothing else, his dad's other eyebrow joins the first. And both raised brows impressively judge him in only the way a disbelieving parent can.

"Guilt and self-loathing aside, I imagine it's because he loves you, Tsukasa. The same way you love him."

Huh?

"Huh?" Tsukasa echoes aloud. Spooked. "What?"

What did his dad just say?

"I said..." his dad repeats slowly, watching Tsukasa as if concerned for his well-being, but also beyond amused. "I imagine it's because he - "

"I heard that!" Tsukasa quickly interrupts. "That part," he hastily amends. Heat flames his ears and cheeks. Mortification and he can't quite place why. The crutch he steps back to clutch with the full force of both hands under his arm feels suddenly sweaty. "Um. It's not - that - There's a - misunderstanding?"

"Alright," his father says. And it's father now because this father for some reason knows a great deal too much. "But you're going to see him now right?" his father questions, very nearly a different person - as if he hadn't been crumbling apart in front of Tsukasa at the gratitude of seeing him alive moments before.

That had been the plan. But now Tsukasa felt like maybe he shouldn't. That he should get in the car with his parents and Saki and go home - to the gift Rui left you - his brain unhelpfully supplies - and alright, so either way, never mind, he couldn't avoid Rui.

Not that he wanted to in the first place. His very reason for leaving the hospital on a whim, so chaotically, had been for him.

Tsukasa slumps over his crutch.

His father hands him a card.

"You remember the pin," his father tells him. "Spend it on something nice and talk it out. You know your mother and I, when we first met, enjoyed going to - "

Tsukasa swivels on his crutch, nearly hits the ground, straightens himself, and hobbles with the speed of a dying racecar to where the Wondershow troupe had been extremely, patiently, waiting him out.

"Ootori-san, we'll wait," Tsukasa's father calls out. 

Keisuke waves an amicable hand of agreement.

"You have very reasonable parents," he says after, completely unfazed to Tsukasa, who's furiously red and ridiculously out-of-breath. "Are you hungry? Thirsty?" he inquires. "We might have some time." 

Before what? Tsukasa wants to ask. But his throat is parched beyond belief. And he's sore, and tired, and mentally reeling.  He'd been sitting for a long time with Saki, but he wants to sit again now. And find a shovel along the way to pack him beneath the snowy ground.

They're already at the mall. It probably wouldn't hurt much more to find something to drink. To gather his bearings, all that had happened, and sit some more. 

Alright food, his brain says. His desire to see Rui was now diminished, replaced with cowardice. Because you're scared, his brain says. 

Could you please be quiet? he tells his brain in return. 

Really, seriously, why did they leave the hospital? It was turning into an emotional field trip with no end. He suddenly felt like he'd been pummeled by a great deal too many things.

Perhaps the exhaustion on his face shows.

Nene, making no mention of the confrontation between him and Saki or him and his father, moves carefully to stand at his side. Emu pulls away the crutch from his other, and tucks herself underneath his arm, giving full support with a scrawny but powerful arm.

"We should get food," Emu decides. "My stomach was rumbling the entire time you and Saki-chan talked Tsukasa-kun. My jii-chan used to tell us to eat a lot after we cried, and you cried a lot."

"I didn't cry," says Tsukasa. 

"Yes you did," says Nene. "Everyone saw you."

"Can we reserve a table at the curry house Keisuke-onii-chan?" Emu inquires. 

"The one next to the arcade here?" Keisuke questions. "Perhaps. But Tsukasa, you aren't able to eat that are you?"

Tsukasa didn't know what he was allowed to eat. He should've investigated more before leaving the hospital without food or fluids. He should have done a lot of things. A weakness, a growing, strong sense of it, is settling beneath his skin more and more by the second - a lightheadedness pushing against him. Too much at once. 

If he could think about it, he would think about why Keisuke wasn't particularly concerned with going anywhere and why his parents weren't either. 

It's hard to make sense of it. Wasn't he supposed to be going on an errand? 

Now everyone seemed content to stay? 

Fogginess contends inside him. "Should I go back to the hospital?" he asks aloud. 

"Yes," answers Nene next to him, quietly. 

"Tsukasa-kun, do you not want to eat?" Emu asks, concerned. 

He doesn't think so. He kind of just wants to pass out.

He wars within himself whether he should say that to them out aloud too. 

But it's Shousuke who seems to be the most conflicted of them all. In the midst of the conversation, he grasps his chin and stares at Tsukasa. Bewildered. Concerned. Mostly perplexed.

"You're dating Rui?" He says it loud. Brows twisted deep. And with an utter. "...That explains a lot."

Tsukasa couldn't be more mortified that that part of the exchange he had with his dad had been heard as well.

He couldn't be. Yet he was. 

"We're n-not," stutters Tsukasa, fumbling over words again. How many times would he have to fight it? "We aren't -"

He cuts himself off, and sighs, defeated, bringing a hand to his swimming head in miserable lamentation. He could barely feel it. Was his body losing feeling? Was he going numb? 

Bedrest, he thinks. He should find a bed. 

"Forget about it," Tsukasa mumbles. "I can't win."

"Tsukasa-kun?" Emu fixes her hold on him. "Are you alright?" 

"Hm?" He hears her like he's a fish trapped in a bubble beneath rising waters. "I'm alright." 

"You certainly look unwell to me" acknowledges Rui's voice. "Is there a party happening? I'm somewhat hurt I wasn't invited sooner."

Nene and Emu twist around.

Tsukasa does not. 

He stares at Shousuke instead for a minute who stares back at him - and stares at Keisuke next - who's looking not at him - but slightly above and over his head.

So he wasn't hallucinating.

Okay.

Great.

With Emu's support, Tsukasa slowly, awkwardly, turns halfway around like her where he stands, trying to figure out what in the world is going on, why the person they were supposed to be looking for is here.  

"Thanks for the call, Nene," Rui comments, but his eyes are on Tsukasa and Tsukasa alone. "I thought I'd never catch up."

Nene on the phone. 

Of course. 

Rui doesn't smile. There's nothing on his face. Nothing that gives any ounce of his heart away. 

Tsukasa thinks someone else must already have it. Holding it, like the lack of air in Tsukasa's lungs.

He holds what breath he has left, and its reminiscent of their argument in the snow. Swirling - like the odd snow now dancing in Tsukasa's head. 

Back then, Rui hadn't been mad. Not like Tsukasa had been mad at him. But Rui had been properly dressed. Like he was now. Properly dressed. In the button-down blue jacket of his and brown turtleneck beneath and simple black gloves. Well-kept looking. Not annoyed or furious at anything that had happened or was happening now still. 

Like he hadn't been the mess Nene had described him as. The grieving, apologetic mess everyone else but Tsukasa had seen.

A spare scarf is in Rui's hands. It's soft. Teal blue.

It looks familiar. 

Emu glances between them - and wisely steps aside.

As she does, Rui steps forward to settle the scarf around Tsukasa's neck. His fingers are warm. They brush his ears, his neck, his chin. 

Wrapping it once.

Twice.

Pausing back at the front with both hands on it, and staring at his own hands, like keeping both of them on it right there is the only thing stopping him from wrapping it a third time and maybe fourth and fifth and sixth. 

Or strangling him like Saki had wanted to.

It's hard to tell. 

"You should really be in the hospital," Rui speaks to him then, quietly. Deceptively calm, despite the deep-set emotion Tsukasa can feel beneath each word. "Were you looking for me?"

Tsukasa nods in silence.  

Rui lifts his eyes, a universe in them, and meets Tsukasa's gaze.  

Leaning forward - just a bit.  

"Very well Tsukasa-kun. I'm here. Will you go back with me?"

For some reason Tsukasa thinks of a time machine.

For some reason his vision is twisting around, like stars in a universe, he's seeing them too.  

Belatedly, he remembers he has parents in a car right there. That there are a whole lot of others - right there. 

"What are you doing here?" he tries to ask, so overcome with drowning emotion, and bursting relief, curdling stupefication, and contrition.

All of it - the regret, the fear, the care, felt in an unseen punch to the gut right there. It'd been days. It'd been forever.

"Are you okay? What's going on?"

He wants to grab Rui by the collar. Search him carefully head to toe for injury or hurt though Tsukasa had been hit with the car Rui was mindless at times so no one could ever be sure - and Tsukasa hadn't seen him - had only heard of him - But that would be overreacting. And he's a bit too disoriented for that. Besides Rui's fine. Maybe not fine, fine. But fine in the sense that he's here. Just like Tsukasa looked fine - from a distance - sort of. That kind of functioning 'fine-okay'.

It's uncanny calm in Tsukasa at the knowledge of that, like all the noise and fight in him, to move, to act, to struggle - has died and gone away. 

"I'm sorry." 

He was sorry to Rui.

"I care about you." 

He cared about Rui.

"Where have you been? I wished you had visited me." 

Technically he guesses Rui had. 

But none of those tumbling, rushing streams in his mind escape.

None at all. 

Just one stray thought, bothering him the most.

A very weak and embarrassing -

"Rui."

And horrific wet in his eyes. And breathless despair. 

This wasn't like seeing Saki again. Not like seeing his father. Not like seeing his friends. 

"Will you please tell them we're not in love?" 

Rui doesn't blink. 

But Nene does guffaw and Shousuke does look at them and Emu coughs and Keisuke fixes his glasses on his nose - and are Saki and his parents still in the car -?

And no one says anything, and no one moves. 

Until he does. 

If there is an answer, he doesn't hear one.

Because finally Tsukasa's strength finally gives out, and he tumbles unconscious into their arms.

Swimming in snow, drowning in slumber, static grief - touched by fleeting stars. 

They're not in love. 

He's just in love with Rui enough that it still hurts. 

Chapter Text

"Tsukasa-kun, you've become more honest."

Luka crouches next to him.

He crouches next to her.

"I suppose I have."

They count the yellow ducks with pink beaks waddling in a march towards their show tent. Pink and gold, like the sun sinking slow around them, beneath the pinker skies and white clouds of cotton.

The tying of rubber balloons. The murmurs and deep conversations of mascots roaming the park, poking and prodding, checking on the behalf of one another that all was in working order.

He feels like it is.

There's the whoosh of a zooming train above them all, flying high and majestic in colorful array, no longer rattling, or blown apart to pieces.

The ducks vanish into the folds of the show tent, all accounted for, squared away.

Tsukasa stands, knees light, body lighter and stretches his arms overhead. He stretches his back next and asks the Virtual Singer watching him:

"Did you have a good dream?"

Luka gives a content smile and nod in return, arms resting behind her. "Yes. Everyone and I went on a grand adventure and performed many shows on different stages. Thank you for helping us restore the SEKAI. It was an interesting place here for a while. Right before you went back to the hospital, a sea washed in, stars tumbled down."

"They did?" Tsukasa is taken aback. He had wondered why there were so many traces of a wetstorm around.

Damp earth and torn and scorched tents.

"Mhm," Luka affirms. "Like before Christmas."

"Before Christmas?" 

Luka's thoughtful eyes wander to the sky. "That's right. At first I thought it was another dream of mine. Everything was shaking. The carnival was in disarray. An ocean and stars crashed across the SEKAI, all at once. Rin-chan tumbled from the ladder she was hanging balloons with and fell onto Len-kun below. MEIKO disappeared through a wall of a tent after a hole appeared in it. KAITO was buried beneath a hail of plushies from the roof of the stage. There was something wrong but we didn't know what it was. Only that Tsukasa-kun was very upset."

Luka's eyes fall from the sky, warmly onto Tsukasa.

"I wanted to search for Miku. I wandered from the carousal to the hill of flowers to sit in its tree. Suddenly things went white. There was nothing to hear and nothing to see. I felt uncertain, but waited."

Tsukasa remembers KAITO explaining something similar to him in the hospital, of events in the SEKAI that occurred in the aftermath of his accident. But this sounded like something more - something different - that took place before he got hit.

He frowns. As he thinks about what it could've been, Luka says,

"Emu-chan helped us find our way. And Miku came to me in the end. So did you Tsukasa-kun." Tsukasa looks at her. She smiles small and happy. "Do you recall?"

He does.

Luka had settled the wandering parts of him and brought him from the SEKAI to a place of rest.

He also recalls wondering what exactly Luka was to him, what part of him she could be, what her presence meant.

Miku, his leading heart.

KAITO, his careful thoughts and wisdom.

If Rin and Len were the essence of his eager, bursting youth, then MEIKO was the mature determination beside them.

"Luka..."

She slides her hand comfortingly into his own and starts to lead them both into the show tent the ducks they had counted disappeared into.

Among the empty rows of wooden seats is the wooden stage, where KAITO battles against an uprising of stuffed animals in a dramatic, tragic play Tsukasa doesn't remember them practicing.

Rin and Len, joyously play villains, igniting a cannon to shoot more toys out.

MEIKO heroically, the gallant knight, swoops in to save the day from the raptors of the pitched tent above.

"It's fun, right?" Luka asks. She looks upon the stage and her friends, the amethyst of her eyes full of light.  "I like being here a lot."

"You love them," says Tsukasa.

"I do," says Luka. Her mouth curves upwards as her head turns to regard him. In the tent with no show lights, no audience, no scripts or lines. Just the ones she wants to be with, who she would spend all her days with, until their days would reach their end. "Maybe it's the same for you," she says.

Her hand continues to hold his, resting in between them, as if they had been on a long, long journey, traveling together all the while.

They too about to reach an end.

Luke slept the most of them all. But when she woke and spoke, Tsukasa felt reassured.

There was nothing to worry about.

The trouble, the shenanigans, let them happen. In the end, things would settle. 

Things would be alright.

"....Luka," Tsukasa asks. "Did anyone visit the SEKAI while I was in the hospital?"

Luka hums. "Emu-chan of course." Her long pink hair sweeps over her shoulder as she tilts her head. "Rui-kun too. He wouldn't talk at first, but he helped us out. We were able to find many things that went missing around the park. He worked with Len to fix broken chairs and props. He took Rin with him and found the strange box MEIKO had disappeared into as well. I guess she fell into it after falling through the tent. It was a giant box. A box that looked like a present. After a few days of that, he stopped coming. I believe Tsukasa-kun woke up."

"...I see."

It's a lie. Tsukasa can't see the reasoning behind Rui's actions at all.

It's a lie. Yes, he can.

If he stops telling himself otherwise - he can see exactly the reasons why.

He thinks about the ocean and stars crashing. He feels another sea in him, quiet on a horizon, at the cusp of a brilliant gold and orange eve.

"Luka," he speaks again.

"Yes Tsukasa-kun," she says back.

"Did Rui ever talk?"

"Aa," Luka answers, a cheery, singular chirp of a sound. "It must've been six or seven days ago. Rui-kun and KAITO were talking about the SEKAI. Miku's head got stuck in a mascot so KAITO went to help her out, so I was left with Rui-kun to talk too."

Six or seven days ago?

Tsukasa attempts to track where that would fall in the discombobulated timeline he'd been experiencing between awake and asleep.

Luka helps him out.

"Mmmm.... I believe it would have been during the time Tsukasa-kun and Emu-chan left the hospital with Nene-chan and the rest. Rui-kun received a phone call and left. But before that, we had a conversation just like this."

"Like this?"

"'You love them' was what Rui-kun said. He must've have also been wondering what everyone here meant to Tsukasa-kun," Luka smiles.

Tsukasa jolts. His hand leaves her, and he looks at her. He had never said aloud to Luka what he'd been thinking earlier-

"Of course I know Tsukasa-kun well," Luka expresses, sincerity and a trace of humor beneath her words. "The SEKAI was born of you; the emotions of your heart. Every feeling. Every thought. When Tsukasa-kun performs, we do too. Playing the roles we were born to, too. It seems the same answer I gave to Rui-kun helped him in some way. He smiled for the first time. I thought to myself you two really were two peas in a cod."

"Pod," Tsukasa weakly corrects.

"Two peas in a pod," Luka also corrects. She briefly considers something with curiosity. "Rui-kun found Tsukasa-kun after and brought Tsukasa-kun back to the hospital."

Yes, it's true enough he guesses.

He's been officially in the hospital for rest for these number of days now. According to KAITO, in some sort of restful comatose sleep.

Judging by the fact that all of the time he could remember since opening his eyes was here in his own SEKAI, he doesn't doubt it's true.

Not that KAITO had a reason to lie to him.

Not that KAITO had ever lied to him. 

Tsukasa had been the only one between them lying to himself. 

"...Ah!"

A lightbulb goes off by Luka's head.

Tsukasa watches it.

Is almost blinded by it.

"Did Rui-kun perhaps find you before,  Tsukasa-kun? A long time ago?" she questions.

"Maybe?" Tsukasa replies, not sure of when that would be.

Luka seems to know more than him anyway, and fills in the blanks he can't figure out.

"Hmhm! I think that must be why Rui-kun felt sorry for the ocean that came in. 'We fought' was what he said. I didn't understand it. He only told us: 'I hurt Tsukasa a lot' and worked to help us pick up all the scattered stars on the ground. I see now you must have been experiencing a great deal of emotion."

...Oh.

That... would have been when Tsukasa lashed out at him in the park.

Before he was hit by the car.

"Oh," he says aloud.

He'd been saying it a lot. As realizations coming to him wouldn't stop.

On the stage in their comforting show tent, KAITO is rescued by MEIKO. They successfully wrangle Rin and Len to the stage floor and tie them up in shiny, rainbow rope.

"We did it!" KAITO proudly proclaims, stepping back and wiping his brow.

"That's right!" MEIKO exclaims, setting her hands on her waist, equally pleased. "The hero always wins!"

"Booooo," Rin and Len together boo, huffing, sticking out their tongues.

All four on the stage break into laughs after.

Luka, next to Tsukasa, chuckles too.

"Tsukasa-kun, I feel like joining them too. Come back to the SEKAI with everyone else soon. We'll be waiting."

She heads off, cheerfully waving to her friends on the stage, walking in no hurry.

Tsukasa looks at her as she does.

And blinks. 

Wait a second.

"Luka -" he starts to call out. "Where's Miku?"

Luka glances over her shoulder, beaming.

She says something and Tsukasa doesn't hear.

A face full of confetti.

The ringing of a prize-winning bell in his ear and bursting cheers of excitement.

He's not in the SEKAI but traveling out of it, at warp speed, tumbling in a nauseating funnel. Something ridiculous in the distance is announced. 

"-don't worry! He's alright, I think. I didn't unplug his heart machine again!"

"Emu be more careful please."

"I will Nene-chan, I promise!"

"...I'm surprised a book to the face didn't wake him up. ...That wasn't on purpose, was it?"

"Nene-chan! Of course not!"

The voices are discombobulated, falling into place in his head. 

"Here, sit here," says another familiar voice, joining the fray. 

It's accompanied by a noise of agreement, a sigh of relief, and chuckling. 

Shuffling, moving around.

Papers and rolling pencils.

For some reason Tsukasa thinks they must be colored ones, brand new, not yet worn down.

The momentary pause in conversation ends.

"-and where does Tsukasa-kun go after we put him in the cannon?"

Growing diabolical glee.

"Space! See we send Tsukasa-kun flying into the stratosphere for everyone below to see, and he explodes in a sparkly kazam, twirly-whirly kaboom, and sends glitter all the over the world. It's a clear 'I'M BACK' message!"

IM BACK spoken in loud English. 

More like 'I'm going back to the hospital' message! 

"Don't even think about it," Tsukasa refuses.

An arm with an IV, it lifts, tugging tight in the motion the tiniest bit, and he rubs a hand over his face. Over tired eyes that don't want to open with a body soft and heavy that doesn't want to wake.

He communicates with that nightmare of Emu regardless because what in the world did she think she was talking about?

"Why am I the one exploding?" he grumbles complaints. "What purpose could I possibly serve in the stratosphere. Why glitter? Why a twirly-whirly kaboom? Do you have something against me?"

Emu lowers her sketchpad, horizontal on her knees, eyes blazing bright. Argumentative.

"Because Tsukasa-kun is a star! Romeo! The Battle Royale Part Four: Space Massacre needs to have its hero return with a bang. Or else what's the point?"

Tsukasa's tongue is thick, voice worn with disuse. He argues back anyway, eyebrows pinching low, like this conversation is muscle-memory.

"I'm saying why does the hero have to return in an explosion? Wouldn't that kill him? How would that make anyone smile? He's supposed to live and conquer all and return to earth to marry his Juliet -" His eyebrows bunch more. "Whatever happened to Part Three?"

"Part Three is over," Emu says as if he should know. "All that's left is the finale."

"But we haven't performed any of it."

"In their hearts the audience already knows!"

"Knows what -?"

Tsukasa stops.

Emu stops.

They blink at one another.

The hospital room is silent - but for a moment.

"Eh?" Tsukasa blinks a second time, doubting his eyes. "Emu?"

"Oh. Hi Tsukasa-kun," she greets, sounding equally surprised.

Because it is Emu, seated cross-legged in the chair at his bedside, in a sweater and sweats, short hair twisted in small buns, bangs pushed back by a vibrant patterned headband.

Beginning sunset blazes golden through the window to their left, white curtains parted.

Nene sits on a stool by the foot of his bed, in a long-sleeved dress and cardigan, looking mildly disheveled, but expression mostly overcome with small exasperation.

"You two had that whole conversation and didn't recognize who you were talking to?" she asks. "...How do you feel?"

Clear-headed but confused. "Good, I think."

He clears his throat next. Squints and un-squints. A minor headache. From suddenly waking up?

Notebooks and colored pencils are scattered across his lap.

He’s being used as a desk.

Miku, her tiny holographic form, sits, legs splayed out, her own mini notebook between them.

"Tsukasa-kun!" brightly she says. "Did you have fun in the SEKAI? We were working hard out here too!"

"I can... see that," he acknowledges. "Uhm.... Is it alright if I ask - what's the date?"

"January tenth."

Tsukasa looks over.

It's not just Emu, Nene and Miku there.

In a cozy blue cardigan of his own, glasses, and slacks sits Rui in a chair to the left of his bed, by all the important, plugged in machines and IV.

Right, Tsukasa thinks.

He had heard Rui's voice.

Rui's hair is tucked behind an ear, a galaxy-themed pencil with tiny rocket-ships tucked on the ear with it.

He doesn't say anything more, but he does gaze quite serenely at Tsukasa with honey-gold eyes, taking the time to pause in whatever he had been designing in the notebook resting against his crossed leg.

It's a warm expression, and it holds a great deal of things.

Tsukasa sits up a bit straighter in his already half-raised bed. His sheets slips to his stomach. He makes a half-hearted attempt to pull them back to his chest but there's really no need to.

The evening is equally warm.

Oddly, hearing more days than he expected had slipped away from him... doesn't bother him as much as it had the first time.

If he had slept for that long, for this long, he must have needed it.

However he was curious -

"Did I not wake at all?"

"...I suppose you did," Nene hesitantly starts, uncertain-looking as she sounds. "It was sleepwalking maybe. You had a full conversation with Aoyagi-kun yesterday when he came."

Tsukasa perks up at the name. Raspy but enthused. “Touya was here?"

"Yeah!" Emu exclaims, happy. "With Saki-chan and your mom. We had a bunch of oranges. Your mom told us a bunch of stories about you when you were younger too."

"What? Why?" Tsukasa asks, appalled. "Tell me they weren't embarrassing?"

"No, they were," Nene says, her expression heavily perplexed. "A lot of them were. Why did you pretend to be bug?"

'It was...for a play."

"No it wasn't. I asked her if it was and she said it wasn't. You just woke up one day and decided to act like one." 

"I was five!"

Tsukasa makes a face at her.

Realizes something.

Takes the time, despite the small ache from the movement, to turn up his nose, and put on the insufferable smug smirk he knows she hates.

"Oh? So you ended up talking with my mother? No running away this time?"

Nene doesn't bat an eye.

"I walked greeted her like a regular human and spoke to her like one too. Not like a bug."

Tsukasa balks.

He's got nothing to say back to that.

Honestly he shouldn't be surprised about this.

A majority of the embarrassing things that had happened to Tsukasa in the past or that he had done that his parents thought were cute - had been told to Touya with great gusto before over dinners and playdates.

Tsukasa thought he was fortunate no one really understood how much about him Touya knew - but he guessed that would soon be short-lived.

His shoulders drop.

Whatever. He's only just woken, properly, fully-conscious again. No need to stress.

He feels like he doesn't even have it in him to. 

"Not that I'm not glad to see you all," he begins, voice lower, much more calmer, at rest - now that he's truly settled and awake enough to process the scene happening in his hospital room. "But. Actually. What are you doing here?"

Emu's mouth purses. Her eyes shine for a different reason, and fill with complete seriousness - as if she hadn't been spouting the most unserious nonsense about their four-part, Romeo-theater act moments before.

"It's after-school," she tells him. "We've been coming here for the past four days."

"You have?" Tsukasa questions in disbelief.

All of you? he asks inside his head.

He doesn't look at Rui.

Emu nods, bothered. "We have a show to make for Keisuke-onii-chan to promote, but we're trying to figure out how to make it work with your wheelchair."

"I don't have a wheelchair," Tsukasa frowns.

"Hiiro-kun says you will when you leave," Emu replies. "For a whole month."

Kobayashi was still his nurse?

Hearing that was somewhat surprising too.

Considering the small hospital-breakout that had happened under Kobayashi's apparent supervision.

But if that was what Kobayashi told Emu and the others involving what Tsukasa would need to use to properly recover after leaving the hospital, then there was no way for Tsukasa to work around that.

"We could always fit it with a speed booster," says Rui, voice languid.

He bends for a moment to stow his notebook away in his fold-over bag, and rises back up with a brand new bottle of water and a straw.

The bottle is opened.

The straw goes in.

He passes it to Tsukasa and Tsukasa takes it, holding it, looking at it in his hand.

"Thank you," he says. Is he forgetting something? Somehow, he feels like he is. "...I don't want a speed booster on my wheelchair. It'll send me off the stage."

"Only if you're trying to launch yourself off of it," Nene comments, brow furrowed. "Just use it normally."

"There's nothing normal about a wheelchair with speed boosting rockets on it to begin with," Tsukasa points out sourly, bringing the straw and water to his mouth. "What's wrong with you guys?"

"I wasn't thinking of fitting it with rockets," Rui responds, contemplation on his face, fingers coming to hold his chin as he studies Tsukasa in thought. "I thought it might be too much. But if that's what Tsukasa-kun wishes...."

"If that's what Tsukasa-kun wishes. It's alright with me.  Because Tsukasa-kun has been my favorite person for a while now." 

Tsukasa inhales through the straw so sharply, water flies up his nose, and he spits and chokes.

Miku vanishes in the spray, and reappears on top of what he feels is his head.

"Gross," Nene complains with a tiny cry, arms raised. "Tsukasa what was that about?"

He covers his mouth with a hand and keels over, his other hand flailing for support. His hand is firmly caught and brought back down gently to the bed.

"Are you alright?" Rui asks, a frown in his voice. Not sounding put-off in the slightest.

Likely because he wasn't in the splash zone.

"Uh-huh," Tsukasa mumbles through his fingers, resolutely not looking at him, feeling fiercely hot and red.

He scrambles through his own memories, kicking some aside, boxing up others, recollecting moments, and coming face-to-face with others in absolute dread as he thinks and thinks hard.

"This is.... the first time I'm awake right?" he wheezes more than he asks.

"Since you fainted like a magical princess in Rui-kun's arms?" Emu asks for him. "It is, Tsukasa-kun. Why?"

"M'not a magical princess," he mutters in distressed objection.

Emu considers him, head tilting as he looks up at her. It reminds him of Luka.

"I could see you being one. Maybe we should make Tsukasa-kun Juliet in Romeo! The Battle Royale Part Four. It could be easier for blocking since she doesn't move around much in the tower where she's trapped."

Her eyes go to Rui, seeking his opinion.

"Rui-kun, what do you think?"

"I think," Rui begins, the corners of his mouth curled into the makings of a smile, "you're thinking of Rapunzel. Why don't we give Tsukasa-kun time to think about it and see where he'd like to take the story we've made next?"

His hand overtop of Tsukasa's is a settled, comfortable weight that doesn't move.

Tsukasa sure wished he could remember what moving was like. What thinking coherent thoughts was like too.

Because there's nothing in his head at the moment.

Just heat on his skin.

Nene scoffs. There's nothing malicious in it, it's soft kind of noise, accompanied by a softer look on her face. She stands and gathers her own long purse that must've been resting at her feet on the floor.

"I'm going to get a snack. Emu, do you want to come with me?"

Emu unfurls her legs and hops to her own feet with gusto. "Sure! Tsukasa-kun, you can have this."

She sets her sketchbook full of drawings and colors and a well-made drawing of him in a handsome costume down.

"You can add to it if you like."

They leave everything there, the colored pencils and the sketches, and papers and notes - a clear sign they'll be back.

Emu's backpack covered in pins and decoration is bunched and lopsided on the floor, and Tsukasa's eyes stick to it like it'll somehow save him.

But no.

He and Rui are left alone.

"Rapunzel?" suddenly comes Miku's inquisitive voice.

Oh. Almost alone.

"Is she much different than Juliet?"  Miku asks.

Rui's gaze, mirthful, goes to her where she is indeed on top of Tsukasa's head. "I would say so, yes."

She tumbles off of it, like a gymnast - like Emu - onto Tsukasa's hospital-gown covered shoulder, and sits on it like a ledge. Swinging her legs; hands tucked beneath her.

"I love stories!" chirps Miku. "Their names sound familiar. Will Rui-kun tell me why?"

Rui does smile at her this time, and it travels to Tsukasa, where his smile grows.

But there's something behind it.

"Well, perhaps Tsukasa-kun has their books somewhere on his shelves at home and thats why they’re familiar. If you're asking about our valiant heroines, then the biggest difference is probably that Rapunzel lives and Juliet dies. You could argue both tales have a compelling story. However, Rapunzel is a princess who's spent much of her life trapped at a tall tower, full of fears and doubts, able to bring others up, but never able to come down to freedom her. When she overcomes those difficulties, the insecurities holding her back, she finds a realized dream, and happiness as well. Juliet, on the other hand, constantly battles oppression from the expectations of the world. She is as trapped as Rapunzel, but in a different way. In a constant feuds with herself of love or loyalty to her person of interest, or her family. The true ending of Romeo and Juliet without the re-interpretation from Emu's wonderful mind, is one of a tragedy."

"Mmmmmm," Miku's small mouth bends down and down, like her ears, deflating. "That doesn't sound great. Rapunzel seems much better off."

Tsukasa can't help it.

He speaks out.

"Maybe," he says, not looking at her, but at Rui directly, previous embarrassment gone in the wake of conversation. "That’s a pretty basic way of summarizing. But you're forgetting something."

"Oh?" Rui's eyebrow lifts. "And what is that?"

"Rapunzel could always have a happy ending. She always had the freedom of choice. No matter whether Juliet chose her family or the one she loved, she would never be happy, and she would never be free," Tsukasa points out. "There was never a choice. Everyone else made decisions for her. The only choice she felt she could make resulted in the end of her life."

"It wasn't the only choice," says Rui. "Juliet never wanted to die. She sought happiness first and foremost, wanted a life with the man she loved, and answers to her despairing questions. Answers she regrettably never found." Rui's mouth is a thin, flat line. His hand over Tsukasa's, a tight grip. "She doesn't try to end her life so seriously. It's supposed to be a ruse. She takes a potion to avoid the forced marriage, but Romeo misunderstands and kills himself. Then Juliet kills herself seeing him gone when she wakes, as she can no longer live without him."

"I know how the story of Romeo and Juliet goes," Tsukasa answers, a smidgen annoyed. "I'm saying there was no other way for their story to end."

"You're saying it could only end in death." Rui sounds a touch more annoyed than him, eyes slant in their disagreement. "That there was no other possibility. No other future Romeo or Juliet could have had."

"If they ran away and left their families behind then sure," Tsukasa retorts, feeling his own eyes narrow just as much.

His hand beneath Rui's turns over - but doesn't leave from under it - rather his fingers seize a hold of Rui's own, holding them together, intertwined.

As if the force of it will get the point he's trying to make about the Romeo and Juliet across.

Romeo and Juliet could have run away.

"But given the time period the story takes place, that would logically never happen. Because that's how the story was written."

"I didn't take you to be the logical sort," Rui retorts.

"That's my line," Tsukasa retorts back. "I'm always logical and I make great points. Logic just seems to fly out the window when I'm with you."

"Only me?"

"And everyone else."

"Tsukasa-kun," Rui says, tilting towards him - quite serious - significantly vexed. "Has it ever occurred to you that you could be wrong?"

Yes.

Tsukasa draws himself up.

"No. About what?"

Rui's squeezing his fingers hard enough that it should hurt.

It doesn't.

Tsukasa's squeezing back just as hard.

"The bigger picture," Rui says. 

His voice leaves him like a breath. A ghost of a whisper.

But it's not a whisper, merely something spoken low, imploringly, with a great deal of brewing ire.

"Romeo and Juliet was never a play about love. It was a conflict. And something the main characters believed was romance. But their acts were born of isolation and desperation. It wasn't love or loyalty Juliet agonized over the most," Rui harshly judges. "But herself."

"You're calling her selfish."

"I'm saying she didn't have a single clue what it was she ultimately wanted. She clung to the love of Romeo, who clung to her in return, because he felt he had nothing else."

"So you don't like it," Tsukasa says, and maybe he should've known in some way because they had actually never touched upon the topic of performing it true to its real storyline before.

The knowledge of that doesn't bother Tsukasa like he thought it would.

He enjoyed the play and its themes.

He enjoyed the battle between opposing forces.

Despaired in the anguish of the convoluted love-life and love-line that was Juliet's own.

The hatred of families so vastly dissimilar to the hearts within his own.

"I don't like it," Rui confirms. Finality in his words. "Romeo and Juliet destroyed one another. And their ideas of love, destroyed themselves."

"Maybe it wouldn't have," Tsukasa hears himself say, frowning quietly, speaking quietly. "If they knew what exactly the kind of love was they were looking for."

"...Perhaps," Rui says at length. His eyes search Tsukasa's own afterwards for a great deal and length of time. "It seemed clear to the audience. Clear to them as well. It’s my opinion they often wondered how it would end."

"Hm." Tsukasa hums, and that's it.

Miku continues to sit on his shoulder, although her legs have stopped swinging and she appears to be listening intently to their every word.

Rui frowns at Tsukasa's lack of answer, and Tsukasa knows it's because Rui is contemplating if he's said something past a line Tsukasa didn't want to cross - but it's nothing of the sort.

It's simply that Tsukasa wants to look at him. Because he's simply noticing more now.

Maybe because he had gone through more.

Resolved more.

Learned to skew his perspective just a bit differently - to understand others more - in his waking and sleeping, and sleeping and waking again.

Dusted freckles.

Slightly curled hair at the nape of his neck. Delicate and tumbling at the sweep of his brow.

The pale blue of his cardigan suits Rui, as does the pale white of the shirt beneath.

He's very beautiful, Tsukasa idly thinks. Something of a Juliet himself.

Clever, strong and capable. 

Of course Tsukasa had already comes to these conclusions earlier.

Much earlier on. Months ago.

"...Rui," he says.

"Yes, Tsukasa?"

The honorific is gone.

Not for any poor reason. He drops it sometimes. Like the time in the snow before. Because Rui is communicating with him, as if perhaps also noticing something more about him.

Something else.

Tsukasa feels his own pulse between their twined hands.

It's racing.

Beating strong.

"...I can admit when I'm wrong. I've been wrong plenty of times lately. I'd say for better or worse, but it's mostly been for the worst."

He shakes his head.

Hesitates.

Expresses his truth.

"You're wrong about Juliet though. Her character gets debated over plenty, yet one thing I felt about her was certain without fail."

He holds Rui's gaze.

"She might've doubted her future, and her feelings constantly, again and again. But she knew at the core of her struggle what she wanted. She did love Romeo, Rui. She does. Whether she was his anchor or not in his own conflicted situation, Romeo did love her too. I don't think their feelings were ever a lie. There's also...I mean..." Tsukasa's eyes flicker down towards their hands, face growing moderately warm. "They did get married."

"Divorce does exist. As does cheating," Rui says. "The statistics are incredibly high. Marriage is a concept.” 

Tsukasa looks at him, aghast. “Rui!” 

"If we're talking about reality," Rui replies. "You must know."

"Would it kill you to be romantic?" Tsukasa incredulously demands.  

Rui chuckles, not deprecatingly, but appraisingly, with humor towards himself.

He looks at Tsukasa, with a touch of wonderment, appraising him too, like Tsukasa's very existence is a marvel.

"The last time I tried you walked off and got hit by a car."

Tsukasa's mouth drops.

"If anything trying to be romantic almost got you killed," Rui goes on. "You couldn't just let me look after you and walk you home?"

Tsukasa gawks.  

Rui's mouth quirks. "Tsukasa-kun, I admit I was wrong too. I thought you knew that when you confessed to me, I had given my confession back. I've been learning these past few weeks that presumption was a mistake. The past few times you've seen me, you've always looked like you wanted to cry. I should have asked like I wanted to. But I didn’t. I cowardly backed out. I feared somehow you would take back what you said. That it was a mistake that had slipped from you, one you wanted to go away.”

Tsukasa closes his mouth. Opens it again. Stutters out some words. "I - But that's because I - because you - "

He gets quiet. 

Rui does too. 

"....I was very upset when I heard you were hurt, Tsukasa-kun."

Rui says it without fanfare.

He sits in the chair beside Tsukasa's hospital without fanfare, and continues to speak without it.

A bit dimmer.

No less heartfelt.

"I blamed myself. I was angry at myself. I never slept. I replayed our last conversation repeatedly, over and over in my head. I didn't want to think about it. That I could be the one responsible for your death. But I would have to be if you were dead."

Tsukasa finds it in himself to shake his head.

Weakly at first. Stronger the next.

"It would have never been your fault," he says, face pinching in regret. “I made the choices. You’re not allowed to blame yourself."

"I have the freedom of choice to do so," Rui tells him. Looking at him straight. "Don't we all?"

Tsukasa doesn't answer though he knows the answer is a resounding 'yes'.

Rui moves from the chair he sits on, rising just a little - leaning over - drawing near.

He rests his brow very gently against the side of Tsukasa's own for the briefest of moments.

”I am glad you’re okay.” 

Tsukasa jumps and Rui draws back, but he doesn't draw back far, and he lingers, a breath away, holding Tsukasa's flustered gaze with intent.

"Tsukasa-kun. For as long as I exist at your side, I will never allow you to get hurt like this again. Do you understand? Tsukasa, if you die, all that I am will die along with you. No different than that infuriating story of Romeo and Juliet. I am better because of you. Have become better because of you. The me of today could never exist without you and continues to exist because of you. Do you understand this?"

Tsukasa can't answer.

He doesn't need to.

Rui gazes into him with the might of unshakeable earth.

"Tenma Tsukasa. If we grow old - if we ever forget - I will take us in a time machine back to here and remind you of it again. That there was a person named Kamishiro Rui who loved you with his every breath."

Earth is unshakeable but Tsukasa is shaken.

”Tsukasa-kun, do you understand?” 

His family's care. His friend's fears.

Tsukasa knows now what he felt looking into his father's gaze days and days before.

Terror.

Fright. 

At the thought of being loved so strongly in return.

"I hope you'll come to accept it," Rui speaks, spilling vow in every word. "That there are people who love you an impossible amount. No matter what kind of love it is."

Sentiments similar to his little sister's own words.

Tsukasa had already begun to accept it.

"Tsukasa-kun. It's your choice."

Rui brings their hands to his mouth, and bows his head, presses to them the smallest of affections.

"...If they ask again will you tell them, we're not in love?"

There's an ocean in him.

Tossing. Stars - falling down.

Tsukasa thinks about the SEKAI.

Feels sorry for it.

For what it's about to go through for the third time.

His voice trembles as he speaks.

"...I can't," he says to Rui.

The IV in his arm stabs and pricks.

He pulls Rui towards him.

Into him.

"I told them I wouldn't lie." 

"Knock-knock," sings Emu's voice.

Her small knuckles rap on the door that had never been closed.

"Tsukasa-kun? Rui-kun? Is it safe to come in?"

"Dear Kami please tell us it is," Nene's voice follows.

Tsukasa -who isn't doing anything except seriously contemplating the limits and restrictions of the timidly-fleshed out play the Wonderland troupe should deliver into Keisuke's hands - lifts his head from where it's bent over one of the notebook's left behind, and says:

"What are you talking about?"

Sticky evening molasses warmth from the blazing sun lowers outside the hospital window more vividly than before.

Rui's phone is on the windowsill, their precious companions in the group of Virtual Singers, out and about in the glow of the setting sun, enjoying the view, performing acrobatic stunts they thought might work in Wonderland's new show.

Rui himself sits content in the same chair to the left of Tsukasa's bed, having been similarly preoccupied with costs and logistics until the current return of their friends.

"Oh," says Nene, walking into the room after deeming it 'safe', glancing between them. "So you really aren't doing anything."

Tsukasa holds up his notebook in offense. "For your information, we've been doing a lot! Why did it take you over an hour to get a snack?"

"I don't know," Nene shoots back, "Why did it take you over an hour to quit talking about Romeo and Juliet?"

"We were not talking that long about Romeo and Juliet - " Tsukasa starts, chest puffing - then stopping. "Were you eavesdropping?" 

"We weren't eavesdropping, we could hear you from down the hall. The door was open this whole time. Don't tell me you didn't know."

Tsukasa hadn't really thought about that, no.

Emu bounds into the room. She leans against Rui, over his shoulder, on her tip-toes, studying his work. "Hiiro-kun was on his way for a check-up but asked us to let him know when you were done," she informs them. "Are you guys done?"

"For today, yes," Rui answers.

He passes his notebook to Emu and gets to his feet, placing a hand behind him and leaning to crack it back.

He rolls out his shoulders afterwards and gathers his bag.

The mess over Tsukasa's own lap and bed is cleared in less than a few minutes with the helping hands of Nene and Emu.

"We'll let Kobayashi-san know you're ready to be seen," Rui says. "If you're prepared for that, Tsukasa-kun."

"It should be fine," Tsukasa answers.

It's only a check-up, right?

Rui hums noncommittedly and goes to retrieve his phone.

"Tsukasa-kun, you should also ask the nurse to bring you back your phone. Now that I think about it, I believe it's been in holding since you were re-admitted."

Tsukasa hadn't given much thought about his phone. He supposes he should get it back.

There were likely a slew of messages he'd received that he hadn't read.

It would be nice to have the companionship of the Virtual Singers at his bedside again too.

"Yeah, I will."

Emu gives him a hug, careful not to squeeze too hard. "Keep feeling better Tsukasa-kun! We'll come back tomorrow and all work together. If you're feeling up for it. Sorry I dropped my sketchbook on your face earlier."

Tsukasa hugs her back. Then says - "Wait, what?"

Nene hugs him next before he can follow up on Emu's confession.

It's a short hug, she looks like she's uncomfortable the whole three seconds it lasts, but when she pulls away she halts, and stubbornly goes back to hug him for one more second longer.

"I'm happy you're alright," she says. "...I don't know if I ever told you."

She and Emu go to the door.

The hospital door still open, letting in the sound of footsteps and other movements down the hall.

Rui bends down and bids him farewell.

Hand on his face soft.

"Take some time for yourself," he advises. "We'll visit again."

And he straightens back up like Tsukasa isn't about to burst into flames at the extremely blunt and visible display of an easily interpreted romantic gesture of partnership if one such display ever existed-

"Geez," Nene mutters. "This is so embarrassing. I can hear the ridiculous mental gymnastics happening in his head. Let's just go."

But she doesn't go, and Emu and Rui don't either.

Not yet.

Gold sun and warmth continues to spill over the floor and bed.

The light shadows of growing eve paints varied canvases on all their smiling faces.

They stand in the doorway for a minute more.

There is a 'Wonderhoy!' between them, waiting to be shouted out.

It doesn't get let out.

They'll wait until they're together on a stage again. Bowing.

Holding Tsukasa's hands.

His friends depart.

Tsukasa gazes at the spot they once were. Heart full like nothing else.

He misses them.

He will always miss them no matter how close or far.

He's sure if he ever dares to forget this feeling in his chest, his feelings for himself and them, there will be a time machine to bring him back and remind him again.

Kobayashi Hiiro, older brother of Tsukasa's class representative, Kobayashi Yuzuki - and Tsukasa's nurse - brings him his phone and generously plugs it in.

He gives Tsukasa a check-up not unlike the first time around, and reminds Tsukasa in a friendly manner to call him 'Hiiro', not Kobayashi, his well-known, far more aged father's name.

Tsukasa's phone lights up in the middle of a joint test on one of Tsukasa's legs.

On the desk to the right of them, KAITO appears. He says nothing but does seem content to stand and observe as Hiiro works.

The silence is comfortable.

Hiiro moves Tsukasa's legs and arms with perfect understanding of the limit of their extensions without evoking too harsh discomfort or pain beyond the necessary documentation.

A light in his eyes. A peek in his ears.

It feels like a doctor's visit in their family's regular physician's office, not at a hospital streets and streets afar.

"Does everything look okay?" KAITO inquires when Hiiro finally steps away to make marks on his notes.

"Just about." Hiiro scribbles for a second, licks his thumb with his tongue and flips a page up, eyebrows making a number of thoughtful expressions on his face as he starts writing with the pen in what appears to be fuller sentences. "Of course this report will be relayed along with others to your household doctor, Tenma-kun," he relays, "for when your care switches over."

"Will I need much more of it?"

"Physical therapy, if you'd like to walk as before, yes. I recall last time we spoke I mentioned your parents' interest in general therapy as well. From my recent conversations with your mother, I believe you might have a first session on the way."

Tsukasa looks at his feet from where he sits on the side of the bed.

Hiiro pauses in his writing, the sound of the pause hitting Tsukasa's ears.

And Hiiro asks:

"Tenma-kun. Have you experienced any unpleasant dreams of the accident since it occurred? Any flashes of memory of the day you were hurt?"

"...No," Tsukasa answers.

"Are you telling the truth?"

Tsukasa looks up. "Yes."

Hiiro nods to himself, and scribbles a long sentence quickly on the third paper of his clipboard. "That will likely change when you return home. Do you personally believe you need to stay here longer for recovery?"

Tsukasa isn't sure.

With his friends gone, it's just him.

He doesn't feel hurt. He feels more tired after enjoying their company, is all.

That seemed pretty normal to him from what little he knew.

"Another day likely wouldn't hurt…? But I don’t feel bad.” 

"Alright."

Hiiro writes one more sentence then tucks his pen into the breast-pocket of his coat and clipboard beneath his arm.

He goes over to KAITO and offers his hand.

KAITO steps onto it.

"...Hiiro-san?" Tsukasa wonders.

Hiiro glances over.

"How come you can speak to them?" Tsukasa finally gets the chance to ask. 

There's no response at first.

His nurse gazes at KAITO.

Then gazes at him.

"Hastune Miku was popular when I was a kid. I went to all the Virtual Concerts I could. That my father would allow. It drove him mildly insane. I was supposed to be studying from books. I did, of course. It was important to follow in the footsteps of my family. Kobayashi is an equally important name. Helping others, healing them. I wondered often if there was only one certain way. I was sure that there were voices that existed in the world that could help and save others the same."

Hiiro faces him fully.

KAITO takes a seat in Hiiro's hand.

"When people grow older," Hiiro tells Tsukasa, "they sometimes forget the passionate voices from their youths that cheered their hearts and made them sing. Some will tell you life is a journey that grows easier as you go on, but realistically, that isn't true. There will never be a straightforward path to your goal, even if you can see it right there. Responsibilities; unexpected happenings - it can take away those feelings. It can make you disregard all the things you loved and chased as a kid. But for as many who forget, there are just as many who eventually remember and feel nostalgia from it. And a special number of the ever sentimental, who never forget at all, and spend their days quietly lamenting the heart that they lost."

It's quiet.

Peaceful.

But Tsukasa is not at peace.

He feels the echo of a gone youth reverberating deep in his bones; the echo loud and clear, belonging to someone else.

The man in the room with him, dressed in his long, white coat.

A path in the medical field.

A path chosen by his family.

Though it was a path Kobayashi Hiiro had chosen to continue to follow.

A path he didn't appear to regret.

"Because I was taught at a young age," Hiiro says, "I thought little if there was anything else. But. I still hear their voices."

He says it to Tsukasa, but Tsukasa thinks he's saying it to KAITO instead.

To the rest of the Virtual Singers Tsukasa knows are listening in from the depths of his phone on the desk close by.

Hiiro smiles.

"It was good to know they still exist."

"Thank you for taking care of Tsukasa-kun," KAITO says.

"Thank you too." Hiiro tells KAITO in return. His smile gets bigger.

Boyishly so.

With satisfaction, he declares:

"As expected, there's more than medicine that saves lives. My father still won’t hear of it.” 

He sets KAITO back on the white glowing surface of Tsukasa's phone.

He turns to go, offering Tsukasa some last cordial words.

"I'll inform Yamada-sensei of your health's progress. It's excellent, so you know. No complications this time around. It looks like the hill you're climbing on now is heading up, so keep your head up as well. Perfect health might not come as quickly as you expect."

Tsukasa doesn't disagree or fight inside himself at the words. And he's okay with it.

Perfectly okay, in fact.

He supposes that's also excellent progress in himself. 

"Try lying yourself down and preparing yourself for bed," Hiiro suggests. "I'll speak with Yamada-sensei about a discharge the day after tomorrow. You could even be released tomorrow. Your body is healing great, all things considered. She'll want to see you herself before any decisions are made, of course, although I'm sure she'll agree. You were, after all, in a far worse state when you left the hospital the first time, and had incredible mobility back then too."

Tsukasa nods in gracious gratitude.

He thanks his own body and health for being strong enough, adaptable enough, resilient enough, to heal. And all those who helped.

“Hiiro-san, you didn’t get in trouble for what happened?”

”I certainly got a lecture. But who can be blamed if I happened to be in the bathroom while you ran away? When duty calls it calls.” 

Tsukasa hides his smile and the nurse does too. He starts to maneuver himself, carefully, undoubtably stiffly, onto his sheets.

"Hiiro-kun!" abruptly calls a voice from his phone.

The nurse at the door stops.

He turns.

Hatsune Miku stands in sight, hands firmly planted on her waist, eyes just as bright as her voice, filled with jubilee. 

"You'll come see a concert of mine again soon, won't you?" 

Tsukasa looks at her, startled at the bold appearance. He looks at Hiiro who looks startled too.

But the startlement of the nurse fades to recognition.

To fond admission.

Tsukasa can't help but wonder if the Miku his nurse sees here is a different one than the Miku he had grown up with as a kid.

"Your tickets are expensive nowadays," Hiiro answers. "And the ticket gacha system is practically rigged."

"Fwuuueeeeee," Miku noisily contests.

"But I suppose I can make it work."

Miku perks up. 

Hiiro chuckles.

Reminiscence touches his features.

Flits away.

"...Have a good night, Miku. Tenma-kun."

 He turns off the lights, and closes the door.

Tsukasa sits in silence.

And silence some more. 

"....Er, wait a second," Tsukasa says to no one as Miku too cheerfully disappears. "I'm not in bed yet. I can't see." 

The illumination of a phone is a miraculous thing he will never take for granted again.

"Sorry Tsukasa-kun," KAITO laughs, a soft and airy sound, apology in his demeanor.

His seat is in the small alcove made by the bend of Tsukasa's arm.

"Miku grew excited and gathered all of us to talk for quite a while about Hiiro-kun."

"Does she know him?" Tsukasa asks.

A small part of him wonders if he would ever forget about the existence of such important voices, voices and songs that had changed his life and him, when he grew old.

He decides not to think about it.

One thing at a time. 

"In a sense. She said felt she did." KAITO glows in the tiny space that is the curled up shape of Tsukasa testing out the comfortability of lying on his side.

Tsukasa scrolls on his phone, moderate exhaustion tugging at his eyes, but he doesn't want to let it beat him.

A vast number of messages and chats had been sent his way while he'd been out. More than he thought there would be. Not from his friends alone, but acquaintances too, and acquaintances of those acquaintances.

He opens a few.

They're novels. All of them.

He goes through the longest by date, starting with January 5th.

Tiny beeps and blips, indiscriminate other sounds of the hospital and room, and window beyond.

KAITO reads along with him in the sheltered quiet of the quieter night.

|Tsukasa-kun! Have you been well? I've heard from Saki-chan your recovery is coming along better than expected. Do you remember the tabby I mentioned before? She's grown much bigger in such a small amount of time. The maidens of the shrine asked if we wanted to take her home, so we did. Shii-chan disagreed at first, but can you believe it? She sleeps with our newfound friend the most, and plays with her when she thinks I'm not looking. We've named her Butterscotch. I'll bring her to see you when you've recovered. Or sooner if you'd like! Let me know. Make sure to get proper rest. Butterscotch would want it too.

|Senpai, I've saved several oranges for you your mother brought for you and your friends. Akito tried to eat them and got through three before I discovered him and took them away. He refuses to come with me to visit you after the first time we came with my father. I'm not sure why. I know he has visited you on his own before. This past week alone, he went three times after school before coming to our VIVID BAD rehearsals. He brings various cheesecakes from a bakery each visit. He asked me what kind you like, but I'm embarrassed to say I'm not sure. When I ask him what happened to the cheesecake, he told me it didn't matter. However he very obviously had the crumbs of them on the corner of his mouth. I hear he asks the doctor in charge of you about your progress often. Or - perhaps it's a nurse? He talks on the phone with them. It might be a lot to ask, and I'm sorry if it is, but if you get the chance senpai, once you get out, please speak with him. I think it would put his mind at ease. ....He hasn't been sleeping well. He sings loud, but the beats he makes are dissonant. My father offered Akito some classical music teaching... or I suppose therapy.... but that didn't go over particularly. Ah. There's something else senpai. I won a stuffed animal and was hoping you could name it. I believe Saki-san has it at your home. Regrettably, the cat I noticed at the shrine on New Years is missing. I'm not sure what happened to it. I'm sorry you couldn't see it. I look forward to seeing you again. My teammates say hello as does Ken-san. 

Tsukasa's eyes linger on the words about Akito. He had thought it before but he thinks it once more.

I need to see him.

But he could also send a message to Akito first.

Ah. Realization drums slowly in his head. I don't have his number.

He takes the time to send a response to Shizuku first, and Touya next, and asks Touya at the end of it for Akito's contact.

If he's going to be in the hospital for a while longer, he might not get the chance to encounter Akito in person anytime soon.

...Should he just ask Hiiro to lure Akito to the hospital on his behalf?

Apparently they'd been in frequent contact.

No.

No, Tsukasa banishes the thought.

"Tsukasa-kun, it looks like the cat they both mentioned is the same," KAITO says.

It certainly was.

KAITO's tiny virtual hand goes to a text with a number without a name. "Would you like to open this one?"  

Tsukasa huffs out something of a laugh. "You enjoy reading these, don't you?"

"The lives your friends live are interesting," KAITO replies, smiling, looking back at him.

As he does, it occurs to Tsukasa that KAITO and the other Virtual Singers likely hadn't gone anywhere beyond the phones of the Wonderland troupe and the SEKAI since December.

That they had been privy to everything that had happened, only much less able to act.

Observers largely trapped in a device.

He remembers Rui often taking Len and KAITO along with him on errands to the outside world. Emu cheerfully bringing all of them to her school's field day.

Surely, these voices Hiiro had spoke about, had been dealing with a great number of feelings too.

He had taken them for granted. A presumption they would be there regardless of what happened.

But even that, Tsukasa is learning to recognize, can change.

There could be a day, would be a day, he might not have them there.

"KAITO," he says somewhat whispering in the dark.

The Virtual Singer continues to smile his way. "Is something the matter, Tsukasa-kun?" 

Tsukasa's eyes take careful stock of KAITO, an odd sense of nostalgia in him though nothing was gone yet.

He commits the small face to memory. He commits it as best he can.

And prays to the higher deities above he won't soon forget.

"Is there anywhere you want to go?" Tsukasa asks softly.

KAITO holds his chin, studying Tsukasa as if studying the intention behind his question as well.

He answers.

"While you were asleep this time, Touya-kun visited and you had a conversation. You asked him about snowboarding and a cabin in the mountains." KAITO stops talking for a moment and holds his chin for longer, like he had fallen into a particularly deep spell of thought. "...I would like to experience that. With the others."

The others of the SEKAI.

Tsukasa understands.

And maybe he understands something else.

That those parts of him those in the SEKAI represented were also fragments of something else, belonging to one another in perhaps a deeper way he would never truly know.

Singers - not just his own.

They were voices that sang individually but sang together too. 

"Yeah," Tsukasa tells him quietly. "That's a great idea."

He smiles at KAITO in return.

"...In the future if there are other things you want to do, don't hesitate to let me know. I'd love to help you try them."

KAITO's blue eyes regard him, deeply, something curious in them. "Thank you, Tsukasa-kun. I will. But you should also know we are just as happy to stay at your side like this as well."

This time the laugh Tsukasa huffs on is significantly louder than his first. 

"Tsukasa-kun?"

I owe you all the world!" Tsukasa gallantly, quietly, happily says. "I wonder how best to repay this debt."

It's fanfare, spoken with the same theatric flare and heroic grin he uses on stage, but he means it, feeling it strongly, the same way he felt every action and belief of his character on the same stage.

He can be the Tsukasa who fiercely loved and fiercely feared being alone.

He can be the Tsukasa who loved to be seen before an audience and praised, and still that same Tsukasa who feared not being good enough or heard.

There is no one 'facet' of himself better than the other. They all worked towards the same goal.

The pieces of him. The parts of him.

The Tsukasa who he was, vying to reach what they believed was a better 'whole'. 

He doesn’t have to pick one. 

"I suppose Tsukasa-kun can simply continue to perform with us," KAITO responds. Like he know the real feelings of Tsukasa’s soul. 

KAITO would. KAITO does.

 In the illuminated blue hue of the phone's light, he grins back at Tsukasa, his grin this time unique. Broad and bright. Vibrantly alive. 

"That should be enough." 

Tsukasa shifts his phone to his other hand, and brings a thumb down to rub KAITO's tiny head.

Of course it doesn't make exact contact.

KAITO flickers at the act. But his grin doesn't wane and neither does Tsukasa's own.

They go back to his messages, reading another.

|Heeeeeeey! Tsukasa-senpai! It's Mizuki! Don't ask how I got this number - alright I stole it from Touya-kun - but he didn't seem to care. We've been hanging out a lot lately. He's terrible at basketball and his fashion-sense could use some work. We went shopping the other day for Akito but obviously since otouto-kun wasn't there we needed a live mannequin to test the clothes out on so I told Touya-kun he should pick the clothes he wanted for Akito himself and try them on. It was awful. He matches too many short things with long things and stripes with squares. You seem to be much more fashionably aware. I'm surprised you never said anything to him growing up. But whatever, it's fine! Hey, when you get back to school we should take a trip together to the mall. You and I and Touya-kun can drag otouto-kun out with us too. You wouldn't believe how hard he's been avoiding me. I've even been coming to school! 

Tsukasa thinks of course Mizuki should be going to school.

Then he recalls that according to Akito's own words in the conversations they used to share - that Mizuki attending the day was something of a miracle.

They've been hanging out with Touya.

And it looked like they had gotten considerably close. Or maybe they were close before.

Tsukasa remembers that Mizuki and Akito had been shopping together before Christmas, and that Mizuki had been well aware of the special relationship between Akito and Touya as well.

During the school festival, they had come across as good friends.

Current things with Akito sounded difficult, however.

If Tsukasa closed his eyes and told himself to think about why, he would see a car and snowy sky that felt like ages ago, from another time. But he'd hear the sound of wheels and breaking glass the same.

And feel a breath leave him, the quietest inhale - surprised - before he gets struck.

So Tsukasa doesn't close his eyes.

He can't always dream in the SEKAI.

It had never been his choice to go there in the times he'd been asleep, rather a force beyond himself that brought him there, to recover.

This would be his first night - Tsukasa's first night - sleeping back in his world here. Fully aware.

So...

No more pretending, he tells himself. 

KAITO's glow remains a lighthouse. Stagnant, familiar in the nook of his arm and face. "Would you like to read one more?" KAITO kindly questions.

Tsukasa hesitates, then nods. 

|Tenma-san, hello! This is Kobayashi Yuzuki, your class representative. I apologize. I asked Kamishiro-san for your number. My brother tells me you're doing well!  I'm reaching out to inform you not to worry about classes you missed. There was a kouhei who stopped by in December when you were in the hospital the first time. He asked for detailed notes on the topics covered across subjects from our teachers and myself. He sat in on a few of our classes as well, with special permissions from his homeroom teacher I heard, diligently taking extra notes of his own. He seemed bothered that we have some big tests coming up in February, but I did explain to him that you would likely be granted extra time to prepare, or may even be exempt. I will pass our collected notes to you when you return. Everyone eagerly waits for you safe return, and sends their best wishes. They've said the days feel somewhat boring. ...Also don't let my brother tell you anything he shouldn't about me, alright -

"Do you think that was Shinonome-kun too?" KAITO inquires.

Tsukasa had no doubts who the kouhei note-taker was.

He considers, in this growing, insistent feeling to now act, luring Akito to the hospital to see him face-to-face again.

No, he chides himself - sternly - to knock ridiculous thoughts off.

He should have patience.

That was one of the most important lessons he had learned.

He shifts where he lays, frowning, the thought of Akito now a niggling, persistent presence in his head.

Shortly after, he sits up.

It's painful but not by much. He can feel his own body getting stronger by the passing hour.

KAITO vanishes, and re-appears on the sheets on top his knee. "Tsukasa-kun?" he says.

Tsukasa shakes his head.

And lies back down.

Trying to settle, he opens an odd trio of messages from his sister, father and mother - in that exact order - that looked to have come in at fragmented intervals, delayed from several mornings ago.

He does a double-take. 

|Onii-chan. There's something barking in your room. Sometimes I hear algorithms at night. What is that? I'm seriously scared.

|Hey Tsukasa, there's some math coming out of the present Rui brought over.

|Hi honey, just thought you should know there was some kind of mechanical dog in the box Rui delivered to us a while back. It was acting a little strange and started flying around the house, frightening Saki. It did seem like a giant bug. A smart one though. Its math was astounding. Your father caught it in a net and took out what he believes is its battery. I apologize. If you'll be awake tomorrow and able for visitors, I'll bring him to you.

Tsukasa stares.

And stares at the messages.

As he does, his phone begins to buzz.

The suddenness of it nearly causes him to throw it in fright. Thankfully he doesn't.

The name of his psuedo-little brother shows on the screen.

It takes Tsukasa aback for a bout of time - before his somewhat stunned brain pushes him to answer.

He doesn't think it's against any sort of hospital rules to be having a personal call on his phone at eleven at night.

He had been astute and well-behaved in his visits to the hospital for Saki, wanting to be careful for her sake, but Tsukasa couldn't really say he knew much about the rules of a hospital when it came to being hospitalized himself.

"...Touya?" he questions low.

KAITO doesn't disappear.

And not a single sound comes from the other end of the phone.

Tsukasa shares a glance with KAITO, confused. "Er- Touya?" he tries again, speaking a little louder, but not much louder, than before.

A breath -quiet.

And the call is hung up.

Tsukasa calls back.

It goes unanswered.

He calls back again.

It goes unanswered again.

"Tsukasa-kun," speaks KAITO delicately as Tsukasa makes an attempt as if possessed to call again. "I don't think they'll answer. ...It's late. Should you try to get some rest?"

Tsukasa looks at the phone in his hand.

There is no reason for Touya to call him and not speak a word.

No reason for Touya not to return a call if he's calling first.

Unless it was a mistaken dial.

But Tsukasa hears the echo of a small inhale in his mind - and has a deep, unsettled feeling in him - that the breath he heard didn't belong to Touya at all.

He keeps his phone with him in bed as he slowly lies himself down. He adjusts the sheets around himself more carefully.

He turns onto his back.

He stares at the speckled ceiling of the hospital.

"...KAITO," he says aloud after a while. 

"Yes, Tsukasa-kun?" 

"...Are you able to stay here until I fall asleep?"

He's not embarrassed to ask it, but it does make him feel like a smaller kid.

A kid who starts to think too much in the alone space of their bedroom in a house, seeing monsters in shadows, and frightening shapes in the dark.

"Yes, Tsukasa-kun," says KAITO as if there was never a need for Tsukasa to ask, "I can ask Rui to give you a call too. Would you want that?"  

Tsukasa keeps staring at the ceiling. Yes, he would.

But it's late.

He had already seen Rui. Had already given Rui maybe a dose of 'too-much-Tsukasa'.

Tsukasa laments the wicked deep dives of the night tiny insecurities and doubts liked to try and bring out.

And he tells himself there is nothing wrong with wanting to hear the sound of a person he loves to the death.

Who - don't doubt yourself Tsukasa - loves him to the death too.

Apparently. 

Not apparently. Knock it off. 

"Do you think he's up?" Tsukasa questions.

If it's not midnight, Rui probably is. 

"I'll check," KAITO says anyway.

Then he's gone.

Tsukasa is plunged into the dark.

He isn't frightened.

But he is left thinking to an insurmountable degree. And the thoughts press down on him, bearing down on him, telling him that this is likely what Hiiro meant.

That when he left the hospital, when he started spending less and less time away from the lights of the SEKAI, the impenetrable safety of that world, the reality left to face in the days ahead would be much more vast, and silent, and cold.

He thinks of what he had been like before Hatsune Miku and WonderlandxShowtime came into his life.

How he slept at night before.

How he viewed himself and those around him before. 

If he hadn't known them, the moment he had gotten hit by that car, he might've just been dead with no return.

That was Shinonome Akito who had given him a call. 

I wonder why he has Touya's phone, Tsukasa thinks.

He keeps thinking about it, as if it's the one thought helping keep him afloat.

From what - he isn't sure.

His own phone vibrates. His thumb swipes to answer. 

"Tsukasa," speaks Rui. Calmly. Imploringly. "Tsukasa-kun, what's wrong?'

He sounds like he'd been in the middle of working on something. Tsukasa recognizes the tone.

"I think I'm afraid to sleep," he answers Rui, just as calmly. "Without going to the SEKAI."

The sound of tools rolling over a desk and shifting papers filters through to his ear.

"That's alright," says Rui. "Would you like me to talk with you until morning comes? I would be happy to."

"What are you working on?"

"The rocket enhancements for your wheelchair."

"Rui, what? I said I didn't want them."

"Did you? I could have sworn you wanted speed boosters put on."

More sound of moving papers. When Rui talks again he sounds significantly troubled. Falsely so.

"I spent all these hours working out the details. Are you telling me I have to scrap them all?"

"The only ones who wanted speed boosters was you and Emu," Tsukasa accuses. "You can't make me feel guilty about this. And hey - what's the big deal with sending your dog in a box to my house?"

"'Pochi? Ah. You remember him, I'm touched. That's right. My Christmas gift for you. I thought it would be a nice surprise for when you returned home so I asked your parents to keep the present safe."

"It broke out. It was flying around my house." 

"Oh? That's incredible," and Rui truly does sound amazed. "I never configured it to! It must have taught itself how." 

"That's terrifying!" 

"Tsukasa-kun, you're in a hospital," Rui chides. "Should you be so loud?"

Tsukasa scowls, and scowls at his phone, at Rui, at the dark around.

The dark he doesn't care about so much anymore.

...Tsukasa snorts. It hurts his body like a sneeze. The smallest reminder there were still some things in him broken. Like glass.

He closes his eyes, and there is glass. And the eyes of Akito.

The smallest, taken-in, breath. 

"...Tsukasa-kun." 

"Hm?" 

"I have a story to tell you. It's quite long. Is that alright?" 

Before Hatsune Miku.

Before WonderlandxShowtime.

It was the truth that a part of him had felt incredibly, incredibly alone.

So he had to perform.

To be seen and to be heard.

That was true. 

Without precious, important people around, yes, on that day, he would have been dead with no return.

But Tsukasa had a family, and Tsukasa had friends. And they told him he was the reason so many things for them had become good.

He truly understands his little sister now. He gets it. He'll keep getting it with time. 

Because of the people around him, he is able to live, and walk a path to 'good'.

Though he had always been good.

And always been enough.

"Tsukasa-kun?" Rui questions, softly, waiting patiently. 

"You really are great," Tsukasa tells him just as softly so he knows. "I'm listening."

Morning brings noiseless blues and muffled whites on a peeking horizon through a sitting, wintered cityscape.

Though winter will soon leave it fast - and the buds of new spring will take its place.

Tsukasa is jerked from a dreamless, deep sleep by his own snore, and jolts awake, blearily, drooling over the twisted pillow beneath his face.

His phone still clutched in his hand, starts chuckling, and disoriented Tsukasa stares at it, trying to remember who and what and where he is and why.

White sheets on the floor.

Tsukasa scrunches his face at his phone, noticing first that a call had been going on for eight hours with a blurry name is blurry eyes won’t make out. 

Noticing next it was just past seven am.

Then he notices something else, that's he not alone where he lies in this foreign room.

There's a person at his bedside, only a little bit taller than him, he remembers, if he were to stand up.

His mother.

In a cozy blue sweater, her short hair brushed neatly in its usual bob to her neck, gazing upon him with unbridled affection and joy.

She leans forward and lightly brushes the wayward strands of his unkempt hair from his face, and lets her fingers travel through all of his hair carefully on his head.

"Tsukasa," she greets.

"Have a good morning Tsukasa-kun," Rui tells him gently from his phone.

The call is disconnected just as gentle.

Tsukasa blinks at it in bewilderment.

His mother doesn't seem surprised in the slightest, not at all.

She asks him instead, with all the love in the world:

"Are you ready to go home?"

Chapter Text

Fresh air tastes clean and cold and crisp, like newly-washed fruit, cut and sliced, placed across his tongue. There is no wind, but a brush of a gust that comes once and rolls welcomingly, teasingly, over his skin.

He can't get enough of it.

The color of the world before him is vividly blue. Deep and settled, with robust, tumbling clouds.

He drinks in the sight of it, and drinks it in some more.

It's a short journey from the sliding doors of the hospital on the first floor, and leisurely they go, to his mother's car parked by the nearest lot lamppost among the scattered collection of many others.

It's a longer journey, just to get into the actual car. 

"Hmph!" he boasts anyway. "A chair like this is no trouble for me!" 

A boast redacted in the next instant immediately as he misses one of the arms of his wheelchair and fumbles loud and clunkily back into it.