Marigold Eyes

“I promise there won’t be another cryptocurrency Incident, Shu-niisan.”

Scissors glide across a sheet of fabric—snip—a hum carries over from the receiver, then there’s a shuffling of fabric and a slight creak of wood, followed by a few soft footsteps.

“I’ll oversee the new world like I did in SS, and I can have it where transactions aren’t even Implemented.”

“Well, I’m sure everyone that was involved has already learned their lessons, so I wasn’t too worried about that in particular. Though… that is reassuring.”

“Then if you’re worried about strangers being able to Watch, the world can also be set to ‘Private.’ ” Natsume leisurely sits up on his bed—and the moment he does, he catches a crumpled music score falling from the mountain of paper in his roommate’s bin.

Frowning, he removes his phone from his ear.

“You’re able to do that?” Shu asks, on speaker.

The search results on his phone show a list of large bins and prices. “As a ‘God,’ I Can.”

“I was under the impression we only had one ‘god’ within our circle.”

“Haha, it’s only a few changes of Settings—it isn’t as tangible as some of the acts Kanata-niisan has performed Before. But in Short, no one will be able to Enter, except for those that have Permission.” Natsume taps on a listing. 

“Then… What about any traces of data?”

“By default it’s set to be automatically deleted after a set period of time without Activity. But I can permanently wipe it clean even Earlier.”

Snip… snip.

“Is there anything else you’re uneasy About?”

“…I suppose those were my main concerns. I’ll admit, I was starting to have regrets over refusing a recording of our opera, if only to show you four then burn. While it would be nice to procure everything for our set again, that’s simply irresponsible as another personal expenditure. Being able to save some funds and recreate it in the SSVRS is a weight off my shoulders, so I accept your offer. You deserve nothing but the best retelling of it within our means.”

“I’m glad to Hear.” Natsume smiles, glancing at the time and ultimately closing his search tab. “But if that’s All, I should get Going. Mika should be arriving at the airport Soon.”

“Ah, then I won’t keep you. Please tell him to take it easy for me. He nearly made himself sick yesterday evening.”

“Eh? Is he Alright?”

“Yes, well, I feel partly responsible for what happened, but, ahem. He’s fine. It might be related to the thing we wish to share with you in person the next time I fly over. Until then, you have my thanks.”

“That sounds even more Mysterious… But Alright, I’ll be sure to watch over Him. See you Soon, Nii-san.” 

And before Natsume completely leaves his dorm, he calls out to Nazuna’s pet rabbit. 

“Be Good, Koppe.”

 

 

As he sits in the airport, he can’t help but wonder what Mika could’ve come down with. If it's minor enough to not postpone his trip back, maybe it was fatigue? Recently, Shu and Mika have been busy with that private performance of theirs, so it’s possible Shu felt guilty for making Mika run around with him. But if it’s as simple an explanation as that, why wait to talk about it in person?

“Nakkun~!”

“Oh, there you Are.” Natsume gets up and is consumed. A bear has him in his grasp as a light floral scent floods his nostrils—he couldn’t laugh if he tried. “Oof.”

Before Natsume can bring his own arms to wrap around Mika, the boy separates from him with a smile, grabbing a hold of his forearms. “Thanks fer bein’ the one ta fetch me.”

“It’s Nothing. I’m glad to see you Too,” Natsume says. “You’re awfully energetic for someone who flew for Hours.”

“Since ma flight was late at night, I managed ta sleep fer a good chunk of it, even if it was a bit cruddy. I’m pretty much still in France's time.”

“I was about to invite you out for Dinner, but I guess I should be asking you out to lunch Then.”

“Hehe, I’m starvin’, so either sounds great.”

“Then, after we drop your stuff Off…” Natsume steps back and holds out his hand, winking with a short bow of his head. “Shall We?”

 

 

As they make their way across the patches of grass leading back up to the Seisoukan, the few light fixtures speckled throughout the area start lighting up from activity.

“Phew~” Mika has his left hand on his happy tummy, gently swinging his other one back and forth with Natsume’s. “I needed that.”

Natsume grins. He really did. During their lunch-dinner, Mika practically inhaled his food while he caught him up on his activities as of late. Seeing Mika have such a big appetite is reassuring, but it piques even more of his curiosity on what ailed him.

“Oh, that’s Right. Shu-niisan said that he’d be okay with using the SSVRS for that performance you two were working On.”

“Really?” Mika beams. “That’s great! Mind if ya help me set up a bit before you head to bed?”

“Hm…” Natsume slows to a stop, without letting go of his hand. Maybe it’s been a while since he’s been able to get a good look at Mika, but there’s something that makes him seem so much more attractive to him right now. There’s a mature air about him, which is admittedly distracting, since Natsume needs to discern how well he is to be at work.

“Course, if yer feelin’ tired, I can wait till t’morrow.”

“Nah, I’m Alright.” If it’s just setting up, Natsume doesn’t see the harm. “We Can.”

Pivoting, they head towards the ES building to grab a pair of VR headsets before returning to the dorms. After making sure no one is doing any late night reading or studying in the library, they settle on one of the couches and enter a new world when Natsume finishes his initialization of settings.

Pixels swirl around them as they materialize in a generic outdoor venue modeled after ES’s own. The boundaries of the area, though, remind them of its true virtual nature, with the grass abruptly cutting into an endless sky. There’s enough room to build and paint supporting structures, directing attention to their stage design in spite of that. And the upper limit of the world should be tall enough for the height of an opera house, but still, it wouldn’t be hard to adjust for more space if necessary.

“How does it Feel?”

Mika slowly looks from left to right, upwards and downwards, before feeling comfortable snapping his head back to him and smiling. There’s no UI elements for it, but Natsume can practically see the musical notes and an affection meter going up. “I think ya got ‘em right, I should be okay with this.”

“That’s Good. What do you think about this ‘base’ venue Then?”

“First impressions, I’ll say…” Mika glances around once more. “The space’ll work just fine!” He steps off with a hand outstretched, “I could start with the foundation over here, adjust the stage dimensions there…”

The boy zips around, listing off potential pillars and foundations, laughing all the while.

“Nn~! I’m just… so excited fer when Oshi-san’ll come back to share it with y’all.” Mika’s fists tremble in their clench, then he whips around bearing a huge, dorky smile. With his arms outstretched, he begins running towards him. “I’m so, so excited, I think I might hurl!”

Natsume grins, and the momentum hits his chest at full force, causing him to bring a leg back to stop them from falling. It works, for a second, before his forceful step clips through the floor and launches the both of them out-of-bounds.

The stage seems to get smaller as they spin away in their hug—at least the general shape of it, in its blurry form. Eventually though, their speed dies down, leaving them floating and hugging upside down.

“...Haha, seeing you so excited makes me excited Too.”

When Mika remains unresponsive for longer than Natsume expects, he glances at the back of his head. “Mika?”

“Um, Nakkun.” After pulling away from his shoulder, Mika tries his best to focus on his face. “S-Sorry, I actually think I’mma…” His avatar vanishes.

Oh. Even with Mika’s adjustments, their spin just now- “Hurk…! ”

The stench of bile radiates from Natsume’s chest when he rips off his headset. The river cascades down relentlessly, from the collar of his shirt, down to his lap in meaty splats. He scrunches his face, accepting the course of fate in stillness.

Once his stomach spasm has calmed, Mika pants, looking up at him weakly. “S-Sorruugh…” He tilts his head down again, blinking away his tears.

Natsume gently, but firmly, places his hands on his shoulders, providing him a sense of stability. Maintaining a calm and soft voice, while his facial features hold most of his tension, he asks, “Do you feel another Wave?”

“Nngh…” Mika slightly tucks his chin.

Good thing he’s on the first floor.

“Can you Stand? Hold onto Me.”

With some effort, Mika manages to lean against him while they trudge over to his dorm room, making their way into the bathroom. And just in the nick of time too. Mika crumples onto his knees, slumping over the toilet bowl in a horrid retch.

Natsume hovers over him, drawing back his bangs and the sides of his hair with his hands. He turns his head to the side, suppressing a gag of his own, until the rest of Mika’s undigested food settles in the toilet.

“Ah…” Panting, Mika grabs a piece of toilet paper. “Nngh.” A few more breaths and he blows his nose, clearing the bits that made a wrong turn out. Fluuush. He grabs at the neighboring countertop, pushing himself up with Natsume’s assistance, to where he hangs his head above the sink.

“Hah, hah… Ugh.”

He runs the faucet, planting his hand back down for support.

“Hah…”

Droplets of water bounce into the curvature of the sink, fighting against itself to drain, but with a few more moments, Mika gives the pool of water its own breather and cups the stream into his hands. It spills down his fingers before it pours into his mouth. Swish, swish. “Bleh.” It trickles and rejoins the small pool below.

“…You Okay?”

Swish, swish. Trickle… “Sorta. Feel gross. Wanna shower…” With his still head hung, he turns the faucet off. Grabbing at the collar of his shirt, he begins to tug so that the patch of puke doesn’t touch his face as he pulls it up and over his head.

“Let me help Then.”

So as Mika finishes disrobing, Natsume quickly slides the shower stool to sit near the drain, exits the bathroom to grab spare towels and clothes, then returns and takes his place near the corner to add to the biohazard pile, loading the washing machine with it.

“Wait.” Mika lifts his forehead from the wall, then twists off a ring from his left hand’s middle finger. “Can ya help… put this on ma nightstand too?”

Natsume nods, holding out his palm. “Yeah, hang Tight.”

He walks over to the nightstand in a hurry, but when he pinches the jewelry off of his hand to place it down, he lingers, shifting it in his hold and catching a glint from the room’s main light.

The pink gemstone is reminiscent of Shu-niisan’s hair color, and the golden metal securing it in place makes it seem so delicate, yet sturdy. It isn’t like anything he’s seen on him; if it weren’t for the fact that Mika was wearing it, he wouldn’t have thought it belonged to him—even with the engraving that uses his personal pronoun:「Ore」

“Siiiigh…”

Natsume blinks, placing the ring down carefully between the legs of a teddy bear, and hurries back inside of the bathroom.

“Did it get Worse?”

Keeping his forehead pressed against the wall tile this time, he replies, “Head hurts. Jus’ needed ta let that out…”

“Do you want to lie down first Instead?”

“Nn, stench’ll cling. Don’t wanna deal with washin’ the sheets, hah, so soon after. I’ll tough through it.”

“Alright.”

Detaching the showerhead first, he holds and angles the water so that the initial burst of cold water doesn’t shock Mika, and when he feels it finally warm in his hand, he aims it at Mika’s head.

“Nn.” He tenses.

Natsume’s eyes widen as he jerks the stream away. His eyes trail down to the side of his neck, his shoulder. Making a small side step, he then sees it. The thin red lines littered across his back glisten with the droplets of water that have struck them.

“Mika.” Natsume doesn’t know where to begin, but ends up asking, “Is it Okay?”

“Huh…?” He vaguely processes it. “Oh. Just a sting, I’m fine.”

Relaxing his shoulders, Natsume carefully directs the water back to Mika. After giving him a thorough first rinse, he makes sure not to irritate the scratches on his back any more than necessary when he shampoos and soaps him down. He feels him relax as more of the water hits him again, suppressing some of his nausea, and once he’s squeaky clean, Natsume finally has his own quick shower while the other boy goes to dry his hair.

The angles seem too difficult to be self-inflicted, so it must be…

Natsume relaxes once again, letting the water whisk away the remaining product on his hair and body. Squeak. He would’ve liked to bask more, but he finishes up and gives his hair a preliminary drying using a towel, before wrapping another around his waist to go help Mika seated on the toilet lid.

Once the boy’s other arm is through his pajama t-shirt, Natsume lets Mika lean on him again until he falls into his bed.

“Thanks.”

“If you need Anything, don’t hesitate to call me if Otouto-san hasn’t come back Yet.” Natsume leans to give Mika a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll be borrowing your clothes for a Bit.”

“Mm.” He gives him a small smile before draping an arm over his eyes.

It feels strange when he finally has them on. Though a perfect fit on him build-wise, it might be the aesthetics he’s not used to—in fact, he can almost hear the skull shriek in the mirror at its new, temporary owner. But it’ll have to do; he’s probably going to be asleep by the time the dryer finishes, and he doesn’t want to go out in just a towel. 

He softly closes the door on the way out of Mika’s dorm, returning to the library to take custody of the dirty cushion. On the way outside, he borrows a sponge, a bucket of water, and soap from the kitchen, then heads into the grass. And as he gets to work, his mind is completely clear save for the singular thought that echoes.

They did it.

It’s the only logical conclusion. A ring? Velvet battle scars? Overdoing it to the point of nearly becoming sick? They’ve finally consummated in passion. The announcement Mika is so excited to share with them must be of their engagement.

Natsume squints in concern at the cushion in his hands, stubbornly emanating sickness.

He sighs, scrubbing harder. There’s a guilty feeling that dwells in his gut. Despite how excited Mika is to reveal it with Shu-niisan, the surprise is ruined—despite how hard it must’ve been to keep in. 

The actual performance will be a surprise still, he guesses. Whether he should hold his tongue and act surprised during the real announcement is something he’ll have to deal with though. He could bring it up when he checks on him next, but it might be a little embarrassing to be bluntly confronted with: “You got proposed to and had manic sex with Shu-niisan, didn’t You?”

Natsume squints in even more concern, holding up the cushion again.

Scrub, scrub…

 

 

———

 

 

It was a mistake to check on him in VR.

Natsume clenches his eyes shut, but he can practically still see the flustered face on Mika as the boy holds his cheeks.

“You… saw, didn'tcha?”

Natsume remains still, but he nods after a second and opens his eyes. 

Mika’s head, inches away, blocks out a lot of what he’s built, but it’s too late; Natsume has already seen the tremendous progress made with the opera house structure and the bits inside.

“Sorry. I didn’t want to startle You, so I entered Instead. The preview still showed the default Stage—I didn’t think I’d be spoiled by Much.”

“Ah!” Mika lets go of his face to slam confirm on a prompt that pops up at his side. “I nearly forgot…” He slumps and sighs.

His head then cranes back up and behind him, looking at his work—of dreamy architecture no doubt inspired by the French aesthetics Shu admires. He takes a couple steps forward, and after adopting a more relaxed stance with his hands on his hips, he smiles apprehensively.

“Thanks fer remindin’ me. I think I woulda cried if somethin’ happened without savin’ all this.”

Stepping closer to match Mika’s perspective, Natsume takes in more of his work. “I guess you’re well enough if you’re nearly Finished.” Meeting Mika’s eyes again, he decides to let him know. “It’s Beautiful—a lovely location for your engagement Announcement.”

Mika’s gaze trails downwards to the floral adornments hanging over the still-open doors. “…Cat’s outta the bag, huh?”

“The ring was unusual for You.”

“D’ahh… yeah. Ya saw that too.”

“I feel a little bad for having so much ‘Early Access’ to what you’ve been Planning, but I’ll keep it a secret from the Others, don’t Worry.”

“Ya better.” Mika pouts. “The only surprises left are the costumes and script—at least fer you. So no peekin’ in the files or nothin’ until Oshi-san comes back!” His brows furrow angrier until his act falls apart into a small giggle. “Got it?”

Grinning, Natsume holds up a finger. “Got It.”

Their pinkies wrap around one another before Mika pulls away.

“Well, I said that, but it’s not like I’m quite done with the interior, and there’s a few shoddy placeholders near the side rear. If you’d like ta watch fer a bit, then be my guest~”

“I won’t be in the Way?”

“Not at all.”

Taking up Mika’s offer, Natsume stays and watches, filling the ambience with comments or questions when the sound effects of creation grow lonely, and Mika indulges him by completing the dialogue. The texture of the building begins looking more refined than when he first popped in, and Mika even starts tinkering with the special effects of some objects’ scripts. 

Feeling his presence bordering on spoiler territory once again, Natsume excuses himself.

“I should get going Now. Remember to take a break to Eat. It’s time I had my own Breakfast.”

“Mm, thanks!”

Natsume hovers a finger over a menu, peeking back to the boy. “Oh, and Mika?”

He turns only his head. “Nn?”

“Take it easy with Shu-niisan next Time, Alright?”

As Natsume dissipates into pixels, he catches the last of Mika’s surprised smile and blush. And having returned to the real world, he makes a smile himself, noticing the rosy shades on the boy’s more life-like cheeks, when he places his VR headset on the library table next to him.

 

 

———

 

 

Rei sloppily covers his mouth as he yawns, letting his hand drift further down as his eyes squint more closed. The infection soon spreads to Kanata, seated to the left of him, whose hand doesn’t even manage to lift from his lap before he succumbs to it. And just when Natsume starts to feel his jaw itching to open- 

Bang! He flinches, turning to look at their new arrival at the Seisoukan theater room door.

“ ‘Tis the day! This mysterious announcement of Shu’s finally comes to light!”

“Hehe. Good morning, Wataru~”

Rei fights off another yawn as he also greets him. “StarPro really is scary with you early risers…”

“Mm~” Kanata stretches his arms upward. “That’s not true, Rei. I’d like to gradually wake up like a ‘cat,’ if I could.”

“I think a lot of us would like That, Kanata-niisan.”

“Oh?” Wataru takes a seat next to Natsume. “I was under the impression that we—and Shu, for that matter—were naturally early birds.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m necessarily an early Bird. It’d be more accurate to say that out of us Five, both of us don’t waste time starting our Days.”

When Natsume has a sleepover with either Rei, Kanata, or both, he sometimes feels envious of the two’s comfort, looking so calm and peaceful, snuggled all cutely within their covers when he wakes first. It’s mainly from habit, but he could definitely take a page out of their book sometime, and see what it’s like to delay spiking his cortisol so soon after rousing.

Come to think of it, he wonders if he shares his sleeping habits with Mika or not. Erratic work schedules and having to wake up for school has made it hard to tell, but now that they’re graduated and have the luxury of being a bit more picky with jobs…

“Mornin’~” The devil strolls in, opening the door less explosively, and Shu follows in afterward, locking said door just as calmly. “Good morning.”

Shifting to a stand, Natsume shoots a knowing grin to Mika, then glances over with a prouder grin to Shu—who becomes a tad curious at the sudden softness from him. As the couple make their way to the front of the room, taking precedence over the blank silver screen, Natsume walks over to a table off on the side, picking some SSVRS headsets up.

“Oya, what’s this? We are to venture into virtual reality?” Wataru asks.

“Who Knows? I’ll let Shu-niisan and Mika-kun Explain.”

Kanata helps pass a headset over to Rei before taking one for himself. “I was ‘wondering’ if they had something to do with the announcement.”

And when Natsume reaches Mika, he whispers into his ear. “I reconfigured the settings to detect extreme movement this Time, and to make sure that your visual feedback will Stop.”

“I made an invisible floor just in case, but thanks!” Mika whispers back with a smile.

Natsume reciprocates the expression, lingering a little, before turning to Shu with his set. His gaze trails down to where his niisan grabs ahold of it, and Natsume feels him warmly brush over his hand. The weight lessens, at first slowly, then all at once.

He looks from their fingers, upward.

“I’m excited to be seeing what you have for Us, Shu-niisan.”

Shu glances at his partner before mirroring both of their smiles. “We won’t disappoint.”

After Natsume finally takes his seat, the two open with a short explanation of the family emergency that birthed the creation of their opera. To hear the fuller circumstances of their sudden flights, and the emotional whiplash that ensued, it’s understandable why Shu was unenthusiastic about informing the rest of them earlier, when he not only had to reel from preemptive grief, but to process his grandfather’s life story.

“There are a few details I’m leaving out for the sake of time, but I hope to convey the relationship, the significance, of my grandfather’s story to the announcement we wish to share with you four now.”

Mika positions his headset to hover above him with his palms. “Everyone, please make your way inside of the SSVRS~”

Natsume finishes loading in a little later than everyone else, but the tail-end reactions of his niisans are about what he expected.

“Ooh.” “How lovely!”

Kanata and Wataru both unconsciously step forward, craning their heads up to the impressive height of the opera house, as Rei hangs back with the rest of them, taking his time to appreciate the craftsmanship before voicing his appraisal. “Not bad~”

Shu nods, beginning to walk towards the doors.

“Indeed. A job well done, Kagehira.”

Mika giggles, following close behind, with Rei and Natsume sharing an amused look, doing the same. Eventually, when Shu calls out over his shoulder, Wataru and Kanata catch up to them too.

Inside is dim. Countless rows of seats fill the area, with columns separating the left and right wings from a wide center. A few lights from above provide sparse illumination after all of them fully set foot inside, and they all take care in their steps, continuing to follow Shu and Mika as they lead them down to a spot in mind.

Close to where the orchestral pit is traditionally designated, they shuffle into the middle of a row—blocking the view of a dragon plush, rabbit plush, and a portrait of a person who looks startlingly like Shu—while the couple make their way backstage.

The lights dim once more, leaving the rest of them to gossip about the guests behind them, until a rich, warm violin that cuts through ascending piano notes, and accompanying instruments, recalls their attention. 

As the red curtains draw back and reveal Shu and Mika, Natsume’s eyes widen when spotlights shine on the two of them, clad in their costumes. A striking groom’s black, and the purity of a bride’s dress, all embelished in characteristics of Valkyrie’s craft. Something in his chest wells in time with the music.

They spring into their first act, with the stage, lights, and effects all transforming as their story calls for it. It’s a tale as old as time, of forbidden romances and turmoil of one’s station or identity. The conflict alone has Natsume sympathize, and he finds it hard not to be endeared when-

“Pfft!”

He and his niisans burst into laughter when Valkyrie indulges in slapstick humor.

But once the two fall back into song again, the swell of feeling engulfs Natsume’s chest. It begins unfurling as flowers bloom within the stage’s background props, as gentle light bathes everything in warmth. Though the particles of flower petals are likewise gentle and dainty, falling all throughout the stage…

It prickles like thorns of a rose.

Shu animates out of a pose, emulating the graceful movements of a crane in courtship, reaching outwards to his audience. Then, once Mika has sung his line in turn, he faces back towards Mika with a palm.

« I love you. »

Mika dances closer, presses his palm against Shu’s, and repeats his French.

« I love you. »

A tear runs down.

The two of them twirl, resuming their choreography with the triumphant, staccato-like bursts of their finale, crossing each other’s paths and gliding into the final pose they assume. Reaching out towards each other with a hand, and holding one close to their chest, they look tenderly into each other’s eyes.

The last of the flower petals flutter downwards, and Shu’s expression softens alongside the smallest tremble of his hand.

Sniff. Kanata exhales a small laugh beside Natsume, bringing his hands up. Clap. Clap.

“…Wunderbar! Magnifique! Splendid!” Wataru and Rei soon join. Clap, clap, clap… 

And Natsume blinks away another tear, softly chuckling as well. Clap, clap.

Shu and Mika both slowly turn to them and deeply bow, uprighting themselves to proudly smile as their avatars burst into one last floral whirlwind—petals melding with the rest on the stage before fading completely. 

One by one, Natsume’s niisans take their leave, disappearing from the virtual world. Default pixels dissipate into air on both sides while Natsume himself remains in his seat, shedding a few more tears and bringing his hands up to his face.

It isn’t a surprise at all, but the emotions spill.

Out of their circle of five, they knew if one of them were to get married first, if at all, it was definitely Shu and Mika. And after all that’s happened, he couldn’t be more proud of how far they’ve come; he couldn’t be happier for them to finally tie the knot.

“Haha,” he sobs, growing wide-eyed. Inhaling shakily, he wipes his eyes one more time before composing himself and lifting his head, admiring the stage one last time.

“Congratulations, Shu!” Kanata is already tearfully rushing over to the two. 

After the man barely sets down his and Mika’s headsets, next to a row of media players, he grunts, “Oof.”

Giggling, Kanata lets go of Shu before he can even hug back. “Congratulations, Mi~san!”

“A-Ah.” Mika’s hands freeze above Kanata’s back as he blushes. “Shinkai-senpai…!”

When Kanata lets go, Mika’s right hand gets assaulted by a firm grip from Rei. “Congratulations. It’s an honor to have you as our husband-in-law now.”

Mika’s voice bounces, like his arm’s struggle in following each exaggerated up-and-down shake. “Oh, um, s-sure!”

“Fufu.” Wataru sneaks behind Mika to rest a hand on his shoulder with a resounding pat, pat, putting an end to Rei’s handshake. “Technically speaking, Mika-kun has been our lover-in-law of sorts, hasn’t he?”

“Hm~ Or since he’s been studiously learning French lately…” Mika reddens even more, looking from Wataru’s profile back to Rei. “Perhaps he prefers the terms, ‘paramour’ or ‘metamour’?”

“Alright, alright, enough already. Stop teasing him,” Shu sighs. “And that’s not even pure French, Rei.”

Kanata tilts his head. “It’s not?”

“I guess not,” Rei chuckles. “Well, in addition to our congratulations, I believe a thank you is in order.”

Shu raises an eyebrow.

“I think I can say for everyone that it means a lot for you to go through the effort of performing it again just for us. Especially because of the sensitive contents.” 

“But of course. I trust the four of you after all. It would be a different story for the masses the young lady wishes to have watch.”

“Oh, those ‘rumors’ going around, huh? I think it would be a real ‘beautiful’ performance for your fans though, Shu.”

“Non! Not you too! I wish nothing of our opera to be seen so frivolously!”

“Oh.”

The four of them look back to Mika, who smiles at the floor and starts to rub his elbow.

“Um, I was already kinda wearin’ this around.” Mika raises his left hand. “Ehehe…”

“You were parading- ” Shu sputters, flushing with each attempt at continuing. “You were parading that around for the past few days?!”

Mika looks back up. “I thought it was discreet enough…! And yer the one who gave it ta me too!”

“As an accessory to our costumes. I intended to get you a more proper engagement ring.”

Turning away, Mika holds his hand close to his chest with his other, pouting. “But I think this one works just fine!”

“Hoho!” Wataru laughs, “Is this an extended skit? I had hoped to converse about the craft of everything we’ve seen! So many elements of the stage were intricately weaved within the narrative, I’m just positively gushing to discuss!”

“I’ll admit, even in my weary condition, I feel invigorated by your heartfelt performance that I’m curious as to…”

“Mhm~ It’s as if it were ‘blossoming’ with…”

“…truly, an amazing show of…”

“Nyehehe, that’s ‘cause…”

The edges of Shu’s eyes soften, looking beside him, to his partner. They squint closer when the corners of his mouth turn, replying to Mika’s commentary. It’s so intimate… Natsume almost wants to look away, but he’s sure the image has already sunk into memory.

Right when he feels his eyes start to burn again, his niisan looks over to him, maintaining the same soft expression for a moment before it hardens with a slight furrow of an eyebrow.

“…right, Nakkun?”

Natsume blinks, and his gaze slowly drifts over to Mika’s—he’s giving him a smile, though a little shy.

When his other niisans’ attention begin to shift towards him, Natsume feels the tingles of blush. By focusing his attention on Mika though, he circumvents the majority of his anxiety.

“Sorry?”

“All of this wouldn’t’ve been possible without yer suggestion in the first place. Ain’t that right?”

“Well…” Natsume glances to the side.

He leisurely rises from his seat on the sofa, gathering the abandoned headsets on each cushion, and walks off to the side-table to deposit them.

“It's true that I did pitch the idea to recreate it in VR, but you’re the one who did the actual work of remaking Everything, Mika.”

“D’ahh, don’t be so modest! Really, I bet Oshi-san and I were gonna burn a hole in our pockets otherwise. And ya even took care of me when I got all sick.”

Shu snaps his head back towards Mika. “You got sick? ”

Badump.

“O-Oh.” Mika tenses. “A lil’. I just got a bit woozy from bein’ in VR.” His eyes widen, and he holds up his hands in front of him. “But, but! It was ma own fault, not Nakkun’s or anythin’! Don’t be mad at him!”

“I was just concerned, not angry?”

“Ah. Well… I wouldn't've minded if ya only scolded me though, hehe…” 

Only when Mika relaxes his shoulders does Natsume force his own to relax too. He fully turns to face the table, reaching over to a wad of sticky notes and an uncapped pen. And, after a second, he casually jots down an explanation.

“Natsume?” Shu prods.

“Sorry.” He peels the note off from its stack, pasting it near the edge of the table. “I just remembered I should be with Gardenia right about Now.” Facing everyone again, Natsume smiles apprehensively. “I know it’s quite a bit of Stuff, but I’ll come back to fetch everything Later, so don’t worry about It.”

“Hm? But Nacchan, during Ryuseitai’s dinner, Midori mentioned that Tatsumi is doing the ‘watering’ duty for today?”

“That’s precisely why I decided to go over and Help.” He starts making his way over to the door. “A lot of us have been busy with pre- and post- graduation plans Lately, so I feel bad that he’s still taking a lot of responsibility for Gardenia in the midst of It.”

With his hand on the door, Natsume glances down, feeling the weight of everyone’s gazes again. Still, he maintains his smile even if they can only see the edge of it.

“So I’ll be seeing you All.”

 

 

A peacock butterfly sips at the nectar of a pale pink flower, pressing its wings together once, then splaying them out again in its colorful glory. Natsume slowly reaches out, but it startles and flies off, having had its fill.

“Ah…” His hand droops back onto his watering can, and he sighs. 

That wasn’t his most graceful exit, but he just couldn’t bear to hear all of his niisans sing praises of that performance and that stage—not when there’s something he feels off about it.

The climactic catharsis startled him, but it was truly beautiful witnessing it. And yet, still…

Rustle, rustle. “Oh? Why, if it isn’t Natsume-san. I wasn’t expecting you here.”

“Kazehaya-senpai,” Natsume says, straightening his back into a stand. Despite knowing the man was due, he’s still a little surprised by his presence.

Tatsumi chuckles. “We’re in the same graduating year now. There really isn’t a need to be so polite.”

Smiling, Natsume replies, “Then that would apply to you Too, wouldn’t It?”

“Ah, you’ve caught me there, I’m afraid.”

“Still, you’re a year Older, so it feels a little improper Otherwise.” Natsume turns back to the flowerbed in front of him, tipping over his watering can. “For similar Reasons, I can’t help but address one of my niisans' younger brother with ‘-san’ Too.”

After another arc of his arm, he addresses Tatsumi again with a hopeful look.

“I haven’t thrown off your recent routine Now, have I?”

“Not at all. Actually, meeting you now is quite convenient for me.”

“Hm? And why is That?”

“Do you remember that Phantom Airship project you had Alkaloid participate in?”

Although Natsume may have blackma- Ahem. Although he may have (firmly) convinced that purple-haired phantom into agreeing… “I would say Sora was the one who spearheaded most of the Project, but Yes. What about It?”

“I was hoping it was possible to access that world for a few photos. Mayoi-san thought it might be nice to have inspiration from our old work, to help think about our next one.”

“I’m pretty sure the world hasn't been deleted Yet, so I could grab those shots for You. Is this Time-sensitive?”

“Hm, not really. We still need to take photos of Hokkaido and a specific rose garden too,” Tatsumi says. “So even if you have to take a week or two, it would be appreciated.”

“I’ll try to get it for you today or tomorrow morning Anyways,” Natsume promises. 

In the first place, he still needs to grab all the headsets, and… access the SSVRS to delete Shu and Mika’s stage too.

“Expect them to be delivered by a Shining Message to Hiiro-kun.”

“That’d be a great help, thank you.” Tatsumi bows with his head. “If you’d like a favor in return, I’d be happy to be of assistance.”

“No, that's Fine, it’s the least I can Do.” Natsume takes a moment to scan the rest of the flower beds and garden plots. “Though… I guess for Now, there’s a few places I haven’t gotten to Yet.”

Tatsumi smiles. “Leave it to me.”

 

 

After Tatsumi thanks him for the help once again and takes his leave, Natsume sighs, making his way back into the dorms. For a moment, it seems he won’t bump into any of his niisans, until he notices Shu sipping a cup of tea in the common room, next to a few idols who are reading or texting.

“Ah, Natsume.”

“…Shu-niisan, you’re not with the Others?”

“We’ve long finished our initial discussion. Despite my throat having already grown parched, it wasn’t enough for our chatterbox—seeing that he nabbed Kagehira into an outing for different one.”

Natsume laughs. “I See.”

“Since you weren’t present for the majority of the discourse, we found it wasn’t as enjoyable to talk at true length either. I was hoping you’re free enough now to share a few words in my room.” He takes one last sip, placing his teacup and saucer down with a small clink.

“Sure, let’s head on up Then.”

The elevator ride stretches for a bit longer than usual, but once Shu closes his room’s door behind him, Natsume smirks, raising an eyebrow.

“Nii-san, we could have borrowed the tea Room. Don’t tell me you had something in Mind? It's a little early by your standards to have a romp in the Sheets.”

Shu doesn’t entertain him with an outward reaction.

“Did you lie to me when I asked about how you would feel? Or now that it’s no longer a hypothetical scenario, you’ve had a change of heart?”

Natsume stiffens, dropping his smirk.

“No. I haven’t lied about that.”

The discernment in Shu’s eyes doesn’t waver in intensity.

“I know it just makes sense for you two, and that you’re not necessarily picking favorites or anything.” Smiling, Natsume relaxes a bit, teasing again. “And even if you were… You still have my blessings.”

“…Then what were those pining looks you were shooting at me earlier? As if you’ve ceded to some sort of love war?”

The unease returns.

“I was just feeling proud for you two?”

“‘You two.’ You’ve been saying that more frequently as of late.”

Natsume furrows his brows. “It’s only natural to acknowledge the event of your guys’ engagement with that phrase, isn’t it?”

“You left as if you couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Nii-san, that’s not- I’m not jealous. I’m not jealous of your guys’ relationship.”

“Then why are you being so prickly?”

“I’m Not.”

“Natsume, I just-”

“What?”

Shu flinches.

“…S-Sorry.” Natsume stares. “I didn’t mean… to snap like that.” 

Lowering his gaze, he continues. 

“The truth is… There was something bothering me by the end of your guys’ opera that I didn’t want to mention because of the mood—I just don’t know what. But if there’s anything I want to assure you of, it’s that I really, really, am happy for you two.” 

He steps closer, lifting his head again.

“Please believe me, Shu-niisan.”

Shu’s expression softens again, looking a tad pitiful.

“I do.” He closes the rest of their distance, wrapping his arms around Natsume and holding a hand at the back of his head. “But should you find that’s no longer the case, I want you to feel comfortable discussing it with me.”

Drawing back, he looks at Natsume expectantly, until the boy replies, “I will.”

Peck.

Natsume blinks, watching as Shu pulls away once more to look back down into his eyes.

“I love you.”

He thinks it must be embarrassment from how he wants to look away, but Natsume maintains eye contact, giving his niisan the smallest, gentlest of grins. “I should get going for Real.”

“…Right, I’ll leave you to it then.”

 

 

Lugging all the headsets back to NewDi’s office with only a pair of arms is a little cumbersome, but not as cumbersome as the thoughts that begin occupying his head.

He really isn’t.

Natsume huffs in exertion, readjusting his grip on everything.

Shu said he believed him, but would he have worded that last bit like that…? Tinged with an expectation that he’ll eventually confess to his sin of jealousy?

The longer he takes to figure out just what exactly bothered him, the more it’ll convince Shu he is jealous, burdening him with more worry. Then the others will inevitably worry too. And Mika…

“Hah-”

He manages to nudge open the door and make his way towards the elevator without accident. The trip up to the seventh floor is somehow quicker than the Seisoukan’s third, giving him less time to mull before he’s back to business.

When he reaches the area near Senpai’s office, he carefully places all the headsets down in a line—all save for one.

“Alright,” Natsume sighs, taking a seat on a sofa.

The world plunges to black, and the luminescent screens before him preview accessible worlds as a god. He swipes once, twice. It takes him no time to find the thumbnail of the Phantom Airship with their meticulous organization system. 

Flying around as a fairy, it likewise makes the process of gathering scenic shots of each area within the world a breeze. He saves and sends the files to Hiiro using a handy HoldHands integration plugin, before calling upon the luminescent screens once more.

Natsume swipes back up toward the most recent worlds he’s created, stilling as he looks at the preview: a warm golden hue that cuts through electric blue, pinks freckled throughout, and two tiny figures standing clad in black and white.

Vines coil around his chest as an admin prompt appears. 

Natsume breathes, placing his headset back down where it belongs.

It hurts, but he hasn’t… lied.

 

 

Whether or not he manually deletes it doesn’t matter. Come a few days and the world will disappear on its own. He implemented extra security features, and in the first place, the permissions are strict; no one is entering or extracting anything in his jurisdiction. 

The mere thought of seeing even the thumbnail again…

Badump.

He was hoping to do another short visit to investigate, but in the meantime, he’ll figure it out without resorting to one. It’s not as if the imagery of their stage has already wilted in his memory yet. Deleting it before he can fully appreciate it one last time… It seems… like a waste. And he’d rather not reset the deletion timer unnecessarily when he can’t muster the will to do it himself.

It’s just a case of branching paths here. Route A, he figures out whatever is bothering him before the stage disappears, visits it one last time to confirm it without the odd pain, then he’ll delete it once and for all. Or Route B, he takes longer, and may never quite figure it out with the passage of time, but he'll continue living day-by-day, as he has done with the countless small mysteries that he’s encountered during his life.

He already satisfies the win condition either way—at the end of it all, he’s happy for Shu and Mika.

The lamps of Time Street begin switching on, freckling shops and restaurants with a golden hue. Some customers walk past him in a hurry with their armful of bags, while others stroll casually, chatting. Natsume stands out of the way of foot traffic, and wonders if he should start making his way back, when he feels a prolonged vibration in his pocket.

He lazily brings his phone to his ear, tapping the general location of the accept button. “Hello?”

“Nakkun~ Ya done with work yet?”

Oh, it’s Mika. “Yeah, just About. You?”

“We’re wrapping up right now, and- Good work, today!” Natsume can hear the smallest bit of exertion in Mika’s voice as he probably bows. “—And I wanted ta know if ya wanted ta go out?”

“For Dinner?”

“Mhm. I said I was the one feelin’ gross the other day, but you were the one I hurled all over. Never got to apologize fer that.”

Natsume smiles. “You weren’t Well. And I got to enjoy getting out of those Clothes, then freshening up with you that much Faster.”

A woman turns her head as she walks.

“Still. Ya treated me that day and I ended up returning it to ya all wrong. So let me be the one to treat ya fer t’night!”

A couple passes him by, walking further down and entering an Italian-themed place. Natsume finds his gaze on the ground before he realizes.

“I appreciate It, but I actually grabbed a bite to eat Already.”

“Oh…” Mika sounds a little disheartened, but he perks up for his next request. “Then let me make it up another day, ‘kay?”

“Sure Thing,” Natsume chuckles. 

“I love-”

He widens his eyes, removing his phone from his ear and catching the last of the call screen fading. His thumb remains hovering over where he pressed to hang up, lit in blue. Ah… Natsume smiles, a little guilty. For Mika to brave a declaration so bold when there are probably others around him still… 

The color of the HoldHands logo flashes, giving way for the space of private messages between the two of them. His thumb hovers once more, but ultimately backs out of the app and adjusts itself to help his hand pocket his phone. Rejoining the flow of footsteps, Natsume hopes Mika hasn’t taken his premature farewell as anything other than an accident.

A gentle breeze caresses his face, cool and refreshing, until it takes on a more pronounced aroma. Turning his head, he comes to a stop again, witnessing a street vendor handing out a customer’s plump, large meat bun. 

And he wonders how it would’ve tasted with the both of them.

 

 

———

 

 

Cafe Cinnamon bustles with energy befitting both morning and lunch rushes. The line chugs along mechanically as the air is filled with idle chatter or the varied tap, tap, taps of keyboards. In his periphery, Natsume notices a worker bee darting about, interacting with staff, customers, and equipment with an idolish aura.

He isn’t sure why he came. 

His body feels sluggish, appropriate for the quality of sleep he got last night. Instant coffee back at the dorms would have been easier on him, especially compared to the lines he considers joining, but he’s already deviated from his routine considerably with the time he got out of bed today. The least he could provide himself, he figures, is the comforting cup of joe he would typically get.

Time passes in a lethargic blur. Before he knows it, Natsume is already taking his rightful cup at the counter, passing by stirring sticks, sugars, creams, and their alternatives. A sip jolts him awake, and the warmth of it eases into his body as he heads out.

On the way there though, he notices a familiar head of black and blue.

The two are seated near the window with their own drinks between them, chatting away. A moment passes between them when Rei looks down with a shy smile. Mirroring his expression seconds after, Kanata subtly lays his fingertips over Rei’s.

And though Natsume can’t hear him from where he stands, from that relaxed blink, and that languid, soothing way his lips move, it has to be the declaration: “I love you.”

He sighs, pointing his feet toward the exit again. Ever the lovebirds, and… ever the normalcy. Are they that bold in cafes outside of ES?

Still, he lingers, watching Rei’s smile grow and for him to shift from his slight slouch, so that his head is level with Kanata’s. He has a false start, as if he wants to expound on his feelings, but ultimately he repeats “I love you” as well.

Natsume sighs again, starting to push his weight off of one foot. Before he can fully commit to taking a step though, Rei-niisan spots him and makes an effort to wave.

He startles, turning more of his body toward them again and bringing the corner of his lips into a smile. After he waves back to both of his niisans, he resumes making his way out.

 

 

Flap, flap, flap…  

Somewhere up above, a distinctive flutter of wings cuts through the air, trailing away with a whistle. Natsume blinks, then grows cross-eyed upon tilting his head. He brings a hand up, plucking a white feather off of his nose, and brings it down to examine.

He twists the quill against his gloves, feeling wind resistance when the curvier part starts cupping air, then gently places it down against the grass next to his bent knee.

And he exhales yet again.

“Are you tired? I appreciate that you’re helping me today as well, but I hope it’s not at the expense of your health,” Tatsumi says.

Natsume hums, noting his physical state. “I’m Fine. Just a few things on my Mind, I Guess.”

“I could lend an ear. As you might have heard, my radio offers a place for people to air their worries to me. That service isn’t exclusive to when I’m at work.”

Natsume stabs a spade into dirt, squeezing his shovel’s handle. “…There’s nothing to Confess.”

“While my fans have taken a liking to referring to those segments as a confessional…” Tatsumi smiles, pulling a weed. “A lot tune in just seeking simple advice. There’s no shame in a little help—even if it does include a genuine confession.”

Natsume takes a subdued breath, pinching a small beetle-y pest off of a leaf. 

It’s not as if he distrusts Tatsumi—far from it. Call it a small prejudice, but even if he can attest to the man’s gentle, considerate nature, there is admittedly something that makes him hesitant to bridge the gap.

“Before I Say, would you care to enlighten me on Something?”

“Of course. I’ll try to answer to the best of my knowledge.”

“To be Honest, I’m not that familiar with your Faith, but homosexuality is considered a Sin, isn’t It? I don’t want to bring up a topic that’d end up being uncomfortable for You.” And himself too, for that matter.

“Actually, there are many of us who debate that question with a great passion,” Tatsumi clarifies. “It’s a matter of interpretation regarding scripture, or in other words, His will. But if you are hesitant because of that reason, please rest assured, I will not close my heart to you because of something like that.”

Natsume glances to his side, noting that the man still maintains his relaxed smile as he works. Looking from his face to the raised garden bed before them, he loosens his grip on his shovel.

He feels more at ease than he thought he’d feel. But considering how intertwined their circles are, some ambiguity is probably warranted still… for courtesy’s sake. Unfortunately, that means using the oldest trick in the book.

“Suppose my friend overseas has found himself feeling uneasy with a longtime friend’s Wedding. The two of those Guys—they’ve been through a lot Together, to say the Least. What would you make of It?”

“Uneasy…” Tatsumi repeats, looking thoughtful. The silence that follows is eventually filled once he speaks again. “The most elementary explanation would be that your friend is jealous of his friend’s fiancé.”

“He insists he Isn’t, Though.”

“Then I would believe in your friend.”

When Natsume looks to his side this time, he meets Tatsumi’s eyes, bright with trust.

“It may be the most obvious explanation, but that doesn’t mean it’s correct. We’re operating on our own assumptions with information that’s the most apparent to us. Only your friend can decide where that feeling derives from. If that sounds daunting, try breaking down the wedding into its aspects—its aesthetics, the interactions had there, for example, and what memories it may evoke that muddle your true feelings.”

“…My Friend.”

“Right, I misspoke,” Tatsumi chuckles. “Your friend.”

 

 

Badump. His hand hovers, basking in blue once again. He hesitates this time too, as the options of entering and deleting present themselves to him. And as he continues staring, he laments like one who cannot bear the majesty of the sun, ultimately averting his gaze.

He doesn’t want this annoying feeling to taint such a lovely stage. 

But Tatsumi’s right. He doesn’t need to process it all at once. There’s another, more familiar world he can visit and compare it to. Looking back at the previews, he blurs rectangles until he finds it.

The crowd is already gathering around Valkyrie’s stage once Natsume materializes into the moment of time. Stepping away from his own double, he watches as Shu takes his own steps toward him.

His other self and Shu continue exchanging words with the additions of their units, as he continues scanning the stage. Crystal structures sprout in the shape of multi-colored flowers, the air glitters in gentle blue, and the rest of the scene unabashedly references Tohoku—it wasn’t necessarily his first choice in setting for creating something like Shinsekai, but his hands were a bit tied then. Still, he’s proud of Switch’s rendition, using it as their inspiration.

“Just remember that you have much to learn and improve on, Natsume. But first, perform with us-“

“—and improve on, Natsume.”

“Natsume.”

He chuckles, and he feels a little sorry for the copy of himself that looks so astonished, not having the ability to replay reality to confirm Shu-niisan did in fact say his name. Unlike his nickname, Shu seldom uses it outside of their gatherings with his other niisans—especially not on stage when an audience is gathered to watch them.

It makes him a little happy, to have a little indication of their close relationship be exposed so to say.

What others might see as a simple invitation to perform with Valkyrie, Natsume holds immense gratitude for what it truly was: a reminder of the view as a fellow idol, once he was dragged down from his “godhood.” It’s something he shouldn’t have lost sight of.

“You were cool Then, and you remain so Now, Shu-niisan.” With a smile, Natsume’s gaze lowers to the floor, and the reflections of light made by the flower arrangements. “For reminding my past self of how much further I need to Go, and for reminding me again Now…”

The world resumes with Valkyrie confidently taking the lead together, and the gratitude in his heart starts to ache.

 

 

Tink, tink. Retracting his hand, Natsume deadpans as he ends up bumping his cup against the others in the cabinet regardless of his caution.

“Hey, Nakkun~” The voice rounds the corner of the dorm kitchen, getting closer. “I didn’t catch ya earlier.”

Natsume tenses a little before settling the cup on one of the counters. “You could say I had a bit of a Day.”

“Oh, sorry ta hear…” Within the edge of Natsume’s vision, Mika tries to tilt his head a little to get a better look at him. “If it helps, I wanted to let ya know that there’s no rush to our next dinner date. But I was wonderin’… would ya like ta sleep together tonight?”

Natsume blushes, managing to actually face the boy. “Eh?”

“Oh, um.” Mika starts to blush as well. “That came out a bit- I meant like a sleepover! But, well, if it’s…” he mumbles for a bit, averting his eyes. “Only if ya want.”

When they make eye contact again, Natsume feels a little more guilty declining him for the second time in a row. “No, Sorry. I was Hoping,” he explains, “to get some writing work Done.”

Mika’s effort not to look too disappointed only amplifies the guilt. “Ah, nah, it’s alright. Just make sure ta get some good rest afterward!”

But in spite of genuinely heeding Mika’s well wishes, Natsume ends up sitting at a desk late into the night, crumpling journal paper after journal paper, feeling eerily similar frustration as he jots down stage notes.

 

 

———

 

 

The next day begins with another (un)healthy dose of fatigue. He fights it off as Switch finally has their joint dance practice together before Sora has to head to school, glaring at Tsumugi when he seems wanting to ask something of him; if not for Natsume’s magic, mirroring the excitement for their next live altogether, Tsumugi’s prodding eyes would have worried Sora.

Senpai lets him go though, once they’ve put in an appropriate amount of time towards their new choreography. After sending Sora off on the line leading to Yumenosaki, Natsume becomes free once again to access the SSVRS.

The feeling doesn’t come to him when he visits Switch’s past performances and projects. It’s warm, and he can breathe freely. He relishes in the joyful nature shared with them and their fans wholeheartedly, feeling prideful of their accomplishment.

Yet when he revisits Shinsekai again, it returns vicious, stabbing his chest as sharp as the crystal flower shards.

He places down the headset in NewDi’s office, preparing to go to his recording session for the day. And when he bumps into Mika again, he nods in recognition to Mika’s wave, trying not to let the unease of his heart show on his face.

 

 

———

 

 

“Do you happen to know the meaning of Lilies?”

He could consult the internet like usual, or do some physical research for once in the library, but there’s something soothing about talking and listening to the Diamond of Alkaloid as they garden. It’s no wonder his radio program is so popular.

“Hm… I do know that one of its prominent meanings is innocence. If I recall, it’s also a popular flower of love, and in regards to love, its association with same-sex relationships among women can’t be overlooked either.”

One of Dramatica’s plays featuring Wataru and Hokuto pops up in his mind—and suddenly the lilies make more sense as a recurring element in everything from their sets to their dresses. “Do you Know,” Natsume asks, once another image of Wataru’s rose petal explosions is played in his mind, “their other colors’ Meanings?”

“Off the top of my head, I know that red compounds its expression of love, highlighting passion and desire as well. Yellow, I find interesting due to its conflicting nature with its usual meaning of innocence. Supposedly, yellow lilies are a sign of deception—but I find also beautiful despite that.”

Feeling a wave of fatigue wash over him, Natsume slowly stands, looks up from their crops, and stares in the distance at nothing in particular.

“Do you think polyamory is Condemned?”

Maybe, from how Tatsumi opened his arms to him earlier, maybe… in the face of doubt, he’ll reassure him about the rest of his love life.

“…Truthfully, I’m unsure.”

Natsume adjusts the grip he has on his tool. “Oh.”

“Back when all of us were still getting to really know each other in Alkaloid, Hiiro-san talked a bit about his village customs. Where he’s from, it isn’t uncommon for marriages between more than two people to happen. Hearing that, I reflexively felt discomforted, as it went against my upbringing and the understanding of my faith.

“In a similar vein… When you and I last spoke, I said I would not close my heart to those whose affections lie with the same gender… but after HiMERU proposed to me during a work project earlier this year, it would seem this reflex remains deep-rooted. Though, I suppose I was more so caught off-guard than discomforted that time, but I digress.

“As I listened to Hiiro-san’s anecdotes of various couples, and the solemn recounts of punishing adulterers in his culture’s definition… I began to question my own interpretation of God’s word.

“Whether it be the plausible coincidences that led us all here, or the phenomenon of loving… To this day, I’m not quite sure of what I believe in. But I have the choice—and I choose to believe in what I do. Like I’ve once said to Aira-san, this is a free nation. Compared to the olden days, you’re able to practice what you believe more freely.

“And, where judgment is concerned,” Tatsumi faces him with one of his usual, gentle smiles, “I think one can fall back on simply having faith in oneself.”

Natsume blinks, before turning and giving a smile of his own. “I think so Too.”

 

 

But when the evidence is damning, it’s easier said than done.

The stage distorts in its crude recreation, scrapped together from various angles of footage. It settles once Natsume steps away from himself, accepting the quick render and making his way to stand at the center—where their etchings of flowers blossom within the lit pentagrams.

He slowly turns, looking at Rei, Shu, and Kanata, until he steps towards one of the last points of the stage.

The stained glass illuminates the yellow and white petals of the display behind Wataru. They waver in shape, burdened by the lack of information, but Natsume’s memory fills in the gaps. In just this moment, before they shift into a more solid yellow, they mirror his own flowers of red and white.

“Your lilies bloom in deceit and Innocence, Nii-san.”

Natsume steps even closer to admire him at the ready, resting his eyes and assuming his posture for the beginning of Twilight Pentagram.

“It’s a lovely dichotomy that parallels your beloved tragicomic Masks, and Yet… right Now, I don’t think the one that should be represented by them is You.”

Staring at this reconstructed stage—not unlike recalling the hazy fragments of a dream—it makes his heart well with chilled warmth. One of his most happiest of fantasies actually exists in reality, and yet it’s somehow bittersweet in the current light, just like the memory of Wataru’s goodbye to him before he took to his execution.

This dream is one he begrudgingly shares with Tenshouin, but ultimately one that was made possible because of that guy and Wataru in the first place. For his niisan to recognize the tale being weaved, to forthrightly, pure-heartedly, devote himself to a role he took a fancy to, and see it to the end…

Natsume traces the features of Wataru’s delicate, resting face.

Even you two…

He walks around Wataru so that his profile obscures the other Natsume, while retaining the visibility of stained glass behind his double.

Maybe Shu-niisan was right. Maybe what he’s been feeling this entire time is the weight of his lie. “Maybe you should have the rest of my white Lilies.”

 

 

Knock, knock.

Let him have this—just this. A moment’s reprieve from the railroad he’s on, through the tender embrace of a lover. And may he be blessed to feel more than comfort, to be reassured that nothing has changed. 

The door cracks open, revealing a damp-haired Mika with a towel around his neck. “Nakkun? What’s up?”

“I wanted to know if that sleepover offer is still Available.”

“Oh! Of course!” he laughs.

They settle in with each other under covers. The pillows, the sheets, the blanket that should be soothing to the touch, and the sleeved arms that wrap around him snug… Everything smells like him.

Mika shifts his legs, mumbling one last time before he starts to drift off. “G’night.”

He feels a sense of twisted thankfulness, knowing Mika can't see his frown even if he had his eyes open. He tries relaxing as best as he can, but his heart beats so loud, he hopes it won’t wake Mika.

 

 

———

 

 

Like usual, he rouses early-ish. A chill makes itself known when he becomes more cognizant, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Taking care not to disrupt the bed too much, Natsume slowly sits up, looking over to Mika who rolled over sometime throughout the night.

And despite the boy not being able to see him, he musters up his best smile as he softly whispers to himself, “Like Rei and Kanata-niisan, Huh? Makes Sense.”

Making his way to the kitchen, he grabs some ingredients and whips up a simple but nutritious enough meal to get him through the day he knows will be long. And he’s proved right when the next thing he’s doing is taking a seat in the common room, across a Mophead with breakfast of his own that looks more filling for once.

“Good morning, Natsume-kun!” Tsumugi laughs. “Um… Say, you wouldn’t happen to know about what happened to one of the library cushions, would you?”

Huh? …Ah.

“I replaced It,” Natsume says, replaying the memory with a deadpan stare into the void. “It was too far Gone.”

“Oh, so that’s the case! I thought we had another cursed item scenario, like with those cow statues from last year. It was surprising to see that the cushion was a perfect fit, but with a mismatched color.”

Natsume hums, taking another bite out of his breakfast.

“…Actually, that wasn’t what I really wanted to ask you, Natsume-kun. How are you?”

Raising an eyebrow, Natsume swallows.

“It’s just that… Shu-kun approached me, wondering.”

“Shu-niisan went through the trouble of asking you to check on Me?”

“I was a little surprised myself. He tried to ask about you innocuously, but that only made me more curious.”

“I’ve just been preoccupied with some Work.” Of the personal sort. “I’m grateful Sora seems to be doing well in managing Switch—despite his newfound third-year Status—otherwise I probably wouldn’t have the Time.”

“Oh, I hear you. Lately, Sora has been volunteering to take on more clerical duties in my stead too. He’s been such a great help, honestly.”

“If you make him collapse from your sweatshop roleplay, I’ll kill you.”

“Uwaah, your eyes are scary, Natsume-kun!” Tsumugi cowers, though he gradually relaxes with a chuckle. “But I’m glad you’re still able to make threats like that.”

The tension in Natsume’s brows eases, and his strand of hair drapes further downwards when he slightly tilts his head.

“You know… Sora has been worried about you too. He says that the flowers you’ve been caring for might get overwatered with the ‘grey clouds over Shisho’s head.’ He hopes there’ll be a colorful rainbow soon.”

Sora saw through his magic…

“I see. Thanks for the concern.”

 

 

It comes together as blots of paint upon a canvas. Stroke by stroke, the outdoor stage and outdoor venue completes its metamorphosis, dimming his vision when the roofs cloud the artificial sun, then brightening it when the stage lights shine on Shu and Mika’s avatars.

“O City of Flowers…” Natsume whispers.

The seats form in arrays, filling up the area, until Natsume raises a hand. He swipes upwards, and two columns of seats levitate and scatter into pixels, starting from the two in front of him.

It’s staring. The answer is staring at him, blooming in his chest as he yearns for it. Please, he breathes. This checkpoint is his last.

Shu-niisan, Mika, Senpai, even Sora…

And he’s sure his other niisans are pitying him as well. 

Each step he takes, growing closer and closer to Shu and Mika, weighs his heart. When he nears the stage, and jumps on it with a float, he half-expects to sink when he lands—yet it’s nothing but loving, cushioning him in its light.

He stares at their fingertips, just short of reaching. He stares at Shu’s expression, at Mika’s parted lips, already voicing his declaration he has prematurely stopped for a second time. Taking another step forward to Shu, his eyes burn when the affection becomes clearer. It rotates. Slowly, slowly, until he’s nearly in line with it.

Natsume blinks, shifting his gaze to the profile of his partner standing at eye-level.

He wants to say he hesitates, that he finishes pardoning himself when petals burst from body, and flowy fabrics adhere themselves to him.

One final step, and he’s finally in line with the coveted gaze, but the moment Natsume presses his palm against Shu's, a pit forms in his stomach. He feels his lips press against each other in a tremble, looking from Shu’s brooch to the delicate expression directed down, towards… him.

« I love you. »

His vision blurs with something not innate to the world, and he keeps the spill at bay by squinting. 

“Nii-san,” he chokes, fighting the sob threatening his chest.

Shu knows no better than to continue smiling at him, awaiting the correct retort to advance the performance.

“Nii-san,” Natsume repeats under his breath.

His lilac eyes hold so much pride directed towards him that the weight is crushing.

What comes next from Natsume is croaky, uncommitted. “I-” 

This… is all wrong.

A petal floats downwards between Shu’s gaze, still directed towards him.

Stop it. Just stop it already. Stop looking at him! Natsume’s eyes blink traitorously, blurring even more of his vision. He doesn’t deserve to be looked at with such meaning when he hasn’t done enough to stand by his side as an equal. Not when he…!

“Nakkun?”

Natsume flinches. The pit from earlier in his stomach sinks further. He’s so close to the likeness of Shu, yet his niisan is the furthest thing from his mind the moment he comes to terms with the voice’s owner. 

Fingertips press against fingertips, curling and pushing away from palm. Never has he felt such soft, light fabric become so heavy when he lowers his arm. His collar suffocates him as he slowly turns his head to the front of the stage.

Mika stands with the same set of wide-eyes. “Nakkun, what… is this? I thought all of this was suppose’ta be gone?”

No sound escapes from Natsume when his mouth twitches open.

“Why are you wearin’… performin’ with…?”

He flaps his mouth uselessly, until he furrows his brows and squeezes his eyes shut, turning his back to Mika. 

His arm comes up into a sweep, dismissing Shu, the stage decor, and his stolen costume. Columns collapse. Roofs are torn asunder. The pixels dissipate across the sky like a flock of migratory butterflies, and he feels the familiarity of his casual clothes on his avatar again, but his body becomes no lighter. 

When his gaze finally lands on the floor, the default grey building blocks of the stage reflect his darkening mood.

“…Is this ‘cause of what I think it is?” Mika’s voice grows closer, until he gently places his feet back down after his glide. “Nakkun… We still love ya. I still love ya. Just ‘cause we’re engaged now doesn’t change much.”

“It Does.” 

If it doesn’t, then he shouldn’t be acting so jealous of the two of them.

“Anyone who has the pleasure of personally knowing you two can see it. And if it were more public, anyone who’s followed your work as idols throughout the years can see it. It’s clear that it was a grand engagement ceremony in all but name—a celebration of growth, of love… of acceptance.”

Natsume should know, he’s been by their side since his first year in Yumenosaki.

“You’ve performed on such a wonderful, beautiful, dream-like stage, and now… you two can be recognized as…”

It’s stupid; he knows. They didn’t get into their relationship expecting praise or anything. It was out of the feelings in their hearts for one another, gathering together like a selfish ensemble of love. As long as they had each other, that was supposed to be enough.

“Nakkun…”

The touch on his shoulder is light. It rests upon him delicately, as lovingly as Shu-niisan’s hand had been upon his. The pit sinks to a new depth within him, and he can’t fight the gentle, convincing pressure to turn and face Mika.

Those eyes of his shimmer in blue-gold. They’re beautiful—undeserving of such sorrow. And yet they squint alongside his scrunched eyebrows, threatening to shed the tears that he, too, has already stolen from him.

His hand slides up towards his face, entangling with the long lock of hair that has long ago been likened to a red string of fate. It brushes against his cheek, cradling his face. And it should feel nice, like all the other times Mika has held him tenderly like this, but it’s wrong. Just like with Shu, it’s all wrong.

Slap. “Ah-?”

“I bet you wouldn’t be so sure of yourself if I was the one marrying Shu-niisan.”

The back of Natsume’s palm stings like the prickle in his wide eyes. He gasps, stepping back as his hand trembles in the air, staring at Mika who suspends his own hand away.

“I-” Natsume forces, taking another step back.

Those eyes of Mika’s look no less full of concern, filled with the same shock that had afflicted Shu the moment Natsume snapped at him. “Nakkun-”

His VR headset makes a series of thuds when it collides with the table, the floor. He bursts out from one of NewDi’s private meeting rooms, shoving the door open to the general lounge, dodging chairs and tables towards the hallway.

Mika stands up from one of the seats, holding his own headset. “Nakkun? Nakkun! Where’re you goin’!?”

He doesn’t know. Anywhere. Anywhere is fine. Just someplace far away from this unbearable feeling.

 

 

He’s being unreasonable. All of his other niisans accepted the news with glee, and yet here he is, throwing a tantrum like some child who got their candy taken away. Except that isn’t even the case! He’s still in a relationship with Shu-niisan and Mika and everyone else. What Mika said is true. They all still love each other. So why!? Why does he have to feel like this?!

Why can’t he just accept the course of events, just like his niisans had done all those years ago?

The needle pricks him again. Putting down his work, he sniffs and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. No, it doesn’t matter anymore—he just needs to make this, stuff it, and stab it, stab it, stab it, stab it.

The form gradually takes shape into the vessel of his problem, limb by limb by nubby little limb. He adheres the head, placing the pieces of hair onto each section of it, until the doll looks just like him.

Natsume sets the doll down on his bed, aiming a pin at the torso. Sniff. His hand wavers, hovering over the target, until he feels a pang in his heart when he pierces cotton.

It hurts.  

The feeling compounds, blurring the physicality of his pain and the ache that radiates from within. He doesn’t want to be stabbing him, he doesn’t. But his hand won’t stop, it won’t stop. His chest keeps prickling in pain as he pants, grabbing another pin and aiming it at the doll’s marigold eye. He curses it: “Vanish…! Vanish! Vanish!!”

His own eye stings with the burn of a tear that trails down his cheek.

“Ugh, nghh, ugh…” he sobs.

Cough, cough! He tries to suck air into his lungs before choking and pressing his hand into the doll, stabilizing himself. His chest wracks against the sharp pain of his lungs, and their newfound sense of constriction. Agh…!

He squeezes the head of the doll, bringing it up to his own face. “Why can’t you just go away?!”

“Oh dear. That looks quite painful.”

Natsume’s grip softens.

“Shu would be pained seeing the state of that doll.”

He looks to his intruder, but quickly snaps his head away and back down at his work again.

“…Why are you Here, Nii-san?”

“I heard a lonely boy’s cry for help.”

The bed shifts to accompany the weight that settles on top of it.

“Don’t you have somewhere to Be?”

“I do~ But there’s still time to be had, and to have a pleasant chat~”

“Nothing about chatting with me would be pleasant right now, Wataru-niisan. Not when I’m feeling-” He shakes his head. Even now, with everything, he still doesn’t want to admit it.

But Wataru somehow hears. “If you’re not feeling jealous, then perhaps it may be envy?”

“What difference does it Make? I’m still acting like a child.”

“Hm… Do you know why babies cry?”

Natsume tearily narrows his eyes, glaring at Wataru.

“I’m not making light of you. It is a genuine question of mine, I assure.”

“…There are a multitude of Reasons.”

Wataru grins, waiting for him to elaborate on his ideas—not unlike when they would go over scripts in Dramatica.

“If a baby is Crying, they could be needing their basic needs Met. Or they could have had a Fright.”

“And what is the common ground of those reasons?”

“…I don’t know. Why are we even talking about babies in the first place, Nii-san?”

“Communication, dear. Whether it is to alert their caregiver that they are hungry or sleepy, or if something is amiss, they cry to communicate. For a baby, crying is the only tool of communication, their only vocabulary, they have at their disposal.

“The stimulus of their unmet need or shock is so great, their cries are nearly indistinguishable. Alas, how unfortunate it is. It’d be much more beneficial if they can alter their cries with nuance, such that their caregiver may address them more efficiently.”

Natsume blinks another tear down.

“What I’m trying to get at is… by recognizing and attaching the appropriate words to your emotions, you may gain a deeper understanding of your own needs in the process,” Wataru says. “I struggle with words myself, but they are often enlightening when given the chance to be analyzed. Now just prior to my arrival, what were you wishing for to disappear?”

Natsume glances at his doll, lying in its tortured position between them.

“…My jealousy.”

“Towards?”

“Mika.”

“Why?”

“Nii-san.” Natsume squeezes his eyes. “I’m scared. I’m scared that if I acknowledge any more of it, I’ll come face to face with something I don’t want to be true.” He looks down at the floor. “I don’t want to be the only one who can’t accept them, and be the one who gets in the way of their love.”

“Don’t you think that continuously running away from the answer would get in the way of their love?”

Natsume bristles.

“That’s something worth telling to them… if that’s true. But is it, Natsume? Is the source of your pain truly jealousy? Rather than wanting whatever you perceive they have together that you don’t, you desire to monopolize what you have with Shu and Mika individually?”

“No, it isn’t like that at all.” Natsume looks up into Wataru’s eyes. “I’m happy for them, but as an idol, I…!”

The edges of Wataru’s mouth grow wider into a smile.

“I wanted…” Natsume says, feeling his chest begin to lighten. “I envied a stage like that too. One that celebrates their relationship so absolute, one where its performers are on the same page from the start—a culmination of their shared feelings, from beginning, to end, and beyond…”

“Ah~ So, once again, it would seem we’ve come to heads over our interpretations surrounding another script.”

Natsume’s voice feels small. “Huh?”

“Fufu. You know… Interestingly, although I see how one could view their performance in such a resolute way, I don’t think the story portrayed was so clear-cut as it was made out to be. I even had a chance to speak more with Mika-kun to substantiate it~ But I would’ve been perfectly fine having a contrarian view of their opera—it’s a lonely perspective I’ve grown accustomed to.” 

Wataru’s smile becomes a touch softer, somber, when he notices the sympathetic look in Natsume’s eyes. Despite the load his shoulders have been made to carry just moments ago, his beloved still finds strength to sympathize. 

He gently touches the tips of their fingers together, continuing.

“Though, to find that we shared a similar perspective, on the alternate subtext of gender that occurred throughout the performance… It was pleasant, and a little reassuring. I would say it’s a small miracle that I was able to find that in someone so close.”

A comforting sensation continues to wash over Natsume, as he looks to Wataru’s lap—where he’s begun stroking the red and white material on the doll’s head.

His niisan smiles when he meets his eyes again. “Wouldn’t you say so too?”

As the meaning of his words finally sink in, Natsume brings his hands up to wipe his eyes.

Sniff.

“…I would. And I still need to properly apologize to Mika for how I left him.”

Wataru chuckles, returning the doll of Natsume over to the boy himself, before scooting closer and stroking his real hair. He rests his head against him, hoping the warmth of his love breaches. And, to his delight, it’s reciprocated when Natsume lays a hand on his lap.

He’s patient as he lets Natsume get the last of his sniffles out, returning to a more regular pattern of breathing before he asks, “How do you feel now?”

“Better.” Natsume finally smiles back. “Seriously… You say you’re no good with Words, yet I feel like I’ve been adequately consoled with them just Now, Nii-san.”

“Haha, well, I’m only acting as what a worried ‘mentor’ and boyfriend would be like.”

 

 

Natsume takes a calm breath once he steps outside of the Seisoukan, holding a journal close to his chest.

Wataru-niisan has already left him after the conclusion of their talk, kidnapping Koppe and announcing his destination towards the pet owner himself. And while he seemed sure of where he needed to go, Natsume can say less so for himself.

He strolls along the courtyard’s path, wondering where Mika might be. There’s a chance he’s still in ES where he left him last, but that’s assuming the rest of his schedule today is free. He hasn’t updated his HoldHands status recently, so he can’t even tell from that. There’s no clue where he could have gone to try and find him…

Sigh.

Natsume slows his walk, turning his head to the garden.

Crouched next to a flowerbed, a head of black watches a pair of peacock butterflies perched on a single pink flower. The insects gently flutter their wings as they sip nectar, and once they’ve had their fill, they take off, swirling around each other in the air before they’re gone.

The boy stands up from his crouch, slowly looking back to find him, blinking upon recognition.

Natsume’s chest fills with anxiety, but he steels his resolve, walking closer to the boy.

“Mika… For earlier, I wanted to apol-”

“Nakkun!!”

His notebook is squeezed even more close to his chest when Mika threatens to snap his spine during his hug.

Natsume inhales. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that back there.”

Mika only squeezes tighter before he speaks.

“It kinda hurt to hear, but… you had a point. I might be comfortable spoutin’ reassurances to ya now, but it’s true that I dunno how I’d act if you guys were the ones gettin’ married instead. I thought a while ago that if somethin’ like that were to happen, there’d be death—but I love you two, and my heart hurts just thinkin’ about it now… It’s not like it doesn’t not matter or nothin’, but- What matters is I’m here- We’re here now, and… And-! Ngaah!” 

Mika muffles the groan against Natsume’s shoulder for a moment, pulling his head back up once he’s taken a breath.

“I’ve been thinkin’ of what I wanted t’say to you if I saw you, but now that yer here… it’s like ma mind’s gone all frazzled.” He lets go of his hug only to hold him firmly by the forearms. “But… Just as you’ve reassured me, Nakkun, I wanna do the same fer you still!”

Natsume stares. “Mika…”

“I may’ve been in the crossfire, but I’ll never know how it feels to truly be persecuted as an Eccentric. And I’ll never quite understand what being by Oshi-san and the others meant to ya at the time. But I can understand the feelin’ of wanting to be adequate, of wanting to stand on equal footing with the one you admire and love—of wanting ta be happy with them.

“Because of ya… When y’all were actually seein’ each other and I- When I felt unsure of myself, you’ve helped me remember my place as Oshi-san’s loyal partner who stood by his side. And during OcculticNite, you even called me his irreplaceable partner. But that goes fer you too! To Oshi-san, no one can take yer place as his ‘adorable, beloved boy.’ His boy who’s been tryin’ so hard ta catch up to his niisans. Not even me.

“Oshi-san once said that he’s just a lil’ older than me with a bit more experience, so, um… I dunno if I’m qualified ta say this, when we’re only months apart and I still have a lot ta learn…”

Mika shakes his head.

“But… what I’ve come to learn is… It’s- It’s okay to have those sorts’a complicated feelings, Nakkun. Because those feelings of yers is what makes you human. So let’s embrace ‘em, laugh about ‘em, cry about ‘em. And let’s walk through ‘em together.”

Mika lets go of his forearms, seeming a bit embarrassed when he realizes how tight his grip was. But he steps back, just enough for room to stretch his hand out towards him.

“Lookin’ up all of the time can get lonesome, but I’ll be by yer side.” He smiles lopsidedly. “If… you’ll have me?”

In just a single moment, Natsume questions how he could ever feel so loved.

“Beating me to the punch…” he sighs before smiling. “Now that’s really not fair of you.” 

 

 

———

 

 

“Honestly. I take my eyes off of him for one minute and the next thing I know, he’s spirited off our boy and planned an entire performance with him—an occult-themed one, in spring at that…”

The footsteps from behind Shu settle next to him.

“Fufu~ I thought you were growing used to it. As Valkyrie’s other half, it’s not unthinkable to pursue a personal project now and again. The strings have been cut now, haven’t they? Otherwise, I would exclaim in wonder at the amazing human-like puppetry!”

“I heard from Rei and Kanata you managed to provide some counsel to Natsume. Thank you,” Shu says, leaning more of his weight on the railing and peering down at the stage. “The boy reassured me on our last date, but I do wonder if I could have navigated our conversation better. Or if I was remiss in letting him have space, to have him fester those isolating thoughts of his in the first place…”

Wataru chuckles.

”When I conferred with those two on the matter, they echoed some of your sentiments, wondering if they should intervene before my suggestion otherwise. If you ask me… I don’t believe any of us were remiss. That space, that temporary distance, was necessary for him to properly reflect. It was a chance to forge stronger confidence in the self, if you will. I merely stepped in to help guide that reflection, when it seemed that the image projected started to warp. 

“Ah~ But talking to him was in my self-interest as well—one that went beyond the concern of a lover. Because, well, in truth… I found myself juggling some of those unpleasant feelings that afflicted Natsume-kun too.”

“So you all felt it,” Shu states, turning his head.

“You were getting engaged.” Wataru shrugs. “ ‘Tis quite the milestone for many a love story. I’m still learning the many emotions of my human heart, positive and negative, but I shall like to think it a testament to how much I adore you as well. And mind you, Rei, Kanata, and I all feel it’s minor enough to cope with.”

Shu narrows his eyes. “The moment any of you do start feeling that it’s unbearable like Natsume did, talk to me or Kagehira, and we’ll figure something out. I wish to avoid any unnecessary hurt between us.” His expression softens. “I love you all… too much, for us to fall apart.”

“Of course. On behalf of the others too, I promise. We shan’t let our husband-to-be grow too anxious in his engaged life so soon.”

“Good,” Shu says, then faces back to the performance with an exhale. “For you to use such a term though… We haven’t even settled on our future long-term living situation, much less what sort of paperwork we’d be doing.”

“It is not a decision to treat lightly. Whether you decide to legally adopt or marry him, you have a bright future in front of you, and much time to ponder on that regard. But until then, should I switch between Husband and Daddy until you do~?”

“N-Non! Just who are you calling Daddy?!”

 

 

Below, the steps of choreography clack, clack, clack all throughout the stage. The machinations of their haunted house groan in life, masking just how full of resolve they move with. Books, stuffed animals, candles and repurposed pumpkins (from a certain undying priest’s favor) levitate all around the dancing steps, trembling higher and higher in time with the voices that accompany them.

It is the climax of a tale carefully woven by its protagonists—a witch and his cat-crow familiar. They wander, illuminated by the magic of a changing pact, growing closer again only when they brave the scorching flames beneath them.

It’s always been this stage he’s been denied of. Indulging in this childlike, fairytale of a dream…

A stage that he hasn’t forgotten to be a part of…

With thousands of eyes on them, cheering for his happy ending, as he dances in tandem with his heart.

But truthfully, he may still be denied of it even now. 

On the surface, this performance might be yet another Valkyrie & Switch collaboration to their audience. They may never navigate between the lines, the very ones being weaved between this very moment, and see what he wishes to be acknowledged. If Wataru read Shu and Mika’s beautiful performance in another way, despite Shu’s masterful story crafting… then it might be a long shot for him to wish.

But to have acknowledgment reflected in those eyes of Mika’s, reciprocating the understanding of his growth, their growth… The eyes that fill the seats—it more than makes up for them. 

He may not quite consider himself one, but after all, “An artist should feel satisfied even if only one person understands them,” was it now?

It may be selfish of him to be happy, to be able to stand on even footing by mere happenstance, but…

“Mika-kun.”

I’m glad you’re here with me. Let’s keep doing our best together, for our beloved seniors we look up to and love so much.

Completing his twirl, Mika shoots a glance at Natsume. “Hm?”

“I never got a chance to say it that Time.” Natsume steps in time with Mika, between the gaps of optical illusions. “From the bottom of my heart, congratulations.”

He snaps, and half of the jack-o-lanterns' yellow eyes burn a bright, beautiful blue. After gesturing to them in a mirrored image, the both of them rush towards one another in a crossing of wands—clack!

The brilliance of Mika’s smile competes with the sparks, flying in reaction to their ritual. Using the friction of their contact, Mika raises their wands higher as if in toast. “Hehe. And another congrats ta our future.”

They twirl away from their clash, continuing on with the rest of the choreography, weaving in and out of growing pillars of flame. They graze skirts of red, orange, and yellow, letting themselves be bathed in marigold hues. And with the whole of their hearts, they sing, until the end of it all.

“Yes. To our future, however scary it may be…

“Thank you, for bearing half of these heated feelings of mine…

“For choosing to walk with me on a path less traveled…

“And for giving me your hand too.”

♪~♪~♪