Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Sho stopped in front of the door, unable to bring himself to step forwards. Beyond that door was RedShift, the band that had turned his carefully planned life upside down. Beyond that door was the band whose activities he had been following for years. Beyond that door was Aiba.

He wondered if Aiba might prefer it if he quit working with RedShift. He had certainly done more than enough for the band. He knew that many questioned his enthusiasm for RedShift; they were good, but this was Tokyo. You couldn’t throw a stick in this city without it hitting a musician, and a lot of them were as good. Some were even better. So why RedShift, Yamanaka-san had asked him, once, on a rare occasion when they had gone out drinking together. He couldn’t say anything, except “they’ve had a big impact on me; I wouldn’t be where I am without them.”

He knew that Yamanaka-san hadn’t quite believed him, but it didn’t matter. The producer believed in RedShift’s potential, and that was enough. The new single, the band’s debut, (if one didn’t count the self-produced EP from their indie days) did very well. There were certainly a buzz throughout the industry about RedShift at the moment, one that grew even louder when word got out that Sakurai Sho arranged the music and was one of the vocalists. It had been something he and Yamanaka-san decided on, not to make it a big announcement. They never hid the fact that RedShift was his project, but they never advertised it, either. They didn’t want anyone to think that it was a gimmick, that RedShift couldn’t stand on its own without him. They didn’t want anyone to think that RedShift was “Sakurai Sho’s band.” Fans knew about it, of course, what with the interviews and appearances they’ve had, but it took awhile for others to catch up on.

RedShift was doing well, and he knew that they would continue to do well. Probably would do so, with or without him.

So why was he still there?

“Sho.”

He jumped a little upon hearing the voice. “Nino,” he said, letting out a long breath, before facing his best friend. “I thought you’re already inside.”

“I thought you’re already inside, too. What were you doing, standing outside the door like that? You looked like a kid afraid to go into the classroom because he didn’t finish his homework.”

Sho made a face at that, but was relieved by the normalcy of Nino. Either Nino didn’t know about the breakup, or Nino was pretending that things hadn’t changed. It didn’t matter. Sho was glad. “I was thinking.”

“Of what?”

“Of how maybe this band really doesn’t need me anymore.”

Nino snorted. “We never really needed you, Sho. Even if the thing with Voyager didn’t pan out, I’m sure there would be other options. But that’s not the point, is it? The point is, you’re one of us. It doesn’t matter that you’re some famous pop star; once you step into that room, you’re RedShift. You’ve been part of us a lot longer than anything else you’re doing right now.”

Sho was touched. He had never quite got over the fact that he had once lost not just Aiba, but also Nino, and he was glad that this time he at least still had his best friend. His eyes were suspiciously bright as he gave Nino a wobbly smile and said, “thank you.”

Nino narrowed his eyes at Sho for a moment, muttering, “you’re weird.” He pushed Sho forward, making the pop star stumble into the studio. Three pairs of eyes looked up at him; one immediately looked away as they met his.

“Found this guy standing around like an idiot outside,” Nino announced loudly, causing Sho to wince.

Yamanaka-san’s voice came through to them from the sound room. He sounded annoyed, but the crackly quality the sound system gave his voice made it hard to take him too seriously. “Both of you are late. Let’s start right away.”

“Yes, mom,” Sho and Nino chorused, pausing to grin at each other before heading towards their instruments.

Sho took care not to look at Aiba or Jun the whole day.

Aiba watched Sho, out of the corner of his eye. He looked a little paler, a little thin, perhaps even sickly. Since it had only been a few days since they had last met (Sho had called in the day after their breakup, saying that he had ‘food poisoning’) it worried him more that he thought it should. Was Sho eating properly? He knew better than most how busy Sho was. Sho was careful not to skip meals when Aiba was around to remind him, but now he wondered if anyone was taking care of Sho.

He has An-chan, Aiba reminded himself. She’s the kind of personal assistant that most people only dream about; she’ll take care of him. Still, he worried.

In the few days after he walked out on Sho, he had had time to think about the things they’ve said, and about his decision. He probably would still make the same decision if anyone asked him now (although he might have tried to do it in a nicer way, and perhaps get Sho to promise to take proper meals first) but it didn’t stop him from pausing every now and then, and wonder what if.

Their relationship seemed to be an endless parade of awful timing and misunderstandings, and it made him think that perhaps letting go would be for the best. Sho still had a chance to do what he wanted, instead of being tied to Aiba, and Aiba’s dreams, for the rest of his life. He was pretty sure that Sho had never even thought of becoming a musician before meeting him.

No, he didn’t regret his decision at all. The only problem was sometimes, he wondered. Perhaps he really would have been good for Sho. Perhaps Sho had been, or would be, good for him.

Now, he would never know.

There was definitely something weird going on that day, and it annoyed Nino that no one was talking. As if he didn’t have problems of his own; now he had to be stuck in whatever shit Aiba and Sho had gotten themselves in.

His brows furrowed as he concentrated on a particularly difficult rift. Whatever it was that was going on, it must be bad, because he knew what the band meant to Sho. To even consider dropping out of RedShift... Nino wondered what could have prompted it.

Sho was wrong about one thing, though. RedShift did need him, perhaps more than they used to. They only had one single out under Voyager so far, and were working on their second, but that first single had done better than any of them (except maybe Yamanaka-san) expected. Nino didn’t think he would have known what to do with the fact that he was suddenly no longer the guy from a band that had been around forever and living on two part-time jobs, and was now the guy from a band that was poised to be the next big thing. But Sho had been there, and his presence reassured Nino that it was going to be okay.

And then there was the fact that they wouldn’t have had the response they did if it wasn’t for Sho. Nino knew his own capabilities; he knew that he was good. His songs were unique, and while they may not catch everyone’s attention at first they grew on people. Jun’s lyrics had a certain charm to them, that makes simple phrases seem like they mean so much more. They were good at what they did, and if they went on as usual, they would have a following among those who were into that kind of music. But with Sho’s arrangements of the music, they were reaching out to a wider audience, so Nino understood that it was at least partly with Sho’s help that RedShift had what they had now.

When Jun made a mistake, Nino immediately looked at Sho. Sho had been particularly tough on Jun since RedShift joined Voyager. It annoyed Jun, but Nino had a feeling that the vocalist was starting to develop a deep respect for Sho. Nino knew that Sho was worried because Yamanaka-san originally wanted Jun out of the band; Sho was doing all that he could to keep RedShift as it was.

To his surprise, this time Sho didn’t say a thing. Nino stared at Sho, before looking at Jun, who had a bewildered expression that probably matched Nino’s. In the end, it was Ohno who spoke up, telling them that they had to do that take again, and telling Jun not to be so tense. It made Nino look at Jun again, and he realised that Ohno was right. The vocalist had been kind of jumpy that morning. And Sho was blatantly ignoring both him, and Aiba. He turned to Aiba, who was watching Sho with an expression that Nino couldn’t even begin to describe. Aiba soon noticed Nino looking, though, upon which he reddened, and ducked his head, as if he was caught doing something bad.

Don’t tell me... Nino felt a headache coming on as he connected the dots.

Jun didn’t know what was going on.

He had called Sho up when Sho was sick. Sho had been perfectly nice to him, but it sounded forced. It made him think of the last actual conversation he had had with Sho.

Was Aiba happy?

Jun had told Sho that Aiba was, but the truth was he had no way of knowing. Aiba seemed happy enough, back then, but it was nothing compared to the way he had seen Aiba behave since he got together with Sho. He wondered if Aiba really used to be that happy, once. If so, he didn’t know if he could say that Aiba had ever been truly happy when they were together.

Even though it was long ago, the realisation hurt. He was over Aiba. He had told himself that so many times, and he really believed that it was true. But lately he had been spending a lot of time with the bassist, and sometimes he would feel - not what he had felt before, not exactly, but a kind of slightly sad, nostalgic “what if” feeling, one with a question mark at the end. If he had persisted, would Aiba have eventually fallen for him? Would they have been great together, the way he once believed they would be?

He understood now that Aiba would probably never be as happy as he was with Sho, but it didn’t stop him from wondering.

He had resented Sho at first, seeing the idol as an intruder into the band he had come to think of as his family. But after finding out Sho and Aiba’s history, and the fact that Sho was really one of the first members of RedShift, he realised that to Sho, he was probably the intruder. He was glad that Sho didn’t seem to see things that way. After working with Sho, his newfound tolerance of the idol gave way to a grudging respect. By now he was starting to really look up to Sho, and the fact that Sho seemed to be avoiding him filled him with unease.

He even made a mistake on purpose, an attempt to force Sho’s attention on him, but the other vocalist just ignored it. In the end it was Ohno who spoke up, and the encouragement in the drummer’s voice warmed him up slightly, even though the fact that Sho was possibly mad at him for reasons unknown was making him feel small.

Everyone but Nino was being weird that day. Nino didn't even count - sometimes Ohno thought that weirdness was a prerequisite to being Nino, and that it was just that he had gotten used to it to the point where it was no longer weird. He didn’t think too much of it, though; he was pretty sure that Nino would fill him in when they went out for dinner later. Aiba and Sho were going through some things, obviously, but it wasn’t something that he would get involved in. It was Jun that he was worried about.

The vocalist had been spending too much time with Aiba lately. Ohno worried that Jun might be falling for Aiba again. Since Jun’s behaviour was getting more and more erratic as time went by, Ohno had hoped that Jun would one day settle down again. He had never seen it, but Nino told him that Jun used to be different, when things were still good with Aiba. But if it was Aiba... Ohno remembered the Jun he had first met, a regular customer where he had been a bartender. He didn’t want Jun to ever be that way again.

Halfway through the song, Yamanaka-san interrupted them, announcing that their single had went two spots up the Oricon charts. The fact that it was in the top twenty alone was overwhelming. Now that it was actually climbing the charts, Ohno felt a strange, uneasy feeling sinking in.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want RedShift to do well. But he worried about how the band would survive, if they became big before they even begin to get a grip on what was happening to them, and how it would effect the strange rifts and tensions in their relationships at the moment.

He looked up, and saw that Nino was looking at him. His thoughts seemed to mirror itself in Nino’s face, and he gave a small shrug, as if to say that the only thing they could do was to try to keep themselves grounded throughout everything. Nino glanced at Sho, and Ohno thought that a small smile of relief flickered through the songwriter before he nodded, almost imperceptibly, at Ohno.

The task of keeping the band together, no matter what, would fall to them.