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Screams rise up, adrenaline fills the air, and the light sticks stand out in a sea of colors that spreads wherever the stage lights don’t reach. Banners, wristbands, and the occasional stuffed animal are raised in a gesture of support for the group singing in front of an audience that cheers their names with adoration.
Some faces are teary with emotion, others are smiling at the knowledge that they finally get to see them, while others hide behind masks. And yet, they all come together as they jump, sing, and dance as best they can alongside the band, the stands and the venue floor uniting thanks to the performance of four guys who shine like stars.
“Wow! It’s been quite a while since we last performed that song! And yet y’all still remember it perfectly!” a guy with orange hair and a wide smile calls out above the crowd’s cheers. “Did y’all enjoy hearing it again?!”
“Tsugeura, you don’t need to shout so loud.” The blond, freckled boy steps forward, his tired smile betraying how familiar he is with the situation. “Your microphone will still be audible in the background even without you shouting.”
“Oh, sorry, Nirei, I got carried away.” The cheers rise again, and the orange-haired boy starts laughing, a little embarrassed. “Did you like the song?”
The shouts grow louder, and the group’s laughter only makes them rise even higher.
“Ah… I’ve really missed this.” Nirei smiles at the audience. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other—have you missed us?” The shouts rise again, and this makes Nirei’s smile grow even wider. “We’ve missed you too!”
“Nirei always knows how to get the crowd excited, just like Tsugeura.” A boy with pink hair and piercings in his eyebrow and lower lip steps forward; his charming voice manages to quiet the noise for a moment.
“Kiryu does too!” The boy in question smiles at his freckled friend and shakes his head. Tsugeura turns to look at him with an adorable seriousness on his face.
“Kiryu has a great virtue! The audience knows that, right?” The cheers rise again, and the orange-haired boy nods several times in response. “Our fans always tell the truth.”
Kiryu is about to refuse, but he lets out a sigh when he sees the determined gleam in his friends’ eyes—defeat his only option. He looks out at the audience and greets them with a smile. “It’s been a really long time since we last met. We’ve been working so hard all this time just to see you with the same enthusiasm you always show us; I hope our excitement has reached you.”
“Our Kiryu really knows how to make the fans feel our kindness.”
In the corner of the stage, a boy with burgundy hair raises his voice as he admires his bandmates with amusement, and with a sweet smile, he lets the light shine on the spot where a rhinestone-decorated eye patch dazzles the audience.
The boy’s elegance causes the venue to erupt in cheers even louder than before.
“Suo!
“Come on, come on, don’t be shy now.” The boy with the patch walks over to his friend with a smile and ruffles his hair a little. “It’s nothing our fans don’t already know.
“Our leader finally seems to be having fun! I thought we’d never see him smile like that again!
“Tsugeura!
“Did I say something I shouldn’t have, Nirei?”
“Ah… forget it, forget it.”
The boy with pink hair sighs and shakes his head as he looks at the large crowd in front of them, his smile a little smaller than before. “It’s just that Suo was really looking forward to this day, wasn’t he?”
The boy with the eye patch brings his hand to his face as if in thought, then smiles knowingly when he hears the crowd’s cheers. “Of course, I couldn’t help but look forward to meeting you all.”
“Suo, you really look like a leader at moments like this.”
“Don’t I usually look like that?” Suo smiles at Nirei, but the group starts laughing when they notice the slight shadow in his expression; Nirei, for his part, smiles nervously. The crowd, however, responds with hearty laughter.
“Of course, Suo, I was just saying, just pointing it out.” Kiryu leans on Nirei with a smile as he watches him apologize, and the audience rises again; the sound of cameras clicking with that gesture gives way to the blinding flash the group has already grown accustomed to.
“Suo, you don’t need to make our lead singer nervous.”
“I’m not nervous!”
“But I didn’t make him nervous, did I, Kiryu?” The boy with the eye patch smiles at his freckled friend, who nods quickly while Tsugeura watches them with a broad smile from the side. “See? Nirei says no.”
“Suo, sometimes you’re mean.”
“Huh? Kiryu, this isn’t the time for jokes.” Suo looks at him with feigned seriousness. “It’s time to move on to our next song; our fans have waited long enough.”
“Suo’s right! Are you ready?” Suo lets out a weary sigh at the orange-haired boy’s loud voice. Kiryu smiles amusedly, and Nirei can only shake his head with a small smile. “Louder! I can’t hear you!”
“Because your voice drowns them out, Tsugeura, don’t yell so much!” The audience laughs, and the group can only smile apologetically as the lights dim for the band’s next set.
And in a hidden corner, high up on a small railing separating him from the rest, a boy in a sweatshirt watches the scene with an amused smile.
His hair is hidden by a black cap, and a mask of the same color conceals his expression; the sunglasses he wears hide beautiful eyes of different colors, and as the audience rises for the next song, he simply watches from his spot—as if he were someone of no importance—the excitement with which the audience awaits them.
The boy whispers something to a friend beside him who seems to be less bundled up than he is after several minutes of waiting without moving; his friend seems to nod in agreement, and taking advantage of the fact that the lights are off, he walks toward the exit.
But the boy doesn’t head for the exit or the restrooms; no, instead he walks confidently toward a specific room. When he reaches an area where the staff tries to block his way, the boy reveals his eyes by pushing his glasses down slightly, and thus manages to enter without further complaint into an empty room where he sits in silence.
The noise echoes off the walls with greater force, and the boy with the mismatched eyes could swear he even sees them move. But he still remains in the empty room, waiting; the minutes drag on, and after half an hour, he begins to hear the familiar sound of a team rushing to help his group.
The boy stares at his phone screen, bored, the minutes passing slowly as the noise continues around him, and then the door bursts open with a bang that startles the boy in the mask. He turns around quickly, startled, to look at the boy watching him with a goofy smile from the doorway.
He looks tired, and the beads of sweat around his face keep falling as proof that he ran straight to the room where the other boy is the moment he stepped off the stage. His hair is messed up, and his flushed face only makes the other boy’s chest tighten; his eye shine with excitement, and the stones decorating the patch seem to lose some of their shine with that sight.
“Welcome.”
The boy with the unusual eyes takes off his glasses, and without a single second to spare, Suo throws himself into the other boy’s arms in a hug that screams just how much he’d missed him.
“Sakura!” the other boy lets out a groan, but returns the hug anyway. His embarrassed face is hidden beneath the mask he’s still wearing. “I thought you weren’t coming.”
“I told you that no matter what, I would always show up.”
Suo nods, his smile spreading across his face in a way different from how it did on stage. The boy with the different-colored eyes sighs, and as best he can, he tries to pull away from the other’s grip, but he pouts in defeat when, after several attempts, he realizes he can’t.
Suo, for his part, can only laugh, the tone much lighter and more genuine than when the stage lights were focused on him.
“Oh, Sakura, you always know how to make me feel better.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, now let me breathe for a moment.” The boy with the eye patch shakes his head, hiding in the space between the other boy’s neck and shoulder, Suo’s earrings causing Sakura to feel an unwanted tingle from the gesture. “Suo!”
“I need my dose of Sakura; I’ve been deprived of your warmth for weeks.” The boy in question sighs and shakes his head wearily. “Just give me a moment.”
Sakura looks at him and runs one of his hands through the other boy’s hair; his grip tightens in response. “Then let’s sit down; you need to rest.”
“Sakura…” Suo lets out a groan, but the boy with the mismatched eyes doesn’t miss the way the other boy unconsciously leans his weight against him—a sign of exhaustion far greater than Suo seems to realize.
Sakura gently strokes the other boy’s hair, his face calm despite the blush coloring his cheeks. “Let’s go to the couch, Hayato.”
The boy sighs and, reluctantly, begins to move the other boy without loosening his grip; Sakura shakes his head amusedly at his attempt to stay glued to his body. After a few minutes of walking blindly, and laughter from both of them as they struggle not to fall, they reach the couch in the corner of the room.
Suo automatically clings to the boy’s waist, and Sakura can’t protest when the boy seems truly exhausted. With one hand, he strokes the grip around his waist, and with the other, he runs his fingers through the other boy’s hair, his gaze fixed on a blank spot in the room.
“Was it a hard day?”
Suo shakes his head with a smile. “I was looking forward to getting back on stage, so I can’t say it was. Besides, no matter how exhausted I am, no day is impossible as long as the group is together, although…”
“Although?”
Suo sighs. “Although I would have liked for us to have overlapped during the promotions.”
“You know that’s hard.” Suo pouts, and Sakura rolls his eyes when he feels a wet kiss on the edge of his mask. “Don’t start, Suo.”
“I know, Sakura.” The latter looks at him with an expression that’s hard to read as he hears the defeated tone in the other’s voice. “I know it’s impossible; it’s just that between rehearsals and preparations for this album, we’ve barely seen each other.”
“You make it sound like we haven’t spoken in months.” Suo looks up, and Sakura can see the frustration and exhaustion shining in his beautiful, exposed crimson eye.
“It’s felt that way.”
“We’ve spent too much time together for you to say that.”
“Not like before.”
Sakura looks at the boy who refuses to let go of him, and an image from the past, similar to the one before him, returns with a poignancy that tightens his chest.
Many years have passed since that moment, more than Sakura realizes, and yet the image is no less vivid than it should be. Sakura sighs, and with a heavy heart, ruffles the other boy’s hair as if it were the most natural thing to do, as if time hadn’t erased that gesture and the connection between them.
Sakura was a child when he entered that world where everything sparkles, the cameras all too familiar to someone who couldn’t accept his own image because of people who failed to protect him from malicious comments.
The innocence of a normal childhood was snatched from his grasp, just like the chance to choose what he wanted to do.
His image appears in toy advertisements and on clothing brands because of his unique hair, and in drawings because of his different-colored eyes. Sakura makes appearances in stores and rarely speaks in interviews, but he continues to attend them—even if only to make an appearance and project an image of perfection that will never exist—and remains a model who has no control over his life.
Or at least that’s how it is until he begins to lose his childlike features, because once he starts to grow up, the doors finally close on a young man who doesn’t understand the concept of freedom. Yet, even so, he runs away and leaves as soon as he sees the calls dwindling.
He doesn’t look back, he doesn’t leave a statement—he just disappears, and over time, his image begins to fade from the public eye.
Or at least that’s how it is until he comes of age, when a friend from school calls him to propose what must be the worst idea he’s ever heard in his life. Sakura refuses at first, trying to ignore his attempts to convince him, but he eventually grows tired of dodging him after months and is dragged toward his death for the second time.
That’s how Sakura ends up in front of a group of people from an idol agency who decide to recruit him for their group project after hearing him sing, and when Sakura sees his friend come out of another room with the same result, he starts yelling at him for his nonsensical ideas.
Because the truth is, they had expected a different outcome; the plan had simply been to go, audition, come back with some money for participating, and use part of it for college and the other part for a small apartment to move into later. However, they had been accepted, so now they would not only have to attend rehearsals but also become part of a group of strangers dedicated to singing and dancing—all while not making much money.
Sakura believes that moment was his karma for having fled the blinding lights in his childhood; it was the world’s way of punishing him for leaving his name unclaimed as he should have.
And so, Sakura starts practicing—or at least tries to—because sharing the rehearsal room with the other group that’s been training under the same company for years definitely doesn’t create any rivalry or hatred among the newcomers. No, not at all.
Especially when he has to put up with a guy with an eye patch who stares at him with heavy, annoying smirks. His sharp comments cause Sakura to have to be reprimanded more than once.
But despite everything, Sakura ends up making his debut with a group of peers who, rather than friends, feel like family. A somewhat dysfunctional family, but a family nonetheless—something he hadn’t allowed himself to have when he was a child.
His punishment has now become a gift that fate had bestowed upon him without his knowing it.
“Besides, I don’t like having to pretend I don’t like you.” Sakura looks at the other boy as he seems to snap back to reality, Suo’s eyes shining with a certain nostalgia.
Sakura raises one eyebrow playfully, trying to lighten the tension in his words. “You didn’t say the same thing before.”
“Before, we were young and didn’t know anything. Before, Sakura used to be more adorable.”
“Before, Suo was really annoying.” Sakura replies, giving the other boy a light tap on the head.
“And now you’re still a nuisance, but you know how to put on a show in front of everyone else, so there’s nothing to be done about it.”
“Sakura, you’re so cold.” The boy rolls his eyes. “What happened to the kindness and tenderness you used to have?”
Sakura looks at him as if he were crazy. “Are you okay? Did you hit your head coming off the stage? Do you need water or something? Did Tsugeura give you something weird to drink again?”
“Sakura, you used to treat me nicely.”
“I used to want to pull out your other eye!” Suo lets out an amused laugh at Sakura’s confused expression. “What are you talking about, Suo?! We were always arguing, always fighting, and you never stopped making those weird comments about my childhood drawings.”
“It was my way of letting you know I liked you.” Sakura looks at him in disbelief, and Suo keeps laughing. “I really thought you’d figure it out.”
“You have such a twisted way of saying things!” Suo laughs again, but this time he plants a loud kiss on the cheek hidden beneath the mask of the blushing boy. “Good thing you stopped with that stuff!”
“Huh? But it used to be fun to see Sakura get upset over anything.”
“Hayato, I’m one phone call away from your manager if you decide to do anything.” Suo looks at him seriously this time and shakes his head as he sits up straight in the seat, the hold between them finally broken.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re unbelievable! As insufferable as ever, and you expect me to miss you like that.”
Suo smiles sidelongly when he hears the last words the other boy blurts out without thinking, and carefully takes his hands. “Does Sakura also miss me?”
“Of course, you idiot! Who wouldn’t miss their boyfriend if they don’t see him often!?”
“Sakura! You’re so cute! My heart can’t take it!”
Laughter fills the room, and memories of a secret relationship blossom within four walls that bear witness to a love seemingly known only to the two of them. And as the minutes tick by, and the mask of the boy with different-colored eyes slips down so he can kiss his boyfriend more comfortably, the world outside carries on.
A world that believes they hate each other, that they can’t stand each other, that treats them as if they were enemies for being part of the largest groups of their generation despite belonging to the same company, that mocks the achievements of the group they don’t like without knowing about the friendship between them, and especially, the close relationship between two of them.
Sakura lets out a sigh as Suo pulls away from his lips as best he can; he wants to continue, he wants to keep going, but they can’t when the alarm on his phone goes off.
They have to go back, and fast, if they don’t want any fan to realize Sakura’s there.
“Don’t go, Haruka.” He’s too close to his mouth, their breaths mingling and their noses brushing against each other. Suo is teasing him.
“We’ll see each other at home in a couple of minutes.” Sakura tries to pull away, but his boyfriend bites his lower lip; a moan threatens to escape, but he chooses to swallow it with a shaky breath. “Hayato, please.”
“I don’t think I can wait that long.”
“If I don’t leave now, you’ll be in trouble.”
“Haruka, please.” He lets out a weary sigh and accepts without complaint the wet kiss the other initiates, the movement of their tongues causing something to burn in Sakura’s stomach. But before it can grow any further, he pulls away as best he can.
“Suo, we’ll see each other soon, just wait a little longer.”
Suo lets out an annoyed snort and lets Sakura go from his lap. “Fine, just this once.”
“I’m free this week, so I’ll be waiting for you.” Sakura plants one last kiss on the boy’s forehead and walks away with a small smile. “I promise we’ll spend time together.”
“Are you sure?” Sakura nods, putting her mask and glasses back on.
“You’re going to get tired of having me around every day.”
“Never.
“Careful, Hayato, you’ll make me think I’m worth more than your dream of becoming an idol.”
Suo shrugs. “You know I gave up on that dream years ago. I’m here because of you.”
The memory of a conversation under the stars comes flooding back—the conversation from that day etched into a pair of earrings hanging on each side of the two of them. And the bottle of alcohol remains tucked away in some corner of the house they both secretly share.
The distant look from that night—a memory Suo seems to refuse to revisit—Sakura looks at him, and ruffles his hair again, just like the night when everything changed between them.
“Then don't make me wait too long, Romeo. See you soon.”
“I'm going to miss you.” Suo pouts, and Sakura simply waves goodbye with a quick gesture; the walls of the room surrounding him feel colder than he thought now that he is alone.
The world outside is still shining, and the audience is still excited, but Suo can only remember the eyes of a different color that watched him admiringly as he practiced in the living room of the home they share.
He fiddles with the earring on the right side of his face, and with a smile that screams fake remorse, he gets up as if nothing happened and heads toward the team waiting for him several rooms down the hall. There are scoldings, a bit of yelling, and chaos, but Suo doesn’t care.
Not when he has to run back into the arms of a boy who, just like him, misses him.