But in Your Eyes, the Light Still Shines

by Funuke

Summary:

All hell broke loose when the lead vocalist of Two Crosses was caught kissing his guitarist.

Shiki Week 2024: Day 1 (Alternate Universe | Eloping)

Akira stared at the image pulled up on his phone. There, in a blurry but still plain enough to see shot, was a photo of him and Shiki kissing. It was taken at night, but the light from a nearby streetlight was more than enough to illuminate their faces and hair.

It… couldn't be. Had they gotten found out? But when, and where?

His phone had been blowing up with texts since he woke up this morning. He hadn't been woken by the sounds since his phone was set to silent mode from the previous night, but on screen, his notification history was filled with messages from people. Namely, his manager and a few other contacts involved with the agency that the band was signed with.

Akira ignored those messages. He didn't want to deal with them just yet. Instead, he focused on discerning what was going on in the photo of him and Shiki kissing—besides the obvious.

The light in the photograph was dim. Whoever had taken this photo obviously left the flash off to avoid getting caught. It was a little fuzzy and unfocused, especially at the edges, but it was a shot that still managed to capture the subjects well enough for them to be identified.

Akira zoomed in on the photo. He could just barely make out the outfits he and Shiki were wearing. It took him a moment to recognize the clothes they were wearing, and then it didn't take him all that long to realize when this photo had been taken.

A week ago, on the same night their most recent concert had taken place. It must've been taken while he and Shiki were on their way back to the hotel after finishing the concert.

No wonder paparazzi had managed to snap a photo of them like this. He and Shiki had been too exhausted at the time to even care about the possibility of still being followed.

It had been their biggest and most anticipated concert yet. The crowd both during and after the show had been insane. Akira remembered camera flashes, hands darting out to touch him, autographs being shoved in his face, and the screams and shrieks of overly enthusiastic fans all around him. He'd just barely made it to the car unscathed with Shiki, and then it took probably another half hour of just trying to get the vehicle out of the venue and onto the road, because people were crazy enough to crowd around a car even when said vehicle was clearly trying to get the hell out of there. At one point someone even climbed onto the hood of the car, and that was when security really went into full force and formed a protective circle around the car. After pulling the person off, of course.

It had been a long and exhausting night. Akira almost passed out in the car during the drive back to their house, the adrenaline in his system dying down and leaving his body and mind sluggish. Compared to the loud screams of the thousands of fans outside, the quiet hum of the air conditioning in the car was like a lullaby, and the leather cushion of the passenger seat had felt as soft as a bed at the time.

The events leading up to the kiss were still vivid in Akira's memory, mostly because he remembered how bad of an idea it was. He and Shiki had just gotten out of the car a few blocks away from the hotel when Shiki suddenly started getting handsy with him. Apparently not being able to put his hands on Akira all day due to all the cameras and eyes on them had robbed him of any sense of rationality. It didn't help that he was still probably coming off that high from their concert.

Akira knew he should've put in more effort in prying Shiki off him. But that was difficult to do when Shiki's tongue was deep in his mouth, and his hands were around Akira's waist, keeping him pulled in. Plenty of time for someone to snap a photo—even if it was hastily taken—and then get out of there.

And fine, maybe Akira had been feeling it too after being pumped up with so much adrenaline for hours while performing live on stage, but it was Shiki's fault in the first place for not being able to keep his hands to himself. Now they had to deal with the press coming after them for this photo.

Akira pulled up a browser tab on his phone. He had to see for himself just how bad the damage was. On the search bar, he typed up the band's name and entered to see the results.

It was as bad as he'd expected.

Multiple articles were already uploaded about the photo. They all used the same scandalous image as the thumbnail, along with some attention-grabbing headlines attached. Akira checked out several of the articles. With each one he skimmed, he felt a twinge of annoyance rising in him, especially with the way some articles were wording their sentences.

It wasn't just that he and Shiki were kissing in the photo. The articles had to speculate about their sexualities, whether he and Shiki were in a relationship, and for how long if so. The media was hungry for an explanation, and it was willing to construct an entire narrative based on this single photo if it had to.

Akira let out a quiet sigh. It was going to be hard to deny that it was him and Shiki in the photo, he knew. They weren't wearing their sunglasses or masks, and Akira didn't doubt some of their more obsessive fans would try to analyze and cross check their faces with other photos to confirm that it was really them. Better to just come out and say it, at this point.

Akira continued to browse the web, trying to see if he could get any info on where this photo came from, when he suddenly felt a pair arms wrapping around him from behind, pulling him back in toward the center of the bed.

"What are you looking at?" a voice murmured. The breath that came out was soft and ticklish against Akira's ear. Even in the morning, that voice sounded smooth and not at all fogged with traces of sleep.

Akira glanced behind him. "Shiki…"

Shiki was finally awake. He was peering over Akira's shoulder, holding a cool gaze, only the slightest hint of sleepiness remaining in his eyes.

"We got found out," Akira said.

Shiki raised a brow at him in question.

"Look at this." He showed Shiki his phone. On the screen, there was a headline that read: Band Members Il Re and Lost From Two Crosses Caught Making Out.

"That's one of the more neutral-sounding headlines, by the way," Akira said when Shiki's eyes flicked away from the screen and back to him.

There was annoyance in Shiki's expression, but Akira couldn't tell if it was the 'mildly inconvenienced' kind or the 'someone is going to die' kind. Often, the boundary between the two was a very fine line for Shiki.

"How long has this been out for?" Shiki asked.

"A few hours now. I woke up to a bunch of texts and missed calls on my phone." Akira paused. "You should check yours too."

Shiki checked his phone upon being prompted to, and his expression turned into a glare. His annoyance was definitely leaning toward murderous now. Shiki didn't like it when he was spammed with texts and calls, which was why the only people allowed on his contacts list were Akira, their manager, and a few associates from the agency. Everyone else who tried to contact him would immediately get blocked.

Their manager must've sent him as many messages as he'd sent Akira. Or maybe not. Motomi was sensible enough to know that Shiki didn't tolerate unnecessary words.

"Are we gonna meet with Motomi about this?" Akira asked. "I don't think he wants to talk this out over text."

"Later," Shiki said, putting down his phone. He turned his attention back to Akira and pulled Akira into his arms.

Akira breathed a sigh and shifted his attention back to his phone. He rarely used his social media accounts but decided to check them for once. And then he soon realized he had severely, severely underestimated just how far the news of this scandal was spreading.

"Shiki."

"What?" His voice came out muffled because he was talking against Akira's hair.

"We're trending."

Over and over on his feed, Akira saw the same scandalous photo of him and Shiki kissing. It was apparently the number one topic trending, not just within Japan, but worldwide. According to the stats, thousands of posts had been made about the topic already, all within the span of a few hours ever since the photo was leaked. This was a new level of publicity that Akira had never even fathomed was possible, and if he had to be honest, it was a little hard to digest.

Shiki lifted his face from Akira's hair to see what he was talking about. His eyes expressed utter disdain toward the content on Akira's social media feed.

Shiki scoffed. "Idiots," he said.

Akira scrolled through the feed with growing unease. It wasn't like he was worried about him and Shiki getting targeted or harassed, but he did have to wonder what this meant for the future of the band. He and Shiki had spent years trying to make a name for themselves in the music industry. Would it all come crashing down now because of this one incident?

It was possible this scandal might do irreparable damage to the band's reputation. They would have a hard time getting booked for any future shows if that were the case. The agency they were signed with might outright drop them too—if the company hadn't decided to do that already—and then it was going to be hard to find another agency that was willing to pick them up.

Akira exhaled a faint sigh. He was about to keep scrolling through his social media feed to get more of an idea of just how bad things were when Shiki suddenly pulled his phone out of his hand.

"Stop thinking about it," Shiki said, holding Akira's phone out of reach.

"Oi." Akira frowned. "Give it back."

"No." Shiki put it on the nightstand behind him. Then he grabbed Akira by the jaw and said, "Look at me," before kissing him.

Akira's eyes widened at the sudden contact and he made a sound from the back of his throat. Shiki's tongue moved in his mouth, and his hand was cupping Akira's nape. It was a very soft, very slow kiss; different from the kind that Shiki would usually give him in the mornings.

Shiki often reminded him of a cat. Prickly, but also demanding of attention. Today Shiki's mood was evidently leaning toward the latter.

Settling into it, Akira closed his eyes, letting Shiki's tongue slide in his mouth deeper. There was a creak as Shiki shifted his weight on the mattress. He was hovering over Akira now. Shiki's tongue was warm and wet and slow in his mouth, and Akira was sure his tongue felt the same for Shiki.

Akira felt the mattress dipping beneath him while he was pinned under Shiki's weight. When Shiki's mouth finally pulled away, Akira was a little breathless.

His lips felt wet and it lingered with the warmth of Shiki's lips. Shiki, meanwhile, looked sated and sure of himself and completely unperturbed as he got up from the bed.

"I'm going to shower," Shiki said. He grabbed a set of clothes and then left to go to the bathroom.

Akira lingered in bed, reaching over to grab his phone off the nightstand where Shiki had put it earlier. He finally looked over all the messages he got. Mostly, they were concerned and confused messages from various people that he worked with. He gave a quick response to some of them—something along the lines of vague acknowledgement rather than an actual reply. Akira didn't have time to reply to all the messages, and he didn't care to. He did make sure to let Motomi know, though, that he and Shiki were going to be coming to the company building later to discuss the scandal in person.

Akira set his phone down after that, feeling a vague sense of listlessness. They were going to have to address the scandal sooner or later. He'd already seen what was happening on the web; he didn't need any more evidence that it was going to be impossible to sweep this under the rug. Shiki didn't seem concerned despite the band's reputation and their careers being in jeopardy but—when was he ever concerned about anything?

Akira exhaled and laid his elbow across his forehead. He focused on the ambient whir of the air conditioner that was running. It was summertime, but the heat was kept at bay with the air conditioner in the room. It was the quiet kind; the kind that barely made itself known with a low hum. The one at their previous place had been noisy and blasted air as loud as a fan, and had also been terrible and inefficient at actually regulating the temperature. Akira wouldn't say he missed it.

The curtains in the room were closed, so the room was shaded, but the morning light managed to filter in anyway through the gaps at the side. It was late in the morning. He and Shiki typically woke up around this time, sometimes even during the afternoon, since they usually got home late after their performances. A nocturnal schedule was simply better suited for their lifestyle.

Akira finally got up from the bed when Shiki came back from his shower. It was his turn to shower now. He and Shiki hadn't exactly cleaned up after last night; instead, they'd fallen asleep shortly afterward. They were still trying to catch up on some sleep after returning home from their tour last week.

In the bathroom, Akira glanced at himself in the mirror as he undressed. He furrowed his brows, his hand coming up to his clavicle. Shiki had left more bite marks from last night. They were on his collarbone, on his shoulders, probably even on his shoulder blades, too. He forced himself to look away from the mirror and finished undressing.

In the shower, Akira let the hot stream of water run down his skin, watching as steam rose and clouded the bathroom in a misty white. His gaze was unfocused on the wall in front of him. All he could think about was the photo and the news of him and Shiki blowing up on the internet.

Akira didn't know how to feel about it. He felt a strange mix of annoyance and resignation toward all the attention that was suddenly on him and Shiki. They were probably going to have to deal with even more weird fan mail for a while.

After Akira decided he'd been in the shower long enough, he turned off the water and got out. The mirror was fogged up because of all the steam, and the walls of the bathroom looked soft and hazy. He dried himself and put on a fresh pair of clothes, then walked back to the bedroom.

Akira entered the room and found Shiki all dressed up and in the middle of doing his makeup. Shiki was applying something to his eyes, although Akira didn't know what the term for it was. Unlike Shiki, he didn't care about this type of stuff.

While he was waiting for Shiki to finish up, Akira leaned against the wall by the door and checked his phone. He'd received a few more messages from Motomi since Akira last replied to him. As their band manager, Motomi was apparently trying to figure something out with the record company while the scandal continued to spread all over the news. Akira didn't really know how to respond aside from just letting Motomi know that he and Shiki would meet up with him soon to discuss what to do.

Shiki spent a few more minutes doing his makeup in front of the vanity dresser, and then he got up. Akira glanced over at him, taking in his appearance. Shiki was wearing a short-sleeve, cropped leather jacket over a t-shirt and some jeans. Typical. Even when it was summer, he had to wear all black with leather in there somewhere. It was part of his style. There were silver layered chains hanging from the belt he was wearing, and of course he never went out without his cross necklaces.

"What are you doing just standing there?" Shiki said, as if he wasn't the one who'd been holding them up this whole time. He walked past Akira. "Let's go."

Akira's lips drew into a slight frown. "I was the one who had to wait for you," he replied as he slipped his phone into his pocket and followed Shiki, but he let his indignation pass. He was used to Shiki's overbearing nature by now.

At the entrance of their house, they put their shoes on, but just before they opened the front door, Shiki turned around and grabbed Akira's face.

Akira knew what was coming so his expression didn't shift into surprise, but rather disgruntlement. "Hey, we're already—"

Whatever he had to say was muffled by Shiki's mouth. Akira's voice softened into a low note in his throat. Shiki's tongue was warm and deep in his mouth, and Akira found his breath stalling for just a moment, too focused on the taste and wet sensation of Shiki's tongue in his mouth. Shiki didn't let up for what seemed like several long seconds, his hands cradling Akira's face with a firm grip.

When Shiki finally pulled away, Akira's breaths spilled out in low pants. His head felt stuffy. He could feel Shiki's breaths against his own, hot and also slightly uneven, but Shiki lifted his head away and turned around before Akira could even fully realize that the kiss was already over.

"We'll get some coffee and breakfast along the way," Shiki said, opening the front door.

Akira huffed. His lips were still warm. "Fine."

They made it two steps out the door until Shiki stopped and Akira suddenly bumped into him.

"Shiki?" Akira spoke against his back.

Shiki grabbed hold of Akira's arm. "They're here." He sounded on guard. His grip was firm on Akira's arm.

"Who?"

Shiki didn't have to answer him, because Akira saw for himself. There were a bunch of people having a stakeout in front of their house.

People with cameras.

They made a run for it to the car. Akira heard the clicks of cameras going off behind them and footsteps running after them. The paparazzi hounded him and Shiki, desperate and determined to snap whatever shots they could.

Paparazzi weren't legally allowed to touch them unless they wanted to get charged for harassment, but they sure as hell were allowed to get up as close as possible to take a bunch of pictures. White flashes filled his view and Akira had to duck his head to avoid getting blinded by them. Shiki was leading him by the arm as they ran.

Shiki ordered him to get in the car, and Akira didn't have to be told twice. Shiki got into the driver's seat while Akira abruptly slid into the car from the passenger side. They slammed the car doors shut and Akira didn't even have time to put on his seatbelt before Shiki was driving off. Shiki managed to swerve around someone that tried to get one last shot in—although that didn't stop the camera flashes from going off.

Akira took a moment to catch his breath as his mind tried to process what just happened. His limbs were tense as he sat in the car. He cast a glance behind to check the scene. The paparazzi were still pursuing them with their cameras, but they stopped once the car reached the end of the street and was too far out of reach. Akira blinked as he turned his head to face the front again.

"…So we're going to have to deal with that now," Akira said, disbelief evident in his tone.

"Probably." Shiki didn't look fazed, but his expression did look tight with a mix of disdain and annoyance as he stared ahead at the road.

It was bad enough at concerts and shows already, but now they had to deal with paparazzi chasing them when they were just trying to go about their day? Akira loosened his posture against the car seat. He was sweating a bit and his skin was warm from the adrenaline pumping through him. Then he finally realized how stuffy and hot the car was when his thoughts cleared up a moment later, and Akira reached to turn on the air conditioner.

"Put some music on," Shiki said as soon as the noisy air conditioning disrupted the silence in the car. Akira put on their playlist, and he turned the volume of the music up enough for it to mask the sound of the air conditioner.

…It was going to be a long day, probably. And they were already starting the day late.

 

✝

♱

 

In the car, Akira was slumped in his seat with his head leaned toward the window as he gazed outside. It smelled of whatever air freshener Shiki usually sprayed the interior of the car with—something light but earthy—and the leather was firm yet cushiony against Akira's back. The car was completely cool from the cold air that was blasting from the air conditioner.

Music was playing through the speakers, the heavy and distorted guitar riffs of the song that was currently playing drowning out the low hum of the air conditioning. This genre of music was what he and Shiki were most comfortable listening to, despite how loud and raw and gritty it sounded.

Akira had been texting Motomi on his phone and telling him what happened when he and Shiki had left the house earlier. Motomi, in turn, had relayed information on how things were going on his end with the agency, and he also gave a warning that things were only going to get even more rough for Akira and Shiki from here on. The media was still in the stage of trying to milk the news as much as possible.

Motomi couldn't really give an estimate on how long this would last until it finally blew over, but it wasn't like Akira was expecting any of them to be able to predict how long this would last. After all, it wasn't like any of them had predicted that a scandal about him and Shiki would pop up just a week after they finished one of their biggest tours.

"Motomi says that paparazzi are going to be following us for a while," Akira said. "There’s already a few of them waiting and hiding out in front of the company building."

Shiki scoffed. "Those idiots have nothing better to do."

"That's how they make their living, I guess," he said, looking away from his phone. He leaned his head against the glass window. "They'll do anything to get a good photo and sell it for profit."

Shiki didn't dignify that statement with a response. Instead he just focused on driving the car. They were still on their way to the Vischio Records building, but first, they had to grab some food since they hadn't eaten anything all morning. They stopped by a Stardogs drive-through, and Shiki ordered a single black coffee while Akira ordered a latte and a sandwich.

"You're not going to eat anything?" Akira asked as Shiki drove the car up to the window to pay for the order.

"Not hungry," was Shiki's response.

Akira didn't say anything else. He was more or less used to Shiki's eating habits by now. Sometimes Shiki skipped meals because he didn't have much of an appetite. Maybe that was why he had such a lean figure. But he still managed to maintain some muscle definition, somehow.

When they reached the window, the employee did a double take.

Maybe she recognized who they were, or she was stunned by Shiki's looks. It wouldn't be the first time people stopped to stare at Shiki. If Shiki hadn't decided to take the path of being a rockstar, he probably would've landed himself with a modeling career instead.

The employee finally accepted the card Shiki was holding up after realizing that she was keeping them waiting. She looked flustered as she quickly scanned the card before handing it back to Shiki, and then she passed them their coffees and sandwich through the small gap between the drive-through window and the car. Shiki handed Akira his latte and the brown paper bag containing his sandwich, which also had a couple of napkins stashed inside.

"Thanks," Akira said.

The employee told them to have a nice day, and Shiki rolled up the car window without acknowledging her as he drove the car forward.

"Think she recognized us?" Akira asked once they were out of the drive-through.

"Who knows. She didn't say anything."

"She told us to have a nice day," Akira corrected. There were drops of condensation on the plastic cup he was holding. He poked a green straw through the opening of the cup lid and took a sip of his latte. It was cold and somewhat bitter, but in a refreshing way. He didn't like things that were too sweet, but he couldn't handle straight black coffee the way Shiki did either.

Shiki drank his coffee without even the slightest shift in his expression. They started up the music again, and Akira drank a few more sips of his coffee before putting it in one of the cup holders. Then he reached for the sandwich inside the bag on his lap.

It was still warm from being heated up. Akira caught a whiff of the bacon and cheese and egg combo layered in between the bread as he took a bite into it.

The sandwich didn't taste bad, but it was nothing amazing either, which was to be expected considering it was from Stardogs. Akira leaned back into the car seat and looked out the side window as he ate, watching as the buildings and streets and trees whizzed by. The caffeine started to kick in and his mind buzzed with energy, eyes feeling less heavy than before. That also meant his appetite wasn't as pronounced anymore, and Akira was left staring at his half-eaten sandwich.

Akira wiped his mouth with a napkin, and then held the sandwich out to Shiki. "Here."

Shiki glanced briefly at the sandwich before looking back to the road. "What?"

"I'm not hungry anymore. You can have the rest." Akira paused. "It's still warm," he added, though he doubted it would make any difference in making Shiki want to eat it.

"My hands are busy right now," Shiki replied.

Akira gave Shiki a dubious look. "…What does that have to do with this?" He didn't see why Shiki couldn't just eat with one hand while keeping the other on the steering wheel. Shiki sure didn't seem to have a problem occasionally picking up his cup of coffee to take a sip from it while driving.

"If you want me to eat that, you'll have to feed me," Shiki said.

Akira was stunned for a few seconds. When his jaw was able to work again, he replied, "I'm not doing that."

"Then throw it away."

Akira felt a twitch of irritation in his brow. "…I'm not doing that either."

"Is it really so difficult to feed me?" Shiki asked, but he didn't sound inconvenienced by this whole conversation. Instead he sounded like he was testing Akira—and enjoying it.

Akira's gaze was harsh on him. Shiki was doing this on purpose.

Akira huffed. He considered taking the sandwich back and just eating the rest of it, but that felt like admitting defeat, and he definitely wasn't in the mood to quell his appetite anymore.

Akira breathed out a sigh, calming his nerves, and then he said, "…Just this once." He awkwardly lifted the sandwich up to Shiki's mouth.

He caught the smirk in Shiki's lips as Shiki opened his mouth around the sandwich to bite into it. Akira was sorely tempted to take the sandwich away and just finish it himself like how he originally intended, but Shiki had already bitten into it, and Akira had a feeling Shiki would just see it as a win if Akira succumbed to his irritation.

Akira looked away. He focused on the lyrics of the song that was currently playing to keep his thoughts preoccupied. Anything to keep his mind off the weird sensation of Shiki eating from his hand. It was like feeding an animal that usually acted feral, but was currently acting tame. Or that was what Akira thought it felt like. He didn't have to worry about Shiki biting his hand, did he? (He definitely had to worry about Shiki biting him and marking him in other places, though.)

Akira glanced back when he noticed the sandwich he'd been holding was all gone except for the wrapper. Akira casually crumpled it in his hand. Shiki was still chewing, somehow managing to not look like an ordinary person even when he was doing something so mundane as eating. He swallowed the last bite down before glancing over to meet Akira's gaze, and that was when Akira realized he was still holding the crumpled wrapper in his hand. He stuffed it into the paper bag.

Akira grabbed a napkin from the bag and held it in Shiki's direction. "I'm not wiping your mouth for you," he said firmly before Shiki could even think to try and goad him into doing something like that.

This time, Shiki didn't say anything, and he took the napkin and wiped his mouth with it.

Akira spent the rest of the car ride sipping on his latte and staring out the side window.

 

✝

♱

 

Shiki parked the car just outside the front of the Vischio Records building. Akira turned his head around, glancing at their surroundings through the car windows.

"Do we have the shades?" Akira asked. He already saw signs of paparazzi waiting for them.

"In the bag."

Akira got out a pair of sunglasses, and then handed Shiki another pair that was in the bag. They both put on their sunglasses and got out of the car.

The instant they stepped out, there was a swarm of paparazzi around them. Several camera shutters went off per second, clicking noisily. There was no concept of personal space.

Akira clenched his jaw. Usually he was able to brush off all the attention and noise, but today he was feeling particularly annoyed. He expected cameras at concerts and shows; not out on the street when he was just trying to get to his destination. It would help if they weren't blocking the way to the entrance building, but of course they were. They wanted to take pictures of his and Shiki's faces.

"Il Re! Lost! Look over here!" Snap. Click.

Il Re and Lost were Shiki's and Akira’s stage names, respectively. Photographers were trying to get their attention by calling their stage names over and over, throwing a bunch of nosy questions in, too.

"Can you clarify what's the relationship between you two?"

"Any comments about the photo that was leaked this morning?"

"Is it true that you two are dating each other?"

Akira heard all that and other invasive questions pertaining to his and Shiki's personal lives. He and Shiki stayed silent as they waded through the crowd of paparazzi. Shiki's hand was firm around his wrist as he led Akira in the direction of the building.

Once they reached the entrance of the building, they were finally able to get away from the paparazzi. The security guards at the entrance blocked the paparazzi from taking a step inside the building after them, but still, the camera flashes and shuttering sounds and demands for answers didn't stop. Akira and Shiki were quickly ushered toward the elevator, and only once they were inside and the elevator doors closed did Akira feel like he could finally take a breather.

Shiki pushed the button to go up to the 5th floor. Akira took off his sunglasses and stuffed them in his pocket while Shiki lifted his own to rest on his head. The elevator ride was a short one since it didn't have to make any stops to let on anyone else, and soon the elevator stopped and dinged on the 5th floor, opening its doors. They walked out into the hall.

Akira didn't know what it was about this place that made his guard instinctively go up whenever he came here. The floor was covered in a red carpet, and large glass windows spanned across the length of the wall on one side. But all that was innocuous enough. What really made this place feel off were the statues.

Akira didn't know why the interior of an office building for a music company was decorated with marble statues and Renaissance paintings of all things. It made this place seem more like a gallery that was hosting someone's personal art collection rather than the office building it was.

They walked down the hall, just in time to see Motomi and the CEO of Vischio Records—Arbitro, if Akira remembered correctly, because he'd never been good with names—walking out one of the conference rooms.

Akira had only met the CEO a few times before, but the man was as strange as Akira remembered. He wore a white mask around his eyes, and he had a pink feather boa draped around his shoulders. The only thing about his appearance that could even be considered relatively normal was the white suit he was wearing, but even that was stretching it. Looking at this guy though, Akira could somehow see the connection between this man's fashion taste and the gaudy interior design of the company building. He was definitely the person who ran this place.

Behind Arbitro, there were two security guards dressed in formal suits. They were also wearing white masks around their eyes, same as their boss. Akira couldn't say he envied their position.

Motomi and Arbitro noticed Akira and Shiki's presence in the hall.

"…Gentlemen," Arbitro said with a slow nod of his head in their direction. "I do hope this matter can be resolved quickly. Otherwise…" His eyes narrowed slightly, and there was a displeased twitch in his lips.

Arbito smoothed the fabric of his suit with a gloved hand. "Well, let's save that discussion for if it becomes necessary. Now, please pardon me. I have more pressing matters to attend to." He turned around and walked off with his two guards behind him. At the end of the hall, he entered an elevator with his guards.

"He's pissed," Motomi said once Arbitro was out of earshot. He had his blazer folded and tucked over his arm and was holding a box of cigarettes in his hand. There was a no smoking sign nearby and that was probably the only thing stopping him from lighting a cigarette.

"That much was obvious," Akira replied. Then he gave Motomi a glance over, noticing the disheveled state of his clothes. And the fact that he was itching for a smoke… "You don't look like you're doing too well, either."

"Damn right. Had to deal with a bunch of crap this morning with the PR team. I told them not to make a statement for now until I sorted things out with Arbitro." He sighed and fiddled with the box of cigarettes in his hand absentmindedly. "Good news though is that I managed to convince him not to drop you from the label."

"What did you two talk about?" Shiki asked, or more like demanded to know.

"So here's the gist of it. Arbitro's pissed off about this scandal that you two are in and wants to cut ties, but I told him to wait it out and see what happens. See, ever since that photo of you two got leaked this morning, you've both been trending all over the internet."

"And?" Shiki said, his tone pointed, sounding clearly impatient. "We know that already."

"And sales on albums and tickets have actually gone up. People are talking, but it's not all negative. They're actually interested in what kind of relationship you two have." Motomi paused, seemingly dragging out the silence before saying his actual thoughts. "I'm saying we can use this to our advantage and turn this into a publicity stunt."

"A publicity stunt?" Akira asked.

"Yeah. I mean, you two are dating, right?"

There was a long silence that followed. Neither he nor Shiki answered.

Akira didn't know how to respond to that question. It wasn't like they'd ever put a label to the relationship they had. They were just… together.

Motomi frowned and scratched his head. "Well, whatever kind of relationship you two have, it would be a pain in the ass if you had to constantly hide it. Trust me, I've seen how it's worked out in other bands before. Always worrying about whether there's a camera around, not being able to act how you really want to around each other in public." Motomi exhaled. "Sometimes you're not even allowed to date, just so the fans can keep up this fantasy of feeling like they have a chance.

"Of course, if you two choose to disband, then this will all blow over and the media will stop talking about you two sooner rather than later."

Shiki's gaze narrowed on him. "We're not disbanding," he said, his tone leaving no room for disagreement.

"…Right. I figured that's not what you want to do. All I'm saying is that you two should think about where you want to go from here. Do you want to keep up your band activities, knowing that whatever you do in your career, people will always be talking about your relationship first and foremost?"

Motomi's face slipped into a serious expression. "I'm not saying you two can't handle the pressure. You're already reacting to the scandal and this news a lot better than I expected. But I still want you to think about your future and whether or not this is the path you want to take," Motomi said. "In the meantime, all your gigs booked for this month and the next have been canceled. Arbitro's demands, not mine. It's part of the compromise. He wants you two out of the spotlight until things settle down and the media stops making such a fuss over things."

"So he's forcing us to go on hiatus," Akira said, reading the implication behind Motomi's words.

"Yup. But that's not all." Motomi grinned, and for the first time since this conversation started, he genuinely seemed happy to be delivering whatever news he had. "You two are going on vacation."

"A vacation…?" Akira couldn't remember the last time he ever went on one. The only times he ever got out of this city was when the band went on tour.

Shiki had nothing to say, but his expression conveyed obvious discontentment.

"…Come on, I tell you guys that you're going on vacation, and this is the kind of reaction you have?" Motomi shook his head. "You're not going to have many opportunities for a break, especially at this stage of your life. Might as well take it easy while you can. You don't wanna end up being a burnt out old man like me in the future," Motomi joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Akira looked at him with a deadpan expression. "Ossan, what's this all about?"

"Alright, alright, I'll explain." Motomi looked to be in a good mood still as he delivered the information. "You guys are going to be staying at a resort in a coastal city. Toshima—ever heard of it?" Akira shook his head while Shiki kept silent. "Well it's this remote city located in the south of Japan. It just opened up to tourists a few years back. I heard it's got a great view of the ocean, and since it's not really well known as a tourist spot, you won't encounter a lot of paparazzi there. Everything's paid for by Vischio Records, so you don't have to worry about the cost of lodging or flight and food expenses, either."

Akira sighed. "You sure that CEO guy isn't just trying to get rid of us quietly?" It all sounded like a 'too good to be true' type of deal where everything was actually a scam. He wouldn't be surprised if he and Shiki somehow ended up dead in a ditch somewhere.

"Arbitro might seem a little… shady," Motomi winced as he said it, probably aware that 'shady' was an understatement, "but he's always been obsessed about building the company's fame and legacy. I know him from way back, so I have a bit of insight into how his mind works. He's upset about the scandal because of the effects it might have on the company's reputation, but when I told him we could turn it into a publicity stunt instead and showed him how our revenue has been increasing ever since that photo dropped, he agreed to come to a compromise.

"Besides, I'm the one who arranged your flights and lodging, so you don't have to worry about things going wrong," Motomi said.

That did admittedly make Akira feel more reassured about the whole situation, but he wouldn't say that out loud.

"You're going to be staying at the resort for a month," Motomi continued. "Take this time to carefully think over what you want to do with the band, and give me your answer when you come back. This vacation is meant to help you get away from all the pressure so you can think about what you really want to do."

"When are we leaving?" Shiki asked.

"It's a bit of a short notice, but you'll be leaving tomorrow, so I suggest you go home and start packing. I'll be coming to pick you up in the afternoon tomorrow to take you to the airport. Oh, and I've already sent the details by email. You can text me if anything comes up or if you have questions."

Shiki didn't say anything more on the matter, but his irritation showed on his face. He grabbed Akira's arm. "Let's go," he said to Akira.

Akira cast one last glance at Motomi, who just shrugged at him. Then Akira walked with Shiki down the hall back in the direction where they came from.

 

✝

♱

 

As soon as they took one step out of the company building, they were bombarded with cameras. Apparently there were even more paparazzi here to take photos of them after word got around about their current location. Shiki already had his sunglasses on, covering his eyes from the bright flashes, and Akira quickly slipped them on.

It was a battle just to get to the car. Security had to step in and help by pushing back the wave of paparazzi and forming a protective circle around them. Shiki stepped around the car to get into the driver's seat, while Akira entered from the passenger side, and once they were both in and the doors were shut, the noise outside was immediately muffled.

It took a while to break through the crowd of paparazzi, but with the help of security, they managed to get through.

The car ride back to their house was uneventful to say the least. Neither of them said anything, but there was music playing, so it wasn't completely silent in the car. Akira used this time to check his inbox on his phone for the details that Motomi sent.

There were multiple emails—one for the flight, another for the resort stay. Both of them were confirmation emails that contained details about the dates. Then there was an email from Motomi himself. It was mostly just him explaining the process of how he and Shiki were going to get to the airport, and then how they were going to get to the resort after they got off the jet.

When they reached their house, there was still paparazzi outside, but not as much as this morning. Akira and Shiki got out of the car and hurried to the front door, ignoring the cameras and rapid fire questions. The cameras shuttered nonstop, but at least the paparazzi were smart enough to not approach the front door, unless they wanted to be charged for trespassing. Once Akira and Shiki were both inside, Shiki slammed the front door shut, and then finally, they had some semblance of privacy again.

Akira glanced back at the door. "How long do you think they'll follow us for?"

"Who knows," Shiki replied, revealing none of his emotions. He began going up the stairs.

Akira frowned at the noncommittal response, but in a way, it was reassuring that Shiki was his usual unbothered self.

Akira followed Shiki upstairs. They entered the bedroom and Shiki pulled out two suitcases from their closet. Usually these suitcases were used for when they were going on tour, but in this case, it was for a vacation that they were going on against their will.

They spent the rest of the afternoon packing their bags. Akira figured he should pack some lighter and looser clothes. The season was right in the middle of summer when the weather was at its driest and the heat was at its hottest. He ended up packing tees, tanks, jeans, and shorts into his suitcase.

Akira glanced over at Shiki to see what he was doing. Shiki wasn't packing his usual designer clothes, surprisingly, but there were a bunch of plain black clothes going in his suitcase. Which were probably technically still designer, but more understated in terms of appearance at least.

They packed toiletries and whatever else they figured was essential for this month-long trip. They were used to packing stuff up from when they had to go on tours, so it didn't take long to figure out and find what they needed. By the time they were done, it was just the start of evening.

Akira zipped up his stuffed suitcase. On the bed was a duffel bag that he'd also packed for the flight. Akira double-checked the contents to confirm that he had everything he needed. Travel documents, wallet, headphones, keys, laptop, charging cables, and sunglasses. He didn't see anything missing. The flight itself was only going to be three hours long, so he didn't need to carry that much with him. Akira placed the duffel bag on top of the suitcase.

The last thing he needed to take with him alongside his luggage was a guitar. Akira picked up one of his acoustic guitars from its stand and packed it in a case. Shiki seemed to have the same idea, because he already had a guitar packed in a case and placed next to his luggage. Normally they would be bringing a lot more equipment with them, which was the case whenever they went on tour, but Akira doubted they would be doing any recording or rehearsal sessions while staying at the resort, let alone do any shows.

Akira lay down on the bed afterward and exhaled, feeling some of the tension seep out of him. His appetite was starting to kick in. He'd only had that sandwich to eat this morning, which he'd only eaten half of. And then he'd spent most of the afternoon packing his stuff up with Shiki, so it was about time he got some food in his stomach.

Akira sat up and pulled out his phone from his pocket.

"Shiki," he said. Shiki turned his head to look at him. "I'm going to order some food in. What do you want?"

"Don't bother," Shiki said.

Akira made a face at him. "Don't bother ordering food, or don't bother getting you something to eat?"

"Ordering food. They're probably still outside."

Right. The paparazzi. Akira didn't want to have to deal with opening the door to grab the food. Because if he did, he might see himself in the headline tomorrow with an article written about him doing something as ordinary and innocuous as getting food delivered to his house. Because apparently, if you were famous, everything you did was worth talking about.

"What do we do then?" Akira asked.

Shiki didn't immediately respond. But then he said, "…I'll make something."

Akira almost didn't hear him over the hum of the air conditioner in the room. Shiki left the bedroom while Akira remained sitting on the bed. With nothing better to do, Akira decided to browse the web on his phone and see what else the media was saying about them.

He noticed a few new articles, and there were multiple pictures of him and Shiki, taken from various views and angles, of when they'd been outside today. The articles themselves had nothing substantial; just a bunch of bullshit speculations about his and Shiki's relationship and the future of the band. There was only one statement released by the PR team so far, and it was apparently an announcement about the band going on hiatus.

All in all, it looked pretty bad.

Akira put down his phone with a sigh, and instead he picked up one of his guitars to play and help pass the time while he waited for Shiki. He strummed the guitar without a specific tune in his mind at first, but then he found himself playing a song from their latest album. Akira knew the lyrics but didn't bother to sing along; that was Shiki's part whenever they played, and Akira didn't feel nearly as connected with the lyrics as he did with the notes, especially since he was the one who'd composed the instrumental.

Shiki came to the bedroom a while later to tell him that dinner was ready. Akira got up from the bed and set the guitar down on its stand. He followed Shiki into the living room where food was already plated on the table. Akira sat down at the table across from Shiki.

Dinner was steak with a side of rice and vegetables. Akira could smell the aroma of the meat and he was suddenly aware of how empty his stomach was. He said his thanks for the meal and picked up the silverware.

The first bite of the steak was overwhelmingly good, and it probably tasted even better because of how hungry he was. The meat was tender and juicy. Akira ate maybe a bit too quickly because half the steak was already gone in minutes.

It always came as a surprise to him how… competent Shiki was at cooking. Shiki honestly didn't seem like the type. He was good at singing, cooking, and playing the guitar. It almost seemed like there was nothing he wasn't good at.

Akira could play the guitar and maybe sing if the song called for backup vocals, but he had no talent when it came to cooking. It was for that reason that Shiki was the one who cooked all their meals. In fact, Shiki had explicitly banned Akira from ever cooking in the kitchen without his direct supervision after Akira had burned a pot so badly one time that it needed to be thrown out and replaced. No amount of scrubbing could save the charred bottom of the pot.

They finished dinner and Akira washed the dishes. If he wasn't the one who did the cooking, then it only made sense that he was the one who did the dishes. Akira had no complaints about that. He and Shiki never really argued about splitting the housework. Whatever that needed to be done, would just get done.

After he finished doing the dishes, he went back upstairs to the bedroom. Shiki was sitting in a chair with headphones on and playing something on his guitar—probably getting his daily practice in. He looked focused, so Akira didn't try to disturb him, and instead he just quietly made his way over to the bed and put on his own headphones. They were noise canceling, so the sound from Shiki's playing didn't leak in too much.

Akira got out his laptop from his duffle bag. He opened a program on it and decided to mess around with some samples that he'd been working on. He wasn't really able to get anything going though. It wasn't like he and Shiki had to get started on their next album, especially since they were technically on hiatus, but Akira just felt like seeing what he could come up with.

By the time Shiki was done with his practice session, it was around 10 p.m. Shiki took off his headphones and put his guitar away. Then he came to sit next to Akira on the bed, and Akira pulled down his headphones to his neck.

"What are you working on?" Shiki asked.

"Just trying to come up with some stuff," Akira said. "Want to take a listen?" He felt like he needed some feedback anyway.

Shiki nodded. "Let me hear."

Akira passed him the headphones and Shiki put them on. He listened to the samples. His expression didn't change the whole time, so Akira couldn't gauge his thoughts. When Shiki was done listening, he took off the headphones.

"You can do better than this," Shiki said.

So Shiki didn't like them either. "I figured you'd say that." Akira took back the headphones.

Shiki was always blunt with his feedback, but Akira was the same way. He never held back in telling Shiki what he thought about the lyrics Shiki came up with. That was how they worked together.

Akira saved the files that were open before clicking out of the program. Just as he closed his laptop, a hand came around him, pulling him in close by the shoulder, and then he felt Shiki's lips on his hair.

"It's not bad," Shiki said. "But it's not your best."

Akira looked up at him, surprised. But then he leaned his face into Shiki's neck. "…I know."

They stayed like that for a while. Akira breathed in Shiki's scent while he rested his face against the crook of his neck. Akira didn't know how to describe the faint yet distinct aroma that his nose was picking up. He didn't know if it was a cologne that Shiki wore or what. To him, it was just… Shiki.

Akira eventually turned away and reached over to put his laptop on a nearby dresser. But just as he was about to get up from the bed, he felt Shiki pulling him in close again. Akira glanced back at him, wondering what he wanted.

He didn't need to wonder for long, because the moment his head was fully turned in Shiki's direction, he felt Shiki's lips on his own. Akira tensed for a moment but relaxed right after when he felt Shiki's hand squeezing his shoulder. He closed his eyes as Shiki's other hand came up to his face.

Akira's breath deepened a little and he grabbed onto the front of Shiki's shirt. Shiki's hand was at the back of his neck now, cupping it, while Akira tilted his head up, deepening the kiss at this angle.

Shiki's hand had slid down from Akira's shoulder to the front of his waist sometime during the kiss. Akira felt Shiki's hand roaming across his body, his touch warm even through the fabric of Akira's clothes. Eventually Shiki leaned his weight against him so that Akira fell backward onto the bed.

Akira's breath was heavy and his skin felt warm. He was just barely keeping Shiki back with a hand on his chest as Shiki hovered over him.

"…What are you doing?" Akira asked.

"Isn't it obvious?"

Akira didn't really have an excuse to stop Shiki. He could say that they had to get up early for their flight tomorrow, but they actually didn't; the private jet would leave whenever they were ready.

Akira lifted his hand away from Shiki's chest and instead wrapped his arms around him. Shiki dipped his head to kiss him again. There was no more space left between them.

 

✝

♱

 

Akira felt a hand softly patting his face over and over. He made a disgruntled sound and turned away from it, placing his cheek against the pillow. The patting stopped, and Akira was about to slip into a deep sleep again, his breathing slowing down, but then something much worse happened.

He felt a mouth biting his neck.

Akira's eyes shot open and he turned his head around.

"Finally awake?" Shiki asked. There was a smirk on his lips.

"I told you not to do that," Akira grumbled, covering his hand with his neck. He didn't particularly care where Shiki marked him; trying to stop him was a futile endeavor, as Akira had learned in the past, but his neck was off limits. He didn't want to have to end up wearing turtlenecks like Shiki just to cover up the bite marks.

"You wouldn't get up," Shiki said.

"Well I'm up now," Akira retorted.

"Good," Shiki said. "Get dressed. Our ride should be here in an hour and a half."

Akira grunted in acknowledgment. He glanced around with bleary eyes, looking for his phone, and when he found it, he checked the time. It was apparently eleven in the morning.

Akira went into the bathroom to take a shower, and he washed his hair while he was at it. The hot water helped to loosen some of the tension in his muscles. After he got out of the shower, he wiped the fogged up mirror and checked himself for a mark on his neck, but he didn't see anything. Shiki must've not bitten him that hard. Akira ruffled his wet hair with a towel and left the bathroom.

Shiki was already dressed by the time Akira entered the bedroom again. While Shiki was busy doing his makeup, Akira blow dried his hair. When his hair got to the state where it was no longer damp but not completely dry either, Akira decided it was good enough and changed his clothes.

The two of them checked around the house to make sure everything was turned off, and then they double-checked their bags. By the time they were ready to leave, it was about half past noon. Motomi didn't show up to pick them up until about twenty minutes later, with a notification popping up on Shiki's phone.

Shiki looked out the window, confirming that the vehicle he saw was their ride. But apparently there were paparazzi outside too.

"They're still at it?" Akira asked. He wondered if paparazzi had stayed there the whole night, just waiting for an opportunity to get a picture of him, or Shiki, or both of them together. They were probably hoping for photos of the third instance the most.

"Looks like it." Shiki got out his shades.

Akira got his sunglasses out and put them on too. They opened the front door, carrying their luggage with them while their guitars were slung across their back. It didn't take long for paparazzi to crowd around them from all sides, shoving a bunch of cameras in their faces. A flash went off every millisecond and camera shutters clicked one after another.

In the midst of this onslaught, Akira managed to peer through the crowd and make out Motomi coming out of the car and heading their way. Akira and Shiki gradually got through the moving wave of paparazzi, and then Motomi was there taking their bags and putting them inside the trunk of the car. He saw Motomi saying something, but Akira couldn't really hear him over the shouts and voices all around from paparazzi trying to get his attention.

The car door slid open and Motomi ushered them in with a frantic gesture of his hand. Akira and Shiki got inside the car, and then Motomi went around to get into the driver's seat.

After shutting the car door, Motomi sighed. "We really need to get you two security. Didn't expect it to be this bad."

"They've been there since yesterday," Akira said.

"Sounds about right. That's usually how this sort of stuff goes." Motomi started up the car and motioned with his hand for the people standing nearby to get out of the way. It took a few minutes as the car slowly moved forward, but soon enough they were on the road without any obstacles blocking the way, and the car picked up speed.

"So," Motomi said, "are you two excited for your vacation?"

Akira folded his arms and leaned back into the car seat. "We don't even know what we're supposed to do there," he replied flatly, maybe even a little more snarky than he intended. He was irritated from dealing with the paparazzi.

"Oh, well, I heard the resort has a nice beach." He wasn't put off by the tense mood at all. "You ever been to the ocean, Akira?"

"No."

"What about you, Shiki?"

"…A few times."

Motomi hummed. Akira was a little surprised that Shiki had even answered. It didn't seem like Shiki intended to divulge any more information than that, though, and Motomi didn't pry him for more. Instead he turned on the radio. The music that played from the speakers sounded jazzy.

Motomi thumped his hand on the steering wheel to the beat of the music. "You guys should take advantage of what the resort has to offer. Go to the beach, check out their facilities, try out the nearby restaurants. Do some shopping maybe. There's lots of stuff you can do on vacation."

"…If you say so," Akira said in reply, not too convinced.

"You'll see when you get there," Motomi said.

The ride to the airport took a little over an hour. When they pulled up to the right terminal, Motomi glanced around at their surroundings.

"…Shit."

Akira raised a brow. "Something up?"

"How did they get here this quickly?" Motomi muttered, still looking out the car windows. Then he turned his head to look back at Shiki and Akira. "Someone must've leaked the info." He scratched the back of his head. "Sorry. It happens sometimes."

Akira shook his head. "We'll probably be fine."

Akira grabbed his guitar and slung it on his back. Shiki took that as his cue to do the same, and then they got out of the car through one side. Motomi exited from the driver's side and came around to help them grab their bags from the trunk. A few people with cameras were nearby, taking photos of them.

Akira pulled up the handle of his suitcase and laid his duffle bag on top of it. After all their luggage was taken out, Motomi closed the trunk of the car. He motioned for a valet to take the keys and park the car for them, and then the three of them headed inside the airport terminal.

 

✝

♱

 

They were not fine.

"Il Re! Lost! Is the band really going on hiatus?"

"Can you tell us about the future state of Two Crosses?"

"Where are you traveling to?"

"Tell us!"

A crowd of paparazzi had formed just shortly after Akira and Shiki took a few steps into the airport. They could barely make their way to the designated VIP area. Akira could see security coming over to help break up the crowd.

Then, there was a scream in the background.

At first Akira thought a fight had broken out, or someone had gotten injured from being trampled, or some other serious situation had occurred, but then he realized he and Shiki were the situation.

"IT'S IL RE AND LOST FROM TWO CROSSES!"

There were a bunch of high-pitched screams that followed not even two seconds later. Akira could recognize that kind of screaming anywhere after hearing it for most of his career.

The screams of fangirls.

The commotion only got louder as more people seemed to realize their identities, and then the cacophony of high-pitched screams grew in volume until it all melded together into one terrifying uproar. A massive wave of fangirls soon joined in with the paparazzi, screaming and shouting at the top of their lungs. There was a lot of pushing and screaming and shoving and…

It was a mess.

Akira had no idea how they managed to get out of there alive. All he knew was that there were security guards pushing him and Shiki through the crowd with their arms splayed out to prevent anyone from getting too close. Motomi was there in front of them leading the way, and he was also directing people out of their path as the three of them made their way through.

They eventually managed to get away from all the commotion once they entered a private, sectioned-off area of the airport. Akira stopped to get a breather. He was used to dealing with all this attention when he was at shows or concerts, but not when he was just trying to go about his daily life.

Was this what Motomi had meant when he told them to consider how their relationship might be impacted if they continued their band activities?

Once they finished making sure nothing in their luggage had gotten lost or stolen during the commotion, they continued on their way to the security checkpoint. In the background, the screams of overly excited fangirls were still audible, and it wasn't until they were at the security checkpoint did it finally seem like the voices were too far away to be heard.

"Well, I guess this is where I see you off," Motomi said.

"Yeah," Akira said. "…See you in a month." The words sounded awkward, even to Akira's ears. Normally, Motomi would be boarding the jet with them because he was their band manager and was necessary to their work, even more so when the band was on tour, but this time, he wasn't coming with them.

"Just try to have fun and don't get into too much trouble," Motomi said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Akira asked.

"Oh, you know."

Akira furrowed his brows. No, he didn't know.

Motomi just flashed a grin at him, and then he said goodbye to Shiki too.

Getting through security was a quick and painless process. There wasn't a queue or anything, so the whole procedure only took a few minutes at most. They didn't have to do much aside from showing their passports and getting their bags scanned. Once the screening was done, they were escorted outside the terminal to where the private jet was waiting on standby.

They boarded the aircraft with their luggage. The inside of the jet was spacious and had a luxurious ambiance to it, with soft, dim lights and cozy and sleek furnishing, although it wasn't anything new to Akira or Shiki. They'd flown on private jets more than a few times already, especially since it was the only way they could transport their stage equipment without having to worry about checking in all their luggage. With a private jet, all they had to do was carry their luggage with them onto the aircraft.

They had considerably less luggage this time around though. The suitcases were stored away somewhere on the jet while their duffle bags and guitars remained with them. There were a few seats on the jet, all of which had a good amount of space separating them from each other, but Akira opted to sit on the wide couch instead. The beige leather was soft and plush and he immediately felt the back of his body sinking into it.

Shiki sat down on the couch next to him. It only took a few minutes for the jet to take off. After a while of ascending, the pressure eased up and everything inside the aircraft felt stable again. The windows were large and allowed a lot of light in, but Akira tried to not peer directly into them. He felt his fatigue from earlier catching up to him now and didn't want to place any more strain on his eyes than there already was.

There was a flight attendant nearby to handle any requests they had. They decided to order something to eat since they hadn't eaten anything since waking up, and it was almost three in the afternoon now. They sat in the chairs once the food came so they could eat at a table.

The table was wide and spacious. It was light brown, made of polished wood, and it reflected light off its sleek surface. There was a vase of white flowers centered on top of it. The flight attendant carefully placed the meals they'd ordered on the table. It was ridiculously extravagant, with the plating and gourmet cuisine and delicate silverware making it look like they were dining at a fancy restaurant rather than in an aircraft several thousand meters off the ground.

The food was satisfying though despite how small the portions were. After Akira ate, he went back to sitting on the couch and letting himself sink into the plush leather. There were still two hours left on the flight and he was feeling lethargic, probably because he was no longer hungry. Akira closed his eyes to let them rest for a bit.

A few minutes later, it suddenly seemed to get darker, and Akira opened his eyes to see that the window shades had been pulled down. The lights had dimmed too. Shiki came over to sit by his side on the couch. Akira felt Shiki pulling him in by the shoulder.

“If you’re tired, then sleep,” Shiki said. It sounded more like a demand than a suggestion, coming from him.

Akira glanced up at him but Shiki wasn't looking at him. He lowered his head again, tucking it against the crook of Shiki's neck, and closed his eyes. “…Okay.”

 

✝

♱

 

It was evening by the time they arrived at the resort. They'd taken a cab from the airport to the resort after getting off the jet. The ride itself probably only took about half an hour, and Akira spent most of it adjusting to waking up from his two hour nap. His head felt light but in a refreshing sort of way, where his mind wasn't weighed down by his thoughts.

The resort was different from what he'd expected, but Akira didn't know what he was expecting in the first place. Just that it immediately gave off a different atmosphere from the hotels he and Shiki usually stayed at. There was a lot more open space and nature around, and in the distance he could already see the beach that Motomi had talked so much about. In front of the resort, there were two large pools and a patio with an overlooking view of the water. Akira heard the calm rippling of the pool water as he and Shiki walked in the direction of the resort's front desk building.

They checked in at the front desk and the person at the counter gave them their keys. She explained which building their room was located in and how they were going to get there, and then explained what kind of attractions and amenities were available. At the end of it she offered a pamphlet to them that had more information about the activities they could do here, and included within the pamphlet was a map of the whole resort.

Akira almost thought about brushing off the suggestion to take the pamphlet, but he decided to take it. He didn't want to have to walk all the way back here or call the front desk in case he wanted to know where something was located.

He and Shiki headed outside and crossed over to one of the buildings where their room apparently was. The resort seemed to have a lot of open space and amenities, but the buildings themselves didn't seem to house a lot of guests. Maybe it was better this way. This was a private resort after all, from what he gathered while listening to the front desk agent's introductory explanation, and he and Shiki didn't need random paparazzi showing up trying to get photos of them while they were supposedly on vacation.

They took the elevator up to the floor their room was on, then walked down the hall until they reached their room number. Akira unlocked the door and they stepped inside.

What caught his attention first was the sliding glass doors on the other side of the wall that opened up to a balcony. Through the glass panels was a wide view of the ocean. The evening sky was awash in tones of deepening blue, palely lit by the glimmers of stars, and the horizon was aligned at the center of the view where the sky met the sea.

Akira glanced around the room. The walls were white while the floor took on a pale beige, and the furniture was finished in a fine, dark wood. There were vases of flowers on the tables and dressers, and a coffee machine and small microwave sat on one of the counters. A mini fridge was on the floor tucked next to said counter.

There were two beds in the room. The sheets and pillows were white, but the bed covers had a blue accent to them. Akira sat down on one of the beds, immediately feeling how soft and bouncy it was as the mattress dipped beneath him. He unslung his guitar from his back and opened the case to check and see if it was okay. There didn't seem to be any damage to it, so Akira zipped the case back up and propped his guitar against the wall.

He took this time to finally check his messages. There was one from Motomi to let him know when they'd arrived at the resort. Akira texted a quick reply that he and Shiki had checked in and were in their room now.

Akira took a look inside the bathroom afterward. The bathroom didn't appear much different from the kind he'd usually see at hotels. Marbled flooring and counters, a shower encased in glass, a bathtub, soft ambient lighting, and a large mirror hanging on the wall above the sink.

Akira went back to the main room. Shiki already had his suitcase unzipped and was taking his clothes out and hanging them in the closet. It was a weird sight. Usually they only stayed for a few days at a time at hotels before having to go on another flight to perform at a different city, so it was more convenient to keep their clothes in their suitcases. But since they were going to be staying here for a month, it made sense to hang their clothes.

Akira began unpacking his suitcase as well. He hung his clothes staring from the other end of the closet, though it wasn't like he had to worry about getting his clothes mixed up with Shiki's. It was obvious who the black clothes belonged to.

By the time they were done unpacking, it was almost eight in the evening.

"I'm going to order room service," Shiki said. He had his phone out and a menu in his hand.

Akira waited for Shiki to pass him the menu, but when Shiki didn't, Akira raised a brow. "You gonna hand that over?"

"I already know what you want."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that it's a waste of time to let you look at the menu when it's obvious what you'll choose."

"…You seem awfully sure of that," Akira said.

"Because you're easy to read," Shiki replied, turning away from Akira. He was already dialing the number on his phone.

Akira was starting to feel indignant. "Stop messing around and just give me the menu."

"No." Then Shiki went out to the balcony to make the call.

Akira sighed. He sat on the bed while waiting for Shiki to finish. Shiki re-emerged from the balcony a few minutes later.

"They said our food will be here in thirty minutes," Shiki said.

While waiting for room service to arrive, they unpacked the rest of the stuff in their suitcases that weren't clothes. Eventually there was a knock on the door and Akira went to answer it.

It was room service. The attendant entered with a cart and set up the table, laying out napkin cloths and silverware in a presentable manner, before transferring the dishes from the cart to the table. Then the attendant left quietly, leaving them to enjoy their meal.

Akira sat down in one of the chairs while Shiki took a seat across from him at the table. The food was obscured in metal dome covers and Akira wasn't really sure what to expect when he lifted the cover, but he found himself staring at the plate of food in front of him.

It was… omurice.

It wasn't the regular kind he was used to having though. The egg on this one was more soft and fluffy, and it wasn't wrapped around the rice either, but just lying on top of it. The demi-glace sauce ran down the egg, and there was parsley sprinkled on top.

Akira dipped his spoon into the mound of omurice, watching as the egg split to reveal the fried rice underneath. He felt saliva welling up at the back of his tongue but swallowed it down. Akira lifted a spoonful of omurice to his mouth. He savored the first bite, tasting the freshly cooked and still piping hot egg and rice, mixed in with the demi-glace sauce.

It was a more fancy and sophisticated version of the omurice he was used to eating, but that was it. The appeal was more in the presentation than the taste, Akira supposed. He preferred the way Shiki cooked it at home. The ketchup Shiki used in his omurice was a lot more flavorful than the demi-glace sauce in this one, and the egg was firm instead of runny.

Sometimes food was better when it was simple. Akira had never really cared for gourmet cuisine.

"How does it taste?" Shiki asked.

Akira shrugged and wiped his mouth. A smudge of sauce was left on the napkin where his lips had been. "I've had better." Then, he added more quietly, "The one you make is… better."

Shiki hummed, and Akira had a bad feeling about what Shiki was going to say next.

"So you like the one for kids more."

"Shut up," Akira grumbled. Then he took another bite so he didn't have to talk.

Shiki just let out a low chuckle and continued eating as well. After dinner, Akira lay down on the bed and flipped through the pamphlet. He looked at the map of the resort, trying to figure out where everything was relative to the location of their room.

Akira closed the pamphlet. "Do you want to take a look around the resort?" he asked Shiki. It was late in the evening but still too early for them to sleep.

"Fine," Shiki said.

Akira got up from the bed and they left the room together. Outside, the sky was dark but there were plenty of light sources around the resort to illuminate their surroundings. It wasn't that hot out since it was nighttime. They took a look around the shops and restaurants nearby. Most of them were closed, but a few bars were open.

The resort was filled with trees and plants, more than Akira had ever seen in his life. He could hear the constant hum of insects, from slow chirps to quiet buzzing. The breeze was gentle, and in the background, the distant sound of ocean waves was audible. After a long walk, they headed back to their room.

They each took a shower once they were in their room. Akira was the second one to go. He came out of the bathroom in a loose tee and shorts, carrying his worn clothes with him in the crook of his arm. He was going to have to ask about the laundry service tomorrow, but for now, he just dumped his worn clothes over a chair.

He didn't know why, but the feeling of being fresh out of the shower made him feel a little sleepy. Maybe the jet lag was finally catching up to him. His limbs were lax and when he climbed into bed and let his head fall onto the plush pillow, the heavy and dull sensation in his eyes intensified.

Akira pulled the covers up over his shoulders and buried his cheek into the pillow. Everything around him was soft and cozy and he was slowly sinking. The room was dim because the lights were off except for the lamp on the nightstand. He closed his eyes.

A few seconds later, he heard the sound of the lamp being turned off. Shiki lifted the covers and got into bed with him.

"Shiki?" Akira opened his eyes and looked behind him.

"The bed's big enough to fit both of us."

"…I wasn't worried about that," Akira said, turning his head back to face forward. He was just surprised. For a moment, he'd thought Shiki wasn't going to sleep in the same bed as him tonight, even though he always demanded that they sleep together, and got prickly when they didn't.

The bed sheets rustled as Shiki moved closer to him. Then he put his arms around Akira and pressed his face against his hair.

It didn't take long for Akira to fall asleep once Shiki was settled against him.

 

✝

♱

 

The next morning, Akira woke up earlier than usual. It probably had something to do with jet lag. The curtains were drawn, but the soft glow of sunlight still managed to seep into the room.

Shiki's arms were around him, just like they had been when Akira fell asleep last night. Akira glanced behind him to look at his face. Shiki was still asleep. His face looked surprisingly soft when his eyes were closed, but Akira had always thought Shiki's eyes were his most striking features. They were the first thing Akira had noticed about him when they met for the first time.

Carefully and slowly, Akira pulled Shiki's arms off him. Then he slipped out of bed. Against the wall, his guitar was resting in its case. Akira picked it up and headed toward the balcony. He made sure to slide the glass door open slowly so it wouldn't rattle, and then he closed it quietly behind him.

Akira sat down in one of the chairs on the balcony. White sunlight shone down on him. It was hot outside, but not unpleasantly so. The wind kept the humidity from sticking to his skin. He could hear the waves coming up against the shore, slow and peaceful.

The ocean looked decidedly different at day than at night. There was a lot more color. The blue sea water looked richer, and the glimmering grains of sand that made up the shore looked pale under the bright sunlight. The sky was a soft shade of blue, different from the deep and vibrant blue of the sea, and on the land, the trees were so green and vivid that it almost looked surreal.

Akira took his guitar out of its case. He spent a few seconds tuning it. When the notes sounded just right, he began his practice session by doing a few technical exercises to warm up. Then he played a song.

The melodious notes drifted in the air over the ambient sounds of the sea shore. Akira played several songs and watched as the sun slowly rose higher, spreading its rays across the sky. The scenery brightened even more, and soon Akura started to feel the dry heat of the weather, but he didn't go back in just yet.

He played a couple more songs. Mainly ones from the band's older albums, from when he and Shiki were still trying to find their own unique style. It brought a sense of… nostalgia. He guessed that was the best way to put it. As he played, the notes from the guitar sounded soft and rich on the low wind that was blowing in toward the seaside, all the way from the shore. The wind carried with it the faint scent of sea salt, and Akira's hair and clothes rippled in the gentle summer breeze.

His thoughts drifted to the scandal, and what it meant for the band. It didn't really matter to him if he ended up having to quit the music industry and take up a different career, but Shiki was the one who'd been adamant about forming a band together back in their high school years. He'd demanded Akira to join him—forced him into it, actually. Akira still remembered, with much displeasure, how Shiki had tricked him into thinking they were going to jam at a studio Shiki had apparently rented out for a couple of hours, when really, they were going to perform at a live venue with thousands of people watching.

Akira had almost walked out when he saw the bright stage and the waiting audience. He'd never been interested in performing in front of others. Playing guitar was only something he did in his free time because there was nothing else to do, but something stopped him from walking out of there. Maybe it was his pride, or his defiance. Maybe it was because Shiki's taunts about how he hadn't expected Akira to be such a coward had gotten to him, and he was determined to prove Shiki wrong. Maybe it was the adrenaline he felt pumping through his veins; the heavy pounding of his heart and the rising hairs on his skin from all the buzzing tension in the venue.

Whatever it was, it had made him turn around and set up his equipment.

In the end, he'd performed on stage with Shiki until the end of the show. He'd played and played under the bright lights, letting all the tension, the heat and the adrenaline wash over him, his head alight with fiery exhilaration from the notes he was playing. Each note felt electrifying, intoxicating. He felt it in his bloodstream, the heat rushing through him, the energy in his veins, the rhythm of the music echoing in him like the world's heartbeat: powerful, intense, riveting. His heart vibrated to the frenzied and fast-paced tempo of the music—their music—and the stage seemed to thump beneath his feet. Beads of sweat stained him, his head and his skin hot.

It was the first time he really let go in his mind and just played.

It was the first time in his life he felt alive.

And afterward, when the show was over and they were backstage, the cheers of the wild crowd still echoing throughout the venue, Shiki had looked at him with this imperceptible gleam in his eyes, this sharp gaze, like he was considering Akira in a new light.

Akira never once forgot the look Shiki had given him at that moment.

Akira listened to the slow tide of the waves in conjunction with the light notes he was playing on the guitar. He didn't know what Shiki saw in him back then. He still didn't know what Shiki saw in him even now. All he knew was that Shiki had seen something in him, some force of nature that Akira himself didn't even know existed within him up until that moment when Shiki had turned his gaze upon him and truly looked at him, and saw in him what nobody else could.

That was why he'd chosen to follow Shiki all this time. To find out what that will inside of him was; to see where it would lead him.

While he was in the middle of his session, the balcony door slid open behind him.

"Akira."

Akira stopped playing and glanced over his shoulder. Shiki was finally up and about. "What?"

Shiki was leaning against the balcony door with his arms crossed. He looked to be in a bad mood, judging by the glare on his face. "What are you doing out here?"

"I was practicing," Akira said. "I didn't want to wake you." Then he realized why Shiki was so pissed off. It was because Akira hadn't been in bed with him when he woke up. He could be incredibly petty like that.

"Hmph." Shiki's eyes flicked to the guitar in Akira's hands. "…You were playing our old songs."

"Yeah." He wondered how long Shiki had been listening. Akira resumed playing. Shiki stood by the balcony door, watching and listening. Akira ignored his stare and focused on playing. It wasn't until the song finished that Shiki finally spoke up again.

"Have you eaten yet?" Shiki asked. It was an innocuous enough question. He wasn't glaring at Akira anymore.

Akira shook his head in response. Shiki's pissy mood stemming from Akira getting out of bed without him seemed to be going away, at least.

"Then let's go get breakfast. The buffet closes at ten."

"…Sure," Akira said. "Just let me put my guitar away."

"Hurry up," Shiki said. With that, he walked away, leaving the balcony door open.

Akira got up from the chair and went back inside the room where it was much cooler. He stored the guitar away in its case.

The two of them went down the elevator and walked across to another building in the resort where the designated buffet area was. Breakfast was still being served so they both grabbed a plate and walked around, looking at the selection of food that was available. Once their plates were full, they found a table to sit at.

Akira's plate was a mishmash of rice, beans, pastries, chips, and fruits—mainly because he didn't know what to get and was just picking random stuff—while Shiki's plate looked more like a traditional Japanese meal, with rice, meat, vegetables, and a bowl of miso soup on the side.

Akira picked up a croissant and started eating. There were other people at the buffet, but none of them seemed to pay him or Shiki any mind. Maybe they didn't know who Akira and Shiki were, or they were also other people who had status and fame to their names. It didn't exactly seem like this resort was open to just anyone who had a bit of money.

The croissant was soft and warm. Akira finished it and was about to pick something else off his plate to eat when Shiki suddenly reached over to wipe a crumb off Akira's face. Akira paused.

Shiki licked the crumb off his finger. He did it casually, like he hadn't picked it up from the corner of Akira's mouth. Then he went back to eating food off his own plate right after, looking completely nonchalant about the whole thing even though they were in public.

"…Thanks," Akira said, wondering if any of that had been necessary. And then he made an effort to not eat so messily, or at least wipe his mouth often to get rid of the crumbs.

After breakfast, they spent the rest of the day touring around the resort and checking out the shops. There were various gift shops and Akira browsed through their inventory, thinking of what to get Motomi. Apparently it was customary to buy souvenirs and bring them back for family members and friends and colleagues if you went on vacation.

Akira remembered Motomi giving him and Shiki loads of snacks whenever he returned from one of his vacations. They would always be snacks that were local to the country he'd visited. So should he buy Motomi some snacks in turn…?

Akira walked down the Solids aisle. There were various flavors of Solids, especially ones he'd never seen before and didn't even know existed. He saw strange flavor combinations, many of which sounded… unappealing and borderline inedible, and the wrappers themselves had wacky packaging designs, but it seemed like exactly the type of thing Motomi would have a good laugh at. Akira ended up buying a variety of different flavors.

By now it was well into the afternoon. He and Shiki got lunch at some restaurant, and then they checked out what amenities the resort had to offer after. It was hot outside, especially at this time of day when the sun's heat was in full force, so they stuck to staying indoors where it was cool and air conditioned.

When they got back to their room during the evening, Akira stashed the Solids he'd bought into his duffle bag. They got room service again, and this time Akira was able to order something for himself—not omurice—and they ate dinner at the table.

It was around midnight by the time they finally got into bed. Akira lay on his side and fell asleep to the feel of Shiki's breaths against the back of his neck.

 

✝

♱

 

Akira sighed.

...This wasn't working.

The chords he was coming up with just didn't sound right. Akira kept strumming the guitar, but it all sounded off somehow.

Soft sunlight filtered into the room through the glass panels leading to the balcony. The sliding doors to the balcony were open, letting the morning breeze in, and the wind was gentle and cool against his skin, providing a nice contrast to the humid weather.

It was early in the morning. The sun was just above the horizon.

Shiki was in the bathroom taking a shower, and Akira could hear the muffled sounds of running water through the wall. Akira stood up and put away his guitar, deciding that he needed a break. It was the first time he had such trouble coming up with a melody. Usually it came naturally to him, but his fingers weren't coordinating with his ears, or his ears with his fingers—whichever way it was.

Akira glanced at the view of the balcony as he set the guitar case upright against the wall. The white linen curtains draped around the glass panels swayed in the gentle summer breeze. Akira stepped outside onto the balcony, feeling the difference in temperature immediately. The humid air felt sticky and hot against his skin and he didn't plan to stay outside for long.

Akira walked up to the edge of the balcony and rested his elbows across the railing, shifting his weight onto one foot. He breathed in the scent of sea salt in the warm air and listened to the slow tide of waves rolling onto the shore, rippling against the grainy sand. In the distance, he could hear the high-pitched cries of seagulls.

…Motomi was right. The view of the beach was nice here.

It was only their third day at the resort and Akira was already looking forward to going home. He didn't know what the point of being here was. The band could've gone on hiatus without doing this whole vacation thing. Sure, they didn't have to deal with any paparazzi here, but it felt like they were being forced to hide from the outside world. Akira didn't like it.

There was only so much he and Shiki could see or do or eat at the resort before it started to feel like a drag. Living this kind of quiet, peaceful life wasn't suited for them. Akira was used to jamming with Shiki for hours on end in their studio, playing at venues in front of a hyped and screaming audience, and constantly being on the move, traveling from one place to the next. There was hardly any time to ever just sit and stay still while being a part of a band.

Maybe that was why he couldn't come up with anything good. He wasn't used to this kind of slow, quiet atmosphere. His best stuff usually came when he was jamming with Shiki, anyway.

He'd been standing out here long enough. Beads of sweat were starting to form on Akira's temples and neck, and his hair felt hot under the sun. Akira headed back inside the room where there was shade, and he turned on the air conditioner. It beeped and started flooding the room with cool air.

Akira collapsed onto the bed with a sigh, closing his eyes.

…It was the first time he ever felt like he was stuck in a creative rut. No matter what, he'd always been able to come up with something, even if it was half-decent at best and just needed a lot of refining. But now everything sounded wrong to him, like there was something wrong with his ears, or his brain, or he'd simply outgrown his connection with music. No amount of tweaking or refining could fix the terrible chord progressions he was coming up with.

Akira sat up. He had this feeling in him that wouldn't go away though, this nagging sensation. Even if he couldn't come up with any chords that resonated with him, he still had to get this urge out of his system. It pulled in the back of his mind, and Akira considered taking out his guitar again to try and play something on it, but he stopped. On the desk, there was a pen and notepad, courtesy of the resort. Akira picked up the pen and notepad.

He sat down. For a while, nothing came to mind. But then, he let go whatever apprehension was holding him back, and taking a deep breath in, he pressed the tip of the pen to the paper.

He began to write.

 

✝

♱

 

The faded photograph

Bring back the memory

Life had a meaning

And you gave what had to be

 

Akira put the pen down. He separated the paper from the notepad and read over the lyrics he wrote, trying to fight off the urge to cross out the words or crumple the paper into a ball in his hand.

He'd never been good at expressing himself with words conversationally, let alone musically. He preferred to make sounds with an instrument and make the notes flow into a melody instead. Music struck a chord with him—literally—in a way that words didn't.

Which was why it was ironic that inspiration was striking him now in the form of words, and not chords.

He'd just written whatever came to mind. It was his first time ever writing song lyrics, and obviously, he didn't expect himself to come up with anything great, but… this was why he stuck to composing with chords rather than writing lyrics. He had no talent with words, and it showed.

Akira folded the piece of paper up but didn't throw it away. Instead he slipped it into his pocket. Maybe it could be useful later. He didn't have to incorporate the lyrics into a song, but he could try to come up with chords surrounding them.

Shiki finally came out of the bathroom, all dressed up and ready to go. He was wearing a plain black tee and just a simple pair of jeans, but he'd styled his outfit with silver accessories. Akira got up from the chair and they headed down to get breakfast at the buffet.

 

✝

♱

 

" …You're writing lyrics," Shiki said to him. It was evening and they were back in their room. Shiki had just gotten out of the shower and he had a towel draped over his wet hair.

"Yeah." Akira didn't bother trying to deny it. He didn't realize it was that obvious though, that what he was writing down were song lyrics.

"That's rare.”

Akira shrugged. "I just felt like writing something down."

Shiki sat next to him on the bed. "Let me read them." He held his hand out.

Akira hesitated. "It's not done yet." Shiki continued to look at him expectantly though, like he was waiting for Akira to let him read the lyrics anyway, and Akira figured Shiki wasn't going to stop bothering him until he reluctantly agreed. So he showed Shiki the lyrics.

Shiki raised a brow. "They're in English."

Akira shrugged. "When I tried thinking about what to write in Japanese, I couldn't get the words down on paper."

It was probably because he didn't actually know English all that well, so he didn't get hung up on making the words flow. He knew the lyrics were probably grammatically incorrect at some points, but writing in English was the only way he'd been able to transform the abstract thoughts in his head into something concrete, as contradictory as that sounded.

Shiki spent a minute looking over the verses that Akira had written down. Then he glanced up from the paper and said, "These lyrics don't fit our music."

Akira sighed. He didn't need Shiki to tell him the obvious. "That's why you're the one who writes all our lyrics, and I'm the one who comes up with the chords."

"Hmph." Shiki handed the paper back to Akira.

Akira thought Shiki would drop the subject or offer even more criticism on his lyrics after that, but instead, Shiki asked a question that surprised him.

"Have you thought of a title for it yet?"

Akira shook his head. Why would he need to come up with one?

"Tell me when you do," Shiki said. A pause lingered in the air between them. "What's the song about?"

"It's not about something," Akira said. "…It's about someone."

Shiki said nothing in reply, seeming to take a moment to consider Akira's words, but he regarded Akira with an unidentifiable look in his eyes.

"When the song is done being composed," Shiki said, "let's release it as a single."

Akira was yet again surprised by Shiki's words. "…I thought you said these lyrics don't fit our music."

"I did," Shiki said, standing up from the bed. He put his hand on Akira's hair and ruffled it as he passed by him on the way to grab the blow dryer. "But I never said they were uninspiring."

Akira stared at Shiki's back, and a faint smile found its way to the corners of Akira's lips. "…Okay."

 

✝

♱

 

Tell me a story

With a happy ending

Searching for the reason

Why my heart is beating

 

The paper rippled in the wind. Akira finished writing the verse down, being careful not to rip the paper while writing. Then he folded the piece of paper back into his pocket.

They were outside on the beach, sitting down at a quiet and secluded area that they'd found while walking along the shore. The fact that the beach was private and only open to guests at the resort ensured that they wouldn't be bothered here. The wind was heavy, blowing over the sand as the waves lapped the shore. It was extremely hot today, and the sun was beating down on them, but the wind kept the heat from being too unbearable on their skin.

They had a blanket laid over the sand. The smell of the sea breeze was stronger than ever because of how close they were to the ocean. Behind them was a cluster of palm trees, thick and heavy and green on the landscape, with large bristles for leaves that cast shadows over the sand, which were held up by tall trunks that swayed whenever the wind blew by.

"Akira."

Akira felt a little sluggish under the heat. "Yeah?" He was wearing a loose tank top, but he was still sweating hard. Shiki… somehow seemed to be handling the heat better than him despite wearing all black in the form of a loose tee and shorts, but Akira could make out the beads of sweat trailing down Shiki's skin.

Shiki was holding a water bottle in his hand that had been chilled in the freezer. "Have you come up with a melody for the song yet?"

"I've been trying some stuff on the guitar, but nothing's really come to mind," he admitted. His mouth felt dry. "Pass that over?" He gestured to the bottle in Shiki's hand.

"Hm." Shiki handed Akira the water bottle.

Akira uncapped the bottle and drank a generous amount. The ice cold water was refreshing as it flowed down his throat, and he tilted his head back. He was wearing a black cap today that helped to keep the sun off his face, but he squinted when he saw the glare of the sun in his peripheral view. The sun was really bright today, practically blinding white against the blue of the sky.

"It doesn't have to be right away," Shiki said. "We can work on the melody together."

Akira lowered the water bottle from his mouth and capped it. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "…Sure."

Shiki stood up. He glanced down at Akira, looking like he was waiting for Akira to stand up with him. Akira slowly got to his feet, but Shiki decided a quicker way to help him do that would be to pull him up by the arm. Akira stumbled forward and Shiki caught him in his arms.

"…Do you want to go back to the room?" Shiki asked. "You look unwell."

Akira shook his head. He lifted his face from Shiki's chest and straightened, but Shiki's arms were still around him, like he was expecting Akira to fall down if he didn't hold him upright.

"I'm fine. It's just the heat." And it was Shiki's fault in the first place for pulling him up so suddenly. Akira nodded toward the ocean. "I think I'll be able to cool off there."

Shiki apparently agreed with that because he took Akira's wrist and led him toward the water. Akira followed sluggishly behind him. Even the warmth of Shiki's hand seemed to feel hot on his skin.

Hotter than the touch of Shiki's hand, however, was the sand. Akira felt like his feet were being cooked on a grill with each step he took. The sand got in between his toes and even over the top of his feet, and the texture of it was all grainy. Akira grimaced.

Once they reached the shoreline and dipped their feet in the water, Akira felt better. The water was cool, and it washed some of the sand away, although not entirely. Akira still felt grains of sand sticking to his feet, but the sensation was more bearable now.

They walked along the shoreline for a while, side by side.

Akira looked at the sparkling sea water, watching how the colors seemed to shift and waver. The ocean seemed to contain various shades of blue. From deep blue to aquamarine to turquoise to azure to crystal clear water—all these vivid colors that wouldn't be able to be found anywhere else, and yet the ocean was made up entirely of them.

The water gleamed under the sunlight and rippled across the shore, slow and steady. White seafoam washed up against the grainy and pebbled sand. There was the ever-present lull of the tide coming and going as the waves made a loud susurrus against the shore.

Akira glanced beside him at Shiki. Shiki looked so out of place with his black clothing. But against the backdrop of the blue ocean and clear sky and dazzling sun, he looked more mesmerizing than anything here.

"Why are you staring at me?" Shiki asked. His eyes had caught Akira's.

Akira promptly looked away. "…I'm not," he said. He didn't even realize he'd been staring. "Your big head is just blocking the view."

"Hmph. You're acting pretty cheeky even though you could barely stand just a while ago."

"That's because you pulled me up too hard," Akira said, even though it was only half true. He wasn't used to the heat of being on a beach. It didn't help that the weather here was hotter than what he was used to back in their home city.

They walked for what seemed like a while before heading back to grab their stuff. Akira didn't mind the heat so much anymore. There were finally some clouds in the sky, lessening the sun's intensity.

It was late in the afternoon now. They left the private beach and headed back in the direction of the resort, walking on a path that was lined with trees. The white buildings of the resort soon came into view, and there were a few people sunbathing on outdoor lounge chairs near the poolside, or just sitting around on the patio.

Shiki suddenly stopped and turned around. Akira was about to question him when Shiki took Akira's face into his hands and kissed him lightly on the lips. It was so soft and lightning quick that Akira himself hadn't even realized Shiki had kissed him until it was already over. The only pieces of evidence to suggest that Shiki had even pulled that little maneuver off in the first place was the fact that his hands were still on Akira's face, and the lingering warmth on Akira's lips.

Akira was tense. "What are you doing?"

Shiki gave him a look that said he thought Akira was an utter idiot for even asking. "Giving you a kiss, that's what."

Akira heaved a quiet sigh, looking off to the side. "Someone might take a picture of us."

"And?" was Shiki's reply.

Akira's eyes flicked back to Shiki. "What do you mean 'and'?"

Shiki was still holding his face in his hands. "Do you dislike it?"

"Dislike what? Being stalked by paparazzi?" Akira frowned. "Of course I don't like it." It was the whole reason why they were here in the first place.

"Not that," Shiki said. "Being kissed."

Akira paused for a moment, and then he lowered his voice into a soft tone. "…Not really."

"Then it's fine." He let go of Akira's face and grabbed him by the arm. "Let's go." Shiki resumed walking, pulling Akira along with him. He walked as if nothing was wrong; as if their relationship hadn't been exposed to the whole world just a few days prior and their careers weren't in jeopardy.

"Oi…" Akira followed him. He frowned. Did none of this really not bother Shiki?

As they walked, Akira gazed at the way the sunlight shone down on Shiki's form, dazzling and bright against his black hair and clothes. Shiki was walking with such certainty, his back tall and his shoulders broad. His gait was even, and he didn't slow down, but he continued pulling Akira along with him, as though he refused to allow Akira to fall behind.

Akira glanced down to where Shiki's hand was holding him. He didn't understand why this hand on his arm felt comforting. All he knew was that he didn't want Shiki to let go, and that…

He wanted to continue following the light that Shiki seemed to shine with.

 

✝

♱

 

The next day, Akira stayed indoors. Not of his own free will. No, Shiki forced him to stay inside after he saw the inflammation on Akira's skin.

"How did you get sunburned?" Shiki asked. He had his arms crossed and was staring down critically at Akira, who was sitting shirtless on the bed.

"I don't know," Akira said, his shoulders hunched.

"Did you put on sunscreen yesterday?"

Akira shook his head.

Shiki scoffed. "Idiot," he said. "You're supposed to."

How was he supposed to know? He'd never been to the beach before.

The redness was all over his arms and neck and the lower half of his legs. The only part on his torso where he hadn't gotten sunburned was where his tank top had been covering his skin. The outline of it was practically visible because his skin was still pale there. His face didn't have any redness either—probably thanks to the hat he'd been wearing.

Shiki rummaged through his bag for something. He took out what seemed to be a bottle of lotion and sat on the bed next to Akira. Shiki opened the cap and squeezed a small amount of cream on his hands. Then he rubbed it over Akira's inflamed skin. He repeated this until he'd applied the lotion wherever the skin was affected.

"Thanks," Akira said, touching his own skin. It felt slightly warm to the touch and was sensitive, but it wasn't excruciatingly painful or anything.

"It'll be gone in a couple of days," Shiki said. He capped the lotion bottle but didn't put it back in his bag, instead leaving it out on the nightstand.

Since Akira couldn't go to the buffet for breakfast (not that he physically couldn't, but that Shiki forbade him to), he ended up staying in the room while Shiki went to grab food from a nearby cafe. The curtains were half drawn, blocking out the sunlight on one side, and the air conditioner emitted a low hum as it blew cool air into the room.

Akira took out the piece of paper containing the lyrics he'd written down. It was already showing signs of wear from being folded. He should really copy this over to a digital file, before he lost the paper or it got ripped somehow.

Akira took out his laptop and typed up the lyrics on a blank document. There were only four verses so far, and he hadn't come up with the chorus yet. He clicked save after he was done copying over the lyrics, but was then prompted with a dialog box to name the file. Akira still didn't know what to title the song yet, so he gave it a generic filename and left it at that.

Akira heard the knob turning a while later and glanced at the door. Shiki entered the room with two bags in his hand. He set the bags on the table where Akira was sitting with his laptop out.

In one bag, there was a variety of baked goods, while in the other, there was a cardboard drink carrier that held two cups of coffee. Akira took the drink that had a lighter brown hue instead of the darker one, since the latter was obviously meant to be a black coffee. They ate breakfast at the table together, and after they finished, Shiki told Akira to take his guitar out.

"Why?" Akira asked. He tossed the plastic cup he'd been drinking his latte from into the trash can.

"Because we're going to work on composing the song together." Shiki took his own guitar out of its case. He'd brought an acoustic one with him like Akira.

Akira retrieved his guitar and sat down opposite to Shiki on the other bed so that they were facing each other.

It'd been a while since they played a session together like this. Technically, it'd only been a few days, but for some reason it felt like it'd been a long time since he and Shiki sat down and had a proper session together.

"Have you come up with anything yet?" Shiki asked.

Akira shook his head. "Only the lyrics."

"Show me."

Akira grabbed the piece of paper he'd left on the table and handed it to him. Shiki read through the lyrics and then placed the paper next to him on the bed. He started strumming his guitar and singing the lyrics.

Akira was a bit caught off guard hearing Shiki suddenly sing the lyrics he'd written, but he quickly got over his surprise and played along to the sound of Shiki's voice. Because they didn't have a melody to go off yet, Shiki sang the first verse in several ways, adjusting his pitch and cadence each time. Akira focused on playing notes that would harmonize with Shiki's voice.

It was a lot of trial and error, which wasn't something they were unfamiliar with. That was just the nature of composing a song.

Bit by bit, Akira adjusted the notes until it slowly started sounding right. The notes vaguely came together, forming a melody around Shiki's voice, and Akira found himself playing a certain chord progression after a while. Shiki apparently noticed this too, because he started singing a specific tune to the chords Akira was playing, only slightly adjusting the rhythm here and there.

It took a few more tries, but eventually, the melody gained stability and an identity.

"…I think that's good," Akira said. "Let's keep going."

Shiki sang the rest of the verses, following the pattern of the melody they'd come up with for the first one. He changed his cadence for the second and fourth verses since they were shorter. Akira focused on the flow of the lyrics and how the words sounded in Shiki's voice, and he played another set of chords that still fell within the structure of the melody.

It… sounded right. Maybe it needed a little tweaking here and there, but the melody was coming together, bit by bit, piece by piece. Akira had a good idea of how the song was supposed to go now.

They practiced some more, trying out different notes and pitches until the melody they were trying to figure out became more apparent. They finished their session sometime during the afternoon.

"The next part should be the chorus," Shiki suggested as he put his guitar away.

"…I'll try to think of something," Akira said.

Akira put his own guitar away and zipped up the case. He felt strange. Usually Shiki was the one who would come up with the lyrics, and Akira would come up with the melody for the song. That was how Two Crosses had always functioned as a band so far. But now they were trying to compose a song based on the lyrics that Akira wrote.

Akira still didn't have a clue as to how writing lyrics worked. Shiki wasn't giving him any critique or pointers on that end even though he was the expert on writing song lyrics here. All Akira knew was that there was usually a meaning or message behind most songs. Akira had never asked Shiki what the lyrics he wrote for their songs were supposed to mean, mostly because it had just never crossed his mind to ask. Whatever meaning their songs contained would come to Akira implicitly as he worked on composing the melody.

Akira looked over his own lyrics that he'd written. There was… a message he was trying to convey in these lyrics, right?

Akira sighed and folded the paper and put it away in his pocket. He didn't want to mull over it too much.

Shiki went to buy lunch, leaving Akira alone in the room. He was probably only gone for about twenty minutes before he returned. They ate lunch and then resumed their practice session. It continued all the way until evening, and Akira came out of it feeling like they'd made a decent amount of progress. The song was slowly coming together, and even if the lyrics weren't finished yet, at least they had a melody to go off now. It would make the rest of the song easier to compose once they did have all the lyrics.

Before they went to sleep that night, Shiki applied more lotion to Akira's skin. Akira muttered a thanks and put his shirt back on after Shiki was done. He got into bed, and in the next minute, Shiki was right there with him under the covers. They fell asleep with their limbs entangled.

 

✝

♱

 

Akira spent the next few days staying indoors. The redness on his skin hadn't fully gone away yet, and after the third day of dealing with this sunburn, his skin had started peeling.

He spent most of his time practicing his guitar, which was what he usually did when he wasn't on vacation anyway, so it wasn't that bad. Shiki stayed with him in the room the whole time and only ever left to get food.

The sunburn was finally starting to fade, at least. It had gone from bright red to pale pink on his skin. His skin didn't feel warm or tender to the touch anymore, which Akira took as a good sign. The only annoying thing was that his skin was peeling and coming off in bits of white now—dead skin, probably. When Shiki caught him scratching at those parts, he abruptly grabbed Akira's wrist.

"Stop picking at it," Shiki said. Then he let go of Akira's wrist and went to the closet.

Akira watched as Shiki rummaged through the closet for something. A moment later, he pulled out a long-sleeved black shirt and held it out to Akira by its hanger.

"Put this on. It'll cover your arms."

Akira was bewildered to say the least. "Why did you pack this?" he asked. Wearing all black during summer was already incomprehensible, but a long-sleeved black shirt?

"Just put it on," Shiki said, sounding mildly annoyed by Akira's lack of compliance. "Or do you need help taking your shirt off?" He reached to grab the hem of Akira's shirt and started lifting it for him.

"I can take it off myse—" Akira tried to jerk Shiki's hands away. "Hey—" His voice was cut off as Shiki pulled his shirt up over his head for him. Akira shrugged himself out of the rest of the shirt, mussing up his hair along the way. The chill of the air conditioned room hit his bare skin.

Shiki was holding out the black shirt to him. Akira sighed and reluctantly put it on. Shiki always just did whatever he wanted and expected others to go along with his whims. Akira wasn't surprised at this point.

The shirt wasn't tight fitting, but actually quite loose, so it slipped on easily as soon as he got his head through the neckhole and his arms through the sleeves. Akira wondered how ridiculous he looked in this shirt. He certainly felt that way. The sleeves were a little too long for him.

"You can keep that," Shiki said, taking Akira's previously worn shirt away.

"I don't want it," Akira said, but Shiki was already walking away and tossing Akira's shirt into the hamper.

Later that evening, when Akira got out of the shower and was about to put on Shiki's shirt again, he noticed something.

Akira lifted the shirt close to his face. It… had Shiki's scent attached to it. It was faint, but there, and there was no way Akira could mistake it for anything else.

Akira slipped on the shirt and looked at himself in the mirror. The mirror was a little blurred from the steam that had risen in the bathroom during his shower, so he wiped a part of it with his hand, leaving a clear but wet streak on the mirror.

…The shirt was definitely too big on him. It was too long, not to mention wide in the shoulders, and it was obviously meant for someone of a taller stature. Akira sighed and looked away. He distracted himself by brushing his teeth before leaving the bathroom.

Shiki was sitting on a bed with one leg crossed over the other and playing on his guitar. Akira slipped into the bed that wasn't preoccupied. He faced Shiki and watched as Shiki played a couple songs on the guitar.

The room was dim and only the lamp on the nightstand was on. Shiki's pale skin was cast in shadows against the low light of the room. The curtains were still open, and off in the distance, the moon was shining over the sea.

Shiki was playing a melody that had a slower tempo, and he was singing the lyrics under his breath. His voice was low and surprisingly soft.

"Are you trying to sleep?" Shiki asked.

Akira's eyes opened at the sound of his voice. He didn't even realize he'd closed them. Shiki was looking at him, his fingers paused over the strings on the guitar.

"No," Akira replied. "I was just listening to you play." But he might as well have fallen asleep anyway. Not because the sound of his playing was boring, but because the combination of Shiki's low voice and the soft guitar notes he was playing sounded like a lullaby.

Shiki continued playing and he spoke softly under his breath, almost humming the lyrics here and there. Akira wasn't sure when he fell asleep, but it must've been sometime during the session, because he didn't recall Shiki getting into bed with him when he woke up in Shiki's arms the next morning.

 

✝

♱

 

In your eyes

Your eyes

The light still shines

In your heart

Your heart

The love alive

 

The sound of the waves was calming. Akira stared out at the wide, blue sea, watching as the water shimmered under the bright sun. The fresh breeze carried with it an ocean-tinged scent that Akira was admittedly starting to grow fond of.

He was no longer placed under "house arrest" since Shiki decided it was fine for him to be out in the sun again. His sunburn was almost fully gone by now, aside from the few flakes of peeling skin here and there. They were back on the beach, but this time, they were prepared. Shiki had bought a large beach umbrella from one of the shops near the resort. The umbrella was currently propped upright and secured in the sand, providing them ample amount of shade from the sun.

Akira was wearing a loose, short-sleeved button up over his tank top, and he'd slathered himself with sunscreen before they left the room this morning. He'd been averse to the heavy feeling of having a layer of cream on his skin at first, but now it barely registered in his mind after some time had passed and his skin had absorbed the cream. Now he was enjoying the feel of the summer breeze on him as the wind blew inland from the sea.

"This is the chorus?" Shiki asked as he read through the lyrics.

Akira nodded. He knew the lines sounded cliche, and he was waiting for Shiki to make some offhand comment about Akira's lack of originality or eloquence, but the critique never came. Instead, Shiki just put down the clipboard that had the paper of Akira's lyrics attached to it and reached for his guitar. The paper rippled in the wind but didn't get blown away.

They'd brought their guitars with them down to the beach to practice while spending the afternoon out today. Shiki took up his guitar and checked how the strings sounded. Akira had his guitar laid across his lap and was ready to play.

They started from the beginning. Shiki sang the verses while playing some notes on his guitar, and Akira's fingers immediately moved and played the chords like it was muscle memory. It kind of was, considering how much he’d practiced the chords the past few days when he had nothing better to do while being forced to stay indoors. They’d gotten the melody down and Akira played the notes without thinking about them too hard, instead just focusing on the sound of Shiki’s voice.

When they got to the chorus, Akira tried to continue the melody in a way that sounded natural, playing chords that fit into the structure of the song. Shiki sang the chorus, also trying to pick up from the melody of the previous verses. After they finished doing a run-through of the chorus section, Akira paused and furrowed his brows.

Something about the way they played just now sounded off. Akira tried to think about what it was the song needed. Shiki waited and took a sip of cold water while Akira was lost in his thoughts.

“Let’s just practice the chorus for now,” Akira said. They could find a way to connect the chorus to the verses later.

They practiced for a while. The wind wasn't that heavy; just a gentle breeze curling up on the seaside, so the sounds of their guitars weren't distorted too much.

It was warm today, and even with the umbrella's shade, Akira was sweating. But it wasn't unbearably hot like the last time they'd been out here. In fact, the heat was actually kind of refreshing after staying in an air conditioned room for so long. Akira was able to ignore the sweat and heat on his skin as he strummed his guitar, slightly bobbing his head to the rhythm of the melody that he was playing. He was mostly improvising, but he was adjusting the notes to play off Shiki's voice.

The sound of Shiki's voice and their guitars drifted over the shore, light on the wind. In the distance, the ambient noise of the waves washing over the sand added a strange, wistful quality to the mood. The surface of the water rippled gently, stirred by the wind, and the leaves of the palm trees rustled overhead, mimicking the sound of hushed whispers. There were birds in the background, chirping and singing.

All the surrounding noise didn't take away from Shiki's voice, but rather added to it. Shiki's voice sounded different, but not in a bad way. His voice was muffled in the wind, and while the seaside environment didn't make for great and clear acoustics the way a studio might, his vocals instead sounded so raw and natural over the sound of the waves and everything else that was making noise on the beach. Akira focused on the timbre of Shiki's voice as he strummed the strings on his guitar.

They took a break once they'd gotten down the melody for the chorus. It wasn't perfect yet, but they had made a ton of progress.

For lunch they ate sandwiches that they’d packed with them. Akira stared out into the sea as he ate, watching the water splash against the rocks. The sun was still bright out even though it was late in the afternoon, and the sky was a perfect, picturesque summer blue. There were clouds floating overhead, wispy and white.

After they finished eating, Shiki reminded Akira to reapply sunscreen to his skin. Akira promptly slathered sunscreen all over himself, not wanting a repeat of what happened the last time he came out to the beach.

They decided to get up and take a walk on the beach afterward. The sun wasn't as glaringly bright as it was earlier when it was around noon. The sand was still sizzling hot though. It glittered beneath their feet. It was soft but somehow firm to stand on, and there were indents left in the sand in the shape of their footsteps.

They dipped their feet in the cool water and walked along the shoreline. Akira looked down at the sand as they walked. There were small pebbles and shells in the sand. A thin, almost transparent layer of white seafoam was left behind whenever the tide pulled away.

They slowly entered deeper into the water. The water came up to their knees now. Akira started to feel the drag of the water against his legs with each step he took. His feet were still visible under the clear, slightly blue-tinged water, and he could see sunlight gleaming off the tremulous surface of it.

Akira suddenly felt Shiki's hand sliding around his wrist. Akira glanced up. Shiki was looking straight ahead. The sun shone against his fair profile, and his hair swayed gently in the wind.

They walked along the shore silently, sand clinging to their feet. There was no one to disturb them here. There was only the water, the wind, and the sand. It was quiet, and peaceful. The wind murmured over the water, and the water whispered against the sand.

Akira wondered if they would be able to enjoy a quiet moment like this again when they returned from their vacation. Maybe disbanding was the right call, if it meant they could have moments to themselves like this, without having to worry about the presence of others.

For the first time since arriving at this resort, Akira didn't mind being here. Being next to Shiki, and walking side by side with him on the shore, away from the rest of the world.

 

✝

♱

 

You lost the future

I lost the past

Together in twilight

Our vow at last

 

“There should be more build up,” Akira said to Shiki. “Just before the chorus. During the fourth verse.”

It was sunset. They were at the beach again today, in the same secluded spot as usual. They'd brought their guitars with them to have a practice session.

The waves were steady and the sky was bright red, bordering on orange and pink and indigo. There were so many shades at once present in the sky. The clouds were dark, spread across the wide view. And the sun was the centerpiece of this view, a bright glow of yellow dipping just below the horizon, meeting the edge of the sea, its reflection shimmering gold over the water.

They continued their session. Akira watched the play of color across the sky as he strummed his guitar, the notes ingrained in his fingers, a somber and wistful but hopeful melody. If this song had a color, it would be the color of the sky at sunset; a harmony of red and orange and yellow, the same way three notes played together would form a chord, pleasant to the ears and pleasing to the eyes.

The sun continued to slowly dip below the horizon, scattering red light everywhere. The red reminded him of Shiki's eyes. Bright and intense; not in a way that was blinding, but in a way that was mesmerizing to look at. Like there was too much light to be confined in one place, and that was why it was spreading everywhere, dispersing across the sky in these brilliant shades of red and crimson and scarlet.

Just like Shiki's eyes. That was the kind of red Akira saw in them. A light that couldn't be contained. A light formed from one's will; the determination to follow a single path. Akira could be lost in the shadows, up until the moment Shiki turned his gaze on him, and then he'd see himself. Reflected in Shiki's red eyes, the same light that was in them. A path and will of his own to follow.

They were at the chorus now, the climax of the song. Shiki's voice rose above the blowing wind and rolling waves. There was something beautiful and raw about the way his natural vocals sounded against the backdrop of these elements. Akira played the corresponding notes for the melody, his fingers strumming the strings. The notes drifted over the shore, meeting the waves that were spreading thin against the sand.

Akira didn't want this moment to end. He didn't want the song to be over, for his fingers to stop playing, for the sun to set. But the end came anyway, and as Shiki's voice quieted, so too did the sound of their guitars. All that was left was the wind, and the low whoosh of the waves.

The sun was almost gone. There was only a sliver of its light left on the horizon, and its shimmer was dimming on the surface of the sea. The red in the sky was already disappearing, replaced by the incoming shades of indigo and deep blue; the colors of twilight.

Akira exhaled. "…We should head back," he said. "It's getting dark."

Shiki didn't reply, and it was hard to discern his expression in the darkness, but Akira could see Shiki reaching for his guitar case. They put away their guitars and packed up their stuff.

The two of them walked along the shoreline. Akira stared out at the sea. It looked a lot different than how it did during the day. Without the sun, the water took on the shade of one color; midnight blue, and the waves were cast in shadows. The sand looked dark beneath their feet, lacking any glimmer, and everything seemed somber.

Akira cast his gaze on Shiki's back. Shiki was walking in front of him, his gait confident as ever.

This song… was probably going to be the last one he and Shiki composed together as Two Crosses.

Because he was going to leave the band after this.

He'd been thinking about it. And Akira had realized that if he stayed, it would just make it harder for Shiki to pursue his goal of becoming a renowned rockstar. If he stayed, people would only care about their relationship and not their music. Shiki would have a hard time being taken seriously as a professional musician and getting his music promoted if all the media ever talked about was his personal life.

That was why… he had to leave.

It wasn't like he was that passionate about playing the guitar. It was just something he'd picked up one day, found that the fundamentals came naturally to him, and decided to do as a hobby to pass the time. He'd always assumed he would stop playing one day in the future; he just didn't know when.

But being in a band was different. Being with Shiki was… different. Akira didn't know what it was that made playing the guitar feel different when he was with Shiki. He just knew that he liked being with him. And admittedly, he also liked Shiki's voice. Not just when Shiki was singing, but also when he was talking, or humming, or laughing, or… whispering against his skin.

Shiki was different from him. He was different from everyone. He had this inherent quality to his music that drew people in. His music was intense and raw and magnetic, but it could be subdued at times as well, and his determination and passion shone through the notes he played and the lyrics he sang. He had a goal, a path he wanted to pursue, a purpose.

Shiki could probably even make it big solo, if he put his mind to it. He didn't need Akira by his side.

So it was fine if he left.

Akira's feet stopped in the sand.

"Shiki."

Shiki turned back to look at him.

"Do you think… we'll still be able to keep playing as a band?"

"Why wouldn't we?" Shiki replied, not even taking a moment to think about it. Then he said, "Don't ask unnecessary questions."

That was apparently all he had to say on the matter, because he started walking again afterward.

Akira hid a smile by lowering his face and looking down at the sand.

"Yeah." It really was a pointless question to ask. "I guess so."

 

✝

♱

 

It was a few days later that they finally finished composing the song.

Akira pressed the stop button on his phone to end the recording. He exhaled, feeling the tension release from his fingers. It was just a demo, and they would record the actual version for public release once they were back home and had access to a recording studio, but for now, it was useful to have this on hand in case they ever needed to refer to it. There were still about two weeks left in their vacation until they would finally go back home.

Akira looked up from his phone after saving the recording. Shiki was putting his guitar away. Akira got up from the bed and put his guitar away in its case too. Then he sat back down on the bed and looked out the glass panels where the view of the balcony was. It was late in the afternoon, but the sky was still bright blue with wispy clouds.

He felt… weird. He should feel more satisfied and fulfilled that the song was finally done, but Akira just felt empty that it was over.

They'd finally finished it.

Their last song.

He still hadn't broken the news yet to Shiki. Now was probably the time to do so.

"Shiki."

Shiki looked in his direction.

"There's something I have to tell you."

Shiki approached the edge of the bed and sat next to him. He looked at Akira with an unreadable expression on his face and remained silent. He'd probably picked up on the serious tone of the conversation, considering how he was waiting for Akira to speak instead of telling him to stop stalling.

Akira took a deep breath. "I'm thinking about leaving the band."

"No."

"No?" Akira's brows raised at Shiki's immediate response. Shiki hadn't even taken the time to consider his words before outright shutting him down. "You haven't even listened to what I have to say."

"I don't need to," Shiki said, still in that uncompromising tone of voice. "You're not leaving."

Akira exhaled. So he was going to be like that.

"You can't stop me," Akira said, his voice firm.

Shiki's expression tightened. There was a cold, harsh sheen in his eyes. He leaned in. "You're mine." He put his hand on the bottom of Akira's shirt and lifted it so that his abdomen was exposed. "Did you forget about this?"

Akira tensed as he felt a pull on his navel. He glanced down at where Shiki's fingers were touching him. It was the piercing Shiki had gotten him as a gift for his birthday a few months ago. He'd said at the time that it was proof Akira belonged to him, although Akira wasn't sure if he meant that in terms of being bandmates or… something else.

Akira let out a sigh. "Just because I'm leaving the band doesn't mean I'm leaving you." His voice was quiet. "…It just means that we won't play together anymore."

Shiki's expression conveyed nothing. "Is that what you want, or is that what you think I want?"

Akira's jaw remained closed. He couldn't answer that question.

Shiki's gaze was fixed on him. "Why are you leaving?" he finally asked.

"Two Crosses was originally your idea," Akira said. "Everything about the band represents your vision. The music, the lyrics, the song titles, the album covers." Akira exhaled. "…I'm not necessary to the band. You can always find another guitarist to take my spot."

Nothing he said was untrue. Shiki was the one who'd spurred the ridiculous idea on him to start their own band back when they were still in high school. Akira hadn't been interested at first, but he was eventually roped into it anyway as Shiki kept setting him up to perform gigs with him. He'd always assumed Shiki would end up replacing him with someone else; someone more impassioned and talented than him, but that never happened. They stuck to being a two-man band and somehow Akira found himself being in the permanent position of a guitarist.

Shiki was the one who'd built up the identity of the band into what it is now, while Akira just followed him in the shadows. Shiki would continue on his path just fine, even if Akira was no longer there with him.

There was a silence that lingered. Shiki's gaze still held that cold, stony sheen, and Akira was braced for more objections from Shiki.

Instead, Shiki said, "Turn around."

Momentarily, Akira was caught off guard. Those were the kind of words Shiki usually said in… another context, and they definitely weren't about to do that while they were in the middle of having this important conversation.

"Are you trying to change the subject?" Akira asked.

Shiki sighed, sounding annoyed even though he was the one who was making this more needlessly difficult than it had to be. "Just do it."

Akira eyed him, and then he slowly turned to sit the other way. He didn't know what Shiki was trying to do, but he sensed Shiki coming up closer behind him on the bed. A few seconds later, Akira felt something cold around his neck, and he glanced down to see Shiki putting a necklace on him. One of Shiki's cross necklaces, to be exact.

Akira tensed. "What are you doing?"

"I'm giving you this," Shiki replied.

Akira was in disbelief. "Why?"

Shiki clasped the necklace behind Akira's neck and lowered his hands. "Where do you think the name of the band comes from?"

Akira turned around to face Shiki again and carefully regarded him. He wasn't sure what Shiki was getting at. "Obviously from you," Akira said. Shiki was the one who'd come up with the name of the band, without asking for any input from Akira. Akira hadn't cared though, because it was just a name and names didn't mean anything.

"That's only half of it," Shiki said. When Akira gave him a confused look, Shiki pulled him in by the shoulder so that Akira's head was tucked against the crook of his neck. "Two Crosses was formed by two members," Shiki explained. "Not one. That's why it's named that way."

Akira let those words sink in while his face was hidden in Shiki's neck. He'd never realized it, simply because he'd never bothered to ask Shiki what the name of their band meant, or where it came from. He'd always assumed, without really thinking about it, that Shiki had named the band after himself…

Akira looked down at the cross necklace around his neck. He moved his hand up to touch it. The metal was cold and it glinted under the sunlight that was spilling into the room. As his fingers traced the surface of it, Akira could feel the raised bumps from the design embossed on it.

Akira lifted his head from the crook of Shiki's neck to get a proper look at Shiki's face. Shiki was gazing at him with his usual impassive expression, but there was a vague hint of something more in his eyes. His eyes looked… soft against the light. The red in them seemed to take on a certain shine, gleaming like how the sea water would on a sunny day; the play of color, everchanging.

His eyes really were the color of the sunset.

Shiki pulled Akira in closer with both arms. Akira's breath stilled. He felt Shiki's hands on his back, and there was warmth between their chests. Akira let himself fall deeper into the hold. He let the tension in him melt away. His arms slowly came to wind around Shiki's back, and he hid his face in Shiki's shoulder.

For a while, all he could hear and feel was Shiki's steady breathing against him. Then Akira pulled back, and he lifted his face from Shiki's shoulder to look at him. Shiki was still wearing that imperceptibly soft look in his eyes.

Akira didn't let himself hesitate. He leaned forward and pressed a soft, light kiss on Shiki's lips. He felt awkward doing it; Shiki was the one who usually initiated their kisses, and Akira had no clue how to naturally connect their lips together; not in the way Shiki did—confident, demanding, a little forceful, but raw and intense, just like his music, and just as electrifying. But Akira tried anyway.

The kiss only lasted a few seconds because Akira pulled his head back too soon, but then Akira realized that it wasn't so awkward after all. And it seemed just natural for Shiki to lean in and connect their lips again, in a soft and wet and slow kiss.

And later, Akira would remember the feel of the bed against his back. He would remember the taste of Shiki's mouth on his, the heat of their skin sliding together, the sound of Shiki's low breaths against his own, and the warmth of their fingers, intertwined, caught in the shade of the room, the glow of sunlight softened by the drawn curtains.

 

✝

♱

 

"Shiki."

"What now?"

They were lying in bed under the covers. Akira had his head laid over Shiki's shoulder, while Shiki had an arm wrapped around him. Their shirts were left forgotten somewhere on the bed, or maybe even the floor. On his chest, Akira felt the cold imprint of the cross necklace against his skin.

"There's something else I want to say to you."

Shiki remained silent, but Akira knew he was listening. He could hear Shiki's breaths, even and slow, like the steady tide of water, coming and going.

Akira breathed in.

"I want to stay by your side," he said quietly, in the dim light of the room. For once, using his words felt natural.

He felt Shiki's hand around his shoulder tighten. And he heard the rustle of Shiki's hair against the pillow as Shiki turned his head. Shiki pressed his face into Akira's hair; breathed against it, his lips warm.

"Then stay," Shiki murmured.

Akira's lips formed a small smile. He hid part of his face in Shiki's shoulder. "…Yeah."

 

✝

♱

 

Two weeks went by faster than expected.

They spent the remainder of their vacation exploring what the resort had to offer. There were lots of things to do, Akira realized, if he took the time to slow down and see what was really there in his surroundings.

They visited the beach often. It was Akira's favorite spot. They would go down there with their guitars and play, enjoying the sea breeze and the warm sun and the rush of the waves against the shore.

They went there at different times of the day. Akira knew what the sea looked like when dawn was just about to rise now, or when the moon was glowing above the horizon, and all the quiet moments in between. His favorite time to visit the beach, however, was when the sun was setting, and the water was shimmering under the bright, red haze of light.

Today was their last day at the resort. They planned to go to the beach again for the last time, but before that, they intended to check out a shopping mall. Shiki was holding an umbrella in his hand. His other hand was settled around Akira's shoulder. They were walking close together so that they could fit under the umbrella.

It wasn't even raining or anything like that. Shiki had taken to carrying an umbrella with him around every time they went outside, just so they could have some shade from the sun. Akira suspected it was because Shiki didn't want him getting another sunburn. The timing was too convenient to be a coincidence, but of course, Shiki said it was just for himself.

Akira didn't believe it. Otherwise Shiki wouldn't be pulling him back in by the shoulder every time Akira strayed too far away from the umbrella's shade.

They stopped in front of the entrance to the shopping mall. Akira's eyes trailed upward, taking in the sight of the building. Sunlight gleamed off its reflective glass windows, and the interior glow of the lights were visible from outside. Shiki closed the umbrella and they entered the mall.

The chill of the air conditioned building was an instant relief from the scorching heat of the weather. Akira felt beads of sweat slide down his face and neck and he wiped them away with the back of his hand, or at least tried to. His skin still felt clammy with sweat. It took a few minutes for him to fully cool off and feel comfortable again.

The mall was actually quite busy, and a lot of the noise from people chattering grew to a din because of the wide space and high ceiling. There were apparently three levels inside the shopping mall, according to the map directory.

They walked around. There was natural light filtering in from the glass-paneled ceiling and windows, and the sleek surface of the flooring reflected the ambient lights indoors. Akira glanced around, looking at all the signs and store names. They entered some of the stores and did some window shopping, but ended up not buying anything.

They were just about to leave the store they were in and look for the food court when Akira suddenly felt Shiki's hand sliding around his own to hold in a firm grip. Akira glanced beside him at Shiki, wondering what he was up to, but Shiki just kept his gaze pointed straight ahead, his expression revealing nothing.

Akira looked away. If Shiki wasn't going to say anything, then Akira wouldn't either.

The shopping mall was bustling with people, and as the two of them weaved their way through the crowd and toward one of the escalators leading up to the third level, Akira realized why Shiki had opted to hold his hand. It was so they wouldn't get separated.

Akira curled his hand around Shiki's. Shiki's hand was warm against his own, and even when they were riding the escalator and standing still, waiting out the slow ascension, Shiki didn't let go of his hand. Once they reached the top of the escalator, they followed the signs that pointed in the direction of the food court.

The food court itself was wide and packed with people who were already seated and eating. The seating area was surrounded by numerous stalls, all serving different kinds of food. Akira walked around with Shiki, and the two of them looked over the menus from different stalls, before eventually deciding on eating rice curry. Akira stood in line waiting to order while Shiki went to find a table.

After placing his order, Akira stood off to the side with a ticket in his hand that had his order number on it. Leaning against the wall with his arms folded, he surveyed the food court, looking for Shiki. It wasn't hard to find him. His all-black outfit stuck out amongst all the people sitting down. Shiki was seated at a table with an empty chair across from him, but he wasn't alone. He was apparently conversing with a woman who was standing at his table.

Akira watched on. He couldn't see Shiki's face from this angle, but he caught a glimpse of Shiki's profile when Shiki accepted a pen and wrote something down.

Akira glanced away. He wasn't sure why he was even invested in the interaction. It was just… surprising to see Shiki talking to strangers for once instead of ignoring them or brushing them off.

Akira heard the order number on his ticket being called and he leaned off the wall and walked up to the counter. He was given a tray that had two plates of curry on it, along with two bottles of water and two sets of utensils. Akira glanced in Shiki's direction. The woman was gone, and Shiki was sitting alone.

Akira walked over to where Shiki was sitting. Shiki glanced up, meeting his gaze before Akira even reached the table. Akira set the tray down and pulled out the chair to sit across from Shiki.

They'd both ordered the same thing so it didn't matter which plate they took. Akira took the plate that was closest to him. The plate had white rice on one side, curry on the other, and split down the middle was a fried pork cutlet that had been chopped into slices.

The food was still steaming and letting out a warm aroma. Akira took a few bites. The curry was slightly spicy but rich in flavor, while the rice was soft, and the cutlet was crispy. Akira felt his skin warm up from the hot temperature of the food as he ate.

"Earlier, you were talking to someone," Akira said. It wasn't the smoothest way of bringing up the topic, but Akira had never bothered learning how to be tactful with his words, and he wasn't about to start now.

Shiki paused, his eyes lifting from his plate to meet Akira's. "It was a fan," he said.

A fan… of course. It made sense that Shiki would be recognized, especially in a busy place such as this. So what Shiki signed was probably an autograph.

Shiki looked amused. "Why? Who did you think it was?"

"No one," Akira replied. He took another bite of his curry. He didn't know why he'd even brought the topic up, and over something so small, too. It wasn't like him.

Akira felt Shiki's scrutinizing gaze on him the whole time he chewed. Suddenly, Shiki extended a hand to ruffle Akira's hair, startling Akira out of his thoughts.

"Stop sulking," Shiki said. "You're still mine."

"…I'm not sulking," Akira said. He used his elbow to nudge Shiki's hand off his head. But his chest felt lighter afterward, in a strange sort of way.

After they finished the curry, they decided to order a dessert to split between them. Akira bought a slice of strawberry shortcake at one of the stalls, and also ordered two drinks to go with it—an iced matcha latte for Shiki and a classic milk tea for himself. The slice of cake was packaged up into a small cake box with two forks, and the drinks were ready on the counter a few minutes later.

Akira went back to the table. He set the cake box and drinks down and Shiki used this moment to move his chair closer to Akira's. Akira unboxed the slice of cake and handed one of the plastic forks to Shiki. There was a strip of plastic around the sides of the cake that Akira peeled off, and then they dug in with their forks.

It was sweet, but not overwhelmingly so, and the vanilla cake was light and fluffy, coated in a layer of frosting. The cake slice was small, and between the two of them eating, it didn't take long until there was only the strawberry topping left, cushioned by a dollop of whipped cream. Shiki stuck his fork into the strawberry, but he didn't eat it. Instead he lifted it to Akira's mouth.

Akira stared at him for a few seconds, confused and trying to figure out what Shiki was trying to pull here. But Shiki just tapped the strawberry against Akira's lips. Reluctantly, Akira opened his mouth and ate the strawberry. It was almost too sweet for his palate and Akira nearly grimaced, but he managed to chew and swallow it down without making a face.

They stayed at the table while finishing their drinks. Akira was on his phone, reading through his texts. Motomi had messaged him recently saying he was going to pick them up from the airport terminal tomorrow.

While Akira was busy responding to the text and working out what time they were supposed to meet up at the airport, Shiki moved his chair closer to Akira's. Akira almost didn't notice the arm sliding around his shoulder. He let Shiki pull him in closer. Akira's eyes remained on the phone screen even as he felt Shiki's presence right beside him.

"Akira." His voice was low in Akira's ear.

"What?" Akira finally turned his head to look at him. Then he realized how close Shiki's face was to his own, and Akira leaned his head back. "You're too clo—"

Akira's eyes widened as Shiki leaned his head forward, closing the distance immediately and kissing him. Right there. On the lips. While they were in public. In front of all these people, in the middle of a food court of a bustling shopping mall.

Akira remained very still. His breath was stuck in his throat. He felt Shiki's tongue swipe across his lips, soft and warm. Shiki pulled back afterward, completely unperturbed.

"You had whipped cream there," Shiki said.

Akira breathed slowly, ignoring the way his heart was beating erratically. "There’s people around," he said, aware that he was pointing out the obvious, and doubly aware that it was a futile endeavor to try and dissuade Shiki from kissing him, because it wasn't like Shiki cared about whether or not people saw them kissing in public. The day Shiki concerned himself with what people thought of him would be the day hell froze over.

"You said you didn't mind being kissed," Shiki said.

Akira didn't have a good comeback to that. Somehow Shiki managed to remember Akira's own words and bring them up at the most inconvenient times, if only so he could use them to his own advantage. But there was a difference between kissing outside when nobody was around, and kissing in a populated place like this where there were eyes everywhere.

Shiki continued on, his hand still on Akira's shoulder, "It doesn't matter if they see."

Akira took a few seconds to dwell on it. And then he said, "…You're right. It doesn't." Because it wasn't like they had anything to hide.

He'd already made his decision to stay by Shiki's side. He wasn't going to run or try to hide now.

Akira let his head rest against Shiki's shoulder. His eyes were drawn to the iced matcha latte on the table. The cup was already more than halfway empty.

"That," Akira gestured with a nod of his chin at the latte, "does it taste good?"

Shiki held the drink toward Akira. "Taste it and see for yourself."

Akira put his mouth around the straw and took a sip. It tasted a little watery; some of the ice had diluted the actual flavor of the drink, but it wasn't bad. It had an earthy undertone. Akira wouldn't say he would ever willingly order something like this, but he knew Shiki had a preference for green tea.

"Wanna try mine?" Akira asked, holding up his cup of milk tea. He felt like it was only natural to offer his own drink to Shiki after Shiki let him taste his.

Without a word, Shiki took a sip of the drink that was in Akira's hand. He didn't visibly react to the flavor of it, but it was just black tea so Akira doubted he was offended by the taste or anything.

They finished their drinks and then dumped their trash. By now it was late afternoon. There wasn't anything else to see around here, so they left the shopping mall.

It was a bit of a walk back to the resort. Shiki had his umbrella out again and he was keeping Akira close by his side as they walked. There was a bus that they could take to get back to the resort faster, but Akira found that he preferred walking and breathing in the scent of the far-off sea breeze.

Despite it being late afternoon, it was still hot outside and the sun was glaringly bright against the pale blue sky. There were few clouds out today, and the ones that were visible seemed to take on thin and wispy shapes in the sky. Even with the umbrella's shade, Akira was already starting to sweat, but he didn't mind the heat. He'd grown accustomed to the warm and humid weather, and now it seemed more bearable compared to when he'd first arrived here.

Akira looked around at the scenery. The landscape was unfamiliar compared to what he was used to seeing back in the city. Instead of high-rise buildings clustered together with neon lights and a ton of intersections, there were narrow pathways lined with quaint little shops and trees. The sun shone down on the walls and pavement, painting the streets in an overlay of natural light. If Akira looked to the right, he could see a glimpse of the sea.

The wind blew in from the shore, carrying with it the faint smell of the ocean. When the resort finally emerged in their view, they headed down to the private beach. At the beach, the scent of the sea breeze was stronger; a mix of the wind and ocean waves, fresh and wild. The sand on the shore glittered like stars, and the water gleamed brilliantly, reflecting light off the surface of its ever-changing blue.

They set their stuff down somewhere on the sand and then stepped into the water. The sway of the water was slow, predictable. Their clothes rippled in the wind like the waves. Akira stared out into the sea. Beyond the horizon, there was just blue; soft blue for the sky, and deep blue for the sea.

Shiki's hand was around Akira's wrist. Akira followed his lead, letting Shiki pull him deeper into the water. The sand below their feet started to slope the farther they ventured from the shore, and the water rose to their chests.

And then the sand disappeared, and there was nothing below their feet.

The water was cool and refreshing. The sweat that'd been clinging to Akira's skin was washed off, and Akira felt his clothes weighing down on his skin, but he didn't really care about getting them wet. He could always just dry them later.

It was a strange sensation, not being able to stand on anything and just feeling the depthless drag of water below his feet, but Akira brushed off his unease and slowly swam deeper into the water with Shiki. He was getting the hang of it, at least. He and Shiki had been going for a swim at the beach every so often, especially since it helped to cool off from the heat.

Akira had struggled a bit the first time they went for a swim at the beach. It was an unfamiliar environment to him, being in the water and feeling like he had no control over his own body against the force of the waves. The only prior experience he had with swimming was the mandatory swim lessons he had to take back in elementary school, and Akira was surprised he even remembered some of what he'd been taught. With practice though, he'd been able to get to the point where he could comfortably stay afloat without feeling the instinctive need to tense up his muscles. Now he could wade through the water with little effort.

Shiki's hand was still around Akira's wrist, pulling Akira along with him in the water. They were neck-deep in the water now, but they weren't that far from the shore still. The waves were rolling, and Akira felt the constant drag of water against him. Up close, he could see the sunlight splaying over the water and all its ripples, illuminating the sea's crystalline colors.

The waves surged with loud whooshes in Akira's ears, along with the wind. White seafoam crashed against the stray pillars of rocks sticking out of the water. Akira let his body become attuned to the swaying movement of the sea.

At times the water looked blue, and sometimes it looked green, or a mix of both. Akira wondered if it was the sunlight that made it look this way. The water was still clear enough that he could make out the sand and pebbles underneath, despite it being too deep for his feet to touch.

The waves were getting stronger. Akira felt himself being pulled—not just by Shiki's hand, but by the water itself. Akira held onto Shiki's hand with his own firm grip. Shiki's head was still visible above the water. The waves would occasionally roll too high, and Akira would momentarily feel himself getting swept up in the water.

"We probably shouldn't go out this far," Akira said to Shiki. There was a big wave approaching.

"We'll be fine," Shiki said, unconcerned as always.

The wave came closer, traveling fast.

"Shiki—"

It was too late. The wave rose and swept over them, and all Akira saw in his view was the white splash of water before he was submerged underwater. His hearing was dulled, and for a moment, he thought he could make out the vague sound of bubbles. Akira could feel Shiki's hand still in his own, and Akira clutched it harder. Then his head was back above water, and Akira was trying to catch his breath, his hair drenched and cold water dripping down his face.

The wave hadn't been that strong despite how fast it arrived. Akira wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and breathed through his mouth. He could almost taste the flavor of sea salt on his tongue. Akira opened his eyes. The water was placid and smooth again, riding out toward the shore in small ripples.

Shiki was next to him. His own hair was drenched and falling flat against his face, wet locks clinging to his skin. He looked as mesmerizing as he usually did, maybe even more so. The sun illuminated the droplets of water sliding down his pale skin and softened the midnight shade of his hair, casting a sheen over the dark strands.

Akira was still trying to catch his breath, but his breath leapt from his chest to his throat when he suddenly felt Shiki's hands on his back. Instinctively, Akira reached for something to grab onto, which ended up being Shiki's shoulders.

The water was gentle and quiet around them. Akira's breaths slowed as he continued holding onto Shiki. This close, he could feel Shiki's body heat, even with the cold water surrounding them.

Akira stared at him. The sunlight was soft on Shiki's face. It made his red eyes gleam as bright as the shimmering water. There was water dripping down Shiki's face, from his drenched hair down to his slightly parted lips. Akira's eyes were fixed on one stray droplet in particular that lingered on the edge of Shiki's lips.

Akira didn't know who kissed who first. Just that one moment they were staring at each other, their faces close enough for their breaths to catch on each other's lips, and in the next, their mouths were connected, tongues sliding together, lips warm and wet. Water dripped down their hair and skin. Their tongues were coated with the faint taste of the ocean.

The water was cool against their skin, but their mouths were warm. Akira breathed helplessly into the kiss, feeling a shiver in his spine. It was like he was caught in a big wave again, only this time he was being swept up in the force that was Shiki's tongue and the heat of his mouth, and Akira was drowning under this sensation, this inexplicable feeling of being held in Shiki's arms.

When their lips parted, they looked at each other, breathless, and the sunlight was warm and soft between their faces.

 

✝

♱

 

The sun was setting when they finally got out of the water.

They picked up the stuff they'd left on the sand and walked back in the direction of the resort. Grains of sand clung to Akira's wet feet. Water dripped down his hair and clothes. The sun was warm against his skin, chasing away any shivers he might've gotten. Akira took off his shirt briefly to wring it over the water before slipping it back on.

The sun's bright rays were shining across the sea, casting a gold shimmer over the dark blue water. High above the horizon, there were vast swirls of tinted clouds. The sunlit sky was splashed in warm hues of red and orange. Mixed in with these radiant colors was the quiet and cool tone of indigo.

Akira gazed out toward the sun as he and Shiki walked along the shoreline. The bright glare of the sun was almost blinding, but it wasn't harsh enough that he had to look away. He could see the water glistening as it laid itself over the sand, clear and evanescent.

The wind was soft in Akira's hair and against his face. He was walking side by side with Shiki. Their footsteps were light in the sand.

Akira wasn't sure if he would ever tire of this sight. The feeling he got when looking out at the sea like this while the sun was setting and scattering light everywhere, was… hard to put into words. He thought back to the song he composed with Shiki. He thought about how he felt when he was with Shiki; being around him, beside him, next to him. He thought about Shiki looking at him with those sunlit eyes; how, the moment after they'd finished their first ever show together, Shiki had looked upon him with his piercing red gaze and seen in him what Akira himself couldn't. The beating of his heart, alive like the waves at sea.

That… was how he'd describe the feeling he got when he looked at the sunset like this.

"Akira."

Akira's gaze shifted to Shiki. Shiki was a few steps ahead of him. He was looking back at Akira.

"What are you thinking about?" Shiki asked.

Akira didn't even realize he'd stopped walking. "Nothing, really," Akira said, starting to walk again. When he caught up with Shiki, he said, "I was just thinking this would be the last time we got to see the sunset like this."

"We can still see the sunset at home," Shiki said, not dismissively or unkindly, but matter-of-factly.

Akira shook his head. "It's… different here." He gazed out toward the sea, at the sun's reflection on the rippling water and the soft sheen on the waves. Akira didn't know how to explain why he felt that way.

Shiki turned his head to look at the sea with him. He was silent. The sun was shining softly against his fair skin.

Then Shiki said, "We'll be able to see it again next time."

"Next time?"

Shiki's gaze drifted back to Akira's face. "When we go on vacation again." His voice was barely audible over the wind and the sound of the waves.

Akira held his gaze. Shiki's eyes were redder than the sunset. "…Sure," Akira said. His lips were shaped in the ghost of a smile.

They walked in silence together. As the light from the sun slowly dimmed, the sand and the waves darkened. The water whooshed quietly against the shore, slow and hypnotizing and melodic.

They trailed along the shoreline with intertwined hands, leaving footprints in the sand that were soon washed away by the water.

 

✝

♱

 

The next morning, they checked out of the resort.

Half an hour later, after a quiet cab ride, Akira and Shiki were standing in front of an airport with their luggage in hand and guitars slung on their back. Just before they boarded their flight, they picked up some coffee from a Stardogs that was conveniently located inside the airport terminal.

After a three-hour jet ride that felt longer than it seemed, they finally arrived at their destination. The local time was around one in the afternoon. Motomi was already there waiting inside the terminal to greet them. His face was a familiar sight, and Akira realized that he'd actually kind of missed Motomi's presence, even though he hardly ever regarded Motomi with anything other than bare difference.

"Did you have fun?" Motomi asked as he took Akira's suitcase for him.

Akira offered a smile. "Yeah."

Motomi paused. He looked surprised by Akira's response. Motomi studied him with a curious expression but Akira didn't feel like closing off on him.

"Hmm… let me guess. Something good happened during your vacation?" Motomi asked.

The smile on Akira’s face softened but didn’t fully disappear. "You could say that."

Motomi glanced down at the necklace Akira was wearing, and then his eyes went back up to Akira's face. His expression brightened. "That so?" He patted Akira on the shoulder. "Well I’m glad to hear.”

Akira was about to catch up with Shiki, who was already a few steps ahead of them, but then he remembered something.

"Ossan, I almost forgot." He rummaged through his duffle bag. "Here." Akira held out a bag of the Solids he'd bought from one of the gift shops at the resort.

"You got some souvenirs for me?" Motomi sounded and looked genuinely surprised that Akira went out of his way to do that.

Akira raised a brow at him. "…Why do you look so surprised?" He was starting to feel slightly offended.

Motomi grinned at him. "No reason at all." He took the bag from Akira's hand. "Thanks for the souvenirs. Now come on, let's go home. You must be tired."

He wasn't; not really, but Akira did want to go home. It'd been a month, and while he'd ended up enjoying his time at the resort and immersing himself in the seaside scenery, nothing could really beat having a studio at home and being able to play in a space that had great sound quality.

As they neared the exit of the airport, there were already signs of paparazzi hanging around. They had their cameras in hand, ready to take photos. Akira searched for his sunglasses in his duffle bag and quickly slipped them on. Shiki had already done the same.

The flashes and clicks started before Akira and Shiki even made it outside the terminal. At least there was security nearby. Once they were outside though, Akira saw the large crowd that awaited them.

The crowd wasn't filled with just paparazzi, but fans too. Akira could see several fans holding up signs in support of the band.

And then the frenzy started.

There was pushing and shoving and screaming. Akira stuck close to Shiki, bracing himself for the onslaught of aggressive paparazzi and overzealous fans. No wonder security had been called in beforehand. They definitely weren't going to make it to the car without some help.

There were cameras being shoved in his and Shiki's faces. Akira pointedly turned his face away from them. Fortunately he had his sunglasses to shield his eyes from the bright flashes, but his ears were exposed to the barrage of questions from nosy paparazzi and loud screams from fans.

Akira felt himself being pushed along by bodyguards, who were slowly but surely directing him and Shiki toward a car. It was a tedious process, and more than once Akira thought he was going to get swept away by the crowd. He couldn’t even see where he was going; just felt his way through.

When they almost made it to the car, there was an obnoxious guy with a mic, acting like he was a reporter or something. His voice was loud but slightly muffled as he spoke into the mic.

"Hey, Il Re! I just want to ask the question that everyone is dying to know the answer to: are you and Lost dating?"

Shiki's expression was impossible to decipher because of the sunglasses he was wearing, but he turned his head in the direction of the man holding the mic. Then, Shiki took off his sunglasses. There was a discernible spike in tension as the crowd quieted into a hush to hear his answer, and Akira prickled with unease too. Shiki never took his sunglasses off when paparazzi were around, so what was he planning?

Shiki turned to face Akira next. He removed the sunglasses on Akira's face. Akira just stood there, confused and wondering why Shiki was stalling when the car was right there.

Then he felt Shiki's hand on his waist as Shiki pulled him in. The next thing Akira knew, Shiki was kissing him.

Akira's eyes widened, and it was like Shiki had just stolen the breath out of his lungs.

There was a chorus of shrill screams all around them while several camera shutters clicked rapidly, but Akira could hardly hear them. The noise was all muffled by the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his chest and the blood rushing to his ears. Akira squeezed his eyes shut.

Everyone was watching. Akira didn't know what to do. His face felt like it was on fire. The summer heat wasn't helping. Out of reflex, he lifted his hand to the front of Shiki's body, but his mind wasn't working properly, so instead of pushing Shiki away, he ended up clutching Shiki's shirt.

It was a deep kiss. Shiki's head was angled downward while Akira's head was tilted back. Akira couldn't breathe. His heart was beating too fast for his lungs. Shiki's mouth was wet and forceful and Akira could do nothing but move his tongue against Shiki's.

When the kiss finally broke, Akira took in a big breath of air. Shiki's hand was still curled at his waist, holding him close. The crowd was quiet. People were watching, waiting.

Then Shiki smoothly, calmly, grabbed the mic from the man who'd originally asked the provocative question, and said in a low voice, "Does this answer your question?"

The screams started again.

Everything was a blur after that. Akira barely registered Shiki holding his arm and leading him to the car. The door to the car was already open, courtesy of one of the bodyguards, and Shiki made Akira go inside first.

Once Shiki was inside with him, the car door was closed shut. Motomi was in the driver's seat, starting up the engine.

"You…" Akira fumbled for words. He didn't even know where to begin.

"I what?" Shiki sounded unapologetic.

Akira huffed and turned his head the other way. "…Never mind."

Motomi tactfully remained silent during the whole interaction, his years of wisdom probably telling him to keep out of this. He didn't even turn on the radio.

Akira propped his guitar case upright in the car. Then he folded his arms and slumped into the car seat. Part of him wanted to sink into it and disappear, but that wasn't going to happen, so he just settled for staring out the window.

Damn Shiki. It was all his fault.

Akira spent the entirety of the car ride dealing with an incessant pounding in his chest.

 

✝

♱

 

Akira checked the strings on his guitar to make sure it was tuned properly. He was in a recording studio with Shiki. They were about to record their new song; the one they'd composed during their vacation. It was going to be their comeback from the hiatus.

It'd been a week since they returned from their vacation. What Akira expected to be a long, drawn-out conversation with Motomi about the future of the band, had actually turned out to be a pretty short and painless talk.

"I don't even need to ask what decision you guys made regarding the band, do I?" Motomi had asked.

"Is it that obvious?" Akira had asked in turn.

A wide grin stretched across Motomi's face. "Yep."

So, that was that. Two Crosses was resuming its band activities after a month-long hiatus.

It was just as Motomi had said. Their sales had actually increased in the last month instead of going down. The old man's intuition was still sharp, it seemed. At least Motomi wasn't the type to rub it in about being right. He did offer a smug look, though, when he showed Akira the data of the band's increased revenue in merchandise sales and royalties.

They had more fans and supporters than ever now. The band was apparently trending all over the internet again, too, because of the stunt Shiki had pulled last week; the one where he'd kissed Akira in front of a whole crowd while there were flashing cameras all around. (It had taken Akira approximately two hours to get over it and talk to Shiki again.) More importantly, the band was fully booked out with shows all the way until the end of the year.

Akira put on his headphones. They were recording the base track first, and then the vocals later. The sound engineers were in another room, but there was a glass barrier between the two rooms that allowed Akira and Shiki to see them, and vice versa.

The sound engineers gave them the signal that everything was ready and good to go. Akira and Shiki shared a glance, and then they began to play.

Akira felt the vibration of the strings against his fingers as he played. The song was completely different from all the ones they'd composed before. The melody was slower, more somber, and it wasn't as heavy or edgy as the style of music they were usually known for.

Akira played each note with purpose. He could hear the sound of his own emotions flowing out through the song's melody, raw and passionate. It was as if his emotions had become tangible in the form of the notes being played.

He finally understood now what Shiki had meant when he said the lyrics weren't uninspiring. Just because the music was different didn't mean it wasn't the passion of Two Crosses. It was still their song.

At the end of their session in the recording studio, they had a song that was mixed and mastered and ready for release.

 

✝

♱

 

"Akira."

"What?"

"Did you finally figure out a title for the song?"

Akira smiled. "Yeah. I'm thinking about calling it…"

 

Are One

Notes:

"Are One" is the song that plays during the credits of Shiki's ED1 in the True Blood version of the game.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Shiki Week 2024