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Taki can tell when something is wrong. It's something he takes immense pride in.
Wrong is a bit of a misnomer for this situation, mostly due to the fact that nothing bad has happened. When he thinks of the word wrong, he thinks of something or someone being incorrect. Unjust, perhaps, or maybe just being mistaken. Either way, technically nothing is wrong, but things aren’t as normal as they usually are, either.
The more Taki thinks about it, though, the more he thinks that something is wrong. Something is up with Harua, and he’s determined to get to the bottom of it.
Harua is changing. Or, he has already changed and Taki only just now noticed it. He isn’t quite sure because Harua has been spending a lot of time on his own, away from Taki and away from the group. Even though they all enjoy their alone time, Taki has a bad feeling about how reclusive Harua’s gotten.
He’s always been a lot more perceptive than other people give him credit for. Sure, Taki enjoys playing the role of the jester, lightening moods and uplifting spirits. He excels at making people laugh, and he takes a lot of pride in doing so. Through every act of humor and facade, however, Taki is just a person who notices things that others don’t.
Perhaps the others do notice it, but none of them have the courage to say anything. To be fair, they’re all overwhelmed, overworked, and inhumanely busy, not just Harua—which Taki can only assume at this point because Harua won’t talk to him for some reason, which is another issue, but one that Taki doesn’t like to think about!
He understands their schedules have been insane for the last few weeks, and the exhaustion is only going to get worse once the tour starts. Taki has never and would never fault the others for focusing on themselves, and to be honest, he knows that he should probably do the same. Despite that, Taki finds himself worrying about everyone else far more than he’d ever worry about himself. These days, he worries about Harua most of all.
Harua has always been a little bit more private than the others, in a way that’s hard to bring any sort of attention to. He separates his idol life from his real life rather well, and that’s something Taki has always been envious of. Yet, there are times such as these where Taki wonders how much control Harua really has over his emotions. Instead of confronting any of them, he detaches himself from what’s going on around him and goes silent.
Taki has a bad habit of doing the same exact thing, and it’s why he finds Harua’s slump so obvious. Maybe it’s not a slump exactly, but something within him has definitely changed. His eyes lack the fire that used to rage within them, back when he wanted to take over the world. The passion which fueled his drive towards stardom has faded, and Taki feels like he’s the only person who notices.
Harua doesn’t hang around after schedules end. He disappears into his bedroom as soon as they get back to the dorm. He doesn’t even share meals with anybody anymore, and Taki worries that he’s barely eating anything. He has disappeared completely under the guise of being tired, and Taki can’t stop thinking about it.
He might be overreacting just a little bit. He’s only worrying so much and overthinking because Harua has completely ghosted him. Taki’s used to the members taking some time for themselves when things get tough, but never like this—never Harua. Harua has cut him out completely, avoiding any conversation and interaction like he’ll die if Taki so much as says hello.
Taki knows that he’s not being fair towards Harua. He’s trying his best to respect whatever he wants, but he’s having a hard time knowing what that is because Harua won’t tell him. He supposes that is as much of a sign as anything towards what he wants, but Taki hates assuming things. He’s left with no choice, forced to assume Harua wants to be left alone, not just by the group, but by Taki specifically.
His assumption is confirmed after he makes the mistake of reaching out to Harua. Taki didn’t expect much, if anything, he just wanted to reassure Harua that he’s allowed to cry on Taki’s shoulder if he needs to. He extended out a hand, only to be met with a reaction that he’s never been faced with before.
To be fair, Taki should have planned better. He had been pestering Harua for a few days leading up to their confrontation, and he picked the worst possible time to talk. They were finishing up a performance shoot, having spent the last three hours re-filming just to get the perfect take. They were all exhausted, and Taki could tell Harua was about to snap. Despite that, he still followed him to the bathroom once filming ended.
Harua was standing by the mirror, holding onto the sink with his gaze fixed on the water pouring out from the faucet. Taki froze by the entrance, letting the door hit his back after it closed. Harua never once looked up, panting like he ran a marathon. Taki felt like a ghost.
“Are you okay?” Taki asked, cautiously stepping forward. He stepped over a trap just to stumble into another one, foot slammed between a beartrap.
Harua shut the faucet off and stood up straight, looking at himself in the mirror. “I’m fine.”
Taki didn’t believe him. He wanted to call him out, perhaps fight a little bit in the pursuit of honesty. He didn’t have it in him, however, and all he could do was weakly surrender with a quiet frown. He tried his best, but something about Harua’s demeanor paired with the far-away look in his eyes made Taki nervous.
“Okay, if you’re sure.” Taki sighed. “I feel like—”
“Just leave me alone.” Harus snapped and whipped his head towards Taki, hissing with far too much venom. “I said I'm fine, Taki. Stop asking and just—let it go.”
Taki winced and his chest tightened as Harua’s voice echoed throughout the empty bathroom, all the air in his lungs forced out of him like he’d been punched. Harua had never raised his voice like that before, never spat out words laced with so much anger and frustration directed at him. Taki wondered if he did something wrong. Perhaps he misread all the signs and ran headfirst into a lion's den of his own creation, and he is forced to deal with the consequences of his actions.
Harua didn’t give Taki any time to respond. He flew past him like a gust of wind, brushing against his shoulder as he left the bathroom. Taki stood there for far too long, wondering why his eyes stung and his heart hurt.
He’s moved on from that, though. A week has passed, and Taki has gotten used to Harua ignoring him at this point. He’s accepted that he’s done something wrong—whatver that might be. Maybe he made Harua uncomfortable, or maybe Harua just needs some space. Realistically, a voice in the back of Taki’s head tells him that it’s not personal and none of this is his fault. They all go through moods from time to time, and just because it’s extremely strange for Harua to completely disappear from his life doesn’t mean that it can’t happen naturally.
Either way, Taki has no idea what’s going on with Harua, but he’s spent far too much time worrying about it. If he starts acting weird, then the other members will notice—if they haven’t already. Taki has a role to play, and he can’t stop just because he’s worried about his friend.
Taki has to admit that it’s getting harder to pretend like everything is fine. Harua won’t even look at him, and it’s making their schedules a little awkward. He’s surprised Kei hasn’t said anything about it, because lord knows he sees through it all. Taki expects Kei to make a joke out of how awkward Harua’s being around Taki in the middle of filming one of these days, but no such joke ever comes. Perhaps he’s taking pity on them, or maybe he’s too tired and somehow lost his ability to notice that kind of thing because of it.
Honestly, all Taki can do is wait. If Harua doesn’t want to talk about it, then Taki won’t force him. Sure, it’s keeping him awake at night and haunting all his dreams and turning them to vivid nightmares, but worse things could happen! At least they’re still in the same group together, and there’s a chance that Harua will forgive Taki for whatever he’s done. He hasn’t lost hope that this is just a phase completely unrelated to him, and it will pass just like all the other phases before it.
The last thing he wants is to annoy Harua any more than he already has. Harua’s words have been spinning around in his head ever since Taki heard them, leaving Taki unsettled and afraid that he might explode on him again when he least expects it.
And so, he waits. He waits for Harua to come to him even if it’ll take what feels like forever. He keeps his head to the ground and tries his best to act normal, continuing to crack jokes and draw attention like his life depends on it.
They’re running through the tour setlist for what feels like the millionth time, trying to build as much stamina as possible before their first concert. Taki’s used to the burning in his muscles, but that doesn’t mean he’s able to deal with it. His lungs are on fire by the third run through, and his feet are killing him. He doesn’t think he can go for a fourth, but after a group vote, the majority want to do it again.
With no other choice, Taki languidly dances through each song. He can barely keep his eyes open, putting in a little effort as possible without getting reprimanded for it. He feels like he’s floating yet being dragged down at the same time, minutes away from collapsing.
Between position changes, Taki trips over his foot and plummets to the floor with too much force, slamming onto his shoulder with a scream. The music stops and Euijoo and Kei run over to him. He feels pathetic, embarrassed and upset while everyone stares down at them.
“I’m okay.” Taki says, carefully sitting up with a wince. He holds onto his shoulder, an intense, throbbing pain shooting straight through his bone right where his arm connects to the socket. “I’m okay, guys.”
“We should call it for today.” Fuma says behind them with a pant. “We’re all exhausted, and we’ll only get hurt if we keep going.”
Kei agrees, holding onto Taki’s wrist as he assesses the damage. “It’s getting late, anyways. That’s enough.”
Taki blinks away the tears in his eyes before they fall, hoping no one notices. He can blame the puffiness of his face on the sweat if anyone asks, but he doesn’t think anyone will. Euijoo and Kei dote on him enough without being overbearing, and everyone else is already halfway out the door by the time Taki gets up.
By the time Taki grabs his things, Kei, Maki, and Harua are the only ones left in the practice room. Taki tries not to be suffocated by Harua’s presence but ultimately fails. Why is he staying around?
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Kei asks, grabbing onto Taki’s shoulder as he gives him a light squeeze. “That looked rough.”
Taki nods, hating the way Maki and Harua stare at him and wait for an answer. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
Kei definitely isn’t convinced, but he can sense when Taki doesn’t want to talk about something. He drops the conversation and runs his hand through Taki’s hair, brushing his bangs out of his face. “Whatever you say, Taki-chan. If you need a kiss to feel better, just ask.”
The walk to the transportation car is quiet. Kei and Maki are talking about something Taki doesn’t have the strength to listen to, and Harua walks by his side in silence. He stares at the ground as his heart beats through his chest, cotton getting caught in his throat while his mind races.
He wonders what Harua’s thinking, and if any of his thoughts are about Taki. It’s the first time he’s lingered around him in a while, and Taki can’t help but wonder what that might mean.
They finally get to the car and shuffle in one after another. Kei and Maki take the front, which leaves a shared seat in the back. Taki glances over at Harua, expecting some sort of pushpack. Nothing ever comes, and Harua climbs in without issue. Taki pauses for a moment and gets a weird look from Kei, which immediately snaps him out of it. He follows after Harua and sits next to him, trying his best not to invade his space as he gets settled.
Taki closes his eyes once the car starts. Maki has his headphones in, and Kei is talking on the phone. Taki finds all the noise calming. The engine, Kei’s voice, the faint sound of Maki’s music. He relaxes into the carseat despite the bundle of nerves sitting next to him.
“Taki,” Harua whispers, breaking through all the noise. He turns his head to face Taki, staring at him with a weird look in his eyes. “Are you okay?”
Taki blinks, unsure of what to say. It’s the first time they’ve spoken in a while, and Harua’s using the opportunity to check in on Taki. His heart swells with a strange feeling, one that he quickly shoves down as soon as it bubbles up.
“I’m okay.” Taki replies in the same hushed tone. “It stings a little, but I’ll be alright.”
Harua frowns, glancing at Taki’s shoulder. He reaches out for a moment before pausing, taking a moment to think whether or not he should touch him. He decides to after what feels like forever, placing his hand on Taki’s thigh and gripping onto it with so much force that Taki almost squeaks.
“Be careful next time.” Harua runs his thumb back and forth over Taki’s thigh, staring down at the spot where his hand grips onto.
Taki swallows hard, eyes glued to Harua’s profile. He won’t meet Taki’s gaze, and he isn’t sure if that’s a good or bad thing. Taki doesn’t know where else to look, and he doesn’t know what else to say. He’s surprised by whatever Harua is offering him, and the last thing he wants is to squander the opportunity when he isn’t sure if he’ll get another one.
“Are you mad at me?” Taki blurts out before he realizes that this isn’t a conversation they should be having within earshot of the others. He’s never been the best at whispering, and he wouldn’t be surprised if Kei could focus on his phone call and eavesdrop on whatever Harua and Taki talk about.
He can’t help himself, though. “I mean, did I do something wrong?”
Harua genuinely looks surprised that Taki said anything at all. His eyes widen and his mouth drops open before he composes himself, giving Taki’s thigh a squeeze as he takes a deep breath.
“I—I’m not mad.” Harua says, a little bit quieter. “Let’s talk about this later.”
Let’s talk about it when we’re alone, Taki assumes. He finally turns away from him and stares out the window, a newfound anxiety blooming in his chest the closer they get to the dorm.
The car comes to a stop and they all get out one after another. Taki drags his feet down the sidewalk and follows Kei with his head turned towards the ground. He waits for a sign of some sort, a chance for Harua and him to talk. It doesn’t come until they enter the building and make their way towards the elevator.
“I think I left my headphones in the car.” Harua suddenly says as Kei and Maki step onto the elevator. He glances at Taki, then back at the others. “I’m going to get them really quick. Taki, can you come with me?”
Taki looks between Kei and Harua, almost like he’s asking for permission. Rationally, he knows that he doesn’t have to, but for some reason he feels weird about lying.
Kei doesn’t seem interested in entertaining their antics, and sees through it in his own way. He yawns with a shrug and presses on one of the elevator buttons. “Don’t stay out too late.”
Maki laughs as the elevator door closes. Harua and Taki are left alone, staring at each other as they wait for someone to speak first. The apartment foyer is empty aside from the two of them, and they’re standing only a few feet apart, but Taki feels oceans away from him.
“I’m not mad at you.” Harua finally says, fidgeting with the zipper of his sweatshirt.
Taki takes a good look at his face in the light, noticing every blemish painting his face and just how deep his eyebags are. Harua looks exhausted in a way that Taki never realized he could be, face dragged down and stained with an undecipherable emotion that makes Taki sad.
“Then what’s wrong?” Taki asks, swallowing all his apprehension and fear. He hopes he doesn’t sound as nervous as he feels. “Did I do something? You’ve been ignoring me for so long now. It’s okay if I did, I’ll apologize. I just don’t know what it could be.”
Harua sighs, shaking his head. “You haven’t done anything. It’s not you, Taki. I’m just tired.”
He supposes that much is obvious. Harua looks like he might disappear at any moment, eyes glossed over and hollow. Taki wants to reach out and pull Harua into a hug. He wants to remind him that he doesn’t have to suffer alone. He isn’t sure if he’s still allowed to do something like that, so he does nothing instead.
“I'm sorry.” Harua suddenly says, voice cracking. “I’m sorry for ignoring you. I’m sorry about last week, in the bathroom. I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you. You haven’t done anything wrong. I’m sorry that I’ve been so weird, and treating you so badly lately. I’m just…”
Harua’s voice trails off. He shrugs with a weird laugh, a sound halfway between a chuckle and a cry. Before he loses his composure, he reaches out and presses the elevator button. Taki studies his face, trying to look for some sort of answer or sign that he’s missing. Perhaps there are no hidden truths, and the reality of the situation is that Harua is simply overwhelmed and he doesn’t know how to handle that.
Taki is relieved that he hasn’t done anything, at least. Rationally, he knew that already, but it calms most of his worries all the same. He still can’t completely relax because he has no idea how to help Harua, which unsettles him more than anything else. He doesn’t know what he needs, or how to be there for him.
However, maybe that’s all he can do. Maybe that’s all Harua needs, a reminder that he doesn’t have to struggle alone. Taki will be anything Harua needs, but he just needs to ask for it.
“It’s okay.” Taki grins, taking a step closer. “I get it. We all go through hard times. I understand.”
Taki slides his fingers between Harua’s before he can say anything else. He takes a deep breath and uses all the confidence left in his body to clasp their hands together, just like old times. Immediately, Harua looks much more at ease. He glances down at their hands, then back up to Taki’s face. He offers him a shy, reserved smile, and Taki thinks that’s enough.
The elevator door opens and they both step in. Their hands stay locked together the entire time. Taki glances between Harua’s face and their joint reflections in the elevator doors, unable to stay still.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Harua whispers. “I don’t even know how to explain it.”
“Do you want to try?” Taki asks.
Harua sighs, shaking his head. “I might cry if I start talking about it, which is the last thing I want right now. I just feel like sometimes, it’s hard to know who I am under all these masks.”
“What do you mean?” Taki prompts, even though he has a pretty good idea what he’s referring to.
“The person I want to be is different from the person the fans want me to be, and that’s different from the person I actually am. Recently, I feel like I’m losing myself in this job, and I don’t know how to see through it all.”
Taki frowns. Harua’s words definitely resonate with him deeply, but he never realized that Harua struggled so much with balancing each version of himself. He always thought Harua had control over his thoughts and emotions, but he supposes that was just a facade, as well.
Despite being the same age, Taki always felt like Harua had it all figured out before him. He may have some childish tendencies, but they usually only ever come out when they are in front of the cameras. Behind it all, Harua always presents himself in a mature, thoughtful way that Taki envies.
He can’t imagine having any sort of wisdom or advice that might grant Harua any sort of solace, but he decides to try anyway.
“For me, I feel like the answer isn’t simple. I know sometimes it can feel like you’re pretending to be someone you’re not, but for me, I’ve always thought a little bit differently. Even though I’m acting as a different version of myself in front of the fans, I still think I’m being myself. Every version of myself that I project to the world is still me, but just a different side of me. I don’t think it’s necessarily as black and white as you’re thinking, Harua.”
Harua tightens his grip on Taki’s hand. “But which version of yourself is the main one, then?”
“The one that I want to be. The one that’s holding your hand, right now. The one that will get in front of the cameras and make a fool of himself just to make everyone laugh. The one that makes me happiest. That’s the best version of myself I can be—and the one I think is the most like me.”
Harua glances at Taki. “What if I don’t know who or what that might look like? What if I don’t know which version of myself makes me happiest?”
Taki smiles, leaning a little closer. “Then you just need to take some time to find it. Try what you think is natural, or maybe what feels unnatural. Do whatever you need to until you find what makes you feel most comfortable. Be silly, or serious, or whatever. Whatever makes you happy.”
“I feel like it’s hard to change when everyone already has an image of you in your head.” Harua sighs. “I feel like I can never break out of that cage.”
“You never will if you don’t try.” Taki rubs his thumb against Harua’s knuckle. “I know it can feel impossible. I mean, people still look at me and treat me like I’m the same fourteen year old I was over six years ago. Yet, I still try to break that image. Whether or not it’s successful… I blame everyone else for still treating me like a baby.”
Harua laughs, and it hits Taki how much he missed hearing that. He never wants Harua to be sad ever again, definitely not in a way that dims his shine.
“I don’t think they’ll ever stop seeing you like that. Not if Kei has anything to say about it.” Harua says.
“A part of me still likes it sometimes.” Taki shrugs. “I’ll always be a little special.”
After what feels like an eternity, the elevator finally stops and the doors slowly open. They share another glance, and Taki notices that Harua’s eyes shine a little brighter. His face isn’t dragged down by so much baggage, and Taki has to stop himself from breaking out in song and dance.
“You are special.” Harua suddenly says, turning his body to face him. “Thank you, Taki. For everything. For understanding, and not giving me shit for being a terrible friend, even though I deserve it.”
Taki shakes his head. “You’re not a terrible friend, you’re just going through something hard. I hope you realize that you don’t have to deal with it alone. Even if you don’t want to talk about it, you can still always come to me. We can talk about whatever, or do anything. I just… I don’t want you to be alone.”
“I will. I’ll talk to you.” Harua meekly nods, bringing their hands up to his face.
He glances at the spot where their hands connect and presses a soft kiss to the top of Taki’s knuckles. Taki’s heart skips a beat, and his face breaks out in an uncontrollable smile. Harua quickly mirrors him, looking a little shy.
“Goodnight, Taki. Try to get some rest.” Harua lets go of Taki’s hand and steps out of the elevator. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He waves goodbye as the doors close, and Taki is left standing all alone. He stares down at his hand, a tingling sensation lingering underneath his skin at the spot where Harua’s lips touched. He takes a deep breath and presses the button to go to his floor, closing his eyes as he leans against the side of the elevator.
Once Taki steps into his dorm, he finds Kei and Jo sharing a meal at the kitchen table. He throws his sweatshirt onto the coat hanger and drags his feet over to them, leaning against the back of Jo’s chair with a yawn.
“Any luck with his headphones?” Kei asks from the other side of the table.
Taki nods. “They weren’t that hard to find.”