Archive of Our Own

For someone who grew up between velvet curtains and magnificent voices, Kou Minamoto didn't have the appreciation for opera one would expect from him. To put it lightly, he found it okay. He didn't hate it, didn't hate any of the people whose voices he heard, either. But, even if, every function, there was a seat free for him to use, he'd skip it. And he doesn't regret it, not one bit, as that's exactly what brought him to Mitsuba.

One night, while wandering the halls of the Opera house, so young that may as well be his earliest memory, not afraid one bit of the phantom rumored to wander those same paths but expecting him, he found in his way something better.

A kid his age, no taller than him but so different altogether. Someone he hadn't ever seen before that night, but someone he kept seeing day after day since then.

Mitsuba and him grew up together, grew up close and grew up in the opera house and its surroundings. Kou didn't have to be a genius to see that, as much as Mitsuba claimed to hate the place, he never made a move to go away.

Then, Kou found a better excuse to wander the halls when singers and songstresses and ballerinas all gained their well-deserved praises. Not only because Mitsuba and him got along so well the former would quietly ask for Kou's hand to hold onto as they walked the phantom's domain, but because, when calm and when bathed by the faint moonlight; outside, where no one was watching from a hidden ledge on the ceiling, he would hum.

The songs ingrained in his mind as much as they did in Kou's, but the latter never felt the need to mimic them, nor had he the gift of making them sound good. Mitsuba, however, did.

He would hum, and when he was comfortable enough with that, he would (low, low and shaky) try and say the words as the singers did. It was a mess, at first, Kou was sure, as he had been exposed to means to get that knowledge since he first opened his eyes to the world, but he kept his mouth shut and listened to Mitsuba. Slowly but surely, he mastered song after song and never once forgot a single word (or so he said, but Kou could hear him curse, loud and careless, when he did). His voice got better and now Kou didn't want to ever have to hear anyone else's. They would cross the halls, hand in hand, and let the moonlight dance in Mitsuba's eyes as he sang. The notes not only got cleaner and finer, but louder. When he was done, Mitsuba always told Kou he'd have to pay for the show next time.

But Kou never gave him a dime and Mitsuba never complained. Maybe he never asked for money in the first place. Maybe Kou paid him every time he let him stay over at his house and snuggle in his soft, comfy blankets. Maybe Kou paid him every time Mitsuba held onto his hand, then arm, then shoulder, then waist while in the dark hallways even as they got older. Maybe Kou paid him every time he cooked a warm meal for him and him only. Or maybe, just maybe, Mitsuba was paying him.

Mitsuba confided in him like he did in no one else, and Kou did the same in return, in his own way. He never knew a lonely night since meeting him, as he would either go through the door or Kou would have to go through Mitsuba's own window. Though, they both seemed to prefer Kou's home.

Kou never feared the phantom. Not before and not then. Then, when he had someone to protect from it. Though, sometimes, he'd walk around and one or two candles would be blown by no wind and he'd wonder what could he do if it were to manifest before them. Did Mitsuba even fear it in the first place? Why did he pull himself closer as time went by as opposed to looser after nothing ever happened?

When faced by such question, Mitsuba scoffed and refused to answer. Kou didn't push it any further, he was fine with it anyhow. Mitsuba's warmth pressed against his back never once bothered him in any way; more like it was what kept him grounded, filled him with courage against an apparition he wasn't even sure he could fight against.

On Mitsuba's fifteenth birthday, Kou invited him to his family's villa. It wasn't their first time there and there wasn't much to do that they hadn't done before, but Mitsuba seemed happy with the offer. Not like he had other things to do or other people to spend that day with.

Truthfully, it was Teru's day off. So he was there, too, taking a short break from his duties as a manager.

When looked at for too long, the calm, flowing water in the lake was blinding. Kou kept looking at it because, when it came down to it, so was Mitsuba's smile. And he was smiling a lot that day.

Kou kept looking at the water because if he didn't watch his step, he'd fall for the umpteenth time.

"I know I'm cute, but you have to be an absolute idiot to keep falling on your face even when you already know that," he said.

But how could he? When Mitsuba locked eyes with him in the softest notes and his eyes sparkled under the warm sunlight. Then, how could he see the rocks in the middle of his path? How could he right his step? How could he stop smiling even with his clothes covered in mud and wet from head to toe?

The thing was, he found truth in Mitsuba's words. After all, who enjoys songs where all the lyrics have been changed into an ode to your stupidity and your terrible looks? Even if they're sung by the softest voice, with a genuine and bright smile?

As they got older, Mitsuba had found entertainment in that. And who was Kou to cut short his smiles?

No more mimicking the touching, epic or romantic lyrics of the opera. Not for Kou's ears, at least. Or, not unless it was the dead of night and his head had been (not really) roughly placed on top of Mitsuba's lap and kept in place (as if he wanted to move) by a hand rubbing circles on his scalp. Eyes closed thanks to the touch and mouth sewn shut as to not disturb the flow of notes. Then, and only then, would Mitsuba sing unaltered, unmatched songs filled with feelings Kou didn't truly want to categorize. Was it a coincidence that they all were about love? Was Mitsuba only messing with him or did that touch in his cheek and eyelids mean something else?

That day in the villa, as the sun died down in the horizon and Mitsuba dug stray, wandering lines in the mud with a stick, clothes and limbs muddy just as Kou's own. As he watched his abstract work, maybe his chin a little too close to Mitsuba's shoulder, he heard the soft words coming out of him and felt like dozing off.

"There you are," Teru's voice called from behind them. "It's getting late; don't you want to go inside?"

The stick stopped carving lines in the dirt as Mitsuba looked back the owner of the voice, Kou doing the same shortly after.

"We'll go in in a minute!" Kou exclaimed.

Teru nodded with a lighthearted smile, going back on his tracks. Mitsuba dropped the stick and got up while Kou still tried to make up some kind of figure in the curls he left in the ground.

"So, uh... did you have fun today?" Kou asked him, dusting his clothes like it helped get the mud off.

"As much fun as I can have with you," he rolled his eyes but the warm smile in his lips told a different story.

Kou shoved him aside anyway, only gaining a bigger smile.

"It was good... I just wonder what took you so long," he said.

"... About what?"

"To invite me over in my birthday, stupid," he crossed his arms before his chest, rolling his eyes once again.

"Oh, sorry," Kou's cheek didn't itch but he scratched it anyway. "Teru just insisted I wasn't old enough to be alone here, and he was never free around your birthday." But if Mitsuba liked it, there was no way he wouldn't oblige. Taking both his shoulders, he said with maybe a little too much enthusiasm: "We can come every year from now on if you want!"

"Like I'd be happy to do the same thing every single year," his scoff had no value, as he made no move to free himself from Kou's hold. "If it's all you can give me; I guess it's okay."

"What do you mean? I still haven't given you your present."

"Huh?"

"It's inside."

In a particular room, the one they both slept in even though there were multiple others to be used, beyond the door Kou pushed open, lied a package.

"Here, I, uh... saw it and thought about you," Kou said.

Perfectly packed, perfectly picked, because as much as he had tried to ignore it, it simply called him. In Kou's eyes it was the perfect gift for Mitsuba.

"Whoa, that's definitely not a weird thing to say at all, creep," Mitsuba dug into the package as he spoke. "... A coat?"

"Well, yes," Kou knew Mitsuba was picky, so he couldn't help being nervous. "I thought it suit you, I-"

"Where am I even supposed to use this? I mean, it looks expensive," he took a seat, shifting on it to get comfortable, still holding his new coat. "Obviously I deserve nothing but the best, but I can't just wear this."

"About that..." every word he said did nothing but make Kou feel more nervous. "I, uh... told my brother you sing quite well. He's heard you himself before but..." A pause to try and arrange his thoughts that did virtually nothing. "I thought you'd like to try and-"

"Are you telling me you want me to work in the stupid opera?"

"Not if you don't want to! I just asked him if you could try but you don't have to! It's just that... I've been hearing your voice all my life and it's the one I like the most, I-"

"Okay, that's enough. Has my cuteness made you more of an idiot?" But there was no mocking smile. "... I suppose I can try, if you already went through so much trouble."

"You'll do great, I'm sure!"

Mitsuba's smile wasn't full of confidence as Kou would've liked, but he didn't seem completely against the idea.

"I'll go get him, then. Tell me when you're ready!"

Minutes passed as Kou and his brother waited for Mitsuba to show up. Kou was convinced Mitsuba would be amazing, he always had been. Teru didn't seem skeptical either, which was a good thing.

When heels finally hit the floor and Mitsuba made his way through the door, taking a minute or so to calm down; when his voice finally graced the room, then and only then, Kou recognized the melody.

He had heard it a hundred times before. At night, when he was tired but not yet asleep and sounds still reached him, when he cut himself too deep while cooking dinner, when his head span or his stomach hurt, and in the middle of the day, when Mitsuba switched the lyrics for whatever fitted best his mocking choice of the day. He had heard it a hundred times and would hear it a hundred more.

If it was Mitsuba's voice, then he'd always think of it as beautiful.

Teru's expression was unreadable to Kou's excited eyes. It probably was the same to Mitsuba's.

"Well, you do have the talent. For someone who's never had official coaching, you managed the melody quite well," he finally said.

Filled with joy, Kou felt the need to exclaim:

"He's the best!"

"There's still plenty of room for improvement, but that's not necessarily a bad thing," Teru added. "I think the opera could use your voice, if you're interested."

Mitsuba seemed anything but convinced.

"I..."

"Don't rush, you don't have to answer right away," Teru smiled. "I'll let you think about it."

Mitsuba nodded and that was the end of it.

Kou, on the other hand, was beaming as they arranged their beds.

"Aren't you happy? He said you're good!"

"... I already knew that," Kou did as well, but...

"Well, yeah, but-"

Mitsuba cut him before anything else happened:

"You're aware I'd have to go full-time there, right? And that singing lessons are really time consuming?"

Kou was. He'd been raised around that kind of people, after all.

"But if it's what you want-"

"You really don't care we won't see each other like we do now, do you?"

That was a statement Kou was ready to fight against. But it took only a bit of attention and years of knowing Mitsuba to tell what the real issue was. It was crystal clear.

"What are you talking about? I'll go to every show you're in! I'll go to your practices even!" Maybe that was pushing it too much. "... If you want me to, that is."

"You don't care one bit. You did this to get rid of me!"

"Mitsuba, come on," he called, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I want to spend time with you as much as you do-"

"I don't."

Kou ignored his claim.

"But you're so talented! I'll really miss you but if you want to go and do your best, I won't stop you!" topped with a weak smile, he did not expect Mitsuba's next words:

"Just cry already."

"I don't-" It made him sad, of course it did, to be away after all those years of growing closer and closer together. "If you don't want to go, you don't have to, I told you. I only asked him to hear you so you could have the opportunity if that's what you wanted but you don't have to go."

"... I want to," he clarified in a weak whisper. But his voice quickly picked up. "I mean, it's a waste I have such a cute face if I'm a nobody, of course I want to go and be famous. Because I'll definitely be popular, just look at me."

"Yeah, you're... pretty."

"Uh, like... like I need you to tell me something I already know."

Silence fell upon them like a curtain would soon fall between them. It didn't last long, but in that particular moment, it felt like eternity.

"... But you'll miss me, right?" Mitsuba's voice suddenly broke in.

"Of course! I'll spend as much time with you as I can!"

"I don't want you clinging to me all the time, get a life." His words, as usual, didn't match his behavior.

Kou pushed him away because he couldn't bring himself to hate one particular hypocrite, and only one.

A night like that one would hardly ever repeat.

"I don't want tonight to end..." Kou mumbled.

"Why? It's not like I'm going tomorrow."

"No, but... you're here tonight," within grasp.

"I'm not going to die, stupid."

"What I'm trying to say is... I had a lot of fun with you today. Today was a good day and I like spending time with you. Even if we might not spend this much time later on-"

"Cut that cheesy stuff out, you're making me sick," Mitsuba lied, clear and obvious. "Tonight will end even if you don't want to," his words sounded more directed to himself that at Kou but it applied to both of them.

"I know, but-"

"What are you going to do? Kill the sun? Just cut the corny crap and stop acting like I'm dying, jeez," he said as his voice died down in a tangled mess in his throat. "I'm still here, I can..."

Next thing Kou knew, Mitsuba was hugging him tighter than ever, face buried in his chest. Kou didn't know anything besides the warmth, and besides hugging him back, as close to him as physically possible.

"Please just promise you'll go see me," he mumbled. Before anything else, Mitsuba was easy to read.

"Of course! Any time you want!"

"Good. You better keep your promise, stupid."

The sun isn't a living being, so it definitely cannot be killed.

Clouds dissipated, birds chirped; morning came. And came again as Mitsuba seemed to have made up his mind.

As had become customary, Kou walked alongside Mitsuba to the opera house. Though, unlike other times, there was nothing but silence between them.

Leaves crunched under their heels and Mitsuba couldn't stop pulling on his long sleeves. He wore the coat Kou gifted him and he looked more stunning than he could ever imagine.

No matter how hard Kou wished their trip lasted one, a thousand times more than ever before, it was cut short in minutes.

Kou could go in if he wanted to, most of the time, but Mitsuba's new teacher didn't want anyone else there. It worried him, of course it did, but Teru assured him it would be fine and so he had to let go.

"Good luck," he said. "I'll come later when you're done."

"Like I want you to," Mitsuba scoffed.

Kou didn't have it in him to retain the smile.

Baggage in hand, shy, worried smile but eyes filled with wonder. Soft, well-done hair and softer skin, Mitsuba looked so beautiful under the morning sun.

He looked right back at him, then at the ground for a second and again. His lips parted and Kou wondered what made his own do the same. What was that inexplicable force urging him to lean slightly forward?

Why didn't the obey?

"See you, then," Mitsuba finally said.

He had to wave as a response, for his voice had knotted his throat and if it were to came out at all, it would speak the words in the back of his mind; the words that urged him to oblige and lean down for who knows what to happen.

He knew full well.

He knew, he knew and he knew what to do but let Mitsuba go away beyond the door because, what if he didn't want it? Such a mistake in such a day would not be their last memory.

Sousuke Mitsuba was the prettiest person he ever knew. Sousuke Mitsuba was the best person he ever knew. Under all those curses and bad attitude, under all those mean words and pushes, he was. Sousuke Mitsuba deserved to have everything he could possibly want, deserved to be somebody. And if Kou could have been with him through that, then he would have been the happiest.

As expected from everyone and as known by Kou, Mitsuba succeeded. He rapidly became one of the favorites in the opera house.

After his first ever performance, Kou had to stay by his side, hearing his heart beat so fast he thought the worst things, and once he had calmed down, he gave Mitsuba the biggest, prettiest bouquet he could afford.

"You were amazing!" he cheered, hugging him without thinking.

"Of course I was. Did you doubt it?" Mitsuba rolled his eyes even when he leaned into the hug to the point where Kou could feel the fabric on his sides stretching.

"I'd never."

By his second performance, the amount of people there were about three times what they had been before. Kou got the seat with the best view, and from the stage, as far apart as they were, Mitsuba's eyes found him and focused on him as he sang.

The way his heart threatened to split open his chest was a feeling Kou never thought he'd get from hearing someone sing.

And yet there he was, holding onto the bouquet for dear life. Bigger and (hopefully) prettier than last time.

Growing up in an opera house, Kou had been exposed to people crying in their booths as a performance ended, yet never understood why. Until then, that is. When Mitsuba's voice was so powerful his heart threatened to explode and his ears rang like never before, even after the voice quieted down.

"You did so good!" Kou greeted him with a hug upon seeing him.

"I don't need you to tell me that," he rolled his eyes as he let himself be embraced. "What do you want? I need to get something to drink," but he made no move to get away.

"Oh, here." Fortunately, Kou had just the right thing for it. "I was keeping it for you."

"Huh, thanks I guess," he shifted as to not break the hug.

So much for looking detached.

"Seriously, you were amazing again! It's so different from before, and in such a short time!" Mitsuba glared at him from behind his glass, making him pause. "Of course you were great before, too, but now you're-!"

"I get it, stop talking," with his free hand and a cocky attitude, he motioned for Kou to shut up.

"So, I, uh... brought you flowers again, hope you like them."

His cocky demeanor fell flat upon seeing the colorful bouquet, being immediately replaced by a big, warm smile.

"You really went all out, didn't you?" he said, his voice not half as excited as it should be judging by the light in his eyes. "You're leaving no money for your girlfriend."

"I don't-"

"I know. There's no way you get a date..." Mitsuba had always been full of himself before anything else. And as annoying as it could be, Kou ended up finding it endearing. "Besides, you met me, one would think that raises your standards."

"You're my most important person, I have to-"

Kou couldn't end his sentence, as Mitsuba loudly choked on his drink.

"Uh, yeah... if you say so," he coughed.

"I'm serious!"

"Get a girlfriend, jeez," without even waiting to recover from his previous incident, he downed some more of the juice.

"Wouldn't you be lonely if I did?" Kou took the opportunity.

Mitsuba's visible eye grew wide, staring down at the contents of his glass instead of looking at him. No sign of defeat but rather a weirdly warm feeling.

"Die alone, then," he said, his voice and the red on his cheeks so different from each other and yet so him. "You're so not my type."

"I wasn't talking about that!"

His heart nearly leapt from his chest at that. For reasons he couldn't dwell on. Reasons that Mitsuba's chuckle only aggravated.

"I like the flowers, by the way," he added like he couldn't see the effect his words had on Kou. Or maybe because of it. "But don't think you'll buy me with them."

Empty glass on the table, his body away from Kou's and so close to the door, he stuck out his tongue.

"I will!" as flustered as he was, a promise was a promise. And he'd keep it no matter what.

But it didn't last. Good things never do. Kou had heard that somewhere, everywhere, but refused to believe it until it hit him in the face. His interactions with Mitsuba became exponentially shorter, no matter the size of the bouquet, the color of the flowers or the smile on his face, Mitsuba was pulled backstage as soon as the show ended with the excuse that he had become so famous it would be dangerous to leave him outside unattended.

It was true, his performances were one of the most expected and well received by everyone. All tickets sold out in advance and yet, Kou always got a spot where he could see him. And he hoped Mitsuba saw him in return. It happened, of course it did. Mitsuba would soar about the audience as his voice graced them but will always gift the best notes to Kou and Kou alone. It made his heart beat fast and his face burn and he wanted to run towards the stage before he crossed the door.

Even being the manager's brother, (and later a patron, when he got money of his own), he did not gain the right to more visits.

And the ones he had were cut so short he desperately wanted to make the most of them.

"You were amazing!" it was his chosen greeting because better words never came to him after looking directly at Mitsuba and all he meant.

"You say the same thing every time."

"Well, you're always amazing," he could tell it was different.

He only got a weak nod.

"Mitsuba? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be? I'm famous, everyone loves me, I'm at the top of the world."

It sure didn't sound like it.

"You don't really seem-"

"... I don't think I can keep meeting you like this," as serious as he was, his eyes looked behind Kou more than they did at him.

"Huh? Why? Did I do-?"

"No. I mean, yes. Yes, you did do something," that hit Kou harder than any blow.

"What? Can I do something to fix it?"

Genuine worry had to be plastered on his face. Maybe that's why Mitsuba didn't look him in the eye.

"We can pick this up later, I have to go."

He did as he said and Kou wished he had lied about that too.

Staying behind had never felt as heartbreaking as it did that night.

Steps resounded behind his back and he heard them perfectly. Still, he remained in place.

"Kou? What are you doing here this late?" Teru asked.

"I, uh... Mitsuba told me we can't keep meeting after his performances."

Straight to the point. His brother's eyebrows went up in surprise.

"Oh, that's... What happened? I thought you two were really close."

"That's what I thought too. But, there was something wrong... I need to know what's going on."

Mitsuba (the Mitsuba he had known all his life) wouldn't just push him away like that.

"He's always been fond of you, our ballet teacher has told me he talks quite a lot about the flowers you bring him and about you."

Teru's words would have given him an immense amount of happiness, had they been said some other time. Now they made him nervous, yes, but left a bittersweetness on his tongue. It leaned a lot more towards just being plain bitter, though.

"Uh, I..."

He couldn't finish.

"Don't give up, Kou, maybe he just had a bad day, he cares deeply about you," a reassuring smile and a pat on his back later, he didn't feel better but acknowledged it was better than nothing. And silently thanked the gesture.

"Right? That must be it, I'll try to talk to him again next time!"

Next time never came.

The shows continued, getting better and better each time, but Mitsuba disappeared as soon as he was done and the best notes weren't for Kou anymore but for no one in particular. His voice didn't change and yet he seemed so defeated.

Kou kept asking Teru if he knew something but he denied, told him Mitsuba only spoke to Natsuhiko, one of the tenors. Naturally, Kou went to talk to him.

"I don't know anything. Mitsuba talks to me, yes, but not about important things," was the first thing he said.

"But don't you know what could be wrong?"

Natsuhiko placed a hand under his chin.

"Perhaps it's his teacher's doing, he's rather strict... When he coached me he used to tell me anyone I cared about will only hold me back, that I didn't need them. Maybe he saw something in your relationship that was harmful to Mitsuba's career," he shrugged, seemingly disinterested, but Kou appreciated the response anyway.

"Is there a way to talk to him? I swear I care about Mitsuba's career as much as him!"

Tense shoulders and overall demeanor, Natsuhiko seemed to look everywhere but at Kou.

"He doesn't really... talk to other people who aren't his students," he said after a long, uncomfortable pause.

"Is there a way I can talk to Mitsuba, then?"

"I don't think he'll let you meet him."

That simple sentence discouraged Kou beyond belief.

"I can tell him you're worried, though," Natsuhiko patted his shoulder with a particularly light hand. "I'd hate to see young love die like this," maybe it was his overall expression, the way he carried himself or both, but it took a second for Kou to process it.

"You can? Please tell him I just want to talk! If I did something wrong, I didn't mean to; I'll make up for it!"

"Of course, I'll talk to him. I must say, I'm not the best wingman, but I like Mitsuba, so I'll try," smiling wider, he circled around Kou to head for the exit.

"Wingman? I don't-"

But it was too late.

"That would be all, right? The ballet class is about to end and I have to greet the teacher. Bye."

He disappeared so quick it would've been no use chasing after him (not that there was a reason to, anyway). He'd have to wait and hope for the best, he figured.

There was little to nothing he could say or do to make things better.

He met the new songstress around that time. A girl a year older than him. A little too eager to get popular just so people would fawn over her as much as they, in her own words, did over Mitsuba.

Kou took notice of her because his brother said she'll be getting coaching too, and yet she was free to wander the halls and venture outside whenever class wasn't in session.

"Oh, I don't think we have the same teacher," she said. "I've barely talked to him one or two times. I've heard his is really strict so I'm happy mine isn't as much... He gets a little annoying, though. But I'm definitely getting better thanks to him, maybe it's the same for your friend."

She smiled, and it reminded Kou of Mitsuba's smile, if only a little. Mitsuba would berate him of he knew, but then again, Mitsuba didn't know anything now. It was but a shadow of the way Mitsuba’s smile blinded him, as was the heartbeat in his chest.

It made him nostalgic, but it wasn't the same.

Natsuhiko never got in contact with him again. At times, it even seemed like everyone avoided him except for Nene and her friend, Aoi. But the things they said weren't helpful, as Mitsuba avoided both of them and refused to speak (if he ever let them see him in the first place).

And yet, there were his eyes, focused on Kou as the show came to an end. There were his faint, bittersweet smiles as the curtains fell before him.

And there was Kou, wondering what he should do.

One day, after one of many long weeks, as he sipped on morning coffee to stay awake so early, Teru placed an envelope in front of him.

"What's this?" Kou asked.

"Take a look," having said that, he went right into his room.

Kou eyed the foreign object. There wasn't any type of handwriting on it. Not an address, not a name. He lifted it from the table and slit it open with a knife. Inside, as expected by the weight, lied a letter.

"Idiot," it greeted. "Natsuhiko said you were worried about me or something like that, so I suppose I have to write this so you stop crying at night. I'm doing fine, I'm famous after all, everyone loves me, it was about time. But you already know that, don't you? I'm sorry I haven't been able to meet you. I want to, but my teacher doesn't really let me leave or stay outside on my own for too long, that bastard overworks me! My throat burns every day and he doesn't care at all! He said you'd get in my way, too. Said it was risky or something for us to meet, but I've gotten all your pathetic flowers. For pity, mind you, it's your fault if you end up poor. They're good, I suppose, I don't dislike them. For the time being he hasn't said anything about letters so, if you want to, we can write to each other, as corny as it is, so you stop whining about me to everyone you meet. Don't think I've haven't gotten the word. Everyone here knows you're looking for me, stop giving them reasons to make up weird rumors!" then, at the very end, he signed with his name next to a little heart.

For the entire length of the letter, Kou felt the corners of his mouth lifting in a deepening smile. Mitsuba was okay, Mitsuba was the same as always, just busier. He thought about what Mitsuba would think of him if he hugged the letter in his hands, but to save himself the embarrassment, he just tucked it back in the envelope and sighed. Not a defeated sigh, but a hopeful one.

With his chest still swarming with nameless feelings, he put pen to page.

Teru came back out of his room right about the time he finished closing the envelope, and Kou took notice of the satisfied smile he wore.

"He said I should give it to you as soon as possible."

"You talked to him? Can I-?"

"Oh, no, not him; the tenor. He gave it to me and said Mitsuba didn't plan on letting you have it but that he knew better." Then, he chuckled.

Kou held onto the envelope.

So, he wasn't supposed to see it? Was it okay for him to answer?

"I see you already wrote something in return, I can take it to him."

"But, he didn't want me to see it..."

"I'm sure he'll be happy regardless, you two haven't talked in quite some time."

Kou nodded, shifting on his seat.

If he could talk to Mitsuba, by any means possible, he would be happy.

Teru took the letter with him on his way out, after saying it would raise less suspicion if it was the manager himself talking to the tenor on a regular basis. It made sense, so Kou let him do it.

It was good. So good of a thing Mitsuba barely complained about Natsuhiko sending away that first letter without his permission, so good Kou couldn't think about a good reason as to why he didn't think about it before.

Mitsuba's performances did nothing but get better, and the bouquets Kou brought him only grew bigger and more elaborate every time. Mitsuba looked at him from the stage and he looked back at him, they both smiled and even if Kou hadn't been near him in so long, he felt so close; within reach.

And yet, he didn't reach him.

One night, Teru gave him another envelope. This one was rather messy, be it only in the way it had been sealed, as it was the only thing visible.

"Open it," he said.

Kou did as he was told (not like he wasn't planning to), and read.

Mitsuba's handwriting had always been neat and beautiful, devoid (or almost devoid) of any mistake. There was even the occasional heart in one word or another and always beside his name (and lately, beside Kou's too, when he addressed him that way instead of "idiot").

Not that day. That day, it was dirty. Words tangled in other words they had no business associating with, it was short and concise. It said:

"Meet me outside as soon as you get this."

Kou didn't even bother on putting it back in the envelope or even telling his brother where he was headed. He jumped from his seat and into the night beyond the front door.

Out of breath, he reached the opera house in record time.

"Mitsuba?" he asked the night.

He was immediately shushed.

"Don't shout, idiot. No one knows I'm here," Kou immediately complied. "Come on, don't just stand there," he motioned for him and Kou followed suit.

The low buildings and the gravel path both seemed to seep into them as a growing mix of feelings engulfed Kou.

It had been years.

"Are you okay?" he asked Mitsuba, doubtfully reaching for his arm.

Ultimately stopping.

"It's been a while since he really talked, huh?" his voice bitter and barely audible, even as he tried to make his tone pick up for his next question: "Missed me?"

Without a doubt, Kou wouldn't deny him an answer.

"Of course I did..."

Mitsuba laughed, or so he tried to make it seem.

"Huh, pathetic," and it was painfully clear he didn't mean it.

"Hey! I thought you said you missed me too!"

"Like I would miss someone like you when I have tons of people who love me. You still haven't bought me with your gifts, you know?"

"I never tried to." Mitsuba deserved them, whether or not he thought so. Whether or not he recognized Kou knew it.

"If you say so."

"I promised I'd bring flowers for you every performance and that's what I did." At least he had been able to keep that promise.

"Yeah..." Mitsuba's boot purposely sent flying one little piece of gravel. It hit the others around it before disappearing down the path and into the shadows. "One would think you'd get tired of me in months."

"What do you mean?"

Why would he even? It made no sense.

"You... seemed to be getting along with the newest songstress. And besides, I've been there a long time, what's with you? Why haven't you gotten a girlfriend or something? Are you like, obsessed with me?" He hid behind an oversized sleeve, but his eyes conveyed a different feeling from that he tried to portray.

"Huh? You're my best friend! I'm just keeping my promise," then Kou got an idea: "Why haven't you gotten a girlfriend if you're so popular?"

It hit Mitsuba right where Kou hoped it would.

"No one's cuter than me," he said. Kou didn't deny him. "And, if I had time for that I'd spend at least some of it with you, don't you think? You're stupid."

It pulled just right on Kou's heartstrings.

"Oh, right... But there are girls there, too."

"You really don't get it, do you?" Mitsuba eyed him, harsh and apparently done with him, even picking up speed.

"Not really... Uh, I suppose you're cuter than them, too. Is that it?"

"... Yes, that's it," it sure didn't seem like it.

Kou didn't push it, though. If Mitsuba wanted him to know, he'd spill it out eventually.

Something else came out of his mouth after a couple minutes of just heels digging in gravel.

"I'm tired, Kou."

"Huh? Tired of what?"

"Of this," he shrugged with a sigh. "I don't want this anymore."

"Of singing?" Mitsuba nodded. "I thought you liked it, you're really good at it."

"You're right, I am. But my teacher ruined it for me, long ago... It's just not the same as... as when I was just singing for you." Having stopped in his tracks, his last couple words were too close to Kou's face. And he welcomed back that feeling he got when he dropped Mitsuba off for good. "Crap, that sounded really stupid," he corrected before it settled down.

"No, I think I get it." Not like it bothered Kou in any way. "So, you want to quit? Didn't you like being famous?"

"Duh, but it's really boring," Mitsuba's pace finally slowed down again and Kou walked right by his side. "I get up, I practice, I have a show if it's scheduled and I go to sleep... I can't even meet you anymore." Because he's transparent before anything else, Kou saw his sad gaze and felt the same. "I thought it was fine, at first, because you're really annoying to be around every day-"

The mutual feeling lasted as long as it took him to say that. Without missing a beat, Kou stepped on his heel.

"Hey! You are annoying to be around!"

"Don't hit me, stupid! You're going to ruin my cute face!"

Because he was a hypocrite, he hit Kou back.

"Anyway! But I missed you more than I thought I would... Or I just got bored, I don't really know," an awkward laugh because he couldn't go back on his words after that.

The point got across.

"Can't you ask him to take a break so you can figure it out?"

"Are you insane? He has threatened me before! I don't want to die! He doesn't care about what I want; he just cares about my performance."

"So, what can I do?"

"You? You can't do anything," the words lodged in his throat, like a bubble that grows its biggest only to deflate before popping.

"Are you sure? I'll do whatever you want me to if I can get you out!" Kou finally got the courage to take his shoulders; make him face him. "... If that's what you want."

Mitsuba's lips quickly twisted into a devilish grin and Kou wondered how he could have been so stupid to fall into trap like that.

"Good. Get this, then." In his (stupidly) open palm, Mitsuba deposited a note and some money.

"Huh? This was your plan all along?"

"You're head over heels for me; you've always been, I would be an idiot if I didn't use that in my favor," At least he was being honest. He was, Kou could tell.

"You're a bastard!"

"But you like me," had he been discovered or was that just Mitsuba messing with him?

Anyhow, Kou wasn't paying enough attention.

"I suppose you're right."

He looked down at the note, the words still not processing right in his mind.

"Uh, what's this? How is it going to help?"

"Ah," Mitsuba raised his head. "Well, you see, it's... it's poison."

"Poison? Are you trying to kill him?"

"Him? No. It's for me," It was more than enough to startle Kou beyond repair. "It'll make me lose my voice."

He was in such a shock he couldn't even find the words to confront him with.

"So you won't talk again?"

"Not talk, just sing... that's what he said, anyway."

Someone out that idea on Mitsuba's mind?

"He?"

"... The phantom."

Not someone. Something worse.

"There's no way I'm bringing you something he recommended! What if something bad happens? What if you d-?"

Mitsuba shushed him.

"Shut up, it's perfectly safe," but Kou could tell he wasn't sure.

"How do you know?"

"I've asked around, I'm not stupid."

"I'm not doing it," if it would harm Mitsuba in any way, he would remain firmly against it.

Mitsuba pouted.

"And you have the nerve to say you care about me? It really shows, huh?" crossing his arms before his chest, he settled on a nearby bench.

"There has to be another way!"

"There isn't. That bastard will overwork me until I die, for as long as I can sing."

Mitsuba knew better than him, right? He found no other option but to fall silent.

"I'll find another way, I promise!" but he couldn't think of anything.

"Good luck with that, then," he scoffed.

Despite everything, Mitsuba's eyes looked sad. Kou finally took a seat at his side, taking the opportunity of his hand being out in the open right next to his and took it.

After so long without that, he finally understood why he never feared the phantom when Mitsuba seemed like he needed him. It was so soothing it felt like he had been starving without even knowing it, for the longest time.

Then Mitsuba looked at him without any particular expression. Or Kou panicked before he could read it.

"Uh, sorry!" he took his hand off. To keep on starving was better than to make him uncomfortable.

"... It's fine, don't make such a fuss about it," Mitsuba rolled his eyes, this time taking Kou's hand in his.

It went deeper than that.

"I... I just don't want to hurt you; I won't forgive myself if I do..."

"I won't forgive you either."

Mitsuba made things easier. Made Kou capable of chuckling even in a moment like that.

"I guess not," he said. "I've wanted to see you for so long, I don't want this to end..."

"I have to go back soon, before he notices," Mitsuba told him, breaking any and all hope. "You know what you have to do."

"Huh?"

"Kill the sun," he shrugged, trying to look serious but failing miserably.

"I'm serious! Don't you like being here?"

"With you? What, you think I like you?"

The question was straight to the point. A heavy blow. But after everything else, Kou felt confident enough.

"... We're holding hands."

Mitsuba's face grew red from the tip of his ears, Kou could see it clearly even at night.

"You're... making me do it," he tried, looking away.

"Your hand is on top."

"Shut up."

Neither of them could restrain a smile.

"I don't mind, I... really missed you."

"Yeah, you already said that," Mitsuba sighed. "It's been good, all the attention and stuff but it was better when you were my only audience; less work."

Kou could only glare.

"You hate singing now?"

"Not really, just doing it for him. I mean, I have to look at you to remind myself is not that bad," taking notice of his words, he looked away. "But don't let it get to your head!"

"I should sing for you once in a while," Kou joked, though he meant it.

"Like you can do it."

Ready to fight his claim, Kou looked at him. Mitsuba looked back and then and only then they both seemed to realize just how close they were; just how warm they felt even in the dead of night.

"What now? This was your plan? You've wanted this all along, haven't you? I can't believe I fell for it!" Mitsuba was the first to pull away from him, embarrassed.

Still, their hands remained clasped.

"I thought you didn't want this!" Kou defended, not even knowing if it was the right approach.

"You never pay attention, do you? I can't believe how much of an idiot you are!"

"Huh?" So was it-?

"Just forget about it. I should go back now."

That reminder made Kou aware of a handful of things.

That the sun wasn't a living being, for one.

"Can't we just run away?"

"No way, that bastard would kill us both. There's no other option."

As much as he was a coward. He wasn't that much of one. Prompted with the offer to run away, Mitsuba wouldn't deny if it was a possibility. As much as a liar that he was, he wouldn't lie about that.

"I'll take you there, then," so Kou sighed, defeated like never before.

Even though it wasn't much of a consolation prize, Mitsuba didn't let go of his hand all the way back to the opera house. And how Kou wished that walk never ended.

Alas, it did.

"I'll see you later," Kou said, hoping if he thought about it enough, it would become true.

"I'll be waiting."

Mitsuba's lips remained parted as his sentence came to an end. They were so close, for the first time in so long, it felt like there was only one right thing to do. And yet it felt foreign to lean in.

Fortunately for Kou, he didn't have to so do. Mitsuba pulled on his shirt, bringing forth a warm feeling on his cheek. Was it so naturally warm, though? Or was it that way because his own face burned?

Anyhow, it was cut too short.

"You should see your face; you look stu-!" Mitsuba tried to laugh it off, but Kou wouldn't have any of it. Not that night.

So, before he could finish, Kou was the one to pull on his shirt that time, finally bringing their lips close despite the rough clack his action produced as his clouded conscience didn't notice their teeth would clash on impact. It was bothersome for a solid two seconds, then, as they adjusted, happily forgotten.

Mitsuba's cheeks felt softer than they had before as he cupped his face.

Finally doing what he had craved for years felt better than Kou could ever imagine.

Time moved on, however, and the sun rose once more, for it could not be killed.

And rose, and rose. Later that week, before it started to melt into the next one, Kou found himself wandering the opera's halls. Alone and without the weight on his back he had grown so accustomed and couldn't forget even after all those years without it. Was it any use? Acting tough in front of a phantom he wasn't even sure watched him? When there was no one there who needed (or claimed to need) his protection?

The opera house could not be freed from the apparition, fed from it, Kou learned. As Kou himself could not be freed from the overwhelming presence looming above him. He wondered if the phantom found it amusing.

It did.

"You seem troubled, kid," he called.

Sitting in a lower ledge on the wall to his right, was the phantom, wearing the expression of a cat, if they could smile that way.

Kou did his best to ignore the presence, or rather its intent, for Kou had been searching for a way to get rid of him since his early days, despite popular complaints from those fond of the vile apparition. It suggested Mitsuba poison and Kou wanted nothing more than for him to choke.

He wouldn't be taking any chances.

"How rude of you to ignore me like that, I'm actually quite worried; I've watched you grow, after all."

"I don't have any business with you, get lost before I make you," Kou growled.

"Oh, scary," he laughed despite Kou's attempts to seem serious. "Seriously, kid, I've been waiting for years for you to do something and you still give me nothing but threats."

That reminder made Kou want to be able to choke him himself. Unfortunately, he had learned long ago the phantom could not be touched by living flesh. The coward that he was. Years upon years of knowing about his existence and yet Kou couldn't find a way to get rid of him.

"I'm not here to mess with you, though," he said, waving both hands at his sides as a sign of no ill intent. Kou didn't buy it. "I heard you already know about the little bit of advice I have your friend," he smiled wide as he floated out of reach.

Everything he did made Kou clench his fists, as there wasn't anything else he could do.

"How dare you-?" he bit.

"There's no need to get violent, I can assure you my intentions are selfless."

"A filthy apparition like you knows nothing about selflessness!"

"You'd be surprised," he assured. It didn't help Kou's confidence in him. "You want to help him or not?"

"Of course I want to! But I'm not poisoning him!"

The phantom chuckled to himself.

"One must make sacrifices, kid. He'll be okay as long as you follow my directions!"

His attempt at being reassuring fell flat before it arrived.

"I'm not listening to you."

"I thought you wanted to help him... maybe not..."

As hard as Kou tried to stand his ground, that sentence made him take a step back. No matter how much he didn't want to.

"What even is in there for you? Why would you want to help?"

"Because..." he extended, as his lips did. "If he's out of the picture, my apprentice can truly blossom. People fawn over him too much and he's not that impressive, in any way. My songstress is beautiful and talented. When he's gone, this place will be hers."

Kou had heard before that Nene had a particular teacher, though he never thought it was him.

Despite how nice Nene seemed, and despite everything, really-

"I don't trust you."

"Good. You shouldn't trust apparitions so easily. But if you have any doubts, I'm sure my songstress could take some of the burden off of you. I truly want her to succeed, as much as I want that brat of yours gone, there's something to win for everyone, don't you think?"

Kou stood there as the apparition vanished. Promptly turning around and walking away despite still feeling watched.

Early next morning, he ventured outside in search for the poison named in Mitsuba's handwriting. He'd go there, see it for himself and figure out if it was the best option, he told himself.

He couldn't ask anyone besides the old lady sitting behind the counter, he couldn't talk to anyone else about it.

The tiny vial he was offered in exchange for his money wasn't particularly impressive, nor did it look threatening. He took it in his hands, cradled it under the warm sunlight. His stomach turned. The longer he looked at it, the worse it got.

Was there no other way? Was that feeling just guilt? For planning to take something away from the person he cared about the most? Or was it something deeper? Was it telling him something he couldn't see himself?

He pocketed the vial before any answer cleared. He'd had time to think about it later.

The lady said there were secondary effects to be expected; awfully dry coughing and maybe some blood thanks to it, partial loss of voice. It made Kou's heart race like he wished his legs would, away from that place. And yet he stayed because Mitsuba asked him to.

Mitsuba didn't have a death wish, never had before. He was just making sacrifices to live the life he wanted. And Kou had to support him even if it meant never hearing him sing again.

As with everything, there was an appropriate dose. Kou made sure to memorize the right amount, tried to see how much of the vial it would take. If he did that, everything would be fine.

Without Mitsuba, there was no sense in him escaping to the villa once in a while. He did, occasionally, but it lacked any fun and was mostly to sit in the water to cool himself down if it came to that. No more late night singing, no more sudden splashes in his face, no more muddy clothes and scrapped knees, no more falling head first because Mitsuba was too pretty to look away. No more. Just him, the birds, the lizards and the little fish, none of which provided the company he craved.

Not until then.

He requested the villa from his brother, who gave the keys without more questions than necessary. Kou only told him he'd bring Mitsuba there as an escapade from his job, and after watching the boy overwork himself for years, Teru had no objections.

So it began.

The night of Mitsuba's next performance, Kou arrived even earlier than he used to. Bouquet in hand, vial tucked into his pocket, and a harmless glass of Mitsuba's favorite juice. As far as he was aware, there wasn't any in the opera house itself.

Following a long forgotten corridor, dimly lit and cold, he arrived at the holding room.

It appeared to be empty, from the creaking space he opened in the door. He had been expecting Mitsuba to be there, but he hoped he knew what the glass entailed.

To make sure, he took the one that was already sitting in the table. In went the planned amount of poison, fading into light orange like it meant to be there in the first place. But it didn't, Kou knew that.

A sudden heavy step made him jump out of his skin. He ran away through the door as the steps approached and as a bell notified the show was about to start.

His seat was the same as always, the stage was the same as always, it was as crowded as always and yet, it felt foreign. It felt tainted, it felt-

It felt wrong.

Was it too late to go back? Had Mitsuba already brought the glass to his lips? Had the poison really stirred or was it sitting as the bottom of the glass? Would that show end in disaster, an awful farewell for all it had been? Or would Mitsuba be able to close with a golden pin?

Mitsuba didn't owe anyone a good last performance, but people did owe him the right to live in their memories like he had until then.

The music started, and as a triggered engine, Kou's heart raced with it.

This time, unlike others, mixed feelings filled his chest; poured out of him.

Mitsuba sang, eyes fixed in him, unapologetically smiling. Kou let his voice slip into the cracks in his chest and hoped for the best.

Then-

A missed note. Not low, not high, just missing, and the room quieted down in a gasp.

As people stared in disbelief, the stage's acoustic brought forth a wet spilling noise. Like a milkmaid tripping and losing her goods; a rock sinking deep into a pond... his dearest person spitting crimson.

The guests screamed and yet Kou was sure he was louder than any of them, even if his ears didn't hear anything but a piercing ring.

As blurry as his trip to Mitsuba was, he got there in time to hold him close to his chest. Staff gathered around the bed he had been placed on, and Kou never once lifted Mitsuba's head from his lap.

"The poor thing, he still had a bright future ahead of him," a voice lamented.

"You think he'll recover?"

"I sure hope so, but maybe he won't sing again..."

"Can he even talk? He just went silent all of a sudden."

"What could have caused such a thing?"

Guilt swarmed all over him, so much so that he barely noticed there were voices surrounding him and not just whispering sounds or creaking tiles.

Only one voice mattered and he wasn't even sure he'd hear it again.

"Mitsuba, can you speak?"

He should have been able to, as promised. He nodded, tired eyes that simply didn't shine like they should and his lips parted. No sound came out, just a scrapped throat and something that sounded like nails scratching wood.

"Hey, he'll get better, right? Even if he can't sing again, he'll talk again, right?" Kou asked, the back of his nose burning like never before, holding onto the black fabric of the dress closest to him.

The ballet teacher found his eyes. Hers were gentle, they inspired trust in Kou's unsettled mind. But no matter how long he waited-

"I hope so, but we can't be sure," she said, shattering any hope within Kou that maybe he could amend for his mistake.

"He can't just lose his voice all of a sudden! What if someone did this to him?" the ballerina asked her friend, loud and louder to Kou's guilty heart.

Like his voice had been snatched as well.

"That's a possibility," Sakura reasoned.

Would anything be worth it if they found out? What would happen then?

"What are you going to do?" Natsuhiko towered over him by his side of the bed, resting against the wall.

He had a plan. Days, hours before, when things didn't seem so gruesome, when white was white without a hint of crimson, then and only then it all made sense.

Mitsuba was pale, cold and his breathing unsettled Kou like nothing else.

"Uh, I don't-" he doubted, but caught himself in the middle of it. "I don't care if someone did this to him or not, what matters to me right now is to get him out of here, he needs it."

Or, that was what he needed before. Things had changed for the worse in just minutes and perhaps it would be better to confess and beg for someone to help Mitsuba.

"If he doesn't get his voice back-" started Sakura, absent expression for the untrained eye but strangely focused on a shadowed corner, thin eyebrows knitted together.

"He coughed blood, I don't think he should be kept here," Aoi intervened, both hands covering her mouth.

"You'll have to talk to the manager about it, I suppose," Sakura said.

That was under control.

Not as hopeful as he hoped it would go down, but at least it was.

"He won't oppose," Kou sniffled, hoping he could still be taken seriously. "It's my duty to take care of Mitsuba no matter what, he'll understand if I think this is the best option."

It was his duty to take care of him and yet he poisoned him.

"Well, if it's what Mitsuba wants..."

Paler, paler and weaker, Mitsuba nodded, barely lifting his head from Kou's lap.

Two hours later, bathed in moonlight and the vague satisfaction of victory (drowned in guilt and more bitter than sweet but a victory somehow), their cart moved, unsteady, through rock paths.

Someone should have been notified that the most popular singer had to be taken away, that he had grown paler as the night went on, that his white shirt now had dark drying spots, that his voice was gravel; scrapping and dry. And yet, the cart hadn't been denied to Kou, not an obstacle in his way.

Mitsuba could talk, if you leaned as close as possible. It wasn't his voice, but it was him.

"How are you doing?" Kou asked him, soft thanks to the fear of not getting a reply.

"As good as I can," Mitsuba coughed from his raspy throat. "At least I... at least they let me out..." he shifted in the seat he lied on. "But my voice better improve or I won't forgive you."

It was him. And that was why Kou didn't dare to turn around; it was him, but he looked like it wasn't. It was painful not because of any superficial thing but for the guilt pouring out of him. Endless.

"It was your idea!" Kou tried to lessen the weight around them.

"Don't think I'll thank you"

"I don't want you to thank me..." his hand gripped tighter, white knuckles that still weren't as white as Mitsuba behind him.

A reminder not even the vague darkness could disguise.

"I'll lie down for a bit, wake me up when we get there," Mitsuba sighed, closely followed by fabric rubbing under his weight.

"You feel sick?"

"You poisoned me, of course I feel sick."

Kou's stomach turned and an alarm went off in his mind, screaming his regret and deafening him to any other sound.

"... I'm sorry." it didn't help but he wouldn't be of any use if they didn't get to the villa.

Dry coughing hurt his ears and he didn't dare to look back. His head throbbed like he had been hit by a blunt object multiple times.

If Mitsuba fell silent, would he ever speak again?

"Hey, uh... remember before? When we were younger, you... If I was feeling down or sick, you'd sing to me," Kou tried, words catching in his throat.

"Uh huh," Mitsuba mumbled after what felt like ages.

Probably unwanted but brought to him anyway, Kou cleared his throat.

Never before had he felt the need to sing and yet now more than ever it seemed like the right thing.

The words left his throat shaky, unsure and probably terribly pitched, but he went on anyway. Gravel accompanied him and from a time to time an unknown animal would fly close to him, but he never stopped, fearing it wouldn't be just his voice to die down.

But a melody couldn't last forever.

Silence received him, and the need to turn around grew stronger and louder. Right before he succumbed, though, a familiar (but raspier, his heart clenched) giggle echoed at his back. Not only dry but also pained, as shown by his tightly closed eyes.

"Oh, shut up, you couldn't sing to save your life," he said.

"I just want to cheer you up."

"Then shut up, you're just depressing me," Mitsuba was still Mitsuba, Kou almost felt like smiling. "You already did enough, I'm-"

It was quickly replaced by the threatening heartbeat in his chest when Mitsuba's dry cough took over the gravel and the owls.

"Mitsuba? Are you okay?"

Spilling. The damn spilling sound again and the cries of a ripped throat.

Like it was of any help, Kou finally turned around.

"Mitsuba?"

Paler than before, like it was even possible, no hint of any life in his usually warm cheeks, no blinding light in his eyes; just messy hair and hands covering his mouth, dripping blood on the wooden floor.

The moon high above them, its light falling right on top of the crimson stain in front of Mitsuba, it was enough for Kou's stomach to drop.

In the dead of night, he stopped in his tracks. The world was blurry and his eyes couldn't focus on anything that wasn't Mitsuba's face. Sick, white as a sheet, tainted with red in the corners of his mouth and so pained Kou almost felt like he knew that pain as his own.

He wished he did. Maybe that way, Mitsuba would pick his head up and his eyes would shine like they had always done. But they didn't.

He cradled his face, kissed his forehead, cold and damp from sweat.

There never was a reason for believing poison wouldn't betray him. There was never a reason to go through with it and yet Kou was so naive, so stupid.

"You said it would be fine!" he cried, tears running down his face like they had been doing all along, just faster.

"I'm not the first to use it, I-" he coughed once again and drops reached Kou's shirt. "I thought it would be fine."

His voice came in intervals. It was there, a shadow of what it used to be for a second, then it was gone and yet his lips moved. Then it came back, stained.

"You'll be alright, right? You feel alright?"

Mitsuba nodded again.

If he did he would make himself the victim, he would smile and make fun of him, he would call him pathetic for worrying so much, he would-

"Mitsuba, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have-!"

"It's my fault, you didn't even want to do this, it's okay," it wasn't.

That was clear just by the fact that Mitsuba was reassuring him.

"It's not! I could've find other way! If I had just tried, I could have!"

More coughing, more blood. And yet Kou hugged him closer, petted his hair.

"I am sorry. For making you do this."

"I did this on my own, you were desperate but I could have helped you!"

"Shut up already..."

Silence fell upon them and Mitsuba seemed to become lighter in Kou's arms. Even as they looked into each other's eyes.

"You never even thought of singing at the opera house, I made you try without even asking if you wanted to do it," a tear fell on Mitsuba's cheeks and he did nothing but smile faintly.

"I could have rejected."

"I pushed you! I said everything would be okay, that we'd see each other every time we could; that nothing would change! And I didn't even try to keep my promise, I just accepted you couldn't see me, I should-"

"You just did it because you thought it was the best for me. You're such an idiot."

"I know, I'm sorry," Mitsuba tried his best to sound like usual but if it had been successful, Kou would think of returning the insult.

Kou sobbed louder than any other thing around them.

Mitsuba had always been a messy crier and yet his throat was so raw it was barely a hiccup. So Kou cried for the both of them.

Crickets sang better than Kou ever would. Or so Mitsuba would say if he wasn't heaving and barely awake. Silent and fading. He would kill for him. To see him smile again, to kick the poison out of his own hand and shatter it, to toss it in the ground and see it seep in the gravel. But time travel was a dream as much as he wished that current night was.

He would kill for him but instead he was killing him.

"Kou?" he called. "Kill the sun."

The vague smile told him he wanted to joke like all those times before but it also screamed that, for once, he hoped there was a way to reach the mass, to slay it beyond repair like it would fix all things, like it would stop time for them just because they wished so.

"Kill the sun," he repeated. "so tonight never ends."

Never before Kou had longed so much for a death like that. The sun couldn't be killed, however, and so it laughed at them from far, far away like the benevolent moon would never do.

Mitsuba's hand cupped his cheek and he couldn't care less about the dampness, unsure even if it was blood, sweat or tears.

He let himself be pulled down towards his cold lips; tasted the iron, vaguely salty of tears. He kept his eyes shut because maybe, just maybe, he could fool the sun that way.

If it couldn't be avoided, if it couldn't be killed, how long would he have to lean in for it to burn him like it did to Mitsuba? Like he did to Mitsuba.

He could, at last. He killed the sun. But the sun he killed was not the one he wished to extinguish but his own.

The sun in the sky would never shine as bright as his smile and so it didn't let itself be killed.

Its light seeped right next to Kou and, in an attempt to blind him like only Mitsuba's smile could, it made a forgotten vial flicker.

White light, red blood; was there anything else to lose?