Chapter Text
It had been about two years since Rui Kamishiro had vanished off of the face of the Earth.
It’s not like he had wanted to disappear. In fact, he was in a pretty solid mental space, given that he wasn’t spending every day miserably alone. With the help of Wonderlands x Showtime, he had managed to make so many of his dreams come true—the little ones, the small steps towards his big goal.
He owed Wonderlands x Showtime a lot, actually. So he paid them back with the utmost kindness and respect—he had a neatly stacked pile of letters from Emu that he swore he’d respond to, the occasional late night chat with Nene, and…
Okay, maybe he wasn’t pulling his weight. But in his defense, nothing in his life had been going well.
It started the day Wonderlands x Showtime disbanded—he thought he’d be fine. “We’ll still be able to talk to each other. It won’t be a big deal. I look forward to seeing all of you again in the future after all this,” he had insisted. What a liar he was. Was it a lie at the time? No, not really—he had genuinely believed that he would be able to keep contact with his dearest friends even after Tsukasa had gone to some prestigious university to study acting, after Nene had followed a similar path, just in a college across the country, and after Emu had… also left to study. Graduating high school is what did them in, the final straw breaking their both closely bonded and terribly shaky group apart. Branches on a tree can’t grow if they’re all right next to each other—they all need to find their own direction for the greater good. But Rui wasn’t a tree branch. He was a rather lonely college student majoring in theater directing.
The days following their incredibly grand and tearful final show before Wonderlands x Showtime’s indefinite hiatus were fine—they would often chat online, since in-person communication was becoming more and more unlikely every mile that they all got closer to their respective schools. Having someone to complain to about the lack of space in your cramped dorm or the thick layer of dust on every surface or the suspicious creaking sounds of the floorboards made having your world uprooted a little easier, Rui thought. The move had been especially rough on him—he wasn’t exactly fond of choosing which mechanical darlings of his could tag along, given that the process was full of disassembling his intricate creations and picking favorites. His parents had to politely tell him several times that he would need to have space in his room for the essentials, like clothing and notebooks and whatnot. And while Rui was certain that his balloon-animal making tools were substantially more important than a winter coat, he was eventually able to fit his entire life into a handful of boxes.
Phase one was constant chatting—after Rui was all settled and adjusted, about a month into his new life, he was constantly talking with Emu and Nene and Tsukasa. They all had time for him, and he had time for them. Things were fine. Not at all normal, but fine. Late night gaming sessions were commonplace, and Tsukasa was as great of a leader as ever when it came to planning things.
Phase two was the decline—around midterms was when the drift started. Rui had rarely taken his academics that seriously, but he had been accepted to a well-known university with a fantastic scholarship, and he couldn’t bring himself to let this opportunity go to waste. This was also around the time ArcLand started reaching out—he couldn’t just tell them to come back later forever, of course. The day he graduated, he had reluctantly accepted an internship, setting his own terms—that he could continue his studies and get a feel for what working there would be like while remaining a full-time student. That had begun eating up a lot of his time, however, and slowly, he began showing up to fewer calls. Tsukasa was also busy seemingly working himself to the bone, taking up opportunity after opportunity to improve his acting. Nene did the same, landing a handful of roles in local theaters—according to Emu, who had managed to catch a particularly long train ride to see her, she did amazing every time.
Phase three was the disappearance, where Rui sat comfortably. His dorm room was back to being stuffed full of mechanical inventions, some assignments for class and others for the shows he was assisting with at ArcLand. He was certainly getting the directing experience he needed to help put on grander shows with the rest of Wonderlands x Showtime—at least, that was how he justified it. But slowly, he forced himself to detach from the past, all for the sake of moving forward. He hated it, hated the guilt that weighed down his stomach whenever Emu sent a letter to him. She had taken up scrapbooking, often sending adorable envelopes to the rest of Wonderlands x Showtime. According to Nene, she sent a lot of them to both her and Tsukasa, each one unique in design. Rui had tried responding to the heartfelt gift, but after staining a page with tears, he had given up. What could he possibly say? Emu always added in a few lines about how she couldn’t wait to put on a “sparkly, super-duper wonderhoy ☆ show!”, which never failed to make Rui so regretful he felt nauseous. What had he done?
But he swallowed his feelings and just kept moving, just kept wading through life while trying his best to experience it. ArcLand wasn’t awful—it was a nice break from school, and a good way to get away from himself. As long as Asahi refrained from saying anything that Tsukasa had said in the past, he managed to survive. When he was reminded of Wonderlands x Showtime, however, he would sink below the surface, gasping for air as he tried to bring himself to the present, as if forcing himself to move on with every ounce of strength he had.
And he kept living like that for two years, staying perfectly okay. He had no idea how the others were doing—Emu’s letters were waning in frequency, and he couldn’t bring himself to open them nowadays. Nene’s texts were getting shorter and shorter, and sometimes he couldn’t type out a reply. He hadn’t heard anything from Tsukasa, which he tried to brush off as the other boy dedicating himself to his work, which didn’t exactly soothe his worries. The others had heard next to nothing from him for at least a year and a half now.
The old Rui Kamishiro had been buried, and was probably still fighting for air beneath the grass, but the new Rui was skilled with using a shovel to pack down dirt. The ‘indefinite hiatus’ was absolutely definite—he had already shut everyone else out too many times for them to let him back in. He had sealed his own fate, ruined his own life, ensured that he would never be forgiven. Now he could move on with his life, make that show he had dreamed of-
And then he stops dead in his tracks, staring up at the advertisement in the subway.
Blond hair that faded to a soft pink was styled neatly yet with a sense of motion, and those familiar orange eyes gave a playful wink. Beautiful silver earrings on the left ear could be seen peeking out from the neatly placed hair, with the right ear not visible thanks to the hairstyle working with the tilt of the model’s head. In one hand, he held a bottle of nail polish, turned so that the logo was perfectly visible, settled neatly in his palm and locked in place by clawed fingers. His other hand gently supported his face, adorned in simple yet beautiful and shiny metal rings, which didn’t take anything away from the stunning color of his nails, which had been painted a gorgeous shade of yellow. The photo seemed to capture a perfect moment in time, the light hitting every single element in the photo, from the reflective nail polish to the jewelry to his hair just right, with a simple, single color background with the brand’s name in large text.
If they wanted memorability, they certainly had it—that image was sure to be burned in Rui’s memory for weeks on end.
He had lost him. And here Rui was, a soon-to-be somebody who had just started his path in reforging the name for himself that he had spent all of highschool building, staring in awe of Tsukasa, who always seemed far more decisive than him. Tsukasa had a strong heart. He had charged straight forward into life, and here he was before him, a giant poster on the wall of a place thousands walked through daily. Rui’s hesitation had only resulted in him getting shoved forward by crowds of passerby just trying to get to their train on time as he stared in some combination of mourning, awe, and shock. He didn’t budge, much to the disdain of the others who watched and scoffed without the slightest clue of what was going on, probably clocking Rui as some sort of obsessed fanboy.
Rui missed his train, feeling twice as many stings of regret prod at him with every step he took before he miserably collapsed on a bench.
Now disheartened and ten minutes further from reaching the electronics store he had once ventured to with Len a lifetime ago, Rui loses himself as he blankly stares around the station. Ah, SEKAI—what had happened to it? He had sworn to have heard some murmurs from Miku when he first moved, but it had been ages since he looked for Untitled. For his own sake, he had declared that he was insane and swore to take a break from listening to any Vocaloid song for a week to ensure that he wouldn’t hallucinate Miku’s voice again. Even if they were still out there, he couldn’t possibly face them. He had burned plenty of bridges with his ridiculous inability to keep in touch with people. What were six more?
Perhaps today was just one of those days. He wills himself to his feet, deciding that maybe he’ll just go home instead and sleep his feelings off. That always seemed to work. Sometimes, dreaming was preferable to reality. He never remembered what he dreamt about, though he often found himself waking up with salt building up in streams down his face with small patches of wetness on his pillowcase—probably just nightmares, he had always insisted.
He walks past crowd after crowd of faceless people, the only distinct entity in his mind being none other than that stunning model on the advertisement. Tsukasa Tenma. Oh god, Tsukasa Tenma. Just the name alone made Rui feel the need to go cry his eyes out on some inhospitable cold tile floor to atone for his crimes. More than anything, he wanted to put on a show with him—yes, Nene and Emu were damn good at what they did, but he found himself missing Tsukasa badly every single time that someone at ArcLand agreed to one of his stunts. The part of his brain he wished he could carve out and burn to ash would always nag him, always muttering something about how Tsukasa could do it better.
If only he were stronger, his heart tougher, more difficult to sway. Then he wouldn’t be locked in this graying world, caught between dreams and reality in an unfortunate way sure to end in catastrophe. If he had grown a spine, he would have one or the other, would have the slightest bit of certainty.
Instead, he wanders aimlessly, as he usually does, trying to kill time. How much time? Rui has no clue. Maybe the rest of his life will be spent roaming the streets in an attempt to get away from himself, only to drown in his own internal monologue. If only he could just stop thinking, if only he could just shut himself up. That’d be lovely. He could use some peace and quiet.
But life has something else in mind for him. As he passes a local café, he hears a loud commotion. On instinct, he turns towards it. After all, ideas for shows hide in both daylight and in shadow, and to find as many as he can, he should be aware of his surroundings. If he finds enough show ideas, then he’ll have something other to think about than the state of his life on his walks.
And he’s presented with the greatest show idea of his life—right there on the other side of the glass is none other than blond hair that faded to a soft pink, styled neatly yet with a sense of motion, and those familiar orange eyes giving him a shocked look from the other side.