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uwua3 · 4 years

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bunnie!!! ur mind!!! the songs fit each member so well omg,,, i kept singing each song lmao,,, also may i present to u: spring day for tsumugi and tasuku (esp for before + start of winter troupe main story) 👀

now this... this is what i wanted someone to REQUEST!!! i had to take a break from writing an angst song fic to write ANOTHER angst song fic because i genuinely love this prompt so much!!! thank you so much for reading my mind, pines, omg!!! it’s good to see you again~ also, i like your blue theme!

summary: tsumugi came back to him like the first snow of every winter

warnings: break ups, hatred, heartbreak

author’s note: ok tala already basically wrote out the plot for me but here we go ~ Angst ~ for the boys and it’ll be a song fic, so expect it to follow the lyrics! i wrote this with the canon idea in mind that tasuku and tsumugi are ex–boyfriends turned lovers again so don’t be surprised from the #Gay~ happy pride!

sometimes, you’re with the right person at the wrong time. if they come back, it’s meant to be and it’ll be okay ♡ remember, communication is key!

word count: 6,509

music: spring day (jpn) – bts

spring day.

❄️📚⚽️ tsukioka tsumugi x takoto tasuku

I MISS YOU, SAYING THIS MAKES ME MISS YOU EVEN MORE,

I MISS YOU, EVEN THOUGH I’M LOOKING AT YOUR PHOTO

TIME’S SO CRUEL, I HATE US

SEEING EACH OTHER FOR ONCE IS NOW SO HARD BETWEEN US

Tsumugi was gone, like he never existed.

Every trace of him that was ever in Tasuku’s life was gone, there was nothing left. The apartment was left empty, bare, lifeless; it felt nothing like home, not anymore. When Tasuku searched the apartment, there was truly nothing that resembled any evidence Tsumugi was even alive. It was as if, he didn’t want Tasuku to remember him. To forget, to ignore the person he had shared his entire life with.

Tasuku paused at the one sign Tsumugi was real: the single framed picture near the front door. It was placed on the counter, the same stand where the couple would drop their keys at so they knew where everything was. Tasuku wanted to hear the sound of the metal clattering against the ceramic bowl Tsumugi crafted in pottery class, to hear Tsumugi affectionately call out, “I’m home!”, and for his brown peacoat jacket to be hung on the hook behind the door. Tasuku wanted Tsumugi to come back.

When Tasuku picked up the picture, his hand was shaking. Tasuku remembered this exact frame: the day he realized he was in love with his best friend. Tsumugi’s blue eyes were staring straight at the Tasuku with an indescribable look, an expression created and meant for Tasuku only. Characters closer than rehearsal called for, like they were the only two people in the world. It was moments before Tasuku had leaned in and kissed his co–star on stage on opening night, going against the script and changing the rest of his life forever.

Tsumugi looked alive. Real, like he could’ve just had him forever right then and there. A tear dropped onto the glass, running down the frame before Tasuku covered his mouth with his free hand, falling down to his knees as he held the photo to his chest. He couldn’t help but cry, cry for all the years he had spent loving someone who just left. Being in love with a man who woke up and took everything with him, disappearing into thin air. All Tasuku had left of Tsumugi were the memories, and this single picture.

Tasuku exhaled, his breath coming out short and ragged as he stared at the picture again despite knowing every detail. He could feel everything: the intense heat of the stagelights upon them, the shocked stares of the cast and murmurs backstage, the overwhelming applause and standing ovation from the crowd after the scene. The way Tsumugi couldn’t let go of his hand, trembling under the sudden attention but never faltering.

Tasuku remembered how he stood in front of Tsumugi anytime someone questioned it, feeling his gentle touch at the base of his back for comfort. The endless lingering stares in practice, the unanswered questions about how this happened, the kiss on stage that was too real. How that night, Tsumugi pulled them into the apartment for more like he couldn’t wait anymore after all these years just to say, “I love you, Ta–chan”.

Tasuku’s tears streamed down his face silently, for once feeling the anguish and heartbreak his roles felt. The abandoned apartment was only Tasuku’s, like Tsumugi didn’t spend the last three years living with him. It was as if, Tsumugi never loved him.

Tasuku loved Tsumugi, so, so much.

IT’S ALL WINTER HERE, EVEN IN AUGUST

MY HEART IS RUNNING ON THE TIME

ALONE ON THE SNOWPIERCER

WANNA GET TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE EARTH, HOLDING YOUR HAND

Tasuku was gone, and it was all his fault.

Tsumugi gripped the ticket in his hand, staring down the luggage he hastily packed. It was nearly bursting at the seams as he fiddled with the buckles, making sure nothing could hold him back from leaving his home. Nothing could keep Tsumugi from staying, as he silenced his phone and pocketed it away, missing the tens of calls and hundreds of text messages from his one and only. Tsumugi knew if he even checked for a second, he’d come running back to the man he loved most only to fail him again.

Tsumugi leaned back in his seat in the waiting area, surrounded by few, none of whom recognized him. How could they, when he had given up on succeeding as an actor like a coward? Tsumugi pulled up the collar of his jacket, slouching into his coat to hide from the rest of the world. He didn’t deserve to show his face, not after everything he did to Tasuku.

Tasuku would’ve woken up by now to go on his morning run. Tsumugi was supposed to beg him not to go, wanting the warmth to stay in bed just a little longer. Tasuku was supposed to firmly say no, give a kiss on the cheek as compensation, but come back much sooner than expected with a pretty flower he picked for Tsumugi. Tsumugi would get up and put in a vase, and the two would share breakfast together like always. It was the same for the past three years, Tsumugi felt his stomach rumble, he wasn’t a fan of breaking routine.

Tsumugi stared at his ticket, luckily recognizing the location he picked. He had to go, to leave, to abandon everything he had here with Tasuku that he impulsively arrived at the station with nothing but a suitcase and hopes for amnesia. However, it could’ve helped if Tsumugi even knew where this town was in Japan exactly, where his new start would be. He just knew it was far enough, and Tasuku would never find him there.

Tsumugi couldn’t help but think of how Tasuku must have been doing. Was he okay? Did he just think Tsumugi was out doing random errands? They were low on eggs, that could’ve bought him some time. Yet, some part of him, some selfish, undeserving fraction of his heart, wanted Tasuku to be running to the train station and taking him home. Back into his arms and safe from every insecurity Tsumugi ever had, Tsumugi wanted to come home.

As Tsumugi stood up, clutching his luggage with him and turning towards the exit to apologize to his boyfriend, the automated voice overheard announced his train was leaving in five minutes. Tsumugi stopped, the crowd pushing against his direction as they all headed towards the train. Tsumugi slowly turned too, forcing himself towards the entrance as he looked back once. Tasuku wasn’t there, maybe he didn’t want him to come back.

Tsumugi entered the train and found his seat, refusing to look out of his window. If he did, he would’ve saw Tasuku sprinting down the train station corridors and missing the train that took off.

If only, Tsumugi closed his eyes and leaned his head against the window as he sat alone, he was enough for Tasuku.

But, he wasn’t. Not now.

WANNA PUT AN END TO THIS WINTER

HOW MUCH LONGING SHOULD WE SEE SNOWING DOWN, TO HAVE THE DAYS OF SPRING, FRIEND?

When Tasuku departed the train station, out of breath from his fastest mile time yet, it began to snow. God must’ve hated him, wanted him to suffer, because Tasuku dropped down onto a bench for cover and stared at the snowflakes. He thought about how Tsumugi would’ve reacted, knowing how much his lover adored the winter season.

It was when Tsumugi’s timid, shy voice would amplify when he discussed anything he loved (did Tsumugi ever do that when the topic approached Tasuku?). Tsumugi would excitedly rave about the Christmas lights decorating the mall plaza that illuminated every shadow on his face in a rainbow of colors, the peppermint candy cane in his hot chocolate with those tiny marshmallows Tasuku always found too sweet but pretended to like anyways, even the minature train set up for the little kids to ride on and the fake but enthusiastic Santa sitting on a throne (Tsumugi liked reminding everyone Tasuku believed in Santa until third grade, much to his embarrassment).

Most importantly, Tsumugi loved the snow. When the first snow came, Tsumugi dropped everything he was doing to run outside and take it all in. More than once, Tasuku had to follow his boyfriend and attempt to convince Tsumugi to come inside or else he’d get sick. But, when Tasuku saw the white snowflakes surrounded Tsumugi’s midnight blue hair like a halo, the youthful energy building in his wide, happy eyes, and the way Tsumugi’s cheeks were flushed just waiting to be adored, Tasuku would stay outside for his angel even if it meant nursing him back to health.

Tasuku reached his hand out, feeling the soft embrace of the snow upon his fingertips. Was this a sign Tsumugi was still with him? Or, was this the universe’s fucked–up way of telling him to move on? His hand started shaking again, Tasuku dropped it to his side, wondering if it was because the temperature dropped significantly or he was still experiencing the side–effects of an anxiety attack. Frustrated, Tasuku wiped the tears off his face as he took out his phone and tried again. It went straight to voicemail, and Tasuku blinked away the remaining tears as he looked up at the grey clouds.

“Hello~ This is Tsukioka Tsumugi, I’m so sorry for not responding! If you have a message, please share at this beep! Beep~”

Tasuku hung onto every word, pretending like Tsumugi was next to him admiring the snow with awe. But, he wasn’t, not now or not ever for the next few years. Tasuku shivered, steeling his face as he sadly stared at the snow, wishing it wasn’t winter.

“Look outside. It’s the first snow.” Tasuku simply stated before hanging up, standing up and leaving the station. Tasuku didn’t look back, there was nothing for him left anymore, not even Tsumugi.

The snow seemed to follow him home, Tasuku wondered if the snow would bring Tsumugi back to him. Back home, back to him.

LIKE THE TINY DUST FLOATING IN THE AIR

WILL I GET TO YOU FASTER, IF I WAS THE SNOW IN THE AIR?

Tsumugi woke up just a hour later, awaken by the train chugging along the icy tracks as the passengers murmured something about the cold. Blinking slowly, Tsumugi adjusted his eyes to the darkened sky as he watched the urban city transform into a rural, country landscape. Yet, no matter where he went, there was snow.

Sitting up, Tsumugi pressed his face against the glass as he giddily admired the first snow of the winter season. He turned to the empty seat next to him, a big smile on his tired face.

“Ta–chan, look—” Tsumugi started, before his voice faded off to silence. An awkward, sheepish laugh left his lips when Tsumugi noticed the train attendant was shooting odd glances at him, though he expected some reaction since Tsumugi was an adult talking to nothing. Tsumugi shuffled back to look through the window, but it wasn’t the same. When was the last time he had experienced the first snow alone? Tasuku was always with him, but not anymore.

The snow swirled like it was a graceful waltz, and Tsumugi fondly remembered him and Tasuku’s first dance. It was perhaps a year into living together as roommates, and it was much later than they had anticipated. The radio was on, classical music a low hum in the background as Tasuku and Tsumugi studied their new scripts. It was another college play and the two were meant to learn ballroom dancing for their roles.

Tsumugi remembered the way Tasuku’s large frame let Tsumugi rest his head comfortably on his chest, the way their hands perfectly fit together, how they swayed in their empty kitchen like they were married. Tsumugi faintly traced his lips, remembering how Tasuku was about to lean in when he looked down, but Tsumugi had laughed and pushed him away, talking about how Tasuku always got too serious and connected to his characters. He regretted it, he should’ve kissed Tasuku back then.

Tsumugi finally broke down, trying to keep in his sobs as he tried to focus on the snow. He curled into a fetal position on the seat, closing his jacket around his mouth as he slammed his eyes shut. He knew his sniffles couldn’t be heard over the train operating, so he cried underneath the first snow.

Tsumugi didn’t even kiss Tasuku before he left forever.

SNOWFLAKES FALL DOWN AND GET FARTHER AWAY LITTLE BY LITTLE

I MISS YOU, I MISS YOU

HOW LONG DO I HAVE TO WAIT AND HOW MANY SLEEPLESS NIGHTS DO I HAVE TO SPEND TO SEE YOU, TO MEET YOU

Tsumugi stepped into the snow. After thanking the train conductor and checking out, the quiet town was covered in snow by the time he arrrived. It was still early afternoon, the tall skyscrapers and bustling citylife were gone, it was quiet now. This would be his community for the rest of his life, just hours away from his home. He was about to become a new person, but, how could he when the snow followed wherever he was?

Tsumugi stood at the entrance, not blocking anyone’s way since no one was there to begin with. It was just him underneath the roof of the station, waiting by the route map for a bus. It should be here in the next thirty minutes, so Tsumugi leaned against the exterior with a sigh, his breath soldifying mid–air. It was cold, frozen almost and Tsumugi’s hands felt like ice from being outside. It was winter, after all.

Fidgeting, Tsumugi shifted back and forth as he tried to find something to look at other than the snow. But, the vast land stretched for miles, buried in white like a snow globe. There was nothing here, and Tsumugi was afraid there was nothing for him as well.

A buzz. It caught Tsumugi’s attention as he impulsively checked his phone despite his rule not to. The silence must’ve turned off after a certain amount of time, as Tsumugi scrolled through the notifications bar. Just some colleagues congratulating him on his move, and family members requesting postcards. That was it, Tsumugi was about to close out of the messages before he noticed a number he memorized near the voicemail section.

Tsumugi pressed speaker, putting the phone next to his ear as he heard the stomp of work boots against the snow. And then, a quiet shudder, like a breath he held in for too long. Tasuku spoke but it sounded far away, like he really wasn’t there anymore.

“Look outside. It’s the first snow.” The line ended and Tsumugi blinked, trying to keep his tears in but he was so exhausted. Tsumugi dropped down to sit against the wall, sobbing loudly with no one to hear him for miles. Tsumugi held the phone to his chest, replaying the voicemail over and over again just to hear the love of his life’s voice. The same as always, never–changing and serious like his life depended on it.

Tsumugi cried and cried under the first snow until his bus arrived, the driver staring at him with something of concern. Tsumugi pushed himself back up at the sound of the bus stopping and gripped his bag, heading up the stairs and trying to pay the fare respectfully. A single word wasn’t exchanged, but the driver simply shook his head and gestured for him to go sit anywhere he wanted.

Tsumugi was too tired to insist on paying, just numbly nodded and rested his head against the window.

He wondered if Tasuku was looking at the same sky as him right now.

PASSING BY THE EDGE OF COLD WINTER

UNTIL THE DAYS OF SPRING, UNTIL THE DAYS OF FLOWER BLOSSOMS

PLEASE STAY, PLEASE STAY THERE A LITTLE LONGER

Tasuku called Tsumugi every day until the number was changed. He had left voicemails updating Tsumugi of his day, his days that were all the same. Every time Tasuku tried to apologize, his pride couldn’t make him say sorry without sounding like he was being forced, so he didn’t. Tasuku didn’t insist Tsumugi to come home, only to stay safe and take his time.

Tasuku told Tsumugi about their favorite theatre holding another play, one which he would have gotten front row tickets for. About how strangely quiet it was, not having to keep a watering of plants schedule anymore, having to wake up and go to sleep alone, not knowing where Tsumugi was. Tasuku spoke more than he ever did back then, knowing if this was his only way to be in touch with Tsumugi, he was going to take it and run like hell.

It was mid–winter early morning, and Tasuku was running, phone against his ear as he instinctually nearly picked a flower to bring home. He stopped, slightly panting as he waited for Tsumugi’s typical voicemail, but it didn’t beep. Instead, it was an automated voice, informing him this number was currently inactive.

Tasuku realized, that number was one of the only things he had left of Tsumugi.

Tasuku hung up, in disbelief as he pocketed his phone. Did he even listen to his voicemails? Where was he? Why couldn’t he just answer? Tasuku was about to phone Tsumugi again just to make sure, but one look at his contact picture was enough to make him stop and put it away. He knew too much about Tsumugi, but he had never felt this confused about someone in his entire life. Was this, for the best? Why did he change his number? Was this a sign?

Perhaps, it was finally time to move on, as the snow fell around Tasuku.

IS IT YOU WHO CHANGED, OR IS IT ME?

I HATE THIS MOMENT, THIS TIME FLOWING BY

WE ARE CHANGED, YOU KNOW

JUST LIKE EVERYONE YOU KNOW

Tsumugi tried to moved on, forgetting all about his past as he buried himself in his work and need to just ignore his past. He regularly updated his family on his predicament, claiming it was his mid–life crisis despite being in his early twenties. None of them asked about Tasuku, it was like they knew what had happened between them. Tsumugi built himself a life on a lie, conversing well with co–workers but coming back to an empty apartment at the end of the day.

At night, that’s when Tsumugi thought about Tasuku the most. Laying in bed through the sleepless nights without any want to close his eyes. How could he when all Tsumugi could see was Tasuku, Tasuku who he left because he was scared. Tsumugi stared up at the ceiling, the moonlight coming in through his open window as the curtains swayed slightly in the wind. The room was blue, and so was Tsumugi.

Leaving wasn’t planned, but it wasn’t a quick decision, either. Tsumugi remembered it all, falling in love with his best friend which he wasn’t worthy of. It was the night before everything changed, the last argument they had together. It was late, so late Tsumugi couldn’t keep his eyes open without crying when Tasuku raised his voice. He knew he didn’t mean to, he knew that now.

But back then, Tsumugi was so scared and trembling and terrified of how big Tasuku was. How intense he was with everything he said, the unrelenting passion burning and fueling Tasuku to do everything he did. Tasuku was fire, uncontrollable, raging flames that over time, melted Tsumugi to be nothing but a weak form of who he used to be.

“Tsumugi, why do you always give up like this? You can’t quit, you can’t keep doing this!” Tasuku demanded an answer, slamming his fist down on the kitchen table as he stood up, making Tsumugi flinch in his usual seat. When Tsumugi had told Tasuku they needed to talk, he didn’t expect this. Not the burning anger in Tasuku’s eyes, like this was the ultimate betrayal: to quit acting.

“I... I’m so sorry, Ta–chan.” Tsumugi tried to smile, but his form was shaking. He was shivering despite waking up in the middle of the night in Tasuku’s arms. Tasuku scoffed, like this whole situation was unbelievable, like he didn’t even know who Tsumugi was.

“We—you promised we’d be acting on the same stage together, to be in the same troupe together, do you remember that?” Tasuku spoke, all the frustrations he hid inside him coming out and singing every corner of Tsumugi’s stability. Tsumugi nodded carefully, trying to hide his shaky hands underneath the table as he gripped the base of the chair. He couldn’t start crying, not right now, not in front of Tasuku.

“I know, but I can’t. Not anymore, not when I can’t be the actor you want me to be.” Tsumugi tried to reason, but Tasuku just became even angrier. Like, this was the worst possible thing he could have ever said to him. Tsumugi wanted to reach out and flatten the creases on Tasuku’s forehead, gently cup his face with his trembling hands just to show he still loved him. But when Tsumugi tried to move closer, Tasuku held his hand up, like he couldn’t bear being anywhere near Tsumugi.

“Why do you keep doing this? Why... when we’re happy together?” Tasuku asked, but even he sounded unsure. Was Tsumugi happy with this relationship? Was this why he was quitting? Tsumugi didn’t say anything, just stared at his lover in silence with the pain of a thousand lifetimes. As if, this was his breaking point. Like, acting was slowly killing him to the point he had to run away. Or was it their relationship that pushed Tsumugi away? Did it go too fast? Was it not enough?

“What does this mean for us?” Tsumugi finally choked out, clearing his throat at his voice crack towards the end. The clock ticked, onward and onward even though it felt like time stopped. Tasuku just shook his head and went back into the bathroom. Tsumugi knew, this was the end.

Before Tasuku went, he stopped at the entrance and looked at Tsumugi, with something of tiredness and love all at once. Like, there was still a chance. “Let’s talk about this tomorrow morning, okay?” Tasuku offered, not questioning a thing when Tsumugi nodded with his fingers crossed behind his back.

Tsumugi stayed in the kitchen, keeping in his sobs as he let the tears finally fall down his face. He didn’t know ending his career would feel like the end of his first and only relationship.

Tsumugi went into their shared bedroom after he composed himself, but had to hang onto the door frame when he saw Tasuku was sleeping again, just with dried tears on his pillow. Tsumugi couldn’t do this to Tasuku, not when he couldn’t be the best actor for his boyfriend.

So, Tsumugi just took the suitcase he packed beforehand in case worst came to worst, he didn’t expect to use it. Tsumugi quietly was about to leave the bedroom, but looked back, wanting nothing more than to go back to bed and pretend like this break up never happened. He knew how much Tasuku must’ve been hurting, to have all these years acting together thrown away. Tsumugi couldn’t be selfish this time, not anymore, and left without another word.

Tsumugi always remembered it, how Tasuku cried himself to sleep because Tsumugi quit. That was all he could do, give up when it became too hot. That’s all he always did, nothing changed.

Tsumugi listened to the voicemails one last time, crying into his pillow as he heard the man he loved’s voice echo in his bedroom. He knew, he had to let go, to force Tasuku to move on. How could Tasuku love him after all this time, when he wasn’t the person he thought Tsumugi was? Which life was a lie, this one or the one where he acted on stage with Tasuku?

When Tsumugi changed his number, he didn’t look back. He had to move on, too, even if he was still in love with his best friend. Tsumugi would never see Tasuku again, knowing he was somewhere living his dream of acting was enough, that was more than enough. Tsumugi closed his eyes as the snow embraced him, falling delicately upon his eyelashes as a single tear dropped to the ground.

Tsumugi promised one day, he would see Tasuku on stage again.

YES I HATE YOU, YOU LEFT ME

BUT I NEVER STOPPED THINKING ABOUT YOU, NOT EVEN A DAY

HONESTLY I MISS YOU, BUT I’LL ERASE YOU

‘CAUSE IT HURTS LESS THAN TO BLAME YOU

Tasuku couldn’t move on. Not when he didn’t know where his boyfriend disappeared to, not when no one refused to tell him anything and lied their way out of the situation. It was as if everybody knew but Tasuku, as if he wasn’t that important to know to begin with. He couldn’t accept that Tsumugi was gone, that he was somewhere else out of his reach.

Recently, Tasuku started sleeping sooner just to dream of his face again. But it had been so long, that even small details he cherished were beginning to become blurry, faded even. It was better than nothing, pretending the love of his life was still here with him. Like he never left, like he had no reason to leave.

Why did he leave? Tasuku came home from practice and slammed the door that night, shaking the room as he entered. Without warning, glass shattered next to his feet as a picture frame fell. Tasuku picked it up with his bare hands, ignoring the sudden cut he got on his fingers as he gripped the frame tightly, staring at the picture with a sudden anger. Rage, undeniable, full–blown frustration that boiled ever since Tsumugi left. Something Tasuku had been avoiding to confront, something he didn’t want to do to avoid satisfying the demons.

But, Tasuku was so angry. Why did Tsumugi quit acting without telling him before the decision? Didn’t he trust him, why didn’t he trust him? Tasuku swore, kicking the pieces of glass to fly across the floor. What did he do wrong? Why wasn’t he worthy of Tsumugi’s love? Tasuku was shaking with rage, staring at Tsumugi’s photographed face and wondering if everything the angel convinced him of was a ploy, a fabricated web of lies that trapped him like a fool. Did Tsumugi even love him? Why did he lie about tomorrow morning? Why did he leave?

Why did he quit on them?

Tasuku shouted, releasing all the pent–up grief inside him as he threw the frame at the wall with a sickening thud, watching as it smashed even more. Why did he quit? Why, why, why? If only they talked the next morning, maybe Tasuku could’ve persuaded him to keep going, to stay with him, to not give up. Tasuku carefully went over to the photo, pulling out of the frame as he held it with both hands, sadly staring at Tsumugi. This was all he had left of him.

Tasuku tried to rip it in half, but his hands didn’t move. There was nothing he could have done, he couldn’t bring himself to break his heart even more. Tasuku let out a strangled sob, letting the picture flutter to the floor as he roughly pushed his own tears away, hating how tired he was from crying so much.

This was all he had left of Tsumugi, but maybe he didn’t want it anymore. Tasuku caught sight of the nightly snow. Maybe, he had to move on or else there would be nothing left for him.

Wherever Tsumugi was, it wasn’t with Tasuku, and that was the greatest betrayal of all.

I TRY TO EXHALE YOU IN PAIN, LIKE SMOKE, LIKE WHITE SMOKE

I SAY THAT I’LL ERASE YOU, BUT I CAN’T REALLY LET YOU GO YET

Tsumugi sat back row, farthest away from the stage years later. It was closing night for God Troupe, unforeseeably Tasuku’s last show for the troupe as Tsumugi watched with tears. Tasuku had grown so much, got even stronger and had the same stoic, serious persona as always. But his passion was even more electric, more intense, and more fiery all at once. It burned every time Tasuku immersed his entire soul in his character and it was like he wasn’t even himself anymore. Tsumugi almost didn’t recognize him, but his heart called out like it was still in love.

Tsumugi needed closure, just one last time he’d see his best friend. Although years had passed, Tsumugi still loved him and thought of Tasuku every time. He knew Tasuku didn’t feel the same, at least, not anymore. But, he promised himself that he would see Tasuku on stage again, Tsumugi couldn’t keep breaking his honor anymore, he had to keep this word. Tsumugi thought about his life, and how it was split between life before and after Tasuku, but no matter which stage he was at, Tasuku was always there.

Tasuku was always there, but not Tsumugi. Tsumugi left on his own accord, and to this day, he regretted it. As the show ended and Tasuku took a graceful bow towards the audience, Tsumugi gripped the bouquet of flowers in his hands as he shook, hiding behind the audience giving a standing ovation. There was no way in his right mind he could walk up and expect Tasuku to accept him back into his life, because that was unfair. To come back after all these years, not anymore, he had his wish fulfilled, now it was time to leave again.

Before Tsumugi could leave into the train station and disappear into the night, a flyer flew across the sky as it landed directly in front of Tsumugi’s feet. As he was about to board the train, Tsumugi picked it up and read the title, auditions for a threatre troupe named Mankai. He had seen their Autumn Troupe play, and it even made him want to step onto stage again. The doors were about to close, about to take Tsumugi away from Veludo Way and Tasuku forever. He didn’t know what possessed him to do so, but Tsumugi quickly departed and hurried out of the station. Auditions were tomorrow, something told him he had to be there.

Tsumugi stared at the white roses, feeling the thorns pierce his palm as he exhaled into the frigid air. It was about to be winter again, after all these years, he’d have his first snow under the same sky as Tasuku again.

Tsumugi couldn’t leave again, not now. Tsumugi wanted to be worthy of giving white roses to Tasuku.

YOU KNOW IT ALL, YOU’RE MY BEST FRIEND

THE MORNING WILL COME AGAIN, NO DARKNESS, NO SEASON IS ETERNAL

Practice was tense with everything left unsaid between the two leads. Tasuku and Tsumugi saw each other after a street act, and the rest was unexplained history. The moment Tsumugi saw his ex–boyfriend, he winced when Tasuku glared at him with all the hatred in the world. He knew he deserved it, but it didn’t hurt any less.

Nothing could have indicated Tasuku still loved him: every time Tsumugi walked into a room, he’d leave muttering about the burden he had to carry, when Tsumugi was talking, he looked like he wasn’t listening, sometimes when Tsumugi acted, Tasuku wasn’t even connected to his character and would just refuse to cooperate. It was hurting the play, Tsumugi didn’t know what to do as the leader of Winter Troupe but also as a lovesick liar in love with his best friend.

Tasuku was rightfully angry. He had been angry ever since he broke that picture frame, it was the official end of their relationship. Tasuku never thought he’d see Tsumugi’s face again on Veludo Way, not after missing each and every single one of his God Troupe shows. Here he was, claiming his place in Tasuku’s broken heart like he had never left. But, he did. Tsumugi did leave and abandon him to the city, giving no answers and only raising more questions after all these years. How could he come back after all he did? Tasuku was angry, but he didn’t know if he was spiteful towards what happened between them or scared that Tsumugi might run away again.

Every time Tsumugi acted, it was like they were back in college all over again. Tsumugi never changed despite his multiple years of being on break, his acting style was subdued and simple, subtle but honest, it carried more feeling than Tasuku could ever describe. They were opposites, Tasuku was not everflowing like water, he wasn’t adaptable and constant like a river bend, but crackling with energy and passion like a flame. Maybe, that’s why Tsumugi left, so he wouldn’t extinguish both of them.

When Tsumugi looked into his eyes at the practice room, Tasuku’s breath hitched in his throat as he didn’t pay attention to the script, staring back with nothing but coldness. Frigid like the winter Tsumugi loved so much, maybe if he was just as freezing and indifferent, Tsumugi would still love him.

“You’re my best friend—” Tsumugi started but Tasuku turned on his heel and left without warning, slamming the door behind him as he ran. Ran to wherever was far away from his best friend. He wanted it to be true so bad, but not when he could be abandoned again without mercy.

Tasuku didn’t want to leave, but he had to or else he’d want to stay forever with Tsumugi. If Tsumugi left this time, he didn’t know how he’d move on this time.

MAYBE IT’S CHERRY BLOSSOMS AND THIS WINTER WILL BE OVER

I MISS YOU, I MISS YOU

WAIT A LITTLE BIT, JUST A FEW MORE NIGHTS

I’LL BE THERE TO SEE YOU, I’LL GO THERE TO MEET YOU

I’LL COME FOR YOU

Tsumugi was gone, again.

When Tasuku woke up from a nightmare of their last fight again to an empty dorm, his heart nearly stopped as he scrambled out of bed, flipping Tsumugi’s duvet over to find nothing but wrinked sheets. He couldn’t have left, how dare he? Leave when he had Winter Troupe under his name, after years of not seeing each other, how could he—Tasuku looked towards the window and stopped, staring outside as the moonlight illuminated the cold night sky in Veludo Way.

It was the first snow of winter.

Tasuku knew what he had to do, old habits die hard, after all. Tasuku didn’t bother putting a coat on, just rushing outside leaving the door open as he ran to the courtyard, snow crunching underneath his feet as he paused at the edge. Tsumugi was standing still in his pajamas, that blue sweatshirt he kept with “Snowdrop” on it covering his shaking hands as his head was tilted back, staring at the snow with wonder and amazement. It was the happiest Tsumugi looked, and Tasuku’s heart simmered down a little bit as he carefully approached closer, like he was afraid of scaring him away forever.

Tsumugi snapped out of his trance when Tasuku covered his shoulders with a blanket, whipping his face towards the taller male with a surprised look, not realizing how close they were. Tasuku couldn’t move his hands from Tsumugi’s shoulders, he couldn’t look away from Tsumugi’s teary eyes as Tsumugi let out a forced laugh, the air around him freezing as it disappeared like smoke.

“Go inside, you’ll get sick before the play.” Tasuku ordered, but made no effort to pull him in. Tsumugi blinked, nodding as he focused on Tasuku’s eyes, he had so many questions he only imagined asking. Tsumugi couldn’t read a thing about Tasuku, it was like he was a stranger he would never see again. But under this snow, under the same sky, they were together again, and it was more than whatever Tsumugi deserved.

“Dance with me.” Tsumugi breathed out, guiding Tasuku’s hands to his waist as he took his hand, not knowing why he needed this so bad. Tasuku was about to object before Tsumugi placed his head on his shoulder, holding in the tears as he begged, “Please, just one last time”. Tasuku stiffly nodded, gripping his hand like he didn’t want to ever let go. It was silent, but the two swayed like they were back in their apartment kitchen, a year into university with nothing to worry about except being on stage together.

“Why’d you go outside?” Tasuku asked, gently spinning Tsumugi like he was made of glass. When he spun back into his arms, Tsumugi sadly smiled, like this was the warmest he’d ever feel again.

“I needed to know if you’d come for me.” Tsumugi whispered, afraid of breaking the moment as he gazed up at the man he was in love with. He had his answer, Tasuku would still follow him even if it meant freezing from the snow at midnight. Tsumugi knew it was selfish, but...

He wanted to be selfish, just one more time. When Tsumugi stood on his toes to inch forward, nervously trembling from what he was risking right now, Tasuku didn’t react. He didn’t move, just took Tsumugi in like he wasn’t going to get this ever again. Like, this was the final goodbye they were supposed to promise each other that next morning.

It was long overdue. Tasuku saw how Tsumugi was about to run away again, lean back and leave. Not again, not if he couldn’t help it. Tasuku closed the distance, as if making up for all the time they lost as they kissed under the first snow, knowing there was so much to be said but not having the heart to bring back the past. It was too much, too much that Tsumugi couldn’t help but pull him back when Tasuku was about to move. He was so selfish, he just wanted Tasuku in this moment even if it meant never communicating with him again, he was in love with a man he had hurt over and over again.

“Promise me,” Tasuku mumbled before their lips met again, staring into Tsumugi’s eyes with no familiarity whatsoever. It was like they were two completely different people who had no connection to each other, two strangers that would’ve walked by each other without a second glance. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow morning.”

This time, Tsumugi nodded without crossing his fingers, his hands wrapped around Tasuku’s neck as he pulled him back down, knowing they had tomorrow to talk. To heal, to mend, to fix whatever was damaged. If Tasuku would let him back, if he let Tsumugi prove he was different now, better now, worthy of any relationship Tasuku wanted.

They were different people now, but it was the first snow of a winter they finally had together after a long, long time.

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