Archive of Our Own

SILVIUS

O, thou didst then never love so heartily.

If thou rememb’rest not the slightest folly

That ever love did make thee run into,

Thou hast not loved.

-

Rui almost told Nene about it once. 

Interestingly enough, it had been when the two of them were in the quietness of his garage with the only sounds breaking the silence being the taps of the buttons on Nene’s controller and the clink of metal as Rui experimented. It was only a few weeks after the four of them had performed their final show at Phoenix Wonderland, uncertain about the future but willing to step into the unknown together. They’d been happy. 

However, Rui found that once he’d arrived home that night, long after their celebration at a cafe and even longer after their final bow, that he couldn’t help but think back to the words Nene had expressed to Emu. They’d been emotional but expectant. A promise lingered behind them, one to listen to her, to smile with her, to cry with her…

“If you’re gonna cry…Then cry when we’re here!” 

It was a sentiment they all agreed with, but Rui had caught a glimpse of the determination in Nene’s tear-filled eyes as she spoke, a clear indication of how much she valued simply being present. She wouldn’t want anyone’s emotions to be a secret. 

So, when he considered that along with her own promise directly to him to wait for when he was ready, it made him entertain the thought of telling her. At the time, he’d figured it’d been long enough since the offer and that they were, as a troupe, resolved enough in their decision to handle such a discussion.

On the particular day, Rui had raised his head from the circuitry in his hands, turned to face Nene and contemplated how to approach the topic. No matter her reaction, he’d surely know how to proceed afterwards. Surely he’d be able to tell Emu and Tsukasa.

It wasn’t indecision that caused him to hesitate. When he thought back to the exchange with Asahi, he found the answer quite obvious. Though he’d relied on logic and initially accepted, his emotions had rejected the offer for him. However, it was the future, what was to come after his inevitable graduation from Kamiyama, and the overdue conversation regarding the whole ordeal that gave him pause. 

“You alright?” Nene’s voice broke through the silence and Rui’s thoughts simultaneously. She’d lowered her controller and now gazed at him incredulously, eyebrows raised. 

“Of course,” Rui replied, signature smile coming to his face. The prior confidence he had felt dissipated like smoke. “Why do you ask?”

“I felt you staring at me. It was so unnerving that I lost my match,” she said, narrowing her eyes.

Though she appeared annoyed, he could see the underlying concern. They’d known each other long enough that it was impossible to not notice. 

"Your immediate questioning of my well-being says otherwise," Rui teased, attempting to divert her attention.

"This is the last time I show genuine care for you," she said. Plainly untrue as she’d said that several times, but Rui had no time to comment on it as Nene continued, “So?”

It didn’t seem like she was going to let up anytime soon so Rui sighed deeply and resigned to tell a half-truth.

“I was simply lost in thought,” he said. “About our future.”

Her face immediately softened, losing the mock frustration. “What about it?”

“What do you plan to do after you graduate?” Rui replied with a question of his own.

Nene raised an eyebrow, but nonetheless placed her controller aside as she thought. “Apply for a musical theater program, participate in more workshops, hopefully see more shows internationally… I’m going to continue to follow Kazamatsuri-san’s advice.” She gestured in his direction. “Isn’t this more of a question for you and Tsukasa?”

“I suppose so, but I was still interested in your answer,” he said, avoiding speaking about himself. “That’s a wonderful plan, Nene.”

She nodded in thanks. “Are you just unsure?”

He was. Though, his uncertainty had little to do with university applications. “Something like that.”

“If it’s because you’re worried about our troupe, don’t be,” Nene reassured. “Being able to freelance is giving us the flexibility we need to stay together.”

She picked up her controller once again, gazing at it before stretching to grab another from her bag. She extended the second one out to Rui. 

“It’s okay to think a little more about yourself. We will learn together and then whenever we get opportunities to branch out, we will always have each other to return to.”

He looked at Nene’s face, full of gentle resolution and fought the urge to say it then. She wasn’t aware that he’d done nothing more than think about it. Since the four of them had set upon a new path, it was impossible for Rui not to dwell on what was rapidly coming next. It was ironic that after fighting so hard to stay with them, he could potentially be the one to actually leave first. 

For now, though, Rui simply attempted to smile as he reached out and accepted the controller. 

-

The next time he thought to discuss it was following a phenomenon in the SEKAI. 

They’d each woken up from a dream that depicted a future in which they didn’t remain together. At the time, it’d felt so tangible that when Rui had opened his eyes to Miku worriedly shaking them all awake, he’d been confused over what was reality. For a moment, the sheer emotion from seeing the rest of the troupe hit him all at once and as they reunited, Rui found himself staying primarily silent. 

The dream not only showed them a different path but one that was set into motion by his own actions. He’d left first, willingly after Arcland opened the avenue and knowingly after speaking to his friends about it. It’d been outwardly painful, but they had all smiled and showed support. They’d let him go. 

That’s why… Rui couldn’t necessarily call it the wrong path. It was distinct and a little lonely, but it would’ve been nothing short of inconsiderate to leave the troupe that gave him so much to then do so little with a new one. To honor them, he had to go even further than doing his best. He had to achieve and somehow surpass his dream. 

Wrong or otherwise, though, the truth that he hadn’t mentioned it at all in reality persisted. 

The four of them were set to practice that afternoon in the SEKAI so they each went their separate ways to prepare. Everything Rui would need was already in the tent so he found a corner away from direct sight to be alone with his thoughts. He hadn’t been there long before Emu wandered in the same direction.

“Rui-kun?” She approached him with a raised eyebrow, certainly a little surprised to see him by himself with not one invention in sight.

“Emu-kun,” he greeted, aiming at being nonchalant.

His smile fell as soon as he realized how unnatural it felt on his face. As someone who had essentially mastered hiding her own emotions, Emu’s emotional intelligence was unmatched. Hiding how he felt from her would be useless. 

As she stepped closer, Rui instinctively moved over to share the corner with her. She settled next to him tentatively, leaning her head against his shoulder in silence. To anyone passing by, they probably looked quite childish, huddled together on the ground in the shadows of the SEKAI’s performance tent. 

“Sometimes when the plushies are thinking or feeling really hard, they go whoosh,” Emu whispered, blowing air gently. “Like they’ve lost their fluff.”

“Lost their fluff, huh?” Rui repeated, bringing a fist under his chin. “I imagine that would be quite the issue for sentient plushies.”

She nodded enthusiastically. “I tried to ask Kaito-oniisan about it once but he seemed confused.”

Resisting the grin that threatened to cross his face, he gasped dramatically. “Maybe he’s stealing their fluff!”

Emu mirrored his expression in disbelief, easily playing along. “Would he do that?!”

Rui chuckled then in amusement, noticing the slight tension that had been there since Emu had stumbled upon him begin to ease. The dread that had taken seconds to spread was already whisked away in the same amount of time. From the corner of his eye, Rui could see a small smile come to Emu’s face as she mindlessly toyed with the flowers around their feet.

“Kaito-san wouldn’t, but who knows what else would,” he replied thoughtfully. The SEKAI was fantastical after all. They’d been witness to their emotions alone causing changes amongst the plushies. From a logical standpoint, they were likely the ones unknowingly “stealing” their fluff. 

They lapsed into silence as Rui turned his attention to the clouds above as Emu remained captivated by the growth below. He braced himself, waiting patiently for the upcoming question. She’d clearly noticed how he was feeling and the mention of the plushies was a segway, one that only the two of them would recognize.

“Rui-kun,” she started after a few minutes, glancing at him in curiosity tinted with worry. “Have you lost your fluff?” She paused before continuing, “Or has something stolen it?” 

He didn’t respond immediately, taken aback. Was that how he appeared to her? Deflated?

“I believe all of my fluff is intact, Emu-kun,” Rui said simply, choosing to answer lightheartedly. Hopefully, she would be deterred from questioning further.

She wasn’t. “Did the dream make you sad?” 

He supposed it did, but that was only surface level. It was rather what the dream portrayed that didn’t particularly exist in reality. A situation where he had been more forthcoming with the rest of the troupe. How would they react now? 

“It made me sad,” Emu admitted, filling the silence. “I was… really happy when I woke up and realized it wasn’t real.” Her voice lowered slightly. “How about you, Rui-kun?”

For a bit, he toyed with the notion of communicating his thoughts to her. As Rui gazed into Emu’s eyes, earnest and open, the concept of keeping it secret seemed so trivial. He could share his emotions with her. That though he was glad to discover it was a dream, he also had to face the reality that part of it was real to him. And he’d hidden it. 

“You’ve become quite the expert at expressing yourself, haven’t you?” he asked rhetorically, wincing at the shakiness of his voice. “I suppose I felt…” Guilty. “Conflicted.” 

He waited warily for the follow-up question that never came. Instead, Emu grabbed his hand in hers and it was only then that Rui noticed his fingers were trembling as much as his voice. She held on tightly, squeezing once before letting him go. 

“The last time I felt like that, my best friends in the whole world found me crying alone,” she said with a smile as if the memory of their near disbandment had become something fond. “I don’t want you to be all alone, Rui-kun. I want your fluff to come back.”

His eyes widened slightly though he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Of course Emu was the one who approached him after he wandered off alone. She’d likely been worried since they had woken up and Rui had largely been silent in the aftermath. She’d seen a bit of herself in his reaction, separating himself to deal with his emotions alone. 

“I just…” Rui started, still a bit overwhelmed with the concept that someone could care so much for him. “I wonder if it was my fault.”

He wasn’t sure if she would know outright what he was referring to, but the images of himself overworking, of Tsukasa and Nene chasing competition and of Emu desperately holding on to the Wonder Stage were certainly at the forefront. By accepting Asahi’s offer, he’d completely changed the trajectory of their troupe and though it had fallen through in reality, it remained true that he had nonetheless accepted. 

Admitting that small truth was potentially the closest Rui could get to telling Emu how he truly felt. 

“Rui-kun is always caring about us,” Emu said. “You might be the first case of someone willingly giving their fluff away!”

She laughed a little, continuing simply, “I think you should keep more for yourself. It’s okay to care about yourself too.”

The way Emu spoke was almost as if she knew what was bothering him underneath the way he’d vaguely danced around it. Though, Rui also knew that her reassurance was more about the decision to further his skills rather than about the secretive nature that surrounded it in actuality. 

Still, he lowered his head to rest on top of hers, whispering out his gratitude while ignoring the way his eyes burned.

-

A third time didn’t come. 

It was quite strange, but Rui found that a sense of wariness stronger than usual arose when he thought about Tsukasa’s reaction. It had nothing to do with trust–that was felt mutually between the two of them–and everything to do with emotion. In the dream, Tsukasa had shakily given his support through a wobbly smile. In reality, he had told Rui to never hold back. Several times even.

And yet, as Rui sat opposite Tsukasa on the rooftop, watching him silently, he felt himself doing just that. 

“I would not be thy executioner,” Tsukasa recited proudly as Phoebe, hand placed across his chest. 

In between freelance work, they had taken to practicing classic Shakespearean scenes while providing their own context and alterations to them. That particular week yielded a very passionate interpretation of a monologue meant to reject romantic interest. Tsukasa, however, had opted for a more strict scenario in which the main character’s rejection could potentially cause literal physical harm. Therefore, the words said were to be taken simultaneously as a lack of interest as well as a mercy. 

“I fly thee, for I would not injure thee.” The words were spoken with conviction and twinged with the slightest sliver of sadness. Well executed and emotional, it was usual for Tsukasa.

Though Rui was only the receiver of such words by role alone, he still happened to feel the sting of rejection. Once again, he was captivated by Tsukasa’s performance no matter the stage of refinement whether his audience consisted of park guests or nothing but himself and the otherwise empty rooftop. Bitterly, a smile came to his face as he gazed down at the scene in his hands.

The SEKAI showed him that he could excel at Arcland, could showcase his talents, could chase his dreams… But, it appeared to come at the expense of forever chasing the feeling he got every day just by being with Tsukasa. Just as Silvius chased Phoebe in the lines of the script.

“Rui, are you tired?” Tsukasa’s question came suddenly and Rui’s head snapped up in response. He hadn’t even realized he’d been staring down for much too long, fidgeting mindlessly with the pages. 

“I’m fine,” he replied in an attempt to be reassuring. Discreetly, he relaxed his grip. “Why do you ask, Tsukasa-kun?”

“Despite having the privilege of viewing my marvelous execution, you appear to be distracted,” Tsukasa answered with a frown, hands placed on his hips. “That and the obvious puffiness under your eyes.”

“Those are natural,” Rui teased. Tsukasa continued to eye him, unimpressed so he simply sighed and admitted, “I may be slightly fatigued.”

Tsukasa’s eyebrows furrowed further in concern. “Did you stay up because of our show?”

He shrugged half-heartedly, smiling. 

It technically wasn’t a lie. For the past week since his conversation with Emu, Rui had found it impossible to sleep without his mind plaguing him with thoughts. Initially, it was random bits and pieces of the dream mixed with reality that eventually morphed into comparisons. No matter what, he seemed to work himself endlessly but it was only with one troupe that he found himself satisfied afterwards. 

“How do you expect to function properly on little sleep?” Tsukasa nagged. He had to know it was futile as Rui had a habit of staying up even when he wasn’t at odds with his mind. Still, the effort and concern aimed at him caused the slightest bit of affection to rise in his chest.

“I seem to have done well enough thus far,” Rui responded. “I don’t suppose yet another night of little sleep will result in my demise.”

Tsukasa said nothing, but he was overtly displeased by his words as he chose instead to take a seat next to Rui and pat his lap in a clear invitation. Blankly, Rui gazed between his hand and his face.

“Tsukasa-kun, I really don’t think this is necess—“

“Nonsense!” Rui barely had time to react as Tsukasa grabbed onto his shoulder and pulled him down to his lap. He blinked once in surprise and opened his eyes to the sight of blond hair, amber eyes and a wide smile above him. Distantly behind Tsukasa’s head was the sun, casting a halo of rays that Rui thought was quite ill-timed if he was looking to deny Tsukasa’s request. 

“Sometimes I wonder what you would do if I wasn’t around to look after you,” Tsukasa said, punctuating his sentence with a deep sigh and a shake of his head. 

A small part of him distantly wanted to remind him that the SEKAI had shown them just that, in which the times where Rui would willingly go with the rest of Wonderlands x Showtime to celebrate were then him distantly doing the same with Arcland. Playfully arguing with Tsukasa over eating vegetables was replaced with tight smiles and receiving words of congratulations that he felt he didn’t deserve.

Instead of speaking, Rui averted his eyes from Tsukasa’s in favor of looking out across the rooftop in an attempt to settle his quickening heart and ignore the obvious flush that had risen to his cheeks. 

Oblivious, Tsukasa lowered his fingers to Rui’s head, combing gently through his hair with one hand. Thoughts of pulling away, of not being so physically close to Tsukasa when he was so unsure, passed through his mind. However, Rui selfishly ignored them and focused on the feeling.

It was comforting to feel the drag of Tsukasa’s fingernails on his scalp before weaving through the strands of his hair. It had the potential to actually lull him to sleep, but first, he needed to know why the insistence.

“I appreciate the gesture, Tsukasa-kun, but are stars typically this forceful?”

Though Rui had turned away from him, he could visualize the look of displeasure on Tsukasa’s face as he gasped. “Is it a crime to care about my friend?”

Rui chuckled, closing his eyes. He had no intention of sleeping, but he figured he could allow himself to humor Tsukasa. It was rare that he chose to display such outward physical tenderness and Rui was almost certain that once he knew the truth behind his insomnia, Tsukasa would never do it again.

His movements continued for a few minutes, the chatter of the other students below the only sound that broke the silence. Eventually, though, Tsukasa’s voice softly asked, “Now…do you want to tell me the real reason you neglected to sleep?” 

Suddenly, Rui could no longer relax. His eyes shot open. “How did you…?”

“You underestimate me!” Tsukasa exclaimed, affronted. Nevertheless, his fingers didn’t stop moving as he explained. “The look in your eyes when I asked earlier… It was the same as during the Halloween show.”

Although Rui was unaware of how he appeared to Tsukasa then, he could chance a guess. His subconscious actions had been easily seen through by the very person he’d been terrified of losing. Now, that same person was doing it yet again. The same hesitation from then had been nothing but apparent to Tsukasa. 

“Tell me what you’ve been thinking about.” 

He didn’t say it intensely. Rather, Tsukasa spoke as if it was a given that Rui would share his thoughts. Facing away from him with the warmth of his hand still in his hair, he found it a bit easier to contemplate how to answer. 

“The SEKAI,” he said finally, giving Tsukasa the vaguest look in. 

“SEKAI?” Tsukasa repeated in confusion.

“It’s marvelous,” Rui explained, pushing past his ever-present nervousness when it came to such a topic. “But quite terrifying as well. Inside it, I’m faced with my emotions—even those I haven’t yet had the time to ponder on myself—so fiercely on display.”

Tsukasa’s expression lit up in understanding. “Are you referring to the dream?”

“Partially,” Rui answered. He searched for the words, formulating an explanation without laying bare everything underneath.  “I… found the aftermath uncomfortable.”

“Because the four of us were separated?”

“Because of how real it felt.” 

“Even though we woke up?” Tsukasa questioned.

“I didn’t. Or rather, I feel like I didn’t,” Rui clarified. “I find myself more often than not back in that moment. The one that caused everything.”

Similar to his talks with Nene and Emu, he found himself sharing more than intended and holding the desire to do so. However, there was still the slight apprehension that made his heart beat ever so slightly faster that stopped him from conveying it all fully.

“That sounds like you’re blaming yourself,” Tsukasa retorted with a frown.

“I…” It was his fault, wasn’t it?

“Don’t.” The word was spoken resolutely. As if he knew that if he didn’t stop Rui from completing the sentence, whatever followed would be detrimental. “Your ideas are so wonderful that even The Center Theatre can’t help but want to work with you. Isn’t that something to be proud of?”

Normally, it would be. The chance to work on such a grand stage with an ensemble of actors whose talent was unmatched was truly something that he initially believed he could only wish for. However, when such an opportunity finally arose, he found himself conflicted to no end. Though, Rui couldn’t tell that to Tsukasa so he opted for an end to the conversation. 

“You’re right, Tsukasa-kun,” he replied quietly with a chuckle.

“Of course I am! But…Rui?” Though he’d just mentioned pride, he seemed to be the one oozing with it. Tsukasa’s expression took on the softest of smiles, one that Rui admittedly treasured the sight of. One that he wished could always be directed towards him. “I’m glad you’re here with us. With me.”

For a brief moment, Rui was struck at the specification. He wanted nothing more than to reply with the same sentiment and express to Tsukasa once again just how much joy he’d received from them. From him. 

However, similar to when thoughts of the offer came to Rui’s mind, the words remained caught in his throat. After all, did he really deserve such happiness when he couldn’t even share something with them that had the ability to shape his future? He swallowed thickly, silent as unease quickly replaced the warmth that had crept up at Tsukasa’s words. Eventually, Rui only hummed in response and closed his eyes in an attempt to relish what little he could still feel of the quickly fading fondness. 

Though it provided the necessary distraction, Rui’s swirling emotions also caused him to fail to notice the brief hesitance of Tsukasa’s movements as he paused before mechanically resuming. 

-

Bits and pieces. 

Rui had given them specific parts and it only left him wondering why his inability to voice everything properly only grew stronger. However, sections only made up a whole. In the end, it was bound to reach completion.

Tsukasa didn’t know, couldn’t know, but he’d been eyeing Rui since their time on the rooftop a few days prior. He’d found it troubling immediately, but didn’t chance asking about it on the possibility that it could turn into a conversation he wasn’t yet prepared to have. Tsukasa, too, didn’t discuss anything out of their norm though Rui could tell there was something ever-present at the back of his mind.

When he didn’t feel the weight of Tsukasa’s gaze, he sometimes caught him staring out of their classroom’s windows, brows furrowed as he thought. In spite of the fact that he turned before Tsukasa noticed, the pit in his stomach only grew larger at the sight. 

Rui felt the last part screw into place as they practiced in the SEKAI. 

For a bit, he watched in the audience seats next to an enthused Emu as Tsukasa and Nene exchanged lines on stage. The scene, an emotionally-charged confrontation between their characters, progressed smoothly and it was mere minutes later that Rui was expected to deliver his own lines as the act wrapped up.

“Wherever sorrow, relief would be,” Rui said, the longing of his character seeping into his lines. “If you do sorrow at my grief in love, by giving love your sorrow and my grief were both extermined.”

“Thou hast my love,” Tsukasa responded, placing emphasis on the last word. “Is not that neighborly?”

“I would h…” Rui cut the line short, trailing off as he lifted his eyes off of the script to the sight of Tsukasa watching him intensely. The screw tightened. 

Tsukasa clutched the script in his hand tightly, crumpling it. “What did you mean?”

“What?” he asked, bewildered at the sudden break in character. 

“The other day. I tried to give you time to talk about it on your own, but it’s obvious it’s still bothering you, Rui.” He crossed his arms, the script an afterthought. “So, when you said it felt as if you didn’t wake up from the dream, what exactly did you mean?”

From his peripheral vision, Rui noticed Emu perk up as she listened. She, too, had most likely still been concerned about him after they’d spoken. He resisted the urge to grit his teeth in guilt. 

“It was exactly as you said, Tsukasa-kun,” Rui responded with a shake of his head. 

“And if I feel like there’s more to it than that?” Tsukasa’s eyes narrowed as he spoke, clearly having little intention of backing away from the subject. 

“What possibly would make you think that?” he asked, attempting a smile that he hoped would be considered natural. “Have I ever purposely misled you, Tsukasa-kun?”

He said it teasingly, but the rising tension didn’t ebb in the slightest. Tsukasa averted his eyes, staring down the stage before replying, “You didn’t respond.”

A beat of silence. “Huh?”

Despite his brief confusion, he had an idea of what Tsukasa was referring to. The moment in which he had smiled gently and told him just as softly about how glad he was that they were together. Rui had distinctly been unable to formulate the response that he knew he wanted to, he couldn’t . And now, it had created the exact situation he had been terrified of. 

“He’s right, you know,” Nene spoke up from her spot at the stage’s edge. “There’s been something on your mind for a while now.”

Once again, trepidation set in. He wasn’t sure how long he’d expected to keep the entire situation a secret, but the culmination of it all had come much too quickly, much too soon. Rui would’ve been mildly touched by how much they seemed to notice about him if he wasn’t so startled. 

“It’s okay, Rui-kun,” Emu said, leaning over to smile at him encouragingly. “There’s nothing you can’t share with us. Whatever it is, we’ll handle it together.”

How fitting it was that Emu expressed the same sentiment to him that Nene had shared with her. He almost smiled at the resemblance. 

Shakily, Rui took in a breath and glanced around. The sight of his friends on a magnificent stage…No matter the outcome after he brought forth the last piece, he hoped that it was a view he’d be able to see again. 

“The offer to join Arcland…” he started. “It’s real.”

Stunned silence enveloped them. Even the constant sounds of the SEKAI that seemed to always be present sounded muffled. 

“W-wait…” Nene spoke first, eyes wide. “As in, you were actually recruited?”

“Yes,” Rui replied with a nod. “Asahi-san approached me with the invitation the night before our joint performance. It was quite unexpected to say the least.”

The silence continued as they processed the new information. Rui watched as Nene threw a look to Emu, clearly beginning to connect his unhappiness the day they ran into each other to that situation. 

“That’s why you were deflated,” Emu said sadly. 

Another nod. 

“It seems that part of the dream was correct though the path was different,” Nene commented, a hand under her chin in thought. “It couldn’t have been easy to reject Asahi-san.”

Rui remained quiet, reluctant to tell them that the refusal actually had little to do with his own judgment. It appeared to serve as answer enough as he simultaneously felt Emu jolt next to him in surprise as Nene continued.

“You didn’t…” she surmised in quiet shock. 

“It’s true that I had an initial answer,” Rui rushed to explain though he was uncertain how much more context would aid. “But until after the performance, I hadn’t yet sorted through how I was feeling about it.”

“So this is what you were struggling with that day when Emu and I saw you…”

“You… you two knew ?” Tsukasa finally spoke up, disbelief clouding his expression as any trace of anything separate dissipated. 

Nene whirled around to face him, mildly distressed at the implication. “We only…we just…” she trailed off, her explanation fading. 

She glanced at Rui, likely in an attempt to have him fill in the gaps, but he was also at a loss. The situation had only escalated since his admittance and he was having a difficult time forming an explanation that made sense at the same speed. 

“It’s not like that, Tsukasa-kun!” Emu exclaimed, jumping up from her seat. “We didn’t know what was making Rui-kun unhappy!”

“But you were aware he was unhappy,” Tsukasa replied, grimacing. “I was so wrapped up in perfecting my performance that I didn’t… I didn’t even…”

He raised a hand to his face and for a brief moment, Rui saw a plethora of emotions cross. Shock, hurt, unease… Eventually, frustration was what he settled on. Fighting his own wave of emotion, he slowly stood and struggled to find the words. He couldn’t allow things to progress further without clarification.

Rapidly, he ran out of time. 

“Kaito, can you… accompany everyone out?” Tsukasa requested, addressing the virtual singer who stood in the shadows of the curtains along with Miku. Absorbed in their discussion, Rui hadn’t noticed their appearance from backstage until then. 

“But, Tsukasa-kun! We can’t leave it like this!” Emu exclaimed in distress. 

“She’s right,” Nene agreed, a bit shakily. “We should talk it over.”

“All I’m asking for is a little time. For even a fraction of how long this was kept a secret,” Tsukasa said. Rui couldn’t hear any indication of anger or sadness in his voice. He was uncharacteristically quiet. “Can I have that?”

Emu stepped forward, clearly on the cusp of protesting once again but Nene gripped the edge of her sleeve in an effort to hold her back. Helplessly, they both glanced at Rui. He smiled joylessly, already recognizing the similarity of the situation. 

Perhaps Emu wouldn’t understand the decision as the last time they faced such a thing, it was as a result of their impending separation from her. However, Nene seemed to catch on. Tsukasa’s downcast eyes, his lack of volume, his avoidance… It was familiar.

“Yes,” Rui answered finally, turning on his heel. “Nene, Emu-kun… let’s go.”

Tsukasa jolted in surprise at his agreement but retreated backstage nonetheless. Hurriedly looking between the two of them, Miku ultimately decided on staying behind with Tsukasa. After sharing a quick nod with Kaito, she rushed in his direction. Reluctantly, Kaito led them out of the tent where they gathered at the entrance, varying emotions on each of their faces. Emu was the first to break the growing tension. 

“What should we do?” she asked, worried. “Should we really leave him alone?”

“You may have no other choice,” Kaito said, dismayed. “His request wasn’t…unreasonable.”

He and Miku had remained silent throughout the entire exchange, likely attempting to give them the space to resolve it on their own. Now, in the aftermath, they were doing what they could to support. 

“The way Tsukasa spoke… he seemed upset with himself,” Nene said quietly. 

Rui couldn’t help but agree. Though it was his acceptance, his secrecy and later his avoidance that led to their current situation, Tsukasa didn’t appear to be frustrated with him. In essence, that was similar to the dream but it was also concerning. 

“Remember our Halloween show?” Emu asked rhetorically. “Tsukasa-kun was more angry with himself for getting injured than with Rui-kun. He blamed himself for Rui-kun pulling back.”

“So, he might be doing the same now,” Nene commented with a frown, displeased. She turned to Rui next. “Still…why did you keep this a secret?”

“I’m…unsure,” he answered truthfully after a moment of thought. Of course, it could be based solely on sentiment that arose when he thought of telling them, but it could simultaneously be more than that. “It could potentially be a mixture of things. It was a solved matter for the time being and I did feel fairly guilty for being so conflicted. Along with that, viewing what could’ve been if I had truly joined Arcland complicated things further.” He chuckled. “I must’ve been a better actor in the dream.”

Rui chanced a glimpse back at the tent, raising a hand over his heart. It beat steadily yet painfully in his chest. “My emotions rejected the offer for me. I told Asahi-san that it was only logical to accept to better myself, but he saw that my heart lied with Wonderlands x Showtime. He stated that his acting had yet to make me want to direct him.” 

“That’s one thing that seems to be special to Tsukasa-kun!” Emu exclaimed, grinning. 

“Tsukasa-kun himself is special. There’s no one like him,” Rui agreed, the first genuine smile of the day coming to his face. “Someone who’s passionate, diligently listens to my most outrageous requests and consistently exceeds my expectations… I can’t help but want to direct someone like that.” 

The familiar surge of affection whenever he spoke of Tsukasa rose and it must have shown on his face if the soft smile that appeared on Emu’s was any indication. She stepped closer, eyes sparkling. 

“Why don’t you tell him that?” she asked. 

“Yeah, but don’t lay it on too thick,” Nene retorted. “His ego is already big enough.” 

Despite that, Rui could tell she agreed. He needed to talk to Tsukasa. The last time he’d communicated how much he cherished him was during their school trip so perhaps he needed a reminder. His feelings had only deepened since then after all. It was only right that he reassured Tsukasa that his hesitance had nothing to do with him. 

Those were the words he should’ve conveyed back on the rooftop. The right ones that Rui had neglected to say in favor of keeping his feelings hidden. It’d be overdue but with the proper method, he hoped that it would be enough. 

-

Though they weren’t necessarily avoiding each other, being in the same class in the aftermath of what happened in the SEKAI was awkward at best. For the first time since the beginning of the school year, Tsukasa arrived to class right before their homeroom teacher entered. 

The rest of the day passed similarly with other behaviors out of the ordinary. Tsukasa didn’t enthusiastically participate in class, didn’t volunteer when the teacher stated they needed materials brought to another classroom, didn’t look Rui’s way even once… Therefore, when their lunch break arrived, Rui saved them both the trouble of either attempting to get through an equally as awkward lunch or actively avoiding it altogether by making his way to the flowers on Kamiyama’s campus. 

It was strange, spending lunch without Tsukasa, but Rui supposed the carefully maintained flowers provided well-enough company. He touched the delicate petals of a growing bright yellow iris, thoughts miles away. 

“Kamishiro-senpai?” 

Rui raised his head from the flowerbeds towards the voice, slightly startled. What was meant to be a quick check on his assigned plants had turned into something much longer. Long enough for Toya and Mizuki to catch sight of him and find it abnormal. 

“Rui!” Mizuki exclaimed with a smile. “It’s weird to see you without Tsukasa-senpai. Is he on committee duty?”

Rui shrugged, feigning nonchalance as he smiled easily at both of them. “Good afternoon, Mizuki, Aoyagi-kun. It’s nice to see you both.”

Mizuki stepped a bit closer, clearly catching on to his attempt to avoid the question. She shook her head. “Okay, what’s going on? Did you two fight?”

“I did find it odd that Tsukasa-senpai wasn’t greeting others this morning,” Toya added with a frown. “Usually, I’d hear his voice near the entrance until Kamishiro-senpai arrived.” 

“Is it so strange for Tsukasa-kun and I to spend time apart?” Rui asked. 

Toya and Mizuki exchanged a look before glancing back at him suspiciously. It caused Rui to sigh deeply before caving and explaining further.

“We didn’t fight exactly. It’s a bit more complicated than that,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “Rather, he and the rest of our troupe learned something I’d been keeping to myself. I’m simply…giving him time to think about it.”

“I thought you two trusted each other,” Mizuki commented, eyebrows furrowed. 

“We do,” Rui said automatically. “That’s not why I didn’t speak up about it.”

Out of the many reasons that Rui could come up with, lack of trust was not one of them. It was the very thing that his relationship with Tsukasa was built on and it was quite openly mutual. 

Toya cleared his throat. “Kamishiro-senpai, I apologize if I’m overstepping, but does Tsukasa-senpai know that?”

“Hm?” Rui hummed. “I figure he does, but why do you ask?”

“Since we were children, Tsukasa-senpai has had a tendency to take on more than is necessary,” Toya said. “If we ended up getting scolded, Tsukasa-senpai wouldn’t hesitate to tell both of our parents that it was his fault since he felt responsible for me.” 

Though Rui knew how fondly Toya regarded Tsukasa as an older brother figure, he could tell that the memory of Tsukasa readily taking the blame wasn’t exactly pleasant. Toya hesitated before asking, “Do you think he feels responsible as the leader of your troupe?”

Rui blinked. “I…didn’t consider that.”

It was highly possible, especially when he thought of what Emu had shared of Tsukasa’s feelings during their Halloween show practice. Even more so, he felt he needed to explain himself properly. 

“You should talk to him. Tsukasa-senpai is pretty important to you, right?” Mizuki placed her hands on her hips, undoubtedly asking rhetorically. “Besides, don’t you think we need to do a little chasing too?” She punctuated the question with a wink.

The reference was apparent and it had the desired effect of bringing a smile to Rui’s face. She was right. This time, he needed to be just as straightforward and passionate when it came to Tsukasa as Tsukasa had been with him. Just as Ena had been with Mizuki. 

“Thank you both. I appreciate your help,” he said warmly.

They didn’t linger much longer as Toya mentioned meeting with Akito for the remainder of their break. With a wave and a mischievous smile, Mizuki followed behind him, once again leaving Rui alone with his thoughts. 

The rest of the school day passed uneventfully with Rui spending a majority of it contemplating the best way to approach Tsukasa. When their class was dismissed, he wasn’t surprised to see Tsukasa quickly head to the door enroute to his after school committee meeting. He didn’t attempt to stop him. They could talk later. 

Slowly, he gathered up his own bag and headed out to meet Nene. During their walk back home, Rui shared his intentions to talk to Tsukasa that night. Realistically, a conversation between the four of them was needed, but Rui felt that if he was to properly express how he felt to Tsukasa then it needed to initially be between the two of them.

Worried, Nene agreed after he followed up with a promise to have a wider discussion afterwards. With a squeeze of his hand in encouragement, they parted ways for the night.

Rui was alone in his room for less than a few seconds before a familiar glow emanated from his phone, quickly materializing into Miku. She seemed a bit frantic, though less distressed than the previous day when she’d automatically moved to Tsukasa’s side following their conversation.

“Rui-kun is ready to talk to Tsukasa-kun?!” she exclaimed. 

Rui chuckled, realizing she’d been listening in to him and Nene. “I’m ready to clear things up however that may be,” he answered. “I’m just not sure if Tsukasa-kun wants to talk to me.”

“He does,” Miku said quickly with a nod. “He definitely does!” 

“I appreciate the enthusiasm, but what makes you so sure, Miku-kun?” He raised an eyebrow.

She smiled sadly. “He seemed lonely after you guys left. Miku can tell he’s got a lot on his mind that he wants to get out.”

The guilt that Rui had been experiencing only intensified. His fear had caused solitude, something he was all too familiar with and something he didn’t want anyone close to him to go through.

“I’ll message him,” he said, already considering what to say to convince Tsukasa to meet with him. 

“No need, Rui-kun!” Miku said. “He’s already in the SEKAI.” 

Rui paused in surprise. Though the SEKAI had become a place of comfort for all of them, he would have expected Tsukasa to avoid it for the time being lest they run into each other. After all, he hadn’t exactly restricted access to it despite him having the most control. 

“Tsukasa-kun seemed like he was scared too,” she said. “But he’s still waiting for you regardless.”

Stunned, Rui almost inquired about it. He wondered what he could have possibly done to warrant such care even in the aftermath of his secrecy. He didn’t voice it because he already had an answer. Even in the midst of his own feelings, he still remained concerned about Rui. 

Tsukasa was truly one of a kind.

“Miku-kun, I’ll need your help,” Rui choked out, ignoring his racing heart as he rushed to write down instructions.

For the first time in days, he knew exactly what he needed to do. 

-

Prior to the situation at hand, Rui thought the next time he and Tsukasa stood on stage would be as their respective parts as Silvius and Phoebe. He’d expected to play the role of the lovestruck shepherd as he poured out musings of fondness to the object of his affection over and over. 

However, before he was to take the stage as Silvius, he had to do so as Kamishiro Rui, a role not so different. He, too, had much to express to Tsukasa. So, when he arrived in the SEKAI, he wasted no time in entering the tent.

Tsukasa was exactly where Miku had said he’d be, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the stage with the same crumpled script in his hands. Though his eyes were on it, Rui could tell his focus was elsewhere.

He didn’t pause in his approach, certain that if he did, it’d be difficult to work up the courage once again. Instead, Rui climbed on to the stage and stopped a few steps away from Tsukasa, waiting for his presence to be noticed.

Slowly, Tsukasa looked up, eyes tired. “Miku, I to- Rui…?”

He seemed surprised to see him, dropping the script and moving to rise to his feet before Rui stopped him abruptly, holding out a hand. 

“Tsukasa-kun, would you like to dance?” 

For a moment, he entertained the idea of the aftermath of Tsukasa refusing and how he’d proceed. It lasted for little more than a few seconds, though, as Rui felt the familiar weight of Tsukasa’s hand in his. A clear acceptance of his invitation. Just as readily as he accepted even Rui’s most whimsical ideas. 

He pulled them both into position, placing one hand on the small of Tsukasa’s back while the other gripped his tighter. In turn, Tsukasa placed the hand not wrapped in Rui’s on his shoulder. Soon after, the stage’s main spotlight shone on them as the rest of the auditorium was bathed in a gentle light. A soft accompaniment, one that they’d planned to have supplement part of their most recent endeavor, played over the speakers. 

It was a nice touch, likely courtesy of Miku who had mysteriously disappeared from the tent as soon as Rui approached Tsukasa lingering on the stage. Together, they swayed for a bit in silence. 

“I don’t know how to have this conversation,” Tsukasa admitted eventually, actively avoiding Rui’s gaze.

Truthfully, Rui found that he didn’t either, but he masked his uncertainty with a jest. “You? At a loss for words?”

“Unbecoming for a star and even more so for a troupe leader,” Tsukasa commented with a grimace. Rui resisted the urge to disagree, opting to hear all he had to say. “But, I always find it…difficult to know what to say when it comes to things like this.”

Rui nodded in understanding. They all happened to have trouble with discussing anything that could lead to separation. Perhaps that was testament to how important it was to remain together for the time being. 

“I’m sorry,” Tsukasa said, pained. “For sending you all out.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Tsukasa-kun,” Rui reassured as he squeezed his hand once. “It’s my fault this happened in the first place.”

Tsukasa shook his head. “You shouldn’t be sorry for considering your future. No matter how I… we feel about it.” He finally looked back at Rui, agitated. “Didn’t I tell you to be proud?”

“I am proud, but I’m also proud to be here.” It was easier to be truthful when there was nothing else left to keep hidden. It made breathing, feeling and existing less challenging when he could be straightforward.  “Logically, it was the opportunity of a lifetime, but interestingly enough, I have strayed further and further from ‘logic’ when it comes to my future.”

“What do you mean?” 

“An outsider may find the concept of even being conflicted nonsensical. But, as much as Arcland could propel me forward, there’s one thing they could never replicate.” 

He smiled fondly at Tsukasa as he moved them from one part of the stage to another. What he meant went unspoken, but the implication was still clear to Tsukasa if the flush that dusted his cheeks was any indication. Tentatively, his smile matched Rui’s, just as affectionate. 

“You weren’t angry,” Rui commented. “Why is that?”

“Because I want you to be happy,” Tsukasa answered easily. “Even if that means losing you to Arcland. My own selfishness and inadequacy can’t get in the way of your dream.”

There it was, a brief confirmation of what they’d considered he was feeling. Just as Emu and Toya had said. Rui couldn’t allow him to think that. 

“Is that how you see this?” he asked.

“Isn’t that how it is?” Tsukasa countered.

Rui only took a moment to contemplate before he pulled Tsukasa closer, wrapping both arms around him. The only way for Rui to show him how truly precious he was to him was to hold him as such. Their new position pushed Tsukasa to wrap his arms around Rui as well. Hesitantly, he rested his head on Rui's chest. 

“Let me tell you what makes me happy,” Rui said softly. “Creating shows as a troupe makes me happy, learning and growing together makes me happy, collaborating with other directors makes me happy…”

“I know…” Tsukasa responded, undeniably not yet seeing what direction he was headed in.

“But, that’s not all.” Shortly, Rui thought back to the sight of Tsukasa alone on the stage the previous day. He needed to tell him, if only to keep that from happening again. “I’m also quite happy when the two of us eat lunch together, when we brainstorm scenes together, when I watch you perform a role, when you call out a greeting to me across the courtyard in the mornings, when you laugh, when you smile…”

Belatedly, Rui realized that Tsukasa would undoubtedly be able to hear the rapid beating of his heart as it became quicker and quicker at his own admission. Though, he supposed the reasoning behind it would be apparent to Tsukasa soon enough if it wasn’t already.

“Rui, what are you saying…?” His voice shook slightly. 

He presumed it was technically enough. Rui had shared with Tsukasa simultaneously what made their troupe and what made him in general so special to him. He could very well end the conversation there. However, they were nothing if not performers, enjoying every moment that made way for theatrics.

“Wherever sorrow, relief would be,” Rui recited, though none of the anguished desire that was typical of the lines bled through. “If you do sorrow at my grief in love, by giving love your sorrow and my grief were both extermined.”

Curious, Tsukasa replied with his own lines, “Thou hast my love. Is not that neighborly?”

Previously, Rui had trailed off from the following line. Now, with his heart pounding, he delivered it, “I would have you.”

For a few seconds, Tsukasa stilled before raising his head to meet Rui’s gaze directly. He knew it wasn’t the line itself but rather the way he said it, full of devotion laced with nothing but joy, that finally communicated everything. Tsukasa’s eyes seemed to swim with similar emotion combined with the pink that beautifully decorated his face.

“And if you do have me already?” Tsukasa asked.

It wasn’t Phoebe’s next line. Far from it even. But, it was Tsukasa’s. As usual, their most important roles complemented each other well and once again, Rui received the acceptance that Tsukasa seemed to have an abundance of. 

He didn’t waste time with a verbal reply, choosing instead to lean down, closing the distance between them slightly. Rui tightened his hold around Tsukasa’s waist as he waited for his reaction. Tsukasa, in turn, raised one hand to ghost Rui’s cheek while he rested the other on his shoulder. He used it to push up to his toes, bridging the gap between them and…

It was quick, only a gentle press of Tsukasa’s lips against his but it was enough for Rui to realize that it felt right. It took him only seconds afterwards to also come to the conclusion that he wanted more. 

It was obvious that they were both nervous, still reeling from the situation that brought them there but it didn’t stop Rui from kissing him again, just as soft as their first. He felt like he was on fire, slowly burning as every beat of his heart and breath in his lungs mingled with Tsukasa’s. They pulled away a moment later, sharing a smile as their foreheads rested against each other.

The expression on Tsukasa’s face was new, one that Rui was sure now was reserved for him. Warm, tender and open. Rui watched as his eyes lit up, pleased that he could now see what Rui so strongly felt reflected on his face. No more mystery.

-

PHOEBE

I will not eat my word. Now thou art mine,

Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine.

-

Tsukasa - 1:12 AM

WAIT!!! 

THIS MEANS THAT ASAHI-SAN WAS SERIOUS WHEN HE “JOKED” ABOUT RECRUITING RUI IN THE DINER!!

Nene - 1:12 AM

go to sleep