Chapter two: Lightning Strikes, Maybe Once, Maybe Twice
Pairing: LeadSinger!Gojo x Guitarist!Geto
Summary: Their last show was decades ago. Now, the band is back with their final interviews, ready to share what they never have before.
Warnings: past child abuse, eventual smut, this shit is going to be toxic, pls read tags before reading, unreliable narrators, minors DNI, eventual past alcohol abuse, making out, smoking
A/N: Yay! New chapter. The glittering chimes Satoru hears is a reference to the start of Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac. <3 Follow me on twitter: @solitablvd I'm hoping to keep this Sunday schedule I've been having, but I am traveling to the motherland this week (Mexico) so preemptive apologies just in case lol. Thank you all for reading.
Chapter two: Lightning Strikes, Maybe Once, Maybe Twice
Interviewer: If that first kiss didn’t lead to you two dating— at least, not right away— [chuckles awkwardly, clears throat] then what did it lead to?
Geto: Nothing. [exhales] Well— okay, not nothing. I mean, [shifts in seat] we had other things to focus on. The music, mostly. School. Graduation was coming up eventually. [pauses] It was easier to ignore it, to keep things the way they had been.
Gojo: It led to— [breathes in, purses lips] to… really great fucking music. [half-smiles]
Interviewer: At the time, did you know they shared that kiss? Did band dynamics change at all?
Nanami: Not a clue. [shakes head] And dynamics didn’t change, as far as I could tell at least. Geto was still going over there pretty often. We’d go to school. We’d drive to my garage. He’d teach us the songs, maybe we workshop them together, he’d write down any changes we made to show Gojo. Then we’d do it all over again. [shrugs] It worked. We wrote a song or two over just that month and a half.
Haibara: No. [shakes head] None of us knew.
Shoko: I knew. Geto told me the next day in math, so I told him—
Geto: [finger airquotes] “Dating in the band is bad news.” That’s what she said… I should’ve listened. I told her to swear on her life she wouldn’t tell anyone. She told me to swear on mine that it wouldn’t lead to any bullshit… Guess I didn’t hold up my part, huh?
Gojo: At that point it felt like [looks off to the side] a one off thing. Like something we just had to move past. I mean— it’s not like we could’ve just started dating. [leans back, arms crossed] There were still other factors. For one, my parents. And more importantly, the music. That was what we really needed to focus on.
A golden glow enveloped the room. It came from the light of the candle on Satoru’s desk, but to them it felt like it must have radiated from their colliding chests.
Suguru’s knee was placed comfortably in between Satoru’s legs, holding his weight above him with his elbows placed on either side of his head, his hands unsure of where to grip, hold, or touch. Their shirts were pressed together, heaving up and down with their breathing chests. Satoru lay beneath him, his shorter hair fanned out against the mattress, hand cupping Suguru’s cheeks delicately. They nibbled carefully at each other’s lips. Outside, someone’s radio was playing from a few houses down, the noise muffled by the closed window. Their quiet breathing consumed the room, the soft creaking of the bed frame occasionally chiming in.
This had become their routine. Their secret. Their not-so-one-off thing. Suguru told himself he wasn’t lying to the other band members— his friends— he had just been keeping it from them, and there was a difference to him… somehow.
When they asked how the songwriting process was going he’d reply: “Good.” And that wasn’t a total lie. Based on what they were doing now, he would say it was going beyond well actually.
And Satoru would agree. Because every time they kissed, he heard something new. This time it was light and airy. Glittering chimes that sounded like the goosebumps he could feel all over him every time Suguru kissed him like this, with a deep thumping of a drum hidden in the background. He couldn’t get enough.
It wasn’t immediate. After that first shared kiss, Satoru apologized and Suguru told him he didn’t need to. They didn’t talk about it again. Not the next day. Not even the next week. Their songwriting sessions continued. They passed notebooks back and forth like nothing had happened, hummed quiet melodies together like an invisible line was never crossed.
It wasn’t until early-December that Suguru decided he couldn’t pretend anymore. He could hear Shoko in the back of his head. Dating in the band is bad news. But he didn’t care.
Seeing Satoru with his eyes tired, hair slightly damp from his shower, back against the side of his bed was enough for him to want to quit pretending. The pen in between Satoru’s lips and his brows furrowed with focus as he repeated a chorus over and over quietly, swearing it could be better.
Suguru watched the pen move. Watched Satoru’s lips around it. And thought about the taste of butterscotch.
“Satoru.” He purred in an airy whisper.
Satoru looked up in between the strands of hair falling over his face, pen still dangling from his lips, “What’s up?”
Suguru didn’t answer. Instead, he moved forward, placing his hands on the wooden floor beneath them. He leaned in slow enough for Satoru to move, but he didn’t. The pen dropped to the floor with a tiny thud. They kissed, this time with no apology to follow. That was how their secret routine began.
That was how they ended up in Satoru’s bedroom now, the candle burning quietly, the door locked, half finished lyrics tossed to the side, and their chests pressed against one another.
It hadn’t gone beyond kissing, eventually Suguru would find it in himself to pull back and he’d mutter praises into Satoru’s ear, telling him how perfect he was, then he would tell him he should leave. Then he’d climb down the lattice panel and walk the few blocks to the old van.
This night, Suguru had arrived early, tossing a pebble at the window as soon as the sun crossed the horizon. He hadn’t even bothered to pretend to write. The moment he arrived his lips were pressed to Satoru’s.
Now, breathless, they lay tangled in the golden light. They pulled back to catch their breaths and allowed their foreheads to rest together, giving small, quick whispered breaths against one another.
Suguru’s lips parted to speak, but was interrupted by the three sharp taps on Satoru’s door.
He jerked back instinctively, putting space in between them as he quickly scrambled up from the bed.
Satoru’s eyes widened as he felt his stomach drop. He gave Suguru a worried look. Hide, he mouthed to him. Suguru nodded. He moved quickly towards the closet while Satoru kicked their notebooks under his bed and straightened his shirt.
“Coming.” He called out, watching as Suguru closed the closet door behind him.
He cleared his throat once and opened the door, his mom standing on the other side.
“Satoru,” She spoke calmly, he could see her eyes darting past him and looking into his room, “You’ve been in your room all day since you got home from school. I’m worried about you, you should come and eat something before bed.”
Suguru could hear Satoru’s response as he held his breath, seeing the light from the hallway enter the room as he looked through the closet shutters.
“You need to come down and eat something.” She replied, sterner now, “You cannot be locked up in your room all evening— and what is that on your lip?”
“Nothing. It’s just— a stupid paper cut. I got it at school. I’ll be down in a second.” Satoru replied quickly.
Suguru could almost hear the suspicion dripping from his mother’s hum before she continued, “Well, if you think skipping meals and sulking in the dark is a good way to get what you want, you’re wrong. You are going on that trip with us next week, and we expect you to be present and presentable. Do you understand?”
There was a beat of silence.
“Good. Now come downstairs to eat.”
“I will, just give me a second.”
Another beat passed before the closet doors opened and Suguru stepped out, exhaling like he was coming up for air.
“I’m sorry.” Satoru whispered almost silently.
“It’s okay. That was my fault. I’ll go.” Suguru replied, moving to grab his belongings from beneath the bed. Satoru only nodded, looking in the small mirror on his desk to see his lip. There was a small mark where Suguru had just bitten it just minutes ago. It was barely noticeable. He was surprised his mother noticed, but that was in her nature.
“Family trip?” Suguru inquired, tilting his head slightly as he tossed his schoolbag over his shoulder.
Satoru nodded, looking back to him, “Yeah, to visit some family in Kyoto for New Years.”
Shoko: Gojo’s family had some trip planned over New Years. Some college guy Haibara knew was throwing a major New Years Eve party and needed another band to play.
Nanami: Everything just… aligned again. I wouldn’t say I believe in fate, but what else would you call it?
Haibara: It was fate. Meant to be. I mean, how could it have been more perfect?
Interviewer: But by that point how long had it been since you’d all truly practiced with Gojo?
Shoko: Since October. [nods] It was ambitious, but so are we. [laughs]
Gojo: I waved goodbye to my parents from the driveway. Holding my side like I was still sick. I’d spent that whole week making vomiting noises in the bathroom. As soon as the cab turned the corner, I ran. [smiles fondly] I ran like hell.
Geto: We had 4 days until our first gig… and we spent every one of those 96 hours together.
Nanami: We turned my garage into a makeshift living space. My parents didn’t mind, and when they asked Gojo if he had permission to be there, he said—
Gojo: Of course I do, Mr. and Mrs. Nanami. [grins]
Haibara: Blankets, pillows, amps— everything. We spent every waking— and sleeping— moment together.
Shoko: It was like preparation for life on the road. Just earlier than expected.
Interviewer: Can you tell us about what happened in those 96 hours?
Nanami: We felt like a real band. We were a little sloppy at first, but we got tight on the covers, cleaned up our originals, and got as prepared as we could for that Saturday.
Geto: We were finally in sync. All of us. And not just musically. For those couple of days, everything… felt right.
Haibara: We didn’t sleep much. We had to workshop a lot of songs. Gojo, Shoko, and Geto worked on our original songs, while Nanami and I worked on getting the covers to fit our style. We’d rotate. Everything flowed. Then at night we’d all sit around, smoke and just be together, talking about dumb stuff: dreams, music, life. It was awesome.
Gojo: It felt like for the first time I was really, truly a part of something. [looks down, nods] They were like a family to me.
Shoko: When I worked on the original songs with Gojo and Geto it was like watching them speak their own language. [smiles fondly] I had never seen two people so in tune with each other. That’s how I knew. They’d steal glances. Smile at each other, in a way that really meant something. I think they thought I wouldn’t notice, but I did.
Interviewer: So… still nothing then?
Geto: [long pause] Well, [exhales softly, glances off camera] it was just tough. [runs hands through hair] Look, I knew what I felt for him at that point, but there was just no way. I had been telling myself to stop— [pauses, lets out a breathy laugh] to shut it down before it got worse. But then, [pauses, voice quieter] he’d look at me, and I’d forget how to stop myself.
Gojo: I don’t know what to say. [shrugs] We know how it ends, so… no need to rehash it now.
Interviewer: [nods carefully] I apologize. Um— how did that first gig end up going?
Haibara: We killed it. Every single one of us felt in sync, like we were all working towards something bigger than we could ever imagine.
Nanami: Better than I expected. It wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t matter. We knew we had something. It all just felt natural.
Shoko: Gojo really came into his own that night, I mean, we all did. But he just became someone else on that small lifted deck.
Geto: Over the course of those four days we all worked on our craft. We had all been playing our instruments for a while by then, so it was easier for us to just clean up around the edges. But for Satoru, it was different. Sure, he had been singing for years, but his voice wasn’t exactly what rock artists sounded like then. Most singers at the time sounded like gravel and smoke, but he sounded magnetic and smooth like… like when butterscotch melts on your tongue…
Geto: [clears throat] We spent the first two nights trying to get him to rough it up, sing more from the throat, but in the end, that wasn’t him. When we finally leaned into it we realized that it didn’t sound like anyone else… and that’s why it worked.
Gojo: I think that was the first time I really leaned into the whole thing. Before that I was kinda just standing around, singing while everyone played. When we were in that backyard— I don’t know… I guess I just let everything happen. It’s a blur now.
Shoko: That little backyard gig changed everything. We weren’t just kids in a band. I think we all realized that we could actually be something, take this somewhere.
Nanami: The very next day we were making phone calls and trying to see if we could get another gig as soon as possible. We didn’t even think about how we’d get Gojo there, we just knew we wanted to keep it going.
Haibara: Guess I want to change my answer from earlier, that was when the band really started.
2 days before the band’s first gig
“What about you, Geto?” Haibara asked, his voice low and lazy while his eyes were half open as he stared at the ceiling of the garage.
They were all scattered in different parts of the garage. Haibara was on his back, a pillow propped up against the bass drum in the back center of the garage and the end of the cigarette they’d been sharing in his hand lazily.
Nanami had moved his mattress down to the garage, covers and all. He placed it in a corner near a few amps. Shoko had claimed the couch placed off to the opposite side of the equipment, her small frame fitting perfectly along the cushions. Satoru was on the floor beside her, his head propped on two pillows and his feet sticking out of the too short blanket. And Suguru laid near the middle of the garage, on the carpet. He used his arm as a pillow and was laying on his side, his back to the large garage door.
He snapped out of his thoughts, “I don’t know.” He answered honestly to Haibara’s what would your dream life look like question. He could hear Nanami’s quiet snoring in the corner of the room and Shoko and Satoru’s quiet whispers that he couldn’t quite make out.
“C’mon, that’s not fair. I told you mine.” Haibara complained in a hushed voice, the smoke continuing to leave his mouth. He had just finished telling Geto about how in his dream life he’d either be a traveling bartender or maybe a drum teacher.
“I don’t know.” Suguru repeated, shifting himself with a small sigh to stare at the ceiling. “I don’t have any plans for after graduation.” His mouth was beginning to feel dry at the thought.
“Hmm.” He heard Haibara shifting, “Well then I guess you can just tag along on whatever I end up doing.” Haibara spoke half jokingly, putting out the end of the cigarette and leaving it on the floor beside him as he settled to sleep.
It wasn’t long before he heard his breathing even out just like Nanami’s had about twenty minutes ago. Suguru got lost in his own thoughts, his hands behind his head as he traced the cracks in the ceiling. He thought about what his dream life would look like, but he came up short every time. He hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. With graduation around the corner in March it was all starting to feel more real. He wouldn’t be able to see his friends every day. His parents would want him to move out. He needed to focus on his future, but he hadn’t realized how close that was. Maybe he really could just tag along on whatever Haibara chooses to do, or Nanami, he’s sure to have his life figured out.
His thoughts were interrupted as he heard the sounds of the couch squeaking. He looked over to see the silhouettes of both Shoko and Satoru standing up in the dark garage, each wrapping a blanket around their shoulders.
“What are you doing?” He asked in a whisper, his eyelids now feeling heavier.
Shoko replied, “Going outside to smoke and look at the stars, want to come?”
Suguru thought about it for a moment as the other two headed towards the exit, Satoru almost tripping over one of the guitar pedals that had been left on the ground. Without answering, he got up, taking his blanket around his shoulders, slipping on shoes, and following the two out the door out onto the driveway.
He felt the cold air hit him, and the yellow glow from the porch light hurt his tired eyes a little. He winced at both, leaning against the hood of Haibara’s parked car while Shoko and Satoru stood in front of him, the former handing him a cigarette from her pack. He waited patiently with the cigarette between his fingers as she lit hers, then his.
Suguru’s eyes found Satoru, for about the millionth time the past couple days. He couldn’t help himself. Every time he saw him it was like he couldn’t help but want to be close to him. To caress his skin, to press his lips against his. But he knew he couldn’t, especially not in front of the others.
He could still hear Shoko’s words. He was starting to hear them more often now, he felt.
Satoru sighed dramatically, his arms wrapped around himself beneath the blanket, “You know, this whole don’t smoke to preserve your voice shit is kinda unfair, Suguru helps with vocals and he’s smoking.”
My voice isn’t as angelic as yours he wanted to tell him, or maybe even your voice is worth preserving.
But instead he settled on, “Yeah, but you’re the lead singer.”
“Yeah,” Shoko agreed, then pondered for a moment before continuing, “But maybe smoking would give you that gritty edge we’ve been trying to get out of you.” She spoke teasingly, letting the smoke leave the side of her smile.
“I mean,” Satoru replied with a smile, his eyes clearly tired, “If you say so.” He reached out for Shoko’s cigarette, and she happily handed it to him, letting him take a slow drag.
As he watched the smoke leave Satoru’s mouth Suguru spoke again.
“I think your voice suits the band. I’ve been writing to fit your voice.” He admitted with another exhale.
The other two glanced at him, Satoru giving him a small smile before handing Shoko back her cigarette.
She placed it back in between her lips, muttering, “Uh huh.”
Silence fell over them again, their small exhales of smoke filling the space, while Satoru sniffled at the cold air and looked up at the stars. Suguru thought about his words. He meant them. Ever since he’d first heard Satoru sing, he felt like he was writing lyrics with that voice and range in mind. He felt that was only natural. They had been trying to get Satoru to sound like the bands they heard over the radio, but now he was starting to feel that Satoru’s voice was exactly what they needed to stand apart.
Shoko broke the silence, “Well, I’m not gonna freeze my toes off. Catch you guys tomorrow.” She handed the rest of her cigarette to Satoru as they both bid her a goodnight. She turned to head back inside, closing the garage door behind her.
Suguru felt himself exhale with relief. He hadn’t spent any time with Satoru alone just yet the past couple of days, and now with Shoko gone he suddenly felt the night turn warmer.
“Thanks for what you said.” Satoru spoke, tossing the half-smoked cigarette to the ground and stepping it out softly.
Suguru shrugged, his mind flashing with what would happen if he were to pull Satoru in by the waist and kiss him, “I meant it.”
“Shoko told me you told her.” Satoru confessed, moving to lean against the car hood beside Suguru.
“What did I tell her?” Suguru asked, scooting himself to let their blanket-covered shoulders touch.
Suguru stilled. His instincts told him to lie or deflect, but he knew he couldn’t, “Yeah… I told her. But I don’t think she told anyone else.”
“She didn’t.” Satoru confirmed, watching as Suguru let out another puff of smoke. “She told me dating in the band could be messy, I told her we weren’t dating.”
Suguru gave a small hum. He hadn’t thought of that loophole yet. Satoru was right, they weren’t dating, so it couldn’t be bad news like she said it would be. “Right… It’d only be messy if we were… dating.”
Satoru’s eyes fell low in front of him as he kicked a small pebble with the tip of his shoe, “I mean, we don’t have to decide anything right now, right?”
“Right.” Suguru replied quietly, tossing the end of his cigarette to the floor and watching as it crumbled under his foot.
A comfortable silence fell over them, and Suguru found himself thinking about his dream life again. He still couldn’t see far into it. He still couldn’t see what job he had or where he was living, but he could see Satoru there. Sitting in golden lighting and scribbling words into his notebook like he always does when they’re together. Smiling at him before humming a new melody he thought of, how the sound tolls in Suguru’s mind for hours even after he’s done.
He felt Satoru place a small kiss to his cheek, getting Suguru to look at him for the millionth-and-one-time the couple of days before letting their lips meet each other. Suguru instinctively cupped Satoru’s cheek, holding him in place as their lips moved naturally against one another, falling into place with practiced ease.
Satoru could feel music tugging at his chest as they kissed. He wanted to tell Suguru that his writing was done with him in mind. That every time he thought of him, he swore he could hear little strums. Imaginary notes that whispered in his ear and grazed his mind, begging to be written.
Suguru pulled away, letting his hand remain against Satoru’s cool cheek. The pair were facing each other now, letting their tired eyes pour into one another.
Suguru whispered, “Can we stay out here a while?”
Satoru nodded, letting himself be engulfed into Suguru’s arms. He rested his chin on Suguru’s warm shoulder. Suguru wrapped the blanket around them both, relaxing against the cozy touch and letting his mind wander about the future.
The day of the band’s first gig
“You nervous?” Shoko asked Satoru quietly, not looking up from her bass.
“No.” Satoru half-lied, he hadn’t felt nervous until she said the word out loud. Strangely enough, he felt ready all day. But now, as he looked out into the backyard full of party goers, drinking and having their own conversations, he felt his stomach turn, “I’m gonna use the restroom, I’ll be right back.”
He didn’t wait for a reply from anyone, the rest were still busy tuning their instruments and setting up. He quickly hurried inside, pushing past the random college-aged strangers and finding the closest bathroom. He shut the door behind him and placed his hands against the cold enamel sink. He looked himself in the mirror, feeling somehow distant from the him he saw. He felt different. He was wearing a dark blue button up he’d borrowed from Suguru, after the band voted that maybe his uniform and turtle necks wouldn’t fit their style. He quickly undid the top three buttons in an attempt to get more air. His breath grew shaky and everything felt louder than it was supposed to be.
He turned on the cool water and let it fill his hands, splashing his face gently with water in an attempt to wash the nerves away. He shouldn’t be nervous. He’d spent the last 96 hours practicing the songs over and over again. He should feel okay. Still his mind raced at a pace he couldn’t keep up with. Sure, if Haibara messed up maybe people would think it was an interesting music choice, but if Satoru messed up or worse— froze, then everyone would know.
He splashed his face again, rubbing the cool water against his skin for good measure. The conversations outside the door seemed to buzz even louder, and his heart only raced faster at the thought.
There was a soft knock at the door, just one.
“Satoru?” Came Suguru’s voice from the other side, low and calm.
“Yeah.” He called back out, letting his head hang as he gripped the sink tighter, “Just a second.”
The doorknob turned and Suguru entered anyway, giving Satoru a concerned look as he closed the door behind him, “Hey, what’s wrong?”
Satoru looked up, making eye contact with Suguru behind him through the mirror, “Nothing, I’m fine.”
Suguru came up beside him quietly, rubbing a small, comforting circle against his back, “It’s okay, I’m nervous too.”
“... You are?” Satoru asked him, quietly letting go of the sink and turning to look at Suguru.
“Yeah. I mean— yeah. The most we’ve done is play for Nanami’s parents.” Suguru gave a low chuckle, letting his hand trail down Satoru’s side and land at his fingertips. He held them tenderly, hoping it would be as comforting for Satoru as he felt it to be.
Satoru exhaled deeply, looking down at the way their hands looked together, feeling the way Suguru’s thumb brushed over his fingers gently, murmuring, “I just… didn’t realize how real it’d feel.”
“Don’t worry about the crowd.” Suguru shook his head softly, “Just focus on the music.”
“I can’t if they’re all looking at me,” Satoru muttered honestly, feeling stupid for even saying it out loud. He’d sung in front of people a million times and he was never nervous doing it. This time, it felt like there was more riding on his performance.
“Here,” Suguru replied, letting go of Satoru’s hand and reaching into the collar of his own shirt, unhooking the sunglasses that were hanging there. “Wear these. Then, whenever you want, you can just close your eyes and pretend you’re back in the garage.“
Satoru took them, looking at the dark rounded lenses carefully, letting out another exhale, “Thanks.” His heart strings played a simple melody in his head, something easy to remember and calming.
Suguru stood for a moment, reaching his hand out to caress Satoru’s cheek delicately, “Come on, let’s go.” He nodded towards the door.
Satoru nodded silently, slipping on the sunglasses and glancing at himself in the mirror, quickly running his hand through his hair before following Suguru out the door and to the backyard.
“He’s ready.” Suguru spoke to the rest of the band, Haibara was already sitting behind his kit with a smile on his face, while Nanami and Shoko both had their guitars in hand. Suguru took his black fender and tossed it on, giving Satoru a small nod as he approached the mic.
For the next hour Satoru felt like he was floating above the world, as if he had grown wings in that bathroom and was now learning to fly. He moved across the stage with his eyes closed and it was clear his voice had caught the attention of the crowd as party-goers had stopped their conversations just to watch him sing. He didn’t think; he just let the lyrics slip out of his grinning lips. Everything felt natural. His nerves washed away. He could feel the eyes around him: Haibara, Shoko, Nanami, and Suguru all watched him intently, exchanging small incredulous glances when they could. They were met with some cheers, headbanging, and impressed looks by the end of their short set.
“That’s the last of it.” Suguru spoke, closing the back doors of his van with a thud as Nanami put in the last amp.
After they finished on stage, Satoru and Haibara took it upon themselves to join the party. Haibara insisted he do a celebratory beer chug, then tried to get Nanami to do the same— it didn’t work. The five of them were practically buzzing as they wandered the party, happily accepting drinks from strangers along with their intoxicated compliments, aside from Suguru who knew he’d be driving the rest home. Still, he felt a quiet pride burning within him as he spoke with strangers.
When the party counted down to midnight, they came together to share their cheers, happily welcoming the New Year. Suguru could feel himself thinking of the future and of everything to come, silent wishes filling his head as everyone returned to the party.
When he decided they’d had their fun, he managed to find them all and got them to start loading up the van, which proved to be difficult with the sheer amount of distractions around them. Haibara’s shirt was still soaking wet when he hopped in the back of the van, getting shoved in by Nanami who was smiling and stumbling behind him. Shoko flopped into the front bench, mumbling about how cold it had gotten. Satoru scooted in beside her, his sunglasses sitting on the top of his head and his grin plastered on his face that had been there since their set ended. Suguru closed the door behind him, pushing his legs in and being careful not to slam the door on any of his lingering limbs.
He started the car up, the engine giving a low roar as he began to drive towards Haibara’s home first.
“Guys,” Haibara spoke, unaware of how loud he was and shoving his head into the front seat, “We fucking killed it! I mean, Gojo, you really wailed, man.”
Shoko jumped in before Satoru could respond, “Who knew you had that in you. So much for a choir boy.” She spoke teasingly, taking the sunglasses off his head and putting them on before giving him a teasing elbow nudge. Satoru took back the sunglasses with a smack of his lips, faking annoyance with a small smile creeping onto his lips.
Nanami interrupted with a mutter from the backseat, his head against the window as he spoke with his eyes half closed, “One of the guys at the party told me his older brother works at a bar in Aoba, says we should play there.”
Suguru all but slammed on the brakes, making all five of them jerk forward with a chorus of groans, “What? Really? Who?”
Nanami smacked his lips in annoyance as he leaned back in his seat, “I don’t know. He gave me his number, it’s somewhere around here.” His words were slurred as he patted around his pockets lazily before passing up a small scrap of paper with a phone number scribbled on it.
Suguru looked down at it, the red glow from the stoplight reflecting onto the small paper. The ink was smeared, but legible.
“Woah,” Haibara let out, leaning over Suguru’s shoulder to see the number, while Shoko and Gojo scooted in to do the same.
The glow turned green and Suguru turned his attention back to driving, shoving the number into his jean pocket, “I’ll call tomorrow and see what they say.”
The car ride grew quiet. Either they were all thinking about the possibility of their next show, or they were falling asleep.
When he finally arrived at Haibara’s house he pulled into the clean driveway, feeling Shoko’s tired body stir beside him as he turned to whisper, “Haibara. This is you.”
Haibara’s eyes groggily opened, bloodshot as he rubbed them open, the ten minute drive was enough for the alcohol to settle and make him beyond drowsy, “Already?” He groaned softly, throwing his hand against the door and opening it with a lazy fling.
Suguru watched as Haibara swung his legs out, then staggered to his feet, “Thanks for the ride.” He rubbed his eyes again, grabbing his duffel bag of clothes before closing the car door.
“Get inside,” was all Suguru said through Satoru’s half open window. He stayed there as Haibara trudged up the steps, digging for his keys.
“He gonna make it inside?” Satoru mumbled, his head against the window as his eyes followed Haibara’s drunken movements.
“Yeah, he always does.” Suguru replied, putting the car into reverse as Haibara stepped into his parent’s house. Next up was Shoko.
The streets were empty at this late hour, and Suguru would’ve normally hated the silence, but for some reason it was comforting that night. The air was filled with quiet breathing and the cool air coming in from Satoru’s lowered window. The drive to Shoko’s house wasn’t far, but he could feel himself growing tired. When they arrived Shoko climbed over Satoru, but only because he couldn’t be bothered to move out of the way. She grabbed her bags wordlessly and yawned as she waved a small goodbye, her eyelids half-closed. Suguru waited for her to enter her home before driving off again.
With Shoko out of the spot between them, Satoru scooted closer to Suguru, laying his head on his shoulder without a word. Suguru tensed at first, his breathing hitched involuntarily and his hands gripped the wheel tighter, then he relaxed into the feeling, enjoying how Satoru’s hair brushed against his. Despite how tired he was, Suguru made the conscious effort to take the long way to the suburbs in order to have an excuse to drop Satoru off last. He drove in silence until he was outside of Nanami’s familiar house.
Nanami stretched in the backseat, letting out a small cough as he moved towards the door without having to be asked or woken up like the others.
“I’ll drop off the stuff tomorrow,” Suguru said quietly, giving a tired sniffle.
Nanami nodded, stepping out of the car and standing at the passenger window. His eyes flicked down to where Satoru was, his head still against Suguru’s shoulder. It was only for a brief moment, but they both knew each other had seen the glance, “Yeah. We can call that guy too— see if he was being serious.”
Suguru agreed, shifting the car back into gear to head to the last house once Nanami was up the driveway. He drove slowly through the residential streets, knowing Satoru’s house wasn’t far, but selfishly not wanting him to leave quite yet.
When they were alone, Satoru finally spoke. He didn’t move from his spot as his words came out slightly slurred and low against the quiet rumbling of the car, “My parents get home at noon. I won’t be able to play with you guys anymore.”
“We’ll figure it out.” Suguru reassured him, taking another turn onto Satoru’s street, “Don’t worry about it.” Truth was, he hated thinking about Satoru’s parents returning from their trip. He wished their train would get delayed, then delayed again, and again for good measure. The last 96 hours had felt so real, like everything was figuring itself out, but that would all be gone again soon.
He slowed the car down and shifted into park on the curb of Satoru’s too familiar house. He let out a small exhale and gave Satoru a small nudge, “This is you. Go get some sleep on a real bed.”
Satoru sat up slowly, placing a tiny and warm peck on Suguru’s cheek, “Thank you again,” he murmured, “for earlier. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Suguru nodded, the corners of his lips turning up in a smile, “Of course.” Without thinking any further, he pressed his lips tenderly to Satoru’s, sighing into him like he’d been waiting for a moment alone all day, “Anything for you.” He spoke in between kisses; the words leaving a fluttering feeling in Satoru’s chest.
Suguru hadn’t been able to take his eyes off Satoru all night, but what else was new.
He liked the way his shirt fit on Satoru and how he’d smile in between lyrics. That backyard performance had only solidified his need for more of this. Of him. Onstage and offstage. In the garage and in the front seat of the van. After midnight or in the early morning sun. His dream life was starting to feel clearer, and he wondered if Satoru felt the same as their lips moved in effortless sync.
They remained that way, falling into the usual routine before Satoru eventually pulled away, muttering a quiet goodnight against Suguru’s lips before reaching into the backseat for his duffel bag.
“Goodnight. Call my house if you need anything. Can I come over this week?” Suguru asked, watching the way Satoru hopped out of the van and stumbled to his feet.
Satoru closed the door and leaned against the frame; he didn’t answer immediately. In all honesty he wasn’t sure which direction to go. He enjoyed whatever it was he and Suguru had, but he was always taught not to play with fire. Still, he hummed an affirmative with a nod before turning to head up his driveway.
Interviewer: Getting a bar gig— though small— is no easy feat. How was that experience? You were all still in your final months of high school, correct?
Nanami: We were. After making that call our first show at the bar was supposed to be in early January right after we made that call, but… we had to postpone it because of— [looks away briefly] well I’m sure Gojo can explain it better than I can. [smiles tightlipped]
Haibara: I thought it was great. Free drinks all the time. Girls. They even gave us a green room to get ready in.
Shoko: There was no green room. [rolls eyes] We got ready in the van in the back alley. After our first show they asked us to play there weekly, that’s when things got… complicated… but I’m sure Gojo will explain that part better than I can.
Geto: We took what we could get. Who cares if it was a small bar? A stage is a stage and it— eventually— gave us a bit of consistency… and a crowd to play to. That’s what mattered. Finally our music was going to be heard.
Interviewer: And the situation with your parents? What exactly happened that made you postpone the first show?
Gojo: Right. Well. [exhales] I tried to sneak out. Apparently, getting in and out that window is harder than it looks because my foot slipped on the lattice panel. It was so embarrassing.
Geto: I had picked everyone else up first and Satoru was our last stop before the show. We slowed down in front of his house, all he had to do was run down the driveway and jump in. Haibara already had the door open.
Shoko: [stifles a laugh] He fell like a cartoon character. We all saw it from far away. Honestly, it looked pretty bad.
Haibara: My door was already open, so I jumped out to go help him. He had let out a pretty bad shout.
Nanami: Geto put the car in park right there on the street and we all ran out, too. Which would’ve been a good idea if—
Geto: The lights in the house started turning on. Then the front porch light. When we got to him, his wrist was just—
Gojo: I broke my wrist when I landed. It hurt like hell.
Haibara: It looked so bad. Geto and I were getting him up, then his parents came out and were like, “What happened?!” and I swear, [puts head in hands] we should’ve just drove off, man. I think us being there must’ve made it worse.
Gojo: [shakes head, smiling softly] I felt so stupid. It only made it worse when—
Nanami: I said, “We have to take him to the hospital,” and then Geto was like, “Get in the van.”
Geto: When I said it, I figured we would take him to the hospital, but his parents just… got in too. Haibara and Nanami slid into the back with the supplies, Shoko was in the backseat with Satoru and his mom, and his dad took the front seat… next to me. I couldn’t decide between flooring it and going the exact speed limit.
Gojo: Worst car ride of my life. I couldn’t move my wrist. [rubs left wrist absently] I could feel my parents judging me. I mean, they put two-and-two together pretty quickly— it was late, they were all there. I was wearing clothes I had borrowed from… [shifts in seat] one of them, all our band stuff was in the back. Even if they hadn’t figured it out yet, it didn’t matter because—
Haibara: I panicked. The car ride was so awkward and then his mom started asking questions like, “What were you thinking, Satoru?” “How long has this been going on, Satoru?” and Gojo wasn’t answering, he just sat there, so I—
Nanami: Haibara opens his big mouth and says something like, “Oh I’m so sorry, ma’am. We’re in a band, and we have a show tonight, and we knew you wouldn’t let Gojo go, so we told him to sneak out, but I promise we’re not bad influences. I mean, Nanami’s on the honor roll, and we all get kinda good grades— except I have a D in Science, but that’s only because Sensei Itoi hates me, and we don’t smoke, and we don’t drink, and we’re all very responsible students. You can even ask my mom and dad.”
Shoko: The van smelled like cigarettes and there were old crushed cans of beer all over the floor. I could see his mom’s face, like she had eaten a sour candy. [makes sour face] I remember thinking, this is it, we’re never going to play together again, band’s over.
Geto: His dad didn’t say anything the whole car ride.
Haibara: When we got to the ER they took Gojo to get X-rays done. We all sat in the waiting room. All four of us were in a row like idiots across from his parents, who were still in their robes and slippers.
Nanami: I couldn’t take the silence anymore, so I told Geto we needed to call the bar and cancel the show. He told me he saw a payphone out by the street, so Haibara and I went to let them know there was a medical emergency. They were pissed, but with enough of our begging we got them to reschedule for the next week.
Shoko: While they did that, I went outside for a smoke. I hate awkward situations. They weren’t talking to us, and we didn’t talk to them. [shrugs]
Geto: I stayed there. Just sitting across from his parents, trying not to look at them. Until finally, his dad said something…
“I don’t know what we’re going to do with him.”
Suguru’s eyes shot up at the words. To say he disliked Satoru’s dad would be an understatement. He hadn’t forgotten about what happened the first time he saw the man. His hand gripped tight around the edge of the wooden armchair as he listened to Satoru’s parents have a conversation as if he wasn’t even there.
Satoru’s mom let out a sigh, putting her head in her hands, “Is this why he’s been acting so strange the past few weeks? Because he’s been sneaking out at night, right under our noses. Who knows what he’s been getting up to.”
She shakes her head, “He told us it was a mistake, he promised he wouldn’t do it again, did we really raise a liar?”
Suguru resisted the urge to roll his eyes. In fact, he almost wanted to laugh at the hysterics. They spoke of Satoru like he was starring in those corny anti-drinking PSAs they showed at school. But instead he pursed his lips, bit his tongue and looked away, doing his best to be a fly on the wall.
“I thought the school transfer would work, but clearly he is keen on throwing his life away.” His father shakes his head, “I’m not sure what else we can do.”
Maybe stop trying to control every aspect of your son’s life. Suguru thought silently.
“I just worry he’s getting mixed in with… the wrong crowd.” Satoru’s mom whispered, giving a small glance towards Suguru.
Suguru gave a small, tightlipped smile at her. His eyebrow raising in an unimpressed look that he was really trying to hold back.
She didn’t acknowledge him, just looked away quickly.
“Well that’s for sure.” Satoru’s dad scoffed, his arms crossed over his chest, “All that talk about music and asking if he could join a band, all the while he’s performing at some dive bar. Doing nothing, but performing for drunks like some dropout.”
“Your son is very talented.” Suguru finally spoke, the words coming out of him like vomit he couldn’t hold back anymore.
The pair looked at him plainly, their eyes clearly tired from the late hour.
“He is.” Suguru continued.
There’s no turning back now, he supposed.
“He has the most incredible voice I have ever heard. And he can write—God, he can write—songs, melodies, everything. I mean, you should hear some of the stuff he writes, it’s so, so good.”
The stares didn’t soften.
“And he’s like the smartest person we know and I’m sure you want him to go to college and we want him to go to college too— like that’d be great and awesome for him and obviously we’d miss him, but if he stays local then we can still see him all the time and maybe the band can just be for fun—”
Suguru rambled. The words wouldn’t stop coming out of his mouth. Satoru’s parents watched him with eyes that became more and more curious. He swallowed and kept going, feeding them half-truths and hoping it would work.
“He is just so wonderful and he’s going to go on and do great things. Everyone knows that. This isn’t going to get in the way of that, I promise. It really is just for fun and he doesn’t—doesn’t smoke or drink or do anything reckless and I promise we’re looking out for him because we know he has a big, major, successful future ahead of him. We just really can’t let his talent go to waste. I mean, really it would just be one show.”
Satoru’s parents looked to Suguru, who was sitting across from them breathless and hopeful.
“... Look,” His dad began, holding his wife’s hand in his own, “this seems to mean a lot to you, but we cannot encourage this. He may be talented. But talent is meaningless without discipline. And dreams…” His mouth tightened. “Dreams are not a future.”
Suguru leaned forward, willing to throw anything at that wall to see what would stick, “One show. He’ll get it out of his system. If it goes nowhere, that’s the end of it.”
“One show?” His mom asked now.
Suguru nodded, “Yes, just one.”
When Satoru returned to the hospital lobby his left wrist was covered in a white cast and hanging in a blue sling around his neck. He approached the group waiting for him, seeing the back of his parents' heads across from his four friends, two separate camps, not speaking.
“Hey,” He got their attention.
At his words his friends stood up, Shoko pulling him into her arms, “You’re okay!”
Satoru winced at her touch.
“Sorry!” She replied, backing away and giving his shoulder a quick apologetic rub.
Before anyone could say anything, Satoru's parents stood, “Let’s go.” His dad said, “Cab is waiting outside.”
“But— what about the show?” Satoru looked back to his friends in remorse.
“We got them to change it to next Sunday.” Nanami replied.
Satoru looked at his parents, awaiting a response from either of them. This time, his mother spoke.
“One show. And then that’s the end of this music… phase.”
“That was so great!” Shoko beamed, still holding the neck of the bass guitar as they exited the back of the bar into the dark alley, the rock music from inside distant against the metal door.
Suguru worked to open the back doors of the van, putting his own guitar in first before taking the others’ instruments.
“Yeah,” Nanami began, helping Suguru and muttering just loud enough for them all to hear, “it was great. Right up until Gojo decided to change the band’s name without warning.”
“Woah, woah,” Satoru spoke with one hand up in feigned innocence, the other still in a sling.
“I did us all a favor, okay? Cursed Energy was a stupid name.” He laughed, earning a small eye roll from Suguru, though he could never really be mad at Satoru, “The Six Eyes is a much cooler name, trust me.”
“He’s right, it is pretty cool.” Haibara chimed in cheerfully, “Though technically, with all of us, it would be ten eyes.”
Nanami rolled his eyes, “Doesn’t matter if it’s cooler. You should’ve asked us first.”
“Fair.” Satoru conceded, “Next time, I’ll call a band meeting. I was just up there with the mic and had to introduce us, it just came to me. I won’t do it again.” He finished with a shrug.
That seemed to be enough for Nanami, who nodded as he helped slide in another piece of Haibara’s kit into the van.
“Who cares about that now?” Shoko cut in, grinning wide, “We did so good, did you hear how they cheered for us?”
Haibara mirrored her excitement, bouncing on his toes. “Yeah! It was nuts!”
The back door screeched open and the bar’s manager, a short man with a cigarette seemingly glued to his bottom lip, stepped into the alley, “There you kids are.”
They all looked at him, practically lighting up at the sight.
“Great show tonight,” he looked at Satoru, “Especially you kid, who knew you could sing like that? I mean, wow!”
Suguru watched as Satoru smiled sheepishly at the man, unsure of what to say.
The manager smirked, taking the cigarette out of his lip and bringing to his side as he tapped the ash away, “Listen. If you want the slot I can put you kids down for every Saturday night. Weekly gig. You’ll get 50% of the bar earnings for the two hours you play, and the house keeps the rest.” He took another drag, speaking sideways, “What do you say?”
Haibara gasped. Shoko squealed. Even Nanami blinked in surprise. Satoru could hear it again— the music. A sound of a growing crescendo, something huge, magnetic in his soul that pushed towards a glowing mountaintop of pure bliss.
Before any of them could say anything, Suguru spoke.
“We appreciate the offer, really.” He replied politely, “But, could we get a chance to discuss it, as a band?”
“Sure, of course. I understand.” The bar manager nodded, dropping his cigarette and squishing it beneath his shoe.
He pushed the door open again, but before he left he turned back over his shoulder, “Oh— and your drinks are comped for the rest of the night. You brought in a great crowd, see you in there to celebrate.” He winked, disappearing inside as the door shut behind him.
“Free drinks.” Shoko whispered, her jaw dropped as she looked at Satoru, who also had his own jaw dropped.
“A weekly gig! A weekly gig!” Haibara took Nanami by the arms and shook him. Nanami couldn’t help but smile incredulously at the words.
“We haven’t accepted yet.” Suguru replied, bringing everyone back down to Earth.
“But we’re going to, right?” Nanami asked.
Suguru gave a quick glance to Satoru. They all knew what it meant. Suguru hadn’t told anyone about the conversation he shared with Satoru’s parents, just that he’d gotten them to agree to one show.
Still, Satoru nodded at Nanami’s words, “We will.”
The three cheered, not giving a second thought to the fact that it wasn’t really up to Satoru at all.
“Let’s go get a drink!” Shoko beamed, taking Satoru by the wrist to pull him inside.
“No, no.” Suguru stopped them. “Satoru’s parents said midnight. We’re already running late as it is. He needs to get home.”
“Oh, come on, he’s already out! Let him celebrate.” Shoko replied, met with agreeing voices beside her.
Satoru shook his head, “No. He’s right. If I want them to agree to the weekly thing, then I got to be home on time tonight. Have a drink for me, I’ll see you all later.”
The group wasted no time in bidding him goodbye as they cheered their way back into the lively bar. Satoru used his good hand to open the van door and jump in beside Suguru, leaning close into him.
“A weekly gig.” Satoru couldn’t contain his smile, taking Suguru’s hand on instinct and squeezing it happily.
“I know.” Suguru smiled, feeling his heart flutter at the touch as he started driving towards Satoru’s home, “This could be really good for us— the band, I mean.”
When they got to the next stoplight the car came to a rolling stop. This time Suguru thought of the near future. The possibility of playing a weekly show, of being on the same stage as Satoru and his friends every week and doing what he loved most. Us. The word rang in his mind. All they needed was for Satoru’s parents to approve.
A few days later, Satoru’s father replied a stern, “Absolutely not.”
“But—” Satoru tried again, following his dad as he stepped into their kitchen, loosening his uniform tie and setting down his school bag. He looked to his mom at the sink giving her his best pleading eyes, “Mom, I know we said one show, but they’re offering more and this can help pay for my tuition and—”
“Your father’s word is final.” She spoke sharply, probably annoyed that this was the third day in the row she had to hear this conversation.
He smacked his lips— a mistake.
His dad turned, his hands gripping the countertop between them. He didn’t need to yell or scream, the quiet response was enough of a warning. The promise of consequences for pushing any further was clear.
“See,” His dad spoke, addressing his wife instead of Satoru in front of him, “This is the kind of disrespect I’m talking about. This is what happens when you surround yourself with delinquents. You become one.”
Satoru could feel himself shrinking, could feel his hopes getting further and further from him.
“I’ll keep my grades up, I promise.” Satoru tried one more time, not caring what consequence would come. He’d hate himself if he didn’t keep trying, “I’ll do anything.”
His dad let out an exhausted sigh, “Fine. But if you do this you do it on our terms. You’re home before midnight every Saturday, you’re up early for temple every Sunday. If you even come home with alcohol or smoke on your breath, it’s done. You maintain perfect grades. You study for your entrance exams every afternoon. You do every single chore in this house, no excuses. You get one band practice a week and it will not interfere with your clubs and activities. And if I even hear a whisper of you being defiant here or at school, then it’s done.”
Satoru gave an inaudible nod in response, short and timid.
“And the second you graduate, it’s all over. All of it will be behind us. Understood?”
Interviewer: Was it ever really a possibility? Quitting the band after graduation?
Gojo: Not a chance in hell.
