The event banner stretched across the hall in bold letters — FANTASTIC PARK — and underneath it, the eight of them stood in the backstage corridor waiting for the MC to finish their opening speech.
Taiki could hear the crowd through the monitor screen. Thousands of them.
He tried to swallow.
The scratch in his throat had started two days ago. He'd ignored it. Yesterday it got worse. This morning he woke up and did vocal warmup, and what came out was barely a whisper.
Now he stood in his stage costume, holding a cup of warm honey lemon. He didn't drink it because it was already his third cup and it had stopped helping around the second.
Beside him, Sekai leaned against the wall scrolling through his phone, completely unbothered.
Keito pressed his face close to Taiki's.
"Taiki-kun, say something. Say ahhh."
Taiki opened his mouth and tried his best. Keito looked concerned.
"Your voice is not improving."
"I know." Even saying those words made Taiki wince. His voice came out like a broken radio signal.
Sota appeared next to Keito and tilted his head.
"How many times did you practice anyway?"
Taiki didn't answer immediately.
"Taiki-kun?"
"We practiced together around ten times." He paused. "I also practiced alone."
Sota frowned but he didn't say anything again. He just patted Taiki's back lightly.
Sekai looked up from his phone and looked at Taiki for a moment. Then he put his phone in his pocket and pushed off the wall.
"Don't worry about it."
"Sekai-san—"
"We have discussed about it earlier today. I'm taking the vocals and dance, and you're taking the dance only."
"I know," Taiki sounded rough, his brows furrowed. "I'm just not used to last-minute plan changes—"
"Last-minute changes are bound to happen." Sekai looked at him. "Do your part professionally."
The MC's voice boomed through the monitor. The event started.
••●━━━━━━●••
The event went successful. Staff moved around collecting props. Someone had opened a box of onigiri and the members gathered around it like moths.
Keito held one up in each hand, unable to choose.
"Both," Sota said flatly, not even looking up.
Keito took both.
Taiki smiled at that, laughed a little when Sawanatsu stole a piece of Keito's salmon onigiri mid-bite and Keito made a sound like a wounded animal. He answered when Horinatsu asked him something about the setlist. He nodded along when Leiya started talking about the crowd reaction during the second half.
He was there. But the back of his mind kept pulling him elsewhere.
The image came back—Sekai standing on the stage, covering every single vocal line while still hitting every mark in the choreography. Like it had always been the plan.
Taiki had stood beside him and danced, which was all he could do. His mouth had moved out of habit on the parts he knew, but no voice came out.
Ten practices. At least ten practices.
They'd sat together going over harmonies. There was that one session where Sekai had made him run the bridge four times because he kept singing off-key. Taiki had gone home that night and practiced it again by himself because he wanted to be ready. Because he'd been genuinely excited. Because being paired with Sekai for this felt like something he wanted to get right.
And then he'd woken up the morning of the event and his voice was gone.
Gradually the green room thinned out. Horinatsu and Leiya left together. Then Sawanatsu, still half-asleep. Yusei and Sota headed out around the same time, Yusei pausing at the door to glance at Taiki with worried expression, and Taiki answered it with a smile and small nod.
Keito lingered longest, still eating chips.
"Taiki-kun, are you—"
"I'm fine, Kei-chan. Get some sleep."
Keito looked at him, then looked at Sekai, who was calmly packing his bag in the corner, then looked back at Taiki.
"Okay." He grabbed his jacket and left.
The door clicked shut.
Sekai zipped his bag and set it down without looking up. "You've been apologising with your face for the last two hours."
"I haven't said anything."
"That's what I mean."
Taiki sat down on the chair. The folded jacket was still on his lap. He put it aside.
"We practiced ten times." His voice came out rough. "More than that. I practiced by myself on top of that. I was so… I was really looking forward to it."
Sekai finally looked at him. "It went fine."
"You carried the whole song."
"And it went fine." He said it plainly. "The audience cheered for us. The performance landed just fine."
"That's not the point."
"Then what's the point?"
Taiki pressed his mouth together.
The point was that Sekai had, once again, quietly picked up everything Taiki dropped and carried it without complaint. The point was that this was not the first time.
The point was that Taiki had known this man for sixteen years, and somewhere across all of those years, Sekai had become the constant that Taiki measured everything else against, and tonight all Taiki had managed to do was make that man's job harder.
His chest felt tight.
"You always do this," Taiki said quietly.
Sekai was quiet.
"When I couldn't get the footwork right for a new song, you stayed for hours after everyone else left." Taiki wasn't looking at him. "When there was a problem and we had to rearrange the entire formation—you didn't tell anyone, you just quietly adjusted everything and made sure no one panicked."
"That was my job."
"It wasn't, though. Not all of it." Taiki shook his head. "And even before FANTASTICS. When we were living together and I was still trying to figure out how to even exist in LDH, you always knew when something was wrong. You'd just... put food in front of me, or suggest we watch something, or you'd start talking about something completely unrelated until I calmed down."
Taiki kept going. "You always make it look like nothing. Like it costs you zero effort." His voice was quieter now. "But I know how much you carry. I know because I'm standing right next to you. And you never ask for anything in return, you never even bring it up afterward."
Taiki caught himself. He realized his eyes had gone warm. He then laughed and pressed the back of his hand against his face.
"When I lay it all out like this, it sounds ridiculous." He stared at the floor. "It's too many things. Too many years. I can't even count them all properly. I don't know how to repay any of it."
"You don't have to."
Taiki looked up.
Sekai's voice was straightforward, no sugarcoat as always.
"We're both leaders. You think you're the only one getting carried?" He tilted his head slightly. "You're the one the members go to when they're having a rough day. You're the one who remembers everyone's food allergies, calls them on their birthdays and makes the whole room feel like it's okay to take up space. That's not nothing, Taiki."
"That's not the same."
"It's exactly the same."
"It's not. You help me more than I help you, Sekai-san."
Sekai blinked and frowned. "That's not how this works."
"That's how this works. Give and take relationship."
"Now you're being stubborn."
"I'm being accurate."
"You're being stubborn and calling it accurate."
"Sekai-san—"
"Let it go."
"I can't."
Sekai exhaled through his nose. He looked at the ceiling for a moment, like he was asking it for patience, then looked back at Taiki. This argument had no winner and they both knew it.
After another beat of silence, Sekai let it drop. His lips stretched into a smirk.
"Fine. If you're that desperate to repay me, give me something I actually want." He shrugged, making air quotes on 'repay'.
Taiki blinked. "What can I do?"
Sekai reached up and tapped his own lips few times lightly.
Taiki's brain stalled completely.
Sekai was smiling, which meant it was a joke.
It had to be a joke, except his eyes were dead serious. Taiki's face had gone completely hot and he had absolutely no idea what expression he was making right now.
The smirk was still on Sekai's face but he suddenly looked nervous. He let out a short laugh and rubbed the back of his neck.
"I'm obviously joking. Forget it."
Taiki looked at him.
He didn't think much. He'd already spent many years thinking about it, calculating it, talking himself down from it, and he was tired. He was tired pretending, and now there was a small opening, whether it was real or not.
He crossed the space between them, took Sekai's face in both hands, and kissed him.
It was barely a few seconds. Taiki pulled back, and they stared at each other. Sekai's eyes widened, like he was caught completely off guard. It was probably only the second time lifetime that Taiki ever saw Sekai's genuinely surprised face.
Neither of them said anything.
Then Sekai's expression rearranged itself. The corners of his mouth pulled up again, and there it was—that smirk, which tell he was about to make Taiki's life difficult.
"That's it? I cover your vocals and looked after you during the entire event. I carried the whole thing on my back, and you only give me that?" He gestured vaguely at the air between them. "I'm insulted."
Taiki's face burned. "You're so demanding. I want the selfless Sekai-san back."
Sekai grabbed him by the collar and kissed him properly.
Sekai's hand slid up from Taiki's collar to the back of his neck, fingers pressing into his hair, angling him exactly where he wanted. Sekai's other hand found his waist, pulling him closer like closing a gap that had always been there for years.
Taiki made a whimpering sound against his mouth and gripped the front of Sekai's shirt with both hands. He could feel the warmth of Sekai's palm even through the fabric.
Sekai kissed him deep, like he asked nothing and yet took everything at the same time. Hands slid up along Taiki's side, palm dragging over his back and ribs, and Taiki's hands flattened against his chest just to have something solid to hold.
Sekai pulled back just enough.
"That's how you kiss." His lips brushed Taiki's mouth when he spoke.
Taiki stared at Sekai's reddened lips. Taiki's thoughts were completely empty after the kiss.
"How many kisses do I owe you to make up for today?" Taiki asked in whisper.
Sekai hummed, thinking like it's a very serious question.
"Duration of the event. Kiss for every minute."
Taiki huffed a laugh. "The event lasted for at least two and a half hours. I can't possibly do that in one go." Taiki stared at him playfully. "Can I pay in installments?"
"Sure. Installments are fine. But there will be interest."
Taiki laughed again despite his rough voice. He brought his hand up and touched Sekai's cheek, thumb resting lightly at the corner of his jaw.
"Okay, I can do that," Taiki said quietly.
Sekai looked at him for a moment, then he took Taiki by the waist. He leaned back on the sofa, pulling Taiki down with him until Taiki was settled on his lap. Sekai's hands settled on either side of his waist, thumbs drawing slow circles.
"Good. Let's start with the first installment." Sekai's mouth curved.
Taiki rolled his eyes, but he was already leaning in.