Hokuto enters the waiting room, the soft echo of his footsteps barely noticeable in the cavernous space. His fingers grip the neck of the guitar case he’d secretly carried from his hotel.
He glances around, ensuring no one had seen him, then settles onto the plush couch. The quiet room’s air is thick with tension, but not from their upcoming concert.
He gingerly opens the case and takes out the guitar, placing it beside him. The wood is cool and slightly unfamiliar. With a sigh, he sets his tablet on the coffee table, swiping to the digital sheet music he’s struggled with.
He starts to play, the chords resonating through the room. But each missed note, each fumbled chord transition, makes his brow furrow in frustration. A whole month of practice, yet each session feels like his first, clumsy and unpolished.
The unexpected creak of the door jerks Hokuto’s head up. Panic flashes in his eyes. The guitar is too evident, too out of place. But there’s no time to hide it.
Jesse strolls in, his eyes wide with surprise. “What are you doing?” he asks, his voice ringing with genuine curiosity.
Hokuto hesitates, trying to come up with a lie. “Just … trying something new.”
Jesse arches an eyebrow. “With a guitar? Since when?”
His mind draws a blank, and he relents. This news is going to come out soon anyway. “I got cast in a film. Directed by Iwai Shunji. And I need to learn to play the guitar for the role.”
Jesse whistles. “That’s big, Hokuto. How long have you been at it?”
“Just a month,” Hokuto mutters, a hint of embarrassment in his voice. “But with the tour and other schedules, it’s hard.”
Jesse’s eyes dance with mischief. “Why not ask Taiga? He’d be the best teacher.”
Hokuto feels a jolt in his chest. Of course, their manager had offered to ask Taiga — it will be easier for him, since they’re in the same group anyway.
But being alone with Taiga? The idea is both tantalizing and terrifying.
“He’d probably be busy,” he deflects. “Isn’t he working on a musical? He probably won’t have time.”
“Come on! You’re in the same group.” Jesse grins. “And wouldn’t it be fun, having him teach you?”
Hokuto’s eyes dart away from Jesse’s probing stare. “I just … I don’t want him to mock me.”
Jesse chuckles. “I doubt he would. And besides, isn’t it your dream scenario — spending alone time with Taiga?”
Before Hokuto can respond, Jesse startles as he looks at the door from over his shoulder. “They’re coming in. Quick, hide that guitar!”
Frantic, Hokuto stashes the guitar to the side, managing to sit back on the couch just as the door swings open and the other members walk in.
Taiga smiles at him in greeting, then pauses. “You’re early,” he remarks, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
Hokuto manages a smile, his heart fluttering. “Just … wanted a head start with rehearsals,” he mumbles.
Once Taiga heads to the vanity, away from earshot, Jesse silently mouths, “Ask him,” nodding towards Taiga.
But Hokuto, heart pounding, pretends not to notice, even though the thought keeps gnawing at him.
Dim light from a single overhead lamp casts a gentle glow on Hokuto as he sits in the private meeting room at the agency office. The guitar rests against his knee. His fingers, despite their best efforts, continue to falter on the strings. The notes sound discordant, not at all like the song he’s been trying to master. His brow furrows in frustration.
His mind races, trying to reconcile the daunting task ahead. Not only does he need to master the guitar, but he also struggles to find time with his instructor. And his instructor’s schedule always clashes with a magazine shoot, a music show … other work commitment.
The silence of the room feels heavy, echoing his own feelings of inadequacy.
Peering at the clock, he realizes the late hour. His eyelids are heavy, weighed down by exhaustion. Resigned, he packs the guitar into its case, mentally promising himself another try tomorrow.
He steps out of the room, hoping for a quiet exit.
But fate has other plans.
Taiga stands there, fresh from a shoot with his makeup still flawlessly accentuating his stunning features. The soft light captures the subtle shimmer on his face, making him appear even more ethereal than usual.
“Hokuto.” His eyes instantly fixate on the guitar case in Hokuto’s hands. He raises an eyebrow. “Playing guitar now?” he asks, a playful edge to his voice.
Hokuto’s heart rate spikes. “Not … not really,” he stammers out. “It’s for a role. For a movie. Iwai Shunji’s directing.”
Taiga’s eyes widen. “That’s a big deal. When’s the shoot?”
“Latter half of the year,” Hokuto admits, gripping the case tightly, “but I want to be ready.”
“Why didn’t you ask me?” Taiga asks, a playful challenge in his eyes. “Last I checked, I’m decent with a guitar.”
Hokuto feels the familiar flush of embarrassment. “Thought you’d be busy,” he murmurs.
Taiga’s gaze softens. “We can practice here. Or when we’re free during our group schedules.” He shrugs. “Besides, we need a fun story for the fans, right?”
A twinge of disappointment nags at Hokuto. He had hoped for a more personal reason, but he pushes it aside. “Are you sure?” he asks, hopeful.
Taiga nods, his pretty face unreadable. “Of course.”
Their manager booked the music room for them. It’s spacious yet intimate, the walls adorned with memorabilia of their seniors’ past shows and tours.
There’s an air of nervous anticipation as Hokuto enters, guitar case in hand. Taiga is already there, tuning his own guitar.
He doesn’t look up immediately, and Hokuto uses those few seconds to observe him. Those slender fingers move confidently over the strings, and there’s a calmness about him that Hokuto wishes he could share.
“Ready to start?” Taiga asks, raising an eyebrow.
Hokuto nods, setting his guitar on his lap. He feels like a novice next to Taiga, who seems so at ease with the instrument. “I’ve been practicing,” he begins, wanting Taiga to know he's serious about this.
Taiga smirks. “Let’s hear it then.”
Taking a deep breath, Hokuto begins to play the chords he’s been practicing. But under Taiga’s watchful gaze, his fingers falter, missing notes and creating a discordant sound.
Taiga doesn't hide his amusement. “Been practicing, huh?”
Hokuto feels a flush of embarrassment. “I … It sounded better when I was alone.”
Taiga chuckles, his laughter light and teasing. “Relax. We’re here to practice, not to give a concert.” He pauses, considering. “Let’s start with the basics.”
For the next hour, Taiga goes through the chords methodically, correcting Hokuto’s posture, finger placement, and strumming technique. As Taiga begins instructing him, there are moments where their hands come close. Hokuto tries to place his fingers correctly, and at one point, Taiga reaches out to adjust Hokuto’s hand position. Their fingers brush, and a jolt of electricity runs up Hokuto’s arm. He almost pulls away, but Taiga’s fingers are firm yet gentle, guiding him to the correct placement.
Their eyes meet, and for a brief moment, the room seems to shrink, the air growing thick with unspoken words. But just as quickly, the moment passes. Taiga releases Hokuto’s hand, and they continue with the lesson, although Hokuto’s heart continues to race.
Hokuto realizes how much he still has to learn, and Taiga’s straightforwardness, though intimidating at times, is also reassuring. He doesn’t sugarcoat his words, but he’s also patient, repeating instructions until Hokuto gets them right.
They take a short break, and Hokuto can’t help but admire Taiga. The way he handles the guitar, the ease with which he plays, it’s all so captivating.
“You’re really good at this,” Hokuto admits.
Taiga shrugs. “I’ve had years of practice. You’ll get there.”
There’s a moment of silence, and Hokuto takes a chance. “Why did you agree to teach me?”
Taiga looks thoughtful for a moment. “You needed help. And it’s not like we don’t spend time together. This is just … different.”
“Different good or different bad?” Hokuto ventures.
Taiga smirks. “Still deciding.”
The atmosphere grows lighter as they return to their lesson. They laugh over missed notes and celebrate small achievements. Taiga’s straightforward approach is balanced by his patience, and Hokuto feels grateful for his guidance. He wishes he had been braver to ask sooner.
As they wrap up, Taiga notes the progress they’ve made. “Not bad for our first session,” he says with a smile. “You’re getting the hang of it.”
Hokuto smiles. “Thanks to you.”
They pack up their guitars, and as they’re about to leave, Taiga pauses. “Same time next week?”
Hokuto nods. “I’ll be here.”
And he’s definitely looking forward to it.
The recording studio has a certain energy that’s palpable. There’s a constant buzz of activity that always comes with recording new music, and the dimmed lights give everything a soft glow. Off to the side, Hokuto and Taiga spend a few minutes in guitar lessons while Jesse is off recording his parts of their upcoming single.
“Chords are getting smoother,” Taiga observes, fingers dancing over his guitar’s frets, mirroring Hokuto’s movements.
Hokuto smiles. “Thanks to an annoyingly straightforward teacher.”
Taiga grins. “You love it."
Their banter flows more easily now, the initial awkwardness replaced by camaraderie. They’ve found a rhythm outside of their music as well, their interactions punctuated by playful jabs and shared inside jokes.
As they move through another rendition of the song Hokuto needs to master, Taiga suddenly stops and gestures for Hokuto to do the same.
“Hold on, you’re pressing too hard here. He points at Hokuto’s hand, guiding it to the right placement on the guitar neck. Their fingers brush, a fleeting touch, but it sends a small jolt up Hokuto’s arm. He’s acutely aware of how close Taiga is, can sense the warmth radiating off him.
Taiga seems oblivious, or maybe he's just better at hiding his reactions. “There, that’s better,” he notes, moving back and strumming his own guitar.
As they resume playing, Shintaro saunters in, headphones hanging around his neck. “Look at you two,” he drawls, watching them with a teasing glint in his eye. “Almost like a couple in love.”
Taiga shoots him a warning look, but Hokuto just chuckles. “Jealous that you’re not part of our guitar duo?”
Shintaro feigns a dramatic sigh. “Heartbroken, really. But watching young love blossom is its own reward.”
Hokuto can’t help the blush that creeps up his neck, but he’s saved from responding by Taiga’s laughter. “Keep dreaming, Shintaro.”
The younger member winks, making his way to the control room, but not before throwing over his shoulder, “Just saying what everyone’s thinking!”
Hokuto and Taiga share a look, amusement dancing in their eyes before they resume their practice.
The minutes fly by, the music taking them to a place where words aren’t needed. The song Hokuto once fumbled over flows smoothly now, his fingers confidently finding their places.
As they wrap up their impromptu session, Hokuto looks at Taiga. “Thanks for this,” he murmurs. “For everything.”
Taiga just smirks and shrugs. “What are groupmates for?”
Hokuto watches him for a moment, wishing he could decipher the thoughts behind those intense eyes. But maybe, for now, it’s enough to enjoy these moments and the music.
Today, Hokuto is a few minutes early, hoping to get in a bit of practice before Taiga arrives.
But as the door swings open, he’s greeted by the unexpected sight of Taiga hunched over a notebook. His usually lively face is set in a mask of concentration, fingers rapidly moving across the page. Hokuto pauses, taking a moment to admire the sheer focus in Taiga’s posture, the determined set of his jaw.
A few minutes go by, and Taiga, sensing someone’s gaze, finally looks up. A small smile graces his lips as he meets Hokuto’s gaze. “You’re early,” he remarks.
“You’re … writing?” Hokuto counters, nodding toward the notebook.
Taiga hesitates for a fraction of a second before answering. “Yeah, a song. At least, trying to. Been at it for a while.”
Taiga always writes songs whenever he has a chance. It’s a shame that his songs haven’t seen the light of day, at least, released publicly. “What’s this one about?” he asks, stepping closer.
Taiga’s gaze flits to the notebook, then back to Hokuto. “It's … a secret,” he says, but there’s a playful glint in his eyes.
Hokuto feigns a wounded look, placing a hand over his heart. “Keeping secrets from your guitar student now?”
Taiga chuckles. “Maybe one day, when it’s finished. Maybe when it’s done, you’ll be the first to hear it.”
The thought of Taiga sharing a part of himself to him sends a flutter in his heart. “Promise?” he asks, his voice soft.
Taiga meets his gaze, a hint of vulnerability shining through. “Promise,” he replies.
The dim light of the agency’s music room lends a mellow ambiance, creating an intimate space within the vast building. It’s late, well past the hour when the buzzing energy of the day has dissipated, leaving behind a peaceful stillness.
Hokuto sits with his guitar, fingers gliding over the strings, filling the room with soft melodies. Taiga, ever the attentive teacher, listens, occasionally offering corrections or advice.
But as the hours wear on, the music transitions into more casual, free-flowing sessions, both of them improvising, finding joy in the unplanned harmonies.
Eventually, Hokuto sets his guitar aside, a contented sigh escaping his lips. “We should get something to drink,” he suggests.
He’s delighted when Taiga nods in agreement.
The streets outside are quiet, most of the city asleep. They find a quaint bar, the warm light spilling onto the pavement, inviting them in. They settle into a corner booth, the hum of muted conversations surrounding them.
Glasses of whiskey in hand, Taiga raises his in a toast. “To your upcoming debut as a guitarist.”
Hokuto smiles, clinking his glass against Taiga's. The warmth of the drink contrasts with the coolness of the night, and they both lean back, letting the comfort of the moment wash over them.
“You know,” Taiga begins, swirling his drink. “I used to say that beyond what we do as SixTONES, my focus would be on music. But since Newsies … I want to do more musicals.”
Hokuto’s eyebrows lift slightly. “Really? Any particular musicals in mind?”
Taiga’s eyes light up. “Have you heard of ‘Hamilton’? It’s not your typical musical. The storytelling, the blend of hip-hop and classical elements … It’s brilliant.” He chuckles, his cheeks pink.
Hokuto nods. “I’ve heard of it. After recording this morning, maybe you have a shot of playing the lead role.”
Taiga shrugs. “It’s a dream.”
Hokuto takes a sip of his drink. “I get it. With every acting project I do, I just want to be out there. Exploring roles that challenge me, and the world taking notice.”
They fall into a comfortable silence, lost in their own thoughts. But there’s a shared understanding, a mutual longing to chase personal dreams while still holding onto the bond that their group represents.
After a moment, Hokuto speaks up. “You know what I wish? That SixTONES stays together as long as it takes. No matter where our individual paths take us.”
Taiga meets his gaze, the intensity of his feelings evident. “Agreed. We’ve built something special, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
The night wears on, and they continue to share a piece of themselves — their dreams for the group, their fears of being irrelevant eventually, some childhood memories that have them laughing a little too loudly.
When they step out of the bar, the first light of dawn begins to break, painting the sky with hues of pink and orange. Hokuto parts ways with Taiga, promising another lesson, and he walks home with a spring in his step.
The night feels different. Even before Hokuto steps into the room, a certain electric charge permeates the air. Taiga is already inside, fingers strumming a soft tune on his guitar. The ambient lighting casts a soft glow on his face, highlighting his intense focus.
Hokuto, taking a deep breath, enters the room, and Taiga’s gaze meets his for a split second before returning to his guitar.
“Listen,” Taiga murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. Without another word, he starts to play a melody Hokuto hasn’t heard before.
The notes are hauntingly beautiful, tugging at heartstrings Hokuto didn’t even know he had. And then the lyrics come, each word dripping with raw emotion. Hokuto is mesmerized, drawn into the story Taiga is weaving through his song.
The song speaks of longing, of love unspoken, of dreams dashed yet hope still kindling. Every note, every lyric seems to resonate with Hokuto’s own feelings, and he wonders if Taiga feels the same.
The last note hangs in the air, and for a moment, the room is steeped in silence. Hokuto’s breath comes in short gasps, the impact of the song still settling in.
Their eyes meet, an unspoken understanding passing between them. It’s as if the world has shrunk, and it's just the two of them, surrounded by the echoes of the song.
Without realizing it, they lean in, drawn to each other like magnets. Their faces are inches apart, breaths mingling, eyes locked in a deep gaze.
The moment feels suspended in time, and just as their lips are about to meet, Taiga pulls away.
The abruptness of the action leaves Hokuto reeling. The atmosphere, once charged with intimacy, now feels awkward.
Taiga avoids Hokuto’s gaze, busying himself with his guitar, while Hokuto, heart pounding, tries to find words.
“That was .. beautiful,” he finally manages to say, his voice shaky.
Taiga nods, not meeting his gaze. “Just something I’ve been working on.”
Hokuto tries to push past the thick tension. “Can you help me with the bridge? I’m having trouble with the transition.”
Taiga seems grateful for the change in topic and guides Hokuto through the chords. They dive into the lesson, but the undercurrents of what almost happened remain. Every touch, every shared glance is laden with unspoken emotion.
Hokuto grapples with his own feelings, confusion, and hurt warring within him. Why did Taiga pull away? What does this mean for them?
The lesson continues, the music acting as a shield against the raw emotions threatening to spill over. They focus on the chords, the notes, the technicalities, trying to find solace in the familiar routine.
As they wrap up, Hokuto stands, packing his guitar. He hesitates for a moment, then says, “Thank you, for the lesson and for sharing your song.”
Taiga nods, still not meeting his gaze. “Anytime.”
The words hang in the air as Hokuto exits the room, leaving behind a heavy silence.
The corridors of the agency have turned into a labyrinth for Hokuto. Every turn he takes, he hopes and dreads running into Taiga. The weight of the unspoken feelings and the nearly shared kiss hang heavily between them.
During group schedules, their interactions are minimal. They speak when necessary, keeping it strictly professional. The other members sense the tension but choose to remain silent, hoping the two would work things out.
Hokuto finds himself lost in thought more often than not. The memories of that night replay in his mind – the haunting melody, the almost-kiss, the abrupt pull-away. Every time he thinks of it, a pang of hurt courses through him. The walls he had built around his feelings for Taiga have been shattered, and he’s left picking up the pieces.
One evening after practice, Hokuto finds himself in the agency’s rooftop garden. The city lights shimmer below, but their usually calming effect does nothing to soothe him tonight. He sits on a bench, the cool breeze ruffling his hair, lost in the labyrinth of his thoughts.
Why did Taiga pull away?
What are they now?
The soft sound of footsteps interrupts his reverie. He looks up to find Yugo approaching, concern evident in his eyes. “Mind if I join you?” he asks softly.
Hokuto nods, shifting to make space on the bench.
“You and Taiga have been distant,” Yugo starts, choosing his words carefully. “Did you two fight?”
Hokuto looks away. “Not really.” And proceeds to tell Yugo about the incident at the music room. “I just …” he adds when he finishes. “I thought we had something. But maybe I was wrong.”
Yugo sighs, placing a reassuring hand on Hokuto’s shoulder. “Feelings are complicated. Maybe he’s just as confused as you are.”
“But why avoid me?” Hokuto’s voice trembles.
Yugo remains silent for a moment, searching for the right words. “Sometimes, when we’re faced with strong emotions, our first instinct is to run. To protect ourselves from potential pain.”
Hokuto takes a deep breath, the weight of Yugo's words sinking in. “So, what do I do now?”
Yugo gives him a gentle smile. “Give it time. And when you’re ready, talk to him.”
They sit in silence for a while, the city lights below painting a picture of serenity. Yugo’s words provide some solace, but Hokuto knows that his advice is easier said than done.
After a while, Yugo stands, patting Hokuto's shoulder. “Remember, you’re not alone in this. We’re here for you.”
Hokuto nods, gratitude evident in his eyes. “Thanks, Yugo.”
As Yugo walks away, Hokuto is left with his thoughts once again. He has to talk to Taiga, figure out where they stand.
For his peace of mind.
Late one evening, as the group gathers in the practice room, Yugo shares a glance with Juri, Jesse, and Shintaro.
Juri speaks up first, rubbing his neck. “Uh, my neck’s been filling stiff. Yugo, wanna help me with some stretches?”
Yugo nods, catching on immediately. “Sure. We can use the small room down the hall.”
Jesse chimes in. “Shin and I have some dance moves to practice. Think we’ll need some space!”
The youngest member nods in agreement.
Within minutes, Hokuto and Taiga find themselves alone in the practice room, the silence thickening around them. The soft hum of the air conditioner is the only sound as they stand on opposite sides of the room, avoiding each other’s gaze.
Taking a deep breath, Hokuto breaks the silence. “Kyomoto … why have you been avoiding me?”
Taiga’s eyes widen momentarily, and he hesitates. “It’s … complicated.”
Hokuto steps closer. “Then help me understand. Why did you pull away that night?”
Taiga takes a moment, as if his mind racing. Gathering his courage, he replies. “Because I didn’t trust myself. Being that close to you, feeling the way I did … It was overwhelming.”
Hokuto’s heart skips a beat, hope and confusion mingling. “What are you saying?”
Taiga takes a deep breath, his eyes locking onto Hokuto’s. “I’m saying that I’ve been fighting these feelings for a long time. But that night, with the music and the moment, it felt like everything was falling into place. And it scared me.”
Hokuto’s vision blurs. He steps even closer, bridging the gap between them. “Kyomo—Taiga … I’ve felt the same way. For a long time now. I’ve been trying to hide it, trying to pretend it’s not there. But every time we’re together, every glance, every touch, it just … It feels right.”
Taiga nods, emotion choking his voice. “I know. I feel it too.”
They stand there, mere inches apart, the weight of their confessions settling between them. Hokuto can’t believe this is happening. He had dreamt of this, but he was content to just dream.
“So,” Hokuto says, voice barely above a whisper, “what do we do now?”
Taiga hesitates. Slowly, he reaches out, gently cradling Hokuto’s face. “I guess … we take it one day at a time,” he murmurs, leaning in.
The world seems to slow as their lips inch closer. Every breath, every heartbeat is amplified.
When their lips finally touch, it’s soft and tentative, a gentle exploration. It’s a kiss filled with unspoken emotions, the culmination of suppressed feelings and yearning. The taste of hope, of new beginnings, passes between them.
As they part, taking a moment to catch their breath and process the gravity of what just transpired, a loud, triumphant yell shatters the intimate bubble they’ve created.
“I KNEW IT!” echoes through the door, unmistakably Jesse's voice.
The door swings open to reveal Jesse, Yugo, Juri, and Shintaro, all grinning ear to ear, with Shintaro clutching his phone, presumably recording the entire thing.
“So, how long have you all been there?” Hokuto asks, a hint of exasperation in his voice.
“Long enough,” Shintaro replies, eyes twinkling.
Taiga groans, burying his face in his hands. “You guys are impossible.”
Yugo gives them a wink. “Just looking out for you two idiots.”
As the rest continue their teasing, Hokuto and Taiga’s gaze meet amidst the chaos. Their shared look is embarrassment from their friends’ intrusion.
But Hokuto also sees a look of affection, and Hokuto’s heart flutters, knowing that all is well.
The live is finally over, although the audience continues to erupt in applause. The relief flooding Hokuto is palpable — months of preparation, guitar lessons, and emotional turmoil had culminated in this moment. The weight of the guitar on his back feels like a badge of honor as he follows his co-stars backstage.
Aina smiles as she pats him on the shoulder. “You did great,” she praises, her eyes sincere. “Honestly, if I didn’t know better, I’d believe you’ve been playing the guitar for years.”
Hokuto chuckles. “Thank you. It wasn’t easy, but I had a good teacher.” The unspoken name hangs between them, but Hokuto isn’t ready to share that part of his journey just yet.
She gives him an understanding nod, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. “Well, whoever your teacher is, they did an excellent job.”
With the live finished and the initial post-performance buzz starting to wane, Hokuto feels an urge to retreat, to gather his thoughts. He excuses himself, heading to the sanctuary of his dressing room.
Settling into a plush chair, he takes out his phone, browsing through congratulatory messages from friends. But one message stands out – a text from Taiga.
“Watched the live. You were amazing,” it reads.
Hokuto’s heart skips a beat. His fingers hover over the screen as he types a response. “Thanks. Did I look convincing?”
Almost instantly, Taiga replies, his playful tone evident even in the text. “Very. Though I must admit, I was too focused on the guitarist to notice the guitar.”
Hokuto laughs, warmth spreading through him. “Is that so?”
There’s a brief pause before Taiga sends another message. “Want to meet up and celebrate?”
Hokuto doesn’t need to think twice. “Absolutely.”