The agency didn’t even call them.
They summoned them.
All of them showed up.
Except for Taiga.
Hokuto sat in a cold meeting room, surrounded by their manager and an extremely nervous PR staffer.
A printed tabloid lay on the table in front of him. The headline screamed:
"SECRET ROMANCE? SixTONES Matsumura Hokuto Spotted Leaving Late-Night Dinner with Rising Actress Hirano Rena!"
He stared at it, expression unreadable.
“It was just a meal,” he said flatly, the words nearly swallowed by the tense air.
“She got in the same van as you,” the manager replied, his voice tight, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.
“Because it was raining,” Hokuto answered, his tone steady.
“The paparazzi don’t care about the weather,” the manager shot back.
The weight of the words hit Hokuto harder than he expected. His eyes flicked to the tabloid again. It was out of his hands now.
The other members just watched, uncertain. None of them knew whether to step in or stay silent.
This wasn’t their usual brand of chaos.
This was serious.
And none of them knew how to help Hokuto, who was helpless, cornered, and caught in a scandal.
Meanwhile, a certain someone named Kyomoto Taiga had yet to make it to the meeting.
Taiga was late. Definitely.
He was blissfully unaware of the world erupting around him as he slept peacefully in his bed.
It wasn’t until the relentless buzz of his phone broke the silence that he stirred, blinking awake from a dreamless sleep.
When he cracked his eyes open, he saw 66 unread messages in the SixTONES group chat, a missed call from his manager, and a text demanding he get to the office immediately, which stated:
"URGENT MEETING. Get to the office. Now."
Groggy and confused, he rolled out of bed, took a shower, and then threw on whatever clothes were closest and headed out, not even bothering to check his reflection. If they had the audacity to wake him up during his beauty sleep, then clearly something big had happened. Something worth interrupting his rest.
On the way, he scrolled through the group chat, eyes narrowing as the chaos unfolded message by message.
SixTONES Group Chat
[Jesse]:
Did you see the news???
[Shintaro]:
Hoku is SCANDALOUS !!!!
[Kochi]:
He's trending. Again.
[Juri]:
“Secret romance” my ass. He's incapable of romantic gestures.
[Taiga]:
What the hell is going on? I slept for 6 hours and the group fell apart?!
[Jesse]:
TAIGA.
Get. Here. NOW.
The tension in this room could split the earth.
[Shintaro]:
Hoku hasn’t blinked in 10 minutes. I’m scared.
[Juri]:
PR looks like they’re about to cry.
[Kochi]:
We might lose Hokuto to exile. Or a forced apology post. Or both.
[Jesse]:
For real, hurry up. This room is about to implode.
[Shintaro]:
If we get cancelled, I’m blaming your alarm clock. Or your phone.
[Taiga]:
I have an alarm. I just ignored it.
[Kochi]:
Mood. But also RUN. We are dying here.
Back at the office, the agency dropped the bomb.
“We’re denying the dating rumors,” the manager said calmly, as if it were any ordinary Tuesday.
“She’s not your girlfriend,” he added, barely glancing up from the file in front of him as if he was reading off a script. His eyes flicked between Hokuto and the rest of the members, waiting for a reaction.
“Good,” Hokuto muttered, arms crossed.
“And,” the PR staffer chimed in, flipping through notes like this was a well-rehearsed press conference, “we’ll need an alternative explanation for why you were seen… holding hands.”
Hokuto blinked. “We weren’t.”
“The internet thinks you were,” the manager said flatly, cutting in before PR could answer.
Then came the sentence that would haunt Hokuto for the rest of his life:
“So we’re releasing a statement that you’re dating Kyomoto Taiga.”
A pause.
“…Your bandmate,” the manager clarified, just in case the first part wasn’t devastating enough.
“I’m sorry, what,” Hokuto stared blankly, his voice flat, body frozen.
Around him, the rest of SixTONES collectively short-circuited.
Shintaro’s jaw dropped.
Jesse let out a sound that could only be described as a gasp-choke.
Kochi’s water bottle slipped from his hand and thudded onto the floor.
And Juri looked like he was mentally calculating how fast he could flee the room without looking suspicious.
SixTONES Group Chat (During the Meeting)
[Shintaro]:
THEY’RE WHAT NOW?
[Juri]:
Who in management thought this was a good idea
[Kochi]:
Taiga gonna pass out
[Jesse]:
WAIT!! IS THIS OUR CHANCE??
[Kochi]:
…. What
[Jesse]:
To be the second couple in the group !
[Kochi]:
Do. Not. Flirt. In. A. Crisis. Room.
[Juri]:
This is not a BL drama, Jesse.
[Shintaro]:
Plot twist: it kinda is now. WE ARE THE DRAMA!
Just then, the door creaked open.
Every head in the room turned.
There stood Taiga, disheveled hoodie, one sneaker untied, and pure confusion written all over his face.
He blinked, then yawned.
“Did someone die …wait, WHAT?!”
He had caught exactly the wrong sentence at the worst time:
“We’re releasing a statement that you’re dating Kyomoto Taiga.”
Taiga froze mid-step, eyes wide.
“Excuse me?! I just woke up from a nap and now I’m in the headlines?!”
Juri buried his face in his hands.
Hokuto looked like he was silently pleading with the heavens.
Jesse and Shintaro were absolutely beaming.
Kochi was praying for sanity still within this group.
The PR staffer looked moments away from a breakdown.
And Taiga?
Taiga just wanted to go back to sleep.
“This is the agency’s decision. Just follow it, and stick to the plan. Play your roles. Make it convincing,” the manager said, his gaze shifting between Taiga and the others.
“We’ll update you with any changes. Stay as low-profile as possible until the next move. And Hokuto, Taiga, get ready. We’ll need a new photo of you two. That’s all. Dismissed.”
With that, he turned and exited the room, the PR staff trailing behind him.
Silence settled like fog.
The remaining members glanced between Hokuto and Taiga, none of them daring to speak first.
“…Alright,” Juri finally said, breaking the tension. “We’ll leave you two alone. Try not to punch each other.”
He nudged the others toward the door, ushering them out.
Before closing it behind him, he took one last look back. Then shut the door gently and whispered a quiet prayer that everything wouldn’t implode.
After everyone left, Hokuto stood up and walked slowly toward Taiga, who was still lingering by the door.
The silence between them was heavier than anything the agency had just thrown at them.
Taiga rubbed his temple. “So… we’re dating now?”
Hokuto leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. “Apparently.”
Taiga scoffed. “Do I get a say in it? Or do I just wake up to find out I’ve been assigned a boyfriend?”
That made Hokuto flinch, just slightly.
He didn’t look at Taiga when he said, “It’s just a PR move. It’ll blow over.”
“…Right.” Taiga nodded, but the bite in his tone didn’t go unnoticed. “Because rumors are easier to deny when you’re fake-dating your actual bandmate.”
Hokuto finally looked at him. “What do you want me to say?”
Taiga held his gaze. “I don’t know. Maybe that this is insane? That you hate it too? That we should fight it?”
There was a pause. A long one.
Then Hokuto said softly, “…I don’t hate it.”
Taiga froze.
“What?” he asked, but it came out quieter than he meant it to.
Hokuto looked away. “Forget it.”
“No,” Taiga said, stepping closer. “Say it again.”
But Hokuto just shook his head and pushed off the wall. “We should go. They’ll want photos soon.”
He opened the door, walked off without looking back, leaving Taiga standing there. Heart racing, mind spinning, trying to remember if they were still pretending .
Later that day, the press release dropped:
"SixTONES Matsumura Hokuto and SixTONES Kyomoto Taiga have recently grown close and are currently getting to know each other better."
The fandom exploded .
Especially the fans who had been shipping the two for years. It was like a prayer answered, a miracle made real.
The day had finally come.
The moment they’d been waiting for.
#KyomoHoku trended within minutes.
Fan edits flooded the timeline.
Clips.
Slow-motion stares.
Hand-holding theories.
A decade’s worth of sidelong glances were suddenly reinterpreted as the gaze of soulmates-in-the-making.
Some even claimed they’d known it all along.
And SixTONES?
They were thriving in the chaos.
SixTONES Group Chat
[Juri]:
I give them two weeks before Taiga actually falls.
[Shintaro]:
Bold of you to assume he hasn’t already.
[Jesse]:
I can’t wait for couple merch!
[Kochi]:
Can’t believe we’re living in the era where Hokuto and Taiga are officially a couple.
[Taiga]:
STOP TALKING ABOUT ME I’M RIGHT HERE
[Juri]:
Exactly. That’s why we’re calling you out. Also, Hokuto, stop ghosting.
[Hokuto]:
I have no words.
[Jesse]:
Don’t worry. We’ll make this as real as possible. We’re professionals.
[Taiga]:
DON’T OVERDO IT, JESSE!
[Shintaro]:
Strategically speaking, we’re just accelerating a narrative.
[Kochi]:
AND SO IT BEGINS.
The official statement had been live for less than a day, and already:
The agency called it “Operation: Control the Narrative.”
Taiga called it “Operation: Please Let Me Sleep. Or Die.”
“You’re going on a coffee date tomorrow,” their manager said one morning, after a few days of relative quiet.
“In public. In broad daylight. With matching masks.”
He said it like it wasn’t the most ridiculous thing anyone had ever heard.
“Why are the masks matching?” Taiga muttered, deadpan.
“The fans will eat it up,” the manager shrugged.
Taiga blinked. “I’m going to throw up.”
Hokuto, calm as ever, simply said, “Smile. It’s just a fake date.”
SixTONES Group Chat
[Shintaro]:
DATE ALERT. I repeat: DATE ALERT.
[Juri]:
Hokuto and Taiga going to a cafe together? What year is this???
[Kochi]:
Wait. Are they seriously wearing matching masks?? Who planned this? Give them a raise.
[Jesse]:
If they actually kiss I’m deleting my account (I’m not strong enough for this)
[Taiga]:
I HATE ALL OF YOU
Their first “date” was scheduled for 11 a.m., and Taiga was already regretting his life choices by 11:01.
The cafe was exactly the kind of place that screamed, “Please take photos of us pretending to be normal.”
Warm lighting. A big window. Too aesthetic for its own good.
Taiga was already waiting outside, wearing a gray mask and a gray hoodie (Hokuto’s, actually).
“You wore my hoodie on purpose,” Hokuto said as he arrived, also wearing a gray mask paired with a black hoodie.
Mask matching. As they want.
“It was on my chair,” Taiga replied with a shrug.
“It was on your chair because I took it off yesterday,” Hokuto deadpanned.
“I’m doing the agency a favor, I guess. You’re welcome for the boyfriend look.”
Taiga shrugged again, then stepped into the cafe. Hokuto followed.
They settled at a small round table in the corner but close enough to the window to look candid, far enough to pretend they had privacy.
Two drinks sat untouched between them.
They didn’t speak for the first five minutes.
Not because they didn’t have anything to say.
But because a camera flashed outside the window and Taiga’s soul left his body.
“Are we supposed to talk?” he asked finally.
Hokuto took a slow sip of his drink. “We could. About the weather. Or our fake undying love.”
Taiga rolled his eyes. “You think you’re funny.”
“I think the fans think I’m romantic.”
“Gross.”
“And yet here you are. On a date with me.”
“I’m literally being held hostage.”
“You’re holding my hand under the table.”
Taiga yanked his hand back with a curse. “What the .. ! I didn’t … ”
Hokuto laughed, low and quiet.
“I was startled by the camera outside,” Taiga huffed, ears pink.
“They can’t see under this table,” Hokuto said, sipping again. “If we’re going to sell it, we should go all in.”
“Shut up, Hokuto,” Taiga hissed.
After the cafe date, they strolled through a nearby park. Close enough to look natural, not too close to raise eyebrows, but not far enough to spark questions. Basically the so-called second “fake date”.
Photographers were definitely tailing them. One even tripped trying to hide behind a tree, earning a snort from Taiga.
Then, without warning, Hokuto reached for his wrist and tugged him closer.
The touch was casual, familiar.
Like he’d done it a hundred times before. Like it still meant something.
Taiga’s breath hitched for half a second. His instinct screamed to pull away, but the cameras were watching. Always watching.
So he stayed.
“You’re supposed to look in love,” Hokuto murmured, just loud enough for Taiga to hear.
“I’m trying not to punch you. That’s close enough.”
“You do look red, though.”
Taiga clenched his jaw. “It’s the sun.”
“It’s cloudy.”
He didn’t answer. His cheeks burned hotter anyway.
“SHUT UP,” he snapped, a little too loud. A bird took off from a nearby branch.
But Hokuto only smiled, like he’d already won something.
That night, Taiga returned home, dropped his phone on the bed, and collapsed beside it. He stared at the ceiling, brain spinning.
He grabbed my wrist.
He smiled like it meant something.
It felt…
Real.
Taiga sighed, rolling onto his side. “This is starting to confuse me. Why the hell is Hokuto doing everything he did today?”
His thoughts wouldn’t stop spiraling. Or maybe he was just overthinking, again.
Hokuto was only doing his job. That’s all. He always took work seriously. Of course he should do it. It was just PR. Right?
Taiga reached for his phone, unlocking it… then locking it again. Twice.
Finally, he opened his socials.
He was certain their pictures from today were trending already.
“Why were we laughing like we actually enjoyed it?” he muttered. “Is this even fake anymore?”
He stared at one of the pictures. The two of them mid-laugh, like a real couple, like something behind the smile meant something.
Taiga’s chest tightened.
He closed the app immediately.
“That can’t be.”
Meanwhile, in his own apartment, Hokuto was curled up on the couch, scrolling through his social media.
Fan edits flooded the timeline. Some were hilariously over-the-top, with dramatic music, sparkles, soft-focus zooms.
Others were just quiet snapshots of the two of them mid-laugh, looking...
Happy.
He paused on one.
They were standing close, eyes crinkled, mid-laugh.
He zoomed in on Taiga’s smile. Soft.
Hokuto let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.
Then muttered to himself:
“Fake my ass.”
SixTONES Group Chat
[Jesse]:
Cute date. 8/10. Needs more touching.
[Kochi]:
I saw the way Taiga looked at him.
[Taiga]:
Can I block this group?
[Shintaro]:
Do it and we make a new one.
[Juri]:
Don’t worry. We're already planning your couple merch line. Maybe hoodies say “I Fake-Date My Bandmate (And I Like It)”
[Hokuto]:
Oh
[Taiga]:
I SWEAR TO GOD! I’m deleting all of you from my life!
[Shintaro]:
You’re already in the soft-launch stage. Just do it!
After the group chat finally died down, Hokuto stayed where he was. Still curled into the couch like the silence might hold him together.
The only light in the room came from his phone, casting soft blue shadows across his face.
The smile he wore earlier had long since faded.
He thought about the way Taiga’s hand fit into his.
The warmth of his wrist. The way Taiga didn’t pull away right away but just... stood there.
His fingers hovered over Taiga’s name in his messages.
He didn’t type anything. Didn’t open the chat. Just stared at it for a while.
Then he locked the screen. Let it drop to his chest.
“Don’t make this complicated, Hokuto,” he muttered to himself.
The third “fake date” came sooner than expected.
This time, the agency wanted them to be seen coming out of a convenience store together.
“Casual, normal, couplecore vibes.”
Jesse called it “Gay errands.”
Kochi called it “Netflix marketing.”
Taiga called it “Hell.”
It was colder than expected that evening.
Hokuto showed up late, hair still damp from a shower, wearing a black jacket that somehow made his legs look longer and his aura look more expensive.
Taiga, wearing two hoodies and still somehow freezing, felt instantly underdressed. And, frankly, unprepared.
“Hey,” Hokuto greeted, casual as ever.
“Hi,” Taiga replied, very much not casually.
They entered the store.
Hokuto went straight for the snacks. Taiga wandered toward the bottled teas. It was quiet. Normal. Almost easy.
Until it wasn’t.
The moment was small.
It happened in a blink.
Hokuto turned mid-aisle, walking toward him.
No words. No warning. He reached out and gently brushed a strand of Taiga’s hair back into place. His fingers lingered just a beat too long.
Taiga froze, too stunned to react.
And then Hokuto walked away like nothing happened.
Taiga stared down at the bottle in his hand, only realizing then how close he was to dropping it.
He heard a muffled gasp. Somewhere to his left.
Definitely someone recording. He didn’t even have to look.
Taiga was right. Two cameras caught it. And already 17 Twitter fansites posted it. It trended within minutes.
Somewhere across Tokyo, Jesse screamed. Not a normal scream. A feral one.
He immediately screen-recorded the clip, added sparkles and dramatic zooms, and dumped it into the group chat with zero context.
Back at the convenience store, Taiga and Hokuto hadn’t even made it to the exit.
They were still in line.
Their phones buzzed simultaneously, like they were being summoned to hell.
Notifications poured in like a tsunami just as they reached the cashier.
They exchanged a glance.
“Did someone die?” Taiga asked, deadpan.
“Yeah,” Hokuto muttered. “Us.”
SixTONES Group Chat
[Jesse]:
BREAKING NEWS!! HE TOUCHED HIS BANGS. I REPEAT. BANGS. WERE. TOUCHED.
[Kochi]:
That’s… kinda intimate, tho?? Like, a K-drama episode 8 level intimate.
[Taiga]:
IT WAS STATIC ELECTRICITY
[Juri]:
Oh cool, static comes with a soft smile now? Explain that, professor.
[Shintaro]:
He blushed so hard he turned into a tomato.
[Jesse]:
WAIT I’M MAKING AN EDIT. TITLE: “THE MOMENT THEY FELL IN LOVE AT FAMILYMART”
[Taiga]:
I’M DELETING THIS ENTIRE CHAT HISTORY
[Hokuto]:
Tomato Taiga is kinda cute tho
[Taiga]:
I HATE YOU ALL.
[Jesse]:
Love you too!
Taiga glared at Hokuto, who was shamelessly playing along with the others like it was nothing. Hokuto just shrugged, as innocent.
They stepped out of the store, and the wind hit hard.
Taiga flinched, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. “Holy hell —”
Before he could finish the curse, Hokuto was already peeling off his jacket.
And then, without a word, he draped it over Taiga’s shoulders. Wrapped him in it. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Taiga blinked. The jacket was warm. Heavy. It smelled like Hokuto, that stupid mix of expensive detergent and something else. Something weirdly comforting. Familiar. Hard to describe.
“What are you doing?” he hissed.
“You’re cold.”
“We’re being watched,” Taiga gritted out, eyes darting to a group of girls across the street. They were definitely filming.
“Exactly.” Hokuto’s voice was calm. Controlled. Way too smug.
Taiga turned to him slowly. “You’re enjoying this.”
Hokuto gave a half-smile, the one that always spelled doom. For Taiga, specifically. “I’m just committed to the bit.”
Taiga opened his mouth. Closed it again. He tugged the jacket tighter around himself, jaw tense.
“This doesn’t feel fake,” he muttered.
Hokuto looked at him. Quiet. Eyes unreadable.
“That’s your problem.”
Taiga didn’t respond.
Didn’t give the jacket back either.
They made it to the van in silence.
Their manager eyed them from the driver’s seat, expression unreadable behind the rearview mirror.
Taiga climbed in first, still wearing Hokuto’s jacket. Hokuto followed, calm as ever, as if he hadn’t just emotionally destabilized his bandmate on a public sidewalk with a single act of charity.
The manager didn’t say a word, just glanced at them through the rearview mirror once again before starting the engine. The radio was off. The hum of traffic outside filled the void.
Taiga stared out the window, trying to get his pulse back to normal.
His fingers fidgeted with the hem of the jacket. Hokuto’s jacket, like it might offer answers. Or oxygen. Or maybe just a decent explanation for why he could still feel the ghost of Hokuto’s hand on his shoulder. Why the simple words “You’re cold” kept playing on repeat in his head like some tragically soft ballad.
Beside him, Hokuto lounged like a man who hadn't just committed emotional terrorism.
Relaxed. Legs spread obnoxiously wide. Scrolling through his phone like the world wasn’t combusting around them. Like he hadn’t just set the group chat, the fanbase, and possibly Taiga’s brain on fire.
The silence between them wasn’t hostile, it just... loaded.
Unspoken things floated in the air like static.
Words hovered on the edge of their tongues, unsaid only because their manager was right there, driving in dead silence, probably rethinking every life decision that led him to babysitting emotionally repressed idols.
Halfway through the ride, Taiga cracked. Just a little.
He turned to Hokuto, voice barely above a whisper. “You didn’t have to commit that hard to the bit.”
Hokuto didn’t even look up. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
Taiga blinked. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly.”
“Your jacket is still on me.”
“Because you’re still cold.”
Taiga opened his mouth. Closed it. Tried again.
Failed.
The manager cleared his throat, quietly but pointedly.
They both straightened like scolded schoolboys.
Neither spoke for the rest of the ride.
When they arrived at the agency, the manager didn’t wait for any part-way goodbyes. He simply muttered, “Good luck,” and drove off the moment they shut the van doors. Presumably, to enjoy five minutes of peace and reconsider his contract. Especially in managing a group full of chaos.
Taiga stood there in the cold, jacket still on, brain full of fog, and Hokuto next to him like a walking contradiction.
"...Good luck with what?" Taiga muttered under his breath.
Hokuto smiled, infuriatingly gentle. Like he knew exactly what it meant.
“You’ll see.”
Taiga headed home an hour after parting ways with Hokuto at the agency.
Hokuto, of course, left like he hadn’t just emotionally dropkicked Taiga on a sidewalk in broad daylight.
Meanwhile, Taiga sat in the agency break room like a ghost of himself, trying to gather the remains of his dignity. Or sanity. Or both.
By the time he made it back to his apartment, it was already dark.
He collapsed onto the couch, still wearing Hokuto’s jacket.
He should have returned it.
But he didn’t.
He didn’t want to.
Taiga buried his face in the collar and took a breath.
“Stupid fake boyfriend smell,” he muttered.
“Stupid real feelings.”
He let out a fake laugh that sounded a little too real.
The jacket, unfortunately, smelled amazing. Like expensive cologne, laundry detergent, and something annoyingly like Hokuto. Warm, familiar, and annoyingly comforting in a way that made Taiga want to scream into a pillow.
He tugged it tighter around himself. Just to be warm. Not for emotional support or anything.
This was fine. Everything was fine.
Except for the part where he was fake-dating his bandmate and maybe, accidentally, inconveniently, horrifyingly falling in love for real.
Which was not fine.
Not even a little bit.
Hokuto had gotten home earlier, but he hadn’t moved from his spot on the bed.
He was still sitting there, eyes glued to his phone.
He scrolled through fan edits again. This time, someone had slowed the moment he placed his jacket on Taiga, overlayed with dramatic piano music and the caption:
“PROTECT HIM AT ALL COSTS”
He didn’t mean to save it.
But he did.
Accidentally.
On purpose.
Whatever.
He stared at the thumbnail in his gallery for a moment too long before tossing his phone aside like it betrayed him.
He shouldn’t have done that jacket thing. It was reckless. Dangerous. Public.
But Taiga had been shivering.
And Hokuto was only a human. A man with a jacket. And a stupid heart.
He collapsed backwards onto the bed and dragged a pillow over his face.
“Stupid Taiga,” he mumbled into the pillow.
“Stupid cold weather.”
He knew the internet would be in flames by now. Their clips would be all over Twitter. Probably trending. Maybe globally.
He was very aware of the chaos they’d caused.
But none of that stuck with him. Not the cameras. Not the comments. Not even the fan edits.
But what stuck with him most was the look Taiga gave him.
Not performance. It wasn’t part of the act.
Just... honest.
Real.
Way too real.
SixTONES Group Chat
[Jesse]:
I want what they have.
[Shintaro]:
You just want an excuse to give Kochi your jacket.
[Jesse]:
Maybe I do???
[Kochi]:
Try it and I set it on fire.
[Juri]:
PLEASE confess already. So we can focus on the other idiots.
[Taiga]:
Do I return the jacket or set it on fire?
[Hokuto]:
You looked good in it.
[Taiga]:
…Shut up
[Juri]:
OH ???
[Shintaro]:
Screenshotting for historical purposes
[Kochi]:
That’s it, I’m scheduling a group intervention, “How to Pretend You’re Not In Love (Terribly)”
[Jesse]:
Title’s too long. We can just call it “KyomoHoku: The Disaster Era”
By the time Taiga finally settled down from the chaos of the last incident, he thought maybe the agency had decided not to stir the pot again. Maybe they’d let things breathe. Maybe they’d move on.
But then again, after all these years, Taiga still wasn’t sure if he understood how the agency’s brain worked. Or if it had one. Because they never had. Whatever.
After all, a few weeks later, they were scheduled for a rooftop interview shoot.
Golden hour lighting. Casual styling. Soft smiles.
The goal?
“Couple intimacy without PDA.” – which was definitely a LIE.
Translation: Sit really close and look like you’re madly in love.
Which was fine. Really.
Too fine. Too easy.
Taiga sat stiffly on the picnic mat they set up, shoulder-to-shoulder with Hokuto, sipping lukewarm canned coffee and praying his hands didn’t shake or accidentally brush against anything fatal, like Hokuto’s knee.
Then, Hokuto leaned in and whispered, lips dangerously close, “Smile softer. You’re scowling.”
Taiga didn’t turn. He muttered back through gritted teeth, “I am soft. I’m the softest .”
“Tell your face.”
Taiga elbowed him. Hokuto smirked. The camera clicked.
The camera crew started shifting angles.
“Let’s try one where Hokuto lies down, and Taiga leans over him. Like you’re mid-laugh, but also in love,” the director said, way too casually for how hard Taiga’s heart dropped.
“Got it,” Hokuto said, already lowering himself onto the mat.
Taiga hesitated. “That’s not casual intimacy, that’s... That’s a full-blown drama scene.”
“You can be dramatic and in love,” Hokuto said, grinning, one hand tucked behind his head like it was nothing.
Cursing under his breath, Taiga leaned over him. Too close. Way too close. His palm pressed to the mat beside Hokuto’s shoulder for balance, and Hokuto looked up at him like this was a completely normal thing in the world.
It wasn’t.
“Laugh!” the director called cheerfully.
Hokuto grinned up at him. “You’re scowling again.”
“I am laughing,” Taiga whispered. “On the inside.”
Then, without thinking, Hokuto reached up and brushed a strand of hair from Taiga’s face. Slow, careful. Not for the camera. Not for anyone. Just … instinct.
Taiga’s breath hitched.
Click.
Click.
Click.
“Perfect. That’s great. Okay, let’s move on to the solo shots for now,” the director called out.
Taiga snapped back to reality and quickly pushed himself upright. Hokuto just shrugged, completely unbothered. As if that hadn’t just happened.
Their manager, who’d been watching silently from the edge of the set, smiled to himself. Then casually tapped his phone and sent out the preview shots.
Within minutes, the group chat exploded. Their members wouldn’t shut up.
SixTONES Group Chat
[Jesse]:
Rooftop shoot: ✨ boyfriend vibes ✨
[Shintaro]:
Y’all were doing it like it’s the final episode of a BL drama. I was waiting for the confession scene.
[Kochi]:
TAIGA’S EYES WERE SCREAMING!! Like screaming "kiss me"
[Taiga]:
MY EYES WERE CLOSED??
[Juri]:
Exactly. Closed to the world. Your heart was open tho 💅🏻
[Taiga]:
I HATE YOU.
[Hokuto]:
He’s cute when he panics.
[Taiga]:
STOP SAYING THINGS THAT SOUND REAL
The shoot finally wrapped up after a while. The crew busied themselves packing up the equipment, while the director and manager stood in quiet discussion, reviewing the shots.
Somehow, Taiga and Hokuto found themselves drifting toward the edge of the rooftop.
The Tokyo skyline blinked back at them. Wind in their hair. Hokuto’s arm just barely brushing Taiga’s.
“You know,” Taiga started, staring ahead, “this is the part where they zoom in and subtitle it with ‘Kyomoto’s eyes say it all. ’”
Hokuto didn’t laugh. His voice came softer. “And what do they say?”
Taiga turned to look at him. “I have no idea anymore.”
Hokuto didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he reached out and tugged gently at the hem of Taiga’s sleeve.
“Hey.”
“What.”
“If this wasn’t fake… would it be that bad?” Hokuto asked.
Taiga froze.
Heart pounding. Head spinning. The rooftop suddenly felt too quiet.
“...What do you mean?”
Hokuto smiled softly. The kind Taiga hated because it made him feel too much.
“Just wondering.”
The wind picked up, ruffling Taiga’s hair. Or maybe that was just an excuse to look away.
Because if he looked too long, he might say something real.
And they weren’t allowed to be real.
“That’s a dangerous question,” Taiga muttered.
Hokuto hummed. “You didn’t say no.”
Taiga turned to him, eyes sharp. “You didn’t say yes .”
For a moment, neither of them said anything. The city stretched out before them, full of noise and lights, but up here it felt quiet. Too quiet.
Then Hokuto leaned in, just slightly. Barely enough to close the space between them.
Enough for Taiga to feel the warmth. To feel him.
And in a voice softer than the wind, he said, “You’re shaking.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Taiga pulled his sleeve back gently, breaking the touch. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Don’t act like you care when we’re off-camera.”
Hokuto looked like he’d been slapped. Just for a second.
Then he nodded slowly, stepped back.
“Right,” he said. “Back to the script.”
And he stepped away.
And Taiga didn’t stop him. Even though part of him wanted to.
So badly.
That night, Taiga couldn’t sleep.
He was wearing Hokuto’s jacket again. At this rate, it was becoming a habit.
Whether it confused him more or brought him comfort, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t even know which struggle he wanted to choose.
His eyes stayed wide open. He blinked. Shifted to his side.
Stared at his phone. Didn’t text. Didn’t call. Just stared.
But his mind wouldn’t stop. Wouldn’t stop replaying everything,
every glance,
every laugh,
every brush of fingers that didn’t feel like acting anymore.
“Stupid Hokuto,” he muttered, burying his face into his pillow.
Meanwhile, Hokuto lay in bed, eyes fixed on the Tokyo skyline outside his window.
The lights blurred slightly in his vision. Not from sleep. Not from anything he could explain.
He whispered to no one,
“It’s already not fake… is it?”
Somewhere deep down, he knew the PR stunts had already blurred the lines.
Whether it was just the feelings, or something else entirely.
He couldn’t tell anymore.
And maybe, he didn’t want to.
After the rooftop shoot, the magazine they starred in sold out in almost every corner of the city.
With all the buzz, the scandal about Hokuto dating the new actress began to fade into the background.
Now, it was all about them .
As the photoshoot gained traction and spiked in popularity, the duo was invited to yet another shoot in the following weeks.
The concept was simple:
A photoshoot.
Soft lighting. Cozy outfits.
Carefully staged intimacy.
The director’s words?
“Act like it’s the first time you realized you’re in love.”
Taiga felt his breath catch.
That line should’ve been easy to play. It was a job. They had done worse.
But this time, Hokuto was looking at him like the cameras weren’t there.
Like he meant it.
Taiga looked away too fast, too suddenly.
The assistant stepped forward, grinning.
“Can we get makeup to powder Kyomoto’s ears? They’re... red.”
Laughter rippled across the set, light-hearted.
But inside, Taiga’s pulse thundered.
And Hokuto?
Hokuto tried not to smile. Tried not to let it show that he’d noticed before anyone else.
That the flush had started the second their eyes met.
After the concept briefing, they were ushered off to change and have their makeup done.
The outfits screamed soulmates who’ve been married for years.
Hokuto wore a soft beige oversized sweater which was too warm, too comfortable to be safe.
Taiga’s pastel hoodie had a wide collar that kept slipping, revealing the edge of his collarbone. He kept trying to tug it back up, but the stylist swatted his hand away.
“Because you’re pretty in this,” she said.
That earned him another blush. He tried to play it off with a straight face and a flat, “No way,” before laughing. Hopefully it didn’t sound fake.
Beside him, Hokuto chatted easily with the stylist, flashing that same charming smile that made people forget what they were saying. Typical Hokuto.
People kept talking to them, asking questions, making small talk and they answered like it was nothing. Neither of them let it show that there was something else in the air between them. Something unresolved.
“All done!” the makeup artist announced. “Oh my god, you two are literally perfect for each other. So lovely!”
They both smiled like they’d heard it a thousand times. Inside, their hearts were loud enough to drown out the noise of the room.
The crew had just finished setting up.
It looked like something pulled straight out of a cozy drama scene, the kind you’d watch on a rainy night.
A couch far too small for two people to sit without touching.
A blanket draped lazily over the back, like it had been there for years.
Beside it, a reading lamp glowing gold, soft and warm, making every shadow feel closer.
The air seemed quieter here. Too quiet. Like the set itself was waiting for them to break the silence.
Taiga swallowed hard. It should’ve been easy. Just another job. Just another pose. They’d done more than this before. But the problem wasn’t the scene.
It was the fact that on a couch this small, under this kind of light, there was no way to pretend the closeness was only acting.
Hokuto swallowed hard. He could feel how tense Taiga was beside him. And it would be a lie to say his own heart hadn’t skipped a beat too.
They’d done countless shoots before. Solo frames, duo shots, even close-ups that left no space between them.
All of those had been bearable. Manageable.
But this… This felt different. Today had that dangerous edge, like something unspoken had slipped into the air between them. Something he might have already recognized, but wasn’t ready to admit.
“Okay, let’s start simple,” the director called. “Matsumura-san, sit on the couch, reading a book. Kyomoto-san, you sit on the carpet, headphones on. Lean as close as possible, like you’re spending a cozy day at home together.”
They both nodded, taking the props from the crew.
Hokuto sat first, settling in with the book open in his hands, eyes lowered like he was lost in the pages. Taiga followed, sitting close, close enough for the camera, but hopefully not close enough to give him away.
Click. Click. Click. The camera flashed.
“Alright,” the director continued, “Kyomoto-san, lean your head on Matsumura-san’s thigh, like you’ve drifted off listening to music. Matsumura-san, keep the book open, but look at him like you’ve just realized you’re in love.”
Taiga’s heartbeat thundered in his chest. Still, he leaned in, resting his head carefully on Hokuto’s leg.
Hokuto shifted almost subtly, adjusting so Taiga could be comfortable. The small movement sent a sharp jolt straight to Taiga’s chest.
“Perfect,” the director said.
Click. Click. Click. The shutter kept firing, as if one shot would never be enough.
“Okay, Kyomoto-san, now sit beside Matsumura-san on the couch. Let’s get that shot first.”
Taiga nodded, but there was a flicker of hesitation. Hokuto noticed and subtly shifted, making just enough space for him.
Taiga took a slow breath and sat down. Too close. He could feel Hokuto. The warmth, the realness and had to snap himself out of it, reminding himself this was work. Just work.
Click. Click. Click. The camera captured the moment.
“Alright, crew, take the headphones and book. Moving to the next scene,” the director called.
As the props were whisked away, an invisible shift filled the air. Without them, it suddenly felt harder to breathe.
Now came the real chaos.
They were told to sit close. Closer.
“Lean into him a little, Matsumura-san. Like you’re realizing something.” the director said. “Put your hand on his chest, Kyomoto-san. Just there, right over the heart.”
Taiga slowly put his hand on Hokuto's chest. His fingers brushed against the fabric of Hokuto’s sweater. Soft wool.
And beneath it, a heartbeat. Steady. Real.
The moment held. Too long.
No one said "cut." The camera kept clicking non-stop.
Then the words dropped like a stone in still water.
“Let’s do one with a kiss.”
Everything stopped. The crew froze mid-step.
Taiga forgot to breathe.
Hokuto didn’t move, didn’t even blink.
“A light one,” the director clarified, as if that made it easier. “Forehead or cheek. Something the fans will scream over.”
It didn’t make it easier.
“You’re not serious,” Taiga said, the laugh that escaped sounding too thin, too nervous.
“Come on, it’s fine,” the director replied. “Just acting. Do whatever feels comfortable.”
Comfortable? With Hokuto sitting this close?
With With Hokuto’s heartbeat right under Taiga’s hand? Impossible.
Taiga hesitated. Hokuto didn’t move.
They nodded but not at the same time. The beat was off, just enough to feel like the air between them thickened, dense and warm, pulling them in and holding them there.
They leaned in.
Taiga’s aim was for Hokuto’s cheek.
Hokuto’s aim was for Taiga’s cheek.
They should’ve met halfway.
.........
They didn’t.
Somewhere in that closing distance, they misjudged…
and found each other’s lips instead.
Click. Flash.
The sound of the camera felt far away, like it was coming from another room.
Taiga’s mind went completely blank except for one loud, unshakable thought: This is not the cheek.
Every nerve in his body screamed at once, but none of them told him to move.
Hokuto didn’t jerk back either. He didn’t even stiffen.
He stayed right there, lips soft, still, warm against Taiga’s. Holding the connection like it was a thread that might snap if he shifted too soon.
Taiga’s hand was still resting against Hokuto’s chest. Through the plush wool of the sweater, he could feel the heartbeat beneath.
It wasn’t steady anymore. It stumbled. Skipped. Matched Taiga’s own.
Hokuto’s scent was faint but unavoidable. Clean laundry, something citrus, and a trace of cologne that was warm and subtle. It wrapped around Taiga in the way scent sometimes does, seeping in before you realize it’s there.
A shallow breath escaped Hokuto, brushing warm across Taiga’s skin. The sound of it was too close, too intimate.
Then slowly, Hokuto moved. Not pulling back, but forward. Just slightly. Just enough to make it clear this wasn’t a mistake he was rushing to fix.
Taiga’s chest tightened. His lips parted without thought, almost an instinct and that was all it took.
Hokuto’s lips followed the shift, catching the small movement like he’d been waiting for it. It was still gentle. Still barely there. But now, deliberate.
The faint brush of lips became a second, softer touch, lips pressing in a way that was careful like Hokuto was asking something without words.
Taiga’s fingers curled in the fabric of Hokuto’s sweater, a tiny, grounding anchor against the dizzying weightlessness in his chest.
The room was too quiet. No one spoke. No one dared to move.
The camera kept clicking, each flash slicing through the dim golden light, but even that felt quieter than the sound of Taiga swallowing.
His pulse was in his ears. In his throat. Under his fingertips.
Hokuto tilted his head the smallest bit, deepening the contact in a way that wasn’t hungry but impossible to mistake for an accident.
Taiga’s breath caught. But then he kissed back. Just enough to answer. Just enough to admit, without words, that he wasn’t pulling away.
Fabric shifted softly between them. The couch creaked. Somewhere far off, a crew member exhaled like they’d been holding their breath too.
And still, no one called “cut.”
When they finally drew apart, it was slow. Painfully slow, like gravity itself was reluctant to let them go. The space between them was small, charged, too fragile for sudden movement.
Taiga’s lips were still tingling. His breathing was uneven, too loud in his own ears. His eyes were wide, searching Hokuto’s face for something. An explanation, a denial, anything and found Hokuto already looking back.
“…Was that… supposed to happen?” Taiga asked, voice low, almost shaky.
Hokuto didn’t answer. But he didn’t look away either.
And Taiga knew, without question, that neither of them would be able to pretend it hadn’t.
The sharp clap of the director’s hands shattered the moment.
“Perfect! That’s the one!” he said, calm as if they’d just nailed a scripted moment. “Mark this. That’s a wrap on this scene.”
Just like that, the crew moved again, bustling as if nothing unusual had happened. Props were gathered, lighting adjusted, conversations resumed.
They carefully pulled back from each other, creating space without meeting eyes. Somehow, no one around them seemed to care, like the kiss was the most normal thing in the world. To the crew, maybe it was just a couple who’d gotten carried away, leaning into the “shy lovers” concept for the fans’ benefit. Or maybe it was playful, one of those teasing moments fans would scream over. After all, KyomoHoku had always been the “perfect couple” everyone rooted for. If anyone suspected otherwise, they weren’t saying it.
They remained on the couch, now sitting upright but still side by side on the couch, still close enough to feel each other’s warmth. The air between them hummed.
Hokuto turned slightly toward Taiga, who still looked like he was processing every second of what had just happened.
“Taiga…” Hokuto’s voice was quiet.
“Don’t.” Taiga cut him off before he could say more, eyes fixed straight ahead.
“We should talk,” Hokuto said anyway, unshaken.
“Yeah,” Taiga said after a pause. “We should. Later. Maybe.” His tone was uncertain, like he was holding something back. But he didn’t move away. Didn’t look at Hokuto.
Hokuto swallowed hard. His throat burned, whether from the words he wasn’t saying or the urge to say too much, he couldn’t tell.
“Kyomoto-san, Matsumura-san. Let’s change into the next outfits,” the director called, approaching. “We’ll do some solo shots before we wrap for today.”
Taiga nodded quickly, standing in one swift movement and walking toward the changing room without looking back.
Hokuto watched his retreating figure, sighed quietly, and forced a polite smile at the director. “I’ll be right there,” he said, earning a friendly tap on the shoulder. Around them, the crew bustled, preparing the next set.
From the corner of the set, their manager stood silently, watching the whole exchange with raised eyebrows and a knowing sigh. He didn’t say a word, just sent out the clip.
A second later, every member’s phone buzzed.
And the group chat exploded.
SixTONES Group Chat
[Jesse]:
HELLOOOO????
EXPLAIN. YOURSELVES.
[Kochi]:
I THOUGHT THIS WAS A PHOTOSHOOT, NOT A CONFESSION VIDEO ?!
[Shintaro]:
Did you two just… ACCIDENTALLY kiss???
Like. Actually kiss. On the lips. Not a cheek. Not the forehead.
[Juri]:
That was a kiss with FEELING. How do you miss a cheek and land a full kiss??
[Taiga]:
Can you all STOP!
[Jesse]:
WE WILL BE DISCUSSING THIS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.
[Hokuto]:
We missed , okay? It was acting. Method acting. Stop making this a big deal.
[Kochi]:
You “method acted” your lips straight into his soul????
[Juri]:
The director literally said “Perfect” like he’d just witnessed an Oscar-winning scene. He didn’t even yell CUT
[Shintaro]:
Does this mean I won the bet?? Because I SAID something was gonna happen during filming. And y’all laughed. Now LOOK!
[Jesse]:
I feel like I just witnessed a secret wedding. And nobody invited me. I demand compensation!
[Taiga]:
I’m blocking all of you. No, actually, I’m kicking you all from my life. For real, I'm leaving this group.
[Jesse]:
You can leave, but the kiss lives forever.
Taiga stared at his phone, jaw tight. Frustration churned under his skin. His thumb hovered over the screen without moving.
He needed to act normal. Anything else would raise suspicion about their so-called relationship. The one that was supposed to be purely for PR.
This was work. That’s all. It was meant to protect the group. He’d told himself that a hundred times already. And surely Hokuto saw it the same way.
Definitely.
Since it was time for solo shots, they managed to avoid each other. That was good.
Necessary.
They just had to make it look like everything was fine, like the earlier scene had been nothing unusual.
They only interacted when the director asked. Just for the job. They were professionals. They’d been idols for over a decade. They could handle this.
When the photoshoot finally wrapped, both of them were quietly relieved. But that conversation, the one they’d promised to have… never came.
Not a word passed between them beyond what the job required.
They thanked the crew, smiled at the director, and laughed at his praise when he said he hoped to work with them again.
The laughter didn’t reach their eyes. Inside, each of them was holding a storm that refused to settle.
They changed in silence. Walked off set separately.
And somehow still ended up side by side, waiting for the van.
The faint scent of Hokuto’s cologne drifted over, the same one Taiga had noticed earlier, closer. And he forced himself not to shift away.
Their manager was still deep in conversation with the director, apparently forgetting he had the keys. And leaving the two of them stranded there like two wires sparking too close together.
No one spoke. No one dared to. They waited silently.
When the manager finally returned, he unlocked the van without comment and slid into the driver’s seat. They climbed in silently.
In the van, Taiga slid into the seat by the window. Hokuto took the one behind him.
They both pulled out their phones.
Mindless scrolling. Tapping on things just to have something to do. Neither of them were really looking at the screen.
Taiga locked and unlocked his phone. Once. Twice. Three times.
He caught the faintest sound behind him. The shift of fabric, a quiet inhale and swallowing before he could think about why it mattered.
Hokuto opened his chat with Taiga, typed something. But then erased it.
Their manager drove in silence, glancing at them in the mirror.
He didn’t say a word. Just sighed softly, rubbing his temple.
He’d seen them banter. Fight. Laugh. Act like idiots. Be close.
But he’d never seen this.
Not this kind of silence.
So he let it be.
That night, Taiga curled into Hokuto’s jacket like it could shield him from his own thoughts. The faint scent clung to the fabric. Warm, clean, and so unmistakably like Hokuto, it made Taiga’s chest ache.
He curled into it, pressing his face into the collar until the scent filled every breath. It should’ve been harmless. Just part of the job. Just another pose from the set.
But it wasn’t.
The memory came back in full, uninvited:
The soft give of Hokuto’s lips under his. The sudden stillness in the room.
The way Hokuto leaned in, not away.
Taiga’s stomach tightened. He told himself it was just acting. He told himself they’d both been caught in the moment. That it meant nothing.
But the part of him that kept replaying it.
Over and over, slower each time. Knew that was a lie.
And in the quiet of his room, to no one but the fabric against his lips, he whispered,
“Why’d you have to kiss me like you meant it?”
The silence that followed didn’t answer him.
But the ache did.
Hokuto couldn’t sleep.
He’d showered twice, letting the water run hot enough to sting and his hair damp against his forehead, hoping it would wash away the heat still clinging to his skin. It clung stubbornly, like a second skin he couldn’t peel off. It didn’t go away. If anything, it made him remember more. How close they’d been, how easy it was to forget they weren’t supposed to be.
His phone rested beside him on the mattress, screen dark. He hadn’t texted Taiga, because he didn’t dare.
Instead, he stared at the ceiling and let the scene play out again in his head, every detail refusing to blur.
Not the director’s voice saying, “Perfect. That’s the one.”
Not the manager sighing as he watched them sulk in the van.
Just Taiga.
The weight of Taiga’s palm against his chest.
The uneven catch in his breathing.
The split second when their lips met and the whole world seemed to tilt.
And then, the way Taiga didn’t move.
The way his lips parted, almost like an answer.
The way his eyes looked afterward. Wide, unguarded, like he was afraid of something that might be real.
Hokuto turned onto his side, gripping his pillow tighter until his knuckles ached. It didn’t help. The moment stayed with him, stubborn and clear, like it was etched into the inside of his skull.
He reached for his phone, thumb hovering over Taiga’s name. He should text him. He should say something. He should —
The screen lit up.
A message from Jesse:
‘Bro. You good?’
He stared at it for a full minute. Then turned the phone face-down.
And whispered into the dark, to no one but himself,
“I don’t know.”
The kiss had been filmed, wrapped, and buried in the pile of “just work” moments Taiga swore he’d never think about again.
But two days later, it came back to life.
No warning.
No teaser.
Just a 30 seconds clip uploaded to their group’s YouTube channel, the title sitting there like it knew exactly what it was doing:
“KyomoHoku: A Glimpse of Something Real?”
Taiga almost didn’t click it.
Almost.
He should’ve known better. The moment the video played, he wanted to jump straight out of his apartment window.
The video played like a trap. A warm lighting, soft background music, their laughter in the first few seconds, right before cutting to the moment.
That moment . The moment that sent a storm through Taiga’s head and heart.
The camera angle was perfect. Too perfect.
Close enough to catch the way Taiga’s hand curled in Hokuto’s sweater. Slow enough to show that neither of them pulled away immediately.
Taiga’s chest tightened. He knew better than anyone.
It wasn’t acting anymore, not in that edit.
It was a confession, in high definition.
Within an hour, the clip hit a million views. The like count skyrocketed, comments flooding in faster than he could scroll. If the like button had feelings, it would’ve been begging for mercy.
By the second hour, fan edits flooded every platform. Clips replayed in slow motion. Overlays with romantic music. Side-by-side videos comparing the “fake” KyomoHoku moments versus this one, captions screaming about how the chemistry had never been this real before.
Tweets poured in from every time zone, in every language. Even fans who had never shipped them were screaming.
Because this wasn’t just a clip, it was an event. The kind fans waited years for. Gold moments that they'd been begging for years.
The video kept looping on Taiga’s screen until it felt like slow motion burned into his brain. Every movement, every glance, the exact weight of Hokuto’s lips… it all came rushing back, the tingling sensation making his skin crawl in panic. He nearly threw his phone at the wall.
It wasn’t like watching himself on TV.
It wasn’t like seeing his own drama scenes or musical performances.
It was like watching a stranger, someone exposed .
Someone whose eyes gave away far too much.
And that someone was Kyomoto Taiga.
His chest felt tight. Suffocated.
He messaged his manager to cancel his next schedule. Thankfully, it could be moved to another day. He could tell his manager was annoyed, maybe even ready to scold him, but in the end, the man just let him go.
Taiga locked off his phone. Didn’t tell the other members. Locked himself inside his apartment and vanished.
And worst of all?
Hokuto didn’t call.
Didn’t text.
Didn’t show up.
Like he’d kissed him, wrecked him, and disappeared.
And Taiga didn’t know what hurt more,
the silence…
or the fact that he was starting to believe the kiss meant nothing to Hokuto after all.
Taiga felt his world crumble. His overthinking was eating him alive again.
His phone vibrated, but he didn’t have the energy to check who was calling. It would either be Kochi or Juri.
He didn’t even know what he would tell the members.
He felt complicated. Exposed. But at the same time, they were the only ones he could lean on… even if “the members” included Hokuto.
The thought of him made Taiga’s chest tighten. It stung like in that quiet, persistent way a wound does when it’s nowhere near healing.
But he told himself it wasn’t anyone’s fault. Not really.
If blame had to be placed, it should fall squarely on him. He should have guarded his feelings better. He should have been professional.
Taiga curled deeper into his blanket, cocooning himself like it might block the outside world. His stomach gave a small, complaining growl. He ignored it.
He couldn’t even bring himself to eat. He hadn’t eaten properly in days. Not because he wanted to starve himself, but because every ordinary thing reminded him of that kiss.
The phone buzzed again. And again. This time, it was rapid. Notification after notification.
By now, the members had probably realized he’d gone off the radar… or the manager had told them to check in on him.
With a tired sigh, Taiga reached for his phone and opened the group chat.
SixTONES Group Chat
[Jesse]:
Has anyone talked to Hoku?
[Shintaro]:
No replies since then.
[Kochi]:
Taiga’s also MIA. Are they both dead? Did they elope?
[Juri]:
They kissed and vanished. We’re in a BL drama and I didn’t even get a script.
[Taiga]:
I’M HERE
[Jesse]:
OH THANK GOD. Do not ghost us like that again.
[Jesse]:
Where’s Hokuto?
[Taiga]:
… I don’t know. I haven’t heard from him either.
[Kochi]:
Wait, you two haven’t talked? Since that kiss??
[Juri]:
BRO
[Shintaro]:
Taiga. That kiss was cinematic .
[Jesse]:
It had perfect lighting . And feelings.
[Taiga]:
CAN YOU ALL NOT—
I’m seriously losing my mind here. I don’t know anymore. What is what anymore.
[Shintaro]:
It was hot, that’s what
[Taiga]:
NOT HELPING. AT ALL.
[Jesse]:
Well figure it out fast, because fans already decided you’re soulmates.
[Kochi]:
And we’re the supporting cast in your love story, apparently.
[Shintaro]:
Petition to change the group name to KissTONES.
[Taiga]:
I’m leaving this chat. No, I’m leaving this group! Again! And again!
Taiga stared at the screen, the flood of messages still open in front of him.
The teasing had been relentless. Exactly what he’d expect from them.
Normally, it would’ve made him roll his eyes and fire back twice as hard. But tonight, it just made the ache sharper.
Like they were laughing about something he couldn’t laugh about yet.
With a sigh, he muted the chat. The notifications disappeared, leaving his apartment quiet again. Too quiet.
He sank deeper into his blanket, pressing his phone against his chest.
No new messages. Not from Hokuto. Not even a missed call.
Did Hokuto mean to kiss him like that?
Why hadn’t he said anything since? Did it ruin everything?
The silence was louder than any confession.
And Taiga couldn’t decide which was worse...
Hokuto’s absence, or the way part of him was still hoping for that phone to light up.
Taiga’s phone lay face-down on the bed, vibrating occasionally. Messages piling up, most of them from the group chat he’d just escaped. He pulled his blanket tighter around himself, willing his brain to stop replaying the kiss in slow motion.
Somewhere in the city, someone probably just rewatched the clip for the hundredth time, slowed it down, dissecting every microexpression. And here he was, suffocating under the weight of something he wasn’t even supposed to feel.
He cocooned himself deeper, knees tucked to his chest. The air in his apartment felt heavy, pressing in from all sides. It was easier to hide like this, in the dark, than to face the truth clawing at him:
He didn’t know where Hokuto was. And Hokuto didn’t seem to be looking for him.
Meanwhile, outside Taiga’s apartment building, Hokuto stood in the same spot he’d been for the past two nights.
The same streetlamp buzzing overhead, casting him in a dim yellow haze.
Same hour, when the world felt too still for comfort.
He didn’t ring the doorbell. Didn’t call up. Didn’t text.
He’d read the group chat earlier, thumb hovering over the keyboard more times than he’d admit, but never pressing send. Instead, he just… stayed there. Like a ghost haunting his own regrets.
His gaze kept drifting to the window where Taiga’s light sometimes flickered on, then off.
Wondering if Taiga was awake.
If he was hurting.
If he hated him now.
Hokuto’s hands stayed buried in his pockets, fingers curling into empty fists. His heart beat with all the words he hadn’t said. Apologies, explanations, things he didn’t even have names for yet.
He’d showered twice before coming here, as if he could wash off the heat from that moment when he watched the video clip again and again. But it clung to him, stubborn as the memory of Taiga’s breath trembling against his lips.
He wasn’t ready. Not to explain. Not to admit.
But he couldn’t stay away either.
Inside, Taiga stared at the faint glow of his phone through the blanket.
Outside, Hokuto stared up at the faint glow of Taiga’s window.
Both waiting for the other to break the silence. Both pretending they weren’t.
And in the space between them, the night stretched long and unrelenting.
When Jesse cornered Hokuto at the studio the next day, it was chaos.
“You kissed him.”
Hokuto didn’t even look up from the makeup chair, eyes fixed on the mirror like it might give him an escape.
“It was for the shoot.”
Jesse folded his arms, leaning just far enough into Hokuto’s space to be annoying.
“You kissed him like you’d been waiting years.”
There was a pause. A beat too long.
Long enough for Jesse’s smirk to fade into something sharper.
“…Maybe I had,” Hokuto muttered at last, voice low.
Jesse blinked, lips parting slightly. He hadn’t expected that much honesty.
“So why the hell are you avoiding him?”
Hokuto’s fingers tightened around his coffee cup, the cardboard crinkling under his grip. Because he’d already been there.
Standing outside Taiga’s apartment for two nights in a row, staring at a window that stayed dark, holding back words that felt too dangerous to speak.
“Because now it’s real.”
Jesse stared. “You want him. He wants you. That’s the plot twist everyone’s rooting for. What are you so scared of?”
Hokuto’s gaze dropped to the floor, jaw tightening. His reflection in the mirror looked like someone he barely recognized.
He didn’t answer.
Later that night, Taiga almost didn’t answer the knock. He wasn’t expecting anyone. He wasn’t expecting him .
What he didn’t know was that, minutes earlier, Hokuto had been standing right there.
Scarf in hand, note in pocket. Heart pounding like he’d run a marathon when all he’d done was climb a few flights of stairs.
He’d told himself he’d ring the bell.
He’d told himself he’d look Taiga in the eye and say it, to say everything.
But when he reached the door, all the words got stuck in his throat.
So he folded the scarf into a box, set it gently on the mat, and slipped the note underneath.
One last glance at the door.
One last wish he was braver.
Then he turned and walked away, leaving the hallway silent again.
When Taiga pulled the door open, there was no one there, just that single item on the floor.
Hokuto’s scarf. Folded so neatly it almost hurt.
For a moment, Taiga just stared at it before picking it up. It still smelled faintly like Hokuto. Warm wool, soap, and something he couldn’t name but knew too well.
Beneath the scarf was a slip of paper, creased like it had been folded and unfolded a hundred times.
The handwriting was messy, rushed, as if the words had been wrestled onto the page:
I didn’t know how to say it,
but I think I meant it.
All of it.
Even the first time you wore my hoodie.
Taiga’s hands trembled.
The laugh that bubbled up caught in his throat, breaking halfway into something dangerously close to a sob.
Of course Hokuto would confess like this. Not in person, not over the phone, but in an almost-secret left behind like a breadcrumb.
And yet, standing there in the doorway, scarf pressed to his chest, Taiga realized it was exactly what he needed.
A crack in the silence. Proof that it hadn’t been nothing after all.
He shut the door slowly, as if moving too fast might break the moment. The apartment felt smaller now, the quiet pressing in from every corner.
He sank onto the couch, scarf still clutched in his hands, the note lying on the coffee table like it might vanish if he looked away too long. Every time his eyes skimmed the words, his chest tightened.
I think I meant it.
It wasn’t much. It wasn’t enough to answer the questions still clawing at him. But it was something.
And that was dangerous because something was enough to keep him hoping.
Taiga curled into himself, scarf pulled close, breathing in that scent he’d never been able to forget. Every inhale dragged him back to the set, to that kiss, to the seconds afterward when the world had felt too sharp and too warm all at once.
He picked up his phone, thumb hovering over the screen.
Should he tell the others?
His members had always been home for him. Loud, chaotic, sometimes exhausting, but home all the same.
And yet… bringing this to them would only spark more chaos, more teasing, more headaches he wasn’t sure he could handle right now.
Still, the need for connection tugged at him.
Before he could second-guess himself, he opened the group chat and started typing.
SixTONES Group Chat
[Taiga]:
GUYS
[Juri]:
You okay, Taiga?
[Taiga]:
He left me a note
[Kochi]:
What did it say?
[Taiga]:
It said he meant it. All of it.
[Jesse]:
GO TO HIM. RIGHT NOW. I’LL CALL A TAXI MYSELF.
[Shintaro]:
JUMP INTO HIS ARMS. MAKE IT LIKES DRAMA.
[Juri]:
Please don’t trip and die. We still have schedules to attend.
[Taiga]:
…I’ll text him
[Hokuto]:
You don’t have to. I'm at your door.
Taiga froze, staring at the screen like it had betrayed him. His breath caught somewhere between his chest and throat, heavy and shallow.
A knock followed. Three times. Soft. Almost hesitant.
For a long second, Taiga didn’t move. His hand hovered above the doorknob, trembling. On the other side of this thin barrier was Hokuto. The man who left. The man who came back. The man who had always been too close and too far at the same time.
Another knock.
“Taiga,” came the voice. Quiet, careful, but enough to split him wide open.
Truth hurts. But so did holding back.
Taiga’s heart slammed against his ribs. He turned the knob.
Taiga opened the door slowly, the hinges creaking like they, too, were bracing for what was about to happen.
There, standing in the dimly lit hallway with messy hair and a storm raging in his eyes, was Hokuto.
No mask. No sunglasses. Just him.
And he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His shoulders were tense, his breaths uneven, like he had run through every excuse not to be here, and still ended up at Taiga’s door anyway.
“Hey,” Hokuto said, voice hoarse, like it scraped against something fragile on the way out.
Taiga didn’t answer. He simply stepped aside, a silent invitation.
The moment Hokuto crossed the threshold, the air in the apartment thickened. The door clicked shut behind them, sealing them off from the rest of the world, as if it knew the weight of what needed to be said could only exist in this space.
“I saw the note,” Taiga said quietly, his words steady, but his chest felt like it was caving in.
Hokuto’s jaw clenched. His hands curled into fists at his sides before he forced them to relax. “I meant it,” he replied, low but certain.
Taiga’s gaze didn’t waver, though his throat was dry. “All of it?”
Hokuto didn’t hesitate. Not this time. His eyes, raw and unwavering, locked with Taiga’s.
“Every word,” he said. His voice cracked, but he pushed through it. “Every second. Every moment I wrote. Every feeling I’ve buried.”
Taiga could feel his chest tighten. An ache, or maybe just his heart beating too fast, too loud after hearing Hokuto’s words. His steps felt heavy as he walked toward the couch in the living room.
He lowered himself onto the edge of it. The same couch he’d once curled into, swallowed by Hokuto’s jacket, pretending none of it meant anything when, in truth, it had meant everything.
“So,” Taiga murmured, almost afraid of the answer, “all this time… it wasn’t fake to you?”
Hokuto’s answer was steady, though his eyes betrayed him.
“It was. In the beginning.”
The words cut through Taiga, sharp and clean. His heart dropped as his eyes searched Hokuto’s face, desperate. “When did it stop?”
Hokuto exhaled, the sound trembling between a laugh and a sigh, but with no trace of joy.
“Maybe when you yelled at me in the park and your whole face turned red… or maybe it was years ago. I don’t even know anymore.”
Taiga lowered his gaze to his hands, fingers curling tight, before forcing himself to meet Hokuto’s eyes again.
“Then why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because I was scared you didn’t feel the same.”
The silence stretched, too fragile to touch.
“And now?” Taiga asked, his voice cracking on the edges.
Hokuto’s voice wavered, barely holding. “Now I’m scared you do.”
Taiga went utterly still. The words lodged in his throat, barely managing to slip out in a whisper.
“Why would that scare you?”
Hokuto’s eyes dropped, unable to meet him. His next words trembled in the air, heavy with fear.
“Because if we mess this up…” His pause was a blade between them.
“We don’t just break hearts, Taiga. We break the group.”
For a long moment, silence stretched between them. Only the sound of their own breathing filled the room. Uneven, shaky, anxious.
They had always known it would come to this. Because if something was destined to happen between them, the ones who would suffer most aside from themselves, would be their members.
And worse….what if it dragged the group down? What if it sparked a clash among fans, splitting the fandom, collapsing everything they had built? Losing all of that… was unbearable.
Taiga and Hokuto understood every risk. They had begun this whole thing with a lie — pretending, just to put out the scandal’s fire. But what if it backfired? What if, one day, someone dragged it back into the light, twisting the truth, and fans turned their backs?
How could people trust and support a group that once fed them a lie just to survive? Even if their feelings had become real along the way… would the betrayal still haunt them?
What if this mess tore everything apart? Could they even stay together then? Or would people beg for a “normal” group again — just idols, nothing more? Because who wanted to acknowledge a relationship that had started with a lie?
Yet… what about their feelings?
Should they keep hiding, denying, pretending forever?
Could they really stand on stage, side by side, smiling as nothing more than bandmates — as ordinary friends — while their hearts screamed for more? Could they ever truly throw away the emotions they had finally, reluctantly, allowed themselves to accept?
Was holding back always going to be the right answer? Was that really the best choice they had? Couldn’t they be happy…. just once?
And so, Taiga sat silently on the couch, lost in thought, while Hokuto stood before him, weighed down by the same questions, the same chains.
Because loving out loud might shatter everything between them, but holding it in was slowly shattering them more.
“You kissed me like it wasn’t fake,” Taiga said at last, his voice breaking the silence that had been strangling the room.
No matter how much they battled against what the future might bring… the hesitation, the fear, the worst-case scenarios, Taiga still felt the need to ask about that . About that kiss. Was it just the “method acting” Hokuto had claimed in the group chat? Was it only for work? Or… had he truly meant it that day? Taiga needed that answer, even if it shattered him.
Hokuto froze. His throat tightened, every excuse he’d rehearsed dissolving on his tongue. “Because it wasn’t,” he admitted, low but steady.
Hokuto had known all along. That kiss… though accidental at first, lips colliding in a way neither planned, had been real to him. More real than he could ever admit. He wanted Taiga to know he hadn’t lied for the cameras, that it wasn’t some excuse about acting he’d fed the others. He had wanted it.
Taiga’s lips parted, his chest rising and falling too quickly. “…And I kissed you back like it wasn’t either.”
Hokuto’s head snapped up. His breath caught when their eyes finally locked, Taiga’s gaze raw and unguarded, his own desperate and trembling. For a heartbeat, neither moved. The air between them thickened, fragile, like glass about to shatter.
Slowly, Hokuto walked closer to Taiga, every step forward weighted with fear and inevitability. He crossed the space and sank down onto his knees before Taiga, as if the only way to face him was from below. Tentatively, he reached out and took Taiga’s hands in his own. His fingers shook as they wrapped around Taiga’s, afraid of being pushed away but unable to let go.
“Tell me to stop,” Hokuto whispered, his voice barely audible, as though the words themselves could break him. “And I’ll back off forever.”
Taiga swallowed hard. He could feel Hokuto’s pulse racing against his skin, the warmth of his hands anchoring him. His mind screamed with all the reasons they shouldn’t, with every ‘what if’ . Their group, public expectations, and if the world outside was waiting to tear them apart.
But his heart, traitorous and aching, only whispered one thing: don’t let go.
And Taiga didn’t say a word.
Instead, Taiga leaned down, slow and hesitant, until their foreheads almost touched. Hokuto’s breath ghosted across his lips, warm and uneven, betraying the war raging inside him. Taiga’s pulse thundered so loudly he swore Hokuto could hear it. Time dragged, cruel and unrelenting, daring one of them to retreat. But neither moved away.
Taiga’s lips parted as if to speak, but nothing came out. His hand twitched where Hokuto held it, caught between the urge to pull away and the desperate need to hold tighter. Hokuto’s eyes searched his face. Raw, uncertain, aching as though trying to memorize every flicker of doubt and longing that crossed it.
“I shouldn’t want this,” Taiga whispered, the words barely audible, trembling against the fragile air between them.
“Then tell me to stop,” Hokuto murmured again, softer this time, but firmer in conviction. His thumb brushed across Taiga’s knuckles, steady, grounding, even as his own voice wavered with fear. “Tell me to walk away, and I will.”
Taiga’s throat worked, but the words never came. Instead, his body betrayed him. He leaned closer, so close that their breaths tangled, so close that retreat would have felt like tearing himself apart.
And then finally, Taiga closed the final distance.
He kissed Hokuto. The second time after that kiss . Their second kiss — but the first that truly belonged to them.
It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t desperate, but it shook with the weight of everything they had buried. A confession carried not in words but in the press of lips, in the trembling exhale that slipped between them. Hokuto’s hand came up to cradle Taiga’s jaw, holding him like something precious, something fragile he had no right to touch but couldn’t let go of.
This time, there were no cameras. No agency. No script.
Just them — two people who had run from this truth too long, finally colliding in the quiet wreckage of their own restraint.
And in that kiss… hesitant, aching, defiant — they both knew there was no going back.
The kiss was soft at first, tentative, trembling like it might shatter if either of them pressed too hard. Hokuto’s lips tasted faintly of salt. Taiga realized too late it wasn’t just his own tears. When they finally broke apart, breath ragged, a single tear slipped down Taiga’s cheek. Hokuto’s eyes were already wet, shining under the dim light, and the sight alone cracked something open inside him.
Taiga almost whispered an apology, but Hokuto’s hand curled into his shirt, holding him there, refusing to let go. Their gazes locked again… broken, raw, overflowing. And then, without warning, Hokuto pulled him in again.
This kiss was nothing like the first. It was messy, wet with tears, their mouths crashing together in desperation. Their teeth knocked, their breathing hitched between sobs, but neither of them stopped. Hokuto kissed him like he was terrified Taiga would disappear, and Taiga kissed back like it was the only thing keeping him alive. The world around them blurred, narrowed to nothing but the press of lips, the sting of tears, the tremor in their hands as they clung tighter and tighter, like drowning men refusing to surface.
When they finally broke apart, just long enough to breathe, Taiga pressed his forehead to Hokuto’s. His chest heaved, voice breaking in the quiet.
“I can’t—” His words faltered, another tear escaping. “I can’t keep pretending.”
Hokuto’s hand lingered against Taiga’s jaw, thumb brushing away the tear that refused to stop falling. His own eyes brimmed with tears, voice barely a whisper. “Then don’t.”
And then Hokuto leaned in again. Their lips met once more, slower this time. As if every second was an attempt to reclaim the years they had lost, the years they had forced themselves into silence. Each movement was a confession, every brush of lips a vow: of all the feelings they had buried, of every moment they had denied themselves.
Taiga’s breath shuddered as he kissed back, his fingers curling into the fabric of Hokuto’s shirt, holding him as if letting go would mean losing everything all over again. The kiss was no longer frantic but weighted, full of the truth they had been too afraid to speak. A truth that burned between them, undeniable, unstoppable.
Because this was what they wanted, what they had always wanted.
No more holding back.
When they finally tore apart, foreheads pressed together, both of them were shaking. Breathless. Tear-streaked. And yet unwilling to let even an inch of distance slip between them.
After the heavy confessions — after years of holding back only to finally give in, they didn’t want to let go of each other yet. Hokuto hesitated, then quietly asked if he could stay the night. Taiga, without a second thought, agreed. He didn’t want to let go either.
Moments later, tangled in silence that felt warmer than any blanket, Taiga and Hokuto lay side by side on the bed.
Hokuto let out a soft chuckle. “So… are we still pretending?”
Taiga buried his face into the pillow, heat crawling up his neck. “Shut up. You’re lucky I like your stupid face.”
“You love it,” Hokuto teased, voice low and smug.
“Don’t push it,” Taiga snapped back immediately, his cheeks burning.
For a moment, there was only the sound of their breathing, too close, too steady to be accidental. Taiga shifted, aware of Hokuto’s arm brushing against his. He wanted to pull away, but instead he inched closer, until their shoulders touched.
“…This is weird,” Taiga muttered.
“Comfortable, though,” Hokuto countered, his tone softer now.
The silence that followed wasn’t heavy anymore. It was… safe. Taiga could feel it in the way Hokuto’s body eased beside him, as if he finally belonged here.
Hokuto reached out, searching for Taiga’s hand beneath the blanket. When he found it, he clasped it gently. It was warm, so warm it felt like home. When Taiga gave a small squeeze back, Hokuto’s chest tightened. That single touch was enough to tell him everything.
Hokuto was grateful. So was Taiga.
They stayed in silence. Sometimes Taiga hummed under his breath, a tune Hokuto couldn’t place, but it didn’t matter because the sound alone told him Taiga was happy.
“You know... during that rooftop photoshoot, you fell asleep on me,” Hokuto said suddenly, confessing one of the moments that had made him realize just how far gone he was. His feeling towards Taiga.
“I was tired,” Taiga muttered, his ears turning red.
“And you drooled,” Hokuto teased.
“Shut up! I did not!” Taiga barked, trying to yank his hand free.
But Hokuto only tightened his grip, refusing to let him escape. “You did. But it was cute.”
Taiga went silent. Whether out of embarrassment or secret acceptance, Hokuto couldn’t tell.
“I’m writing it in the group chat,” Hokuto suddenly announced, reaching for his phone on the nightstand.
Taiga’s hand shot out, catching his other wrist. “Don’t you dare.”
Hokuto smirked in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, their faces now only inches apart. And then ….
Chup.
He pressed a quick kiss against Taiga’s cheek.
Taiga’s face instantly turned scarlet. He let go of Hokuto’s wrist, flustered, before burying himself in the crook of Hokuto’s neck.
Hokuto’s smile softened as he tilted his head slightly, inhaling the faint scent of Taiga’s hair like it was something he’d been searching for all his life.
Even so, he still reached for his phone with his earlier free hand. His grin widened as the screen lit up with chaos from the group chat the second he hit send.
SixTONES Group Chat
[Hokuto] :
KyomoHoku is no longer fake. We’re real. Goodnight.
[Jesse] :
I TOLD YOU!!!!
[Kochi] :
FINALLY!!! AT LAST!!!
[Shintaro] :
Pay up, Juri. I said they’d make up and kiss again. I knew it.
[Juri] :
Worth every yen.
[Jesse] :
STOP SENDING MY HEART INTO HELL!!! SPILL!! WE NEED DETAILS!!
[Kochi] :
This feels illegal. Someone call the cops for emotional abuse.
[Shintaro] :
Screenshots. I demand screenshots. THE WORLD DEMANDS THEM.
[Juri] :
BRB ugly crying in the corner.
[Hokuto] :
Goodnight, everyone. Chaos is your problem now.
[Taiga] :
Delete the chat. Burn it. Leave no survivors.
After the flurry of notifications faded, silence finally settled over the apartment. The glow from Hokuto’s phone dimmed as he set it aside.
Taiga, still flushed from the earlier teasing and chat chaos, scooted closer on the bed. Hokuto shifted, turning to face him, their faces just inches apart. The warmth between them was enough to hush all the noise outside, all the expectations, all the fears.
“Finally,” Taiga murmured.
Hokuto smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from Taiga’s face. “Yeah. Finally.”
They tangled together beneath the blankets, quiet but not distant. Every touch, every heartbeat, every shallow breath was a promise, unspoken yet deeply understood.
No matter how much chaos their members stirred with teasing, SixTONES had always been home: the one place where honesty and safety waited for them.
Hokuto slid one arm out, letting Taiga rest his head on it, while the other hand gently brushed through his hair. Taiga’s hand found its way to Hokuto’s chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart against his palm.
“Goodnight,” Hokuto whispered, voice low and warm.
“Goodnight,” Taiga replied, eyes closing, letting the world dissolve around them.
Minutes passed. The only sounds were their soft breaths, the rustle of blankets, and the occasional sigh as they shifted closer. Taiga’s fingers curled, holding tighter to Hokuto, a wordless affirmation he didn’t have to say aloud. Hokuto pressed a lingering kiss to the top of Taiga’s head, letting the warmth sink in.
Outside the apartment, the world could wait. Here, bathed in the soft glow of lamplight, they were home. Safe. Warm. Finally real.
And for the first time in years, they didn’t have to pretend. Everything felt like it finally belonged to them.
After the chaos Hokuto had dropped on the members, they all came to a quiet decision: Taiga and Hokuto could explain in their own time, in their own words. No one would force them, no one would pry. They all knew what it meant to wrestle with feelings you weren’t ready to name, and being the family they were, respect came before curiosity.
They weren’t family by blood, but they had something just as binding — years of standing side by side, weathering storms together. Chaos, teasing, ridiculous antics, yes — but when it mattered, they understood. That understanding ran thicker than blood.
And then, it started small.
Taiga showed up to rehearsals in Hokuto’s hoodie, the sleeves hanging loose and swallowing his hands.
Hokuto started carrying an extra bottle of Taiga’s favorite drink, sliding it over with a casual, “just in case,” as if it had always been routine.
At first, the others exchanged looks. Smirks, raised brows, whispered comments in corners. Teasing lingered at the edges, but never enough to push, never enough to corner. They made chaos, yes, but they made space too.
And after a while… no one said anything anymore.
No one commented anymore.
Not because it wasn’t obvious.
But because it was finally happening.
It wasn’t an announcement. There was no grand declaration.
It was Hokuto reaching for Taiga’s bag after practice without being asked.
It was Taiga leaning into Hokuto’s side during breaks, eyes half-lidded, trusting.
It was laughter that came too easy, glances that lingered too long.
And somehow, the silence felt louder than any joke could.
During one late-night rehearsal, Jesse caught it first. Taiga tugged absentmindedly at the sleeve of Hokuto’s jacket while they waited for their cue. Not fidgeting. Not nervous. Just… holding onto it, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Kochi noticed next, his eyes flicking from the drink in Hokuto’s hand to the way Taiga took it without asking. Like muscle memory.
Juri smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching, but for once he didn’t say a word. Even Shintaro, usually the loudest at spotting anything suspicious, just watched with this quiet little grin, as if teasing would only ruin the moment.
The room was filled with music, mirrors, and sweat. But underneath it all was something softer. An unspoken agreement that whatever this was between Taiga and Hokuto, it didn’t need to be pushed or explained.
They didn’t need to announce it to the world.
No post. No live stream. No bio change.
Not like how a “real couple” was supposed to.
Because in a way, the world had already been told.
The agency had made the announcement for them, back when that scandal demanded a solution. Back when the crisis room meeting sealed their fate with a single decision: they were branded as lovers.
And yet… beyond all that, the fans had seen it long before anyone admitted it.
The subtle shifts. The quiet changes.
Even now, years later —
The way Hokuto’s gaze softened when Taiga wasn’t looking.
The way Taiga’s laughter rang brighter, freer, when Hokuto was near.
The ease. The comfort. The kind of familiarity that couldn’t be staged.
The difference was never loud. It was quiet. Gentle.
It was never about PDA. It was about peace.
It had been weeks since the kiss aired, yet the internet refused to let it die down. The buzz never truly settled. Fans were gushing nonstop, replaying the moment on loop, making endless edits, screaming over captions. It was everywhere.
The KyomoHoku kiss, caught on record, saved for eternity. The KyomoHoku kiss had become an immortal record in the fandom’s archive.
Now, it was SixTONES first live broadcast since that fateful moment. As expected, chaos was guaranteed. Because chaos was SixTONES default setting. Chaos was their natural state of being, after all.
It was always Juri, Kochi, Jesse, Taiga, Hokuto, Shintaro. Seat in line, same for years. Taiga and Hokuto sat beside each other, like they always did. It wasn’t new. Their seating arrangement had been the same for years, nothing unusual about it.
Yet this time… it looked different. Softer. As if they weren’t just sitting side by side, but as if they had always been meant to.
The live went on with their usual brand of mayhem. Shintaro passionately showed off his new hobby, Jesse interrupted with terrible Japanese puns, Kochi cackled too loudly, Juri tried to restore order (and failed). Fans spammed the comments, and the members occasionally leaned in to read, responding between bursts of conversation.
Then it happened.
Without hesitation, Hokuto’s hand reached out to smooth down Taiga’s fringe, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Not staged. Not exaggerated. An instinct? A habit? Or simply love in its purest, unconscious form?
No one would ever know for sure.
What they did know, however, was that the comment section exploded instantly.
The fans went feral. Absolutely unhinged.
Live Comment Highlights :
The members didn’t miss it either. They froze for a split second.
Jesse nearly choked on his own laughter, coughing dramatically until Kochi smacked him on the back. Of course, Jesse made it worse. His eyebrows shot up, a grin spreading across his face.
“Ohhh? Hokuto, you didn’t even hesitate.”
Kochi groaned and swatted him again, but Jesse caught his wrist this time and, with mock sweetness, cooed, “Not now, honey.”
Kochi swore if this wasn’t a live broadcast, Jesse would already be dead.
Meanwhile, Shintaro, who had been mid-story about his latest hobby, threw his head back in despair. “Oi, you two! Can you NOT steal the spotlight every single time? I’m literally pouring my heart out here!”
The youngest looked one second away from fake tears, acting spoiled just to claw back attention.
Juri just sighed into the camera like an exhausted parent. “This live isn’t about KyomoHoku, okay? Control yourselves.”
But neither Hokuto nor Taiga reacted, at least not obviously. Taiga ducked his head, ears a little pink, while Hokuto leaned back casually like nothing happened. Yet, in the middle of all the noise, there was a softness that made it impossible to look away.
And the comments only went more unhinged.
Live Comment Highlights :
Backstage after the live, Jesse leaned over, grin wide.
“Y’all realize we’re gonna have to add you to the SixTONES Official Couple Chart now.”
Taiga narrowed his eyes. “What chart?”
“The one in our hearts,” Kochi said quietly behind a juice box.
“We don’t have a chart,” Juri deadpanned immediately.
“We do now,” Jesse declared proudly. Then, with zero shame, he swiveled. “Also… Kochi, wanna be Couple No. 2?”
Kochi choked, spraying a bit of juice. “Say sike right now.”
Jesse just winked. Even with Kochi continuously denied, he never stopped, not even planning to. If anything, they only encouraged him.
“Hold on,” Hokuto cut in, looking genuinely scandalized. “Who even said we were Couple No. 1?!”
This, from the man who had literally dropped the “KyomoHoku isn’t fake anymore” bomb just nights ago. They hadn’t officially declared anything yet, but everyone already knew. They were just waiting for Taiga and Hokuto to admit it to their faces.
Shintaro, without glancing up from his phone: “The entire internet, probably.” His voice was casual, but the teasing undertone was loud and clear.
“Don’t drag the internet into this,” Hokuto snapped, ears turning just a little red.
“Too late,” Juri smirked. “They already shipped you. We’re just… acknowledging democracy.”
“Democracy doesn’t work like that!” Taiga argued, which was bold considering he and Hokuto had basically confessed already.
“Yes it does,” Jesse countered smoothly. “Majority wins. Congrats, lovebirds.”
And that was how KyomoHoku became Couple No. 1.
Officially. Unofficially. Eternally.
Today was chaos — messy, loud, and downright hilarious. Even after Taiga confronted Hokuto backstage for being so careless during the live, right on the heels of their group’s banter over the couple chart, Hokuto only smiled. He soothed him instantly, because he knew Taiga. He knew how quickly Taiga sank into overthinking, and he would never let him drown in it.
That night, Hokuto stayed by Taiga’s side. Taiga curled into him on the couch, soaking in the warmth that radiated from him.
“I’m scared,” Taiga whispered into the quiet.
“Of what?” Hokuto asked, tightening his hold around him.
“What if we mess it up?” His voice wavered, thick with hesitation and concern.
Hokuto pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Then we get back up. Together.”
He continued softly, “We have our group. The members. They’d never let us burn. You know how many years we’ve been through.”
Taiga let out a small breath, smiling a little despite the weight in his chest. “I know. I know how much they’d burn the world for us, if it came to that… but the overthinking won’t let me go.”
“We’ll make it through this,” Hokuto murmured, arms tightening again. “I promise.”
For a long moment, Taiga was silent. Then, almost too soft to catch, he breathed, “Okay. We will.”
Silence fell again, not the type of awkward, but full. Full of unspoken things. Full of something solid and real.
Then, Taiga suddenly chuckled under his breath.
“What?” Hokuto blinked down at him.
“I just realized,” Taiga said, still tucked into Hokuto’s side, “Juri’s probably already typing up some dramatic new group chat name for this.”
And as if the universe itself couldn’t resist proving him right — both their phones buzzed at the same time.
SixTONES Group Chat
[Jesse]:
Real talk tho. Y’all are cute.
[Shintaro]:
Like… disgustingly cute.
[Kochi]:
Can’t believe I rooted for this mess and now I want fanart.
[Juri]:
Changing group name to: KyomoHoku Redemption Arc
[Taiga]:
I swear to God
[Hokuto]:
Let them love us.
[Jesse]:
Too late. The shippers have already risen.
[Kochi]:
So… are we getting wedding invites or what?
[Shintaro]:
Make it a group event. I’m DJ-ing.
[Juri]:
I’ll MC. Obviously.
[Jesse]:
I call best man. I’ll write the vows.
[Kochi]:
Taiga’s typing angrily right now, I can feel it.
[Hokuto]:
Good idea...I think it’s romantic. Except, for the part of Jesse writes the vows.
[Taiga]:
STOP! YOU’RE NOT HELPING!
“They’re gonna make chaos over this,” Taiga groaned, facepalming as he closed the group chat. “They’re never gonna stop teasing us. And you, Matsumura Hokuto. Stop being the accelerator for more chaos. You really love teasing me,” He continued.
“But it’s cute,” Hokuto grinned, “and you’re blushing.”
“Shut up, Hokuto. This is your fault.”
“Nope,” Hokuto said, smugly. “We’re both to blame. We’ve loved each other for years and were just too dumb to admit it.”
“Enough,” Taiga glared, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.
“Agh, I remember during our junior days,” Hokuto said, voice softening with nostalgia, “I always stuck to you like glue. Maybe even back then, I already liked you... but I didn’t realize it. Or maybe I was scared.”
“And I let you,” Taiga admitted quietly. “Even though I had feelings too. Then something shifted, and we started keeping our distance. I don’t even remember how it happened.”
“Yeah,” Hokuto nodded. “We became so cautious around each other. Now I get it. Those times my chest ached... it was because I just wanted to touch you, but I was afraid. Everyone joked that we were the exes who broke up without ever dating. They didn’t know the truth.”
“That was a terrible year,” Taiga whispered. “We were just... too late. Or maybe we realized everything too late.”
“But still,” Hokuto smiled, brushing Taiga’s hair behind his ear. “Even with that ridiculous gossip setup our agency threw at us… because somehow, it brought us here. And we finally told the truth. And now, it will be us. On this. Together.”
Taiga smiled back and pulled Hokuto into a tight embrace. The world outside could laugh, tease, or speculate all they wanted. But right here, in the quiet warmth of Hokuto’s arms, none of that mattered.
For the first time in years, it felt like they weren’t too late.
The agency called them in, but only Taiga and Hokuto. It felt eerily familiar — like déjà vu of the day the scandal broke.
Back then, the air was stiff, like dark looming in the room. Tabloid threats.
This time? Just their manager, slouched in his chair, tie loosened, dark circles under his eyes. A single folder sat on the table between them, like it weighed a ton.
He tapped his pen against it, eyes flicking between them.
“So…” he said slowly, “are you still fake dating?”
Hokuto glanced at Taiga.
Taiga didn’t even blink.
“No,” he said flatly.
“We’re actually dating now,” Hokuto added, calmly.
“Since when?” the manager asked, raising a brow.
Taiga scratched the back of his neck, muttering under his breath. “Since that kiss.”
The manager’s eyebrow arched. “Which one? The studio one… or the elevator one after rehearsal? The one you thought wasn’t caught on CCTV?”
Silence.
Taiga froze. “...You saw that?” he choked.
The manager barked a laugh, sharp and humorless.
“The entire building saw that.”
They both braced for it. The lecture, the scolding, the inevitable damage control speech. They hadn’t been careful. Not again.
Instead, the manager only sighed, long and tired, leaning back in his chair.
“We’ll manage it. Just… be careful.” His expression softened into something unreadable.
Hokuto frowned. “So… you’re okay with it?”
“As long as the group’s okay. And you don’t break up mid-tour.”
“We won’t,” Taiga said instantly, the kind of answer that left no room for doubt.
Another sigh. Louder this time. The pen slipped from his hand and landed on the table with a soft clack.
“God help me,” the manager muttered under his breath, “if Jesse and Kochi are next.”
Because if that day ever came, he might really have to reconsider whether he could keep handling all this chaos. Especially Jesse. That boy was a walking storm of trouble and affection rolled into one, and sometimes the manager swore he needed therapy just from being around him.
And yet…after all these years with the group, despite the headaches, the late-night calls, the endless damage control — it wasn’t all bad. Sometimes, in rare unguarded moments, he was grateful. They weren’t just idols under his management anymore. They were like toddlers he had raised, exhausting and mischievous, but also warm. Warm enough to feel like a second family he had never asked for, but somehow ended up treasuring.
He leaned back in his chair, alone in the quiet meeting room now that Taiga and Hokuto had gone. His eyes followed them as they left, their figures side by side. There was something in the way they carried themselves now. Lighter, as if a weight had finally lifted. For the first time in years, he could see warmth flickering between them again, a warmth long lost.
At least… at least they had finally come to understand each other. After years of pining in silence, of circling each other in painful hesitation. Maybe, in some twisted way, the agency’s decision had been a blessing in disguise. When they had pushed Taiga forward as Hokuto’s scapegoat in the scandal, he’d been furious at first. Terrified of what it would do to them both. He had hated it, hated the cruelty of it. But looking at them now, he wondered if that was the catalyst they had needed all along. A cruel shove, yes — but one that had forced them out of the endless cycle of tiptoeing, of pretending not to care, of dragging out a slow-burn angst that could’ve filled a thousand episodes of a melodrama.
And he admitted it quietly to himself: he was happy now. Happy to see them together, happy to see the group still holding strong, still standing side by side no matter the storms.
And in the deepest corner of his heart, he hoped — he prayed — it would be forever.
That night, all six of them ended up crammed into Taiga’s living room.
The TV was on, some old action movie flickering in the background, explosions lighting up the walls every few seconds but nobody was really watching.
Taiga was curled into Hokuto’s side, both of them cocooned under the same blanket, the edges dragging across the floor. Hokuto’s arm rested lazily around him, fingers brushing Taiga’s shoulder every now and then, absentminded but grounding.
On the carpet, Juri was half-asleep, sprawled out like a starfish with a throw pillow under his head. He snored softly, but somehow still managed to add a mumbled comment to the conversation every few minutes, as if his brain refused to stop chiming in.
Across from them, Shintaro sat cross-legged, phone tilted low in his hands. His expression was way too focused to be about the movie, which only meant one thing — he was typing in the group chat. Even here, even now. His shoulders shook with stifled laughter, waiting for the chaos to erupt once everyone else noticed.
On the couch, Kochi kept elbowing Jesse off his shoulder every time Jesse leaned against him. Jesse, of course, leaned back in harder each time, grinning like a menace. Their little battle had been going on for half an hour, no clear winner in sight.
It was chaos. It was messy.
But, it was home.
And somewhere in the middle of all that noise, with his head tucked beneath Hokuto’s chin, Taiga whispered into the blanket’s warmth, “I think this might be the realest thing we’ve ever had.”
Hokuto’s lips curved in a quiet smile. He dipped his chin just enough for his mouth to brush against Taiga’s hair, the tiniest ghost of a kiss hidden in the gesture. He didn’t bother answering with words. The slow, deliberate nod against Taiga’s crown said enough.
For a few blissful moments, the room hummed only with the sound of even breaths and tangled comfort. Even the movie’s sound seemed to fade away.
Ping. Ping. Ping.
Sharp notifications shattered the calm, buzzing through the room like firecrackers.
Every phone lit up at once, except for Shintaro’s. He was already muffling his laugh into a pillow, shoulders shaking.
Juri shot upright, instantly alert as if someone had blown a war horn. Jesse and Kochi froze mid-argument, still glaring at each other but unwilling to ignore the telltale sound of the group chat.
Taiga and Hokuto shared the same weary sigh. They were all in the same room. So why were they still doing this?
Still, there was no escaping it. In unison, the two of them reached for their phones, bracing themselves as the chaos of SixTONES moved from the air around them to the glowing screens in their hands.
SixTONES Group Chat
[Shintaro]:
So when are you two finally saying it?
[Juri]:
Bro… they’ve kissed ✔️ slept over ✔️ swapped clothes ✔️
What’s left??
[Jesse]:
But no “I love you”? PATHETIC. COWARDS.
[Taiga]:
SHUT UP. ALL OF YOU.
[Hokuto]:
…you want to say it? Or hear it.. or I can just write it here…
[Taiga]:
NOT. IN. THE. GROUP. CHAT!!!
[Kochi]:
Too late. We’re all watching. 👀
[Juri]:
ahem Attention, ladies and gentlemen: history is about to be made.
As if on cue, every single head in the room snapped up from their phones to Hokuto and Taiga. Full attention.
Hokuto chuckled under his breath, glancing at Taiga, whose ears were burning bright red.
“SAY IT!” Jesse shouted from across the room, dramatically throwing a pillow in their direction.
“GET HIM, KOCHI!” Shintaro added, already half-standing, grinning like a maniac.
Taiga yelped and dove under the blanket, cocooning himself like it was a shield against the madness.
Hokuto only laughed, warm and easy, before slipping a hand beneath the covers to find Taiga’s. His voice softened, low enough to make Taiga’s chest ache.
“I love you.”
Even hidden, Taiga heard it crystal clear. The words. The confession. Finally.
His head popped out from the blanket, eyes wide, face flushed.
“...You said it first.” His voice was barely steady.
“Yeah,” Hokuto grinned, eyes crinkling in that way that always undid him. “Finally. I did.”
“Come on, Taiga! SAY IT BACK, Kyomo! This is the movie moment!” Juri shouted, rallying the others into an obnoxious chant:
“Say it back! Say it back! Say it back!”
“Shut up, all of you! Aghhh —” Taiga groaned, dragging the blanket off his head.
Then, in one sharp motion, he grabbed Hokuto’s collar, yanked him close, and with his lips brushing Hokuto’s ear, he whispered — just loud enough for the entire room to hear:
“I love you too.”
For a heartbeat, the room froze. Even the movie seemed to hush, the soundtrack fading into the background as if the universe itself wanted to hold the moment still.
But then,
“YEEEEEEEEESSSSSSS!” Jesse practically flipped off the couch.
Shintaro collapsed onto the floor, wheezing.
Kochi jumped up and started clapping like it was a wedding.
Juri declared, “END SCENE. WE’VE REACHED THE PEAK OF CINEMA.”
And Taiga groaned, burying his face in Hokuto’s chest as pillows started flying again.
The movie still played in the background, completely forgotten.
But this?
This was the realest thing.
Taiga couldn’t ask for more. He was happy, and so was everyone else. As long as they were together, nothing could break them apart.
The next day, they all woke up late in the afternoon, groggy and tangled in blankets like they had survived a small war.
Thankfully, it was their off day. If not, their manager would’ve stormed in and delivered a lecture long enough for days.
They had a late lunch together, sprawled around the living room floor with takeout containers. The air was filled with easy laughter, teasing, and the kind of comfortable silence that only comes when you’ve known each other for years. Sunlight spilled lazily through the curtains, painting everything in a soft, golden glow.
Jesse, of course, couldn’t let it go.
“By the way,” he announced dramatically, “Kochi fell asleep on my shoulder last night. It was… really cute.”
Instead of the blush he hoped for, Kochi smacked him so hard between the shoulder blades that Jesse almost choked on his food.
The room erupted in laughter, Jesse whining dramatically about “love being violent” while Kochi rolled his eyes. Another day of idiots refusing to admit feelings.
By evening, one by one, the others left Taiga’s house, their departures noisy with teasing, drawn-out goodbyes, and half-serious promises to meet again soon.
When the last pair disappeared down the street, Taiga and Hokuto stood by the door together, waving lazily. The house suddenly felt quiet but still warm.
Then, predictably, both of their phones buzzed.
Ping. Ping. Ping.
Taiga groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “They won’t stop, will they?”
Hokuto chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. “It’s okay. They’re just… happy for us.”
Taiga peeked at the screen. The group chat was exploding.
SixTONES Group Chat
[Jesse]:
Love wins 😭
[Shintaro]:
Took infinity chapters and every last piece of my emotional stability
[Juri]:
Don’t ever break up. I’m too invested in this ship now.
[Kochi]:
So what are we supposed to scream about next? My throat is still sore.
[Jesse]:
Easy. Us. We can be the next couple. Or I’ll just bring Kochi as my plus-one when KyomoHoku get married 💒✨
[Juri]:
Here we go again. Another idiot application I have to process.
[Shintaro]:
Oh no, this is good. I’m starting a betting pool. Everyone place your bets.
[Kochi]:
Bet all you want. The result is obvious. You all going to lose.
[Jesse]:
Confidence noted 😏 We’ll see about that.
[Hokuto]:
Wait, can I bet too? And maybe leak one of our couple pics next week.
[Taiga]:
😡 TRY IT AND DIE. HOKUTO. DON’T YOU DARE TURN INTO THEM.
[Jesse]:
BREAKING NEWS: SixTONES officially split because Hokuto couldn’t resist posting Taiga’s face. Details at 11.
[Shintaro]:
If you’re gonna ruin your careers, at least let me post first. I look cute today.
[Juri]:
Y’all are children. Absolute children. I’m logging off before the FBI tracks this chat.
[Kochi]:
…Just saying, Hokuto already has the couple picture set as his lockscreen. Don’t ask me how I know.
[Hokuto]:
How dare you sneak over my phone. But fine… I admit the picture’s cute though.
[Taiga]:
I DECLARE THIS GROUP TO BE COMBUST 🔥💀
It had been a year since the kiss that broke the internet.
A year since the scandal that could have destroyed their group, but instead rewrote everything.
A year since Hokuto was caught with an actress; a scandal that should have ended with a stiff apology, maybe a quiet denial.
But it didn’t end there.
It ended with Taiga at his side. With the fake solution their agency threw together; one that turned out not so fake after all.
A year since the “pretend” relationship turned into something neither of them could hide anymore. Because that was the truth: the scandal didn’t break them, it pulled them closer. Years of pining, years of silence, all finally given voice.
Now?
They still bicker. Maybe less. Maybe more. But always with love threaded through.
Taiga still steals Hokuto’s clothes. Sweaters that hang too long past his wrists, hoodies that carry traces of cologne that weren't his.
Hokuto doesn’t bother asking for them back anymore. He just lets Taiga keep them, watching the way he wears them like they’ve always belonged to him.
And SixTONES?
SixTONES still louder than ever. Still teasing. Still thriving.
Because if there’s one thing they’ve learned, it’s that love — real love isn't the kind of thing that ruins a group.
It’s the kind of thing that keeps it alive.
Of course, it took time for Taiga and Hokuto to officially come out to their manager and the group. For months they acted like a couple already; the little things, the touches, the closeness everyone could see. But eventually, they wanted to come clean. Their relationship wasn’t just theirs anymore. It was tied to the group’s future too.
Their manager sighed when they finally confessed, but he didn’t look surprised. “Just don’t let it break the group,” was all he said, but then, softer: “You know I’ve got your backs.”
Telling the members happened later, during a sleepover at Jesse’s place. The chaos of takeout containers had barely settled when Hokuto finally said, “Okay. Serious talk. About me and Taiga.”
“Serious mode on,” Jesse replied, straightening as the others followed suit.
Taiga fidgeted at first, then smiled as he spoke. “You guys already know. But we wanted to say it properly. Hokuto and I… we’re together. Officially. And we need to know if you’re okay with that. Because this doesn’t just affect us, it affects all of us.”
Hokuto squeezed Taiga’s hand before adding, steady and sure: “If this changes what the future holds, we need to face it together.”
There was a pause, and then Kochi grinned. “Of course we’re okay. Honestly, we’ve known for years. The scandal just sped things up. If you’re happy, we’re happy.”
“Exactly,” Jesse said immediately. “We’ve been through too much together already. You guys being together doesn’t change that. It only makes us stronger.”
Juri leaned forward, more serious. “At first I was worried, yeah. None of us can predict the future. But if this makes you happy, it can’t be a bad thing. Look at the fans; they’re happier too. And me? I’m proud of you both.” He reached out, tapping Taiga’s knee, a quiet gesture of support.
All eyes turned to Shintaro, who had been listening in silence. He broke into his trademark smile. “I don’t care what the future brings. As long as we’re together, that’s enough for me.”
Hokuto and Taiga exchanged a glance, their grips tightening. Their hearts were full in a way words couldn’t capture.
“Thank you,” Taiga murmured, voice rough with emotion.
“Yeah,” Hokuto added softly. “We couldn’t ask for more.”
“We’re SixTONES,” Jesse said firmly. “We’ll get through everything together. Even if the agency tries to tear us apart, we’ll fight.”
The others nodded in agreement.
“Okay, group hug!” Juri declared and all of them laughed, collapsing into one messy pile of arms and warmth.
Whatever the future held, it didn’t feel so scary anymore. Not when they had each other’s backs.
Some kind of always.
As if on cue from their confession to the group, the very next week they were summoned again by the agency. All six of them. Just like the first time, back when the scandal broke.
The moment the message came in, Taiga’s stomach dropped.
If last time the agency had called them in to fix Hokuto’s scandal by publishing his relationship with Taiga, what if now they wanted to put an end to it? The scandal had already died down. Maybe the agency would say it was time to focus on the group only, and quietly cut off the "solution" they’d created.
What if they were about to be told to end everything?
What if the moments they’d fought for, the feelings they’d finally admitted, were about to be stripped away?
Hokuto noticed, of course. He squeezed Taiga’s hand before they even entered the building.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, steady and sure. “We’ll be fine.”
Inside the meeting room, the atmosphere was sharp with silence. The members sat together, calm on the surface, but every one of them radiating a quiet wall of support behind Hokuto and Taiga.
The staff flipped through papers, files spread across the table. Finally, one of them asked, voice clipped:
“Your manager says you’re serious about continuing this relationship?”
Their manager gave a short nod, though tension was written across his face.
“You understand,” another staff member added, “when the agency suggested this arrangement, it was to cover Hokuto’s scandal. Media play. Not because we wanted a real relationship established.”
Taiga stiffened at the words. Under the table, Hokuto’s hand found his again, firm, grounding. He tilted his head just enough to whisper without sound: I’ve got this.
“Yes,” Hokuto began, voice clear. “I know it started as damage control. A way to handle the scandal. But I’ll be honest. I want to continue this. We want to. It’s not just for the public anymore. It’s real. And I promise; it won’t harm the group, or the agency. The others agree, and we’ve talked about it together. It’s mutual.”
A different staff member leaned forward, eyes narrowing.
“And if something happens in the future? Right now, yes, fans support you. But what if you break up? What happens then? You can’t guarantee it won’t happen. What assurances can you give us?”
The words hung heavy in the room. Their manager looked ready to step in, to argue, but Hokuto gave him the smallest shake of the head. This wasn’t his fight. This was Hokuto’s.
“I can’t guarantee the future,” Hokuto admitted, steady as steel. “None of us can. But I can guarantee this: whatever happens, we’ll face it together. All of us. That’s our decision. That’s our promise.”
Around the table, the members nodded without hesitation. It wasn’t just Hokuto and Taiga’s fight anymore. It was SixTONES stand.
“Do you then agree,” another staff pressed, “that if anything happens, if the agency suffers a loss, you’ll take responsibility together?”
Of course. The agency’s main concern was profit. Typical.
“Of course,” Jesse cut in, calm but unshakable. “We don't want to continue the group either if you decide to break their relationship. Because no matter what, we’ll be in this together. If there’s loss, then we’ll take it and leave together. But trust me, it won’t come to that.”
“Yes. Definitely,” Kochi added, his voice firm. “We’ve already agreed. What’s the point of SixTONES without all six of us? Either we move forward together, or not at all.”
Shintaro leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “You’re asking for guarantees about the future? Here’s one: this group has already survived worse. And it’ll survive this. We’re not going anywhere.”
Juri, usually the loudest, spoke with surprising restraint. “Look. We know the risks. We know how this industry works. But if you’re looking for someone to blame if things ever go bad, then blame me first. I’ll take it before you touch them.”
The room went quiet for a beat. SixTONES wasn’t just supporting Taiga and Hokuto. They were protecting them.
Hokuto tightened his grip on Taiga’s hand, then bowed his head slightly. “You hear them. This isn’t just my promise, or Taiga’s. It’s ours.”
“I promise this relationship won’t harm the group or the company,” Taiga added softly but firmly, his first words of the meeting.
The staff exchanged glances, scribbling notes before the one who seemed in charge finally spoke:
“Alright. We’ll bring this to the higher-ups. Hopefully they’ll respect your stance. We’re only here as representatives. We wish you luck and let’s continue working together for a long time.”
“I’ll manage them. No worries,” their manager added, final and certain. Before leaving, he flashed the group a quick thumbs-up. Good job.
When the door shut behind them, the tension snapped. All six exhaled at once.
“Damn, that was intense,” Jesse said, running a hand through his hair. Then he grinned, wide and bright. “But amazing. I love you guys, truly.”
The room erupted in laughter, relief spilling over at last.
And with that, after the tense meeting with the agency, their moments together started to bloom again. No longer staged, no longer a script written in some crisis room. This time, it was natural. The kind of real that couldn’t be faked.
During a behind-the-scenes shoot, the staff stumbled upon Hokuto and Taiga tucked away in a quiet corner, sharing a single pair of earbuds.
Taiga was half-asleep, head resting against Hokuto’s shoulder, the music humming between them like a private lullaby.
The staff exchanged glances, unsure at first. But with the manager’s quiet approval and the agency’s reluctant acceptance — as long as the group remained steady and growing, which then the moment was allowed to live. For Taiga and Hokuto, it felt like a sign: sooner or later, they had to be ready for more moments like this. After all, this was no longer pretending. This was real.
The short clip went viral in seconds. Fans screamed for days. Another piece of KyomoHoku history was born.
After years of orbiting around each other, terrified of colliding in fear it would bring disaster, they had finally become constants.
Taiga no longer flinched when Hokuto’s fingers brushed his.
Hokuto no longer looked away when Taiga caught him staring, as though Taiga had hung the stars themselves.
And the world noticed.
Then came tour season. Their moments didn’t just exist; they multiplied, each one louder, bolder, impossible to ignore.
During one concert tour, Taiga tripped on a stage prop mid-performance. Hokuto’s arm shot out instantly, steadying him before he could stumble. Instead of letting go, Taiga absentmindedly stayed close, fingers still caught in Hokuto’s sleeve even as the music went on. Cameras caught it. Fans caught it. And the screams? Deafening.
KyomoHoku was no longer a whisper. They were a storm.
The crowd was still buzzing from the earlier teasing when the beat of the next song kicked in. The energy on stage shot up instantly. Lights flashing, members hyping each other, the arena practically vibrating with screams.
And then, towards the end of the song performance, without warning, Taiga dashed across the stage and launched himself onto Hokuto’s back.
The audience exploded.
“EHHHHHHHHH?!” Jesse yelled into his mic, doubling over with laughter as Hokuto didn’t even flinch. He simply hooked his arms under Taiga’s legs and carried him like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“Oi, Hokuto!” Jesse teased loudly, grinning at the sea of screaming fans. “Don’t forget to carry your boyfriend properly!”
The crowd’s pitch went from loud to absolutely feral. Fans shrieking so hard the sound echoed across the dome.
Taiga instantly buried his red face into Hokuto’s shoulder, trying to hide, while Hokuto just smirked and tightened his hold, pretending to shush Jesse with one hand.
“Yamete yo,” Hokuto muttered under his breath, but his smile gave him away.
Kochi clapped like he was watching the best drama of the year, while Juri was already egging the fans on: “Minna! Did you see that?! Hokuto really said ‘princess carry next time,’ huh?!”
Chaos. Pure chaos.
Staff side-stage looked like they were seconds away from fainting, but SixTONES themselves were just laughing, leaning into the madness as the arena screamed their lungs out.
And if that wasn’t enough — at their next stop, during a break talk, Hokuto casually draped his arm over Taiga’s shoulders, pulling him close as if it were second nature. The other members went wild, Jesse dramatically fanning himself, Juri yelling into the mic that “KyomoHoku is real!” and Kochi trying to restore order through his laughter.
The chaos only made it worse… or better.
The audience roared with chants of “KyomoHoku! KyomoHoku!” shaking the dome. Taiga buried his face in his hands, but Hokuto? He only smiled wider, as if proud to let the world see.
One evening, weeks after their tour wrapped, Taiga stood in front of their shared closet, frowning as he held up a soft, worn shirt.
“This is mine,” he said. “You stole it and never gave it back. I forgot it even existed.”
“It’s ours now,” Hokuto replied easily, slipping his arms around Taiga from behind.
“You’re disgusting.”
“You love me.” Hokuto leaned down, brushing his nose against Taiga’s cheek, inhaling like he was memorizing the scent.
Taiga flushed and pushed him away with a playful shove. “Unfortunately.” He flicked Hokuto’s forehead before slipping out of the room, ears tinged red.
Hokuto chuckled, touching the spot where Taiga had flicked him. His smile lingered as he watched Taiga’s retreating back; the man who was now, truly, his.
Taiga borrowed plenty of his clothes, whether by accident or on purpose. Hokuto never minded. If anything, it made him happy. Because it meant that even in the middle of separate schedules and busy days, Taiga still carried a piece of him. A quiet proof that their lives had already intertwined beyond untangling.
And somehow, after everything; the pretending, the panicking, the paparazzi, the chaos — this is what they became.
Each other’s constant.
Each other’s calm.
Each other’s always.
Some kind of always.
SixTONES Group Chat
[Jesse]:
Happy one-year anniversary to our favorite fake couple 💍
[Shintaro]:
Fake?? Bro they’re like 5 steps away from being officially married.
[Kochi]:
Y’all ever gonna propose or what?
[Juri]:
Please don’t. I'll cry. And I’m not emotionally available for that.
[Kochi]:
Bro you cry at everything. You cried when your ramen delivery was late.
[Juri]:
IT WAS TRAGIC.
[Shintaro]:
Just adopt another pet together or something already. A turtle. A cursed rabbit. IDK.
[Jesse]:
What about wedding songs? Should we perform Lifetime ? Grand band arrangement version. Ballads, strings, fireworks. It’s a KyomoHoku wedding after all.
[Kochi]:
But our two main singers are missing tho.
[Shintaro]:
Yeah, missing in love with each other 😌
[Juri]:
Imagine the day we perform Lifetime at their wedding with only four people left on stage. Can’t believe it.
[Jesse]:
NO WAIT BETTER IDEA. SixTONES as the priest, choir, and flower boys all at once.
[Kochi]:
I CALL RING BEARER.
[Shintaro]:
I call DJ. I’ll remix Lifetime with trap beats. And I’ll livestream it for the fans.
[Juri]:
No!! Immediate arrest!!
[Jesse]:
I want to throw petals dramatically down the aisle.
[Shintaro]:
Bro you’re 6 feet tall! You’ll look like an attack helicopter with flower petals.
[Kochi]:
💀💀💀
[Taiga]:
Stop being dramatic! We’ll just get matching rings and not tell you tho.
[Hokuto]:
Too late. Already prepared for it. Can’t wait to give you, honey 🫣
[Others]:
YOU WHAT?!!!
[Jesse]:
PARTY TIME. BRINGING CAKE 🎂
[Shintaro]:
NO ESCAPE. WE’RE COMING OVER.
[Kochi]:
WAIT I’M LEGIT CRYING THIS IS LIKE A DRAMA CONFESSION.
[Juri]:
📸 Screenshot. Posted. Viral by midnight.
[Jesse]:
KYOMOHOKU JUST HARD-LAUNCHED IN THE GROUP CHAT 🚨💍
[Shintaro]:
Bro they didn’t even announce it to the public and we’re literally the press conference right now!
[Kochi]:
I’m not sure if this will be a wedding or purely chaos 💀
[Juri]:
Too late. Our manager probably already designing wedding costumes.
[Taiga]:
I hate all of you.
[Hokuto]:
But you love me 😘
Somewhere in a drawer, Hokuto keeps the hoodie Taiga wore on their very first fake date. The beginning of everything — the spark of chaos, the laughter, the mess of confused feelings, the path that somehow, against all odds, led them here.
And in Taiga’s closet hangs the jacket Hokuto draped over his shoulders on that fake date at the convenience store. It was supposed to be temporary, just for show. Yet it became one of Taiga’s favourites, a quiet shield he pulls close whenever he needs comfort, something he reaches for when the world feels too loud. Hokuto never asked for it back, and Taiga never offered.
And somewhere, between crossed-out verses and half-finished melodies, Taiga’s notebook holds a lyric he’s never released; but Hokuto knows it’s about him.
Whenever Taiga hums it under his breath during rehearsals, Hokuto’s chest softens, his lips curving before he can stop them.
Because some things don’t need a debut.
Some things are just theirs.
And for Taiga and Hokuto, that was more than enough.
End.