Chapter Text
3am.
A phone won't stop ringing.
Chikage dug a hand under his pillow to answer it, eyes not registering the number.
"Hello?"
"Did I wake you?"
He sat up straight in bed, sleep driven from his mind.
"...what do you want."
A laugh. "I'm coming to see you, April. It's been too long."
"Look, I really don't have the time—"
"Make some, then."
The call cut, and Chikage was left in the dark.
"...secret agents."
Tsuzuru nodded, apparently too sleepy to pick up on the edge to Chikage's voice.
"Really."
“What’s the problem, senpai?” said Itaru, not looking up from the script, just barely holding back a smile. “You’ll only be acting. There’s nothing wrong, is there?”
Chikage glanced from Azuma fluttering his eyelashes to Hisoka surreptitiously raising the script to cover his face, and sighed. “I guess not.”
As expected, a good chunk of his character’s interactions were with Hisoka, to Chikage’s displeasure. Keeping anyone from questioning why he was working in Mankai was one thing—it was easy enough to say that it was how he was gathering information around Veludo Way, the way that August would integrate himself into a community and learn about its inhabitants. Keeping anyone from finding Hisoka was another—Hisoka always kept a relatively low profile, and even with the occasional Winter play shooting his popularity up, there wasn't much for Chikage to worry about.
Combining the two, on the other hand, was sure to endanger the company.
Skimming through the script, his concerns began to grow. Chikage’s relationship with Hisoka in the play wasn’t that different from what they grew up with—they work together and rely on one another, though they don’t always get along, and it’s the death of someone important to both of them that drives them apart.
He looked back over at Itaru, leisurely flipping pages and muttering lines to himself. In the role of definitely-not-August, was this man. Chikage raised an eyebrow. Itaru playing a soft-hearted man with a sleepy smile whose easy-going demeanour hid something else entirely wasn’t too far off the mark, but the setting drove it just a little too close to home.
“So I’m kind of playing Chikage-san's dad, then. How the tables have turned, right?" Itaru grinned.
On the other side of the room, and co-lead, was Azuma—which worried him.
"Hmm, would that make me their mother, then?" Azuma tilted his head lightly. "It isn't said explicitly, but our characters have...something, Itaru." He laughed, behind pale delicate fingers.
"Azuma-san, it's not like I haven't played someone's husband in this company before, but please be gentle."
Chikage wasn't amused. "Director…"
Izumi looked up. "Chikage-san, if there's really something bothering you about the script, you can ask Tsuzuru-kun to change it?"
If anyone in this room knew how he felt, it was her and Hisoka, and Hisoka wasn't about to complain. Chikage had a feeling that Winter had already known far too much for far too long because Hisoka couldn't shut his mouth around them.
But making too much of an issue would be suspicious in itself, and if there was anything he learned about Mankai in the two or so years he'd worked there, it was that if anyone thought you had any worries about anything, they would not leave you alone for an instant.
In that sense, it was very much like home.
"Not too much work today?"
Reluctantly, Chikage made an appointment with that man. Better that than have him end up going directly to the theatre.
"Finished what I had to, so." He slid a small box across the cafe table. "Sorry about skipping out last time."
"It's alright, we're here now." July smiled, gloved fingers tucking long hair behind his ear. "Is this for me?"
Chikage nodded, as he opened the box.
Technically, Hisoka had bought the silver moon earrings inside for him, but Chikage certainly wasn't going to use them. Besides, Hisoka's relationship with July was less complicated, and even though he didn't remember at the time, perhaps it was a faint memory in the back of his mind that persuaded him to buy the pair.
"That's so sweet. You never used to do anything nice for me." With a laugh, he slipped the box into his coat pocket.
Chikage peered at the table through his empty glass. "So, what are you doing here again, Ju—"
July made a shushing gesture. "That’s a spoiler, now.”
Continuing, he put a hand to his cheek. “Can’t I just come to see you for fun? With those two and now even you gone, it's too quiet."
"I'm gone for a different reason from them, you know.” Placing the glass down, Chikage clicked his tongue. “Don’t you have more important things to do?”
“Don’t you?”
A lull.
As July stared off into the distance, he sighed, absently running a finger across his earring. “Three years is a long time to be off the grid for vengeance, April.”
Turning back to Chikage, he went on. “It must be hard, between what happened to August and everyone thinking that December’s turned on us, but isn't it about time you let them go? Assuming December is alive, he clearly doesn’t want to be found. Besides, you don’t really believe that he did it, do you?”
You did, thought Chikage.
“I’m just worried about you. I can’t imagine what’s been going on in your head all this time, and aren’t we family too?”
“There’s nothing for you to be worried about. I can take care of myself.” It occurred to Chikage how much he sounded like one of the teenagers in Mankai hiding something from the adults, and he winced.
As if in response to his thoughts, July laughed softly. “Oh, I know. You’re an adult, and well-trained thanks to who raised you, but I can’t help but think of that little kid sulking in a hideout waiting for everyone else to come home.”
“Well, at least call once in a while? Just so we know that you’re still alive.”
He stood up to leave, pausing behind Chikage’s chair, one hand on his shoulder. “Tell December I said thank you for the gift.”
“What do you mean, they’re not coming back.”
April’s unsure how to respond. For about a day or so, he hadn't been sure how to respond to anything at all.
Nothing seems real.
“I said August...wasn’t coming back, and it means exactly what you think it means, April. These things happen, you had to know this.”
July sounds as nonchalant as usual, though somewhere in his head, April can feel a tinge of something else in his voice.
“And December?”
The silence is deafening.
“...according to the investigation conducted into that mission’s failure, there is a high chance that December has betrayed us, giving out classified information leading to August’s deat—”
“Stop! Don’t say that!”
“I’m not telling you this because I want to,” July snaps, briefly shocking April into keeping quiet. “The three of you were so close and this is an outcome that we have to prepare for but hope never happens, but it has.”
“Please bring December back, unharmed. Remember that part, alright? We have to be able to still talk to him.”
April nods, before remembering he’s not on camera. “Yeah.”
“If you can’t do it, someone else can come over there and look for him instead.”
“...no, no. I will.”
“April,” July calls, gently. “I know August wouldn’t have wanted it to come to this, but you’ll be doing this for him too.”
“...got it. Bye.”
“Bye.”
As April goes to close the laptop, he hears a noise. He thought July had hung up, but it sounded like he hasn’t just yet, if only by accident.
“...”
Muffled shuffling.
A sigh.
Barely audible, a single word, through quiet shaking breaths.
“...August…”
“—e.”
Chikage held on to his script, unthinkingly reading the same line over and over.
“Chikage?”
Snapping out of his daze, he blinked. “Azuma-san…? Did you need something?”
“Mm…” Azuma’s shoulders went up, his fingers laced together. “I heard from Itaru you haven’t been sleeping so well lately? More so than usual for you, anyhow.”
Sure enough, Chikage had been keeping himself awake later and later, past Itaru’s midnight mid-game snacks, into the sunrise setting the clouds outside his window alight, throwing himself into any work he could get his hands on to keep himself busy. He was sure he could keep his presence to a minimum in their room, but it seemed as though Itaru had noticed nonetheless.
“I’m fine,” he said, flipping the pages of the script back to the front. “You don’t need to sleep next to me, if that’s what you two were thinking of.”
Azuma laughed. “He’s worried about you in his own way too. And, if you don’t want to sleep with me—” here he had to pause, one hand over his mouth, eyes shining, “—then would you mind just having a drink together?”
“I know there’s a lot you can’t tell me, but sometimes it helps to sit with someone other than just your own thoughts for a little while.” Azuma touched his shoulder, warm and light. “You’re the leader for this round but you shouldn’t have to do it alone. Isn't that what I'm here for?”
“I’ll think about it.” Chikage flashed a smile. “Thanks, Azuma-san.”
As if that response wasn’t quite what he was hoping for, Azuma gave another little shrug, turning back to their director.
Across the room, Hisoka looked up, shaking off sleep.
“It’s so hard looking for references for secret agent-themed stuff that aren’t boring or really thirsty,” said Yuki, unfolding the new costumes and handing them out.
“Well, in theory, a spy would look like anyone on the street, wouldn’t they?” Chikage buttoned up his shirt as Itaru began to snicker.
“Like you do, senpai?”
Chikage raised an eyebrow. “Very funny.”
Attempting to lift Hisoka by the back of his hood, Yuki made a noise of disapproval. “That’s what I mean, though. Regular office worker. It’s either that or all black, so this is more interesting to look at, at least.”
Rubbing his eyes, Hisoka tilted his head. As Azuma helped him up, he appeared deep in thought, looking up and down until the words came to him. “...Yuki, do you still have clip on earrings?”
“I might, from Runway. Why?”
He frowned. “I feel like...Azuma’s missing...something.”
You don’t even remember what you’re thinking about, thought Chikage. He took off his glasses, waving off Izumi asking if he could see. From what he could tell, Hisoka’s time in the lead during Risky Game certainly woke up memories in his mind, but to Chikage it was a cruel use of such recollection.
After a few minutes, Yuki returned with a pair of earrings. “Azunee, these are the ones I used, just so I can see if the dangly earrings look alright with everything else. I’ll look for new ones if they do.”
Azuma put them on, brushing his hair behind one ear to keep it from getting in the way since he wasn’t tying it up.
“Huh. I guess Hisoka was right, this does seem better.” Yuki crossed his arms. “I’ll try to look for a pair that suits you more, though.”
Pleased, Azuma turned to Chikage.
“How do I look?”
“I’m home!”
August’s voice rings through the entryway, back from a night out gathering information.
“Welcome back…” “Welcome home, August.”
December and April greet him, a habit lovingly drilled into their heads.
July is there too, forming an unconventional group. “You know, I will never understand your fixation with acting out a little family every time you come back from a mission.”
August looks at him, eyebrows raised, his mouth turning up just the slightest.
It takes only a second for July to relent, shaking his head. “Welcome back, August.”
“Thank you, July.” His smile is bright, warm, and readily lights up the room. He opens his bag, taking out some sweets for December and snacks for April.
“Do you really have the time to be buying souvenirs?” April says, though his hands are safely slipping the packet away for later use.
Putting his hand in his coat pocket, August shakes his head. “It’s fine? I don’t think i was very conspicuous about it.”
April doesn’t take his eyes off August as he glides over to July—mentally drawing out the space between the two of them and how little there is, watching July's expression soften as August gets closer, gentler than ever—he feels almost as though he should be looking away, but he can’t bring himself to.
“Do you have anything for me, then?” July flutters his eyelashes, to August’s amusement and April’s distaste.
August drops what looks like a small chip into his palm, carefully curling July's fingers around it with his hands. “That’s for you, and, something else.” He takes out a small box, opening it to reveal a pair of earrings.
“Oh!” Tiny chains of cascading stars dangle from gloved fingertips, July's golden eyes shining. “Thank you, August.”
“I passed by them in a stall and thought you might like them,” says August, one of his hands still around July’s, only slipping away to let him put away the little chip and switch out his current earrings for the new pair.
Sweeping back his long hair, he tilts his head with a smile. “Am I pretty?”
“Yes, yes.”
August laughs, and there’s a twinge in April’s chest.
Slowly, Chikage nodded.
“You look great, Azuma-san.”
“You say it’s for my own good, but you never even considered how I felt, did you?”
As always, Tsuzuru’s writing was just a little too on the nose. Azuma, as Chikage’s parental figure, using him against Itaru without a thought as to what Chikage wanted to do for himself.
Surely, he thought, not all motherly types were like that? For other people, anyway, but in his own mind, anyone that matched certain criteria was someone to be wary of. Most of the time that did unfortunately refer to girls, but sometimes other people counted as well.
“Tch. You don’t know any better, you ungrateful child.”
Azuma’s lip curled, and Chikage noted how disconcerting it was to have the gap in their heights closed with Azuma in heels. He figured Yuki had done this to make him more intimidating, especially towards Itaru and Hisoka, but being nearly eye-to-eye during their confrontations was something else.
“I don’t know better? You’re the one who decided to interfere in my life without knowing anything about me," Chikage retorted, the lines leaving a bitter taste in his mouth as he pushed Azuma away. In his preoccupation, he must have applied too much force, causing Azuma to stumble.
“—ah, sorry, should I dial it back?”
Quickly recovering, Azuma shook his head. “It probably looked worse than it was, but it’s a good thing this is just a dress rehearsal.”
“Alright, can we have a break for a minute?” Izumi called.
While the others dispersed, she waved over Azuma and Chikage. "Chikage-san, is there something on your mind?"
He shifted on his feet. “Just work, mostly. I've been really busy, and I’m trying not to let it get to my acting as well, but looks like I haven't done a good job of that, huh?"
Izumi seemed thoughtful. "Is there anything that Itaru-san could possibly help you with?"
"No, I wouldn't want to put anything more on him, though I see where you're coming from."
"Can I say something?" Azuma hummed. "I don't know if this is related to what's happening in your office, but lately our scenes feel like you aren't talking to...me."
"I guess that should be obvious since you aren't, really, but more than that, it's…" He tilted his head to one side, running his fingers through his hair. "Maybe my character reminds you of someone?"
"We might be in the same scene, but you're always somewhere else." Chikage began to turn away from Azuma's curious yellow eyes, searching for an answer in his face. "And just like our lines, I don't know much about you, Chikage. So wherever you’re going, it’s hard for me to follow."
"Is that so…" Izumi looked up at the two of them in turn, and Chikage wondered how well she had learned to see through him, if at all. "That could be an issue."
Azuma smiled, shaking his hair out a little. "Well, maybe I should just try harder to understand him? I have to do my best too, as co-lead."
"Yes, but—"
Before Izumi could finish her sentence, Chikage interrupted. "Don't worry, Director, we'll work it out as we go along."
Her brow creased, but she nodded. The two of them were adults who could solve their own problems, weren't they? There was no need for her to get involved—aside from the fact that she was their director and was relying on them to make the play run smoothly, but there were other ways of going about that, Chikage reasoned.
"That's all for now, then. Thank you both."
At her words, Chikage slipped out, leaving Azuma and Izumi to their thoughts.