Chapter Text
Growing up, becoming an idol had never once crossed Momo’s mind.
A rambunctious spirit at heart, his interests always lay in sports and athletics. He dedicated his youth to soccer, and his ambitions were to become team captain, to play in national leagues…
His older sister, Ruri, had been the one geared towards things like movies and flicks and idols. As a teenager, he had hardly paid them much mind, but he liked it because his sister liked it, and it made her happy.
And Momo loves to see his sister happy. He also believed that, at the very least, it’d be better for her to fixate on the men on screen and not frivolous ones she’d meet in her day to day life that he believed she shouldn’t be wasting time on, so that’s that.
(He began to double down on this belief one night after he had rushed out of the bathroom, leaving the bathtub to overflow, due to her calling him in fear of a man following her. It fortunately happened to be an obsessive, yet harmless ex-boyfriend. Momo cautioned his older sister to be more mindful of the type of guys she dates after that night.)
So he would indulge in his sister’s interest in idols from time to time with her. But never once had the thought of becoming one crossed his mind. Not initially.
“Please, don’t ever stop singing,” he cried at Yuki’s door.
Every day, at the same time, he’d knock his door, bow his head, and plead. And Yuki would look down at him with destitute eyes, his posture uncertain and hand tightly clutched around the doorknob. He looks tired. So, so tired. And he’d tell him;
“Go away.”
And he’d slam the door shut.
And Momo would try again the next day.
“Yuki-san, please, don’t stop singing…”
“Don’t you rest? Leave me alone.”
And again.
“Please, sing again…”
And again.
“Please, Yuki-san…”
“Please.”
“You’re incredible on the field, Sunohara, and you’re a fine choice for team captain,” his old soccer coach would praise him. “But you need to watch yourself. The moment you notice that any of your allies are in trouble, your judgment becomes compromised and you immediately get tunnel-vision. You quickly go from being an outstanding and composed team player to an increasingly reckless variable in the play.”
Momo never had the dream of becoming an idol when he was younger. But, as he grew older, he came to learn that life doesn’t always play out the way you dream it to be when you were a child. As a child, he had never imagined sustaining an injury that would shatter his soccer dream right before his eyes. He never dreamed of— of being thrown headfirst into the world of idols and falling in love with it, or— or the injury that Ban-san sustained that would bring an unceremonious end to his career.
(“He’ll be back,” he always promised Yuki in the beginning. “Please keep singing, and he’ll come back to you. I’m sure of it.”)
But growing up, you learn that life charts its own journey that can be separate from the one you desire. And sometimes, you might just jump ship to follow the path that life takes you on.
That path can very much turn everything you know onto its head, too. As a child, Momo had never once believed that he would go from the team captain who gets dragged around to different idol concerts because it makes his sister happy, to suddenly having to say goodbye to the field and taking the risk of singing himself, even to his sister’s discontent.
Growing up, however, you learn that things hardly go your way.
Having to leave his sister and family behind hurt. Later, Momo learned that the road to stardom is a difficult one.
Momo had worked various jobs throughout each and every week to sustain him and Yuki, because, well… they were poor, and so was their agency. He’d go a few days without a proper meal if it meant he could get an extra hour of overtime in, and when he’d come home, he’d hop straight to voice training or exercise to rehabilitate his body whenever he could, even if it was exhausting.
He completely cut off contact with his parents.
But he had Yuki. And as long as he had the luxury of coming home to his bright blue eyes, and of hearing his voice, melodic like December snow gently falling against windchimes, and being greeted— “Welcome home, Momo,”—
As long as he had him, he would never complain.
But, to Momo’s dismay, he further learns that stardom cannot be achieved between two people locked in a small, dingy, sweaty apartment with no connections to other people.
Well, Okarin is helping them in the connections department. Partially. As Re:vale becomes more popular, he’s been helping them land more gigs. With his help as their manager, It doesn’t take entirely too long before Re:vale makes their way onto television shows and billboards and live halls.
So.
To nobody’s surprise, it doesn’t take so long after their boom before their security and standing as a duo under Okazaki Agency becomes jeopardized.
Stemming from Yuki’s work as an actor with strong ties to Hoshikage, their independence from the major empires of the industry is quickly compromised.
And Yuki voices his disdain of being eagerly pursued by Hoshikage.
So Momo decides that they— that he can’t let that happen.
The road to stardom contains many treacherous turns, Momo eventually comes to realize. He learns that the industry is riddled with dirty secrets and unsavory work behind the scenes.
Stars, no matter how brightly they shine in the sky, can always cast a shadow.
Everyone has something to hide.
It isn’t long before Momo finds himself in the hands of Tsukumo Productions.
“Quid pro quo,” Ryo had called it— at least, he thinks so— but at the time, he really, really couldn’t think with the— with the way his body is cold and how he has to force himself to— breathe. There must’ve— must’ve been something in the…food… He’s so out of it and— and yet, he can feel the way his body jolts under every—touch. “I’ve done oh so much for you, Momo. Don’t I deserve a little payment in exchange?”
Momo couldn’t disagree. At least, he couldn’t force the words out of his mouth to— disagree.
When Ryo touched him again, a pathetic and drawn-out cry was elicited from him instead.
A transaction.
That’s what Momo had simply considered it, the first time it happened.
Because, well, Ryo is right! You don’t just ask for favors to secure you and propel you forward in the entertainment industry without providing compensation.
Truly, that’s what many turns that lead to stardom entail. Just— one transaction after another. Don’t they?
Yes, nobody gets to the top by themselves, right? And Re:vale— Re:vale needs all the help they can get.
At the very least, currying favor with Ryo— with Tsukumo will maintain a level of equilibrium in regards to Re:vale’s standing under Okazaki Agency in comparison to Hoshikage and other agencies.
There’s no time to feel ashamed, Momo told himself. There’s no reason to feel ashamed.
Shame isn’t the word Momo would use now, however. When he would— he would lay there, dazed with tears in his eyes the first time it happened—
“You’re an idol, aren’t you Momo?” Ryo would croon in a way that was so sickeningly sweet to the point it would always make his stomach turn. He would let out a content gasp, let his icily cold hands roam, then whisper, low enough to the point that angels up above wouldn’t be able to hear, “sing for me, why don’t you?”
It wasn’t— it wasn’t shame. It was a feeling of vulnerability, he thinks now.
Before, however, the first time it happened, when he still considered it to be a feeling of shame he was supposed to ignore, he wondered why he had suddenly gotten up and left hours later, in the middle of the night to return home. He wondered why—when he had opened the door to see Yuki sitting on the floor surrounded by sheets of scrapped lyrics, when Yuki had looked up to him with striking and anxious eyes— why he had suddenly rushed to the restroom to throw up.
Yuki asked him where had been. Momo had told him he’d gone to dinner with someone at Tsukumo, drank too much, and fell asleep. He assured him he was fine.
He’d never been great at lying to Yuki.
Yuki never pressed him for the truth. Momo took solace in this fact. Especially when it had happened a second time.
“Ryo-san… it—“ Momo’s cries hitched for a moment, before his body slumped deeper onto— it’s soft… a bed? His glassy eyes looked beyond the hazy figure above him, and his nostrils burned from the stench of alcohol. He hiccuped. “…hurts. ’t hurts…”
Ryo momentarily paused in what he’s— what he was doing, before continuing again, rougher, and Momo let out a warbled cry of pain.
“This should be nothing unfamiliar to you, Momo. I see and I hear the way you talk about him.”
Ryo trailed off to let out a sickening, satisfied sigh. “And don’t look at me like I’ve done anything wrong. This is— ah— an exchange. You agreed.”
Ryo’s free hand wandered into Momo’s hair— he had just freshly frosted his ends— and pulled.
Any protests Momo had died in his throat.
The second time, to Momo, was yet another transaction— they were still fresh faces in the entertainment industry. They need all the assistance they can get, and, to fend off against Hoshikage… to protect Yuki… Tsukumo truly is Momo’s best option.
He told himself this the third time, too. And the fourth.
At the point he stopped telling himself anything, however, he stopped counting.