Haruyuki sat down on the black leather chair at the center of the room, the glaring vanity lights around the mirror throwing a soft glow against his face. Two stylists worked swiftly at once—one brushing through his light hair, the other dabbing at his cheeks with powder and blending foundation.
Despite the chatter of the crew and the clinking of makeup brushes, Haruyuki's sharp eyes wandered.
And there he was. Renjiro, standing a little awkwardly near the wall, arms loosely crossed, his brown eyes fixed directly on him. It wasn't a casual glance, not the kind he got from random strangers—it was deeper, focused, almost as if Renjiro was trying to read something beneath the surface.
For a second, Haruyuki's breath hitched.
He was used to being stared at, almost numb to it—the empty admiration of his fans, the cold appraisal of producers, and the scrutinizing gaze of directors. But Renjiro's eyes weren't like theirs. There was no calculation, no forced idolization. Just raw curiosity, mixed with something he couldn't quite name.
Haruyuki tilted his head slightly, letting the stylist adjust his bangs. But his gaze never left Renjiro's face.
Then, slowly—deliberately—his lips curled upward into a faint, knowing smirk.
So, you really can't take your eyes off me, huh?
When the final touch of powder was dusted from his face, his hair perfectly swept back with just the right amount of natural mess, and his outfit tailored cleanly to fit his lean figure, Haruyuki rose from the chair.
The crew stepped back to admire their work—he looked every bit the star they had expected.
With the swagger in his step, Haruyuki approached Renjiro, who was still standing by himself, arms crossed and visibly unimpressed. Haruyuki's lips pulled into that infuriating smug grin.
Renjiro raised a brow, clearly irritated. "What's with that smug look on your face?"
"What do you mean?" Haruyuki leaned forward slightly, his grin widening.
Renjiro gave a rough sigh, almost like a growl. "Whatever. Well, looks like you're all ready for the photoshoot."
"Yeah," Haruyuki replied, shifting his weight to one side. His tone dropped, sly and teasing. "And I'm sure you're gonna be watching me."
Renjiro scoffed immediately. "What? You posing there for the camera and all? I'd rather watch a children's show than this." His smirk mirrored Haruyuki's, mocking and taunting.
For a moment, Haryuki only chuckled under his breath, low and quiet. "Alright then. Enjoy the show, Koizumi."
"Yeah, no, thank you. I'm certain I'll be really bored here. I'd appreciate it if you just let me leave right this instant." Renjiro shot back, his words sharp, though his eyes betrayed a faint glimmer of curiosity.
Unbothered, Haruyuki simply winked and walked away, heading toward the white backdrop where the photographers were waiting.
Renjiro stayed behind, shifting to the corner of the studio where he could keep to himself. Yet he couldn't escape the atmosphere. The entire crew seemed to sparkle with excitement the moment Haruyuki stepped on the set.
Gasps and awestruck whispers filled the room as Haruyuki moved into position, his body language transforming in an instant—poised, commanding, confident. He faced the camera as though it were a person, his gaze sharp and alluring, and when the shutter clicked, it felt as though he was staring right into the hearts of those watching.
"Kyaaa~! Haru is so cool and handsome!"
"I'm so glad I took up this job offer!"
Renjiro rolled his eyes hard, muttering under his breath, "Handsome, huh?" He tried to act as if he didn't care, but the longer his eyes wandered, the more he had to admit: they weren't lying.
Haruyuki was indeed photogenic. His sharp jawline, the way his hair caught the light, his ease in front of the camera—it all blended into something undeniably striking. Renjiro caught sight of the monitor showing the live photos. Each shot looked like it belonged on the cover of a magazine.
"Unbelievable," Renjiro grumble, leaning back against the chair he eventually sank into. "What am I even doing here?"
He let out a long sigh, resting his chin on his hand. His thoughts drifted, and a bittersweet smile tugged at his lips. I should've been at Yugen's house by now, eating those delicious puddings... Auntie's special dessert.
The thought made his stomach ache with longing. Closing his eyes, Renjiro tried to savor the memory of the taste, almost tricking himself into imagining the soft sweetness on his tongue.
Just as he was sinking into his daydream, a hand suddenly tugged on his shoulder.
[!!]
Renjiro jolted upright, eyes wide, his pulse racing.
"Oh, I'm sorry," a soft voice said quickly.
Renjiro blinked and turned his head. Standing beside him was a woman—gentle featured, her smile warm and apologetic.
"You... startled me," Renjiro admitted, letting out a sharp breath of relief as he stood up from his seat.
"My apologies," she said kindly. "You were sitting alone, looking out of place, so I thought... maybe you were one of the new staff here."
Renjiro shook his head, chuckling lightly as the tension slipped away. "Ah, no. I just... got dragged here against my will." He shrugged, forcing a small smile to reassure her. "But it's fine. I at least could sit in this chair, and everyone seemed nice to me."
The staff did offer him snacks and even thought he would join Haruyuki, but eventually, they stopped insisting on giving him a make-over.
For a moment, Renjiro studied her. Who is this woman?
The woman blinked once, twice, and for a moment, she stood frozen, staring directly at him.
Renjiro felt the weight of her gaze and shifted in his weight. He smiled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Um..." He didn't know whether to move or remain still. Was there something wrong?
She's really staring at me...
The intensity of her stare only made him fidget more.
Finally, her lips parted, and a slow, quiet voice escaped. "Excuse me, I'm sorry for staring so hard—that was really rude of me, but are you..."
Renjiro's eyebrows shot up with anticipation, waiting for her to finish. "Y-Yes?"
"You must be Haru's friend, right?" She asked, her tone suddenly lightening as though she'd just pieced a puzzle together.
"Oh..." Renjiro dragged the word out, buying himself time. "Friend... right. Something like that."
"I see," she said, her eyes brightening almost instantly. "My, where's my manner?..."
Her expression shifted into excitement and delight. "My name is Saki. I'm Haruyuki's manager."
Renjiro bowed politely. "Nice to meet you. I'm Koizumi Renjiro."
"I know."
"... Huh?" Renjiro blinked, caught completely off guard.
Saki smiled warmly, her tone almost playful. "Haru has told me a lot about you."
Renjiro's mouth hung open for a second before words finally stumbled out. "Really? He... did?"
"Yes!" Saki perked up even more, clasping her hands together. "I'm so glad he made a friend at school. I was honestly worried he might not get along with anyone since he's new. But I see that isn't the case at all."
"I'm so happy he finally has someone like you, Koizumi-kun."
Renjiro gave a sheepish smile, laughing nervously as he scratched the side of his cheek. "Hahaha... you're right, Saki-san."
Meanwhile, his thoughts were in complete chaos.
That guy told his manager we're friends?! But we're not even that close! More like—that guy just like to piss me off whenever we see each other!
Renjiro sighed inwardly, shoulders dropping slightly as he glanced toward the direction where Haruyuki was still dazzling the camera with another sharp pose.
Just what is that idiot playing at?
While Haruyuki was occupied with the camera flashes and the directions being thrown at him from every corner of the studio, Saki stayed behind near Renjiro. She seemed determined to keep him company, perhaps noticing how out of place he looked in a sea of professionals buzzing around their star.
The two started chatting casually. Saki was surprisingly easy to talk to—her cheerful and approachable demeanor made Renjiro relax almost instantly. She asked him about school, what kind of classes he liked, and even asked him about whether Haruyuki was behaving properly as a classmate.
Renjiro chuckled, answering honestly but with his usual playful sarcasm, which made Saki laugh.
Soon, the tension Renjiro had been carrying faded, and he found himself laughing along with her like they were old acquaintances.
Not far away, Haruyuki's eyes wandered toward them during a brief pause in the shoot. His smile faltered in fraction for a second. There, just a few meters away, was Renjiro laughing comfortably beside Saki. They looked like they had clicked instantly, as if they had known each other far longer than he and Renjiro ever had.
His brows drew slightly toward the center. The expression wasn't sharp enough to call annoyance, but it wasn't neutral either. Something unsettled him.
Jealousy? The thought sprang into his head before he could stop it.
Jealousy from what exactly?! He didn't know.
It was true, he and Renjiro weren't that close.
Sure, we had spent time playing games together once...
He had managed to drag Renjiro into tagging along here today, but that hardly counted as a bond worth envying. And yet... seeing Renjiro of all people—someone who was supposed to be close to him—laughs so freely with his manager sparked something he couldn't put into words.
His chest felt light. His throat dry.
Tch... what am I even thinking?
Haruyuki gave his head a small shake, forcing himself back to reality as the photographer called his name.
Focus! You have to concentrate. Now's not the time for anything else. Get it together, Haruyuki!
He drew in a quiet breath, then let his practiced smile return as he turned back toward the camera, burying the strange feeling that lingered stubbornly at the back of his mind.
After the long photoshoot finally wrapped up, Haruyuki dragged himself into his dressing room. The studio lights, the constant flashing cameras, the endless poses—it all weighed down on him now that the adrenaline had faded. He slumped heavily into the chair before the wide mirror, leaning back until his head rested against the top of the seat. His eyes fluttered shut as he released a low, tired sigh.
A sudden knock echoed on the door.
Without opening his eyes, he muttered, his voice flat, "What is it? I'm tired right now."
The door creaked open, followed by the sound of footsteps entering.
"If this is about that thing with my father," Haruyuki continued with his eyes still closed, his chin tilted upward, "I already spoke to him on the phone, Saki. No need to concern yourself with that damn old man."
"What are you talking about?"
The voice was not Saki's.
His eyes snapped open. Upside down in his view, a familiar figure stood there—arms crosses, expression somewhere between curiosity and irritation.
"Koizumi?!" Haruyuki bolted upright in his chair, his voice rising.
Renjiro raised a brow. "I have no intention of getting myself involved with your problem. Let alone a family matter."
"O-Of course not..." Haruyuki stammered, quickly averting his gaze. "What are you even doing here?"
Renjiro stepped closer, holding up a small plastic bag. "If you're looking for Saki-san, she went to get something. She told me to give you this though."
Haruyuki reached out warily, taking the bag from his hands. Inside were a bottle of strawberry-flavored milk and a packet of his favorite snack—comfort items he often craved after shoots.
He froze for a second, staring at the bag as though it was something more than just a snack. "... Thanks," he mumbled, quieter than usual, his tone carrying a faint trace of surprise.
"Sure," Renjiro said casually, shrugging his shoulders. "But don't thank me. Say that to your manager. She's the one who got that for you, not me."
Haruyuki's lips twitched at the corner, a soft almost-smile trying to break through his exhaustion. He lowered his gaze, his fingers brushing against the cold milk bottle.
"... Still," he murmured under his breath, not quite looking at Renjiro, "It's not bad... having you bring it to me."
His fingers tightening around the plastic bag. He didn't move, didn't say a word—just kept staring blankly at its contents as if it held the answers he couldn't voice.
Renjiro frowned, brows knitting together as he studied him. The guy was usually quick to retort or throw something smug back at him, but right now... nothing. He shifted his weight and finally spoke.
"And here I thought I'd get to know you better."
Haruyuki's head snapped up, his eyes widening slightly at Renjiro's words.
"After all," Renjiro continued, folding his arms, "that was your reason for dragging me here, wasn't it?"
The silence between them grew heavy. Haruyuki's lips trembled faintly before pressing together in a slow, pensive purse. His voice came out softer, lower, as though he were speaking to himself more than to Renjiro.
"That was what I had in mind at first..."
Renjiro tilted his head. "...?"
Haruyuki let out a small breath, almost weary. "Even though I wanted us to know each other deeper, I realized... I know nothing about you. Not a single thing. And maybe that's because we're not close enough to even take this... 'getting to know each other better' seriously."
Renjiro raised an eyebrow. What is this guy even on about now?
He sighed, scratching his head. "Look, if you wanted to be my friend, you could've just said so straight. I'd be glad to know more about you, you know."
Haruyuki didn't answer right away. His gaze dropped, his hands clutching tighter at the bag. Finally, a broken murmur escaped.
"I... I don't think I want to be that anymore."
Renjiro's eyes widened. "Huh? What do you mean?" His voice was sharp, incredulous, like Haruyuki had just spoken in riddles.
But Haruyuki didn't answer him. Instead, his thoughts churned violently inside. Despite the short time he'd known Renjiro, the limited days they'd hung out together, he'd never felt so strangely at ease with someone before.
Being around Renjiro felt natural—even when the boy's sarcasm and sharp tongue got under his skin. He should've been annoyed. And yet, he found himself drawn in by every exchange, every glance, every offhand comment.
There was a longing in him he couldn't explain. A craving for Renjiro's attention, for his acknowledgement... and though it should have been enough, something inside him wanted more. Someone selfish. Something he couldn't put a name to.
What exactly is this?
Haruyuki lifted a hand, fingers brushing against his lips as though searching for the shape of that elusive feeling.
Meanwhile, Renjiro stared at him, completely bewildered. "Ah—hello? Dude, you still there?"
No response.
"... Seriously, you lagging or something?"
Haruyuki remained locked in his thoughts, his eyes distant.
Renjiro groaned, throwing up his hands.
"Ugh! Hey! What the hell's wrong with you?! Haruyuki—"
The words came out raw, and before Renjiro could react, Haruyuki moved. In one swift motion, he shot up, his hand snapping forward to grab Renjiro's wrist. With surprising force, he shoved him back.
BAM!
Renjiro's back hit the wall, the impact sending a grunt tearing from his throat. "Damn...!" He winced, glaring at the boy pinning him.
Haruyuki stood close, his chest heaving, his hand locking Renjiro's wrist firmly against the wall. His eyes burned with a wild intensity, so unlike the composed mask he wore in front of others.
For a moment, the air in the room shifted—thick and electric.
Haruyuki finally opened his mouth, voice low but sharp.
"You're so noisy." His eyes narrowed into a cold, serious stare.
Renjiro shot his own eyes wide, his chest flaring with irritation. "Oh yeah?! Well, you weren't answering—I thought you'd stopped breathing for a second!" He barked back, his tone caught between anger and disbelief.
"Jeez..." Renjiro exhaled roughly, running a hand through his hair in frustation. "I don't know what's gotten into you! First you drag me all the way here, then you shove me into a wall?! What's next, huh?" His glare sharpened. "Are you already losing your mind or something?"
For a moment, Haruyuki just stared at him in silence, his grip tight around Renjiro's wrist. But then, slowly, his fingers loosened, the pressure disappearing. He let him go.
"I wasn't going crazy," Haruyuki said, his voice quieter this time. "I was... thinking about something."
Renjiro scoffed, folding his arms tight against his chest. "Like hell I'd believe that!"
"It's the truth..." Haruyuki murmured, turning his back on him as if to shield his own expression. He faced forward, shoulders stiff. "I'm sorry if I couldn't perform well enough for you to... get to know me. Or to understand what I do in life. I'll—"
His words caught for a second before he forced them out, "I'll be sure to give you a summary instead."
Renjiro blinked at him. His lips tugged down into a deeper frown. "... Never mind that. I wasn't really expecting anything from this anyway. And what do you mean by 'summary'? Of your life?"
Haruyuki's mouth pressed into a thin line, his jaw tense. He didn't argue. He couldn't.
"... I'm gonna go out for a bit," Renjiro muttered, stepping toward the door.
As his hand reached the knob, though, he hesitated. Casting Haruyuki one last glance, his voice softened.
"We could go somewhere nice next time."
Haruyuki froze. "... What?"
"Somewhere we can play." Renjiro's tone brightened slightly, trying to smooth over the strange tension between them. "Oh, that's right—the arcade. Or maybe a cafè. I know a good one."
He shifted his weight, lips curling into a small smirk. "That way, it'll feel more casual and natural. Just like friends hanging out, you know? We could talk about a lot of things... and actually get to know each other better."
Haruyuki's heart slammed against his ribs.
"... So," Renjiro tilted his head, waiting for a reaction, "how about it?"
But no words came.
Haruyuki's lips parted, then shut again, as though something had gotten caught in his throat. His pulse was racing too fast to let him speak.
"I'll be out for a minute," he finally said, his voice flat—before he quickly pushed past, slipping out the door.
Renjiro blinked, stunned. "Wait—you're just gonna leave like that? After what I said just now?!"
The door shut with a heavy thud.
Behind it, Haruyuki pressed his back against the wood, his chest heaving. His hands shot up to cover his mouth, his cheeks already tinged a furious shade of pink. His ears burned, his neck flushed crimson.
His eyes trembled as he replayed Renjiro's words in his head.
"Haruyuki, you crazy idiot," he muttered to himself, his voice muffled through his hands. "Why the hell did you do that just now?!"
He slid down the door slowly until he hit the floor, his knees folding under him. His palms dragged down his face as his breaths grew shallow.
And then it hit him.
That restlessness. That selfish urge to have Renjiro's attention. That strange fire which flared whenever he was ignored, or when Renjiro easily gotten close to his manager.
It wasn't just for fun.
"No way..." He whispered, his throat tightening. His eyes widened in shock, as though the realization itself was too dangerous to say aloud.
"I think..." His voice broke, "... this feeling is serious. For real."
The words echoed back at him, small and fragile in the dressing room's empty corridor. Yet the weight of them left him trembling.