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The pop-up boutique sat in a strange limbo between glamorous and void of personality.
Polished marble floors. Soft gold lighting to accentuate lighter skin tones. Furniture that looked expensive but felt one hard touch away from buckling, like it knew it would be abandoned by what's currently popular in a matter of days.
Tamaki sprawled across a velvet couch next to the changing rooms as if staging a protest against the very store itself.
“I’m boooooored.” His voice stretched across the syllables to accentuate his point.
Riku, seated beside him with a shopping bag perched neatly on his knees, gave a helpless little laugh. “Tama, we’ve only been out for, like, an hour.”
“Yeah.” Tamaki replied flatly. “An hour of looking at shirts. Pants. Other shirts. Pants pretending to be different pants. Shoes that look like they were made out of some construction site debris.” He complained as he pointed at the offending pair of shoes. Could they even be called “shoes” when the build was made up of mostly EVA foam.
Sougo stood nearby with a few garment bags draped over one arm and a calm expression that was beginning to strain at the edges. “We were selecting stage casuals for the promotional shoot tomorrow morning remember? It’s important, as MEZZO, that we look coordinated.”
“I am coordinated.” Tamaki muttered. “On my gaming console.”
Riku bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.
The two had a rare morning off before tomorrow’s shoot and small concert with the rest of IDOLISH7 in the evening. Not enough time to go sightseeing. Not enough time to get wrapped up in a tourist attraction either. Just enough time to wander nearby the hotel they were staying in and attempt to feel like normal twenty-somethings.
Riku happened to be awake at the same time and was promptly invited by the two to join them. He had been so happy to be included.
Which, then, had somehow turned into Tamaki being dragged through shop after shop to what was now a boutique across the street from the hotel that smelled like sandalwood and pretentiousness.
Sougo pulled Tamaki off the couch with a strained smile as he led the two idols out of the shop. Posture elegant even while juggling garment bags and shopping totes. The fresh air, a welcomed change to the stuffy incense prior. “We’re nearly finished. If we stop by one more store for—”
He paused.
Tamaki’s head had lifted.
Eyes sharpened.
Body slowly rotating toward a cacophony of sounds meant to entice children like a sunflower reaching for the sun.
A distant chorus of electronic chimes. Digital explosions. Upbeat jingles layered over the mechanical thunks of arcade machines. Bright neon flickered through the nearby glass trying to hypnotize its onlookers into becoming patrons.
Tamaki took a step.
“No.” Sougo said instantly.
Calm.
Firm.
Predictive.
Tamaki had not even spoken yet.
“No?” Tamaki echoed. “You don’t even know what I’m gonna say.”
“I do.”
“You don’t.”
“You’re going to ask if we can go into the arcade instead of shopping.”
Tamaki turned slowly toward him, betrayed by the accuracy. “…Maybe.” He admitted while tapping his index fingers together and giving Sogo a sheepish smile.
Sougo’s eyes were gentle but unyielding. “We can’t. We might get noticed. And Riku needs to rest. We all have a performance tomorrow. Our center needs to be in good condition.”
Riku blinked at the word center like it was a heavy hat placed on his head.
“I’m okay though!” He said quickly. “I took my meds this morning and I slept really well. And we’re not performing until tomorrow evening, so—” He looked at Sougo with determination in his eyes “Tama has been so good and patient. And it’s not even eleven yet. We could just play a few games and then leave.”
Tamaki slowly, reverently, turned to Riku.
There it was.
The expression.
The gentle tilt of Riku’s head. The hopeful eyes that made people want to hand him the world wrapped in red ribbon.
Sougo inhaled, preparing a rebuttal.
Before a single syllable could escape him though, Tamaki lunged.
He grabbed Riku’s wrist with one hand and Sougo’s sleeve with the other and began dragging both of them toward the doors with the unstoppable momentum of a golden retriever that had spotted an open field.
“JUST A FEW GAMES!” Tamaki declared. “IN AND OUT. NINJA STYLE.”
“Tama, please—” Sougo started.
Too late.
The arcade doors slid open with an enthusiastic whoosh and they were swallowed by neon.
Carpet cleaner, sugar, and electricity hit their noses first the moment they walked in.
Rows upon rows of machines blinked and chimed. Screens flashed in rainbow cycles. A ceiling of colorful bulbs pulsed faintly overhead like a digital starry sky.
Tamaki stopped dead in the entrance.
His face lit up with such pure, unfiltered joy that it could have powered the entire building.
“…Heaven.” He whispered.
Riku laughed softly, eyes sparkling as he took it all in. “Wow. It’s been so long since I’ve been in one of these.”
Sougo, ever vigilant, scanned the space. Morning crowds were light. Mostly teenagers skipping school responsibilities and a few tourists.
No immediate signs of fans.
He exhaled, just a little. They'd show up soon since there was a concert tomorrow. They've honestly been very lucky so far.
“Very well.” He said. “A short visit. We remain mindful of our surroundings, we’ll play a few games and leave immediately if it becomes crowded.”
Tamaki saluted without listening. Already racing to the counter and speaking with an employee.
Sougo let out a sigh. “I'm going to regret this aren't I?”
Riku only chuckled in response.
After the machine chimed when a credit card was tapped at the counter, the taller idol excitedly ran back to them and handed his friends cards that were topped up with credits.
Sougo blinked in confusion when he too was handed a card. “I’m not—”
Tamaki was already halfway to the nearest machine, hand pulling Sougo along with a happy dog-like canter.
They began with Skee-Ball.
“Show us what you got, Sou-chan.” Tamaki said, arms folded with mock seriousness.
Sougo gently placed his bags on one of the lanes not in use and tapped the prepaid arcade card at Tamaki’s insistence, selecting a lane. The machine hummed. Tiny balls lined up, ready for launch.
He rolled the first one.
Perfect arc.
Clean landing.
High point zone.
Riku’s eyes widened. “Whoa~”
Second ball. Same result.
Third, fourth and fifth.
Each throw landed with quiet precision, as if guided by invisible threads.
Tamaki’s jaw slowly lowered.
Sougo finished the round with a calm final toss and stepped back as tickets began to spill from the machine in an enthusiastic waterfall.
“…Sou-chan.” Tamaki said slowly. “What?”
Sogo tilted his head. “Hm?”
“WHAT WAS THAT?!”
“I simply aimed.”
“That's not "simply aiming". That's some kind of secret rich-person training isn't it.”
Riku clapped softly, delighted. “Sogo, you’re amazing!”
A faint blush touched Sougo’s cheeks. “It’s just a matter of dexterity.”
Tamaki narrowed his eyes.
Then he turned toward the basketball machine next to them.
“My turn.”
The basketball game lit up with triumphant music as Tamaki grabbed the first ball.
He shot.
Missed.
Second shot.
Missed again.
“…Warm-up.” He muttered.
Then something clicked.
Shot after shot began to land. Not perfect, but determined. Each basket accompanied by increasingly aggressive focus.
Riku cheered. “Go, Tama!”
Sougo watched with polite interest.
By the end, Tamaki stood panting slightly as the final score flashed.
A few points lower than Sougo’s Skee-Ball total.
Silence.
“Again.”
Sougo shook his head. “Don’t be a sore loser Tama–”
Tamaki swiped Sougo’s card and restarted the Skee-Ball game at the same time he restarted the basketball game. “AGAIN!” He challenged as he picked up the basketball and began tossing with an unusual amount of focus.
Sougo just shook his head at his partner's stubbornness but ultimately gave in. Picking up the ball and throwing it with not much thought in accuracy this time. Knowing full well Tamaki would need a victory if they were going to leave on Sougo’s terms.
A few minutes later the machines chimed once again with an abundance of positive music and a large cash out of tickets.
Then Tamaki raised both arms.
“VICTORY.”
Sougo blinked. “We were here to have fun and de-stress, remember?”
“I WON, SOU-CHAN.”
Sougo smiled patiently. “Congratulations.”
Tamaki glowed.
He rode that victory high until he heard the sound of failure drifting from a nearby machine. Followed by a sad; “Uwaaah~”
Both of them turned.
Riku stood at a Whack-A-Mole cabinet, holding the foam hammer with visible reluctance. The round chiming in with a low score flashing across the screen.
He pouted gently at the cartoon moles retreating into their holes.
“They’re so cute.” He said mournfully. “I feel bad hitting them.”
Tamaki and Sougo exchanged a look.
They watched as Riku kept trying.
Missing most of them.
He apologized softly to one he accidentally bonked too hard.
When the machine dispensed a tragically small string of tickets, he stared at them with mild despair.
“…I wanted to do better.” He admitted. “But they were too cute.”
Tamaki’s expression softened instantly.
Without a word, he tore off his entire stack of hard-earned tickets from the machine and dropped them into Riku’s hands.
Sougo followed suit, adding his considerably smaller pile.
Riku blinked down at the sudden abundance. “Eh? Wait, no, you guys earned these!”
Tamaki shrugged. “I’m not here for prizes.”
Sougo nodded. “We came here to have fun.”
Riku stared at them.
Then his face lit up like the sunrise.
“Then maybe… maybe I can treat you two to a parfait before going back to the hotel as thanks.”
Tamaki nodded his head vigorously at the idea.
“Sure.” Sougo agreed as he checked the time on his phone. Glad that this place wasn’t going to keep them hostage with their manipulative tactics. He picked up his items and Riku’s bag, which had been placed against the whack-a-mole game, as he watched Tamaki drag Riku to the prize counter. Probably already excited for the parfaits. He could be so single minded at times.
Riku bounced slightly with each step, tickets clutched carefully.
“I hope they have something cute,” Riku said. “Maybe a plushie.”
“What are you hoping to find?” Sougo asked.
Riku hesitated, then smiled softly. “An otter?, maybe?”
Tamaki tilted his head. “Otter?”
Sougo’s voice was gentle. “Is that your favorite animal?”
Riku shook his head, then nodded a little, unsure how to phrase it.
“I associate otters with Ni-chan.” he said quietly. “They look like they give really good hugs. And they’re kind of… maternal, in a way. They hold onto each other so they don’t drift apart when they sleep.”
He laughed, a little shy. “It just reminds me of him.”
Silence settled around them, warm and fragile.
Tamaki felt something twist softly in his chest.
Sougo’s gaze softened.
Riku, blissfully unaware of the emotional impact, continued scanning the prize shelves with hopeful eyes.
And that was when Sougo noticed her.
A girl near the crane machines.
Staring.
Eyes widening in recognition.
Their eyes met.
She covered her opened mouth in silent shock.
“Sougo-san…?”
Sougo’s heart raced.
He stepped closer to Tamaki and Riku, grateful they both had their backs turned from the young woman, voice low and calm. “Tama. You need to leave. Now. Take Riku and head toward the back exit. Quickly, but don’t run.”
Tamaki followed his gaze and understood immediately. “…Got it.”
Riku blinked. “Eh?”
“No time.” Tamaki murmured, already grabbing Riku’s hand. “Field trip.”
He tugged gently but urgently, steering Riku away from the prize counter and deeper into the arcade, leaving the pile of tickets behind.
Behind them, Sougo offered the fan a polite smile as more heads began to turn.
And suddenly, he was surrounded.
Sougo smiled the way one smiles while calmly steering a ship through a suddenly crowded harbor.
Polite. Warm. Completely composed.
Inside, calculations ran like clockwork.
Three fans approaching from the left.
Two more from the other side of the prize counter.
One already lifting a phone.
He adjusted his posture slightly, angling his body so his face was visible but the direction Tamaki and Riku had gone remained ambiguous and unimportant to strangers.
“Sougo-san!” a girl exclaimed, clutching a small MEZZO keychain. “Is it really you?”
“Yes.” Sougo replied gently. “Good morning.”
He kept his voice soft. Friendly. Not loud enough to carry far.
Another fan stepped closer, eyes sparkling. “Are you here alone?”
“Just briefly visiting.” he said.
Which was not a lie.
Just… incomplete.
He shifted the tickets to the employee who watched the commotion with slight confusion. The paper rustled audibly.
A boy near the prize counter grinned. “Are you getting a prize? For Tamaki, right?”
Sougo’s attention flickered instinctively toward the back of the arcade.
No sign of them.
Good.
He turned back with a faint, absentminded nod. “Yes. Something like that.” No need to bring Riku’s name unnecessarily.
The small crowd laughed knowingly.
“Of course it’s for Tamaki.” someone said. “He loves plushies, right?”
Sougo offered a polite smile, though his mind remained elsewhere entirely.
He hoped that Tamaki got them both out safely.
More fans drifted closer, drawn by the quiet commotion. Phones hovered but most seemed respectful enough to keep a bit of distance.
Still, the numbers were growing.
“I can’t stay long.” Sougo said apologetically. “We have preparations for tomorrow.”
“A small concert, right?” a girl said excitedly. “We’re going!”
“I hope you enjoy it.”
He stepped toward the prize counter, intending to make a quick exchange and exit. If he kept them occupied for another minute or two, Tamaki and Riku should have enough time to slip out unnoticed.
***
Tamaki moved fast.
Not sprinting. That would draw attention.
But fast enough that Riku had to half-jog to keep up.
“Tama, what’s happening?” Riku asked between breaths.
“Fan spotted Sou-chan.” Tamaki murmured. “We’re evacuating.”
“Oh!”
Riku immediately hunched trying to make himself smaller, expression serious in a way that always looked slightly too earnest for his soft features. “Right. Evacuation.”
They wove between machines. Flashing lights painted brief streaks across their faces. Tamaki kept his head slightly lowered, guiding Riku deeper into the maze-like back section of the arcade.
Almost there.
If they reached the rear hallway, they could loop around to the side exit.
Then Tamaki saw them.
A cluster of backpacks near the racing games.
Keychains dangling.
Familiar merchandise.
Fans.
He clicked his tongue softly.
“…Annoying.”
“What?” Riku whispered.
“Backup fans.” Tamaki muttered. “We gotta detour.”
He scanned quickly. To the right: rhythm games. Too open.
Ahead: crane machines. Too bright.
Left—
A narrow row of photo booths tucked along the wall.
Dimly lit. Semi-private with curtains.
Perfect. They could weave between the booths to hide from onlookers.
Without overthinking, Tamaki grabbed Riku’s wrist and veered left, tugging him into the nearest open booth.
“Quick pit stop,” he said. “Hide.”
They slipped inside past the red curtains and sat on the little bench.
Tamaki poked his head out scanning the area.
As he did so, Riku watched the little characters on the touch screen dance and invited him to use his credits on a strip of photos. “Since we're hidden, could we maybe take pictures?” Riku asked innocently as if not grasping the full seriousness of the situation.
Tamaki poked back in to see Riku’s inviting proposal to take pictures with him.
The silver haired idol gave Riku an apologetic look. “Sorry Riku. Sou-chan said to get you out of here.”
Riku shook his head. “R-right. Sorry.”
Tamaki grabbed Riku’s arm in preparation to move again. “Next time though. Promise.”
Riku’s smile instantly returned as he let Tama lead him out of the booth.
They were almost passed all the different booths, so much so that Tamaki could see the exit they’d been searching for when—
Two girls wearing IDOLISH7 shirts walked across the open area towards a fishing minigame. If they turned, the boys would be spotted immediately.
Panic gripped Tamaki’s chest and he barely registered his own actions before he found himself throwing Riku, rather roughly, into the nearest booth. Having to activate it with his card to do so.
The door shut behind them with a soft click.
Tamaki exhaled.
“Sorry for the rough handling.” He murmured. “We’ll wait here for like… thirty seconds.”
Riku nodded, trusting completely.
The space was small. Enclosed. Paint darker than expected. A soft jingle began.
“Another photo booth?” Riku asked softly.
“Yeah, probably." Tamaki said, finally glancing around. “Must be meant for one person though.” He reasoned by how little room there was for the both of them.
There was a screen behind Riku that showed scenes of a piano as the jingle continued.
The walls, Tamaki finally noticed, were see-through. Which was odd for a photo booth.
Overhead he noticed the vents.
…Vents?
Tamaki frowned slightly.
“Huh. Fancy photo booth.”
Riku laughed. “Maybe it does effects?”
“Cool.” Tamaki said absently. Tension drained as the quiet enclosed space shielded them from the arcade’s chaos.
He leaned back against the door, giving the outside area a scan. “…Think we lost them.”
Riku let out a small breath of relief. “Thank goodness.”
For a moment, neither spoke. The sudden stillness felt oddly intimate after the noisy arcade.
Tamaki glanced down.
He realized he was still holding Riku’s hand.
Warm.
Small.
Trusting.
He didn’t let go.
Riku didn’t pull away.
Instead, he smiled faintly. “Thanks for keeping us out of sight.”
“Course.” Tamaki said. “Sou-chan told me to protect the center.”
Riku laughed softly. “You make it sound like a mission.”
Tamaki shifted slightly closer without thinking, instinctively placing himself between Riku and the booth door as if the outside world might still try to discover them. “It is a mission.” He went for the handle on the door but it remained closed. shit. Guess you cant leave until you've taken your pictures. Tamaki clicked his tongue again in further annoyance.
"Can't leave?" Riku inquired.
Tamaki only nodded.
“Well…Since we’re here,” Riku raised, brightening a little. “maybe we should take pictures this time then. Can’t let your credits go to waste right?”
Tamaki chewed the inside of his cheek. “Well…”
“Yeah! Duo pics. It’s not every day we get a Tama-Riku collab.”
Tamaki, still hesitant, buckled under Riku’s enthusiasm. “...Ok.”
They moved closer together, Tama turning slightly toward what they assumed was a camera. Tamaki leaned down a bit so they both fit in frame.
Then—
A soft chime. The jingle finally ended.
A mechanical voice crackled overhead.
“Simulation will begin shortly.”
Both boys froze.
“…Simulation?” Riku repeated.
Tamaki turned slowly toward the screen behind Riku.
It flickered to life once again.
A glacier.
Towering blue-white mountains. Snow whipping across the display. A digital readout appeared: ARCTIC TORNADO EXPERIENCE.
Tamaki’s heart dropped straight into his feet.
“…Riku.” He said carefully.
Riku tilted his head. “Hm?”
Tamaki’s eyes flicked upward.
The vents.
Realization hit him like a ton of bricks.
A countdown appeared on the screen.
10
Riku followed his gaze.
9
Looked at the glacier on screen.
8
Looked at the vents overhead.
7
Looked back at Tamaki, face pale.
“…Tama.”
6
Tamaki moved instantly.
He grabbed Riku by the shoulders and pulled him close, wrapping both arms around him and tugging him firmly against his chest.
“You’re gonna be okay.” He said quickly. “Just hold your breath as long as you can. It’s probably quick. Here—hide your face.”
He shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around Riku’s head and shoulders, trying to shield his mouth and nose.
5
Riku clutched the fabric, eyes wide but trusting. He pressed his face into Tamaki’s chest, inhaling once, deeply.
Tamaki tightened his hold.
“Ready?” he murmured.
Riku nodded against him.
3
Tamaki took a breath mostly in solidarity and to calm himself as best he could.
2
He pulled Riku closer, one hand cradling the back of his head protectively.
1
The world exploded into wind.
Frigid air blasted from every vent at once.
It began as a strong gust, swirling around their legs and torsos, filling the small space with icy turbulence. The temperature dropped rapidly. The sound roared like a distant avalanche.
Tamaki braced his feet, arms locked around Riku as tightly as he dared.
Riku trembled almost immediately.
Even through layers of clothing, the cold bit hard. The air was crisp. Sharp. It clawed at exposed skin.
Tamaki tried to shield him more fully, pressing the jacket tighter around Riku’s face.
Please be quick, he thought desperately. Please be quick.
The wind intensified.
It slammed against them with sudden force, whipping fabric violently. Tamaki’s loose jacket, not fully secured, tore free from his grip and began thrashing in the confined space.
The zipper struck his cheek.
Scratched.
He ignored it.
Then the metal tag snapped across Riku’s temple.
A soft, startled sound escaped him.
And he inhaled.
Tamaki felt it.
Felt the sharp intake against his chest.
“No—”
Too late.
Riku’s body jerked slightly as the freezing, bone-dry air hit his lungs. He tried to hold it in. Tried to suppress the reflex.
A cough broke free anyway.
Small at first.
Then another.
And another.
Tamaki’s stomach dropped in horror.
“Riku— hold on— almost done—”
But the coughing was already building, each inhale dragging more of that cold, abrasive air into sensitive lungs.
The wind roared louder, swirling violently around them.
Tamaki wrapped himself around Riku as tightly as possible, shielding him with his own body, head ducked low over Riku’s.
“Almost—almost—” he whispered frantically, though he had no idea how long it would actually last.
Seconds stretched.
Then finally, mercifully, the wind began to slow.
The roar softened.
The temperature crept upward.
The vents powered down.
Silence fell.
Riku coughed.
Once.
Twice.
Then harder.
Tamaki pulled back just enough to see his face. Riku’s eyes were squeezed shut, breath catching unevenly as he tried to suppress the coughing.
Guilt hit like a physical blow.
“…I’m sorry.” Tamaki whispered, voice cracking.
The booth door slammed open.
A staff member stood there, scowling. “Hey! This ride is one person at a time! You can’t just—”
He stopped.
Took in the scene.
Two young men. One visibly struggling to breathe.
“…What did you do?” The staff member demanded, irritation sharpening into alarm.
The accusation struck Tamaki in the chest.
Riku coughed again, trying to straighten. “S-sorry… We thought it w-was a photo—”
Footsteps approached at a near run.
“Sougo?” Tamaki watched as his partner took in everything in one glance. The open booth. Tamaki holding Riku. The way Riku’s shoulders trembled with suppressed coughing.
The look Sougo gave him.
His composure cracked.
Tamaki moved instantly.
“Sorry.” He blurted to the staff member, voice tight. “We’re leaving.”
He scooped Riku into his arms before anyone could protest further.
Riku let out a weak sound of surprise but didn’t resist, one hand clutching instinctively at Tamaki’s shirt as another cough broke free.
Sougo stepped aside immediately, clearing the path.
Tamaki didn’t stop moving.
He was already heading for the exit when he heard Sougo apologize to the employee behind him.
He raced out the exit and heard Sougo quickly follow behind.
The rush back to the hotel felt longer than the distance deserved.
Tamaki moved fast but careful, arms locked securely around Riku as he carried him through the late morning street. The world narrowed to the fragile rhythm against his chest. Each cough that shook through Riku’s body made Tamaki tighten his hold instinctively, like he could physically keep the air inside him where it belonged.
“Almost there.” Tamaki murmured under his breath. “Just a bit more. Hang on, Riku.”
Riku tried to answer. It dissolved into another coughing fit that curled inward and stayed trapped in his chest.
Behind them, Sougo kept pace with long, efficient strides, phone already at his ear while he balanced the garments and bags in his other arm.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “We’re returning now. Please prepare the nebulizer. Riku is symptomatic but conscious.”
He listened. Nodded once. “Thank you.”
He hung up without breaking stride.
Tamaki adjusted his grip slightly as they crossed the street, trying to keep Riku upright enough for easier breathing while still fully supported. Riku clutched faintly at Tamaki’s shirt again, face pressed into his shoulder as he focused on slow inhales that refused to deepen properly.
Tamaki swallowed hard.
This was his fault.
He’d dragged them in.
He’d picked the booth.
He hadn’t checked.
He felt something warm sliding along his cheek but ignored it entirely, attention fixed on the shallow breaths he could feel through Riku’s ribs.
The hotel lobby doors slid open automatically.
The doorman stepped aside instantly at the sight of them. No questions. No hesitation.
Elevator. Up. Doors closing.
Inside the small mirrored space, almost silence pressed close. The only sounds were the mechanical hum and Riku’s breathing, still uneven and starting to become little chokes.
Tamaki stared straight ahead, jaw tight. A thin line of red had begun to trail from the shallow cut on his cheek where the zipper had snapped across skin, but he didn’t notice. Or didn’t care.
Sougo did.
The elevator dinged.
Doors opened.
Iori was already in the hallway waiting.
“What happened—” He began, then saw Riku and immediately shifted into action. “Never mind. Inside. Now.”
The suite door opened before they reached it. Mitsuki held it open and let them all in. Worry etched deep in his face.
Tamaki crossed the threshold and sat carefully on the couch without letting go, keeping Riku supported until Iori had the apparatus fully assembled.
“Hey, hey,” Iori said gently, kneeling in front of them. “You with me, Riku?”
Riku nodded faintly, though a choked cough interrupted him halfway.
“Good. We’re gonna help your lungs out a bit, okay? Nice and easy.”
They finally moved Riku off of Tamaki with no resistance from him and had their center sit up straight on the couch. Mask placed. Machine humming. Mist began to flow.
Riku focused on breathing with it, shoulders gradually lowering as the medication started to work.
Only then did anyone else properly breathe.
Sougo set all the garments and bags quietly on the table, placing the prize bag for Riku beside everything else without comment.
Yamato arrived moments later, gaze sharp and assessing.
“What happened?”
Sougo explained calmly. Efficiently. From the fan sighting to the mistaken booth to the simulation.
Tamaki stared at the floor the entire time.
“I messed up.” He muttered when the explanation ended.
Riku shifted slightly at that, glancing at him over the nebulizer mask.
But before he could speak, Mitsuki’s eyes grew slightly.
“…Tama,” he said. “You’re bleeding.”
Everyone looked.
Tamaki blinked. “Huh?” finally raising his head.
A thin line of blood had dried along his cheek, just under the eye. Not deep. But definitely there.
“It’s nothing.” Tamaki said swiftly. “Doesn’t hurt.”
He’d barely noticed when it happened. And after what happened with Riku, it had ceased to matter.
Mitsuki opened his mouth to insist on taking care of it.
Riku suddenly reached out and grabbed Tamaki’s sleeve weakly. “You’re hurt?”
“I said it’s nothing.” Tamaki replied quickly. “Just a scratch.”
He tried to sound dismissive. Failed slightly.
Riku’s brows knit together, worry overtaking the lingering tightness in his chest. He tried to lift the mask but Iori gently guided it back into place.
“Finish your treatment first.” Iori said softly. “Then you can scold him.”
Riku settled reluctantly, eyes still fixed on Tamaki.
Tamaki looked away.
Unworthy.
He’d caused the whole situation. He deserved to get punished.
Minutes passed. The nebulizer hummed steadily. Gradually, Riku’s breathing smoothed. The tightness eased from his shoulders. Color returned faintly to his cheeks.
When the treatment finished, Iori removed the mask carefully.
“Better?”
“…Yeah.” Riku answered softly.
Then immediately: “Tama, let me see.”
“It’s nothing.” Tamaki repeated stubbornly, turning his face slightly away. “Seriously.”
Riku leaned closer anyway, gentle but persistent, small fingers catching Tamaki’s chin and guiding it back toward him.
The cut wasn’t large. Just a shallow slice from the zipper’s metal edge. But it had bled enough to be noticeable.
Riku’s expression tightened.
“You got this protecting me.” He said quietly.
Tamaki’s throat closed. “It’s fine.”
“We should clean it.” Mitsuki said. “It’ll scab if we leave it.”
“I said I’m fine.” Tamaki insisted, a bit sharper this time. “It doesn’t matter.”
It came out harsher than he meant.
Silence flickered.
Sougo stepped forward then, voice gentle but firm. “Tama.”
Tamaki didn’t look at him.
“You protected Riku.” Sougo continued calmly. “You acted quickly under pressure. And you carried him back without hesitation. You have nothing to atone for.”
Tamaki swallowed.
“…Still messed up.”
“Everyone makes mistakes.” Sougo said softly. “What matters were your actions after the fact. Understand?”
Tamaki nodded slightly. Understanding the words but not quite willing to let them absolve him of his guilt.
There was a brief moment of awkward silence when Nagi, who had walked in near the end of the ordeal, noticed the bags on the table. “Oooo, were you able to find some duo outfits for your MEZZO shoot tomorrow Sougo?”
Sougo smiled. “Yes. I’ve decided on a Y2K look.” He walked over and unzipped a garment bag to show Nagi one of the retro outfits. It was a stylish brown suit with subtle dark lime green stripes.
“I'm guessing this one's for Tama.” Nagi clapped in excitement. “He’s going to look great in green.”
Sougo watched as Tamaki’s head flinched at his name.
He sighed and decided to briefly change the subject. Reaching into the small prize bag and pulling out a plush. “Riku.”
Small. Round. Soft brown with a lighter belly. Tiny stitched whiskers. Not exactly an otter. But close enough that the resemblance was clear.
Riku blinked.
“…An otter.” He whispered.
“It was the closest thing available.” Sougo said. “I thought you might like it.”
The tension in the room loosened instantly, like a knot gently untied.
Riku accepted the plush with both hands, eyes bright. “Thank you… Sougo, thank you so much.”
He hugged it carefully to his chest, smile soft and genuine. “It’s perfect.”
Iori saw the way Riku held it like something precious.
Warmth tugged faintly at his chest.
Sougo then turned back to Tamaki. Determined to get his partner out of his guilt spiral.
“And you.” He said quietly.
Tamaki blinked. “Me?”
Sougo reached into his backpack he had left in the common area of their hotel room and pulled out a small antiseptic wipe and bandage.
“Hold still.”
Tamaki opened his mouth to argue.
Didn’t.
Sougo cleaned the cut with gentle precision, movements calm and practiced. Tamaki flinched once but stayed still.
“It’s shallow.” Sougo said. “It won’t scar. Even if it did, Mitsuki could cover it with makeup tomorrow.”
Mitsuki nodded from across the room. “Easy fix. No one’ll even know.”
Tamaki stared at the floor, voice quieter. “…You sure?”
“Yeah,” Mitsuki said. “You’re too pretty to be taken down by a zipper.”
Nagi nodded in agreement. “It’ll disappear in no time.”
Sougo finished placing a small bandage, then rested his hand briefly on Tamaki’s shoulder.
“Mission accomplished.” Sougo declared gently.
Tamaki’s eyes burned unexpectedly.
“…Thanks, Sou-chan.” He murmured.
For a moment, the two of them stayed like that. Quiet understanding passing easily between them, steady and familiar.
A dynamic they were used to.
A partnership that strengthened with time.
Just Sougo and Tamaki.
Teammates.
The rest of the room watched as their little duo fell quickly into a moment. Jealousy faintly swelling in some of them.
When Sougo stepped back, Tamaki exhaled slowly. Some of the tightness in his chest had eased.
Riku scooted closer on the couch, still clutching the otter plush. He nudged Tamaki lightly with his shoulder.
“We still need to take those duo pictures.” He said with a small smile. “You promised.”
Tamaki huffed a soft snicker. “Yeah... and you still owe us parfaits.”
Riku snickered at the reminder. "You got it."