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This is not a scene he's meant to see.
That's what Tenn realizes when he inadvertently casts a glance through the ajar door of the IDOLiSH7 dressing room. Of course, if it was an intimate moment, he believes Izumi would have properly closed the door. But he didn't, and now Tenn finds himself standing by the threshold, fascinated by an all too familiar scene.
His brother, Riku, laid his head on his partner's shoulder, eyes closed, with a serene expression on his face. Izumi's gazing at the single window of the room, his dark blue lock mingling with Riku's red ones. The night has already fallen: the room baths in the light coming from outside, half-moon, half-street lamp.
In this small nook of semidarkness, even though anybody could come and disturb them, the two boys seem to have found their own refuge.
And Tenn, who isn't supposed to catch them in this state of vulnerability, feels his stomach flip.
Of course, it isn't jealousy. Izumi Iori won't ever replace him. They both have a special place in Riku's life, and TRIGGER's centre knows, deep down, that they'll always be brothers. That bond can't be erased, even if one of them claims they're not family anymore. In spite of all the words Tenn utters, of all the denials jostling at the edge of his lips, despite these words he lets go of because he's afraid to reveal too much about his own heart, they are twin brothers.
It isn't jealousy, and yet the old pain lodging in the depths of his heart jolts awake.
He's too tired to deal with his repressed emotions. Tenn moves back a step. However, his foot hits the corner of the door, and the noise alerts Izumi, who looks in his direction. His eyes are defiant, which is not surprising; the last time the two brothers were in the same room (at least, outside of work hours), Izumi's centre had burst into tears, on the verge of an asthma attack—all of this, because of Tenn. So sure, he can't blame Izumi for being wary of him. Even if he shares the high schooler's views on a wide range of topics, in the end, their goals are too different for them to get along.
He is about to leave when Izumi says: "You can come in, Kujou-san."
So he does, surprised by the younger boy's sudden invitation.
He slowly closes the door behind him and gets closer. Looking for a hint of rejection in Izumi's eyes, and not finding any, he drops down next to his brother.
Riku fell asleep, most likely because of exhaustion. The shooting was back-breaking, and to tell the truth, Tenn himself has no idea why he's not collapsing himself. However, he is used to the constant tiredness, so he knows how to deal with it. Riku being sick, this kind of work must take a heavier toll on him. His hunched silhouette looks so frail, so far from his usual energy and dynamism.
Something breaks inside of Tenn.
He wants, for a second, to extend his hand and pull out the few strands of hair that have slipped on his forehead—yet he stops himself. Somehow, he wants to cry, but he can't, not when Izumi is still staring at him.
"I don't understand you, Kujou-san."
Tenn raises his head. "Sorry, were you talking to me, Izumi?" His gaze is cold, unshakable.
He hopes Izumi will take the hint and drop the subject. Unfortunately, the younger boy doesn't.
"You always find a way to hurt Nanase-san. And yet you still care about him. I don't understand why you're always so hard on him."
"You're one to talk." Tenn is pretty sure Izumi himself puts a hell of a pressure on Riku.
"At least I am not trying to break his dream."
"Is this an accusation?" His voice is icy.
Izumi sighs. "A mere observation. Let me get this straight: at first, you refuse to talk to him. Then you manage to find common ground. And when you realize he doesn't meet your expectations, you deny him the right to be an idol again. You keep sending him mixed signals, so it's really confusing for him."
Well, to be honest, Tenn admits he doesn't get it either.
Or rather, he doesn't want to get it. A part of him knows that he's a bit at fault: he's the reason their relationship worsened when Riku tried his best to close the gap between the two of them. However, he doesn't allow himself to admit it. It would mean denying all of the sacrifices he's made so far. Besides, he still disagrees with Riku; if his brother isn't able to sing until the end of a live performance, isn't it an insult to the fans? He can't be an idol.
He doesn't owe Izumi an answer, and yet he feels the need to explain himself.
"We have changed, Izumi. Riku and I, we don't know each other so well now."
"Which is why you're uncompromising."
Tenn shrugs, ill at ease.
To his surprise, Izumi bursts into laughter, leaving Tenn bewildered.
"I used to think you were scary, Kujuo-san. I really thought nothing could affect you. You know, you were always talking about professionalism, you talked like someone who never experienced failure? You're working so hard, after all, of course you never failed." His face darkens, and Tenn guesses he's thinking about Music Festa (and maybe the long lecture Tenn gave them that night at the hotel).
"But I saw how you looked at him", Izumi whispers, his voice so soft Tenn barely hears it. "You truly love him."
Of course, he's my twin brother.
Tenn keeps his mouth shut.
"You know he won't back down, Kujou-san. You'll have to accept his decision, now or later."
Easier said than done. "How can you support him when you know how dangerous this is for him?" Tenn asks. If something happens to him... do you have any idea how much guilt I'd feel? Do you think I could handle this suffering when he's my everything?
"I support him because he needs to be protected", Izumi answers. Kind but firm, he looks sure of his reply.
Tenn's eyes widen. He never saw things this way.
Izumi then lifts Riku's head, gently placing it on Tenn's shoulder. He doesn't reply to the boy's silent question. He only puts his fingers on his lips, ordering him to keep quiet.
"When he wakes up", he says, "try to be more honest. Even if you don't solve anything today, as long as you don't dismiss him, he will feel better. I think he needs it."
Tenn smiles. I'll be as honest as you can be, Izumi.
Caressing his brother's hair, he tries to think of something he could tell Riku. Words tumble out in his head: there are many of them, but they all lack sense. He doesn't think he's ready, he doesn't know how to properly express himself. How do you tell someone that you left them because of your love for them? His reasons pale in comparison to Riku's hurt words.
Silence might be, for now, the only answer he can offer.
