Chapter Text
The hotel room is freezing compared to the inside of the bathroom, and Ichika suppresses a shiver when she steps out. The floor in the bathroom had been cold, but that couldn't have prepared her for the sheer temperature difference. She wraps her towel around her shoulders, stepping from foot to foot.
Shiho is lying on the bed in a shirt and shorts, her eyes closed. Beside her, Saki is sitting up, though one of her legs is thrown over Shiho's and her left arm is loosely caught in Shiho's grip. She looks up and smiles, then tilts her head down in Shiho's direction.
"Is she asleep?" Honami whispers.
"No," Shiho says, opening an eye. Her voice is woven through with the grogginess of someone who recently woke up. "My eyes were just closed."
"I don't think you know what sleeping means," Saki says. She seems more awake than she's been the whole night, sprawled on the bed with her phone. The light it casts on her face flashes with different colours as she scrolls through whatever social media it is.
"I don't think you do," Shiho says, not bothering to come up with a proper retort. Her eyes are closed again.
Saki makes a noncommittal derisive sound.
"Hey, has anyone looked through our post-concert hashtag yet?"
"No," Ichika says as she walks over to the closet to hang her towel to dry. "Is there anything good?"
“I counted five fancams of my keyboard solo.”
“And the rest of us?” Ichika asks.
“Huh? I wasn't keeping track. Go check it yourself.”
“Not all of us are self-centered enough for that,” Shiho says.
“Eh? Don't pretend that you haven't looked up videos of yourself! Oh, look—”
“We're out of hangers,” Ichika says, interrupting. “Help?”
When she looks back, Saki has her phone shoved in Shiho's face. Shiho, still lying on her back, blinks up at the screen with an expression of barely any comprehension. If Ichika concentrates, she can hear the sound: one of their opening songs, specifically the instrumental part where they all get a solo. Meanwhile, Honami is looking out the window, deaf to Ichika's pleas. Ichika sighs to herself fondly and turns back around, deciding to squeeze her towel onto the same hanger as Shiho's.
Arms wrap around her waist from behind, making her jump. She looks down and recognises Honami: her hands are free from the guitar calluses Shiho has, and her arms are corded with muscle in a way that Saki's aren't. Honami hooks her chin over Ichika's shoulder, silently demanding her attention.
“Hm?” She cranes her neck back to look at Honami.
Honami kisses her quickly, like she can’t help it. Ichika doesn’t have the time to react. “Let me dry your hair.”
“You don't have to,” Ichika starts, but Honami just shakes her head.
“Sit down,” she says, her voice bordering on the firm edge it takes when she's giving out instructions before a concert.
Then her hand is on Ichika's shoulder, pulling her over and pushing her down into the chair, and Ichika has no choice.
While Honami combs through Ichika's hair and sweeps the hairdryer across it, Saki decides to narrate out posts in their post-live hashtag, her voice pitching dramatically at the posts about Shiho's bass playing or Honami's drum solo. Ichika gets a thorough reading of their post-live hashtag, comments like Ichika-chan is so cool!!!! Heart emoji heart emoji heart emoji fire emoji (Saki makes sure to read every emoji out carefully), or Tenma-san and Hinomori-san were so affectionate today, I felt shy just watching them (Shiho starts mumbling under her breath at that one).
When Ichika's hair is dry enough and she swaps places with Honami, Shiho decides to join in, matching Saki's overly animated voice with her own deadpan reading. Every so often, Ichika makes eye contact with Honami through the mirror and they both laugh, and the joy of it all makes Ichika light headed.
Hearing comments and praise from their fans, read out loud in voices that Ichika holds so close to her heart, is an almost surreal experience. Even the ones that are so gushy even Shiho’s voice cracks with amusement, even the posts arguing about who in the band is dating who. Just the fact that people out there have taken the time to discuss them is enough for all the time she puts into the band to be worth it.
Once Honami's hair is dry, Ichika sets the hairdryer aside and leans over to kiss the top of Honami's head. Laughing, her girlfriend tilts her chin up, pulling Ichika down for a messy upside down kiss.
“Thank you,” Honami says sweetly.
Across the room, Saki whines when they kiss. “Come over to bed and cuddle. Please?”
Rising to her feet, Honami combs her hair out with her hand. “You're clingy tonight, Saki-chan.”
“She’s like this every night,” Shiho says. Her shirt is halfway up her stomach, and Saki is resting her head on it. “Is this your first night knowing her?”
“Hey,” Saki protests half-heartedly.
“I didn't say it was a bad thing,” Honami says. She walks to the bed and lets Saki drag her onto her back.
Meanwhile, Ichika goes to organise their luggage, wanting to finish up their housekeeping for the day before joining them. Knowing they'll be leaving tomorrow morning, they'd all tried their best to avoid disturbing most of the packed items, but there's still enough clutter to have her sorting through it for a while. She can feel stares drilling into her back as she folds the clothes meant for laundry and sets tomorrow's breakfast to the side.
“Icchan,” Saki calls, done being patient. “Come cuddle. This is your last warning.”
Ichika stands up and stretches her legs from the squat she'd been in. “Or?” she asks, not looking back.
“Or…” Saki falters. “Or nothing. Come over here because you love us.”
She can't really argue with that. Ichika turns to see that the others are already comfortable in bed, Saki wrapped around Honami with Shiho lying next to them.
"Hold on. We should—" Ichika cuts herself off with a yawn, "we should review today’s performance."
"Absolutely not. Get in bed, Icchan."
"No, we really should. Right, Shiho?"
"Um," Shiho says, and Ichika raises her eyebrows at her. "Maybe tomorrow morning."
"I can't believe you're saying no, Hinomori Shiho."
"Just get in bed, Ichika-chan," Honami says. “Please?”
The sight of her three girlfriends in bed together with a perfect space for her to fit in is impossible to resist. Ichika feels her resolve crumble away. She takes two steps toward it before stopping.
“Did you all brush your teeth?”
“Who cares?” Saki says, but Shiho is sitting up.
“Right, yeah. I need to…”
Honami also moves to get up, and Saki clings to her arm. “We just convinced Icchan to join us, and now we're all getting off again?”
“Your teeth, Saki-chan.”
They brush their teeth together, the four of them laughing and elbowing each other for space around the sink. Five minutes later, they’re back in the bedroom, Saki less disgruntled than before. Honami clicks all the lights off except the nightlight, and they get into bed.
“Oh,” Honami sighs when they've all settled down. “This is so much better than last night.”
“Right,” Ichika agrees. “I can feel my arms this time.”
She has one arm over Saki's waist and the other bent between them. Saki is snuggled close to Honami, practically wrapped around her, and on Honami’s other side Shiho has looped one of her arms through hers.
They do this almost every night, piling into bed together and figuring out how to position themselves so they lie as close together as possible. They've been doing this since they were children, but there's something special about getting to breathe in this moment while on tour.
Touring is the most exhilarating thing she's ever done, but it always ends with the four of them in a room, winding down for the night. More than the roar of the crowds, she loves this, the pockets of time they have between their shows, when the curtains are drawn and the world is just the four of them in a hotel room.
Despite the weariness beginning to settle over all of them, there's still leftover adrenaline keeping them awake. They talk, comfortably curled against each other, every word filling the space between them until there are no gaps left. The bedside lamp casts a warm orange glow over the ceiling and the bed. It illuminates the tip of Saki’s nose and glints off her teeth when she smiles, and Ichika finds herself watching her face instead of listening to what she’s saying.
At some point, Saki notices. She scrunches her nose, pulls Ichika into a kiss, and that derails their conversation (or Honami and Saki’s conversation, since Shiho’s contributions had faded into short noises a while ago) as Saki then insists on kissing the rest of them. Ichika watches as the silhouettes of Shiho’s and Saki’s heads overlap, then separate.
In the short silence that follows, Ichika yawns first. Then the rest of them follow, a domino effect, and the room is momentarily filled with just yawning.
Honami is the first to laugh. “I think that's a sign for us to sleep.”
Saki grumbles. “Someone get the light.”
“I'll do it.” Shiho leans over to click the light off, and the room is plunged into darkness.
Ichika blinks as her eyes adjust. Beside her, Saki is burrowing into the blankets, pulling them up to her chest with short, sharp tugs.
“Leave some for the rest of us,” Shiho complains. She yanks on her side of the quilt.
“There, there, Shiho-chan, there's enough for all of us,” Honami says. “Especially since we've got two tonight.”
“Doesn't mean Saki gets to hog one entirely to herself,” Shiho mumbles.
“Here,” Honami says. With a lot of rustling and tugging, she pulls out the quilts from being tucked under the mattress, freeing it up so there's more to go around. Ichika finds a corner to drag over herself, then shuffles close to Saki, tangling their legs together.
Once they're all settled down, Ichika speaks.
"So about the review…"
Everyone groans. Saki twists around and attempts to slap a hand over Ichika's mouth, but Ichika ducks away before she can, and she ends up smacking Ichika's neck.
“Okay, okay. That was a joke,” Ichika chokes out through coughs.
“I'm not sorry,” Saki tells her, but her thumb is running gently over Ichika’s neck in apology.
“No jokes,” Shiho murmurs. She has her face buried into Honami's shoulder. “Sleep.”
“Sleep,” Honami echoes, and she brings a hand up to tangle in Shiho's hair. “Goodnight.”
Ichika closes her eyes. She only makes it five seconds before Saki whispers from beside her.
“What time are we waking up tomorrow?”
“8am,” Honami says. “I set an alarm.”
“As expected of our leader.”
“Oh, hush, Shiho-chan, I thought you were asleep.”
The vibration of Shiho's laugh shakes all their bodies, as if they're all sharing the same mirth. Warmth worms its way into the area under Ichika's chest and curls up there, present in every breath she takes. Performing in front of a crowd is thrilling, but nothing compares to the feeling when they're in bed after it all, sharing the same breath, not knowing where each of them begin and end.
She wants this to be forever; this is their forever. She’s been with them like this for so long, but it never stops feeling like anything less than a miracle. From dreaming together to making that dream come true, every day brighter than the last, Ichika has never stopped treasuring the love she carries in her chest, the love that is piled onto her in overwhelming amounts.
Now, they still have the rest of the tour ahead of them. More cities that they will perform in, thousands more people who will watch them. There was a time that this was just a fantasy for them. They would talk about it, sometimes huddled together just like this, spinning images on the blank ceiling above them. A stage that had once seemed grand and out of reach is in their hands, a dream that sometimes feels too big for her to hold.
But now, living it out in this way, everything is simple. They take it day by day, moment by moment. She wakes up and eats and performs and goes to bed with them by her side. And it isn't intimidating, because to live her dream is simply to live beside them.
“Goodnight,” Ichika whispers, but no one responds, having passed out from the exhaustion of the day. She smiles softly to herself and closes her eyes.