Hikaru
He was free.
With just four little words, the chains of responsibility that once held him down were gone. Hikaru no longer gave a single flying fuck about his career, his fans or even his life, and oddly enough the mere declaration brought him peace that he hadn't known for years. Serenity that calmed the roar of productivity, the rush of creation. Tranquillity that lapped at his feet—warm, gentle, and inviting.
In the ocean and amongst the waves sat his lover and his child on a boat under the stars.
The love of his life had honeyed eyes that only grew sweeter the more she understood his words, the more she registered his meaning. And her pupils shook with tender gratitude that he could easily recognise. Hikaru relished that expression, absorbed it like a sponge and savoured it like a dying man drunk on ambrosia.
His feet were moving, sinking deeper into the sand, creating eddies, maelstroms, and whirls.
"You're joking," were the first words out of her mouth, before the indignant splutters from the rest of the guys. Choked out, their breaths hitched and caught in their throats, lost in the storm of their minds, buried under the heroism of his sacrifice.
He was the first one that strayed further from the beach, moving deep into the waves.
They were just as star-struck by his comment, just as shocked, and maybe horribly impressed by his confidence. He knew it was an idea that had been running around in the group, scattering over their heads like whispers from a devil (or perhaps an angel).
But none had dared to take clear immediate action, none had wanted to submit to the responsibility of the end. It was an option that they didn't discuss but knew from the pain that reflected in their eyes—mirrors of the truth. It was easy critiquing another, easy to see what horrible fathers they were when they weren't looking at their own selves.
But Hikaru could face his demons and tear out his own heart, bloody and beating just for her. Even so, the hesitation was what made them unworthy, undeserving of the future, undeserving of love. And Hikaru was determined not to be like them.
He continued, struggling against the waves.
Hikaru had plenty to lose, but he couldn't lose her.
He'd spent days lying awake in bed with her eyes haunting his dreams—nightmares that forced him awake with a swallowed muffled scream. Visions that led to an onslaught of hiccups and tears that developed into a snotty nose and pain aching hard in his chest.
He realised quite quickly that life wouldn't mean anything if it meant losing her.
Breathless, he'd held his daughter so close that she'd squawked and struggled in the heat of his arms, his tears soaking in her hair. Lost, he had stared into the oblivion and pondered the truth of his own emotions, considered the answers that stood tall in his unconscious mind.
In those dreams the sea was endless, and she was sailing on a boat. He was bawling as he swam desperately after her, struggling as he was dragged back to shore. His arms flailed and sea water was everywhere: his mouth, his nose, in his lungs. And yet he couldn't get any closer, couldn't reach her, couldn't call her.
He couldn't even tell her he loved her.
She left with the silhouette of others. The ghosts of people who would raise their child—better parents that were present and available, and there. A person that could hold her when she needed them to. Hikaru couldn't let that happen. He refused to let that happen.
Not now.
Not ever.
"Never." Hikaru moved, feet flying across the wood and then his hands were on hers. He felt for the first time in a long while, the spark of warmth. The flutter of something more and that made his own eyes burn as the dance of gold flickered between their fingertips. "I never lie."
"D-don't say what you can't promise," she choked out, breath catching in her throat, cracking. "Don't tell me words you don't really mean." The last bit whistled free from her lips, harsh and accusatory. They were angry and the words stung but he could practically feel the flinches and winces from the rest of the group.
And God he was smug, his heart ballooning from the tremble in her voice, from the feelings that poured out, the desperation that proved that this was the best decision he had ever made. That this was exactly what she needed and what he should have done a long time ago. That this was right, and he was doing so good.
This might not be what he wanted, but this was what she needed.
"I'll take care of her with you," he promised, smile spreading wider, "we'll be a team." His voice smoothed into cool Japanese, gentle as he murmured the promise of a lifetime. "We'll visit the doctor together and go to the park. We can share the workload, and you'll get time off for movies, reading, art…Anything you like."
"S-sleep?" she whispered, "my own time to eat?"
And he felt only pain at her request—not hobbies but basic needs. The tug of her fingers on his shirt as he pulled her close. The allure of her eyes so large and heavy with exhaustion despite her holiday that it boiled in his chest.
In his ocean, he had her in his arms.
"Of course, plenty of good long naps, noise cancellation earphones, and no baby to wake you."
She almost whimpered at his words, bottom lip quivering, the exhale that released from her throat was almost a moan.
"I'll make all your meals the way you like them. My creste di gallowith tomatoes and basil."
He felt her then, hands against the thin curve of her waist and the bones that should never be felt. But he kept that smile firm and sweet on his face. He would make her healthy, and he knew that he could do it with gentle coaxing and plenty of support. He would give her back everything that she'd lost for them.
Hikaru licked his lips, nervous as he began to plan meals in his head. Meals that would heal her, meals that could feed. Amber seemed so small in clothes that once used to curl snug against her body. But the hoodie engulfed her now, enormous for her frame. And her skinny jeans, once skin-tight and beautiful on her ass, rolled pass her ankles and sagged at her waist.
She shifted on her feet. "The fancy pasta you only make when we have guests."
He chuckled, hands cradling her face, thumb rubbing the edge of her jaw. "I'll grate parmesan and crumble gouda cheese. And give you as many sous vide eggs as you want." Her smile grew. "There'll be days for Italian, Japanese, Korean and Chinese. But when it's night-time and the nanny is here, I can take you out we'll go for supper," his voice fell into a slow drawl, "just you and me at our favourite place with the really good tteokbokki. Our place. Yeah?"
"Y-yeah."
There were stars in her eyes—millions of them. And he grew lost in their sparkle which could have been endless if not for the firm grasp on his shoulder and the pinched tone that followed, drifting from the long-ignored occupants of the room.
"You can't just leave," Sieon said, the words were strained, bitten out and chewed. They bit into the warmth he had created; tore into the illusion he'd formed in her head. Sieon destroyed it, an axe crashing through the walls—glass shattering, blood spilling. "You—" he faltered his eyes darting to Amber and then his voice grew soft. "I…"
He went quiet, trembling as he glanced from him to her, knowing full and well how wrong he was to stomp on her happiness as if he were putting out a fire. But Hikaru only held Amber tighter and grew stronger with his determination.
He turned to explain, a smile smug on his lips, eyes finally sweeping over the crowd. Good God they were mad. The tension could be seen in the strain of their muscles and the tic in their jaw, the hostility that darkened their eyes, released through the fidgeting and constant repeating actions. But Hikaru had planned far, far ahead in his sleepless nights. This wasn't about winning or losing, this was life and death.
And he would make this work.
He could for them all.
"I've worked it out," he told them, calm but stiff. "I'm the oldest, and in the eyes of the fans ready for marriage and family. They'll understand based on my age and our situation. Naturally, there was always a plan for me drafted for retirement." He waved his hand, dismissive as he shrugged. "I've already written a letter to the public explaining the truth, and its due tonight. The rest of the concerts?" He shook his head. "I had no intention of going."
The outraged gasps echoed across the group. And Amber trembled at his words, worry vibrating in her frame. "But your fans…" she mumbled.
"You're more important than them," he bent down to look into her eyes, "Our love is real. Theirs…The love they feel for me are all lies." She shifted, her gaze drifting from the floor to his face, and he frowned, caught sight the hesitation that danced in warm brown.
What was wrong?
"YOU CAN'T!" The outburst came from MinJae. Wrung out and exploding, his eyes grew teary, desperate. And Hikaru knew where it came from, crumpled in the letters he'd fisted in his hands, in the bins and torn into shreds. "I wanted to stay," he whimpered, voice dripping with his honesty. "I wanted to be the one to quit, I-I was going to. I was going to stay! I didn't even pack my bag. I left all my underwear, all my socks—"
"Damn it. I was going to quit too." Ezra growled; fist heavy on the counter as he stared hard at their lover, his lips were bitten and wounded, bloody. "There's just no point in this bullshit anymore, it's tearing us so far apart it's driving me fucking crazy. I'm not throwing my family away for my goddamn career! It's too much. I'm not happy at all. I'm miserable—"
"Me too!" Sieon gasped out, trying desperately to Amber of the truth. "That was what I was trying to tell you, it wasn't about denying Hikaru. It wasn't about us being horny wanting one last fuck—" His voice pitched, rising an octave. "I couldn't care less about sex; I don't need it. What I need to do is to stay behind to help you, to hold you—"
"You can't stay. You've got a solo!" Oliver snorted, shaking his head. "I can. Proportionately, as a rapper I've got lesser lines, it's easy for all of you to cover for me. I should be the one—"
"I drafted my resignation papers yesterday," Casper piped out, determined to let Amber know the truth. "I was awake all night figuring out the penalty of our contract and its costs. I'm pretty sure I can bypass some loopholes since it is our company, it applies for most of us. It's just that JieMi's the youngest so he has to—"
"N-no, I wanted to stay too." JieMi blubbered out and this time Hikaru was surprised at the sincerity in his eyes, surprised that he too was willing to forfeit all his dreams, willing to give up the hard work just to stay."I wanted to stay with Rumi and Amber. I wanted to stay with my babies," his eyes grew watery, "I can't lose the both of you again. I can't—"
"Guys."
The quiet serenity of her voice silenced their argument and Hikaru turned to her then, watched as the biggest most beautiful smile he'd seen in a while erupted on her pretty face. She laughed, genuinely glowing when she pressed her hands to her cheeks—pink from her happiness. His heart flew, body warm with her joy. But she stopped and sighed.
"Thank you."
"It would have led to this, baby." Ezra assured her quickly, lips leaving his nails. "It was natural—"
"But no," she glanced at him then, and Hikaru shrank at the strength, stumbling back as she held his gaze. "It's your last concert. Your last tour. It's—The fans. I was one of them. Your songs, your hard work. It changes lives, it inspires. And I loved it. It changed my life." She wrung her hands out. "So, God…Just—They were waiting…They are waiting."
"It's not our last tour."
"How would you know?" her lips twitched, a sneer. "How can you know?"
Her words were cruel, a shredder to his skin, but a truth that all performers understood. It cut deep into his soul and Hikaru's throat felt tight at her implications, at her words. Because inside he had hoped that perhaps his sacrifice would not be that big or that heavy, inside he prayed that this wouldn't be his last chance.
"But you're waiting too—"
"It's your dreams. Just—" she pinched her nose, inhaled so deep that it drew a rattling sob across her lips. "I was strong for so long. And now, you want me to throw that all away?" She pressed her hands to the back of her neck, interlocked like a pillory. "If I knew this would happen, then why did I—" she exhaled. "But I can't be the one holding you back. I wanted to be selfish. And I can. I knew that if I just texted you and said that I can't do it anymore you will run back home to take care of me. And I wanted to do that but no." Her eyes were vibrant now, fiery as they trailed over them, catching gazes. "No."
"There's always another tour," Hikaru told her as his plans fell, breaking into little pieces, destroyed. But inside deep, deep inside, was a part of him; an evil, sickening twisted being, that rejoiced. It laughed. "There's always another chance in life—"
"Not in this industry that prioritises youth and fame. Not in this industry when you never know which song is your last. Not in this world where fame disappears, and people forget. You're afraid of losing them all. I know you are, all of you are. A break is enough for the momentum to drop, for content to go. You've risen so high that all you can do is fall, and you're falling now because of me."
There were tears in her eyes, not stars. And he wondered if he had them mixed up from the very beginning like a fool.
"Do you know how awful that makes me feel? That I'm basically shooting you all in the foot? You've spent thousands of hours for this performance, an entire year of sleepless nights and work. Thousands and hundreds of hours. I can't let all of that go. I can't let the jobs of your workers end. The people who you've paid. The happiness you'll bring. The millions that you'll influence, who are just waiting to see what you'll give them. just for me. Me."
"And that's how much we love you, that's how much we want to help you." Hikaru begged, hands on her shoulders. "Please Amber, I can stay I promise I can. It doesn't mean that much to me. It doesn't, I-I promise."
Oh, but it did. It did in ways that he could never explain to another who couldn't love their job just as much as the seven did. Performing was a part of his soul and Amber knew that because she loved him. She heard that in the stutter of his voice. She felt it in her soul.
He had failed to convince her.
But more importantly, he'd failed to convince himself.
They'd all failed.
It was true that dreams reigned supreme over family. But for a dancer, the end of a performance that they'd torn out their soul for was death that did not come quietly. And because of that it was harder to leave, to die, to be free.
"It's not fair," she answered, soft and quiet. "It's not fair to you, and you know it's not. I see it in your eyes. You're doing this for me and only me. You're sacrificing yourself and this is exactly what I didn't want for you. This will hurt me just as much as it will hurt you. I know I've been a hypocrite; I know I pushed all of you to do this."
Her eyes glistened with unshed tears that she held back with a sharp sniff. She turned to look away but he grabbed her wrist. Between them, gold did not spark, it did not appear.
"I'm sorry for saying one thing, and then meaning another, but I was angry," she whispered. "I was mean. And now I know that it's not fair."
"Nothing is fair in life, but the least I can do is help you. I choose to stay because I have to. Don't take away my choices—"Hikaru told her, lips trembling, but he was grappling at loose ends. She was leaving."Don't be like this—"
"That's the point you have to do this." She flourished her hands. "I'm so weak that you're staying behind for me. And I'm not like that. I promised myself to never hold you back. I was determined to see it through even if it was going to be difficult."
"You're strong, but you can't be strong for so long…And it was our fault, I know that now—You need me!" his voice was rising despite his need to keep himself calm. "You need me, and I'm sorry for not seeing it sooner but I do now. I want to be there for you. I want to help you, let me be the selfish one—"
"Finish it," she repeated this time angrier than he was, and he faltered knowing that he'd chosen the wrong words at the wrong time. "This is my last goddamn selfish request. Finish it. This tour. Finish it and then you can quit and come to me. It's your last leg just as much as it is mine. And you're almost done. That's the problem, isn't it? You're almost done. This is just the hardest part before the finish line. The part where you're thirsty, your lungs are burning, and you just want to die."
He couldn't speak.
"I'm strong enough. I can do this even though I complain, and I cry; I can be the person that'll support you, not the one who'll hold you down. So go. Go before I die guilty for being the one to hold you back from your dreams. Go before I am your reminder of the tours you didn't get to perform…The countries you didn't visit. The people waiting for you."
MinJae stepped forth, on the edge. They all were, hovering on the precipice of a decision that could ruin them forever. "Amber, our soul bonds aren't even present anymore. I don't see them; I haven't seen them in-in months!" He was crushed, just as crushed as Hikaru was. Behind them, Casper was rocking Rumiko and she too was beginning to sob. "Your flowers, our lilacs. I haven't seen them in—"
But she didn't say anything and her hair shifted, the flowers grew. Hikaru watched choked as a single lilac blossomed. The colour just as gold as her soul. It glittered as she pulled it free with control he didn't know she had.
"The only thing that I wanted from all of you was appreciation," she mumbled, then corrected herself. "Appreciation, support and a listening ear. That's what most people want when they're struggling because of the circumstances and not because of the people."
"You'll have more—"
"I have enough now that all of you understand fully sacrifice, now that you understand exactly what I do for our family. And all I have to do is keep the baby alive and well for a couple more weeks," she smiled, placing the flower in his hand. "I love you all enough to do this, so please. Please listen to my last selfish request as your biggest fan."
Go fulfil your dreams.
*
Amber
People die more than once, mental and emotional before physical.
They were just as heartbroken as she was, and she felt like an asshole. The biggest one, for wanting them to stay and yet refusing when they offered to. But she couldn't do it—hold Hikaru back like a dog on a leash, Prometheus chained upon the rocks. Couldn't let the team perform with missing limbs and missing people, scrambling to fix the broken parts of two different lives.
It would be cruel.
Too cruel.
She brushed her daughter's hair, smoothing it out as the baby gurgled giving her a half smile. Taking care of Rumiko wasn't too bad now that Amber was well rested and could think out of the fog of anxiety. In fact, she understood the language her baby was trying to speak, could tell the difference between her cries and figure out what the baby wanted from the way her tongue flopped to create noisy discontent.
It was a wonder what enough sleep and food could do to a person and their mood.
"It's just you and me bestie," she mumbled to her baby and for once Rumiko was agreeable or perhaps the fourth time that day in which she didn't respond with a cry. She was quiet as she stared up at her mother with round eyes, and Amber smiled at her maturity. "Did you miss me, my little girl?"
Her baby gurgled, tongue lashing on the roof of her mouth in suckling motion, and Amber understood that as a cry for food as she opened her night gown. Hands shifting down to manhandle her boob out of her clothes.
At the very least without anyone else around there was no need for the shame of nudity. Her lips twitched at the thought, heart squeezing and she tried not to think about the possibilities of having Hikaru by her side or anyone of the boys.
"Or did you miss my boobs, you silly little girl." Her boys missed her boobs. "Was the medicine your papas gave you that good? Did it make you happy?"
Amber cooed as the child latched on her nipple, her heart surprisingly lighter with the child against her chest. She watched the baby feed, sucking hungrily as she blinked large round eyes at her—pretty eyes with lashes that fanned out long and thick. Eyes that were twin to JieMi's, eyes that were soft hazel and almost, almost gold. Amber exhaled.
She would try. Just as all friends started out as strangers, and all lovers were once people she didn't know. Rumiko would one day be her family and could become someone she loved. She burped her daughter, the action filling her with something warm, and yet she had to blink back tears as she stared up at the moon, so lonely and waning.
That night she video called her soulmates on the plane. She anticipated some form of negativity or at least an awkwardness that would settle heavily between them, but instead they were sweet, bubble and kind. They tried for her; they tried their best.
They ordered takeout, noodles in black bean sauce, and she ate as they drank champagne and feasted on duck confit they didn't enjoy, acting as if everything was fine. And it was fine. They joked and made her laugh three times, they talked about everything and anything. They teased. The 'argument' had been horrible, but it did prove their love for her and how misguided she'd been about her own situation.
And for that she was grateful.
She went to sleep a little earlier curled next to Rumiko in her cot, playing with her daughter and tracing her toes and fingers. Her normal had returned, a ghost of the past settling on her shoulders. The routine was familiar in the room that was not her friend, but at least she didn't feel just as bad. At least she felt mildly supported by the care of her soulmates, the knowledge that she was on their mind was enough for her.
Perhaps.
It gave her sometime to think as she stroked the back of her child and pondered on the downward spiral of her mental health. Amber didn't know when she'd fallen asleep, but she did quite easily with a surprisingly silent baby. And within her laid a quiet wish and a whispered prayer for the wheel of fortune to spin and work its task, for her life to change, for mothers to have dreams, for humans to have company.
For strength.
Inhale.
The feeling was indescribable. The rush of water, the whistle of wind, the itching of her skin too tight and then too big. It engulfed her, swallowed her down into the wet slimy safety of primordial darkness to the thump of a beating heart. And then it caught her, wrung her dry, drew her close and then swung so far she was lost and dizzy in a whole new world.
Exhale.
Her eyes opened, fluttered to life as a low gasp escaped her throat, breathy and thick, mint sweet in her throat, the taste of honey burning her tongue. Hands cupped her cheek, and the scent of another's perfume, feminine, as a body leaned forward over her, the edges of cotton brushing against her skin. Amber withdrew, inched closer to the seat, a choked whimper erupting from her lips.
It was a burst of feelings.
The awareness of her flesh, her blood, her bones, her largeness, the tug of clips on her hair, the tightening of a belt around her waist. The empty lack of her aching breast, the disappearance of the weakness, the ache of her belly. The strength and yet the thump of a stronger heart, a better healthier body, and the dangle of meat between her thighs. It was all a collective bundle of experiences and feelings and then finally awareness.
Horror.
Her hands, now lined with varicose veins and larger than her own clung to her chest and then as always felt for the newfound growth between her legs. It confirmed what she didn't want to see, as she grew choked and flooding with worry.
JieMi.
How familiar it was to be in this spot, at this scene. Oh, she should have known this would happen. Should have anticipated the change. It was all déjà vu, the unhappiness, the dreams, the flower, the acceptance and then the upheaval. The symbolism.
She panted: exhaled and inhaled, swayed in the seat. Her eyes meandered over the items. The palettes and the bronzers, the brushes and the colours, the deodorant, the bottles, the balms, gels, and cream. Hair dryer and curlers, and bags and bags of cotton balls. A mirror that showed her a messy room.
Backstage.
Amber was 10000 miles away from her baby, thrown quite ridiculously into the epicentre of the last, and the biggest concert of IDOL.
Her eyes overflowed and she began to cry big fat, heavy tears that ruined whatever makeup must have been on her face. And the woman leaning over her—God no it wasn't his new girlfriend in a twisted world, just the makeup artist working on her hair—asked what was wrong, dabbing at the corners of her face.
All that empty talk and Amber had to be the one to steal JieMi's position, JieMi's dreams.
Pathetic.
"Amber?"
Her name on a familiar voice had her turning towards safety but the person that stood before her. The person that called her name, his voice gentle and his eyes warm, was the last person she expected to see. He stood panting and breathless, a phone in his hands, clasped tight she spotted the messy text of another.
It was then when she realised quite frantically that she was fucked.
"JieMi?"
She flew but not in the physical realm. Her consciousness crashed, then absorbed, spun on the bridge of gold and she landed in flickering obscurity within another body. And then another. And another. Countless changes, but enough to scare. Something was wrong.
She was clutching her head as her sizes morphed, and her body grew and shrank. Then finally her own familiar being and the sound of a sobbing baby. She screamed into the change, begged quite desperately that someone, anyone of her soulmates stayed long enough in her body to care for Rumiko.
Because her baby wouldn't understand that her parents were shifting, transforming. Her baby needed her. Her baby needed her to stop changing bodies. Her baby needed her to be stable, well and normal.
It took a while, hours, but perhaps more accurately it had only been mere seconds before she settled into a final body. And there she stayed for more than five minutes, settled and comfortable within the meat and skeleton of a new human being.
She stood, stumbling and weak like a newborn deer as her eyes swept over scaffolding, over flickering lights, and never-ending cheering of her name just steps away from her position in the darkness. A microphone was pressed tight in her hands. It shimmered and sparkled, dazzling turquoise.
She glanced up and at the opposite end stood Casper. He caught her gaze with reflected horror in his eyes. She wondered if he knew, wondered if he understood that she wasn't who she seemed to be. She didn't even know who she was.
Amber resisted the urge to puke.
This.
This was the beginning of a nightmare.
Behind her the soundtrack began to play.
~Words cannot explain the salvation of a twisted fate~
A/N: Read the completed series including a Patreon/Inkitt-only epilogue here:
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