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Love is a delicate word.
Shu hated it.
It was thrown around too easily by those around him since he was a child. Sure, his parents rarely used it for each other or their children but it was to go unspoken for.
At least, that's what he believed at the time.
He was naive as a child.
He wasn't neglected or uncared for but never felt the love his parents claimed to give. The attention given to his brother and sister was too much to go unnoticed. So he stood behind, watching his siblings live the life he wanted. So he aimed to go higher.
Shu wasn't sure what love felt like.
Was it that feeling he got when his mother tended to him when he was sick? Or the pounding of his heart when his brother would give in to his interests? He didn't know.
Then there was his grandfather. Talking and interacting with the man filled Shu with a sense of comfort. Peace. His grandfather was one of the few people that he could stand a conversation with as most people he would grow annoyed at their lack of being able to understand his side of things. His interests, hobbies, dislikes. To most people, it didn't matter or didn't make sense.
But that word. That distinctive four letter word never made sense to him.
Not even when his grandfather used it.
Not until he met her.
Mademoiselle.
He first received her from his grandfather, stating it was a gift from a friend in France. The moment Shu laid his hands on the doll, it felt as if his life had changed in that moment.
He cherished the doll.
Shu would create clothing for her, sewing together patterns onto a dress and fitting it to the porcelain doll's frame until it fit her like a glove. If the pattern didn't suit her, he would restart until it looked perfect. Until it was perfect. He couldn't let Mademoiselle out of his sight without the perfect dress to accompany her.
It wasn't strange in his eyes. He always had a fascination with dolls and things alike. He enjoyed sewing and creating things of the sort, it brought him that familiar sense of comfort he felt in conversations with his grandpa.
The other dolls he would carry around would often get damaged or thrown to the ground at the same time he was by the other students in his class. But Shu never cared if he got hurt, he only looked at the tears in the dolls' clothing. He would pick the doll up with delicate fingers, listening to the kids' laughter in the background fade as he fixed their hair and brushed off the dirt.
Shu would pick himself back up only to be brought down again. The dolls would end up back on the ground. Sprawled in the dust as their bodies dirtied even further. His eyes would never leave them though. Focusing in on the specks of dirt and the torn stitches. It was an itch that couldn't be reached– one that often grew into fits of panic when he couldn't get an outfit to fit properly or if it looked off. The same itch that burned in his body as his chest tightened. The words never bothered him but the treatment of his dolls- his life. He wouldn't allow that to happen.
He knew he wasn't one for confrontation and often attempted it, but he wasn't intimidating. Everyone looked at him as if he was weird or out of place. Shu was normal. He was perfectly normal and he didn't understand why everyone looked at him or treated him in the way everyone else did. Everyone had the same look in their eyes when they looked at him.
Everyone except for Kuro.
Kuro was the only one to help him up after a particular kid shoved him down in the dirt. Shu didn't even take his hand at first as he found it another threat, instinctively scooting back and patting the ground around him in hopes of reaching his doll. That sense of panic filled him again at the lack of the doll around him as his eyes darted around frantically– until he found it.
It was in the kid's hand. It was outstretched in front of him along with another empty hand as an invitation to take.
Shu didn't know how to react at that moment. His eyes locked on to the doll in his hand and flickered between it and his face. Kuro didn't move or take a step back. He invited himself closer, moving his hand even further down to indicate he should take it. Until hesitantly, Shu took it. Once he came to a stand and had the doll in his hands again, he thanked Kuro quietly and immediately went back to his doll, checking for any more tears or holes in the fabric as he wiped away the dust and leaves stuck in her hair.
“I like your doll.”
The moment the words left Kuro's mouth, Shu looked up at him like he was otherworldly. Usually, he was met with insults or physical altercations because of his interests, but Kuro did none of that. He accepted this interest like it was his own, picking up the pieces that slowly but surely got broken off of Shu.
Shu never answered him in that moment but he didn't need to as Kuro had taken his wrist and was already leading him back into the school. An unspoken friendship bloomed in that very playground that day. Something Shu was never familiar with. It was an unfamiliar feeling that filled him when Kuro swore to always protect him. In a way he doubted him. Because why would someone care for someone like him?
Why would Kuro want to be around someone who couldn't give in return?
But when kids would get in his face or rip the doll from his hands, Shu never even had to take a step as Kuro instantly stepped between them and put the kids in their place. He would take the doll from their hands, treating them as if they were his own and take Shu by the hand and lead him away. From there Kuro would give ideas on what the doll could wear or how the doll would wear their hair. Kuro knew how to sew too, he knew where everything went and how everything was put together.
For once in his life, Shu was happy.
That was the first time Shu felt love for another human being.
He didn't have to know what the feeling was when they walked side by side or sat beside each other in Kuro's home sewing together. He didn't know that was the first time he felt love, adoration, happiness.
Kuro stuck out among the rest. He didn't fit in like everyone else. He didn't master classes or always get perfect grades. He was just a person. A person who could pick up the pieces of a broken one.
At times Shu didn't know how he could show Kuro he appreciated him or his heroism, but he didn't have to. Kuro made that clear as he never expected anything in return aside from his friendship. That was the one thing he could give. Although Shu still had a hole in his heart that was still filled with that overwhelming weight, with Kuro, he could ignore it. He ignored it as he and Kuro spoke or walked alongside each other. Even speaking with Kuro's mom. Finally, he had a friend. And it felt like enough. He didn't need anything more. He felt no need to have another person in his life or even speak to another. He had Kuro and that's all that mattered.
So when he ran into a kid with the most beautiful eyes Shu had ever seen- he said nothing.
The kid ran into both him and Kuro as they were walking down the street. The kid quickly scrambled to a bow as he spat out an apology that only Kuro waved off, his eyes narrowing at the kid once his different colored eyes landed on the doll in Shu's hands. Shu expected any words in the book to be thrown his way but was caught off guard when the kid wore a dopey grin. When he smiled, that's when Shu noticed how dirty he was. His hair was messy and he had dirt on his face and clothes which were already a little torn. It was a confusing sight but even more confusing when the kid pointed at the doll.
“I love yer doll!”
His voice came out high and confident, eyes immediately locking with Shu's slightly wide ones. Shu went to reply, wanting to reply. He wanted to say anything to him but the moment those eyes met his, it was almost like he got lost in them. He didn't know what the feeling was that washed over him just by those eyes even acknowledging his existence.
So he didn't reply. No noise came from his throat as Kuro replied instead. Shu thought nothing of the encounter as Shu had begun walking beside Kuro just a few seconds later, not sparing a second glance at the boy who had waved them goodbye. Shu didn't know him so he didn't have to waste a glance at him. He didn't and he wouldn't because he was just some random kid.
He didn't tell Kuro that the boy's eyes continued to haunt his dreams at night.
Shu believed he would never see those eyes again. He was certain, actually. No one would want to spend a second glance at him. He wasn't sure why he even auditioned to get into Yumenosaki with Kuro. He should have stayed away but the desire to show himself in a different way than people saw, felt too tempting. Way too tempting.
So when he saw those same eyes that had haunted his dreams ever since that night, he froze. He was older as it had been years since he last saw them. At first, he thought he was dreaming again but they were too real to ignore. He was too real to ignore.
He forgot the majority of that fateful meeting between the two, not even learning his name then, but he never forgot those eyes.
Love came easy to Mika.
Shu envied that.
Mika didn't spare a second without announcing his admiration for the man. His smile and eyes lit up with joy at any given moment around him. Shu didn't know how to handle it and reasoned the feeling it gave him to be an annoyance.
Shu expected perfection and Mika was far from perfect.
He could work on his timing in choreography, the tone of his voice, and the way he wore a certain outfit. It all stood out to Shu among everything else. Mika was already perfect in looks but it wasn't enough. Mika had to be perfect. He wanted Mika to speak when he was informed to, wanted him to walk when he needed to walk. In his eyes, Mika was a doll.
Thinking of him as a doll made the feelings in his heart a little less scary.
Shu wouldn't say he was jealous because he wasn't. Mika just loved too easily. Another imperfection among the many. Mika loved everyone and everything and it was a nuisance because Mika had to focus on Valkyrie and only Valkyrie. Shu had to show him he couldn't shower everything in love without consequence, so he showed him everything he had known. He pointed out every mistake, every flaw, the threats, the insults, they all came so easily. Bit by bit, Mika got closer and closer to being exactly as Shu had dreamed of.
The second time Shu felt love was when he watched Nazuna.
It almost felt unreal. He would watch Nazuna in a trance. His choreography was solid most of the time and his voice was perfect among the two– him and Mika. Nazuna was the doll he had always wanted. Perfect around all edges, he listened as he should've, he was all around perfect. He was everything Shu had dreamed of.
Ever since the beginning, he knew he loved Nazuna.
So when his voice began to alter when he hit puberty, Shu forbade him from singing live. As a result, Nazuna kept from speaking to improve his voice. This never stopped Shu from expressing his admiration for the boy, frequently just holding his face and looking into his eyes for the same feeling he felt when looking into Mika's. Nazuna was perfect. Nazuna was everything he needed, he just had to see him smile.
Shu could sleep at night knowing his life was moving in the way he dreamed of. He had his perfect unit with his perfect members and he would be happy. He should be happy.
But it wasn't enough. It was never enough.
Fuck ups would still occur when they shouldn't.
That burning itch grew in his chest at every imperfection. Mika would turn a little too early, he would step at the wrong time, he would lower his tone when he shouldn't, he wasn't listening.
Shu snapped at that point, blaming every imperfection on Mika even when he knew it wasn't his fault because there shouldn't be any in the first place.
That was the first time he saw genuine sadness in the eyes he cherished since that fateful night.
Mika was stammering out every apology known to man, eyes even welling up with tears that Shu grew to ignore. Upon seeing this sadness, Shu promptly left without another word. He left Mika to his own devices, knowing that he would come back the next day anyway. There was nothing else to dwell on anyway.
Shu had gone to Kuro that night.
That hole in his heart was beginning to weigh with that overwhelming feeling. Shu was afraid it was soon going to burst but he pushed it down and still went to sleep that night.
Shu’s annoyance only grew the next day.
Mika was continuing as normal, his overwhelming presence and voice filling every crevice of Shu’s mind. How can he still adore Shu like this even after the day prior?
Shu shut him up as he always did.
He would continue to shut him up and shut him down at any given moment. Praise wasn't even in his vocabulary for the boy who basically worshiped him like a God. Praising him would only encourage his behavior and Shu certainly didn't want- no. Deserve that.
Mika shouldn't love Shu and Shu didn't love Mika.
Feelings shouldn’t be involved and Shu wouldn’t allow them.
Kuro had attempted to speak some sense into him but Shu believed he was higher than that. He wouldn’t be scolded like a child when his unit was at the top. He knew what to do and how to get it whether he had Kuro or not.
That was the first time he had seen Kuro get angry at him. Telling him he was on his own. Shu thought nothing of it at the time, he truly believed he didn’t have time to dwell on it. Shu wasn’t fit for friendship or love and he wasn’t going to start.
Shu allowed his legs to lead him to his destination after that, his body on autopilot as he entered and exited rooms. His words left a bitter taste on his tongue the more they were aimed at Mika but he never stopped. He spilled more simply because he hated that empty feeling in his heart and that annoying one in his chest.
He refused to name it. He wouldn't.
Since then, everything stayed the same. Songs were sung, friendship became an unknown thing, and words were left unspoken. Just as it was before. That's all Shu needed. He didn't need anything more.
Shu felt hatred for the first time when Eichi Tenshouin entered the picture.
Shu remembered the sudden darkness that swallowed the building, the ringing in his ears at the unfamiliar silence, the stares and the whispers of the crowd. He remembered the pounding of his heart in his ears, his jaw slack and head spinning. His hands began to tremble and his heart alike, picking up speed at every passing second. His breath shortened. Inhaled, but it didn't feel like air was getting in.
He couldn't breathe.
The darkness was overwhelming, the buzzing and the ringing echoed in his mind. His throat tightened, feeling as though nothing could get in or out.
He couldn't breathe.
His surroundings blurred together as the air around him began to thicken. He barely registered the moment Nazuna began to sing on his own, his voice belting out into the uncanny and silent crowd. It was apparent no one was there for them. Shu didn't know when Mika joined in. Their voices blended together, pulsing in a rhythm that felt wrong.
He didn't know when the song ended. All he knew was that his legs practically dragged him across to the curtains that led backstage. His eyes were stuck in front of him, mind fogged and unable to decipher any sound aside from his heart. His legs stopped moving just behind the curtain, legs stuck in place as his hands dangled at his sides. fine passed by him with a sense of pride, gloating smiles appearing over their faces as they barely took a second glance at him. When Eichi came into his vision, his face was already blurred into a morphed mess.
The words whispered into his ear felt like twisting the knife and suddenly he couldn't stand.
His knees buckled as he crumpled to the floor below. His hat had fallen in the midst of his body falling in on itself, laying feet in front of him as he choked out sobs. The hands on his body felt too suffocating, the shouting of his name felt too surrounding– he couldn’t handle it. His unit, his desire, his life, was crushed. It was ruined, stepped on by those bigger than him like it was nothing. Like it meant nothing.
Shu forgot what love felt like after that day.
Days spent wasted in his room locked away. His curtains, thick and faded blue, were always drawn, casting his world in perpetual twilight. The blanket twisted around his fingers, eyes locked on a single loose thread. It bothered him. The itch grew like a flame in his chest but he did nothing about it—no motivation to move or speak.
He wasn’t sad. He wasn’t even mad. He was numb. Feeling nothing even when hot tears fell from his eyes at random intervals. This numbness had crept in like a slow fog, soft and steady, until it thickened into a weight he couldn’t push off. No one dropped by. Kuro stopped blowing up his phone, likely due to all of his messages being unanswered. The outside world seemed to grow quiet with each passing day. No one cared.
No one except for Mika.
Mika would show up with a plate full of food and a mouth full of worthless stories. Of course, Mika knew they wouldn’t interest Shu. He had to know. More often than not did the words irritate him but he always kept to himself. He wouldn’t give him the time of day. His would stay shut and his eyes remained fixed in front of him. He swallowed the thousands of words he wanted to scream.
Shu didn’t know why he stayed.
He didn’t understand.
Shu treated him like he was lower than the low. Those words he threw at him Mika took with a smile on his face. He didn’t leave when Shu yelled at him. He didn’t cry when Shu got too stressed, he stood there and he took it. Then Mika would draw him a bath, would carry his things, would say out of his way, would practice until his feet ble. Shu didn’t understand it. He just didn’t get it.
Why would he stay?
So Shu gave him that opportunity. He told him to leave. Told him to leave him be and go toward something that has a future, another unit, another partner. Nazuna was gone, Valkyrie was gone, and soon enough Shu would be too.
When Mika refused… Shu stayed quiet.
He had nothing to say.
Eventually, Mika left with some parting words. A smile was present on his face as he made his way out the door, humming an old song of theirs under his breath. It wasn’t comforting. It was a reminder of his failures. So when that door shut– the dam broke. All of that numbness, that sadness and guilt that ate him up inside, it poured out. He stayed like that for hours. Not eating. Not drinking.
Not even when the scent of the food drifted and filled the air. His body refused and his brain agreed.
In the days following, something inside Shu shifted. Like a door creaking open to a room he’d kept locked for years.
Watching Mika walk in, food in hand and a smile on his face, still speaking nonsense about something that happened at school or work, it became less annoying and more… comforting. He dreaded the moment Mika left the room, bidding him a farewell and sweet dreams as the door shut with a click. Every time the door shut Shu found himself longing for the boy the next day.
Shu’s hands wrapped around the ceramic bowl that presented warm and decently smelling food. After some slight hesitation, he lifted the chopsticks and took a bite. The more he chewed, allowing the flavors to melt on his tongue and savor into his stomach, the more he felt himself actually begin to breathe. The darkness of the room seemed to shift and the voices quieted. Although he was alone as he ate, everything began to feel pieced together. Slowly but surely, the thoughts dissipated, the days were a little less long, and things began to feel okay. Nothing was perfect, but it was a start.
Shu realized that he was in love on a random night.
It wasn’t a loud realization. It came quietly in his bedroom, like the way dawn breaks. It made sense, but it scared the hell out of him. He had never felt this kind of love for anyone before. It was the feeling he suppressed for so long, the one he spent so long pushing down at any given moment because he didn’t want to deal with the aftermath.
It shouldn’t come so easily and yet it seemed to manifest deep inside the moment their eyes met.
So when Mika started acting weird the next day, Shu didn’t know what to do.
He was happy, excited even, that Mika was finally landing every step of the choreography perfectly. He replicated a doll so easily as if it were second nature.
Well, in a way, it was.
Shu dumbed it down to that. Even though the emotionless stares and the one-worded answers seemed unlike him, Shu was too caught up in planning the video. He would check on him later when he was done. When he was approached by a panicked Hajime and Izumi, that uneasy feeling settled in his chest. It wasn’t often he felt worried for another human being but when it came to Mika it seemed to come easily. When the hypnotism didn’t seem to work, it all seemed to click into place. Like the last piece of a puzzle.
Shu understood.
He wasn’t fully in the right mind in the moment. Speaking mindlessly to the doll about his frustrations and ties to Mika. The doll was lonely– Shu understood. Who wouldn’t want Mika? Someone who would pick up the pieces of a broken person and not only hold them, but slowly piece them back together? Anyone would want a person like that. Shu knew he didn’t deserve him but he didn’t care. He was going to be selfish. Mika was his and the doll couldn’t have him.
He didn’t know if the kiss was for Mika or himself. The lines were blurred, but it felt right through and through. He didn’t regret it and Mika didn’t remember. But that was fine. He didn’t want him to see his selfishness. He didn’t deserve him so he wished for Mika to never remember that night. The night when he stared into his eyes, taking in both colors that grew to be his favorite. The night when he brushed his hand against Mika’s, taking in every feature of the boy he had grown to love.
Love.
Shu loved the word.
It was thrown around carelessly by those around him but he no longer cared.
He understood it. They didn’t.
Mika did. He had always known. He was never afraid to tell Shu. The word rarely left his mouth but anyone with a brain could decipher his words. They had always meant love. Admiration. Desire.
Shu didn’t understand why Mika loved him. Forgiveness never came because Mika never resented him. There was nothing to forgive. Maybe Mika knew all along. Maybe he could tell that deep down, somewhere, Shu loved him back. Maybe that’s why he held nothing against him, even if it made no sense.
Nobody had to know they loved each other.
It would be shown behind closed doors and intertwined fingers. Soft kisses left on the skin, practically burning into their bodies and mind. It would be shown in tangled blankets and loving noises only meant for the other to hear. It would be shown through delicate kisses behind the curtain before a show. Through forgotten appointments and private phone calls.
Even when Shu was miles away or overseas, he couldn’t help but feel that burning itch in his fingers again but never for the same past reasons. It was the itch to grab his phone and hear his voice. The itch to grab his hand and lock them away so they wouldn’t have to ever go outside again. Shu felt selfish at some points, knowing that keeping Mika for too long and leaving him with hushed words in his ears before he left was probably meant for someone else, for someone better and more deserving than him.
But Mika makes that thought disappear. He takes him by the hand proudly and announces his love without a second thought. Mika wasn’t great at words but Shu couldn’t help but feel moved by the sentences confessing his love, even years after it was declared. Shu allowed these words to be said, allowing them to settle into his mind and remind him that for once he wasn’t alone.
He knew he didn’t deserve it but overtime that feeling began to subside, allowing himself to let him in instead of pushing him away.
In the golden light, surrounded by silence and unspoken promises, Mika reached out– and for the first time, Shu let himself believe it was okay to be held.
Shu finally understood how it felt to be loved.