Chapter Text
Rui’s eyes remained transfixed on a trophy case in the back of the large office, sunlight gleaming off of the countless awards that had been supposedly accumulated over the years. The man at the desk and his mother were enamored in conversation, but he absorbed little to none none of what was said—it all felt like a muddled string of words to him.
The change was something he was dreading, something he’d tried to hold off in his mind for far too long. He hadn’t liked what he’d come from either, but to be faced with the process of “starting new” again was more trouble than he was hoping for, especially in the middle of the semester. He was sure to stick out, he was certain. And that was something he dreaded even more. Their goal with the transfer had been taking him away from those circumstances. Now, it felt like he was being pushed right back in.
“…Rui? Is that right?”
The violet-haired boy’s eyes found the man opposite him, staring back at him expectantly. Rui’s gaze was unfocused, suggesting he hadn’t heard a word. His mother sighed.
“You’ll have to forgive him,” she said, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “He doesn’t speak much.”
“It’s alright,” the man laughed. “We’ve had our fair share of quiet types. However…while reviewing his documents, I stumbled upon some—”
The door clicks open. Rui sees the reflection in the trophy case. A boy who looks roughly his age enters the room, staring at him intently.
“Oh. You’ll have to excuse him,” the man comments. He leans a bit forward, calling out. “Tsukasa, I’m in the middle of a very important meeting.”
Tsukasa, he’d been called, simply glances around the room once more before his eyes land on Rui. He smiles.
“Ah,” he says politely. “If this is a new student, father, then at least allow me to show him around.”
Rui’s eyes widen a bit, and part of him hopes for some intervention. But it never comes.
“Well…” the man trails off, looking to Rui’s mother. “If you see no issue with—”
“Of course not,” she reassures. She turns to Rui, giving him a small pat on the shoulder—a gesture to go. Rui unsteadily rises from his seat and turns to the uniformed boy waiting for him at the other end of the office. Tsukasa smiles politely and opens the door for him, leading him out.
“Welcome to Tenma Academy of the Arts,” Tsukasa says, latching the door shut and turning to Rui, seeming to expect some sort of response in return. Rui can’t find the words, and this clearly causes some fair bit of dissatisfaction hidden beneath the blonde’s gaze.
“…So,” Tsukasa continued. “May I ask your name?”
“Rui Kamishiro,” he answered quietly. Tsukasa nodded.
“Tsukasa Tenma. Please, remember my name. With the help of the training I’ve undertaken so far, I’m positive stardom is within my near future,” the other boy replies, each word seeming practiced and perfected. It’s a greeting that Rui can only assume has been repeated millions of times. After all, that would make sense to be expected from someone like—
“So, Rui,” Tsukasa asks, beginning to walk. “Does your family have any background in the arts?”
“No,” Rui replies, following. Tsukasa looks over his shoulder at him quizzically.
“…Really?” he asks. “Not at all?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” the violet-haired boy shrugs, observing the number of students and faculty that roam the halls.
“What do your parents do for work, then?” Tsukasa asks, narrowing his eyes.
“My mother is a biologist,” Rui answers, with a small thought of the now closed office—something he almost wishes he could return to, despite the mundanity. “And my father works in robotics.”
“…I see,” Tsukasa mumbles. “Well, what interest do you have in the arts? Visual arts? Theatre? Dance? Music? I’m enrolled primarily in the theatre and music programs—I play the piano and act.”
Rui remains silent, unsure of how to answer. A majority of the courses available were intriguing, but…likely not in the same way someone like Tsukasa would find them. And each one was professional in some aspect, wasn’t it? Meaning—
“…Rui?”
“Ah—apologies,” Rui stammers, regaining focus. “I…suppose music, at the moment.”
“Music, hm? Do you play anything?” Tsukasa questioned, his stream of inquiries seemingly never-ending and growing more intense each moment.
“…N…nothing, really,” Rui answered slowly, the uncertainty evident in his tone.
“Do you sing, then?”
“No, nothing like that…”
Tsukasa stared at him, absolutely dumbfounded. A handful of thoughts flash behind his eyes as he stands there. He finally sighs and folds his arms, turning around.
“Rui.”
“Hm?”
“Why are you here?” Tsukasa asks him bluntly. “I don’t understand. Your parents don’t have a background, and you don’t seem to have a specific field of interest. And while talking to me, you can barely keep a hold of yourself. People here will take advantage of that, you know. Some people…they’re rather competitive. And so you need to be prepared for such an environment.”
The two stand still in the middle of the corridor as the rest of the world whirls around them. Rui can’t look away from the gaze of the other boy, piercing and expectant.
“…I don’t know,” he finally answers. Tsukasa takes in his answer, and nods.
“Then you’d better figure it out.”
“So? How do you feel?” Rui’s mother asked, twisting the doorknob. The boy shrugged indifferently and set his bag down gently. His mother frowned and sighed, but not in a sense that implied any sort of frustration with her child—more at the circumstances he’d experienced prior. It seemed to have sapped every bit of joy and wonder from the child she knew.
“…I know you’re not happy with it,” she says. “But I really think this will be a good change for you. Alright?”
Rui nodded, his eyes still focused on the ground. She patted him on the shoulder and proceeded to the living room, and he automatically found his way down the stairs and into the garage.
He’d essentially gone through the process of converting it into a second room, due to the amount of time he tended to spend in it. It was just as messy as his original room usually was, but the larger space meant even more of it. He exhaled slowly, settling himself into the chair at his desk and closing his eyes in a small attempt to relax. When his vision refocused, the view awaiting him was that of the equipment across the room. A black and purple electric guitar rested on its stand, a variety of not yet plugged in pedals and additional equipment surrounding it.
“You’d better figure it out,” Tsukasa’s words plagued him.
You’d better figure it out.