Playing Sides
Nao's eyes are narrowed and his body remains motionless as he glowers, his mind wrapped up in the exquisite misery of silent jealousy. The couch beneath is leather, and he knows if he makes one move the resulting creak and sigh of the material will give him away, so he sits, still and quiet, watching the two before him.
Strangely enough, it's this situation he can't figure out, not the people controlling it. Tora, oh, he knows Tora. He knows Tora's motives and he knows Tora's style, but exactly when he had turned his advances towards Saga, Nao couldn't fathom.
Saga had been his for over a year. It was unmentioned, invalidated, a taboo discussion, and otherwise completely unknown to the public, and any compassionate behaviour that the two of them engaged in was never frowned upon in their band, was undeniably understood, and was silently declared as finalized. Saga had Nao and Nao had Saga and that's just what it was summarized to be. There was no change, there was no questions. He trusted Saga, and Saga loved him.
Which is why he can't figure out this current setup. He could understand Tora, seeping into their relationship under the pretences of friendship and building bonds and bullshit bullshit bullshit. He pined for Saga, and Nao knew it. Every little thing he did, every girl he dated, every joke he made, every flirtatious advance was aimed for Saga's attention, his jealousy, and all without Nao there by his side, was entirely conscious.
So why did Saga allow it? He didn't notice. Yes, that was it. They were friends, weren't they? Best friends.
Nao shifted his feet irritably, his eyes flashing back from Shou, posing delicately for promotional pictures in the front of the room, to his possession, lying so comfortably in conversation with Tora, the tiger, the wolf, his hair sleeked back and up and across his face in a pretty fashion. Nao eyed him furiously. Pretty hair pretty eyes pretty features and oh-!
Tora had spotted him.
Saga had laughed and turned away as they called his name behind the camera, and before he was ushered into the lights and self awareness, Tora's eyes had flashed and glinted, reflecting off of Nao's own. Hatred met smugness, and Tora traced a hand down Saga's back, letting it rest so carefully in the small of his spine before the bassist was gone, disappearing into the cluster of cameras.
Tora's smile was so purely tainted, and Nao's body shook with fury. He was so aware. So sly. His eyes glimmered maliciously, radiating heat. Everything was fire, and this was war.
---
The next day he finds Tora a little less outside his element, waiting harmlessly outside the gate, a cigarette posed delicately between his fingers, so effortless mimicking a gun that Nao could raise his own hand and shoot him down, a flick of bones and ill will.
But Saga is at his side this time, and a power unlike before is surging through him, a delicious taste of arrogant elitism that has him acting brash and forward, raising his hand so that Saga, surprised yet fondly agreeable, can kiss it gently.
He doesn't even see Tora. Nao ensures it. And as the two pass by, Tora becomes much less of what he was the day before, swimming with shadows as dark as the envy in his eyes and saying nothing. Staying silent. Nao, having won his claim for the morning, shoots the guitarist a piercing, glorified look at his own standing, keeping his hand wrapped around his prize as Tora's eyes glowed.
They began to sink further.
---
You do love me, don't you?
Saga peers over at him, his face contorted in a befuddled expression, though not one of uncertainty. This makes Nao's heart leap. It has that habit. Every look Saga shot him gave him shivers, bumps on his skin that he could feel pulsing for minutes afterwards; a fierce, indescribable force that passed through his lungs at the certainty of the bassist's thoughts.
You've been asking me this a lot. Is something wrong?
Nao glances around. Shou and Hiroto are chatting brightly in front of their mirrors, the small girl attempting to up-do Hiroto's hair often joining in, urging Hiroto to stay motionless, pleading. All seems normal as Shou laughs and grabs the game console away from his friend. All seems well. All is well. But where was the dark spot Nao has come to loathe? Where was this friend, so suddenly turned against him in a random act of spite?
Nao?
Oh Saga. It wouldn't be like this with him, Nao thinks. I'm here for you. Tora. He'll be here for himself. He'll want you only for the part he can taste.
You wouldn't be with anyone else, would you? We're not like that. Right?
Saga smiles. He's amused. Nao's heart races again.
What's bothering you?
Nao's mind is screaming. Nothing is bothering him. Nothing. It's a torment, something he can't defend against, only trust. Trust that Saga is true, that he's inflexible, that he's dying to stay faithful.
Tora.
What did he expect? An admittance? Did he really have such little faith? But Saga's calm demeanour reassures him like nothing before could do, and Nao feels his fingers tingling again, small little reminders of how desperately hard he was gripping his chair.
Tora is my friend, Nao-kun. Probably the best I'll ever have. If I loved him like I do you, do you really think this is how things would be working?
He pauses. Considers.
I hope this isn't a game between the two of you. You haven't been really friendly to each other, and I'm not going to take sides, you know.
Nao nods reassuringly, but his insides are quivering, and he feels more threatened than if Saga had been on Tora's side. In a pack, wolves think together. They plan. They initiate. Alone, they're wild and careless. Desperate. Mindless.
By being with Nao, Saga had all but left Tora entirely alone.
I do think he misses me though.
Saga muses, and Nao swallows. His hands are shaking again.
I can't win.
No.
---
The coffee is strongly flavoured, the way Nao likes it, but his senses seem so dull and rotten he can barely pass the taste off as anything at all. He takes another drink, wondering how it had become half empty so quickly, and figuring he might as well buy himself another as he hasn't anything to do.
The machine sells Starbucks brand, which is nice, as it's something he's accustomed to, and things have seemed so absurd and complex lately it's been hard to find something to relate to. He sighs, his mind pouring out thoughts like marbles, each a different colour of emotion that bounce and ricochet off his brain until he stops the process entirely just to get peace.
Saga and Shou are in the side room, doing the next set of what felt like a relentless cycle of photoshoot. Hiroto is immersed in his game yet again, and Nao doesn't have the heart to disturb him despite the growing threat and worry that plagues his mind. He hadn't spoke to Saga again about Tora, but the animosity had not been distilled.
I don't suppose I could convince you to share.
Nao reels around, his heart pounding as Tora steps closer, closer, too close, his dark eyes locked shamelessly onto Nao's, and somehow Nao realizes he set himself up for his moment, this confrontation, and the thought of acting so independently shocks him even more. Hatred forms inside of him, only weakly, a pitiful act of courage he can't seem to overpower the shock and fear that adorns his pretty face.
I can't. Tora. I…
He responds instinctively, as it's the only part of him left that can function correctly, and he has half a mind to call for help before banishing the idea. What was going on? The room seemed to swirl around him, and he could barely see Tora at all. Was he really speaking? These words were foreign in this friendship, forged on love, trust, and acceptance.
This is Tora. Tora. He loved Tora. They all did.
But his eyes were swarming possessively, and those dark locks that once seemed so suiting now gave him an eloquent halo of passionate, quiet fury.
You think you can just steal someone? So effortlessly? Pry all of his attention onto you? This game you're playing…
Tora.
You like games, Nao?
Tora.
I'll win.
Everything seemed so flawed, and Nao felt close to tears, the prickling sensation was at the back of his throat, and his vision was blurred, so blurred. He could only make out Tora's gleaming eyes as he smiled so maliciously, so influenced and motivated, as Nao crumpled before him. Without Saga, he was useless. Defenceless. So utterly remote and frightened in Tora's jealous calm that his own confidence seeped through the cracks of those bounding ties and he felt he could believe Tora. He wouldn't win.
Tora would win Saga's heart and love and all the pieces that went with it.
Nao? Are you okay?
Nao swallows deeply and there's something, something in that voice that makes him feel ashamed that he doubted, ashamed that he came so alarmingly close to admitting his weaknesses. But Saga's arms are around his body and he only wastes a few precious seconds both wondering when he got there and rejoicing the timing before he lets himself be held, watching with unfaltering eyes as Saga gives Tora a meaningful look; full of both confusion and disappointment, and Nao could burst with joy.
He takes one last look at Tora's stricken face, glowing with an almost radiant passion of anger and treachery, before allowing himself to be led away by Saga, his mind bursting with words and emotions that seemed to explode in the feeling of Saga and the sights around him
I've won I've won I've won.
---
It happened so quickly it felt as if they never really got over the shock. Something so sudden, so beautifully artistic in its setup and reaction was undeniably unforgettable. Sometimes Nao would sit down, serene and calm and try to fit pieces together that simply didn't add up. There was a burning ache. Nothing was explainable, but it felt so eerie in the post-traumatic breakdowns that the whole thing felt planned. Expected. Yet so unstoppable it crushed all of them in it's path.
He keeps the note folded peacefully under his bedroom lamp. The light always seems dim that way, and it's the only thing besides the medication that can help him fall asleep anymore. Saga still holds him at night, but it's detached and cold, the fingers that once felt so professional and comforting were now clumsy, trembling at times and poorly structured.
He dreams of Shou's scream, so unlike the one he played with onstage, challenging himself with levels and pitches. This cry was different. A sound of terror. Shock. A scream of agonizing emotional pain engulfed almost completely by the sight they had to endue that night.
Nao was sure his neck broke from the angle it was bent. So unnatural. So beautifully grotesque he could almost admire the way the loss of blood made Tora's face paler, contrasting so sweetly with those dark, dark locks. It was haunting, and Nao couldn't turn away that night. Not when Shou was retching in the corner, or the sound of Hiroto slamming his fingers against the buttons on his phone in a frenzied panic. No, the only thing that tore Nao's sight away from Tora's body hanging lifeless from their hotel ceiling was the sound of Saga's breathless tears. Nao comforted his friend, did everything he could.
But nothing brought Saga back that night.
Yes, Nao thinks about it sometimes, how it just doesn't add up. His eyes start to sparkle with that blurring liquid again each time he convinces himself that it wasn't his fault. That night seems so distant, almost forgotten, but the pain that act caused lingered with them still, chilling their bed and shifting their dreams so careless they could feel themselves literally torn from these nightmares into a world that reality worsened.
Tora had torn them apart, like he always wanted. Saga wasn't really his anymore. He wasn't really anyone's. The loss hit him hard, and the bottles of pills scattered in a delicate, ceremonious mess did nothing to relieve the pain of self-consciousness. Of guilt. Of regret.
Nao keeps the note under the lamp on the desk, because the light seems to dim when he does. He keeps it under the lamp so he can't read in that dim light because it hurts his eyes when he does. It hurts his eyes so much.
Nao,
I promise you.
I'll still have won.
---
AN: I'd like to dedicate this story to mana06, because she helped me get back into the idea of finishing this series. Thank you sweetie <3