Chapter Four
Title: The Myu Chronicles - Book One: The Dancing Lion, the Warlock, and the Wardrobe
Author: KY
Genre: pnish/TeniMyu/Narnia crossover
Characters/pairings: TutixNagayan, MorixDaiki, KazukixShirota, SaitoxAoyagi, various others, *pnish*
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3,930
Summary: *pnish*, the chosen humans destined to become Kings of Narnia and do battle against the White Warlock and the minions of his ice palace, must return peace and eternal summer to this mythical world.
Tuti was, to say the least, acting strange, which was strange to say in the first place because this was Tuti, and strange and Tuti had been born joined at the hip like a set of Siamese twins. Daiki supposed that he had just never seen Tuti so… well, detached was the only word he could come up with.
Ever since he and Eiji had come back from talking to their producer, Tuti had seemed a little off-the dancer was too quiet by far, and Daiki hadn’t heard him crack a lame joke at anyone’s expense in over a half hour. Not that he had time to worry about Tuti, or particularly wanted to, since a silent and withdrawn Tuti was actually one that let their meetings progress unimpeded, if not a little more boring than usual. The more half-hearted answers they got from the other man the more it seemed to dampen the atmosphere, to the point where even Wasshi was no longer hiding the puzzled, side-long glances he kept throwing the dancer. It couldn’t be helped though. They were busy and this play was not going to put itself together by itself, so if Tuti was having a little off-day it wasn’t Daiki’s concern.
Especially when he had his own thought consuming issues to deal with, which for once didn’t involve paint colors or costume pieces or finding out where their missing shipment of flyers had gone off to. Daiki figured that the rigorous schedule of all these preparations was the only thing keeping him from going off the deep end and punting Eiji’s ass into next week, or at the very least giving the man a very colorful and snippety piece of his mind. Not that Eiji had done anything wrong, but Daiki would eat his glasses if it turned out that he was making up the feeling he’d had for the past few weeks that Eiji was ignoring him.
Oh he hadn’t done anything blatant, like blowing Daiki off for lunch-though it had been a month since they’d even done that together-but Daiki had noticed a serious decrease in their normal friendly activities to the point where he was ready to call a confrontation. The majority of his texts and phone calls were being left unanswered with lame excuses about being busy or asleep coming back at Daiki whenever he asked about it. Which he had stopped doing over a week ago. Eiji no longer offered to meet him at the station in the morning, let alone walk home with him. There were no invitations to come out drinking, even when he knew Daiki would probably say no, and Daiki hadn’t seen a surprise visit with take-out dinner in almost a month and a half. He was hurt and confused, and for the life of him couldn’t understand what could have brought about this change between them. Whatever stick Eiji had up his ass Daiki intended to find out about it and see it promptly removed so things could go back to normal.
If he could get Eiji to talk to him seriously, that is.
“Eiji, wait!” Daiki shouted, jogging down the hallway.
Eiji stopped but didn’t turn around, his attention half focused on a yellow poster tacked to the wall. He didn’t face Daiki when the man reached his side. “What is it?”
“Um…” Daiki stalled, pondering. “Did… you get to try on your costumes yet? The seamstress is only going to be here today, so everyone’s gotta get in for their fittings. I mean, she’s not here yet, but she’ll be here later, maybe in an hour, so I just thought, you know, you should get it out of the way now so you know what you need to tell her.”
Eiji waved him off. “Its fine, I’ll do it later.”
Daiki wrung his hands while they stood there in a few awkward seconds of silence. Eiji finally turned his head and looked at Daiki, his expression closed and unreadable. Daiki swallowed. “Hey… did you want to get lunch? We can pick up stuff for everyone?”
“You can get whatever you like. I already brought mine,” Eiji replied. He turned around and walked down the hallway in the direction he’d been heading earlier.
Daiki hung his head until he was overcome with the urge to kick the table leg next to him. This really was getting to be too much. Eiji clearly didn’t want to talk to him or have anything to do with him, and not only was it confusing but it hurt like hell. Daiki turned around and went in search of Wasshi.
He found his friend in the company of one of the stage hands, quietly discussing some of the merits of using different types of props, though it sounded like the hired help was having a good time sharing stories with the mild-mannered man and making them both laugh. Daiki watched them in the dark wings for a few minutes, always at a loss when he observed Wasshi’s ability to get along with perfect strangers, no trace of nervousness or hesitation to smile and make conversation. It was something Daiki still hadn’t mastered even to this day and something he admired deeply about his oldest friend.
Certainly Wasshi never got tripped up over his own words because he was too excited to speak at a normal pace, and Wasshi never had moments of insecurity about his acting like Daiki seemed plagued with. Wasshi was a perfect character actor and comedian, and even though Daiki knew he was better at dancing it wasn’t much of a comfort when the only dancing in this piece was coming in the end after the curtain call. Normally Daiki went to Eiji concerning his insecurities and the senseless worries he sometimes needed to voice aloud, but Eiji’s distance hadn’t lessened when pre-production began the other week, much like Daiki had been hoping it would. He felt untethered and lost, and admittedly a little worried about the coming weeks of rehearsals and working with Eiji in close quarters. If things weren’t fixed by then, what was going to happen? Was he going to lose his best friend for good? Would the play suffer? Would the whole thing get called off because they couldn’t work together? It was the first time Daiki had been faced with the chilling possibility of a schism forming in pnish. And it would be his fault.
The stage hand was called away, leaving Wasshi alone in the middle of a stage lit by a quarter of the bright spot lights, and Daiki chose then to step out of his hiding place. Wasshi turned at the sound of his sandals scuffing across the wood surface and gave Daiki a warm smile. Daiki returned it and moved to sit on the edge of the stage, where Wasshi joined him after a moment, their feet dangling off the edge into the air.
“It’s coming along,” Wasshi said, gesturing with his head to the emerging scenery behind them.
Daiki twisted his head to view the set-up and nodded, knowing that pretty soon the stacks of painted lumber and scattered props would transform into something amazing. He turned to face the rows upon rows of empty seats, the back wall of the small theater just visible beyond the spotlights. Still too small. “Aa, everyone’s working really hard.”
“Especially you,” Wasshi said, smiling gently. “How are you holding up?”
Daiki smiled and shrugged. “I’m fine actually. A lot of things got taken out of my hands having a producer this time. I’m still amazed we were even able to afford to have one.”
“Yeah. First time for everything huh. Maybe next time we’ll even have a choreographer?”
Daiki laughed. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Besides, what’s wrong with my choreography?”
They stared at each other for a moment before both dissolved into laughter.
“Okay, okay, don’t answer that,” Daiki said, still chuckling.
“You’re not that bad,” Wasshi tried to reassure him, though he was smiling. “I bet we could all learn a lot if we had a professional come in. It’d be worth it, at least once, then we can decide afterwards if we really need one for other shows.”
Daiki nodded in agreement. “Suzuki-san’s been nice about letting me ask questions and watch things. I guess he figures since we’re paying him we can do anything we want, except make a mess of things.”
“How did that go anyway?” Wasshi asked. He clarified when he saw the confused look on Daiki’s face. “Earlier, about the wardrobe. Did he say anything?”
“Oh, that. No, not much,” Daiki said, leaning back to draw up one knee and clasp it to his chest. “He said he’d stop by and see it later, but told us not to unpack any more of it. He wasn’t upset or anything, just wanted the professionals to handle it.”
Wasshi nodded, looking a bit relieved by the news. “So where did it come from?”
“I dunno, I didn’t think to ask. Why?”
Wasshi drew his legs up so that he was sitting cross legged and facing Daiki. He didn’t answer immediately, and his thoughtful silence began to pique Daiki’s curiosity.
“Wasshi?”
Wasshi shifted and rolled his shoulders. “It’s about Tuti.”
“Ah yeah, I saw he was acting a little moody. Did something happen? He was fine earlier this morning, after he was done acting like a walking zombie that is.”
“I don’t know. Maybe? I think it started after the wardrobe came,” Wasshi said, scratching his fingers through his hair.
Daiki wrinkled his nose, brows furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Here Wasshi began to look a little uncomfortable. “Well, you remember when Eiji told us to clean up the mess?”
Daiki nodded. Oh yes, he well remembered that, and how much it had annoyed him to get dragged away like a misbehaving child. It was like Eiji had been expecting punishment to get dished out once they met the producer, which couldn’t have been further from the truth. Hell, they’d hired the guy, what was he going to do? Fire them? The whole thing was laughable, though Daiki had felt closer to snapping at Eiji in irritation at the time. He was their leader, so why was he getting treated like a kid?
“Well I went to get the barrel and broom, and when I came back Tuti was gone. I kind of figured right away he was planning something, so I just started cleaning up. Then he came bursting out of the wardrobe-”
Daiki fell back in peals of laughter. “He was hiding in the wardrobe? Oh I’m gonna kill him. So then what happened?”
But to Daiki’s surprise, Wasshi wasn’t smiling, and in fact he looked quite concerned and serious. “Well, it was weird. I thought he was just trying to scare me, but he kept asking questions, and he looked really upset.”
“What kind of questions?”
Wasshi crossed his arms, hugging himself a bit, as if considering how best to phrase his answer. “He thought he’d gone somewhere.”
“Well, yeah, inside the wardrobe right?” Daiki said, honestly confused.
Wasshi shook his head. “That’s what I thought at first, but he seemed really upset. When I asked him he denied it and told me to forget about it, but that was after. In the beginning, I think he really thought that he’d gone somewhere. He was surprised to still see me there.”
Daiki peered at Wasshi dubiously. “This is a joke, right? Did Tsuchiya set you up to do this?”
“No! No, he didn’t,” Wasshi protested. Daiki knew his long time friend well, and Wasshi didn’t appear to be lying, but this story wasn’t making any sense.
“I don’t get what you’re trying to say then, Wasshi. Tsuchiya’s got a few wires crossed and now he’s suddenly schizophrenic? Or maybe it’s just some really elaborate practical joke? What am I supposed to do about it? I mean, I noticed he was acting kinda moody, but this is Tsuchiya we’re talking about. He throws a fit of they’re out of his favorite curry and then completely forgets about it when you hand him a bowl of ice cream. He’ll probably drop it by tomorrow when no one gives in to play along with him.”
Wasshi nodded slowly after a moment, thinking this over. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I just… I’m kinda worried. You weren’t there. I’ve never seen him so freaked out before.”
“Maybe you should talk to him?” Daiki offered, watching his friend.
Wasshi shrugged. “You’re probably right. We should just leave him alone.”
“Nah,” Daiki said, pushing himself off the floor. “Now you’ve got me wondering too. Let’s go bug the guy, I’ll even come with you. Operation cheer-up Tsuchiya, ne?”
Wasshi smiled and allowed himself to be helped off the floor. They exited the stage together and navigated their way through the darkened wings, past tools and scrap cuts of lumber and tables littered with colored filters and light bulbs. They found a door to one of the branching hallways and let themselves into the narrow, carpeted space. Daiki was still a little turned around in this venue but Wasshi seemed to know the way, so he fell into step beside the older man.
“Hey, Daiki?”
“Yeah?” Daiki replied absently, mentally reviewing one of the scene changes he’d been contemplating modifying for the last few days.
“Is something up with you and Eiji?”
Daiki stopped walking, giving Wasshi an incredulous look when the other man turned back to look at him. “You noticed too?”
Wasshi nodded, his head tipping to the side. “Did something happen?”
Daiki shook his head, feeling a mixture of frustration and relief. “Not a damn thing. I don’t even know what’s going on. He’s just… I think he’s ignoring me.”
“Why?” Wasshi asked, moving back to stand beside him.
Daiki laughed humorlessly. “I have no idea.”
“Have you tried talking to him? When did this start?” Wasshi inquired, frowning in concern at Daiki’s clear stress over the situation.
Daiki shook his head in the negative at the first question. “I dunno. A month ago? Maybe more. At first I thought he really was busy, like he said he was, but even when I knew his schedule and knew he wasn’t busy he wouldn’t talk to me. He’d take forever to call me back, or not at all. He hasn’t stopped by to visit in a month and he never asks me to go out and eat anymore. Whenever he emailed me back it was short and totally disconnected, like he couldn’t be bothered to spend a lot of time on it. And he…”
Daiki paused, aware that he looked rather stupidly like a girl about to break down crying over something stupid, but this next thing had hurt the most. It was the clearest sign Daiki had held on to that things really had changed and he wasn’t making it up in his head. He knew that a lot of this behavior could be attributed to a busy schedule or Eiji just being forgetful, however out of character that seemed, but this last one was a big deal, at least to him personally. He hadn’t said anything so far to anyone because what he had to offer didn’t seem like a lot of proof, especially compared to the excuses Eiji had been feeding him, but Wasshi had noticed something was off. That was a huge comfort and also a bit scary, because it opened up the real possibility that he hadn’t been imagining things all along.
“He’s stopped using emoticons,” Daiki said quietly, biting his bottom lip. “Like, I know he still uses them on the blog, but not when he talks to me. The first time he did it I shrugged it off, I just thought he’d had a bad day, but it’s been the same. Every time. I really don’t know what I did and I know it’s stupid, but it’s really bothering me.”
Wasshi laid a comforting hand on Daiki’s thin shoulder and the smaller man sagged under the touch. “Wasshi, do you think he hates me?” Daiki asked, sounding small and worried.
Wasshi immediately shook his head. “I’m sure he doesn’t hate you. People don’t just suddenly stop being friends for no reason. It sounds like he’s got something on his mind and he’s just afraid to talk about it. It might not even have anything to do with you, but you’re his closest friend. When he’s ready to talk about it he’ll definitely come to you first. You just need to be patient.”
Daiki shook his head, having been over this a dozen times already in his own head. “Wasshi, it’s already been a month. A month. What if he never talks to me again?”
“Then you’ll have to make the first move,” was Wasshi’s advice, and he patted Daiki’s shoulder a few times. “If he doesn’t want to tell you then, at least you can make it clear to him that you’ll wait until he’s ready. Maybe that’s what he’s been waiting for all this time.”
It sounded silly but entirely possible, and Daiki felt real hope take root in his chest for the first time in weeks. He cared about Eiji, really cared about his best friend, but maybe all Eiji needed was just to be told that he could tell Daiki anything and it would be okay. Nothing he could say would scare Daiki or upset him, and knowing Eiji as well as he did it was entirely possible that the other man thought he was just protecting young and innocent Daiki from something he was turning into a bigger deal than it really was. There was always the possibility that it was something big and would hurt Daiki, but he was willing to take that risk. Eiji had to learn to trust him better, just like how Daiki unconditionally trusted Eiji, and surely if he showed him that it would make Eiji come around. He had to try.
Daiki smiled at Wasshi, giving him a grateful pat on the back. “Thanks for listening, Wasshi. I’ll give it a try.”
Wasshi nodded, looking extremely pleased with himself. “It’ll be okay. Eiji really cares about you. You’ll see.”
Daiki wondered why hearing Wasshi say that suddenly made his cheeks go pink. He turned his head and walked a few steps ahead of him down the hallway. “Well let’s go find Tsuchiya, make sure he hasn’t gone and locked himself into a closet.”
Wasshi eventually led them out of the backstage maze of twisting corridors, and they found themselves walking toward one of the break rooms with the dancer still no where in sight. They searched the lunch room, office, dressing rooms and makeup tables to no avail. On a hunch Wasshi led them back to the prop room, and there they found Tuti outside the door, his body leaning against the frame and his head turned to face into the room. His arms were crossed and his posture was noticeably rigid, not the normally fluid and flexible stance he often adopted, which was already setting off a dozen warning bells in Daiki’s head. Tuti was clearly lost somewhere and didn’t want to be disturbed, but Wasshi was either oblivious but didn’t care, since he continued approaching the other man.
Daiki sighed inwardly and followed behind, figuring he had a duty to at least hold up his end to accompany Wasshi, but at the first sign of trouble he was going to haul the well-meaning man out of there.
“Tsuchiya!” Daiki greeted, giving the dancer a brief wave.
Tuti noticed them and straightened up, his arms dropping to hang at his sides. “Hey,” he replied.
Daiki leaned past them to peer into the room and whistled. “Wow, great job guys. Not a speck of straw anywhere. We could hire you to do clean up in the evening.”
Wasshi chuckled a tad embarrassedly, but Tuti remained conspicuously silent. He was leaning against the frame again, peering into the room with a look of concentration that Daiki rarely saw on the actor’s face. He also looked absolutely terrified of stepping across the threshold.
“Tuti, are you okay?” Wasshi asked without preamble. Daiki barely resisted rolling his eyes at the lack of tact, despite Wasshi’s well meaning intentions.
Tuti seemed to shake himself, and turned to look at the two of them with several surprised blinks, as if only now realizing they were there. “Ah, yeah, I’m fine. Is something up?”
“You kidding? It’s more boring than a tea ceremony around here,” Daiki replied, making an attempt at humor. Tuti’s lips didn’t so much as twitch, which made Daiki frown. Something was definitely off about him.
“Oh, they unpacked the wardrobe,” Wasshi said from behind them. They all turned to look into the room, and indeed the remainder of the box and packing material had been disposed of, leaving only the gleaming structure of oak to stand tall and imposing at the back of the room.
“Aa,” Tuti said, his gaze once more fixed unwaveringly on the container of wood and carvings.
Daiki turned to look over his shoulder at Wasshi, clearly asking the other man what he should do now with Tuti being so frustratingly unresponsive. Wasshi only looked surprised and shrugged, perhaps not having expected this reaction either. One thing was clear though, they needed to get Tuti away from this room and this strange fixation he’d developed on a piece of furniture. Maybe without the distraction around they’d get him to open up and talk a bit more. Now that Daiki’s personal problems seemed less immediately pressing he was feeling up to the challenge of trying to weasel a laugh or even a complete sentence out of the dancer.
“Come on, Tsuchiya-san,” Daiki said, clapping a hard hand on the taller man’s shoulder. He grinned at Tuti’s surprised look. “We’re going to go eat, and you’re coming with us.”
Tuti started to shake his head but Wasshi, taking the hint, moved in and began to steer Tuti from behind away from the room. “We’re going to get curry,” Wasshi added, hoping to entice the other man.
It worked, however subdued the reaction was compared to the usual happy bouncing that went along with such an declaration. “Oh, really? Well what are we waiting for, I’m starving.”
Daiki shared a puzzled look with Wasshi behind the dancer’s back, who was gladly leading them toward the building’s exit, and he knew both of them were thinking the same thing. What was the real reason behind Tuti’s strange behavior, and what did the wardrobe have to do with it?
Author: KY
Genre: pnish/TeniMyu/Narnia crossover
Characters/pairings: TutixNagayan, MorixDaiki, KazukixShirota, SaitoxAoyagi, various others, *pnish*
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3,930
Summary: *pnish*, the chosen humans destined to become Kings of Narnia and do battle against the White Warlock and the minions of his ice palace, must return peace and eternal summer to this mythical world.
Tuti was, to say the least, acting strange, which was strange to say in the first place because this was Tuti, and strange and Tuti had been born joined at the hip like a set of Siamese twins. Daiki supposed that he had just never seen Tuti so… well, detached was the only word he could come up with.
Ever since he and Eiji had come back from talking to their producer, Tuti had seemed a little off-the dancer was too quiet by far, and Daiki hadn’t heard him crack a lame joke at anyone’s expense in over a half hour. Not that he had time to worry about Tuti, or particularly wanted to, since a silent and withdrawn Tuti was actually one that let their meetings progress unimpeded, if not a little more boring than usual. The more half-hearted answers they got from the other man the more it seemed to dampen the atmosphere, to the point where even Wasshi was no longer hiding the puzzled, side-long glances he kept throwing the dancer. It couldn’t be helped though. They were busy and this play was not going to put itself together by itself, so if Tuti was having a little off-day it wasn’t Daiki’s concern.
Especially when he had his own thought consuming issues to deal with, which for once didn’t involve paint colors or costume pieces or finding out where their missing shipment of flyers had gone off to. Daiki figured that the rigorous schedule of all these preparations was the only thing keeping him from going off the deep end and punting Eiji’s ass into next week, or at the very least giving the man a very colorful and snippety piece of his mind. Not that Eiji had done anything wrong, but Daiki would eat his glasses if it turned out that he was making up the feeling he’d had for the past few weeks that Eiji was ignoring him.
Oh he hadn’t done anything blatant, like blowing Daiki off for lunch-though it had been a month since they’d even done that together-but Daiki had noticed a serious decrease in their normal friendly activities to the point where he was ready to call a confrontation. The majority of his texts and phone calls were being left unanswered with lame excuses about being busy or asleep coming back at Daiki whenever he asked about it. Which he had stopped doing over a week ago. Eiji no longer offered to meet him at the station in the morning, let alone walk home with him. There were no invitations to come out drinking, even when he knew Daiki would probably say no, and Daiki hadn’t seen a surprise visit with take-out dinner in almost a month and a half. He was hurt and confused, and for the life of him couldn’t understand what could have brought about this change between them. Whatever stick Eiji had up his ass Daiki intended to find out about it and see it promptly removed so things could go back to normal.
If he could get Eiji to talk to him seriously, that is.
“Eiji, wait!” Daiki shouted, jogging down the hallway.
Eiji stopped but didn’t turn around, his attention half focused on a yellow poster tacked to the wall. He didn’t face Daiki when the man reached his side. “What is it?”
“Um…” Daiki stalled, pondering. “Did… you get to try on your costumes yet? The seamstress is only going to be here today, so everyone’s gotta get in for their fittings. I mean, she’s not here yet, but she’ll be here later, maybe in an hour, so I just thought, you know, you should get it out of the way now so you know what you need to tell her.”
Eiji waved him off. “Its fine, I’ll do it later.”
Daiki wrung his hands while they stood there in a few awkward seconds of silence. Eiji finally turned his head and looked at Daiki, his expression closed and unreadable. Daiki swallowed. “Hey… did you want to get lunch? We can pick up stuff for everyone?”
“You can get whatever you like. I already brought mine,” Eiji replied. He turned around and walked down the hallway in the direction he’d been heading earlier.
Daiki hung his head until he was overcome with the urge to kick the table leg next to him. This really was getting to be too much. Eiji clearly didn’t want to talk to him or have anything to do with him, and not only was it confusing but it hurt like hell. Daiki turned around and went in search of Wasshi.
He found his friend in the company of one of the stage hands, quietly discussing some of the merits of using different types of props, though it sounded like the hired help was having a good time sharing stories with the mild-mannered man and making them both laugh. Daiki watched them in the dark wings for a few minutes, always at a loss when he observed Wasshi’s ability to get along with perfect strangers, no trace of nervousness or hesitation to smile and make conversation. It was something Daiki still hadn’t mastered even to this day and something he admired deeply about his oldest friend.
Certainly Wasshi never got tripped up over his own words because he was too excited to speak at a normal pace, and Wasshi never had moments of insecurity about his acting like Daiki seemed plagued with. Wasshi was a perfect character actor and comedian, and even though Daiki knew he was better at dancing it wasn’t much of a comfort when the only dancing in this piece was coming in the end after the curtain call. Normally Daiki went to Eiji concerning his insecurities and the senseless worries he sometimes needed to voice aloud, but Eiji’s distance hadn’t lessened when pre-production began the other week, much like Daiki had been hoping it would. He felt untethered and lost, and admittedly a little worried about the coming weeks of rehearsals and working with Eiji in close quarters. If things weren’t fixed by then, what was going to happen? Was he going to lose his best friend for good? Would the play suffer? Would the whole thing get called off because they couldn’t work together? It was the first time Daiki had been faced with the chilling possibility of a schism forming in pnish. And it would be his fault.
The stage hand was called away, leaving Wasshi alone in the middle of a stage lit by a quarter of the bright spot lights, and Daiki chose then to step out of his hiding place. Wasshi turned at the sound of his sandals scuffing across the wood surface and gave Daiki a warm smile. Daiki returned it and moved to sit on the edge of the stage, where Wasshi joined him after a moment, their feet dangling off the edge into the air.
“It’s coming along,” Wasshi said, gesturing with his head to the emerging scenery behind them.
Daiki twisted his head to view the set-up and nodded, knowing that pretty soon the stacks of painted lumber and scattered props would transform into something amazing. He turned to face the rows upon rows of empty seats, the back wall of the small theater just visible beyond the spotlights. Still too small. “Aa, everyone’s working really hard.”
“Especially you,” Wasshi said, smiling gently. “How are you holding up?”
Daiki smiled and shrugged. “I’m fine actually. A lot of things got taken out of my hands having a producer this time. I’m still amazed we were even able to afford to have one.”
“Yeah. First time for everything huh. Maybe next time we’ll even have a choreographer?”
Daiki laughed. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Besides, what’s wrong with my choreography?”
They stared at each other for a moment before both dissolved into laughter.
“Okay, okay, don’t answer that,” Daiki said, still chuckling.
“You’re not that bad,” Wasshi tried to reassure him, though he was smiling. “I bet we could all learn a lot if we had a professional come in. It’d be worth it, at least once, then we can decide afterwards if we really need one for other shows.”
Daiki nodded in agreement. “Suzuki-san’s been nice about letting me ask questions and watch things. I guess he figures since we’re paying him we can do anything we want, except make a mess of things.”
“How did that go anyway?” Wasshi asked. He clarified when he saw the confused look on Daiki’s face. “Earlier, about the wardrobe. Did he say anything?”
“Oh, that. No, not much,” Daiki said, leaning back to draw up one knee and clasp it to his chest. “He said he’d stop by and see it later, but told us not to unpack any more of it. He wasn’t upset or anything, just wanted the professionals to handle it.”
Wasshi nodded, looking a bit relieved by the news. “So where did it come from?”
“I dunno, I didn’t think to ask. Why?”
Wasshi drew his legs up so that he was sitting cross legged and facing Daiki. He didn’t answer immediately, and his thoughtful silence began to pique Daiki’s curiosity.
“Wasshi?”
Wasshi shifted and rolled his shoulders. “It’s about Tuti.”
“Ah yeah, I saw he was acting a little moody. Did something happen? He was fine earlier this morning, after he was done acting like a walking zombie that is.”
“I don’t know. Maybe? I think it started after the wardrobe came,” Wasshi said, scratching his fingers through his hair.
Daiki wrinkled his nose, brows furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Here Wasshi began to look a little uncomfortable. “Well, you remember when Eiji told us to clean up the mess?”
Daiki nodded. Oh yes, he well remembered that, and how much it had annoyed him to get dragged away like a misbehaving child. It was like Eiji had been expecting punishment to get dished out once they met the producer, which couldn’t have been further from the truth. Hell, they’d hired the guy, what was he going to do? Fire them? The whole thing was laughable, though Daiki had felt closer to snapping at Eiji in irritation at the time. He was their leader, so why was he getting treated like a kid?
“Well I went to get the barrel and broom, and when I came back Tuti was gone. I kind of figured right away he was planning something, so I just started cleaning up. Then he came bursting out of the wardrobe-”
Daiki fell back in peals of laughter. “He was hiding in the wardrobe? Oh I’m gonna kill him. So then what happened?”
But to Daiki’s surprise, Wasshi wasn’t smiling, and in fact he looked quite concerned and serious. “Well, it was weird. I thought he was just trying to scare me, but he kept asking questions, and he looked really upset.”
“What kind of questions?”
Wasshi crossed his arms, hugging himself a bit, as if considering how best to phrase his answer. “He thought he’d gone somewhere.”
“Well, yeah, inside the wardrobe right?” Daiki said, honestly confused.
Wasshi shook his head. “That’s what I thought at first, but he seemed really upset. When I asked him he denied it and told me to forget about it, but that was after. In the beginning, I think he really thought that he’d gone somewhere. He was surprised to still see me there.”
Daiki peered at Wasshi dubiously. “This is a joke, right? Did Tsuchiya set you up to do this?”
“No! No, he didn’t,” Wasshi protested. Daiki knew his long time friend well, and Wasshi didn’t appear to be lying, but this story wasn’t making any sense.
“I don’t get what you’re trying to say then, Wasshi. Tsuchiya’s got a few wires crossed and now he’s suddenly schizophrenic? Or maybe it’s just some really elaborate practical joke? What am I supposed to do about it? I mean, I noticed he was acting kinda moody, but this is Tsuchiya we’re talking about. He throws a fit of they’re out of his favorite curry and then completely forgets about it when you hand him a bowl of ice cream. He’ll probably drop it by tomorrow when no one gives in to play along with him.”
Wasshi nodded slowly after a moment, thinking this over. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I just… I’m kinda worried. You weren’t there. I’ve never seen him so freaked out before.”
“Maybe you should talk to him?” Daiki offered, watching his friend.
Wasshi shrugged. “You’re probably right. We should just leave him alone.”
“Nah,” Daiki said, pushing himself off the floor. “Now you’ve got me wondering too. Let’s go bug the guy, I’ll even come with you. Operation cheer-up Tsuchiya, ne?”
Wasshi smiled and allowed himself to be helped off the floor. They exited the stage together and navigated their way through the darkened wings, past tools and scrap cuts of lumber and tables littered with colored filters and light bulbs. They found a door to one of the branching hallways and let themselves into the narrow, carpeted space. Daiki was still a little turned around in this venue but Wasshi seemed to know the way, so he fell into step beside the older man.
“Hey, Daiki?”
“Yeah?” Daiki replied absently, mentally reviewing one of the scene changes he’d been contemplating modifying for the last few days.
“Is something up with you and Eiji?”
Daiki stopped walking, giving Wasshi an incredulous look when the other man turned back to look at him. “You noticed too?”
Wasshi nodded, his head tipping to the side. “Did something happen?”
Daiki shook his head, feeling a mixture of frustration and relief. “Not a damn thing. I don’t even know what’s going on. He’s just… I think he’s ignoring me.”
“Why?” Wasshi asked, moving back to stand beside him.
Daiki laughed humorlessly. “I have no idea.”
“Have you tried talking to him? When did this start?” Wasshi inquired, frowning in concern at Daiki’s clear stress over the situation.
Daiki shook his head in the negative at the first question. “I dunno. A month ago? Maybe more. At first I thought he really was busy, like he said he was, but even when I knew his schedule and knew he wasn’t busy he wouldn’t talk to me. He’d take forever to call me back, or not at all. He hasn’t stopped by to visit in a month and he never asks me to go out and eat anymore. Whenever he emailed me back it was short and totally disconnected, like he couldn’t be bothered to spend a lot of time on it. And he…”
Daiki paused, aware that he looked rather stupidly like a girl about to break down crying over something stupid, but this next thing had hurt the most. It was the clearest sign Daiki had held on to that things really had changed and he wasn’t making it up in his head. He knew that a lot of this behavior could be attributed to a busy schedule or Eiji just being forgetful, however out of character that seemed, but this last one was a big deal, at least to him personally. He hadn’t said anything so far to anyone because what he had to offer didn’t seem like a lot of proof, especially compared to the excuses Eiji had been feeding him, but Wasshi had noticed something was off. That was a huge comfort and also a bit scary, because it opened up the real possibility that he hadn’t been imagining things all along.
“He’s stopped using emoticons,” Daiki said quietly, biting his bottom lip. “Like, I know he still uses them on the blog, but not when he talks to me. The first time he did it I shrugged it off, I just thought he’d had a bad day, but it’s been the same. Every time. I really don’t know what I did and I know it’s stupid, but it’s really bothering me.”
Wasshi laid a comforting hand on Daiki’s thin shoulder and the smaller man sagged under the touch. “Wasshi, do you think he hates me?” Daiki asked, sounding small and worried.
Wasshi immediately shook his head. “I’m sure he doesn’t hate you. People don’t just suddenly stop being friends for no reason. It sounds like he’s got something on his mind and he’s just afraid to talk about it. It might not even have anything to do with you, but you’re his closest friend. When he’s ready to talk about it he’ll definitely come to you first. You just need to be patient.”
Daiki shook his head, having been over this a dozen times already in his own head. “Wasshi, it’s already been a month. A month. What if he never talks to me again?”
“Then you’ll have to make the first move,” was Wasshi’s advice, and he patted Daiki’s shoulder a few times. “If he doesn’t want to tell you then, at least you can make it clear to him that you’ll wait until he’s ready. Maybe that’s what he’s been waiting for all this time.”
It sounded silly but entirely possible, and Daiki felt real hope take root in his chest for the first time in weeks. He cared about Eiji, really cared about his best friend, but maybe all Eiji needed was just to be told that he could tell Daiki anything and it would be okay. Nothing he could say would scare Daiki or upset him, and knowing Eiji as well as he did it was entirely possible that the other man thought he was just protecting young and innocent Daiki from something he was turning into a bigger deal than it really was. There was always the possibility that it was something big and would hurt Daiki, but he was willing to take that risk. Eiji had to learn to trust him better, just like how Daiki unconditionally trusted Eiji, and surely if he showed him that it would make Eiji come around. He had to try.
Daiki smiled at Wasshi, giving him a grateful pat on the back. “Thanks for listening, Wasshi. I’ll give it a try.”
Wasshi nodded, looking extremely pleased with himself. “It’ll be okay. Eiji really cares about you. You’ll see.”
Daiki wondered why hearing Wasshi say that suddenly made his cheeks go pink. He turned his head and walked a few steps ahead of him down the hallway. “Well let’s go find Tsuchiya, make sure he hasn’t gone and locked himself into a closet.”
Wasshi eventually led them out of the backstage maze of twisting corridors, and they found themselves walking toward one of the break rooms with the dancer still no where in sight. They searched the lunch room, office, dressing rooms and makeup tables to no avail. On a hunch Wasshi led them back to the prop room, and there they found Tuti outside the door, his body leaning against the frame and his head turned to face into the room. His arms were crossed and his posture was noticeably rigid, not the normally fluid and flexible stance he often adopted, which was already setting off a dozen warning bells in Daiki’s head. Tuti was clearly lost somewhere and didn’t want to be disturbed, but Wasshi was either oblivious but didn’t care, since he continued approaching the other man.
Daiki sighed inwardly and followed behind, figuring he had a duty to at least hold up his end to accompany Wasshi, but at the first sign of trouble he was going to haul the well-meaning man out of there.
“Tsuchiya!” Daiki greeted, giving the dancer a brief wave.
Tuti noticed them and straightened up, his arms dropping to hang at his sides. “Hey,” he replied.
Daiki leaned past them to peer into the room and whistled. “Wow, great job guys. Not a speck of straw anywhere. We could hire you to do clean up in the evening.”
Wasshi chuckled a tad embarrassedly, but Tuti remained conspicuously silent. He was leaning against the frame again, peering into the room with a look of concentration that Daiki rarely saw on the actor’s face. He also looked absolutely terrified of stepping across the threshold.
“Tuti, are you okay?” Wasshi asked without preamble. Daiki barely resisted rolling his eyes at the lack of tact, despite Wasshi’s well meaning intentions.
Tuti seemed to shake himself, and turned to look at the two of them with several surprised blinks, as if only now realizing they were there. “Ah, yeah, I’m fine. Is something up?”
“You kidding? It’s more boring than a tea ceremony around here,” Daiki replied, making an attempt at humor. Tuti’s lips didn’t so much as twitch, which made Daiki frown. Something was definitely off about him.
“Oh, they unpacked the wardrobe,” Wasshi said from behind them. They all turned to look into the room, and indeed the remainder of the box and packing material had been disposed of, leaving only the gleaming structure of oak to stand tall and imposing at the back of the room.
“Aa,” Tuti said, his gaze once more fixed unwaveringly on the container of wood and carvings.
Daiki turned to look over his shoulder at Wasshi, clearly asking the other man what he should do now with Tuti being so frustratingly unresponsive. Wasshi only looked surprised and shrugged, perhaps not having expected this reaction either. One thing was clear though, they needed to get Tuti away from this room and this strange fixation he’d developed on a piece of furniture. Maybe without the distraction around they’d get him to open up and talk a bit more. Now that Daiki’s personal problems seemed less immediately pressing he was feeling up to the challenge of trying to weasel a laugh or even a complete sentence out of the dancer.
“Come on, Tsuchiya-san,” Daiki said, clapping a hard hand on the taller man’s shoulder. He grinned at Tuti’s surprised look. “We’re going to go eat, and you’re coming with us.”
Tuti started to shake his head but Wasshi, taking the hint, moved in and began to steer Tuti from behind away from the room. “We’re going to get curry,” Wasshi added, hoping to entice the other man.
It worked, however subdued the reaction was compared to the usual happy bouncing that went along with such an declaration. “Oh, really? Well what are we waiting for, I’m starving.”
Daiki shared a puzzled look with Wasshi behind the dancer’s back, who was gladly leading them toward the building’s exit, and he knew both of them were thinking the same thing. What was the real reason behind Tuti’s strange behavior, and what did the wardrobe have to do with it?