It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure them out, no matter how discrete they think they’re being. It’s not as if we’re blind, really, although it is fun to play dumb for their sakes. Fun, indeed.

The way they look at each other, it’s almost like they’re love struck teenagers rather than career making twenty-somethings. Have you ever seen grown men swoon? SWOON! It’s almost sickening. Still, we play dumb, Kai, Uruha and me. It’s not like pointing out the obvious will make things easier on them.

They stand very near one another in a crowd; they show up together and leave rooms together. Kai told me that he rounded a corner to find them coming out of an embrace. They didn’t see him, but Kai was certain that it was more than a friendly hug. I even came across them in the hall once and saw them almost holding hands. Just the gentle brushing of fingertips as they walked, a constant and light contact. It was beautiful, if you want to be all mushy about it.

“Does he really think that avoiding Rei onstage and doing fan service with me is going to throw us off the trail?”

I look in the mirror and grin at Uruha. My fellow guitarist was slipping into a regular button-down shirt, his stage shirt lying over the back of the chair next to him. I wipe the cool, wet towel across my face, my eyes flickering to the prone shape of Kai lying on the floor, his hands resting in buckets of ice.

Uruha follows my gaze, worry creasing his face for a moment before he starts working on removing his leggings. My fingers are incredibly sore and my ears are ringing, but I’m basking in the glow of another successful live.

“Where’d they get off to this time?” Kai asks weakly, cracking open one eye to look from Uruha to me. “They vanished as soon as we came off stage, didn’t they?”

“They sure did,” Uruha says, laughing as he pulls a pair of jeans on. “They do that pretty often now.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Kai shifts his hands in the ice, groaning, and closes his eye again. Poor kid…

Reita slips into the room, trying to keep from looking guilty, and collapses into the seat beside me. I smile at him in the mirror, taking in his exhausted features. Dark circles are prominent beneath his eyes, barely concealed by the cloth he sports across his face. Moments later, Ruki saunters in and collapses near Kai. A young woman hurries in to place a towel beneath his head and a cool cloth across his face. He mutters his thanks as she leaves.

Finally, it’s just the five of us in the room. Silence falls as I move to change my clothes. From the other side of the room, I watch Reita in the mirror. He’s casting longing looks at Ruki, his eyes conveying everything he thinks no one else can see. I can tell that Uruha sees this too, because he gives me a wink and a smile as he moves to Kai’s side.

“Come on, drummer boy,” he remarks, strong arms tugging our leader to his feet. “Let’s get you ready to go home.”

Uruha takes care of Kai, so I throw myself onto the couch, waiting until Ruki is ready so I can help him up. Reita won’t do it anymore.

I wonder why they won’t just come out and tell us what we already know. But I suppose, when they’re ready, they’ll let us know. Until then, we’ll all keep playing dumb. Rei’s still casting glances at Ruki as he moves to change. I see Ruki’s eyes open slightly, just enough that he can watch. I roll my eyes discretely. Voyeur.

“Aoi?”

“Coming, Ruki.”

I pull our vocalist to his feet, bending slightly to make up for his short stature. Reita quickly leaves the room, a blush burning in his cheeks. Bad boy, Reita. Very bad.

I chuckle, earning an odd look from Ruki. Shaking my head, I prop him on a stool and start working him out of his stage costume.

“I love him, Aoi,” Ruki says abruptly.

Insert act of surprise here.

I fumble a button.

“What? Who?”

“Reita,” Ruki says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love him.”

I fall silent, biting back the “I know” that is poised on the tip of my tongue. We’re both silent as I finish pulling him out of his leather clothing and hand him his softer, more pliant street clothes. I wipe the make up away with another cool cloth. He thanks me and stumbles out the door.

I sit alone in the dressing room, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I suppose being the oldest among us, – my God, am I really almost thirty? – I tend to take things differently than the others. I get the feeling that Ruki knows that we suspect something, and this was just his way of confirming our suspicions. Truthfully, I couldn’t be happier for the two of them. Especially after having been in love with Reita myself for a while.

Soon, though, we have to let them know. We have to tell them that it’s okay, that we support them. Ruki’s afraid of hurting the band, and Reita’s afraid of hurting Ruki. We’re all afraid of something. But this, this is something wonderful. We’ll have to get them to open up about it. Show them that we care and understand, that we’re happy for them.

We really are.

I hate to think that I’m holding Reita back. Because Reita knows how I felt about him. And he’s afraid of hurting me. I’ve got to change that. I’ve got to let Reita know that he can move on without worrying about me. I’ll live, he knows that. I just want them to do more than almost hold hands in the hall. I want Reita to be happy.

“Hey, Aoi. Are you coming?”

I turn at the familiar voice. He’s there in the doorway, smiling at me. I smile back, knowing that it’s somewhat strained.

“Yah, I’m coming.”

“Awesome.”

He moves to leave the room again.

“Hey, um, Reita? Can… can we talk?”