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Yusuke is writing a song. This shouldn’t be surprising- the boy is in a band. He’s the lead singer, in fact. But Kuwabara is in the same band, and he knows for a damn fact that Yusuke treats the song writing process like the damn plague.
“It’s just not my thing,” he’d always say, fiddling with Botan’s keyboard while the others brainstorm. He’d give a theme, throw out an idea that Kurama would run with, maybe give some suggestions on word choice (he is the one who’d be singing after all), but deemed lyricism something beyond him. Even as musically inclined as the boy is, he doesn’t write music down either. Says it’s “too much hassle.” Not that Hiei has ever complained. He has enough trouble letting Kuwabara help.
Kuwabara has never particularly minded this about Yusuke. Not for the normal reasons, at least. None of them have. The band runs well regardless. Leaves less room for arguments if anything.
So why is Yusuke holed up in his house writing a song? What did Kuwabara miss? He was only gone for a week. Shizuru forced him to take a break from the band for finals, and he’s finally free. Only now Yusuke is…writing music?
“The hell happened,” he asks Kurama as the boy plucks at his strings. His head is lowered enough that Kuwabara can see the black roots of his hair. He’ll probably have Kuwabara help him do a new dye job tonight. “You get tired of doing all the heavy lifting?”
Kurama chuckles. “Not at all. I love writing. But Yusuke has something personal he wanted to take care of. Got hit with inspiration, so to speak.” Kuwabara scratches his head with one of his drumsticks.
“Personal?” Kurama smiles a little, still not looking up as he tunes his guitar.
“I think he wanted to try something…romantic. A grand gesture.” Kuwabara swallows, putting his sticks down.
“That doesn’t sound like him.” Kurama sighs at that, putting his guitar down as well.
“I said the same thing. But he’s made up his mind.” And there’s no arguing with Yusuke once that happens. Kuwabara tilts his head back in his chair, looking at the ceiling. This must be about Keiko.
Yusuke isn’t a romantic, not in the slightest, so the only reasonable explanation is he’s finally trying to win Keiko back. He and Keiko were nothing if not unstable, but they’ve also known each other way longer than even Kuwabara has been in the picture. Childhood sweethearts. They’re always splitting up, but this recent break has been the longest yet. Two months. Maybe that’s what’s got Yusuke worried enough that he’d take on songwriting all of a sudden.
Kuwabara forces a laugh, sitting back up to grin at Kurama. “It’s about time the bastard kicked his ass into gear! Girls like Keiko don’t come along every day.” Kurama hums, checking his watch before standing.
“I should go help my mother with dinner.” He waves at Kuwabara to stay put when the redhead starts to stand. “Guests don’t help. House rules, I’m afraid. I’ll come get you when it’s ready.” Kuwabara wishes he hadn’t been left to his own devices. It’s not like he can concentrate on his drumming now. Not when after bugging Yusuke to write his own song for years, Kuwabara lost out to Keiko yet again, without her even having to so much as hint that Yusuke should try it. Not that there was any other outcome. She’s in a totally different league.
Kurama told him to wait, but if he sits around here stuck in his thoughts, he’ll just end up bumming himself out over something inevitable. Kuwabara has no idea why he got used to Yusuke and Keiko being split up in the first place. It’s not like Yusuke would ever…
Kuwabara makes a frustrated sound and gets out of his chair so fast he nearly knocks it over. Even if Kurama insists, Kuwabara could at least…set the table or something.
“I just hope it goes well.”
“It won’t. This is ridiculous and unecessary. I don’t understand why we can’t just-”
“Kuwabara! You’re just in time.” Kurama noticed him as soon as he got to the doorway to the dining area. He hadn’t wanted to eavesdrop, but he was really curious about what they were talking about. He’s about to ask but Shirori comes out of the kitchen bearing a big pot. Kurama rises, probably to help her, but she shakes her head at him.
“I can handle this much, Shuichi. Why don’t you dish your friends up?” She smiles at Kuwabara. “It’s good to see you again, Kazuma. I hear you’ve been busy.” Kuwabara grins at her, somewhat sheepish. It doesn’t look like Hiei and Kurama are gonna pick up their conversation again, what with the way Hiei is watching Kurama prepare his bowl. Probably none of his business, anyway.
“Yeah, finals were rough. It’s good to see you too!”
“Suck up,” Hiei sneers as he accepts his food. Shiori smiles fondly as Kurama scolds Hiei for being an asshole around his mom, and Kuwabara doesn’t think about how Yusuke should be here, too.
“What d’ya mean I can’t hear it?”
“Pipe down, Kuwabara! You’ll get to listen when it’s done alright?”
“Could you two please stop bickering over there? We’re supposed to be choosing which songs we’ll play at Saturday’s show.”
“Let them fight, Kurama,” Hiei drones boredly, looking down at what they have so far. “Idiots shouldn’t weigh in on important decisions, anyway.” Kuwabara scoffs but drops Yusuke’s collar.
“You’re full of shit, Urameshi. I know you already have Kurama and Hiei helpin’ you. What’s the big deal?” Yusuke sighs, fixing his shirt.
“It’s not a big deal, I just-”
“He’s embarrassed.” Hiei offers. “Because-”
“Because I know you’ll give me shit!” Yusuke interrupts, glaring at Hiei, who just glares back. Kuwabara looks to Kurama for help, confused as to why those two are at it all of a sudden. He’d been the one arguing with Yusuke, right? The guitarist simply shakes his head, reaching past Hiei to make an adjustment.
“I would not,” Kuwabara denies, indignant. Well, he might give Yusuke a little shit. But it’s not like he has room to talk, and Kuwabara says as much. “You’re worse than I’ll ever be.” Kuwabara’s short lived crush on Yukina had suffered from Yusuke’s inability to not be an asshole, and they both know it. Yusuke huffs.
“Still,” and he’s glaring at Kuwabara, but not angrily. More determined, giving him pause. “I don’t wanna show you ‘til I know it’ll be the best damn song you ever heard.”
Oh, yeah. It’s been a while, so Kuwabara almost forgot. It’s kinda stupid, in hindsight, but Urameshi had been his rival, once upon a time. If you could call it a rivalry. Yusuke, who only came to school to monopolize the music room, and Kuwabara who wanted to do nothing but play something, anything. Both self-taught, but Yusuke clearly outclassed him in every way. It pissed him off and inspired him in equal measure. He’d corner Yusuke in that neglected music room, trying to find a piece he could play better on whatever instruments they had at their disposal and failing each and every time.
Yusuke was a natural and he knew it. He could differentiate chords by ear whether it was played on the school’s grand piano or the acoustic Kuwabara would nab from Shizuru every now and then. If Yusuke could sing it, he could play it, and Yusuke could sing just about anything. He was a one man show.
He always insisted that he’s no good on drums, though. Kuwabara still has his suspicions about that, because he’s never seen Yusuke so much as try. Even so he’d swing by Kuwabara’s just to watch and grin wide and wild as he slammed his sticks to his heart’s content. Percussion isn’t exactly center stage, but Yusuke would still marvel at the sheer amount of noise and power. Probably something to do with the childlike wonder that comes with slapping your hand on something just to realize you can make a sound. At least, that’s why Kuwabara loves it, and they tend to read off the same page.
“It’s music when you do it, Kuwa,” he’d said once, back when Kuwabara had been taking a break from playing, over something stupid he can’t really remember. Probably his bravado failing to manifest into real confidence yet again. “Anybody can take a stick to a snare drum. But it won’t be half as good as what you can do just by tapping a pencil on your desk. You put your whole stupid heart into the beat. What you do is music, and it’s a waste acting like it’s not fuckin’ badass. So, stop being such a sad sack, will ya?”
Yusuke hadn’t looked Kuwabara in the face before he walked off, probably too embarrassed about how mushy he’d been, but if he had he would’ve seen Kuwabara’s face red enough to stop traffic. It was then he realized the rivalry, the constant competition was just an excuse he made to keep Yusuke close. At some point it stopped being about wiping the smug grin off Yusuke’s face and started being about keeping it there. Yusuke was always going to be better than him, and Kuwabara delighted in it.
Not even a week after that, Yusuke had invited himself over (broke into Kuwabara’s room via the window) and told Kuwabara he’s starting a band, and Kuwabara is his drummer. It wasn’t a question. And he’d complained about Yusuke making decisions by himself, but he knew it wasn’t something he had to be asked.
Along the way, Yusuke had picked up Kurama from a higher grade and Hiei from God (or maybe the devil) knows where, and they became a bonafide band. Sort of. Regardless, their challenges in the music room came to a halt to make room for practice sessions in Kurama’s garage.
There was this incomplete, open-ended contest looming over them though. One of the first ones Kuwabara issued. “Fine. Since you’re such a savant,” Kuwabara had huffed as Yusuke lazily opened one eye to glare at him for interrupting his nap. “Write a song.” Yusuke had scoffed and closed his eye again, but Kuwabara wasn’t going to let this go. “You’re so great at everything, you can write some lyrics.”
“Not my thing.”
Kuwabara kicked one of the chairs Yusuke was reclining on, causing him to yelp and scramble not to fall. “Not really mine either, but I’m gonna write one, and it’s gonna be awesome, and you’re gonna lose by default ‘cause you’re too scared to-ACK.”
Yusuke had sat cross-legged on Kuwabara abdomen after successfully throttling him, frowning thoughtfully. “Fine. Whatever, since you got such a kink for losing. I’m not doing this on a time limit though. I got better shit to focus on.” Kuwabara could only grin around his swollen cheek, because he’d won, really. Yusuke had agreed.
“I can wait.”
It had slipped Kuwabara’s mind; it’d been years after all, but Yusuke apparently didn’t forget. From the way he’s glaring up at Kuwabara, he remembers. They’re supposed to be each other’s judge, nothing but their own preferences and opinions to go off of. Hardly a fair competition, something a fourteen-year-old Kuwabara had come up with on the spot. But still Yusuke took it to heart, and it makes Kuwabara’s own practically soar, before it stalls, and crashes, and burns because this isn’t really for Kuwabara.
It's not for that stupid challenge he came up with, it’s not just between them anymore. It’s really Keiko’s song, and Yusuke just gets the added satisfaction of winning yet another point against Kuwabara. Whether Kuwabara had baited him into writing some lyrics or not, Yusuke probably would’ve ended up writing this song anyway. Because Keiko made it finally worth it to sit down and crank one out.
Still, he has to, pathetically, hold onto the fact that Yusuke remembered, and cares enough that he won’t let Kuwabara see until it’s the final product, just like they hashed out years ago. It’s for Keiko, but he thought about Kuwabara a little, even if he was just thinking about proving him wrong. In a way, he’s lucky. Now he won’t be forced to think of a reason why he can’t help Yusuke prepare the masterpiece that’s gonna win Keiko back.
“Alright,” he sighs. “This song better rewrite my DNA after all this. You gonna at least gimme the sheet music?” Yusuke grins at his acquiescence.
“Stop speaking nerd and I’ll write some up for you, Cram School.”
“It doesn’t take a genius to know what DNA is, you’re just stupid!”
Later on, it’s quiet except for the scratching of pencils and the occasional strumming coming from either Hiei or Kurama. Kuwabara is unable to bring himself to do anything but stare out the garage door windows, waiting for the sun to set so he can get the hell out of here.
Kuwabara isn’t going to cry. He’s not. The drums in this song are going to be excellent, he’s going to make sure of it. He’s going to memorize this drum notation, play the damn song better than he’s ever played before. He’s gonna make sure to tease Yusuke when it’s over and done with, be totally cool and supportive even when he’s bickering with Keiko like they’ve been married for years.
“Kazu?” Uncharacteristic concern in his sister’s voice has Kuwabara blinking, only for tears to fall on notes he’s been trying to memorize. Oh. That’s why she’s worried. Immediately Kuwabara starts scrubbing his face.
“That’s weird! I must be tired or something,” he laughs, but it comes out uneven, and he can’t look at Shizuru. He feels the couch dip as someone sits beside him.
“Kuwa-chan?” Botan asks. “Is something wrong? You’ve been so quiet all night. It’s not like you.” He was about to change the subject, maybe complain about Botan backhandedly calling him loud, but Shizuru interrupts him.
“Working on something new?” She has his notes in her hand, when did she even swipe that?
“It’s Urameshi’s.”
“Oh? About time.” She eyes Kuwabara. “Monumental enough to bring you to tears?”
Kuwabara scoffs. “Yeah, right. ’M just exhausted. Someone had me busting my ass over finals and now I’ve been working on this song. I’m gonna crash soon, you guys can eat without me.”
The phone starts ringing and it’s the perfect excuse to get out of this conversation. “Kuwabara residence,” he sighs once he picks up.
“I finished.” Kuwabara perks up at the sound of Yusuke’s voice.
“Urameshi?”
“I finished the song. It’s ready for the show.”
“Wh- already? The show’s in two days! Are you really gonna try it so soon?”
“I gotta. Gonna lose my nerve otherwise. What, don’t think I can do it?” Kuwabara can hear his grin from here, and he huffs.
“Can and should are two different things, y’know. ‘Sides I just got the music. We haven’t even done a rehearsal together yet!”
“So, we’ll play it together tomorrow.”
“You’re gonna let me hear it then, right?”
“…”
“Uramesh-”
“Calm down! We’ll practice instrumental, okay?”
“Why won’t you just-”
“Get some sleep, big guy. Gonna be an early day.” He hangs up before Kuwabara can point out that Yusuke is the one that sleeps until the afternoon more often than not.
He rubs his forehead. Yusuke wants to play his song at the show, knowing Kuwabara hasn’t heard the whole thing. All he knows is that it’s got an American 80s vibe, and he knows from Kurama it’s a love song. Incredibly cheesy, especially for a guy like Yusuke. It’s more Kuwabara’s style than anything, being the only one really into songs from the states, and the fact that Yusuke wrote a song like this without asking him for guidance even once rubs him the wrong way. Why does Yusuke even care about those dumb rules; Kuwabara made them up when they were in grade 8!
“Kazuma.” Kuwabara looks up to see his sister in the doorway. “We talking about this? Or are we ignoring it until later.” He walks past her.
“It’s nothin, Shizu. I told you, I’m just tired.”
“Ignoring it, then.” She pats him on the back and lets him go. “Once that gets old, my door’s open.” She’s probably already got him figured out, but at least she’s leaving it alone for now. Kuwabara just has to hold out until after they perform this song, anyway.
He’s not gonna cry. But if he does, it’s not like his pillow is gonna tell anybody.
The rehearsal went fine, much to Kuwabara’s chagrin. It’s not like it was the first time he went into a song not knowing the lyrics. He doesn’t memorize every song Kurama comes up with, and he definitely doesn’t know the words to all the songs they’re frequently asked to cover, so this isn’t really that big of a deal. He’s still miffed, though.
Yusuke had spent the rehearsal nagging and adjusting, humming a verse here and there to guide. In turn, Kurama, Hiei, and Kuwabara offered their own suggestions about what changes could be made. Maybe change how long they play during pauses in the lyrics, or how long a pause is in the first place. Usually, Yusuke at least pretends to put up a bit of a fight when Kuwabara wants to change something, but he okay-ed every recommendation Kuwabara had. It was freaky.
“You’re bein’ less of a tyrant than usual,” he’d intoned, eyeing Yusuke suspiciously as he erased something from his music sheet. Yusuke hadn’t even looked up, busy scribbling.
“Is it that hard to believe your input makes sense? Your self-esteem is only getting worse, buddy. They got remedial lessons for that?” The topic dropped when they got into another fight over what exactly Kuwabara does in school these days, being the only one who’s a highschooler amongst them.
Yusuke had deemed the song “as ready as it’ll ever be” that night, to everyone’s relief. He didn’t really give himself time to back out, which was likely by design.
Now they’re about to be introduced to the bar like they’re not here every Saturday, and Kuwabara’s been dreading this, but the only one who looks ready to bolt is Yusuke. “You good, man?” He asks unnecessarily, because Yusuke looks anything but good.
Even in this dark Kuwabara can tell he’s pale, and he’s rocking on his heels, like he can’t stop moving for the life of him, so Kuwabara stills him with his hands on his shoulders. Yusuke’s eyes focus on his, and Kuwabara wonders if he even heard his question. He can’t go on like this.
“It doesn’t have to be today. The song’s fresh, and you’re freaking out. It’s not gonna kill you to wait until next time.” Or until you can get Keiko alone so that I don’t have to watch. Yusuke blinks at him before huffing a laugh, pulling away from Kuwabara’s hold before he starts fiddling with the zipper on his jacket.
“Speak for yourself. I’m just itching to get on stage!” Kuwabara gives him a flat look but doesn’t argue.
“It’s a good song.” Yusuke stills, but doesn’t say anything, as if he’s waiting, so Kuwabara continues. “I haven’t heard the whole thing yet, but…they’ll love it.” She’ll love it. “They love everything you come up with.” I love everything you come up with. Even if everyone else hates it, I never will. It’s the best song I’ve ever heard, even though I haven’t even heard it all. Even though it’s not for me. Kuwabara sucks in a breath. “You don’t need me to tell you you’re good at what you do, so let’s haul ass to the stage, alright?”
Finally, Yusuke straightens up and looks at him, smile too soft. “I told you, I’m just anxious to get out there. But, by all means, keep complimenting me.” Kuwabara shoves him as they make their way.
“Last time I try to help your ungrateful ass.”
“Yeah, whatever man. Just don’t drop your sticks.”
“That was one time!”
It goes great. It’s a pretty packed night, and Atsuko blows them kisses from her stool. Botan even brings her keyboard up for a song or two while Shizuru takes over filming for her. They do the usual, popular requests, even taking some suggestions from the crowd, as long as they all know them, and manage to play more than a couple originals.
Kuwabara loves this. He can do this despite the bile building the closer they get to Yusuke’s big reveal, the nausea being pushed to the back to make way for how good it feels to be up here. While the pretty boys up front hold the crowd’s attention Kuwabara feels the beat he’s creating with his own two hands, with his feet, keeping time as he takes it all out on the drums, any and every emotion, his whole body moving with the effort. He's hidden back here, behind his set, sitting while the others stand in front of him, their backs his way, always, always.
But that’s fine by him, these days. People don’t come to the show to see the drummer. But there’s no beat, no tempo without him. An integral part of the group, even from way back here, so it doesn’t matter much to him that he’s not the most popular member. Not more than what he’s creating.
The night’s coming to a close, and Yusuke sits at the edge of the stage, getting the audience’s attention (not that he ever lost it). "This is a little...off brand; trust me, I know. Uh, most all of you know by now I can’t write for shit,” he pauses for the laughs. “But I wrote this anyway." Cheers make Yusuke chuckle, but it's shaky. The audience will blame it on his voice being tired, but Kuwabara knows better. He figures Keiko must be front and center, looking up at Yusuke, the one person that could possibly make him this nervous.
"Feel free to boo if you hate it, but it's really for one person anyway, so, suck it up til the end at least." More cheers and applause as Yusuke rises to his feet once again. Kuwabara knows the audience must be intrigued. Yusuke’s never done this before, after all. They probably wanna see this as much as Kuwabara wishes he could skip out. The other members prepare their instruments. Kuwabara exhales before raising his arms, drumsticks aloft.
Little over two minutes. Just play it like rehearsal. He grins into his microphone.
“One, two, three, four!”
He may not know the words, but he knows the rhythm, the timing, these notes. Obsessed over it even, making sure he knows his part to play in this musical confession inside and out. He'll drown out the words that'll never be for him, easy. Just pay attention to his own internal metronome that tells him when to hit, let everything else flow through him enough so he can keep time.
Ignore how pretty it sounds all together like this, finally getting to pair Yusuke’s voice with the music he wrote. Ignore the fact that Yusuke even went as far as singing in English (he sucks at English, how much did he have to practice this?) to complete the American style.
Don’t think about how this song was built to sway to in the kitchen alone with the person you love. Finish it, finish it, finish it!
Kuwabara comes back to himself as the audience roars. Whistles and cheers fill the tiny bar, and his eyes fall on Yusuke. Yusuke, who isn’t facing the crowd, but him. People are giving a great reception, but Yusuke is clearly waiting on something from him. What does he want? Reassurance that he did well? Kuwabara was supposed to be the judge of whether the song was good or not, according to that dumb bet, so maybe. Yusuke almost looks like he’s holding his breath, and Kuwabara wishes he hadn’t been too much of a coward to listen properly.
He beams at Yusuke because the pride is real. Yusuke has always avoided the music writing process and lyricism; sure he wasn't cut out for it. But this shows that he can. With proper motivation, he can. And Kuwabara is so glad he finally got to see it happen. Even though it hurts something awful, the way it came about, he really is glad.
Yusuke’s shoulders sag as he returns the smile before he's back in his persona, projecting nothing but confidence as he turns back to face the crowd, accepting the praise he's earned. Kuwa's wide grin melts into something softer. Maybe a little sad. He can tell Hiei and Kurama are looking at him, but he keeps his eyes on Yusuke as he thanks everyone for coming out tonight.
They’re packing up when Shizuru and Botan come backstage. There’re some people with them, probably friends they invited to the show. Kuwabara pays them no mind until a girl approaches him, eyes wide and…glistening?
“Uh…”
“You’re Kuwabara. It’s so, so, so amazing to meet you. In person, I mean. I’ve been to your shows before, of course.”
It’s then Kuwabara realizes the shirt she’s wearing isn’t the band’s general merch, or some other member’s, but his specifically. A mulberry tree untouched as lightning hits the earth around it. This girl is his fan.
“I’ve been a fan of Sound of Sanzu since you guys started! You’re all great, but drumming is just,” she sighs, and Kuwabara grins, leaning down a little.
“It’s the best, right?” She nods emphatically.
“I always thought drumming was cool, but the way you play gives me goosebumps. I’ve been wanting to learn, but I really don’t know where to start. I don’t know a whole lot about, well, anything.” Kuwabara hums, still a little blown away by the praise. He’d been there.
“Well, I started in my school’s music room. Me and Urameshi. Pretty sure none of their instruments had been upgraded since the 50s.” She’s younger than him, probably about the age he’d been when they started out. She’s got plenty of time to figure out what she’s gonna do, plenty of time to learn. “We didn’t know anything either, back then, as good as Urameshi sounds on the mic. So, I think you got a good chance of giving us a run for our money someday soon, if you wanted to try.”
Kuwabara isn’t in a place where he can tell people to “go for it.” It’s not like they’re especially successful or have a lot of prospects. They’re a cover band, and people outside of this town have no idea who they are, probably. But this girl clearly thinks the world of them, for some reason. Like they really are stars. He doesn’t want her to think her dreams are nearly that far.
“You got a name?”
“Oh! Yes, um. Hoshiko. Hoshi!”
“Ya got something you want me to sign, Hoshi?” Silently she passes him a CD she’s been clutching. It can’t be popular. It’s only got their own songs on it. She really is a fan, huh? A smile tugs on Kuwabara’s lips as pulls out his sharpie to write. The day had been pretty rough, but this made it a million times better. There’s a lot Kuwabara can’t reach. That much was made clear tonight. But for Hoshi?
The stars are at your fingertips, Hoshi!!
She gapes down at the CD when he hands it back, before looking at Kuwabara again, and he’s a little worried she might actually cry. He tries for levity. “I wouldn’t say you don’t know anything about music. You know a good drummer when you see ‘im.” She laughs, thankfully. He waves off her countless thank yous as she returns to her group, mood lifted significantly.
“Bit young for you, don’t you think?”
“Fuck off, Urameshi,” he says automatically. Yusuke is coming off too bitter, and the thought only solidifies when he turns to look at the other boy. He’s frowning at Kuwabara from the wall he’s leaning on, and he can’t for the life of him figure out why. The show went great, so what’s his deal?
“Sorry, sorry. Shitty joke.” He pushes off the wall and gets closer, hands in his pockets. “Just uh. Nervous, I guess.” He laughs humorlessly, and Kuwabara can’t help but wonder why the hell he’s even here. He was sure Yusuke’d be long gone with Keiko by now. He’s being shifty, and, well, spiky. Kuwabara’s eyebrows furrow.
“S’wrong?” Yusuke clicks his tongue, clearly on edge.
"Keeping me waiting isn't real gentleman like, y'know.” Now Kuwabara is doubly confused.
"Well excuse me. How was I supposed to know you were waiting? I thought you an' Yukimura already went on ahead." Yusuke gains a look of confusion as well.
"What? Dude, Keiko isn't even here. She was bus- why are we talking about Keiko right now?" Kuwabara just stares back at Yusuke, at a loss. Why wouldn't they be talking about Keiko? Why in the hell did Yusuke pick a day she wouldn't be available? Was he just planning to give her Botan's recording?
Yusuke stares at him in disbelief before making an alarmingly loud, frustrated sound, hand running through his hair. “Are you kidding me? All that planning and- god damn it! You-” He stops short, face going from looking like he’s going to slam his fist into Kuwabara’s face to…something worse. Something sad. “No wonder you played so damn well. You were ignoring me.” Kuwabara winces, but he can’t deny it.
Yusuke sighs before backing out of Kuwabara’s space entirely. “Fuck.” Without another word he takes off, and Kuwabara still doesn’t fully understand what went wrong.
“Damn you, Kuwabara!” He jolts out of his stupor just to see Hiei glowering at him. The fans are long gone, and everyone’s kinda…staring at him. He swallows, mouth dry. Nothing is adding up in a way that makes sense, and now everyone’s looking like him like he’s missed something big. Kurama’s stare in particular is especially sympathetic, which inspires all kinds of worry in Kuwabara. He’s holding Hiei back with a hand on his shoulder like that’ll be enough to stop the guy when he looks this murderous. "I did not spend weeks working on that ridiculous excuse for a song for this.”
“Hiei, I don’t think he-”
“I’ll make him understand.” Quicker than lightning Hiei is upon him, yanking Kuwabara down so they’re at eye level. “That song wasn’t for that ex of his, or any other arbitrary person you could possibly think up. It’s for you. If you had a brain under that ridiculous pompadour, you wouldn’t need me to spell it out for you.” He lets go but Kuwabara stays where he is, shellshocked. “Now hurry and accept his feelings before I kill both of you for putting me through this.”
Kurama sighs but doesn’t refute anything Hiei said. Instead, he goes for his songbook, taking a page from the binder and holding it out to Kuwabara. “I told Yusuke it might not work out quite right if he did it this way. He insisted he wouldn’t get up the guts unless he was on stage, though.” He smiles a little as Kuwabara takes the page from him. “Bonus points if he got you to drop your drumsticks, he said.” Kuwabara lets out a sound that falls somewhere between a laugh and a whimper.
Of course Yusuke would pull something like this. Willing to ruin a song in front of a full house just to get the satisfaction of seeing Kuwabara completely stunned by his confession. But that’s not the reaction he got. He barely got anything because Kuwabara hadn’t been listening, and he needs to track that asshole down right now.
“I. I gotta go.”
“Finally,” Hiei mutters. Well wishes from Botan (and a warning from Shizuru that he owes her for cleaning up his shit) follow him as he tears out of the bar, mentally running through all the places he should check.
Only Yusuke isn’t at any of them. He’s not at his house. Not at the park, not out gambling, not on the roof of the laundromat. He does this sometimes. Disappears. Only thing Kuwabara can do is wait for Yusuke to come to him, which is fair. If Kuwabara had just worked up the courage to listen the first time around he wouldn’t be trudging to his own house in defeat. Still, the disappointment eats at him.
Disappointment that Yusuke hadn’t given him a little more time for him to wrap his head around the impossible, in himself for not seeing it was actually very possible. God, he wasted so much time torturing himself over his unrequited feelings. It’s ridiculous in retrospect: the jealousy, the guilt for said jealousy, the silent pining. Cram school is supposed to make you smarter right?
His pity party is interrupted by the fact that Yusuke is sitting on his bed when he finally gets to his bedroom, acoustic in his lap. "Thought you'd never come home. What took ya?" Kuwabara closes his mouth. Yusuke is still nervous, more nervous than before even. His leg is bouncing, and he’s not looking Kuwabara in the eye. Kuwabara isn’t exactly calm himself, but he’s more anxious than anything. Anticipatory, now that he knows. Even so, he doesn’t really know what to do. Find Yusuke had been the objective, and now that’s complete and he’s just standing by the door, motionless.
Kuwabara’s heart is about to abandon his chest, but he moves further in, closing the door behind him. “I was lookin’ for you.” Yusuke pauses in his tuning, which he should’ve finished ages ago if he’s been here all this time.
“Oh. Well,” he shrugs. “Here I am.” Kuwabara wants to sit on the bed with Yusuke, but decides against it, going for the floor in front of him instead. Yusuke winces a little, since he’d been looking down to avoid looking at Kuwabara.
Maybe that’s what all the theatrics were for. So Yusuke wouldn’t have to look his way while he poured his heart out. Face the crowd and it’s like Kuwabara isn’t there. Well, tough, because Kuwabara is taking the position of the audience now. Because the song’s for him.
“Sorry I wasn’t listening like I should’ve. Thought it was for someone else.” Yusuke laughs, derisive.
“Yeah, I figured, when all you could talk about was Keiko. You’re more hung up on her than I ever was.” It’s not like Kuwabara can really begin to explain why it had been so important to him that Yusuke and Keiko stayed with each other. If he says he never thought Yusuke could be happy with anyone but her, that the two of them working out would make all the pain worth it just to see Yusuke happy, he knows Yusuke will just think that’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard. And it is stupid, so he keeps his mouth shut, and waits for Yusuke to finish.
“Not your fault, though,” he sighs. “I should’ve just listened to Kurama. Could’ve avoided this whole shit-show. I just…” He trails off, so Kuwabara pinches his leg.
“Why do somethin’ so big? S’not really like you.”
“I know,” Yusuke groans, probably having heard that from Kurama and Hiei enough. “But I thought-” He lays his guitar flat on his lap, and the strings hum a little with the movement. “It was the type of thing you’d do.”
Kuwabara suddenly understands a whole lot more. At its core You Snuck Your Way Right Into My Heart is the type of song only Kuwabara would enjoy. Extremely reminiscent of 80s American rock. He’d even written and sang the lyrics in English, as if that wasn’t enough. The fact that Yusuke didn’t argue with any of Kuwabara’s suggestions for the drums. This big dramatic way of confessing is something Kuwabara probably would’ve done. Every decision Yusuke made, stylistically or otherwise, was made with Kuwabara in mind, and what the hell is Kuwabara supposed to do in the face of all that, that deliberation? That sweetness he never expected from Yusuke?
“You’re not wrong,” he says, mouth twitching into a smile he can’t keep off his face. “But why do something I would do?” Yusuke’s glaring at him now, and it only makes Kuwabara’s smile get bigger.
“I wanted you to like it. Obviously.” He kicks Kuwabara. “Idiot.”
“You’re the idiot! Why the hell would I want you to do all this extra shit you’d never do when I fell in love with you?” Amazing how easy that sorta thing can slip out when you’re not guarding it with your life anymore. He doesn’t regret it, especially with the wide-eyed look Yusuke is giving him. “You don’t gotta try so hard, man. You’re already pretty much stuck with me.”
“Just shut up and listen this time, will ya?” Kuwabara concedes, watching as Yusuke gets his bearings. It’s always a treat whenever Yusuke remembers he can play the guitar. It’s Kuwabara’s worst instrument, he’s abysmal on it, and Yusuke has always teased him for it. As if drums and strings are close enough that he can just get it like Yusuke always has.
Even with all that natural talent, Yusuke doesn’t look nearly as confident as he usually does before a performance, which Kuwabara revels in. Yusuke shines on stage, thrives, which Kuwabara loves to see. But this is good, too. Because he didn’t get to really see Yusuke properly freak out when preparing this song, locked out of the writing process as he was. But now it’s all right here. The uncertainty, the last second fiddling with the tuning pegs, the way he fumbles the pick a little as he gets ready.
He eyes Kuwabara again before closing his eyes. The room filled only with the gentle hum of Kuwabara's desk lamp and Eikichi's steady purr from his pillow until Yusuke's starts strumming.
It's honestly a little funny. It's unserious, the lyrics. But that's the point. Would it really be Yusuke's song if it wasn't kinda ridiculous? But the acoustic guitar really helps the softness come through, making sure the song doesn't actually come off as a joke. Ninja of Love he says. Something Kuwabara would've known was for him had he been tuning in the first time. Yusuke knows how he gets about ninjas being conflated with samurai, true warriors. A deliberate dig, done with genuine fondness. Something that tugs on his sleeve and says I know you!
It really is blatantly written for him. Because Keiko came before Yusuke's walls had been built up. Kuwabara had to chip at them, find some way in, and apparently, he took Yusuke off-guard when he noticed Kuwabara had made his way in. Kuwabara almost wants to close his eyes too, to focus solely on the sound, but he can't make himself take his eyes off Yusuke.
Kuwabara rises to his knees when the song ends and Yusuke opens his eyes, jumping a little at their proximity. He swallows. “Well?” He demands, looking wary, as if Kuwabara could be anything but ecstatic after that. Gently, he takes the guitar, and Yusuke lets him move it to the side. He wants Yusuke to stop looking anywhere but his face, so hesitantly Kuwabara cups his face.
“I was tryna tell you earlier. I love everything you come up with. But this especially.” Yusuke relaxes in his hold. “Don’t play it at another show, though.” Yusuke’s eyebrows pull together, until he takes in Kuwabara’s pointed look, and gets that shit-eating grin.
“Afraid I’ll actually make you drop your sticks, huh?”
Kuwabara scoffs. “Yeah, laugh it up while you can, cause if you pull something like that on stage again, I'm just gonna kiss you in front of everybody." It's hard to tell in this lighting, but Kuwabara can feel Yusuke's cheeks warm under his palms, even as the boy's smile widens. One of his hands comes up to cover Kuwabara's, keeping it there. "Promise?"
Kuwabara frowns, but it doesn't really work because his face wants to do the opposite. "Well…I dunno. I wouldn't want the first time to be on stage. You're supposed to have rehearsals first."
Yusuke nods with faux seriousness. "Like before any show."
"Right."
"I don't think there's any time like the present." Kuwabara doesn’t point out the fact that Yusuke is a notorious procrastinator. Instead, he meets him in the middle.
Their first try is a complete failure because they're both smiling way too much. That's just fine, though. Practice makes perfect.