[ The impromptu show goes off without a hitch. Some pass them by, thinking their song a nuisance, if not nothing special, while others pause for a moment or two, if only to witness the novelty of an Augmented's avantgarde performance. By the end, a small crowd offers applause, some polite, some enthusiastic, and a couple even leaves trinkets in Rinne's guitar case. It's no DreamFes victory, but being an idol was never about that.
Rinne's nose lingers on the scent of their audience long after they're gone, his gaze trained in their direction as he digs his claws into the bench and digests what had just happened. ]
That was the first applause I've gotten in a while...
[ It's so much better than performing alone. He couldn't imagine what it would have been like without Takasugi's support. But that's not what a seasoned idol should say during times like these, is it? A quirk of his lip gives way to a brighter grin as he turns to his business partner. ]
Heheh, what'd I tell ya? I'm... a professional—
[ Something in the air is sticky and sweet the way a deer is as he skins it. His nostrils flare, and he turns away before he leans in and does anything that might damn them both. Blood, sweat — they were easier to ignore when music took over him. But now...
Someone in the crowd called them twin foxes. Is that what he was? He's seen foxes in forests and how they laughed as they frolicked with their own kind. This urge within him felt far more shameless than that.
He shoves his guitar back in its case and locks it quickly. ]
( the last time takasugi starting shifting, it was driven by his overwhelming excitement, and not just alarm.
here, he hasn't fully embraced it yet; it's just his hands and chest, and those ears that are starting to fold a bit on top of his head without him realizing it, but— )
You don't want to celebrate our victory? Though I guess we didn't exactly cash in, and my pockets aren't as lined as yours, for obvious reasons.
( he says it with an audible pout, almost on purpose. they didn't play to total exhaustion, and it's fine to stop. it was a solid win with a few bumps along the way, and who wouldn’t want to wipe off all this sweat and focus on getting their body back to normal after all that stress? plus, judging from their hilariously similar changes and the way every part of this park is playing on his senses, it must be the same for rinne, too.
but.
it feels like a toy is being snatched away, just like that. he wipes the back of a fur-covered hand across his forehand, taking the time to stand upright, and then tries to do the same for a cheek of rinne's that's been turned away from him. )
Edited (correction... it's a park) 2025-04-10 16:54 (UTC)
[ His ears perk up. His fair skin flushes quickly with heat. No one but Niki's ever touched his cheek like that. When you're raised to lead, it just doesn't happen. But the fear of being vulnerable loses to the comfort that comes with Takasugi's soft fur, especially as he's made to face him.
Oh, god. The scent is bad enough, but seeing his face just makes Rinne want to tear into him more. He pushes Takasugi's hand away to pick up his guitar. ]
I'm already drunk.
[ Rinne doesn't bother with his usual volume or obnoxiousness. For some reason, his body has determined there's no longer a need for that. ]
I didn't like the shamisen, anyway. You're too good-looking, so don't stand next to me. I can do it alone next time, so just worry about the money.
[ The rapid-fire excuses come one after another. Anything to keep Takasugi safe before he can get out of here. ]
he draws back the swatted hand, holding it up to his face, not a one of those statements enough to make takasugi flinch. if anything, the red on rinne's face and the little white lies are making him a bit easier to read. he's got to be overwhelmed, or deeply touched by what little reception they received, especially considering that comment he made quietly as they let the audience's waning energy wash over them.
right. he doesn't flinch at all, until a scent that isn't his makes his skin prickle.
it must've transferred when takasugi rubbed the back of his palm against him, this scent. as the pleasure of it warms his blood, he pauses awkwardly to take it in. to which, it... really does smell good, this particular musk of rinne's. not that he'll comment on it any. he can hold it in, even as a heat spreads down his belly and he feels a sudden strange urge to shove rinne over into the grass. at least, for now. )
Giving the cold shoulder to your first fan? Hey, it's totally fine to admit you had a good time. No need to feel embarrassed about it. Thinking on it, I really should've lugged Mini Arahabaki out here to record us. Lack of foresight on my part. Though, judging by the audience reaction, they might've taken matters into their own hands. Who knows. We might hear some gossip later about how a couple innocent citizens were accosted by a couple fox-men.
( negging rinne is a good distraction, as he refastens the scraped shamisen. and because he can't resist, heady with the smell of everything blooming and of all that sweat: )
You sure love to comment on how gorgeous I am all the time, don't you?
[Shut up. Rinne has his back turned towards Takasugi, so why is he still talking? He recognizes this all too well: when he wants someone to stay, Rinne can't stop rambling either. It's true, Rinne is moved that they got attention at all. He can't be any more grateful. But god, now is really not the time...
Rinne hastily wipes the drooling corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. He swallows thickly.]
So? I call it like I see it. Don't get too excited. People tell you that all the time, don't they?
It's my job as an idol to sell my image. What I say, what I wear—every choice I make is deliberate. Maybe it ain't the whole truth, but at least it's what I wanna do. Yet all of that comes to you like it's second nature... 'Course I'm gonna say you're cool.
[Takasugi using his shamisen to protect him was really cool.]
( oops. now's really not the time to push on those red flags, huh.
and though rinne doesn't notice it, with his back turned, the corners of takasugi's mouth set in a firm line.
second nature? he'd still be your average nobody without that school and that mentor, trapped in his domain with nothing but the golden cage of a comfortable life and everyone trying to spoil him further. he wasn't like sakamoto-kun, who seemed to soar effortlessly through the skies even past his death. his wings had been clipped twice now, and he won’t get another chance unless he puts in the effort here. )
Sure. Being an idol is about lying to your audience, then. I can get that. Even the most renowned tayu put their heart into every stroke of their calligraphy, no matter how silly or dull the message may be.
( he tap, taps a claw against the strap holding up his instrument. pensive. )
But that doesn’t mean your sound can't be authentic. Why limit yourself with all those frustrating restrictions in another world?
( when you've only got one life to live, even.
well... whatever. he smooths an ear out as he turns to leave, giving rinne's back a little wave. he'd rather come down from the awkward changes to his body alone, and spend time taking note of certain things that didn't happen last time for later. )
[The thing no one taught Rinne about being sad is that you get so deep inside your head and wallow in that pool of self-pity that you forget the other parts of you.
You're not the flawless heir to your father's legacy. You're not the unruly rebel who ran away from home. You're not even the idol who fought tooth and nail to earn every last scrap of love in those overflowing boxes of fan mail.
You're just a boy. Lost. And you stay lost as long as you let the water close over your head.
But then... a hand grabs yours. Pulls you up. You break the surface and suddenly, you remember: the fire in your chest, the dream in your hands, the self you were building before the weight dragged you under.
Rinne had always wanted to become an idol he could love.
When Takasugi asks him the same question he asks the crowd—the one that always sends a ripple through the stage lights—a spring breeze cuts through the still waters, electric and alive.
Rinne doesn't look back. He doesn't want to make hunger this worse. Instead, his fingertips trace and linger where Takasugi's hand had been, recalling the brief comfort it gave him before restraint compelled him to pull away.]
It was fun...?
[He balls that same hand into a fist. He's gotta get out of here. Back in his hometown, calling someone delicious is a compliment. This time, he's afraid he might mean it in every way.]
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no subject
Rinne's nose lingers on the scent of their audience long after they're gone, his gaze trained in their direction as he digs his claws into the bench and digests what had just happened. ]
That was the first applause I've gotten in a while...
[ It's so much better than performing alone. He couldn't imagine what it would have been like without Takasugi's support. But that's not what a seasoned idol should say during times like these, is it? A quirk of his lip gives way to a brighter grin as he turns to his business partner. ]
Heheh, what'd I tell ya? I'm... a professional—
[ Something in the air is sticky and sweet the way a deer is as he skins it. His nostrils flare, and he turns away before he leans in and does anything that might damn them both. Blood, sweat — they were easier to ignore when music took over him. But now...
Someone in the crowd called them twin foxes. Is that what he was? He's seen foxes in forests and how they laughed as they frolicked with their own kind. This urge within him felt far more shameless than that.
He shoves his guitar back in its case and locks it quickly. ]
Thanks, Prez. I gotta go.
no subject
( the last time takasugi starting shifting, it was driven by his overwhelming excitement, and not just alarm.
here, he hasn't fully embraced it yet; it's just his hands and chest, and those ears that are starting to fold a bit on top of his head without him realizing it, but— )
You don't want to celebrate our victory? Though I guess we didn't exactly cash in, and my pockets aren't as lined as yours, for obvious reasons.
( he says it with an audible pout, almost on purpose. they didn't play to total exhaustion, and it's fine to stop. it was a solid win with a few bumps along the way, and who wouldn’t want to wipe off all this sweat and focus on getting their body back to normal after all that stress? plus, judging from their hilariously similar changes and the way every part of this park is playing on his senses, it must be the same for rinne, too.
but.
it feels like a toy is being snatched away, just like that. he wipes the back of a fur-covered hand across his forehand, taking the time to stand upright, and then tries to do the same for a cheek of rinne's that's been turned away from him. )
no subject
Oh, god. The scent is bad enough, but seeing his face just makes Rinne want to tear into him more. He pushes Takasugi's hand away to pick up his guitar. ]
I'm already drunk.
[ Rinne doesn't bother with his usual volume or obnoxiousness. For some reason, his body has determined there's no longer a need for that. ]
I didn't like the shamisen, anyway. You're too good-looking, so don't stand next to me. I can do it alone next time, so just worry about the money.
[ The rapid-fire excuses come one after another. Anything to keep Takasugi safe before he can get out of here. ]
no subject
he draws back the swatted hand, holding it up to his face, not a one of those statements enough to make takasugi flinch. if anything, the red on rinne's face and the little white lies are making him a bit easier to read. he's got to be overwhelmed, or deeply touched by what little reception they received, especially considering that comment he made quietly as they let the audience's waning energy wash over them.
right. he doesn't flinch at all, until a scent that isn't his makes his skin prickle.
it must've transferred when takasugi rubbed the back of his palm against him, this scent. as the pleasure of it warms his blood, he pauses awkwardly to take it in. to which, it... really does smell good, this particular musk of rinne's. not that he'll comment on it any. he can hold it in, even as a heat spreads down his belly and he feels a sudden strange urge to shove rinne over into the grass. at least, for now. )
Giving the cold shoulder to your first fan? Hey, it's totally fine to admit you had a good time. No need to feel embarrassed about it. Thinking on it, I really should've lugged Mini Arahabaki out here to record us. Lack of foresight on my part. Though, judging by the audience reaction, they might've taken matters into their own hands. Who knows. We might hear some gossip later about how a couple innocent citizens were accosted by a couple fox-men.
( negging rinne is a good distraction, as he refastens the scraped shamisen. and because he can't resist, heady with the smell of everything blooming and of all that sweat: )
You sure love to comment on how gorgeous I am all the time, don't you?
no subject
Rinne hastily wipes the drooling corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. He swallows thickly.]
So? I call it like I see it. Don't get too excited. People tell you that all the time, don't they?
It's my job as an idol to sell my image. What I say, what I wear—every choice I make is deliberate. Maybe it ain't the whole truth, but at least it's what I wanna do. Yet all of that comes to you like it's second nature... 'Course I'm gonna say you're cool.
[Takasugi using his shamisen to protect him was really cool.]
( 1 / 2 )
and though rinne doesn't notice it, with his back turned, the corners of takasugi's mouth set in a firm line.
second nature? he'd still be your average nobody without that school and that mentor, trapped in his domain with nothing but the golden cage of a comfortable life and everyone trying to spoil him further. he wasn't like sakamoto-kun, who seemed to soar effortlessly through the skies even past his death. his wings had been clipped twice now, and he won’t get another chance unless he puts in the effort here. )
Sure. Being an idol is about lying to your audience, then. I can get that. Even the most renowned tayu put their heart into every stroke of their calligraphy, no matter how silly or dull the message may be.
( he tap, taps a claw against the strap holding up his instrument. pensive. )
( 2 / 2 )
( when you've only got one life to live, even.
well... whatever. he smooths an ear out as he turns to leave, giving rinne's back a little wave. he'd rather come down from the awkward changes to his body alone, and spend time taking note of certain things that didn't happen last time for later. )
It was fun, Amagi-kun. I'll be in touch.
no subject
You're not the flawless heir to your father's legacy. You're not the unruly rebel who ran away from home. You're not even the idol who fought tooth and nail to earn every last scrap of love in those overflowing boxes of fan mail.
You're just a boy. Lost. And you stay lost as long as you let the water close over your head.
But then... a hand grabs yours. Pulls you up. You break the surface and suddenly, you remember: the fire in your chest, the dream in your hands, the self you were building before the weight dragged you under.
Rinne had always wanted to become an idol he could love.
When Takasugi asks him the same question he asks the crowd—the one that always sends a ripple through the stage lights—a spring breeze cuts through the still waters, electric and alive.
Rinne doesn't look back. He doesn't want to make hunger this worse. Instead, his fingertips trace and linger where Takasugi's hand had been, recalling the brief comfort it gave him before restraint compelled him to pull away.]
It was fun...?
[He balls that same hand into a fist. He's gotta get out of here. Back in his hometown, calling someone delicious is a compliment. This time, he's afraid he might mean it in every way.]