30 Kisses, (14) Zutto Nakama

Title: Zutto Nakama [Kawai/Tsukada]
Rating/Warnings: PG
Summary: It’s the longest month of Kawai’s life, except the month it takes to recover.
AN: 30 Kisses, day 14, coming in just under the wire for the day! Woo! Also it’s Kawai’s foot he broke right? Er, I think so.

Zutto Nakama

For the couple days of the enforced rest, Kawai is a model patient, meek for screwing everything up, and right before filming too. It wears off fast enough, though, Kawai’s inability to do anything when he’s used to doing fifteen things at once driving him to the brink of sanity.

Or at least that’s what he complains about on the phone. He’s been forbidden to come to the theater on the grounds that if they so much as let him hang around in the dressing room they’ll never keep him off the stage (and rightly so). The other members pass the phone around while they change and dress and warm up and torment kouhai or are in turn tormented by senpai.

“Tottsuuuuu,” Kawai sighs, so melodramatic, “do you know what you need your foot for? Everything! My mother won’t let me come down the stairs! She has my sister on guard duty to tattle on me if I so much as try to come out to refill my juice!”

“Aw, poor Fumikyun, there there,” Totsuka soothes, balancing the phone between his face and shoulder while he tries to undo the quadruple-sextuple knot with which Hashimoto’s sneaker is inexplicably tangled which his own. “Damn your life of leisure.”

“It’s a juiceless life of leisure!” Kawai protests. “Put Ryosuke back on, he understands about sisters.”

But Kawai never gets to talk to Hashimoto, because Yara plucks the phone away from Totsuka’s ear, having snuck up behind him silently, making him yip in surprise.

“So sorry to interrupt your quaint chatter,” Yara says pleasantly, “but I’m afraid I’ll need my dancers just now, running a stage show, you know. Or at least, my dependable dancers.”

“Ouch. Go bang Yamaryo on the set or something, why don’t you,” Kawai grumbles, but he changes his tone almost immediately. “Let me at least come hang out tomorrow, please? You’ve always been my favorite senpai, you know that, right Yaracchi? Pleeeease?”

“I’ll be sure to pass that on to Tsubasa,” Yara promises, “in those exact words. Bye, now.”

“Yara-senpaiii!” Kawai tries to protest, but it’s already too late, the connection dropped. He curse and lobs his phone out into the hallway in a fit of pique.

He regrets it when he sister tattles on him for creeping out to try and retrieve it.

Even when he is allowed to come hang out, it’s still the longest month of his entire life, the longest he’s gone without dancing since before puberty, and he heartily wishes to never go nearly as long ever again. Hashimoto and Totsuka try to distract him with singing, and Goseki with other means to keep him off his feet, but it’s not the same.

When the doctor finally gives him the okay to return to work, Kawai is so happy he could cry. And maybe does. But it doesn’t count if nobody else sees it.

“Slowly!” Yara cautions, well-versed in the way of dance and injuries and fuck-up kouhai. “Don’t try to do everything at once! Don’t try to do anything weird!”

Kawai isn’t a moron, plus there’s the threat of messing his foot up even worse and not getting to dance ever again (or maybe for another week for two but that feels like forever and ever). So he takes it as easy as he can, but there’s nothing for the fact that it’s been a solid month since he’s been able to work out properly, so his body won’t at all do all the things he knows that it can and is supposed to be doing, and the next day every single cell in his body aches.

He drags himself in the next day and shame-facedly asks Tsukada to make him some sort of regimen to fix it.

“I’m afraid I forgot how to backflip,” Kawai says, smiling like he’s joking. Except he kind of isn’t.

Tsukada doesn’t laugh, doesn’t poke fun, because more than anybody he’s serious about body condition, both his and his members’. He assesses Kawai’s current condition with a sweeping glance and few passes of his hands over Kawai’s arms, chest, and thighs.

“Well, you did get fat,” he says, matter-of-fact, but the he smiles reassuringly “but I can fix it.”

Kawai hugs him tightly, trusting Tsukada and knowing that he wouldn’t bother being anything but brutally honestly about this. “Thanks, Tsuka-chan,” he says, some of the tension dissipating already. “I knew I could count on you.”

“Always.” Tsukada hugs Kawai back, brief but strong. “Ready to get started?”

“Yeah, just one thing first,” Kawai says, pulling back, and Tsukada chuckles low in his throat when Kawai kisses him firmly. “For luck,” Kawai explains.

“You won’t need it,” Tsukada assures. “You’ve got me.”

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