Hajime no Insho
sho nijuni.
It had been incredible to hear that many people cheering for them. More than incredible; there wasn’t quite a word for the things that Takanori had felt, up on stage before them, singing his heart out with the band, his band, playing behind him. Hearing that crowd cheer had been reminiscent of their first live as a band- his heart had swelled to ten times its usual size, his pulse had been going insane the entire time, and he was sure that hearing the crowd cheer had nearly brought tears to his eyes.
Whether it had been tears or sweat, however, was still up in the air. He’d never sweated this much. And he’d never been this exhausted yet completely rejuvenated by any show that he’d ever performed in before. The crowd had taken all of his energy, and he’d given it so incredibly willingly, and behind him, each member of the band had done the same. And yet the crowd had fed them all of their energy, and they’d shouted and screamed and cheered, and some of them from their first few lives even sang the words to the songs they’d written over a year before.
They’d made him feel warm, and they’d made him feel welcomed, and hell, maybe even loved, despite the fact that currently, Gazette was an opening band, a way to get the crowd amped up for the real thing. And all those feelings together, mixed in with the sweat and the tears and the raw energy, all added up to the most incredible connection that Takanori had ever had with a crowd.
And the band had watched him, the one that had once been too nervous to go on in front of a crowd of a thousand, pour his heart out in front of a crowd twice that size, and they’d watched him come out of his shell in ways that he never had before. It had taken over a year, but he hadn’t done it halfway; he’d shouted and sang and put his voice on the line because performing had become everything to him.
And despite the sweat and the energy he’d exerted for the half-hour they’d been on stage, Takanori had had chills the whole fucking time.
That half-hour had lasted forever to him, and when that small fraction of forever was over and they’d played their last song, the crowd had cheered for them and had continued to do so until the band had left the stage, and the band that they’d opened for had grinned and said ‘amazing fucking job’ more times than Takanori could count.
And they looked at each other once their tour companions had gone on stage, and there was an indescribable feeling of accomplishment among them, and just as they had the year before when they’d first been signed, they all gathered close and hugged each other tight. There were tears and there were impulsive variants of ‘god, that was fucking cool’ and ‘I can’t believe we played that hard’ and ‘this is the best we’ve ever been’, and Takanori shut his eyes and grinned past the chills and the tears of absolute exhilaration rolling down his cheeks.
And when they pulled away from each other and they grinned at each other for as long as they could, they knew they’d done it. They knew they’d just taken another huge leap toward their dream, and for one long moment, it was quiet and the air was dense with excitement.
And then the quiet moment absolutely combusted into something else loaded with energy. Yuu pulled Kouyou close to him and they kissed more times than anyone bothered to count, and Yutaka hugged Takanori as tightly as humanly possible, grinning as widely as ever, dimples proudly displayed, and then it was Akira’s turn. His arms were tight around the singer, and Takanori couldn’t help but grin and hug him back.
“We did it,” the bassist breathed, and Takanori was beaming, and for a second it felt as though his closest friend couldn’t possibly be any closer. “Takanori, we fucking did it.” Takanori was held tighter, and he simply chuckled and shut his eyes and held on to his dearest friend. He felt proud and he felt loved, and he felt as if he went to his parents right this moment, then they would take back every single horrible thing that they’d said about his dream.
And as Yutaka and Yuu and Kouyou wrapped their arms around Takanori and Akira, the vocalist was sure that he would never find better friends than the four men standing around him and hugging him tight. He was sure that nothing could be better than this; feeling the attachment and feeling the excitement and knowing that finally, they’d done something amazingly fucking right.
This was the part where dreams started to come true.
Whether it had been tears or sweat, however, was still up in the air. He’d never sweated this much. And he’d never been this exhausted yet completely rejuvenated by any show that he’d ever performed in before. The crowd had taken all of his energy, and he’d given it so incredibly willingly, and behind him, each member of the band had done the same. And yet the crowd had fed them all of their energy, and they’d shouted and screamed and cheered, and some of them from their first few lives even sang the words to the songs they’d written over a year before.
They’d made him feel warm, and they’d made him feel welcomed, and hell, maybe even loved, despite the fact that currently, Gazette was an opening band, a way to get the crowd amped up for the real thing. And all those feelings together, mixed in with the sweat and the tears and the raw energy, all added up to the most incredible connection that Takanori had ever had with a crowd.
And the band had watched him, the one that had once been too nervous to go on in front of a crowd of a thousand, pour his heart out in front of a crowd twice that size, and they’d watched him come out of his shell in ways that he never had before. It had taken over a year, but he hadn’t done it halfway; he’d shouted and sang and put his voice on the line because performing had become everything to him.
And despite the sweat and the energy he’d exerted for the half-hour they’d been on stage, Takanori had had chills the whole fucking time.
That half-hour had lasted forever to him, and when that small fraction of forever was over and they’d played their last song, the crowd had cheered for them and had continued to do so until the band had left the stage, and the band that they’d opened for had grinned and said ‘amazing fucking job’ more times than Takanori could count.
And they looked at each other once their tour companions had gone on stage, and there was an indescribable feeling of accomplishment among them, and just as they had the year before when they’d first been signed, they all gathered close and hugged each other tight. There were tears and there were impulsive variants of ‘god, that was fucking cool’ and ‘I can’t believe we played that hard’ and ‘this is the best we’ve ever been’, and Takanori shut his eyes and grinned past the chills and the tears of absolute exhilaration rolling down his cheeks.
And when they pulled away from each other and they grinned at each other for as long as they could, they knew they’d done it. They knew they’d just taken another huge leap toward their dream, and for one long moment, it was quiet and the air was dense with excitement.
And then the quiet moment absolutely combusted into something else loaded with energy. Yuu pulled Kouyou close to him and they kissed more times than anyone bothered to count, and Yutaka hugged Takanori as tightly as humanly possible, grinning as widely as ever, dimples proudly displayed, and then it was Akira’s turn. His arms were tight around the singer, and Takanori couldn’t help but grin and hug him back.
“We did it,” the bassist breathed, and Takanori was beaming, and for a second it felt as though his closest friend couldn’t possibly be any closer. “Takanori, we fucking did it.” Takanori was held tighter, and he simply chuckled and shut his eyes and held on to his dearest friend. He felt proud and he felt loved, and he felt as if he went to his parents right this moment, then they would take back every single horrible thing that they’d said about his dream.
And as Yutaka and Yuu and Kouyou wrapped their arms around Takanori and Akira, the vocalist was sure that he would never find better friends than the four men standing around him and hugging him tight. He was sure that nothing could be better than this; feeling the attachment and feeling the excitement and knowing that finally, they’d done something amazingly fucking right.
This was the part where dreams started to come true.