#this will probably be continued eventually but now I'm tired zzz

[chigasakism]

Okay so. I’ve been angsting about this ALL DAY on Twitter and I figured that it’s now substantial enough to post here, so! Here’s a fic idea that I’ve been stewing up wherein Itaru actually decides to leave Mankai back in Act 1: 

(Note: I’m copying and pasting it directly from Twitter so if there’s any weird pacing, spacing, or inconsistency please ignore it <3)

the little family skit that the other spring members perform doesn’t end up working since here, itaru’s guilt for not caring about theatre as much as the others + his rationalisation that they would find someone more suited to the troupe wins over the attachment he was forming to the others. he ends up leaving as he said he would, with the promise of coming to watch all mankai’s plays. 

so instead of itaru, arata from the ensemble cast joins as spring’s 4th member, and plays tybalt in romeo and julius. there are slight adjustments made to the script,  but in all, it’s not too big of a change. by this point, yuki hasn’t finished making the costumes either, so he readjusts it slightly to fit arata, who also isn’t too different from itaru in terms of stature. things work out more or less fine for spring.

meanwhile, itaru tries to pretend it never happened. he moves out, trying to find a place with decent rent pricing. he isn’t able to initially, so he crashes at konomi’s place for a while. 

he does, however, leave the couch he bought at mankai because 1) he has nowhere to take it and 2) he forgot about it initially and didn’t have the courage to ask for it back. it’s the only part of itaru that stays there.

occasionally, he thinks back to mankai and his role as tybalt, and he wonders how practice is going. then he immediately reminds himself that it’s not really any of his concern anymore. he doesn’t need to keep thinking about it. 

 ...but he does, and he wishes he knew why.

when the TV announcement airs, itaru sees who’s taken the role of tybalt, and he tries to convince himself that it’s a good match, never mind that the role was initially written with him in mind. it’s fine. this is what he wanted, right? to quit before it inconveniences anyone.

he should be relieved that they found a replacement before going public. 

 all he can think about is how replaceable he is. about how it would look if he were behind the camera instead. maybe it would be nice...

but he realises he can't afford to keep thinking like that anymore. he has no idea why he keeps coming back to it. there are times he finds himself going over the drills that the director— that izumi (not director, itaru. you're not in the troupe anymore.) had asked him to learn; finds himself going over tybalt's lines, practicing the motions in character. 

konomi asks him what he intends to do if he's so fixated on this. 

he doesn't know.

when the social media posts start coming, though, he retweets them on his official taruchi twitter. he owes that to them, at least. he also manages to plug the theatre a little bit in his streams, passing it off by saying that he's developed an interest in theatre and is curious to see where mankai can go.

when it's finally time for the play, he books a ticket for every day of it. he doesn't know why he feels compelled to watch it over and over again, but when he sees how far they've all come, he's proud of them. they've added sword fight scenes; one between tsuzuru and arata, and another, more climactic one, between sakuya and masumi. it's a really good play, especially given that all of them were so new to acting. 

he doesn't know when he memorised all of tybalt's lines, though, but by the second day, he finds himself mouthing along to them.

here, though, he realises what izumi had meant by the interpretation of the actor. arata's tybalt is so different from the tybalt itaru thinks he would have portrayed, even as a supporting character. where arata's tybalt is more soft-spoken and protective of julius, itaru's would have been more aggressive against the montagues, holding an air of superiority. 

after each play, noting each adlib, itaru doesn't know what he's feeling. he's happy for the theatre's success, of course, given that they've met the first of sakyo's conditions.

he's proud of his former troupemates for making it so successfully to closing night. he's been significantly entertained by the play itself, and— 

oh. 

this is what sakuya meant when he'd said that theatre exists as such a high form of entertainment.

itaru realises that not once did he even have the slightest inclination to take out his phone or empty his lp. 

he wonders how long he's been in the dark about this. he wonders if this was what sakuya had wanted him to realise, if this was what tsuzuru had wanted to create.

but most of all, he wonders what it would feel like to have stood on that stage with them.

on closing night, however, just as he's leaving the theatre, he feels something pinch his shoulder sharply. "itaru." 

 it's kamekichi, perched on his shoulder. 

like he had done the day itaru made his decision to leave. "you've been coming every day, huh."

itaru bites his lip; he didn't think anyone would have noticed, let alone kamekichi. "do they know?" 

 kamekichi makes a sound that makes itaru distinctly believe the bird is laughing. "who knows?" 

itaru shifts a little, feeling like he's been caught doing something illicit.

and just like that, he hears a surprised shout of "chigasaki-san, you came!" from matsukawa. eventually, matsukawa talks him into coming backstage to where the dressing rooms are, and for the first time in two months, he sees the spring troupe in person.

he puts on his best smile. "excellent show, you guys, I really enjoyed watching it." he compliments arata on his play of tybalt, too, and congratulates him for getting it down so quickly. 

there's still a slight awkwardness in the air, and tsuzuru looks away. he had written that part for itaru, after all. 

 then, sakuya speaks up. "I'm glad you came, itaru-san! I hope we put up a good performance." 

itaru smiles. "you made an excellent romeo, sakuya. and you for julius, masumi." 

"thanks," is the half-hearted reply he gets from masumi.

the meeting is awkward: sakuya and citron are happy to see itaru came at all, where tsuzuru and masumi are kind of upset that he didn't stick around to be a part of the troupe. arata is nice enough and doesn't try to exacerbate the situation; just thanks him for coming.

itaru kind of wishes he'd stayed when he sees the way arata pats sakuya on the back and ruffles masumi's hair, or when he lightly nudges tsuzuru's shoulder as he stares at the script or helps citron adjust his clothes. 

he wishes that was him, just a little.

but then itaru reminds himself that he likely would never have had that with them anyway: he's bad at relating to people, he had wildly different hobbies and interests, he stayed alone and tried to skive practice and game during breaks he didn't need as much as he claimed to.

he's about to leave when kamekichi spills the beans: that itaru had been coming to the plays every day, without fail. of course, they're all surprised—itaru had quit, after all—but itaru excuses himself, heart heavy as he heads home.

still, though, he continues to come to each play and dress rehearsal. he watches as tenma stumbles through the dress rehearsals during summer's first run, but states in an interview from a press member that he thinks summer will do excellently. yuki notices him, of course, but doesn't say anything to him. he doesn't have anything to say, anyway, since itaru isn't a part of mankai. they exchange a glance: yuki's scathing; itaru's self-deprecating, but that's all.

he eventually gets a text from sakuya, thanking him for still coming to every day of every play. itaru's probably spent as much money on buying tickets to mankai's plays as he has whaling every time they come around, but he's surprised to learn that he isn't upset by that at all.

eventually, when the autumn troupe auditions roll around, itaru almost considers trying out, until he remembers that autumn troupe specialises in action, and that's impossible for him. so again, he watches from the sidelines and supports them quietly.

he's surprised to find out that sakyo's joined the troupe. 

he learns this at one point when he's hanging around veludo and sees sakyo handing out flyers for autumn's next play. 

"chigasaki." 

"I'm surprised you still remember me, sakyo-san." itaru isn't, really. all of spring, izumi, yuki, and sakyo all know the truth about him: he's a quitter. he left. 

itaru knows from high school that when you screw up your reputation, people will remember. forever.

sakyo, at least, doesn't make any accusations or comments about his character. instead, he just asks him why he's still wandering around veludo if he isn't interested in joining. "and don't tell me you don't care, the director knows that you've been coming to every show."

itaru just shrugs. "tsuzuru's a good writer, yuki's costumes are great, and the dir— izumi-san's helped everyone grow into great actors. the production quality's good and the shows are enjoyable."

sakyo frowns. "I still don't get why you left. the other spring members won't say anything about it, and the director just clams up, too." 

itaru hasn't felt like crying for a long time, but he comes close. it almost feels like they're protecting him—his secrets.

"I quit because I didn't have the same passion the others had. they all cared about theatre and I couldn't match that. I quit early so they could find someone that cared more than I did and deliver a better performance." the words are abrupt and plain. he doesn’t sugarcoat them.

sakyo stares for a moment. "if you don't care, why do you show up to each run of each play? you can't expect anyone to believe that." 

for a moment, itaru considers telling sakyo what he'd confessed to the director the day before he left: that he can't bring himself to let himself get close to anyone in the troupe. he'd trusted before, let his secret out once, with tonooka, and that had turned him away from the idea of friendships permanently. 

the relief he'd felt when sakyo said spring had kept his secret was immense; he'd assumed that like every time before, he'd be bad mouthed at the first opportunity after leaving. 

he could imagine their words: 

"itaru-san, so busy and obsessed with his games that he can't even keep a promise to stick with something he signed up for."

"all he cares about are those games; he just wanted to mooch off without having to pay for food and rent."

"he just tried to use us for convenience, he didn't even want to come to practices."

there's a loud snap in front of him. "chigasaki." sakyo had snapped his fingers, drawing him out of his thoughts. "I won't pry. but the spring troupe would be glad to see you again. sakoda comes around the dorm frequently, so the doors are open if you're inclined to drop in."

itaru smiles. "I'll come by sometime," he says, like a liar, and bows slightly before leaving. he doesn't think he can face them again.

he's there when autumn troupe performs, there when there's a run where lansky comes on stage with finger guns instead of the props they've been using. he doesn't ask, but he does wonder why.

still, though—after he leaves the theatre on closing night, he can almost feel izumi's and sakyo's gaze as he walks out of the theatre. 

he doesn't turn back, doesn't try to let them know he knows they're looking. until—

"itaru-san!" it's izumi, and she seems to have rushed outside in a hurry. 

itaru bows his head. "a good show as always," he just says, neglecting a proper form of address since he doesn't think he's entitled to calling her "director" anymore.

"would you..." she hesitates. "would you consider auditioning for the winter troupe tryouts?" 

 itaru goes through a lot of feelings at once, none of which he can really discern. 

izumi seems to notice his turmoil, but she just places a flyer in his hand. "just consider it, okay?"

itaru smiles weakly. "yeah." 

 he already knows he's not going to join. it's too late to go back on his decision now, and— 

he'd lose his precious gaming time. he would still have to live around people. they'd all still probably judge him for gaming if he did it out of the room. not to mention, he would probably have to have a roommate this time. perhaps izumi would be kind enough to arrange a solo room for him, but he can't exactly impose with a condition for that after he'd already quit.

and above all, what kind of person would he look like if he came crawling back after all these months, after having quit on the pretense of not caring?

nothing that turned him away from joining mankai will have changed. in fact, there would be more people now, if anything. more people that he'll have to be watchful around, more people that he doesn't understand, and probably never will.

on the day of the winter troupe auditions, though, he finds his feet taking him to the mankai theatre despite all his hesitation. 

he doesn't let himself go inside. instead, he watches from a distance as two people go in for said auditions. he'd thought there would be more.

it's fine. the director and the others would probably figure out a way to get more people to join. they're all good at that, after all. 

he turns back and leaves before he gets noticed. when winter troupe's performance becomes a battle against godza, he knows mankai will win.

he's there for all of winter's runs, too—including the one where tsumugi tries to change his acting, but he's still faithful that it'll work out. 

and, of course, he shows up for the official act-off, and his vote is an easy vote for mankai.

and, when mankai does win, he sends a message to sakuya, once again, congratulating him and the others. 

he doesn't talk to anyone else. 

he wonders if sakuya lets anyone else know about the message. then, half an hour later, he gets a reply:

> thank you for always supporting us, itaru-san! I know you're not here anymore, and all of us in spring miss you, but it makes me really happy to know you're always watching us!

itaru can't help but tear up as he wonders what exactly he's given up.

for a moment, he's admittedly glad he didn't try to audition for the winter troupe. even if he was only with spring for such a short time, it would feel wrong to try and sign on with any other troupe.

by the time alex in wonderland comes around, itaru notices two things: one, that he's unusually curious about this play since arata will be masumi's co-lead, and two, that he isn't mankai's only stalker.

itaru's sitting on a bench near near mankai on veludo, but far enough away that he's not being outwardly suspicious, but close enough that he can see someone else loitering around the area.

it takes him a moment, but he realises that the man looks somewhat familiar; like someone itaru may have come across in a company meeting. closer inspection reveals that it IS someone he's met at a meeting recently: the heir of mizuno enterprises.

it's interesting to note, but itaru doesn't draw attention to it until he actually comes across him during the second day of the play of alex in wonderland. he'd seen mizuno the previous day, and he's pretty sure mizuno had seen him. 

which obviously means they have to talk now.

mizuno seems to recognise him from work too, and they end up having a conversation: it turns out they share the same favourite troupe (spring) and that mizuno is apparently stunned by the high quality of the scripts specifically. the conversation is pleasant, and since it's not about work, it's an interesting enough topic to keep. 

they end up sitting next to each other in the theatre, and itaru swears that mizuno is more fixated on tsuzuru than the leads. 

the play is, of course, excellent. arata is astonishingly good at playing the mysterious two-faced professor (itaru wonders if he could have played that with different insight; living a double life with his gaming and work) that helps the clueless alex as he's thrown into wonderland. 

itaru almost wants to be standing on that stage. almost.

he shares a conversation with mizuno (whose first comment is about the bunny ears. itaru asks him if he has a crush on tsuzuru, which he vehemently denies, but then makes itaru promise not to tell anyone. mizuno is cute) about the play, and they end up exchanging contact info.

itaru jokingly calls them the official founders of the mankai fan club, but they both take to the name pretty quickly. they form something like a friendship over spring troupe and mankai, and of course, both of them want to support the company fully. they both keep coming to the plays and quietly boosting mankai's social and public presence, all the way until a year later, when there's an official announcement that mankai is holding auditions for a sixth member for the spring troupe, and itaru's worldview turns upside down.

against his better judgment, he shows up, opening the doors to the theatre just a crack. he's about to step through, when he hears— 

"welcome to the spring troupe, chikage-san!" 

ah...he was too late. 

instead, the sixth member of spring is chikage utsuki—the same chikage utsuki from work. the one who would ask him to help him arrange tickets to mankai shows since itaru was such a big fan of them. 

jealousy, dark and bitter, courses through itaru. he's about to close the door and pretend he'd never come, go back to just being a fan, like what mizuno was satisfied with, when— 

"chigasaki?" 

—chikage notices him. 

backing away would be impossible now, so itaru steps into the theatre for the first time since nocturnality. "hey."

"itaru-san!" sakuya, for one, is overjoyed to see him—he runs over and instantly wraps itaru in a tight hug. masumi looks away, tsuzuru's awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, and arata and citron are smiling at him. "we missed you so much!" 

itaru's stomach churns.

then, izumi's eyes widen. "oh, itaru-san... were you here for the audition?" 

it's too late. 

 "unfortunately, no," itaru smiles. "I just wanted to stop by and see how things were going." he turns toward chikage. "chikage-san will be a great addition to the troupe, I'm sure." with that, he turns to leave. 

he's tired. 

he's so tired. 

he wants to go home and settle down with a mindless tapping game, maybe, and not think about anything. 

he can hear voices behind him, but they're muffled, like they're underwater.

as he steps out of the theatre, he feels a hand on his wrist. "chigasaki—" 

it's chikage, and there's something shifting in his eyes. uncertainty? not likely.

"something up, senpai?" 

"I...thought I should tell you that if you wanted to join, maybe there'll be another chance."

"it's fine, senpai. really, I wasn't looking to join in the first place." 

then, itaru pauses. 

"if I did, I never would have left."

just as it clicks for chikage, itaru removes his hand and leaves, going back home. 

he's not jealous. he's happy being a fan, like mizuno. he doesn't want to act. he doesn't want to be on stage. he doesn't. 

(he doesn't forget that it's been a year and he's still stuck on this.)