Gay Harvest | Rewrite of a Joke Fanfic (AkiToya)

Thirteen {8}

A/N: massive time skip early in the chapter, at the end I'll say what happened in between. one of the final two or three chapters btw
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     "You're not going to perform in it, Aki."
     "Don't... don't call me that."
"That's not the point, the point is that you're not performing in the next harvest." Ena spoke, her tone filled with aggravation. Akito glared at her, with the autumn breeze blowing against him.
"And why not, Ena."
"You know nothing related to classical music, and how Aoyagi, y'know, ch-"
"Aha... Ena, I don't think you need to bring that up?" Akito looked behind the brunette, seeing Mizuki, who gently put their hand on the other's shoulder.
"But... hmph..." the brunette grunted, before just glaring at Akito, the look in her eyes dead. She bent over, whispering one thing into the younger's ear, before walking to her bedroom, her hand hooked onto the other's.

"He wouldn't be able to talk to you anyways."
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Two weeks. Thirteen days, rather, of entire practice. Thirteen days of exhaustion and overworking one self, and thirteen days until the supposed end. Thirteen days till he may finally get closure on the end, or maybe deny the end from finishing. Almost two entire weeks of stress. And tomorrow was the final day, until the harvest. Having been able to successfully become one of the performers, Akito knew this was his one, single chance. And only the other Shinonome could fuck it up.

     Even managing to get in was not an achievement. Most people had been able to get a time to perform. The single thing the redhead was proud of was the mere fact he'd be able to speak with his past lover. Tomorrow would be the official one year anniversary of him losing the blue haired one, and he was sure it'd be the first day of them being together once again.

     That's not to say it was guaranteed to happen.

     And as he lay in bed, the clock ticking, a certain level of unease entered him, as he attempted to fall asleep, completely unable to.
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{5:41 A.M}
{Day Of The Harvest}
Akito slammed open his front door, his phone in his hand, with the sun nowhere in sight. As he turned on the flashlight, he started sprinting down the sidewalk, exhaustion filling him. Though, the mere memory of his past lover and the idea of being able to speak with him filled the finger with at least enough energy to keep going.

His breathing became heavy as he ran down, still well over twenty minutes away. With the fact that he still had a chance with Toya, a slight smile covered his face. The wind blew against him, almost as though it didn't want the ginger to arrive, creating a chilly atmosphere. With the darkness and the cold, it had the potential to terrify someone. And as Akito continued to sprint, not pausing once, he never acknowledged this atmosphere, Toya filling his mind.
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"You're to ignore him."
"..."
"With what ########## told me, you've been attempting contact with him."
"...I haven't, ########."
"His ######## told me otherwise."
"...Fine, then."
"If he were to dedicate himself to ############ instead of #######, I'd allow communication."
"..Y-yes, I understand, ########."
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Akito leaned against a board, panting. He closed his eyes, gaining his breath. He had been running for fifty minutes. With construction going on in the quickest route, he was forced to go the long way. He had a single break, perhaps a thirteen minute one,

He sighed, sitting down for but a moment. Only a few people were around, maybe a few that weren't near enough for him to see, but only a mere three people were there. Two were practicing, specifically warming up their vocals, and one of them practicing the violin. The third guy was pacing around, the darkness acting as a cloak, with the ginger unable to make out any distinct details. Akito stared at the ground, before glancing at the other man, who was walking into a separate tent, before noticing one thing; blue hair.

The specific type of hair color that Toya had. And the closer Akito looked, the more similar the man was to him. Hair color, height, and type of clothing. At least, a more formal type of clothing. Everyone in the harvest area, all the performers, were dressed as though it was some important occasion.

To be fair, it was one. Hundreds of people all in one festival, it was sure to be something important, perhaps one of the biggest events any of the people would manage to get into. Assuming they had little talent. Some of them were talentless, with others being completely new to it (like Akito).

But that was beyond the point. The matter at hand was Toya, Toya Aoyagi. But a single question remained stuck in Akito's head; why would he not talk to him? Akito pondered this, any ideas racing into his mind, but due to their absurdity, he immediately shook them off. The only logical ones was that he didn't remember him, his father refused to allow Aoyagi to speak to the ginger, or that Ena did something. But only the second one could make any sense, yet at the same time he doubted it. He shook his head, thinking that perhaps it wasn't his love.

He stood up, the look of deadness completely wiped from his face. It was as though that era was gone, or if Toya had never existed, and so the reason for Akito's mood had vanished, yet the blue haired boy's existence was the reason for his excitement or happiness. Even if he had yet to speak to him, the fact he would most likely be able to excited him, a thrill he had not felt since last year's pride harvest, before Toya announced his leave.

Clearing his throat, he began to practice, his voice somewhat rusty from exhaustion. His voice sounded somewhat monotone, yet filled with emotion at the same time, an emotion fitting the song he had attempted on piano so many times. He would most likely never fully master the song, the piano was not his interest. But singing remained his single interest, something of which defined his character, a single thing that had led him to Kohane and An, something that would lead him to meeting the love of his life, something that would forever be there, that he would do until he no longer could.
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Toya stood in the tent, stretching. He looked at the piano, something he had grown to despise over the year. And that day marked a year of his despair, of his missing lover. He sat down, discomfort and misery filling him as he prepared to practice. Five hours until his time to perform, five hours until one of the biggest performances so far, and five hours until his despair would potentially reach its climax.

His hands hovered over the piano keys, with his arms shaking. He shook his head, before hearing something. A faint song, something someone was singing, something he was relatively familiar with. Though an easy song to play on piano, as well as sing, it still sounded nice.

Though, of course, with how much he had been forced to play it, it was something despicable, at least to him.

He stood up, slightly opening the tent. He looked around, attempting to figure out who was singing it. As the person continued, the blue haired boy realized that the vocals of the person were also rather familiar. And as his eyes gazed upon the one singing, he froze.

Akito Shinonome.

And as he listened, he failed to notice a slight smile forming on his lips, a smile that had not appeared there in well over a month. An entire year, perhaps only smiling a few five times. He shook his head, walking back to the piano, and instead of practicing the song he intended to perform, he practiced the song Akito was singing, starting from where the ginger was, and a slight happiness forming within him.

     And both of the boys continued that song for thirteen minutes, before the ginger paused, perhaps to take a break. Toya, unable to see outside, just assumed he had stopped. He didn't fully understand why Akito was there, and he didn't believe Akito would willingly go along with it, unaware of the full love Akito held for him.

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WORD COUNT: 1401
so in the time skip basically he got into it, one of a few hundred performances (the festival is not a day long so). He practiced a shit ton with Tsukasa and alone, managed to get pretty good at the song (though not perfect).
meanwhile, ####### had alternative plans.
after all, ##### wouldn't lie about that, at least not that.