Let's try this again!

The Edge of the Spotlight

The auditorium buzzed with energy, instruments tuning, voices warming up, and teachers making last-minute adjustments to the lighting. Akito stood by the edge of the stage, his guitar strap over his shoulder, watching the organized chaos as students prepped for the festival rehearsal. His fingers tapped restlessly on the neck of his guitar, his usual confidence undermined by the looming performance.

"Ready to go?" Tsukasa's voice cut through the noise as he approached, his usual grin in place. But Akito could see the slight tension in his eyes, the way he was holding his shoulders just a bit too stiffly.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Akito replied, keeping his voice steady. The truth was, the festival meant a lot more to him than he wanted to admit. He'd poured himself into his music for so long, and now he wanted to prove he was good enough-not just to others, but to himself. This was his chance to make a statement. Still, a small part of him was glad to have Tsukasa by his side for this, to share the weight of it.

Tsukasa nodded, his expression softening as he looked over the bustling stage. "You know, I don't usually get nervous about these things," he said quietly. "But... something about this festival is different. Maybe because it's our first big performance together?"

Akito raised an eyebrow. "You're nervous?" He couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice.

Tsukasa laughed, but the sound was a little strained. "Even I have my moments. But I think it's because I want this to be... memorable, you know?"

Akito looked at him, caught off guard by the honesty in his words. The easy-going, unshakeable Tsukasa had always seemed immune to self-doubt. Hearing this side of him made Akito feel oddly closer to him, like they were standing on the same unsteady ground.

Their moment was interrupted by the music instructor calling everyone's attention. "Alright, everyone! We'll run through each act, so get ready. Tsukasa, Akito-you're up first."

Akito's stomach tightened, but he took a steadying breath. He met Tsukasa's gaze, who gave him an encouraging nod, his usual energy returning as they walked onto the stage together. They took their places, Akito adjusting his grip on his guitar and Tsukasa stepping confidently toward the mic, giving a dramatic bow to the imaginary audience.

"Let's give them a show," Tsukasa said, his voice just loud enough for Akito to hear.

The music started, and Akito's fingers moved automatically over the strings, slipping into the familiar rhythm. Tsukasa's voice joined in, filling the empty auditorium with a smooth, practiced tone. As they settled into the song, Akito felt his nerves begin to calm, the music washing over him like a steady tide.

But halfway through the song, something unexpected happened. Tsukasa's voice faltered on a high note, just slightly off-key, and a flicker of panic crossed his face. He quickly recovered, picking up the next line as though nothing had happened, but Akito could see the slight tremor in his hand as he gripped the mic stand.

The mistake was small, barely noticeable, but it threw Tsukasa off, and Akito could feel the shift. Tsukasa's confidence wavered, his usual stage presence replaced with a subtle tension. Akito's chest tightened; he knew how much this performance meant to Tsukasa, how much he'd wanted it to be perfect. And as the song drew to a close, he felt the weight of Tsukasa's disappointment hanging between them like a shadow.

The last note faded, and a smattering of applause echoed from the teachers watching from the back. Akito glanced at Tsukasa, who was looking down, his jaw clenched.

As they stepped off the stage, Tsukasa's face hardened, his usual smile nowhere in sight. "I messed up," he muttered, more to himself than to Akito.

"Hey, it was barely noticeable," Akito said, trying to ease the tension. "The rest of the performance was great. Nobody's going to remember one off note."

Tsukasa shook his head, frustration flashing in his eyes. "You don't get it. I have to be perfect. That's what everyone expects from me." His voice was tight, edged with an intensity Akito hadn't seen before.

Akito frowned, taken aback by the sharpness of Tsukasa's words. He hadn't realized how much pressure Tsukasa was carrying-how much of his confidence was, in fact, a fragile armor. "No one's perfect, Tsukasa. And no one's expecting you to be."

Tsukasa looked at him, his gaze conflicted, as if he wanted to argue but couldn't find the words. After a tense pause, he finally sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know, but... it's just hard to let go of that idea."

Akito hesitated, unsure of what to say. He knew what it was like to feel that pressure, to want to be flawless. But he also knew that mistakes were inevitable, part of the journey. "Look, Tsukasa... you're always pushing yourself to be the best. It's impressive, but it doesn't mean you can't mess up sometimes. One mistake isn't going to change who you are or what you're capable of."

Tsukasa looked at him, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, and for a moment, the tension softened. "Thanks, Akito. I know I can be... a bit much sometimes." He gave a small, self-deprecating smile. "But it means a lot that you're here. Even if I'm not perfect."

Akito felt a faint warmth spread through him. "We're a team. And besides... you've had to put up with me, too. I think that's fair enough."

Tsukasa laughed softly, the tension easing from his shoulders. They walked offstage together, the weight of the performance still lingering but less oppressive. It felt like a shared burden now, something they could both carry together.

As they moved to the side to watch the next acts rehearse, Tsukasa nudged him lightly. "You know, I never would've guessed you'd be the one to give me a pep talk. Guess there's a lot I don't know about you."

Akito shrugged, feeling a bit awkward under Tsukasa's amused gaze. "Well, you're not exactly the easiest person to keep up with. Takes some getting used to."

Tsukasa chuckled, leaning back against the wall as he looked at Akito with a soft smile. "Guess I'm lucky you decided to put up with me, then."

Akito felt his cheeks warm, but he brushed it off with a scoff. "Yeah, yeah. Don't let it go to your head."

They stood side by side, the quiet between them no longer uncomfortable but something steady, something they both could lean on. Akito realized that the festival performance wasn't just about the music anymore; it was about proving something to each other, about standing together through the highs and lows.

As they watched the other performances, Akito felt a strange sense of pride, both in Tsukasa and in the bond they'd built. It was fragile, unspoken, and still forming, but it was real. And maybe, just maybe, it was enough to see them through whatever came next.