A soft basso hum only alerted the clerk at the central desk that his boss’ old buddy had arrived at last from his tour. The younger man watched from the corner of his eye as the quiet blonde moved through the store with an almost liquid grace. He paused before the bass displays, and beelined for one in particular, a beautiful pearl-white Laguna valued at well over three hundred fifty thousand yen, though this particular store sold it for slightly less, a rather sparse twenty-nine hundred thousand. Rather than pulling it down like some noob, however, he only lightly touched the strings, listening closely, then turned back and slipped up to the desk.

"Oi! Can I plug her in? She’s in need of a decent tuning…” He called, his voice lightening a bit as he smiled up at the lanky youth. He nodded wordlessly, still a bit in shock. It amazed him sometimes how many professional musicians would come into this backwater town purely because his boss’ reputation…though…this guy looked kinda familiar. Glancing over as soft bass notes filled the quiet store, he studied the older man. He played a light, jazzy beat with just his fingers, tuning with his left hand as he balanced it perfectly on his thigh. Long, slightly crooked hands curved around each string like a lover’s embrace, and as the notes took on a deep, seductive tone, he let his other hand fall to the frets and a soft song, rich and deep, seemed to take flight…until he stayed the strings and unplugged the bass, setting it back on the stand. “There…”

“That was cool…” The kid murmured, and he sighed a little to himself. The guy was really, really familiar, but he couldn’t place him. Shaggy blonde hair was the trademark of any number of musicians, especially in this area, and he was of average height for most guys in their twenties. He was good-looking, but not handsome in the way most would consider, and he wasn’t a girly-looking guy…but…the way he carried himself spoke volumes. He had the relaxed, yet alert walk of a trained fighter, and his sinewy body echoed that assumption with each graceful motion he made. Not only that…but he didn’t simply wander, looking at the basses and amps. He actively studied each one, testing the basses that caught his eye with the skill and expertise of easily ten years. However…he shook his head, quirking a smile.

“It’s just testing, really. Nothing special…how much is she? I’m sure that Hikaru got her based on the fact that I was returning, no?” He replied, smirking a bit now as his eye remained with the pearl bass. The young man stammered a yes, then ran back to the main office, only to be caught and set back on his feet by a tall, lanky woman who then ambled up to her oldest of friends. Akira chuckled and bowed a little, then caught her outstretched hand and pulled her close into a hug. “It’s been a while, eh, Hi-chan?”

“Will you drop that shit, Kira? We’re the same damn age!…and yeah, it has. So, what brings you back so soon? I thought that you were staying with that guitarist friend of yours in the city, and working…”

“Well, we were all so worn out and got back so late that we just decided to head home. Besides, I needed away for awhile…it’s been a lonely job, lately. So, about that Laguna…How much?” Hikaru raised an eyebrow and brushed back her shaggy, brown and red Miyavi-esque hawk, one pierced lip quirked up.

“Quite the enthusiastic buyer, aren’t we? You probably played her, I’m assuming…” At his sharp nod, she laughed out loud. “Forgive my slowness, then. For you, a special offer of twenty-five hundred thousand yen. I won’t bother with an amp, since you bought one just before you left, or gear, since you’ve plenty of that.” She chuckled and waved to her stock boy as the bassist broke into a very large grin. Catching his shoulder, she motioned to the bass and told him to pack it up in a traveling case for ‘their customer’. Turning back, she slapped Akira’s shoulder and pulled him around, almost gleefully taking his credit card and singing lightly as she swiped it and he signed.

“Thank you, Hikaru! I‘ll remember to steer a few more of my fellow bands to your place…”

“You’re so very, very welcome, Akira-kun! Now, have fun with that pretty new bass of yours! Oh…and bring back that case tomorrow, or I will come to your house and smack you senseless with Kasumi.” He smirked, and rolled his eyes, nodding as he took the bass from the young man.

“But of course, Hi-chan. I’ll be in the area for a few weeks, so stop by sometime, okay? Kou and Taka miss you too, they’re just out cold at the moment back in Taka’s house.” She nodded as well, and smiled lightly.
“I’ll be sure to do that…What the hell?” Akira’s eyes followed hers to the outside of the store, and he too wondered what was going on, until he saw a familiar face, dirty and scuffed up, peeking terrified from beneath a mountain of fan girls. Well, sort of familiar. Shaggy blonde hair with blue and pink highlights…a small braid on either side of his head curving down over his now muddy jacket…scared chocolate brown eyes set in a face as elegant as Miyavi’s…and that angry tenor rising over the loud squeals as Takeru finally lost his cool and started to yell for them to get off of him. Kir smirked a bit to himself. SuG’s little vocalist must have thought that he could get away with running around in his PV gear without gaining an entourage in this little backwater place…The bassist almost turned away to let the younger man deal with the problem by himself, until he caught sight of a pair of scissors and a camera in the hands of two almost evil looking young women. There was only one thing to do...and he cringed inwardly. Hikaru wouldn't make fun of him for it, and nor would she say a word about the occurrence, but it still made him feel so very self-conscious whenever he had to throw his voice like this...

“Oh, hell…” He muttered, sneaking out to the side door, setting his bass down and positioning himself out of the girls‘ sight, then throwing his head up, and in a loud, extremely girlish voice, screamed “Oh my GAWD, it’s REITA!!!!” All twenty heads popped up at that, and sped off into the fading sunset, ignoring the fact that the lanky bassist slipped back out onto the street and made his careful way over to a coughing, thankful Takeru. He offered a hand and a smile, pulling the younger man up and dusting off his shoulders and hair as Takeru brushed away the dirt all over his pants and shirt, wincing at the mud all down his arms and left leg. “You certainly know how to make an entrance, eh, Takerun?” The other sighed and hissed a bit as he fully straightened up, proving himself to be only an inch or two shorter than Akira, rubbing his back.

“Hai, hai…Oh, I’m alright, ma’am, please…” He blushed, gently waving off Hikaru and turning back to Akira. “Thank you, Reita-san…I was just trying to get to this sound equipment store when the first three saw me…and then it was all downhill from there. They’re like leeches…Well, you saw them. Anyway…I’d better head back to the train station now. My roommate will be calling before long, wondering where I am…” He muttered, sounding distinctly disgruntled about it all, and Akira raised an eyebrow.

“You’ve nowhere else to go?”

“Not unless you know where there’s a spare bed and a house that doesn’t mind blonde vocalists with a tendency to babble?” Takeru replied, finally meeting Akira’s eyes with a slight sigh…and no little desperation. The older blonde chuckled and reached out to ruffle Takeru’s hair, but let his hand land instead on the other blonde‘s shoulder, giving it an understanding squeeze.

“I think that I might be able to help after all. It’s just a little bachelor pad, so it’s nothing terribly busy, or fancy. But, it’s quiet, it’s out of the way…and I can drive you back to Tokyo tomorrow morning. Sound fair enough?” He smiled at the gaping vocalist, and shook his bangs in front of his eyes to hide his faint blush. He didn’t know what made him make that sort of offer…after all, there was Takanori, who had a spare bedroom always empty, and several others he could have called at a moment’s notice…Oh, what the hell. Takeru was cute, if a little lacking in general Oshare Kei knowledge about casual dress, and he was very quick; normally, kohai at PS Company would be falling all over themselves trying to apologize. Picking up the subtle way that Akira himself had relaxed boosted his respect immensely. Not only that…but he looked a little haunted, and very lonely.

“Ah, thank you, Reita-san…”

“Call me Akira. There’s no point in using stage names out here in the boonies.” He murmured softly, eyes meeting Takeru’s. He hoped the vocalist would understand; he really didn’t want to have to fight off his neighborhood’s young women every moment of the day. Without a pause, he caught on immediately, and nodded furiously. He waited, only a bit nervous, as Akira said good bye again to Hikaru, but he was curious when the slender bassist leaned in to murmur something to her that made the woman laugh. She slapped his shoulder and made a few shooing motions before turning on her heel, and Reita followed suit, grinning at Takeru as the vocalist fell in step with him.

"An old childhood friend of mine...and the best supplier blackmail can buy when it comes to instruments. Ready to go?"

“Of course…By the way, call me Keisuke. That way, at least, we can throw them off.” He chuckled, grinning up at the bassist as they made their way to the silvery convertible waiting at the far edge of the downtown parking lot. Returning the grin with another smirk, Akira simply hopped in, and Keisuke followed with a little less grace, but balanced on the soft seats as he sat back rather properly. Akira glanced at him and smiled, slouching comfortably into the worn leather seats as he hit the ignition and backed them out.