思いっきり。 (omoikkiri) wrote,

Love Can Keep You Up All Night // Kis-My-Ft2

Love Can Keep You Up All Night
PG, 5141 words, fairytales

Tamamori is a prince(ss) in shining armor. Miyata is stuck in Tamamori's dreams.

A/N: Inspired by a BSB (XD) story I read some years ago. And all the relevant literary/cinematic sources, of course.

The uncomfortable, prickling feeling at the back of his neck begins when Tamamori is walking down the familiar halls of the Avex studio building. He looks around a little, but sees nothing out of the ordinary. The linoleum floor is polished as usual, and his sneakers are making that comfortable squeaking as he walks across it, trailing behind a tired-looking Producer-san. His band mates (minus Kitayama, who must have overslept again) fool around loudly as they file in through the door to their allotted studio.

"Hey guys," he asks, so placidly the question sounds like a statement, "has anyone heard any stories about ghosts in this building?"

"Not a word," shrugs Yokoo.

"Hmm," mutters Tamamori, shrugging his shoulders a little to get rid of the strange tingling between his shoulder blades. "Felt something weird," he tells them by way of explanation.

Nikaido scoffs, tossing his bag carelessly on one chair and spinning another chair around so that he can sit in it backwards. "Probably Tama-chan is the ghost."

"Actually," Fujigaya says, tossing Nikaido's bag on the floor and sitting in the chair himself, "Takizawa-kun told me the other day that when Tackey & Tsubasa first debuted, there was a rumor going around about some strange stuff going on on this floor. Seems some girl was bullied by her peers while she was recording her album and killed herself. So now her spirit floats around and— "

"That's stupid!" Nikaido cuts in loudly.

Fujigaya shrugs. "I hear a lot of people legitimately had their things go missing though."

Belligerently, Nikaido snorts in derision. Nobody misses the fact that he reaches for Senga's hand to hold.

Across the room, Yokoo looks pointedly at Nikaido's bag lying in a slumped pile on the ground. "Probably things were misplaced because nobody cleaned up after themselves."

Kitayama chooses this moment to burst through the door, kicking Nikaido's bag along the floor a few more feet. "Sorry I'm late everyone!" he casually announces, no trace of guilt in his lazy expression, "Overslept, traffic, the usual."

The producer, who had been dozing over the sound board silently until now, sits up and says crisply, "Let's get started since everyone's here."

It takes Tamamori a moment, while everyone takes off their jackets (or shoes or watches, or fixes their hair) and gets ready, but he finally realizes what's been bothering him all this time. "Eh? We're getting started without Miyata?"

"Who?" Fujigaya asks, turning to look at him while carefully clipping up his bangs with a sparkly barrette.

"Er, Miyata. You know. Big nose, gap-toothed smile, stupid wotagei dance?"

"Tamaaa," Nikaido groans. "Why are you like thisss?"

"Nikaaa," echoes Tamamori in the same tone. He looks around at all the other members, trying to detect a twitching facial muscle or fidgeting, some sign that one of them is playing a prank on him. His gaze settles on Fujigaya. "Taipi," he says suspiciously, "Is this a joke? You two are playing a prank on me?"

But Fujigaya's look of confusion is genuine, not comically affronted as Tamamori expects it to be. "Tama-chan... You... Have you been staying up too late trying to memorize lines? You should get some sleep. You're mixing up your friends from school with work."

"What? No, that's not— Miyata is— " Tamamori falters, suddenly noticing Producer-san impatiently flicking a switch on and off with one finger.

"Come on guys, that's enough fooling around," Kitayama says in his serious voice that he rarely uses. "We're already behind schedule on recording, and this single can't be delayed any more."

Tamamori tilts his head a little in confusion, but drops the subject.

At lunch, they all go out to eat gyoza at the place around the corner. By this time, he's convinced himself that it's all just an elaborate prank, most likely a dokkiri for some show or other.

"Ah, it's cameraman-san" he says, pretending to peer over his shoulder. He figures if he plays it cool and acts casual enough about it, someone (Senga) will slip and let the cat out of the bag.

"Ehhh?!" It really is Senga who reacts, but not quite the way Tamamori expects. Senga's hand immediately flies up to arrange his hair, and he looks around at the rest of the group, wide-eyed. "Is it a dokkiri? Where did you see the camera, Tama-chan? Where? Where?"

The others are all straightening up, vainly trying to look their best. If it really was a dokkiri, with a hidden camera following them around that everyone had known about, they would all have made sure to look their casual best already. Even Yokoo is tugging at his shirt now and subtly trying to look his best, so Tamamori gives up the scheme and says he was just kidding.

"I just thought... it might have been a dokkiri on me. With Miyacchi gone and stuff."

Nikaido narrows his eyes. "What is this Miya-whatever person? Are you sure you're not the one hoaxing us?"

Tamamori looks around the table, seeing the concerned looks of his band mates, and wonders what to make of it all. As a prank, it would have made perfect sense, what with extra promotions for debut and all, but they really are in crunch time for the single, so a big distraction like this seems a strange thing to do. Plus, while it's a good prank, he doesn't think it's something Miyata would do, worrying Tamamori like this.

"Initials!" he finally says, surprising himself with how shrill his voice comes out. "Miyata is our M! We're missing our M, aren't we?"

Nikaido gapes at him and Senga's eyes open wide, but Yokoo gives Tamamori a soft look and says "There never was an M, except when Massu was with us for that brief time. I think you mean we're missing our I, but Tama, Iida left the group years ago."

Then Tamamori holds his tongue and doesn't say anything more.

All the rest of the day, Tamamori whips out his phone to mail Miyata whenever he gets a chance. "haha, you're so funny i forgot to laugh" and "you're holding back recording with this prank you know, hurry and come to work"

He doesn't get a single reply back. Miyata always replies to his mails, and quickly, even when it's the dead of the night, so the lack of replies worries him more than anything the others have said.

At night, Tamamori sits alone on his bed and fiddles with his phone, debating whether or not to give Miyata a call. He's afraid it's a prank, because if it is, and it's revealed how worried he is, he just knows Kitayama is going to tell all the TV shows and entire concert halls filled with people and he'll never be able to live it down. He's even more afraid, though, that it's not a prank, and there will be nobody to pick up the phone when he calls.

"The number you have dialed is not in use."

Slowly, he hangs up, plugs his phone into its charger, and gets under the covers. He tells himself that today is just a weird dream, and the sooner he wakes up the sooner things will go back to normal.

Sleep is a long time coming, and by midnight the uncomfortable prickles have moved from the back of his neck to settle at the pit of his stomach.

The setting comes into view with a dramatic sweep of the landscape, like in a movie. Tamamori might have been weirded out, except he imagines seeing the world like this in his head all the time, so it's not very surprising after all. His mental camera finishes panning and Tamamori finds himself standing at the end of a path, where hard-packed dirt disappears under a thick carpet of dead leaves. Directly ahead of him is a dark forest with dense undergrowth. It's impossible to see more than a few feet beyond the edge of the trees.

When Tamamori reaches up to scratch his head in confusion, he discovers that he's wearing a full suit of shining, clanking armor.

"Cool," he says, then throws out his arms for balance because he finds himself suddenly astride a white horse. "Is this like that Old Spice commercial?" he wonders to himself, amused "‘Look at your man, look back at me, I'm on a horse'...?"

"Seriously, Tama-chan?" the horse says in a voice that sounds very familiar. "Only you could dream of Sleeping Beauty and deodorant in the same dream." Then the horse laughs a half-whinnying, half-cackling kind of laugh, and Tamamori realizes where he's heard the voice before.


"At your service," the horse turns his head and grins toothily at Tamamori. "Now, let's get on with it, shall we? I believe Miyacchi is waiting impatiently for you. Or, well, not impatiently, since he's asleep, so he can't really be aware of his emotions, plus he's probably enjoying the rest after being so busy at work, don't you think? But anyway, it's Sleeping Beauty's role to wait for his prince, after all, so you'd better get along with it and go kiss him awake."

"What?!" is the only thing Tamamori manages to say in response to Kawai's chatter.

"Haven't you ever seen Sleeping Beauty?" Kawai manages to sound both impatient and long-suffering at the same time.

"Of course."

"So then you need to kiss Sleeping Beauty awake, don't you?"

"We're in Sleeping Beauty?!" yelps Tamamori.

There's a pause, as Tamamori digests this information and Kawai rolls his eyes, then Tamamori comments, "I didn't know the horse in Sleeping Beauty was a talking one. Isn't that The Goose Girl?"

"...Well this is your dream. How should I know?"

Tamamori bristles at the look Kawai turns on him, like maybe he really is a bit strange in the head, instead of just acting like that all the time. (Why would he take the effort to put on an act all the time, Tamamori would like to know. He takes offense at the implications and resolves never to dream of Kawai again.)

"Anyway," Kawai says, pawing with a front hoof at the ground in impatience, "If you don't go save him, he'll just continue on sleeping until some other prince comes to kiss him awake. I thought you wanted him back at practice." He doesn't wait for Tamamori to respond, and takes a leaping plunge into the undergrowth. Unfortunately, he doesn't get far before he's struggling to move forward, tangled plants and curling roots encircling his legs like a trap.

"Will you do something instead of sitting there like a useless lump?" he asks querulously, turning again to give Tamamori an irritated look.

"Um," says Tamamori.

"Your sword," Kawai says, sounding more and more exasperated by the second. "Why are you a knight if you can't even wield your sword against a few plants?"

"I'm a prince," Tamamori informs him loftily. "Hakuba no ouji."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. It's still your job to hack through the forest and save Sleeping Beauty. That's just how the story goes." Then Kawai rears, kicking his forelegs wildly, and Tamamori slides off his back end and lands in a heap on the forest floor.

By the time he picks himself up off the ground, Kawai has disappeared, shifted away in the dream world. Tamamori sighs and unsheathes his sword (it makes a delicious shing! kind of sound) and begins to hack away at the undergrowth.

He makes very slow progress, however, and gets tangled amongst the brambles and roots more often than not. By the time he finally cuts his way through to the castle, his vision is beginning to dim. A sound seems to drift down from the sky, first quietly and then louder, sounding suspiciously like the familiar jangle of his alarm clock.

Tamamori rushes into the castle and tries to take the steps up to the highest turret two-by-two, but he finds his legs moving slower and slower, like they're turning into jelly, until it seems like he's barely moving. There's an orange hue over everything now, like sunlight on the back of his eyelids — and then he sees a flash of the ceiling of his own room. He wills himself to sleep again, but only catches a brief, faded glimpse of a sleeping figure in purple robes before his eyes snap wide open and he's awake.

(His blankets are wound all around his arms and legs, like vines.)

It's pointless, and deep down he knows it, but Tamamori can't help asking for Miyata again when he sees the older man missing from rehearsal the next day.

Kitayama frowns, genuinely concerned, and tries to send him home for the day. "Tama-chan," he says gently, "get some proper rest for a day. You'll be able to catch up with the choreography better when you're not— well, when you're better rested."

"No, it's okay — I'm okay — really. It's just that— " Tamamori pauses in the middle of changing into sweats for dance practice and reflects that it would be easier to just let everyone think he was being his typical self rather than explain. He pushes his bangs back with a headband in a business-like manner and changes the subject. "Headband-san, let's do our best today."

It's been a long time since Tamamori has danced symmetry with Miyata, but still he feels off-kilter all throughout practice, seeing only six people reflected in the ceiling-to-floor mirror. He stumbles through practice, fumbling and tripping over his own feet every time he looks up and sees the difference in their formation, the gap where Miyata ought to be closed over by the other members each shifted over a step. After a while, he dances with his eyes closed as much as possible so he doesn't have to see how unnatural the group looks, and it helps a little.

In the afternoon, they're all ushered into a conference room for their first look at the jacket design of their single. A monitor is set up at the front of the room and a representative from Avex clicks through the slideshow of photos slowly.

The others ooh and aah, excited for the single, and argue over who looks the best. Tamamori clutches the edge of his seat in a hard grip and mentally wills Avex-san to scroll through the photos faster, faster, knowing that there will be a photo of all seven of them in the next slide, or the next one, or the next one after that.

But there are only six members, no matter how many times they go through the slideshow. And it's strange but the images look right, like there's supposed to be only six, like six members fits and any more or less would be wrong.

"But you haven't said anything, Tamamori-san," Avex-san turns to him.

"Oh." His voice comes out almost a croak, and Tamamori suddenly realizes how dry his throat is. He takes a hasty drink of water, then answers, "Of course, I look the coolest in all the photos."

Tonight, when the scene fades in, Tamamori is lying on warm white sand, gentle waves lapping at his feet. There is a row of pretty red and white bluffs behind him, and on top of that, a beautiful sprawling palace, white walls iridescent like pearls under the sun.

"Hello there!" a cheerful voice calls out to him. Making his way down a natural path along the bluffs is Miyata. The sea breeze is playing with his hair a little and lifting up the bottom flaps of his shirt so Tamamori gets tiny glimpses of Miyata's stomach, and Miyata is beaming as usual. Tamamori's heart soars.

He leaps to his feet — or attempts to, but his legs feel wobbly and unnatural. He ends up standing there, a little unsteady, until Miyata reaches him and grabs for his hand.

"Tama-chan! You came! Just in time for the wedding. How long are you staying?"

No voice comes out when Tamamori tries to respond so he just shrugs and shakes his head.

"You don't know, huh? Well, no matter, you're here in time to attend the wedding, and that's the most important. Come on, I'll bring you up to the palace and um, find you some clothes." Miyata's face darkens a little in a blush, but Tamamori notices the way Miyata's eyes can't help but flicker downwards for a brief moment.

And then Tamamori looks down at himself too, and realizes that he's stark naked.

No more than two steps does Miyata lead him, then Tamamori finds himself inside the palace, clothed in a simple shirt and loose pants. Miyata has disappeared, but Tamamori knows somehow that the older man will be back to get him later, for the big wedding that evening. Tamamori wonders who's getting married and why Miyata is so excited about it.

He sets out to explore the palace and hear what news he can. It's too bad he doesn't have his voice, but there are enough people, both servants and royal guests, milling about that it's not difficult to overhear important snippets of conversation.

"...beautiful foreign princess..."

"...searched a long time...lucky he found her..."

"...luckier to marry the prince..."

"...biggest wedding the palace has seen in years."

"Crown prince, after all... Toshiya..."

The tightness Tamamori feels in his throat has nothing to do with his lack of a voice.

He spends all afternoon wandering around the palace, seeing all there is to see. It takes a long time, because the place is so big, but he's glad to take his time, prolonging his visit. Tamamori looks around furtively, making sure no one is around before he reluctantly admits to himself that he really just doesn't want to face Miyata's wedding with the unknown princess.

Nevertheless, as soon as he thinks the thought, he hears wedding bells ringing in the distance; a servant, wearing a tuxedo, materializes out of thin air to usher Tamamori out of the palace, towards the beach.

"I'm the butler," the man says, taking Tamamori by the elbow and moving him briskly along, "Come along now, no time to waste."

Tamamori looks at the butler closely, and recognizes Daiki. ‘Penguin in a tuxedo,' he laughs to himself, but Daiki seems to have read his mind and glares up at him.

"I don't think you have time to be laughing at other people, Tama-chan," Daiki sniffs, "You wasted so much time looking around the palace that it's already morning. You'll be waking up soon."

Tamamori shrugs and looks at Daiki with a "so what" expression, though he walks a little faster.

"I don't think you understand," Daiki stops fully and spins Tamamori around to look him in the eye. "Don't you know the story of The Little Mermaid? If you can't make the prince fall in love with you, he will be married to the false princess. And when you wake up, Miyacchi will be married. And in the original fairytale, you turn into sea foam at the end and die! I don't think you want either of those things to happen!"

‘Well why the fuck did you stop walking then!' Tamamori flings the thought at Daiki, and takes off towards the beach again.

They arrive at the ceremony just in the nick of time.

The royal pair are standing at the altar, all the lady guests are crying into their handkerchiefs, and the priest is saying "...speak now or forever hold your peace."

Tamamori doesn't pause to think. Everyone turns to stare at him as he rushes up the walkway to the altar. But he trips, halfway there, and the fall jolts him awake.

He opens his eyes to a face full of carpet, shouting hoarsely, "No, no, Toshiya, wait for me!"

Miyata isn't at work again the day after that. Tamamori doesn't say a word about it.

He doesn't say much to the others, either, letting them all think that his silence is due to fatigue. Which wouldn't be entirely wrong, either, because he really is feeling more tired than usual. He blames his dreams — all the fighting and emotional turmoil — and wishes he could get a good night's sleep already.

At lunch, he wolfs down a bento and flings himself down on the couch before Kitayama — or worse, Nikaido and Senga — can claim it, and resolutely closes his eyes for a nap.

He dreams not of a twisted fairytale, but of Miyata and himself, living their ordinary lives.

Tamamori is dead tired, overheated and muscles screaming, too exhausted to even crawl off the stage for his towel and a drink. A towel lands on his face as he sprawls in a dark corner, followed by the shock of an icy water bottle at the side of his neck. He yells at the sudden coldness, then whips the towel off his face and yells again at Miyata who leans over him, dripping sweat and goodwill all over his face...

Tamamori can't seem to memorize his line for his drama, so Miyata comes up with all sorts of lame puns and enactments, until the whole group is doubled up laughing at his antics. It does help Tamamori remember the line, only now he can't help but crack up when he gets to it during filming, so it ends up being an NG anyway...

Tamamori is confused about Miyata's intentions, because despite his frequent and unceasing claims of one-sided love in front of the fans, Miyata's been playing more with other people in their off time these days. When the cameras aren't rolling, Miyata likes to crack lame jokes with Kawai, or have dinner with Kitayama, and he's been spending really a lot of time in Akihabara with his friends from school. But when Tamamori questions him about it, Miyata just confesses yet again...

Tamamori feels Miyata's eyes on him all the time. Ever since they were first put into a group together, Miyata has been watching Tamamori. Tamamori thinks it's a bit weird (like having a stalker whom his parents approve of) but also kind of nice, because Miyata not only looks at him, he looks out for Tamamori. Only, when Tamamori tries to look back at Miyata, he has to look away again because Miyata's smile suddenly dazzles his eyes...

When Yokoo shakes him awake gently at the end of the hour, Tamamori's chest feels strangely hollow and uncomfortable. One hand moves to clutch at it, involuntarily. Yokoo's eyes follow the hand, then up to look questioningly at Tamamori.

"Ah, I must have eaten too fast," mutters Tamamori, coming up with a quick excuse. "This must be what heartburn feels like. I-I'll be right back."

He goes to hide in a bathroom stall, anything to put off the unbearable task of rehearsing without Miyata's retarded smile and sweat and steadiness. Leaning a head against the wall to his right, Tamamori closes his eyes for a moment, and all the images from his dream earlier spring to his mind again with intense clarity.

The realization that he wasn't really dreaming at all during lunch — only remembering — makes his stomach twinge for real.

Tamamori comes to in what seems to be the front hall of either a large mansion or a small castle. He's sitting with his back to a large oaken door, outside of which there seems to be some sort of outdoors party going on, because there's a lot of clanging and shouting and miscellaneous noise.

Inside, there's a heavy silence.

In a circle around him is an inordinately large collection of household items: sofas, hat stands, lamps, tea kettles, mops and brooms, candlesticks, a pendulum clock, a bureau... As Tamamori slowly takes in his surroundings, which get clearer and more detailed the longer he looks, a small feather duster rolls off the top of a tall cabinet and lands in his lap. Absentmindedly, Tamamori picks it up and ruffles the feathers with his hand, enjoying the light tickling feeling.

The feather duster giggles.

"That tickles!" a girly, high-pitched voice says.

"That tickles, yourself," retorts Tamamori, smiling down at the duster.

A large, gusty sigh from above causes Tamamori's bangs to float up a little, and when he looks up to see who it is, all the candlesticks are magically lit up and the circle of furniture seems to have shifted, somehow.

"Excuse me?" he says, climbing to his feet and looking around. "Is someone here?"

"I'm here," flirts the duster in his hand, just as the clock chimes out what sounds like a warning. "Well, I am," the duster says petulantly.

"Oh give it up," says the candelabra to the clock, moving a few paces closer to Tamamori. "The young man won't remember us if we act like mere furniture. And we do need him to have all his wits about him."

"Well, I don't see why he had to go and forget us in the first place," grumbles the clock, turning his back to Tamamori to speak to the candelabra.

"Well, obviously the young master— "

"But I do remember you," interrupts Tamamori, "It's Lumiere and Cogsworth, isn't it? From Beauty and the Beast. It was my favorite Disney movie when I was little, you know."

Now a fat teapot moves forward and speaks up in a motherly voice, "Why yes darling, and I'm Mrs. Potts."

"I wonder why you're not anyone I know in real life this time?" Tamamori wonders. Then he shrugs and says, "I suppose it's because it's my dream."

Just then, a loud boom! right against the door causes the whole house to shake. A moment, in which they all stare at the door with bated breath, and then another boom! forcibly reminds Tamamori of how the story goes. "Oh," he remarks mildly, "that wasn't a party outside, after all."

A third strike from the battering ram outside galvanizes him into action.

"Cogsworth, Lumiere, Mrs. Potts, please see to the defense of the castle. I have go to the roof and find the Beast, I guess."

He rushes off and promptly gets lost in the endless dark hallways and myriad flights of stairs. But now he's used to these dream worlds; he thinks hard of the shingled rooftops, slippery with rain, that he remembers from the Disney movie, and suddenly he's there.

In front of him is a dark lump, barely discernable in the darkness of the night and the pouring rain. "Miyata?" he ventures. "Miyata, is that you?" There's no response, so he reaches out a hand cautiously.

Thunder roars just as his hand touches rough, cold stone. Tamamori's heart leaps to his throat in surprise. Before he gets the chance to wonder what's happened to Miyata, lightning flashes, and he sees that it's just the statue of a gargoyle in front of him. He breathes a sigh of relief and figures he's just mistaken his location, and waits for the next flash of lightning to show him where to find the Beast.

Clearly, briefly, Miyata is outlined against the sky, higher than where Tamamori is now. Tamamori scrambles, not daring to run on the rain-slicked roof tiles, but moving as quickly as he can. He recalls that there's another man climbing up the rooftops, trying to kill the Beast, and tries to look for movement whenever lightning flashes. Nothing shows itself, though, which only makes Tamamori struggle upwards more frantically, more afraid of what he can't see than of what he can.

"Miyacchi!" he calls out when he finally gets there, pausing the briefest moment to get his breath back.

"You made it." Miyata's voice sounds strained, and he's leaning against another gargoyle statue, clutching at his side. But he's smiling, and still very much alive, thank God.

"Of course I made it. Why wouldn't I?"

"Well..." Miyata looks away for a moment, but his tone is teasing, "You didn't make it the last two times, did you?"

Tamamori huffs, puffing out his cheeks. "That was different! I, erm, well..." He casts about for a change of subject. "Hey, is that blood on you? Did you already kill that villager guy who's supposed to come fight you?"

"Yeah," Miyata smiles. "He was no match for my love for Tama-chan."

"Hey," Tamamori objects, "Hey. Aren't I supposed to help you kill him? Why are you going ahead and being the good guy all by yourself?"

"But... that's how the story goes."

"Is it? Are you sure? I thought I was supposed to come and save the day."

"I'm sure, Tama-chan."

"Oh..." Tamamori blinks, disappointed.

"But how come I have to be the Beast?" complains Miyata, pouting at Tamamori. Tamamori smiles at the light-hearted question, but then wonders if it's really such a joke when Miyata continues to say, "Ah, perhaps Tama-chan really thinks of me that way?"

Then, Tamamori's normally placid expression becomes fierce, and his eyes flash. "You retard, don't you know the story, you're my prince, okay?" He grabs an unceremonious fistful of Miyata's shirt and jerks him forward for a kiss.

Fireworks burst overhead and there's angels singing and flower petals floating around and stuff, and Tamamori wants to cry because he's so embarrassed that he could dream something this girly. But then he realizes that this really was how it happened in the movie. All the gargoyles are turning into statues of angels, and darkness gives way to golden light, and inside the house there's laughter as the servants all take their human form again.

Tamamori tries to look at Miyata's beaming face and has to squint because the older man's smile is more dazzling than ever; the sun makes Tamamori's skin feel warm all over. He rolls over in bed and burrows his head under his pillow to block out the sun.

It's Sunday, and there's no work today, but Tamamori gets up and rushes to the train station at 7 in the morning anyway.

He has to wait a long time after he rings the doorbell at Miyata's apartment, and every moment the door stays closed makes him more nervous. He doesn't realize how little he's actually breathing until a sleepy Miyata greets him good morning, and he takes a big gulp of air in relief.

"You sure like to be the girl in the storybooks, Tama-chan," Miyata murmurs later, when they're squashed together in Miyata's tiny, twin-sized bed. "The little mermaid, and Belle..." His face is hidden in Tamamori's hair, but Tamamori can feel the shit-eating grin on his face anyway.

"Shut up," Tamamori swats half-heartedly at the top of Miyata's head. "Be glad I let you off easy. The Beast died in the movie, you know. And besides you were Sleeping Beauty the first time."

"Mm, that's right, isn't it. I guess this is why Tama-chan and I get along the best, after all."

→ Watch the Old Spice commercial referred to in the first dream.
Hakuba no ouji is the Japanese equivalent of "knight in shining armor," only it means literally "prince on a white horse."

Tags: %oneshot, miyata toshiya, tamamori yuta

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