Two people sat face-to-face, the other seemingly slouched with lethargy and the other with something akin to that of disappointment or exasperation. The latter turned out to be correct as the brunette sighed loudly and straightened up, both hands on their respective leg.

"I'm an absolute idiot!"  he yelled with such passion that Kuro just had to applaud.

"What a man, he can defame himself with such fervor," his red irises focused on Mahiru as he clapped sarcastically, and the other swatted his hands to a stop. "If you want to start a band, you should atleast find a bassist. Well, there's Twenty One Pi—"
"You're supposed to give me ideas and the right encouragement!"
"Honestly, that's a little too troublesome for third party like me."

Mahiru looked at him with a dead expression and said, "I'm literally forming this new band with you, Kuro."
"I didn't ask to be involved—"
"Well, whatever! We'll find someone somehow. We could atleast just get a bassist for now, then the rest comes— I could do vocals for now since you apparently can't, and if there's nobody else, of course it'd be me who'll do it."

The older male yawned, falling on his back onto the wooden floor of his apartment room, which, earlier, had just been a literal dumpsite. "Then do it all yourself."
"Wha— I mean I honestly would..." Kuro raised a brow, eyes on the ceiling. "Because, well, that's how I usually do things, but this is a different case! I can't play the drums or bass either!"
"Electro?"

It took a moment for Mahiru to register what his companion meant.

"Synths are out of the question! I don't plan to be a pop artist. Besides, it seems more fun. To play onstage with friends, I mean."

"Didn't you have three other guys with you back then?" Kuro's memory decided to hand him an impressionistic image of his moments of vagueness on stage, where a pair of warm brown eyes looked on, exhilarated, as if he was seeing an unexplored horizon of his life in its best condition. The colors blending and melting into the crowd focusing on a small shape in the mass of bodies, yet to be stained with the hideousness of shattered hope.

He found himself lost in the illusion of this nameless portrait, soon to be roused by the voice of the very person who had stood out among the blur of faces. It was just as welcoming and comforting as the windows that had allowed him brief communication with the music.

"Well, yeah, but... how do I put this..." Mahiru nervously glanced around, the former stress of the previous situation still weighing his spirits down a little. "Sakuya's kinda the only one who knows about all this."
Kuro blinked. "Then get Sakuya?"
"Don't say his name like he's a pet, Kuro."
"Hm, who knows? I may be correct?"

When the brunette glared at him, he changed the flow of his dialogues.

"Well, anyways, why don't you just tell the others then you can stop bothering me?"
For some reason, a discreet hurt came about him when he had said that, but Kuro shoved it all to the back of his mind, telling himself it was better that way.

"Huh? Well — no — I honestly don't know why I don't exactly want to. They've been my friends for years," Mahiru hesitated for a brief moment before continuing. "But... you know the feeling of finding something — say, a good book — you want to be yours? Like... sharing it will take its uniqueness away?"

"Excuse me, but are you referring to me as an object?"

"How could you say something so embarrassing with such a serious face?", is what he wanted to add, but he had a feeling that, in doing so, he'd only proceed to make the situation more awkward for him and his undeniably ugly social skills.

"You called Sakuya a pet, it's only fair."
"... What."
"What?"
"What the fuck."

Neither could come up with any further dialogues to keep the conversation animated, and they both sat in silence, each contemplating his own problem. For Kuro, his only issue was this sun that shone light on his lazy morning, quite literally, himself. He sighed, seeing Mahiru's eyebrows knit in concentration, as if thinking of a solid solution to his horrendous ploys.

The pale dropout fell on his back and spread himself out on the floor, his red eyes fixed on the ceiling.

"Just give up already, we're not getting anywhere anyways. Maybe go find someone who is actually passionate about th—"
"There's you."

Kuro raised a brow.

"I mean, you still go practice drumming from time to time, don't you? A number of broken drumsticks i swept out from under your bed didn't have as much dust as the others. Besides," he looked at Kuro's hands. "Something tells me you haven't exactly been slacking off."

Kuro's red eyes flickered over to Mahiru. He had the urge to get up and physically shove the kid out his doorstep, yet he decided aginst this course of action both out of courtesy and out of sheer laziness. He looked back up at the ceiling. It took him a few minutes of contemplation, another three to accept his fate, and a good five seconds form the words.

"Well, if you won't give up when I tell you to, go find these members yourself. And if you really plan on getting me on board, you have to provide food, shelter and everlasting consideration."
"I have no idea what the last one is for, but I have a feeling it's just a plea to not have you carry anything."
"Bingo."

Although Mahiru let out an annoyed sigh, he knew it in himself that he was a little excited.

Kuro did accept, after all.

❄ ❄ ❄

hiii i'm kinda back, sorry for the crappy chapter right after the end of my hiatus (kinda, ok), but it's finally moving. see you~