Trusting Reon to take care of the band again, Shirabu dumped his backpack on the sofa he had been sleeping on and looked around the large, lobby-like club room. He didn't have his sewing table, or even a board to put on the floor, so he'd have to improvise. With a sigh, he picked up a coffee table that badly hid an old coffee stain and moved it out of the way, leaving a large part of the floor exposed, then nudged armchairs and sofas out of the way to expand the place. 

Shirabu poked his head out into a room he had scouted when looking for the band, and darted in quietly, picking out a long fold-up table. He bent in the legs and then set it down on the floor, letting it act like his temporary sewing board.

From his backpack, he pulled out the two halves of a shirt he was told to make and a sewing kit. He always had preferred hand stitching then machinery for his favourite customers. It just felt a lot more personal. At least, that's what his grandparents said.

He sat on the table with his legs crossed and hunched over, putting his elbows on the table too as he leaned close to the fabric, threading the needle and beginning. He had his phone with him to check the order description and he got to work calmly, the clock in the background ticking out a beat.

His phone lit up with a call from his brother and Shirabu sighed, answering it on speaker so he could work while he talked.

"Izumo, I swear, you are clingy," He said, before his brother could greet him.

"Ken-ken!" Whined Izumo. "I was worried about you! Why didn't you answer my texts?"

Shirabu huffed. "Because I've got a job to do now."

"But I'm your baby brother!"

"You are, like, three years younger than me. Besides, you've got a job too, now, why aren't you doing that?"

Izumo hummed. "Lunch break. Did you really pass out, by the way?"

Kenjiro made a face. "Let me guess, you didn't?"

"Nope! Eight beers down and I don't even have a headache!"

"Well, lucky you, I killed a whole flask of black coffee in under an hour then chugged a mug of black coffee in a minute. Then I passed out. At work."

Izumo winced audibly. "Damn, you poor, unfortunate lightweight."

Kenjiro rolled his eyes. "Are you just gonna make fun of me? I will hang up on your ass."

"No, Ken-ken, I'm sorry, don't leave me again!" Whined Izumo. "You still haven't told me what job you've got yet!"

Shirabu frowned. "Really? Surely I said something last night."

"Naw, man, last night is a blacked-out blur-"

"Don't Katy Perry me."

"-But I'm pretty sure-"

"Izumo-!"

"-It ruled!"

"You are fucking dead to me."

Izumo's' loud laugh cackled through his speakers and Shirabu laughed a bit too. When his brother calmed down, Shirabu said, "What job do you think I'm doing?"

"Uh, oh, lemme guess! You're, uh, a business partner with Vogue!"

"No."

"Costume designer for Disney?"

"Close-ish but no."

"Oh, costume designer for Marvel!"

"Disney owns Marvel, dipshit."

Izumo's' pout was near audible. "I knew that. Uh, costume designer for any big movie studio?"

Kenjiro smirked. "My, you are bad at this. I'll give you a hint, I'm a costume designer for something popular but it's not a movie studio."

His brother made several thinking noises that dragged on. "Costume designer for a band?"

"Which band?"

"Wait, was I right?!"

"Yeah, which band?"

"Uh- Uh, I have no idea."

Shirabu smiled. "No, no," He laughed lightly. "C'mon, guess. If you get it wrong, I'll tell you."

Izumo huffed. "Okay, okay, uh, is it Blackpink?"

"No way, I'm not there yet."

"BTS?"

"It's not a K-Pop band."

"Kenjiro, I don't know, tell me."

"Don't scream, okay?"

"Okay."

"You know you're not allowed to."

"I know."

"You're not gonna scream?"

"Not gonna scream."

"Promise?"

"Promise!"

Kenjiro breathed in, then said. "I'm working for E-Harmony-"

Izumo started shrieking, making Shirabu's' phone speaker sound like a very loud dying cat. Kenjiro jumped and he could hear, in the distance, music jarring to a halt.

"Izumo!" He shouted at his phone, which still screamed loudly. "Dude, stop screaming!"

The band door opened and Reon rushed through. "Is everything okay?" He asked.

Shirabu nodded and sighed in annoyance, picking up his phone and bringing the speaker close to his face. He yelled, "Shut up, you idiot!" Down the line and his brother stopped screaming, gasping for air. "Izumo, you said you wouldn't scream, ya bitch! I've got a headache and you're not allowed to, dude, can you try to use your brain?"

"My baby brother!" Squealed Izumo, sounding very breathless.

"I'm older than you by three years."

"My baby brother is working for E-Harmony! That's incredible!"

Reon looked at Shirabu curiously and Shirabu just shrugged at him silently.

"'Zumo, please tell me you're not gonna collapse," Shirabu said, hiding the nervousness in his voice. "Do you need me to find you?"

"No, no, it's all good!" His brother loudly practised breathing in and out to calm down. "Ken-ken, that's so cool! Can you get me autographs? I need autographs, Ken-ken!"

Shirabu blinked, slowly looking up at Reon. "Uh..." He began, wondering whether to tell his brother that a member of E-Harmony could hear him right now.

Reon stepped forwards a bit and motioned as if he wanted to say something. Shirabu nodded at him, holding up the phone, and Reon said, "You can totally get autographs. Do you want anyone in particular or should I get you everyone's?"

Izumo went completely silent, then said, "Kenjiro, you sound weird."

"That's not me," Shirabu said. "That's Oohira Reon." There was silence again and Shirabu frowned. "'Zumo? Are you okay?"

The phone started screaming again and Shirabu quickly yanked it away from the drummer and shouted at the phone again. "Izumo, stop screaming, you're gonna hurt your throat! Izumo, calm down! 'Zumo, you know what the doctor said, dammit! Shirabu Izumo, calm down!"

At the use of his full name, his brother obediently shut up, although there was still giddy, dazed laughter coming from the phone.

"Are you still drinking? You seem a bit more, well... Is everything okay? Do you need me to come over?"

"No, no, I'm fine, Ken-ken. Wait, is Oohira Reon really there? Can he hear me?"

Shirabu noticed Ushijima walking into the room and mouthing something at Reon. The assistant manager swallowed awkwardly and put his brother off speaker and held the phone up to his ear, beginning to fold up his half-finished shirt and climbing off the folded-up table.

"No, he can't," Shirabu said, not admitting that he could earlier. "So please don't scream my ear off."

He dumped the fabric and sewing kit into his bag and gestured that he was going to leave the room. Reon and Ushijima nodded and he left them to it, slipping away into an empty room.

Once the assistant manager was gone, Ushijima turned to Reon. "What was all the screaming about? It scared Goshiki half to death."

"I think Shirabu was calling his brother, or something. Turns out his brother didn't know Shirabu was working here and he freaked out."

Ushijima nodded. "And what's the table all about?"

"You know, I actually have no idea. He was sitting on it with some fabric, I think he was sewing or something."

The bass guitarist frowned. "Sewing? On the floor?"

The rehearsal door to the band room burst open and Tendou rushed in and ran into Ushijima. "I'm here! I'm here! Who's the murderer?"

"No one's the murderer, Tendou," Laughed Reon. "It's just a misunderstanding."

"Satori, I thought you were uncomfortable on the idea of leaving the band," Frowned Ushijima.

Tendou made a face. "Well, you left and I realised we were all as good as dead without you, so I came to save my ass. Also, I think my microphone is broken for some reason, can you come and have a look at it?"

"Broke it? How?"

"I accidentally deliberately snapped it in half."

Reon frowned. "You what?"

"Haha!" Tendou laughed awkwardly. "C'mon, Wakatoshi, let's go before I get absolutely slaughtered~!"