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ninoexchange2013-06-19 08:13 pm
nino-mod.livejournal.com) wrote in ninoexchange2013-06-19 08:13 pm
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jadeswallow (2/2)
For: jadeswallow
From:domoarigatoyo
Part 1
Ohno tries his best not to look overly suspicious while talking to his “wrist-watch”; “Hey,” he whispers, “Where should I start looking for him? Tokyo isn’t particularly small.” He wonders why he doesn’t think of such things before plunging into things. Too many things.
“Why are you whispering?” Aiba whispers back. “And we kind of forgot about that part. We’re hacking into the hospitals’ databases now to check which one has his records.”
Ohno chuckles soundlessly. “You don’t have to whisper. I’m whispering because it’s weird to talk to your watch.”
From somewhere further away, probably behind Aiba, Ohno hears Taichi’s voice. “I think the action of having your hand close to your mouth is already suspicious, Ohno-kun. You might as well go all out and speak normally.”
Ohno still doesn’t like the idea of talking aloud; although he tries to imagine being in the shoes of someone who witnesses that, and realizes that he wouldn’t think much of it really. Then again, Ohno infrequently judges people.
“Hey!” Aiba whispers excitedly, “We found it! It doesn’t state where he went to from there, but you can try asking the hospital staff. Just tell them that you’re his friend or something. And that he just disappeared from your life.”
“Stop being so dramatic,” Taichi says. Ohno just smiles and whispers his thanks.
The hospital staffs are unexpectedly helpful, and even go as far as to provide the man named Matsuoka Masahiro’s address. Ohno doesn’t suppose that he’d like being the patient of such an indiscriminate hospital, but is nonetheless grateful. The sooner he finds this person, the better. Ninomiya-san probably really misses his device.
And that’s how he finds himself outside Matsuoka’s apartment, ringing the doorbell and waiting patiently for someone to answer the door. Ninomiya-san is my height, he reminds himself, and Matsuoka-san is really tall.
It’s Ninomiya-san who gets the door. “Yes?” He looks kind of annoyed, and Ohno supposes that he could have waited till a later time to disturb the poor guy. 8a.m. is admittedly kind of early. Then again, isn’t it work day? Or is it?
“Um,” Ohno begins, suddenly unsure of what to do, “you’re Ninomiya-san, right? Good morning.”
Ninomiya-san eyes him curiously. “Good morning, but do I know you?”
Ohno shifts about on one foot; “Not exactly,” he admits (is that a crestfallen expression?), “but I’m here to pass you your device. On behalf of Aiba-chan, Taichi-kun and the rest of your department back at…uh, the other side.”
Ninomiya-san is now staring at him like he’s grown an extra head. Not a good sign, Ohno decides.
“And you are?”
Ah, thinks Ohno, that’s what’s wrong. “My name is Ohno Satoshi. I’m just a delegate, you don’t have to worry about my identity really.”
Ninomiya-san looks backwards into his apartment like he’s checking for something, before stepping out of the house and dragging Ohno along with him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he confesses, “I lost my memories in a car accident and they haven’t quite returned to me. Can you explain? My doctor says that some stuff may trigger my memory.”
Uh-oh. Ohno stares at him, permanently sleepy eyes now wide and alert. “…Amnesia?”
“Yes,” Ninomiya-san says impatiently, “that’s what they call it, yes.”
Ohno completely misses the sarcasm. “Uh,” Ohno says, “you don’t remember your work at all?”
“I remember nothing.”
Ohno blinks at him worriedly. “So you think that you belong here?”
“Well,” Nino says with slight exasperation, “obviously this isn’t my home, but he offered, so I’m staying here temporarily. That is, until I regain-”
“That’s not what I meant,” Ohno says urgently, “I meant do you think you belong to this world.”
Ordinarily, Nino might have looked at him weirdly and asked if he’s quite alright up there, but something about Ohno’s words still his tongue. “This…world?”
“This world,” Ohno repeats, “You don’t actually belong here. This is going to sound weird, but-”
“I’m from another reality.” Nino has no idea what he just said.
“Yes,” Ohno says, looking hugely relieved. “Do you remember now?”
“No,” Nino admits, “I don’t even really know why I said that.”
“Oh.” Ohno looks slightly crestfallen, and Nino feels kind of bad.
“But you could fill me in, right?”
“I suppose so, but it’s going to sound far-fetched.”
Nino grins. “Trust me, I’ll be fine.” He’s about to tell Ohno to wait here while he goes in to get a change of clothes so that they can bring their conversation elsewhere, but Ohno decides to launch into a single-sentence explanation.
“You’re from another reality, and you travelled here so that you can stop this world from being wiped out in an apocalypse. That’s the gist of it all.”
“…Oh.”
“And,” Ohno continues, “You have to get out of here in a month and a half’s time, but you don’t have to worry about that because all you need to do is wear the device I brought and it’ll transport you back automatically when the time comes.” Whew, that was about a week’s worth of words.
“Wait,” Nino says, “I’m not doing anything to stop this apocalypse now, you know. How can I go back before doing it?”
Ohno scratches his head and tries to recall Aiba’s explanation. “It’s something called the Butterfly Effect,” he says slowly, “and so all you need is to be right here in this reality. Just exist here for three months, of which a month and a half are up, and it’ll be sufficient for the world to avoid the apocalypse.”
Nino feels his heart sinking into a new level of oblivion; “I can’t go back that soon,” he whispers, mostly to himself.
“Why?”
“Well, Ohno-san, I think I might not be able to go back at all.” He smiles tiredly, and Ohno feels sorry for him despite knowing next to nothing about this man.
“I…oh! I have my own device, so you can actually communicate with them. Perhaps you can ask if the calamity can be avoided even if you stay longer? Or forever?” Ohno thrusts his wrist in Nino’s face, and there’s something about his peculiar wristwatch that seems really familiar, but he just can’t place it.
Ohno presses the top right button and speaks to the watch. “Hey, Aiba-chan? Taichi-kun?”
Aiba? Taichi?
“Yes?” It’s Taichi. “Did you find him?”
“Yup. But he has amnesia.”
Five seconds go by before there’s a response from the other side. “…Amnesia?”
“Yeah. He remembers nothing. But I just filled him in on what’s happening. Ninomiya-san wants to know whether he can stay here in this reality forever and still prevent the apocalypse. Actually, he’s right here. You can talk to him now.” Ohno feels like he’s on a roll. He half-wishes his mum is here to witness his amazing chatting ability today.
“Nino, it’s Taichi. Do you remember me? Or Aiba-chan?”
Nino shakes his head, but belatedly realizes that there’s no screen to communicate through. “No, I don’t,” he says, then adds, “I’m sorry.”
“Brat. You’re never sorry about anything.” A chuckle. “And now you don’t want to come back?”
“…There are some things I can’t leave behind.”
Taichi pauses before replying, “You mean person.”
“Sort of, yeah.”
“You’re really fated with this Matsuoka, huh.” He sounds resigned, and Nino wonders whether he’ll be able to draw the missing connections for them.
“Who is he, actually? I feel like I know him from the past.”
“Nino. This is the ninth reality you’ve been to already. We picked you because you were the only one out of all of us who didn’t have a double, or basically another Ninomiya Kazunari, existing in all ten realities chosen. Getting it so far?”
“Yes. Kind of.”
“Good. Okay. We have no idea if it’s coincidence, but you basically meet the same person every single reality you visit. This person is Matsuoka. Naturally, every reality’s Matsuoka is different. You’re basically meeting the same and different person each reality you visit. Following?”
“…Yes.”
“Well then, that’s half your answer. I’m going to tell you your next half now. A miscalculation on our part made you overstay your visit to reality nine. Now what you must understand is that each reality-”
“Travels on an axis of time,” Nino completes. Ohno simply stares at him.
“Nino? Did you just remember something?”
Nino had figured that regaining his memory would be a slow and painful process, something along the lines of getting splitting headaches with each fragment or spending time walking around in hope of triggers. He hadn’t quite counted on it feeling like the unblocking of a blocked ear; fast, sudden, and unexpected. And painless, even.
“More like everything.”
Ohno smiles and pats him on the back.
“Oh, God. That was fucking scary Ninomiya!” Taichi sounds incredibly relieved, and Nino feels bad for what he’s about to say next.
“…But I don’t want to return to our reality,” he says softly. “Is there a way that I can stay?”
“Are you serious, Nino? You’ve only known him for a month and a half.”
“You know that that’s not true,” Nino argues.
“…I can check it out for you. It shouldn’t take long to calculate.”
“Thanks,” Nino says, and he means it. “Oh, but, what the hell happened to reality ten?”
“Oh yeah. Um, to put it simply, we accidentally shifted reality nine too far and in doing so, it took over reality ten. So the tenth basically vanished and got replaced by the ninth.”
Nino winces inwardly. “…We wiped out an entire reality?”
“I’m sorry.”
“…Wow. Okay. Anyway. So, Matsuoka…”
“Remembers you from eleven years ago, yes. He’s probably goddamn confused by now really.”
“Taichi,” Nino says abruptly, “I’ve gotta go.”
“…This isn’t the last time we’re talking, right?”
“I’m not going to kill reality nine by staying here if I can’t. So get your ass cracking.”
“Shut up. I’m on it.”
Nino smiles and apologizes for causing Ohno trouble. I’ll treat you to coffee one day! he says, and then Ohno understands that that’s it for the day; he passes Nino the second device before leaving and wishes him good luck.
*****
9. 2002
“In my world, we have flying cars and all that cool stuff that mankind portrays in movies.”
Matsuoka, now nineteen years old, the golden age of teenagism, gapes at him in disbelief. “You’re lying!” he announces, despite wanting very much to believe in such a world.
Nino is, of course, but he figures that it’s not going to hurt the kid. He’s only five years younger than you currently, his brain reminds him, but Nino dismisses it. He had practically seen the kid grow up. …Or not really.
“I’m not,” he says, and winks at Matsuoka conspirationally. “I’m only telling you this, so treat it as a special honor okay?”
Matsuoka rolls his eyes. “I’m not five years old, Ninomiya-san. I don’t believe in little secrets and all that stuff anymore.”
Nino feels a certain unnamed sadness tug at his heart at those words; how did the man standing before him grow up so much, so soon? Nino wills himself to forget the memories of Matsuoka at two, at four, at fourteen, and every other reality he has seen him in so far.
“Let’s start anew!” Nino decides, “I’m Ninomiya Kazunari. You are?”
Matsuoka takes the outstretched hand hesitantly; he doesn’t know what the hell the other guy means by this, but it might be fun to play along, so perhaps he will, just for awhile. To see how it goes. “Hullo, Ninomiya-san. My name is Matsuoka Masahiro…nice to meet you!”
Nino grins; it’s the start of something new.
*****
0. 2013
“What do you mean, he doesn’t want to come back?”
“Exactly what it sounds like.” Taichi jabs at the touch-screen platform a little harder than necessary; he hasn’t quite come to terms with Nino’s sudden decision either.
“Because of…Matsuoka-kun?”
“It appears so,” Taichi says blithely. “So what’s the conclusion on him staying there forever?”
Aiba sighs and shakes his head. “The apocalypse happens and we all go to hell.”
Taichi frowns. “He’s not going to leave it at that.”
“No, he isn’t.”
Taichi swipes one finger across the screen; the application shuts down immediately.
“Do me a favor, will you?”
*****
9. 2013
Matsuoka wakes up to an empty bed and feels like something’s amiss. What happened last night? He clutches at his head woefully when the signs of a hangover start to set in; Matsuoka never knows what to do on such days. Staying in the entire day would feel like such a waste, but-
Oh.
A quick consultation with his bedside calendar confirms his worst fears.
“Nagase is going to kill me,” he mutters aloud.
“He would have, but he caved in to my charms.” Matsuoka looks up to see Nino looking fresh and awake, trademark smirk already in place. Damn brat and his-
Oh.
Too many fucking recollections within the span of five minutes. Matsuoka clears his throat awkwardly and stares pointedly at his purple bedspread. Maybe Nino will go away if he remains unresponsive.
“Last night happened whether or not you like it.”
Matsuoka gulps and starts styling his hair haphazardly, lack of gel be damned.
“Also I just regained my memories. Every single bit of it.”
That provokes Matsuoka enough for him to look up, shock and confusion written all over his face. His hands pause in their ministrations, and he looks every bit a candid picture. Nino decides that he quite fancies a surprised Matsuoka every now and then.
“I’m not joking,” Nino says while closing the distance between the two of them, “I remember everything. Including what happened eleven years ago.”
It takes Matsuoka a few more seconds to process this. “So…are you really twenty-four this year?”
“Yes.”
“And at that time, you were-”
“Twenty-four as well. I can explain, so don’t have a panic attack or anything.”
“Am I-”
“No. You’re not dreaming. You’ll never have to wonder whether time spent with me is a dream again, okay? It’s all real.” Nino hopes against hope that what he’s saying is nothing but the truth. Taichi still hasn’t contacted him.
Matsuoka still looks completely lost, just like the kid of fifteen Nino had met, unsure of his own place in such a vast world that has too many people and too little feelings. Nino guesses that some things remain constant even throughout realities.
“Need some milk?”
“…Don’t be a brat. I’m still older than you. Right?”
“Yes. But it was quite fun being older than you in the past.”
“…I spent eleven years wondering, Nino.”
Nino blinks. He hadn’t been expecting that. “About…me?”
“Never mind,” Matsuoka says, already moving to get out of bed, “let me do my morning routine first before we talk.”
Nino nods and heads back to his own room; Matsuoka’s “morning routine” typically takes anywhere from fifteen to twenty minutes, so he figures it’s a good chance to check on his colleagues’ progress. Although he kinds of feels bad about bugging them for something like that.
Nino stares at the odd-looking device and its various buttons that make it look like some kind of futuristic watch. It hasn’t been two months since he had last used it, or at least the old one that had been unceremoniously crushed in the crash, but it might as well have been an entire lifetime ago; it’s strange how your memories can rearrange themselves in a non-chronological idea, Nino thinks, with the more important ones looming at the front always while the rest fade into a listless grey and get left behind. Each reality travels along an axis of time, but nothing of the sort takes place in the human mind, apparently.
He presses the button.
Taichi’s on before Nino even knows it – the device is seamless like that. It’s a marvelous invention, one they had slogged at together for more hours than either can care to remember, but Nino feels like it’s a past he is ready to put aside, to encase in a pretty little frame that will seal it as 2-dimensional history.
“Nino, I have both good and bad news for you. Ready?”
The reality-traveler takes in a deep breath; he had been expecting this, albeit without the good news. Nino figures that he needs an optimist in his life. Or not, if Matsuoka isn’t one.
“Ready as ever,” Nino says, but it comes out as a whisper, uncertain but undeniably hopeful. Optimism has never been Nino’s strength, but sometimes desperation takes precedence over everything else, even negative ones.
“As you will probably already have guessed, the apocalypse will happen if you stay there forever.” Taichi says it matter-of-factly, but Nino knows him better than that, is fully aware of how heavy a burden he has placed on his friend; he just hopes that he’ll be able to make it up to Taichi one day.
“You there? Don’t start crying yet, alright?”
“I’m here,” Nino snaps affectionately (contradiction being a particularly unique trait of his), “and I’m not that weak. Surely your little report isn’t over.”
“I’m not sure how Matsuoka stands your brattiness,” Taichi remarks airily. Nino’s memories start to rearrange themselves once again, and he finds himself missing the sharp-tongued, playful colleague and long-time friend of his. But they aren’t quite at the front, not just yet. Perhaps not ever.
“He’s great,” Nino replies without a trace of his usual sarcasm that accompanies positive comments, “and so are you.”
Silence.
“And therefore is my great little friend ready to tell me the rest of the news yet?”
“I knew that compliment was not without purpose,” Taichi mutters grouchily. Nino laughs a little. “We have taken the liberty to calculate apocalyptic conditions for our reality for if Matsuoka comes over; it’s a positive. We’ll be fine. His reality will be fine as well.”
The practicality within Nino warns him not to rejoice just yet; “And?” he prompts.
“You mean, “but”,” Taichi corrects, and Nino’s heart sinks a little. He hears Matsuoka exit the bathroom, no doubt on his way to chugging the glass of water he downs every morning. Nino retreats to his bed at the further end of the room, away from the door.
“There’s just one complication; Matsuoka will lose all of his memories upon arriving in our reality. We’re unable to configure the device to suit his reality so there’s this particular side effect.”
Nino stays silent despite wanting to laugh at the irony of it all; in a time when they have advanced to the degree of reality manipulation, are they still subject to the tireless hands of Fate? It’s a cruel mockery of science, really, but Nino guesses that that’s the price they will have to pay for transcending boundaries, for venturing too far beyond what they are given in life. There’s always a price to pay, a lesson to learn, an ordeal to endure.
“Nino,” Taichi says, his tone suddenly softer, mellower, “I suggest you relay this to Matsuoka and give him some time to think it over. Regardless of what happens, you have another month and a half there, so make good use of it.”
It’s understandable that no one expects Matsuoka to agree to something like that. Even Nino doesn’t. Has it been a month and a half, or over eleven years? Perhaps, just perhaps, it doesn’t matter either way.
“Thank you,” Nino manages to say with an even tone, but he does mean it. “I will talk to him. And Taichi?”
“Yes?”
“You really are a great friend. I’m glad I haven’t forgotten you.”
“Well, you once did,” Taichi jokes. “But welcome back. I’m going to gut you for making us worry-. Uh, I mean, for being such a troublesome asshole, when you get back. And make sure you drag him back along with you.”
Nino grins and nods, although his colleague can’t possibly see it. “I have no regrets at having worried you,” he announces cheekily, “And goodbye now. I’ll contact you again later.” When I know what happens next.
And then Taichi is gone, the device now silent and watchful of Nino’s next step; he gathers courage from a place reserved for matters too important to be clouded by negativity and strides out of the room, bold and determined, because there may never be another time when he’s able to do it like this again.
“Hey, big boy.”
Matsuoka furrows his brows at the cup he’s currently washing; what the hell is Nino up to this early in the morning? “What, did you do something wrong or something?” His voice comes out hoarse and lower than normal, and Matsuoka feels a slight heat creeping up his face when he involuntarily recalls the events of last night. Damn alcohol and its inhibitions-loosening properties.
Behind him, Nino crosses his arms and pretends to huff; it’s too difficult to act normal when he’s so damn nervous - not that he’d ever admit it. Small in size, huge in pride.
“I haven’t done a single thing wrong ever since I’ve entered this reality,” Nino informs him serenely, “Just so you know.”
Matsuoka whirls around, hands now free from dishes and stuffed in his pockets. “You disappeared years ago,” he replies quietly. The last thing he wants to do is sound like a little girl, but Matsuoka really needs answers, and he needs them now; who knows when Nino would disappear again? It seems to be something tied to his conscious memories.
“We can make it not happen ever again,” Nino says, a hint of desperation tinting the edges of his words, “I’m not going to just poof out of existence again.”
“So?” Matsuoka demands, “What happened the last time?”
Nino can’t resist poking fun at Matsuoka even in the most serious of times; “You’re talking like I disappeared while being in a relationship with you,” he says wryly. Matsuoka looks like he’s about to simultaneously combust from embarrassment and rage. Nino tries to regain seriousness.
“It’s going to be a little hard to explain,” Nino admits. “But I’m still going to anyway, because there’s something important I need to ask you and for that to happen you’ll have to know-”
“I got it,” Matsuoka says, already moving from the kitchen counter to the living room, “Go ahead.”
They take their respective places on the couch, a comfortable distance away from each other; it’s a little awkward. Nino misses the closeness of last night, but he blinks away those thoughts.
“Okay,” Nino begins, “I’m not crazy, just so you know. It’s an important disclaimer, and one that you have to believe in whole-heartedly. This is not a joke, alright?”
Matsuoka considers staring at him in bewilderment and outright laughing, but there’s a certain light, unwavering and strong, in Nino’s eyes that informs his that, no, that may not be such a good idea. He nods and gestures for Nino to proceed.
It takes Nino all of ten minutes to explain every single thing, no matter how unbelievable, to his housemate. To his credit, Matsuoka doesn’t interrupt or claim disbelief at any one point, instead sitting through it like it’s some everyday conversation.
Nino doesn’t tell him about him inability to stay in this reality or Taichi’s suggestion. Yet.
“I’m done.” Nino stares at Matsuoka nervously, for once too frazzled to be bothered about appearances and concealment.
Matsuoka doesn’t make a sound. He’s thinking, Nino reassures himself, give him some time and space. Since when has he become such an optimist?
Matsuoka’s gaze is still fixed on the air beside Nino’s body like the way it has been since Nino had concluded his fantastical story. Nino’s newfound confidence disappears as fast as it had come.
“Well,” Matsuoka says abruptly, “You do know that any explanation you may have given me would have been accepted, anyway. I waited eleven years for an answer. It makes for lots of desperation and random theories which are even more out-there than yours.” He’s still not looking at Nino.
“To put it simply, okay.” Matsuoka finally looks at Nino, and is that fear Nino sees? “But how does this story end? You haven’t told me.”
Nino echoes, “End?” But he knows perfectly well what Matsuoka is referring to.
Well, then.
“I can’t stay here. Earth in your reality will be wiped out. You will be eliminated. In the blink of an eye. That’s what an apocalypse is.”
“Figures,” Matsuoka says, “so it’s not the 2012 apocalypse that’s gonna get us all, huh.”
“No, it isn’t,” Nino agrees, playing along and answering meaninglessly because it’s difficult to say the next part. “So I have about one and a half months left. But, like I said, I’m not going to just disappear again.” It’s a selfish thing to say, because the burden of decision is not his to carry, but Nino thinks that there’s no way this is ever going to work out without some selfishness.
“How?” Matsuoka stares at him incredulously. “Or is that your way of saying you will return to your reality but not without at least a goodbye? Because, you know, that helps…”
Nino shifts closer to him, although he really knows that he shouldn’t, because it’s playing dirty, but he does it anyway. He tugs at Matsuoka’s bermudas lightly and slowly traces the vertical lines running down it; the parallel lines are eerily similar to the parallel axes of time across the different realities, moving forward relentlessly and solitarily. Nino curses the day he had ever learnt about parallel lines. What had his teacher said, so many years ago? Parallel lines will never meet.
“Parallel lines will never meet,” Nino blurts out, “and we are living in parallel axes. But here I am anyway, talking to you, touching you, and just being here. I’m real, Matsuoka.”
“…I know,” Matsuoka says in a tiny voice that tugs at Nino’s heart, “but for how much longer?” He places a hand over Nino’s wandering one almost as if to verify Nino’s materiality, his physical presence; it breaks Nino’s heart a little but he lets Matsuoka do it, allows him any amount of time he may need to fully come to terms with the fact that Nino is here and not the ghost of eleven years ago. Matsuoka has earned it after so long.
And then Nino straightens up, looks at Matsuoka with all the honesty he has to offer, clear as day, no longer the enigma that haunts the latter’s dreams, and hopes that this will be enough for Matsuoka. That Nino without a shroud of mystery is no less than enigmatic, disappearing Nino.
“There is only one solution,” Nino says, voice surprisingly strong, “but it comes at a price.”
Matsuoka looks at him doubtfully, but Nino can see tendrils of hope dance across his irises.
“You can come to live with me in my reality without killing either of our realities, but you will lose all of your memories.”
Matsuoka lets go of Nino’s hand and stares at him, dumbfounded. “What makes you think that that’s only one sacrifice? Leaving behind everything I know and love in this reality is no less of a sacrifice than losing my memories, you know.”
Nino wavers in his confidence and he slumps a little; perhaps he is more selfish than he had regarded himself to be. There really is no reason to Matsuoka to give up so much, after all.
Matsuoka sighs and leans back sideways against the couch backing; there’s just never a perfect solution to anything at all. Although – curse Nino and his idea – images of his current reality, of friends and places, are already starting to grey around the edges like an old, forgotten photograph of bygone times.
“I have technically only known you for two months,” Matsuoka says while staring up at the ceiling. White is an artificial color, he decides; nothing is ever only white or black. “A month and a half, and two weeks in the past.”
“No,” Nino insists, “For eleven years.”
Matsuoka laughs hollowly. “It wasn’t eleven years to you, was it? You flew across realities. You’ve only known me for a couple of months, tops.”
It’s true. Nino has nothing to say to that. Absolute time complicates matters, because how can he feel so much for someone he’s only known for such a short time? How can brief glimpses make up a lifetime?
Matsuoka closes his eyes and visualizes colors, individual but susceptible to blending, to mixing. He shuts out the image of the overwhelming brownish-grey that results from uniformity. “Each reality is distinct and separate. That’s why I can’t move to yours seamlessly, right?”
Nino almost corrects him, tells him that it’s a matter of science and technology, but realizes last minute that Matsuoka is correct. No theory of science can fuse two realities together. No amount of studying can make two parallels meet. So he says yes,, and leaves it at that, because, really, who can argue with the truth?
“And you’re not afraid of that? Of the consequences?”
Nino looks at him, confused. “Consequences?”
“If I’m not meant to be there, then I’m not. Losing my memories may not be the only consequence. It’s just a known consequence, that’s all.”
Nino forces himself to picture a future in which they are not linked in any way, in which, for some reason or another, their paths no longer cross or even meet. It’s a painful thought; he shoves it out of range. “You don’t know that,” he argues, “I refuse to be afraid of consequences that are merely imagined. What happens after that is entirely up to us.”
“Not fate?”
“Not fate,” Nino affirms, “or even if it is, I’ll make sure it’s in our favor. If you managed it, then I can, too.”
That earns him a chuckle from Matsuoka, who finally tears his eyes away from the stark white of the ceiling to focus on Nino, who is a multitude of colors, each one individual but also a result of careful blending and creation. “I’m not sure you can,” he comments.
“I have enough confidence for both of us so stop worrying about it. You’re being annoying.” But Matsuoka is no longer listening because he has closed the distance between them in a single, fluid movement; his face hovers right above Nino’s, the unified beat of their hearts drowning out every other sound in the apartment; but he’s not quite kissing him.
“…What are you doing?” Nino whispers. It suddenly feels really hot in the room, and Nino wonders if he were to reach out to trail his fingertips over Matsuoka’s face, will the latter burst into flames of impossibility, of impenetrability?
“Looking into your eyes,” Matsuoka answers, but for once Nino doesn’t find it cheesy and nor does Matsuoka blush from embarrassment like he always does, like they always do. They stay like this for a couple of seconds, close but not quite touching, with Nino content to offer up every truth he has ever known for inspection, for absorption. The gulf of eleven years is a difficult one to close, but Nino feels a little closer with each second that passes.
“And then,” Matsuoka breathes, but doesn’t continue. It’s his lips on Nino before the latter can even react, can even register what’s happening because why does he always kiss so suddenly?? But it’s not abrupt at all, because Nino will never be able to register the frames of motion that bring them together physically, close and almost impossible, so he gives up and closes his eyes, surrenders to sweet vulnerability without so much as a struggle.
“You know what?” Matsuoka whispers around Nino’s lips and, god, it feels so hot, “I think I’m gay after all.” Nino concentrates on not jabbing the other man in the stomach for that ridiculous revelation (because what is he, dense?), on the way Matsuoka is trailing fingers down his neck, smooth and subtly seductive; Nino shudders (and it’s got nothing to do with atmospheric temperature) and drowns, intoxicated, in the lingering scent of aftershave and feather-light touches.
He can practically feel Matsuoka’s nervousness despite the latter’s ministrations; Nino reaches up to tangle himself in Matsuoka’s hair, to root him right here in the present where nothing else matters much. It’s a subtle act but Matsuoka seems to calm down somewhat, or perhaps it’s simply too difficult to doubt and rationalize when there’s tongues and lips and hands and just everything going on; Nino grins into the kiss at that thought, and he bites down lightly on his partner’s lip, teasing and playful.
“What was that for?” Matsuoka asks, but doesn’t detach himself from where he is close to leaning on Nino. He does, however, move slightly backwards to have a better look at Nino.
“I was just wondering,” Nino replies with renewed nervousness, “if that meant yes.”
“One big event too many.” Matsuoka scratches his head idly and leans back on his knees. “I’m still coming to terms with not being as straight as I want to be. Might take a few days.” He says this with a face of impeccable seriousness, and Nino scowls and considers recommending Matsuoka to enter the entertainment business.
“Doesn’t answer my question.”
“You left me hanging for eleven years,” Matsuoka says with a dazzling smile (that Nino wants to physically wipe off), “A few days in return is hardly anything.”
Nino pouts and retrieves his DS from the table.
*****
2. 1987
“Hello there, little boy. You feeling alright?”
The little boy gapes, open-mouthed, at the stranger who had randomly appeared from nowhere a couple of seconds ago; he rubs his eyes furiously but nothing happens. The stranger is still there, on his knees and at eye-level, smiling at him kindly.
“Eh?”
The stranger reaches out to ruffle his hair; the boy doesn’t move away. It’s kind of scary but also really fascinating, although he doesn’t exactly understand what’s going on.
The stranger looks at him curiously. “You’re not going to cry? Shout for your mummy?” He hastily adds, “Or someone else?”
“Mummy busy,” the boy replies, his voice high-pitched and extremely adorable, “She says crying is for naughty little boys.”
The stranger moves closer to him and asks, “And you’re a good boy?”
The little boy grins proudly and nods. “I’m a good boy!”
The stranger smiles and returns the nod. “Then you must always be a good boy, okay? Matsuoka-kun will always be a good boy.”
It doesn’t occur to the little boy that random strangers shouldn’t know his name. Then again, he barely questioned the peculiarity of the stranger’s appearance. “Play with me?” the little boy suggests. He sits down and pushes the cloth five stones towards the stranger tentatively. There’s always a chance that he may not want to play, just like how mummy and daddy are always too busy to play with him, too.
The stranger bites his lips and appears a little conflicted; the little boy notices none of this. He sits and waits patiently, already telling himself that he won’t be disappointed if they can’t play together. It’s alright, surely.
“I can’t,” the stranger begins, and the little boy automatically smiles because mummy says that the best way to not cry is to do the opposite, which is to smile.
“But give me one of your five stones, okay? I can’t play with you here, but I want to remember you.”
Remember. The little boy thinks that he has heard that word before. It has a lovely ring to it, like church bells on a lazy day. He blinks and nods, slightly unsure but happy nonetheless. “Okay!” he says bravely, because he isn’t sure if they have enough money to afford him another set of five stones, but he wants to give it to the stranger anyway. That way, he will remember him. “I want to remember you too!” he exclaims.
The stranger reaches for the little boy’s hand in answer, placing his small palm in his own larger one. “I will trace something invisible here. It’s the kanji for friendship. Only you will ever know about it, okay?”
The little boy echoes, “Invisible?” But he knows what friendship means. It gives him a warm and fuzzy feeling, like when he goes over to his neighbor’s to play with their little boy of four and they have a great time together. It’s the best gift ever, so when the stranger seems done with the invisible friendship he placed onto his palm, the little boy rushes forward to hug him in gratitude. “Thank you,” he says happily, “I like friendship! I like you!”
The stranger disappears halfway through the hug, but the little boy isn’t too fazed by that. Normal people seem to appear and exit at various points pretty quickly too, just perhaps not as instantaneous as the stranger had been.
He looks down at his palm and tries his best to re-trace what the stranger had written while thinking of what the latter had said right before he had vanished.
The little boy smiles and skips back towards his house; “I’ll always be your friend, too.”
*****
9. 2013
Two days after Nino regains his memories, Matsuoka disappears.
He wakes up to an empty bed (they had somehow managed to come up with reasons for sleeping together at night each time) and a note on the bedside table. I’ll be back, it had said, and Nino had sighed but chosen to believe in him anyway. There’s nothing much else he can do.
On the third day of his disappearance, there’s a knock on the door and Nino spends five futile minutes trying to explain that, no, there’s no reason for movers to be here because the house isn’t being sold, so why can’t you understand that?
Just as he is about to dial for someone – the police, his errant housemate, or even Nagase – Matsuoka abruptly appears through the door, looking pretty much the same save for his new unshaven look. He smiles and asks the movers whether he can help while Nino remains rooted at his spot near the kitchen, watching the whole scene unfold with half a million questions buzzing around in his head.
“Come help,” Matsuoka says as he picks up a piece of furniture near the kitchen. “I’m paying by the hour.”
“Excuse me, but I don’t really understand what’s happening,” Nino says sharply. “And hello to you too. It’s been a great three days.”
“I’m sorry,” Matsuoka says apologetically, and actually has the gall to peck Nino on the cheek despite having a whole lot of strangers in his house.
Nino demands, slightly flustered but still very much annoyed, “Did you go do something to permanently disable you from blushing?”
“No,” Matsuoka says simply, “I’m kissing you because that’s the way it is.”
“Oh, and,” he adds with a smirk, “I think you inherited my blush.”
Nino punches him in the shoulder and turns away. “I’m not your son, you retard. I inherited nothing from you.” But he starts to move (as slow as is possible) around the house to help whenever is possible (but accepting rejections readily); he figures that Matsuoka will tell him when he’s ready.”
“So?” Nino demands as soon as the movers are out of the house, “What is this all about?”
“You’re like my wife,” Matsuoka says affectionately while ruffling through Nino’s hair.
“I’m not your-” But he never gets to finish, because Matsuoka has him in a fierce hug, strong arms surrounding his small frame with relative ease and fit. “I missed you,” he says simply.
Nino thinks that he may have been right about the inheriting thing. “Shut up,” he says without malice, “where have you been?”
Matsuoka lets go of Nino and gestures at nothing in particular. “This is your answer.”
“Okay, I get it, I get it. I baffled you for eleven years. But can you please not do that to me?” Nino presents Matsuoka with his best and most adorable pout (that he learned from Aiba – not that he’s ever admitting it) and prays its current and cumulative hit rate of 100% (excepting Taichi – that man has a heart made of stone, really) will not fail him now. Matsuoka rolls his eyes. Nino’s pout feels threatened, just a little.
“You’re going to baffle me for more years to come, Nino. I think that this is only fair, don’t you?”
“…Is that what I think it is?”
“That’s somewhat cryptic,” Matsuoka replies.
“Then it is,” Nino says, and actually leaps onto Matsuoka, who only barely manages not to stumble backwards; the latter thwacks him on the head, hard, but Nino responds with laughter, too ecstatic to care about anything else now. “You’re coming with me!” he yells excitedly, instantly reverting to the five year old he never was. Matsuoka sighs and steers them both towards the living room where he can deposit Nino on his favorite couch.
“Yes I am,” Matsuoka says, “Although I nearly had my head torn off by Nagase. That man is insane.”
Nino looks at him curiously. “What explanation did you give?”
“That I’m going away to, uh, find a new me. And that that place won’t have connections whatsoever.”
“Find a new you,” Nino repeats incredulously, “and he accepted it.”
“Nagase is a man with a big heart and slightly smaller brains,” Matsuoka says fondly. He’s going to miss his slightly air-headed business partner.
“So he’s going to manage the car repair workshop on his own?”
“He is surprisingly good at such stuff, despite being less adequate in other areas.” Matsuoka is always so kind with his words.
“…I see. And so this whole house thing…surely you know that we can’t bring furniture over…”
“I know that,” Matsuoka scowls, “I’m not Nagase. I’ve sold all of it, actually. All proceeds go towards the relevant people.” Nino doesn’t ask about who these relevant people are.
“And the house?”
“Sold.”
“That’s fast.”
Matsuoka grins hugely. With teeth. “I’m an excellent sweet-talker.”
Nino scoffs at that. “When you’re not blushing, that is.”
Matsuoka doesn’t take offense. “You inherited that,” he replies merrily.
“Did not.”
“Did too.”
“Did not.”
“Did too.”
“DID NOT.”
“DID TOO.”
“…DID YOU SELL THE GAMES AS WELL.”
Matsuoka blinks at him. “Well, duh. We can practically go over to your reality now, right? Why do I need all these around for?”
“…Oh.”
“You’re blushing.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“NO.”
“YES.”
“SHUT UP ALREADY.”
“YOU’RE STUCK WITH ME FOREVER.”
That shuts Nino up.
*****
0. 2013
The first thing he sees when he comes to is a shadow at the window. Or a person who looks like a shadow, because his outline is black against the blazing sun. He looks almost unreal.
But, the man discovers, that is not true. The shadow by the window moves and turns around and he is suddenly no longer a shadow; what had been darkness and a yawning black previously gives way to a burst of colors, humane and warm.
“You’re awake!” The window person says excitedly. He’s in a yellow tee-shirt and knee-length shorts, and the man can’t help but smile at that sight; he doesn’t know why, seeing as his brain seems to be a huge, white blank right now, but it feels right. Something feels right, so he smiles despite lying down in what seems to be a hospital bed.
There’s a straw and a cup of water next to him before he can even open his mouth to ask for it; the man drinks from it gratefully, but realizes with a grimace that he can feel nothing but pain in his right arm.
[[Rewind: 0. 2013, 1 day ago.
“HOLY FUCK TAICHI, WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?!”
Taichi turns to look at his newly-returned colleague, completely unfazed by formidable anger. “This will make it seem more real. The plan is to let him think that he was in an accident, right? You can’t be in one without sustaining an injury.”
Nino narrows his eyes. Aiba scuttles away quickly from danger zone. “But you didn’t have to breakthud is heard from the collision of head and ground. Nino’s left eye twitches violently.
“Alright, folks! What are we waiting for?” Taichi claps his hands and smiles with maximum teeth showing. “Let’s get this amnesiac dude to the hospital! Be careful with the broken arm~”
Nino clutches his head and lets out a low, anguished moan.]]
“By the way,” the window person says, “I’m Ninomiya Kazunari. Oh, but, er, do you remember anything? As in, are your memories intact? Um.” He seems flustered, and the man doesn’t quite get what’s happening, but he tries to recall something anyway.
He draws a blank.
“Don’t worry,” the man named Ninomiya says quickly, “It’s alright. You just have amnesia, that’s all. Your name is-”
“Matsuoka. Matsuoka Masahiro, right?”
Nino stares at him in shock. “You…can remember that?”
“And nothing else,” Matsuoka says mournfully. He feels like a stranger in his own mind, which is an endless white of nothingness.
“Doesn’t matter, Matsuoka. It’ll be alright.” Matsuoka wants to ask him what the hell that means, how can it be alright when he recalls nothing?
“I’m Nino. We’re friends, and I’ll take care of you.”
“…No, we’re not really friends, are we.” Matsuoka doesn’t know why he said that, but he doesn’t question it. Nothing’s making sense anyway.
“Not exactly,” Nino admits, but he looks far from discouraged. “It’s strange of me to say this, but just stick with me and we’ll work out something together.”
Matsuoka narrows his eyes at his supposed new friend. “You’re responsible for the state I’m in, aren’t you.”
Nino smiles sheepishly. “Kind of?”
Matsuoka sighs and closes his eyes; he expects to see nothing but white, which seems to be the new color of despair, but instead he sees spots of yellow, not quite the sun but equally dazzling, and he follows them curiously down a never-ending path.
“Stay with me?” Nino suggests. Matsuoka opens one eye and sees that Nino is wearing yellow. Huh.
“…I guess?” Matsuoka shrugs; perhaps he himself is some kind of hobo with no actual house or anything like that. It’s probably better to accept some help for now.
“Great! Oh and, Matsuoka?”
“Hmm?”
“You’ll never be alone. Let’s shake on that.”
He doesn’t completely get what his new (and really strange) friend is saying, but Matsuoka supposes that he can shake on this, on the start to a new and confusing life, on the start of a new friendship (whether or not Nino had been the cause of his amnesia and broken arm), so he takes the extended hand in his right (and non-painful) one and nods once to indicate acceptance and appreciation.
Later that night, after Nino (and a bubbly guy named Aiba, as well as a somewhat ferocious but interesting guy named Taichi) leaves, Matsuoka falls into a deep slumber. He dreams of odd things like lines and shapes, and houses and cars, but most of all he dreams of color, beautifully unique but never alone, each one borne from a myriad of others still.
*****
1. 1985
Nino looks at the baby/toddler in front of him curiously. “Are you Matsuoka Masahiro? Hmm?” The toddler makes a little sound. It sounds neither like a yes nor a no.
Nino chuckles and pats him on his head gently. “You probably are, huh. That’s cute. Still a baby. But where is this place…”
Nino stands up and dusts non-existent dust off himself and looks around; it’d be slightly troublesome to show up unannounced in someone’s house, really. Even if he is only going to be here for a couple of minutes. The first and only rule to reality travelling is: don’t die. Nino plans on abiding that.
With a start, he realizes that there are several other cots in the room. What a big family, he thinks.
Someone walks in. Nino prepares to hide, but it’s somewhat too late. “Hello there!” the lady says brightly, leaving Nino extremely puzzled at her welcoming attitude. “Are you here to visit or to adopt?”
Adopt? “Um,” Nino mumbles, “to…visit. Just taking a look.”
“Ah, I see. That’s Matsuoka-kun right there, the one you’re in front of. How adorable, right? He just spoke his first word the other day!”
Nino forces out a strained smile. “Ah, is that so?”
“Yes! Sadly, though, we didn’t have a recorder on hand. Ah, I must be disturbing you! Please take your time with the babies. I will be right outside.”
Nino nods and watches her go, the queasy feeling in his stomach refusing to dissipate. He wonders which Matsuoka he meets will start his life like this, and which will have a normal beginning; he thinks that it may be that some events of a person’s life are unchanging even across realities.
Nino turns back towards the baby with puffy cheeks and huge, inquisitive eyes. He has about a minute left. Nino bends down and holds the baby’s hand in his; it’s tiny, so much smaller than his, but Nino knows that he will grow up into a fine young man. He has to.
“Hey,” Nino whispers, and the baby responds by locking gazes with him, young eyes still untainted by knowledge, untouched by harshness. “You’ll be fine, okay? I’m going to see you another nine times, and you’re going to be just fine. Gonna grow up into a fine young man.” Nino means it. He doesn’t know it, but it’s never a bad thing to believe, however little faith he usually possesses.
The baby looks slightly confused, but smiles and giggles at Nino happily, his laughter clear and melodious. It’s the last thing Nino sees before he vanishes for the first time, finally clear on why he wants to be on this mission, on what’s worth saving in realities so far away, parallel to each other but nevertheless connected by invisible bonds of friendship and love.
*****
A/N: THE END. I hope that I managed to deliver in some way or another, even though I was quite clueless for this pairing and characterization was just so damn hard, oh my god. I know you asked for lots of romance and touching, but I couldn’t elude sci-fi no matter how I hard I tried and how many drafts I abandoned (okay, just one – but it was 10,000 words! Then I couldn’t continue.) sooooooo…
So, that was not really an explanation. But okay. Let me end my rambling here. Thank you for requesting & for reading <3
jadeswallowFrom:
domoarigatoyoPart 1
Ohno tries his best not to look overly suspicious while talking to his “wrist-watch”; “Hey,” he whispers, “Where should I start looking for him? Tokyo isn’t particularly small.” He wonders why he doesn’t think of such things before plunging into things. Too many things.
“Why are you whispering?” Aiba whispers back. “And we kind of forgot about that part. We’re hacking into the hospitals’ databases now to check which one has his records.”
Ohno chuckles soundlessly. “You don’t have to whisper. I’m whispering because it’s weird to talk to your watch.”
From somewhere further away, probably behind Aiba, Ohno hears Taichi’s voice. “I think the action of having your hand close to your mouth is already suspicious, Ohno-kun. You might as well go all out and speak normally.”
Ohno still doesn’t like the idea of talking aloud; although he tries to imagine being in the shoes of someone who witnesses that, and realizes that he wouldn’t think much of it really. Then again, Ohno infrequently judges people.
“Hey!” Aiba whispers excitedly, “We found it! It doesn’t state where he went to from there, but you can try asking the hospital staff. Just tell them that you’re his friend or something. And that he just disappeared from your life.”
“Stop being so dramatic,” Taichi says. Ohno just smiles and whispers his thanks.
The hospital staffs are unexpectedly helpful, and even go as far as to provide the man named Matsuoka Masahiro’s address. Ohno doesn’t suppose that he’d like being the patient of such an indiscriminate hospital, but is nonetheless grateful. The sooner he finds this person, the better. Ninomiya-san probably really misses his device.
And that’s how he finds himself outside Matsuoka’s apartment, ringing the doorbell and waiting patiently for someone to answer the door. Ninomiya-san is my height, he reminds himself, and Matsuoka-san is really tall.
It’s Ninomiya-san who gets the door. “Yes?” He looks kind of annoyed, and Ohno supposes that he could have waited till a later time to disturb the poor guy. 8a.m. is admittedly kind of early. Then again, isn’t it work day? Or is it?
“Um,” Ohno begins, suddenly unsure of what to do, “you’re Ninomiya-san, right? Good morning.”
Ninomiya-san eyes him curiously. “Good morning, but do I know you?”
Ohno shifts about on one foot; “Not exactly,” he admits (is that a crestfallen expression?), “but I’m here to pass you your device. On behalf of Aiba-chan, Taichi-kun and the rest of your department back at…uh, the other side.”
Ninomiya-san is now staring at him like he’s grown an extra head. Not a good sign, Ohno decides.
“And you are?”
Ah, thinks Ohno, that’s what’s wrong. “My name is Ohno Satoshi. I’m just a delegate, you don’t have to worry about my identity really.”
Ninomiya-san looks backwards into his apartment like he’s checking for something, before stepping out of the house and dragging Ohno along with him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he confesses, “I lost my memories in a car accident and they haven’t quite returned to me. Can you explain? My doctor says that some stuff may trigger my memory.”
Uh-oh. Ohno stares at him, permanently sleepy eyes now wide and alert. “…Amnesia?”
“Yes,” Ninomiya-san says impatiently, “that’s what they call it, yes.”
Ohno completely misses the sarcasm. “Uh,” Ohno says, “you don’t remember your work at all?”
“I remember nothing.”
Ohno blinks at him worriedly. “So you think that you belong here?”
“Well,” Nino says with slight exasperation, “obviously this isn’t my home, but he offered, so I’m staying here temporarily. That is, until I regain-”
“That’s not what I meant,” Ohno says urgently, “I meant do you think you belong to this world.”
Ordinarily, Nino might have looked at him weirdly and asked if he’s quite alright up there, but something about Ohno’s words still his tongue. “This…world?”
“This world,” Ohno repeats, “You don’t actually belong here. This is going to sound weird, but-”
“I’m from another reality.” Nino has no idea what he just said.
“Yes,” Ohno says, looking hugely relieved. “Do you remember now?”
“No,” Nino admits, “I don’t even really know why I said that.”
“Oh.” Ohno looks slightly crestfallen, and Nino feels kind of bad.
“But you could fill me in, right?”
“I suppose so, but it’s going to sound far-fetched.”
Nino grins. “Trust me, I’ll be fine.” He’s about to tell Ohno to wait here while he goes in to get a change of clothes so that they can bring their conversation elsewhere, but Ohno decides to launch into a single-sentence explanation.
“You’re from another reality, and you travelled here so that you can stop this world from being wiped out in an apocalypse. That’s the gist of it all.”
“…Oh.”
“And,” Ohno continues, “You have to get out of here in a month and a half’s time, but you don’t have to worry about that because all you need to do is wear the device I brought and it’ll transport you back automatically when the time comes.” Whew, that was about a week’s worth of words.
“Wait,” Nino says, “I’m not doing anything to stop this apocalypse now, you know. How can I go back before doing it?”
Ohno scratches his head and tries to recall Aiba’s explanation. “It’s something called the Butterfly Effect,” he says slowly, “and so all you need is to be right here in this reality. Just exist here for three months, of which a month and a half are up, and it’ll be sufficient for the world to avoid the apocalypse.”
Nino feels his heart sinking into a new level of oblivion; “I can’t go back that soon,” he whispers, mostly to himself.
“Why?”
“Well, Ohno-san, I think I might not be able to go back at all.” He smiles tiredly, and Ohno feels sorry for him despite knowing next to nothing about this man.
“I…oh! I have my own device, so you can actually communicate with them. Perhaps you can ask if the calamity can be avoided even if you stay longer? Or forever?” Ohno thrusts his wrist in Nino’s face, and there’s something about his peculiar wristwatch that seems really familiar, but he just can’t place it.
Ohno presses the top right button and speaks to the watch. “Hey, Aiba-chan? Taichi-kun?”
Aiba? Taichi?
“Yes?” It’s Taichi. “Did you find him?”
“Yup. But he has amnesia.”
Five seconds go by before there’s a response from the other side. “…Amnesia?”
“Yeah. He remembers nothing. But I just filled him in on what’s happening. Ninomiya-san wants to know whether he can stay here in this reality forever and still prevent the apocalypse. Actually, he’s right here. You can talk to him now.” Ohno feels like he’s on a roll. He half-wishes his mum is here to witness his amazing chatting ability today.
“Nino, it’s Taichi. Do you remember me? Or Aiba-chan?”
Nino shakes his head, but belatedly realizes that there’s no screen to communicate through. “No, I don’t,” he says, then adds, “I’m sorry.”
“Brat. You’re never sorry about anything.” A chuckle. “And now you don’t want to come back?”
“…There are some things I can’t leave behind.”
Taichi pauses before replying, “You mean person.”
“Sort of, yeah.”
“You’re really fated with this Matsuoka, huh.” He sounds resigned, and Nino wonders whether he’ll be able to draw the missing connections for them.
“Who is he, actually? I feel like I know him from the past.”
“Nino. This is the ninth reality you’ve been to already. We picked you because you were the only one out of all of us who didn’t have a double, or basically another Ninomiya Kazunari, existing in all ten realities chosen. Getting it so far?”
“Yes. Kind of.”
“Good. Okay. We have no idea if it’s coincidence, but you basically meet the same person every single reality you visit. This person is Matsuoka. Naturally, every reality’s Matsuoka is different. You’re basically meeting the same and different person each reality you visit. Following?”
“…Yes.”
“Well then, that’s half your answer. I’m going to tell you your next half now. A miscalculation on our part made you overstay your visit to reality nine. Now what you must understand is that each reality-”
“Travels on an axis of time,” Nino completes. Ohno simply stares at him.
“Nino? Did you just remember something?”
Nino had figured that regaining his memory would be a slow and painful process, something along the lines of getting splitting headaches with each fragment or spending time walking around in hope of triggers. He hadn’t quite counted on it feeling like the unblocking of a blocked ear; fast, sudden, and unexpected. And painless, even.
“More like everything.”
Ohno smiles and pats him on the back.
“Oh, God. That was fucking scary Ninomiya!” Taichi sounds incredibly relieved, and Nino feels bad for what he’s about to say next.
“…But I don’t want to return to our reality,” he says softly. “Is there a way that I can stay?”
“Are you serious, Nino? You’ve only known him for a month and a half.”
“You know that that’s not true,” Nino argues.
“…I can check it out for you. It shouldn’t take long to calculate.”
“Thanks,” Nino says, and he means it. “Oh, but, what the hell happened to reality ten?”
“Oh yeah. Um, to put it simply, we accidentally shifted reality nine too far and in doing so, it took over reality ten. So the tenth basically vanished and got replaced by the ninth.”
Nino winces inwardly. “…We wiped out an entire reality?”
“I’m sorry.”
“…Wow. Okay. Anyway. So, Matsuoka…”
“Remembers you from eleven years ago, yes. He’s probably goddamn confused by now really.”
“Taichi,” Nino says abruptly, “I’ve gotta go.”
“…This isn’t the last time we’re talking, right?”
“I’m not going to kill reality nine by staying here if I can’t. So get your ass cracking.”
“Shut up. I’m on it.”
Nino smiles and apologizes for causing Ohno trouble. I’ll treat you to coffee one day! he says, and then Ohno understands that that’s it for the day; he passes Nino the second device before leaving and wishes him good luck.
*****
9. 2002
“In my world, we have flying cars and all that cool stuff that mankind portrays in movies.”
Matsuoka, now nineteen years old, the golden age of teenagism, gapes at him in disbelief. “You’re lying!” he announces, despite wanting very much to believe in such a world.
Nino is, of course, but he figures that it’s not going to hurt the kid. He’s only five years younger than you currently, his brain reminds him, but Nino dismisses it. He had practically seen the kid grow up. …Or not really.
“I’m not,” he says, and winks at Matsuoka conspirationally. “I’m only telling you this, so treat it as a special honor okay?”
Matsuoka rolls his eyes. “I’m not five years old, Ninomiya-san. I don’t believe in little secrets and all that stuff anymore.”
Nino feels a certain unnamed sadness tug at his heart at those words; how did the man standing before him grow up so much, so soon? Nino wills himself to forget the memories of Matsuoka at two, at four, at fourteen, and every other reality he has seen him in so far.
“Let’s start anew!” Nino decides, “I’m Ninomiya Kazunari. You are?”
Matsuoka takes the outstretched hand hesitantly; he doesn’t know what the hell the other guy means by this, but it might be fun to play along, so perhaps he will, just for awhile. To see how it goes. “Hullo, Ninomiya-san. My name is Matsuoka Masahiro…nice to meet you!”
Nino grins; it’s the start of something new.
*****
0. 2013
“What do you mean, he doesn’t want to come back?”
“Exactly what it sounds like.” Taichi jabs at the touch-screen platform a little harder than necessary; he hasn’t quite come to terms with Nino’s sudden decision either.
“Because of…Matsuoka-kun?”
“It appears so,” Taichi says blithely. “So what’s the conclusion on him staying there forever?”
Aiba sighs and shakes his head. “The apocalypse happens and we all go to hell.”
Taichi frowns. “He’s not going to leave it at that.”
“No, he isn’t.”
Taichi swipes one finger across the screen; the application shuts down immediately.
“Do me a favor, will you?”
*****
9. 2013
Matsuoka wakes up to an empty bed and feels like something’s amiss. What happened last night? He clutches at his head woefully when the signs of a hangover start to set in; Matsuoka never knows what to do on such days. Staying in the entire day would feel like such a waste, but-
Oh.
A quick consultation with his bedside calendar confirms his worst fears.
“Nagase is going to kill me,” he mutters aloud.
“He would have, but he caved in to my charms.” Matsuoka looks up to see Nino looking fresh and awake, trademark smirk already in place. Damn brat and his-
Oh.
Too many fucking recollections within the span of five minutes. Matsuoka clears his throat awkwardly and stares pointedly at his purple bedspread. Maybe Nino will go away if he remains unresponsive.
“Last night happened whether or not you like it.”
Matsuoka gulps and starts styling his hair haphazardly, lack of gel be damned.
“Also I just regained my memories. Every single bit of it.”
That provokes Matsuoka enough for him to look up, shock and confusion written all over his face. His hands pause in their ministrations, and he looks every bit a candid picture. Nino decides that he quite fancies a surprised Matsuoka every now and then.
“I’m not joking,” Nino says while closing the distance between the two of them, “I remember everything. Including what happened eleven years ago.”
It takes Matsuoka a few more seconds to process this. “So…are you really twenty-four this year?”
“Yes.”
“And at that time, you were-”
“Twenty-four as well. I can explain, so don’t have a panic attack or anything.”
“Am I-”
“No. You’re not dreaming. You’ll never have to wonder whether time spent with me is a dream again, okay? It’s all real.” Nino hopes against hope that what he’s saying is nothing but the truth. Taichi still hasn’t contacted him.
Matsuoka still looks completely lost, just like the kid of fifteen Nino had met, unsure of his own place in such a vast world that has too many people and too little feelings. Nino guesses that some things remain constant even throughout realities.
“Need some milk?”
“…Don’t be a brat. I’m still older than you. Right?”
“Yes. But it was quite fun being older than you in the past.”
“…I spent eleven years wondering, Nino.”
Nino blinks. He hadn’t been expecting that. “About…me?”
“Never mind,” Matsuoka says, already moving to get out of bed, “let me do my morning routine first before we talk.”
Nino nods and heads back to his own room; Matsuoka’s “morning routine” typically takes anywhere from fifteen to twenty minutes, so he figures it’s a good chance to check on his colleagues’ progress. Although he kinds of feels bad about bugging them for something like that.
Nino stares at the odd-looking device and its various buttons that make it look like some kind of futuristic watch. It hasn’t been two months since he had last used it, or at least the old one that had been unceremoniously crushed in the crash, but it might as well have been an entire lifetime ago; it’s strange how your memories can rearrange themselves in a non-chronological idea, Nino thinks, with the more important ones looming at the front always while the rest fade into a listless grey and get left behind. Each reality travels along an axis of time, but nothing of the sort takes place in the human mind, apparently.
He presses the button.
Taichi’s on before Nino even knows it – the device is seamless like that. It’s a marvelous invention, one they had slogged at together for more hours than either can care to remember, but Nino feels like it’s a past he is ready to put aside, to encase in a pretty little frame that will seal it as 2-dimensional history.
“Nino, I have both good and bad news for you. Ready?”
The reality-traveler takes in a deep breath; he had been expecting this, albeit without the good news. Nino figures that he needs an optimist in his life. Or not, if Matsuoka isn’t one.
“Ready as ever,” Nino says, but it comes out as a whisper, uncertain but undeniably hopeful. Optimism has never been Nino’s strength, but sometimes desperation takes precedence over everything else, even negative ones.
“As you will probably already have guessed, the apocalypse will happen if you stay there forever.” Taichi says it matter-of-factly, but Nino knows him better than that, is fully aware of how heavy a burden he has placed on his friend; he just hopes that he’ll be able to make it up to Taichi one day.
“You there? Don’t start crying yet, alright?”
“I’m here,” Nino snaps affectionately (contradiction being a particularly unique trait of his), “and I’m not that weak. Surely your little report isn’t over.”
“I’m not sure how Matsuoka stands your brattiness,” Taichi remarks airily. Nino’s memories start to rearrange themselves once again, and he finds himself missing the sharp-tongued, playful colleague and long-time friend of his. But they aren’t quite at the front, not just yet. Perhaps not ever.
“He’s great,” Nino replies without a trace of his usual sarcasm that accompanies positive comments, “and so are you.”
Silence.
“And therefore is my great little friend ready to tell me the rest of the news yet?”
“I knew that compliment was not without purpose,” Taichi mutters grouchily. Nino laughs a little. “We have taken the liberty to calculate apocalyptic conditions for our reality for if Matsuoka comes over; it’s a positive. We’ll be fine. His reality will be fine as well.”
The practicality within Nino warns him not to rejoice just yet; “And?” he prompts.
“You mean, “but”,” Taichi corrects, and Nino’s heart sinks a little. He hears Matsuoka exit the bathroom, no doubt on his way to chugging the glass of water he downs every morning. Nino retreats to his bed at the further end of the room, away from the door.
“There’s just one complication; Matsuoka will lose all of his memories upon arriving in our reality. We’re unable to configure the device to suit his reality so there’s this particular side effect.”
Nino stays silent despite wanting to laugh at the irony of it all; in a time when they have advanced to the degree of reality manipulation, are they still subject to the tireless hands of Fate? It’s a cruel mockery of science, really, but Nino guesses that that’s the price they will have to pay for transcending boundaries, for venturing too far beyond what they are given in life. There’s always a price to pay, a lesson to learn, an ordeal to endure.
“Nino,” Taichi says, his tone suddenly softer, mellower, “I suggest you relay this to Matsuoka and give him some time to think it over. Regardless of what happens, you have another month and a half there, so make good use of it.”
It’s understandable that no one expects Matsuoka to agree to something like that. Even Nino doesn’t. Has it been a month and a half, or over eleven years? Perhaps, just perhaps, it doesn’t matter either way.
“Thank you,” Nino manages to say with an even tone, but he does mean it. “I will talk to him. And Taichi?”
“Yes?”
“You really are a great friend. I’m glad I haven’t forgotten you.”
“Well, you once did,” Taichi jokes. “But welcome back. I’m going to gut you for making us worry-. Uh, I mean, for being such a troublesome asshole, when you get back. And make sure you drag him back along with you.”
Nino grins and nods, although his colleague can’t possibly see it. “I have no regrets at having worried you,” he announces cheekily, “And goodbye now. I’ll contact you again later.” When I know what happens next.
And then Taichi is gone, the device now silent and watchful of Nino’s next step; he gathers courage from a place reserved for matters too important to be clouded by negativity and strides out of the room, bold and determined, because there may never be another time when he’s able to do it like this again.
“Hey, big boy.”
Matsuoka furrows his brows at the cup he’s currently washing; what the hell is Nino up to this early in the morning? “What, did you do something wrong or something?” His voice comes out hoarse and lower than normal, and Matsuoka feels a slight heat creeping up his face when he involuntarily recalls the events of last night. Damn alcohol and its inhibitions-loosening properties.
Behind him, Nino crosses his arms and pretends to huff; it’s too difficult to act normal when he’s so damn nervous - not that he’d ever admit it. Small in size, huge in pride.
“I haven’t done a single thing wrong ever since I’ve entered this reality,” Nino informs him serenely, “Just so you know.”
Matsuoka whirls around, hands now free from dishes and stuffed in his pockets. “You disappeared years ago,” he replies quietly. The last thing he wants to do is sound like a little girl, but Matsuoka really needs answers, and he needs them now; who knows when Nino would disappear again? It seems to be something tied to his conscious memories.
“We can make it not happen ever again,” Nino says, a hint of desperation tinting the edges of his words, “I’m not going to just poof out of existence again.”
“So?” Matsuoka demands, “What happened the last time?”
Nino can’t resist poking fun at Matsuoka even in the most serious of times; “You’re talking like I disappeared while being in a relationship with you,” he says wryly. Matsuoka looks like he’s about to simultaneously combust from embarrassment and rage. Nino tries to regain seriousness.
“It’s going to be a little hard to explain,” Nino admits. “But I’m still going to anyway, because there’s something important I need to ask you and for that to happen you’ll have to know-”
“I got it,” Matsuoka says, already moving from the kitchen counter to the living room, “Go ahead.”
They take their respective places on the couch, a comfortable distance away from each other; it’s a little awkward. Nino misses the closeness of last night, but he blinks away those thoughts.
“Okay,” Nino begins, “I’m not crazy, just so you know. It’s an important disclaimer, and one that you have to believe in whole-heartedly. This is not a joke, alright?”
Matsuoka considers staring at him in bewilderment and outright laughing, but there’s a certain light, unwavering and strong, in Nino’s eyes that informs his that, no, that may not be such a good idea. He nods and gestures for Nino to proceed.
It takes Nino all of ten minutes to explain every single thing, no matter how unbelievable, to his housemate. To his credit, Matsuoka doesn’t interrupt or claim disbelief at any one point, instead sitting through it like it’s some everyday conversation.
Nino doesn’t tell him about him inability to stay in this reality or Taichi’s suggestion. Yet.
“I’m done.” Nino stares at Matsuoka nervously, for once too frazzled to be bothered about appearances and concealment.
Matsuoka doesn’t make a sound. He’s thinking, Nino reassures himself, give him some time and space. Since when has he become such an optimist?
Matsuoka’s gaze is still fixed on the air beside Nino’s body like the way it has been since Nino had concluded his fantastical story. Nino’s newfound confidence disappears as fast as it had come.
“Well,” Matsuoka says abruptly, “You do know that any explanation you may have given me would have been accepted, anyway. I waited eleven years for an answer. It makes for lots of desperation and random theories which are even more out-there than yours.” He’s still not looking at Nino.
“To put it simply, okay.” Matsuoka finally looks at Nino, and is that fear Nino sees? “But how does this story end? You haven’t told me.”
Nino echoes, “End?” But he knows perfectly well what Matsuoka is referring to.
Well, then.
“I can’t stay here. Earth in your reality will be wiped out. You will be eliminated. In the blink of an eye. That’s what an apocalypse is.”
“Figures,” Matsuoka says, “so it’s not the 2012 apocalypse that’s gonna get us all, huh.”
“No, it isn’t,” Nino agrees, playing along and answering meaninglessly because it’s difficult to say the next part. “So I have about one and a half months left. But, like I said, I’m not going to just disappear again.” It’s a selfish thing to say, because the burden of decision is not his to carry, but Nino thinks that there’s no way this is ever going to work out without some selfishness.
“How?” Matsuoka stares at him incredulously. “Or is that your way of saying you will return to your reality but not without at least a goodbye? Because, you know, that helps…”
Nino shifts closer to him, although he really knows that he shouldn’t, because it’s playing dirty, but he does it anyway. He tugs at Matsuoka’s bermudas lightly and slowly traces the vertical lines running down it; the parallel lines are eerily similar to the parallel axes of time across the different realities, moving forward relentlessly and solitarily. Nino curses the day he had ever learnt about parallel lines. What had his teacher said, so many years ago? Parallel lines will never meet.
“Parallel lines will never meet,” Nino blurts out, “and we are living in parallel axes. But here I am anyway, talking to you, touching you, and just being here. I’m real, Matsuoka.”
“…I know,” Matsuoka says in a tiny voice that tugs at Nino’s heart, “but for how much longer?” He places a hand over Nino’s wandering one almost as if to verify Nino’s materiality, his physical presence; it breaks Nino’s heart a little but he lets Matsuoka do it, allows him any amount of time he may need to fully come to terms with the fact that Nino is here and not the ghost of eleven years ago. Matsuoka has earned it after so long.
And then Nino straightens up, looks at Matsuoka with all the honesty he has to offer, clear as day, no longer the enigma that haunts the latter’s dreams, and hopes that this will be enough for Matsuoka. That Nino without a shroud of mystery is no less than enigmatic, disappearing Nino.
“There is only one solution,” Nino says, voice surprisingly strong, “but it comes at a price.”
Matsuoka looks at him doubtfully, but Nino can see tendrils of hope dance across his irises.
“You can come to live with me in my reality without killing either of our realities, but you will lose all of your memories.”
Matsuoka lets go of Nino’s hand and stares at him, dumbfounded. “What makes you think that that’s only one sacrifice? Leaving behind everything I know and love in this reality is no less of a sacrifice than losing my memories, you know.”
Nino wavers in his confidence and he slumps a little; perhaps he is more selfish than he had regarded himself to be. There really is no reason to Matsuoka to give up so much, after all.
Matsuoka sighs and leans back sideways against the couch backing; there’s just never a perfect solution to anything at all. Although – curse Nino and his idea – images of his current reality, of friends and places, are already starting to grey around the edges like an old, forgotten photograph of bygone times.
“I have technically only known you for two months,” Matsuoka says while staring up at the ceiling. White is an artificial color, he decides; nothing is ever only white or black. “A month and a half, and two weeks in the past.”
“No,” Nino insists, “For eleven years.”
Matsuoka laughs hollowly. “It wasn’t eleven years to you, was it? You flew across realities. You’ve only known me for a couple of months, tops.”
It’s true. Nino has nothing to say to that. Absolute time complicates matters, because how can he feel so much for someone he’s only known for such a short time? How can brief glimpses make up a lifetime?
Matsuoka closes his eyes and visualizes colors, individual but susceptible to blending, to mixing. He shuts out the image of the overwhelming brownish-grey that results from uniformity. “Each reality is distinct and separate. That’s why I can’t move to yours seamlessly, right?”
Nino almost corrects him, tells him that it’s a matter of science and technology, but realizes last minute that Matsuoka is correct. No theory of science can fuse two realities together. No amount of studying can make two parallels meet. So he says yes,, and leaves it at that, because, really, who can argue with the truth?
“And you’re not afraid of that? Of the consequences?”
Nino looks at him, confused. “Consequences?”
“If I’m not meant to be there, then I’m not. Losing my memories may not be the only consequence. It’s just a known consequence, that’s all.”
Nino forces himself to picture a future in which they are not linked in any way, in which, for some reason or another, their paths no longer cross or even meet. It’s a painful thought; he shoves it out of range. “You don’t know that,” he argues, “I refuse to be afraid of consequences that are merely imagined. What happens after that is entirely up to us.”
“Not fate?”
“Not fate,” Nino affirms, “or even if it is, I’ll make sure it’s in our favor. If you managed it, then I can, too.”
That earns him a chuckle from Matsuoka, who finally tears his eyes away from the stark white of the ceiling to focus on Nino, who is a multitude of colors, each one individual but also a result of careful blending and creation. “I’m not sure you can,” he comments.
“I have enough confidence for both of us so stop worrying about it. You’re being annoying.” But Matsuoka is no longer listening because he has closed the distance between them in a single, fluid movement; his face hovers right above Nino’s, the unified beat of their hearts drowning out every other sound in the apartment; but he’s not quite kissing him.
“…What are you doing?” Nino whispers. It suddenly feels really hot in the room, and Nino wonders if he were to reach out to trail his fingertips over Matsuoka’s face, will the latter burst into flames of impossibility, of impenetrability?
“Looking into your eyes,” Matsuoka answers, but for once Nino doesn’t find it cheesy and nor does Matsuoka blush from embarrassment like he always does, like they always do. They stay like this for a couple of seconds, close but not quite touching, with Nino content to offer up every truth he has ever known for inspection, for absorption. The gulf of eleven years is a difficult one to close, but Nino feels a little closer with each second that passes.
“And then,” Matsuoka breathes, but doesn’t continue. It’s his lips on Nino before the latter can even react, can even register what’s happening because why does he always kiss so suddenly?? But it’s not abrupt at all, because Nino will never be able to register the frames of motion that bring them together physically, close and almost impossible, so he gives up and closes his eyes, surrenders to sweet vulnerability without so much as a struggle.
“You know what?” Matsuoka whispers around Nino’s lips and, god, it feels so hot, “I think I’m gay after all.” Nino concentrates on not jabbing the other man in the stomach for that ridiculous revelation (because what is he, dense?), on the way Matsuoka is trailing fingers down his neck, smooth and subtly seductive; Nino shudders (and it’s got nothing to do with atmospheric temperature) and drowns, intoxicated, in the lingering scent of aftershave and feather-light touches.
He can practically feel Matsuoka’s nervousness despite the latter’s ministrations; Nino reaches up to tangle himself in Matsuoka’s hair, to root him right here in the present where nothing else matters much. It’s a subtle act but Matsuoka seems to calm down somewhat, or perhaps it’s simply too difficult to doubt and rationalize when there’s tongues and lips and hands and just everything going on; Nino grins into the kiss at that thought, and he bites down lightly on his partner’s lip, teasing and playful.
“What was that for?” Matsuoka asks, but doesn’t detach himself from where he is close to leaning on Nino. He does, however, move slightly backwards to have a better look at Nino.
“I was just wondering,” Nino replies with renewed nervousness, “if that meant yes.”
“One big event too many.” Matsuoka scratches his head idly and leans back on his knees. “I’m still coming to terms with not being as straight as I want to be. Might take a few days.” He says this with a face of impeccable seriousness, and Nino scowls and considers recommending Matsuoka to enter the entertainment business.
“Doesn’t answer my question.”
“You left me hanging for eleven years,” Matsuoka says with a dazzling smile (that Nino wants to physically wipe off), “A few days in return is hardly anything.”
Nino pouts and retrieves his DS from the table.
*****
2. 1987
“Hello there, little boy. You feeling alright?”
The little boy gapes, open-mouthed, at the stranger who had randomly appeared from nowhere a couple of seconds ago; he rubs his eyes furiously but nothing happens. The stranger is still there, on his knees and at eye-level, smiling at him kindly.
“Eh?”
The stranger reaches out to ruffle his hair; the boy doesn’t move away. It’s kind of scary but also really fascinating, although he doesn’t exactly understand what’s going on.
The stranger looks at him curiously. “You’re not going to cry? Shout for your mummy?” He hastily adds, “Or someone else?”
“Mummy busy,” the boy replies, his voice high-pitched and extremely adorable, “She says crying is for naughty little boys.”
The stranger moves closer to him and asks, “And you’re a good boy?”
The little boy grins proudly and nods. “I’m a good boy!”
The stranger smiles and returns the nod. “Then you must always be a good boy, okay? Matsuoka-kun will always be a good boy.”
It doesn’t occur to the little boy that random strangers shouldn’t know his name. Then again, he barely questioned the peculiarity of the stranger’s appearance. “Play with me?” the little boy suggests. He sits down and pushes the cloth five stones towards the stranger tentatively. There’s always a chance that he may not want to play, just like how mummy and daddy are always too busy to play with him, too.
The stranger bites his lips and appears a little conflicted; the little boy notices none of this. He sits and waits patiently, already telling himself that he won’t be disappointed if they can’t play together. It’s alright, surely.
“I can’t,” the stranger begins, and the little boy automatically smiles because mummy says that the best way to not cry is to do the opposite, which is to smile.
“But give me one of your five stones, okay? I can’t play with you here, but I want to remember you.”
Remember. The little boy thinks that he has heard that word before. It has a lovely ring to it, like church bells on a lazy day. He blinks and nods, slightly unsure but happy nonetheless. “Okay!” he says bravely, because he isn’t sure if they have enough money to afford him another set of five stones, but he wants to give it to the stranger anyway. That way, he will remember him. “I want to remember you too!” he exclaims.
The stranger reaches for the little boy’s hand in answer, placing his small palm in his own larger one. “I will trace something invisible here. It’s the kanji for friendship. Only you will ever know about it, okay?”
The little boy echoes, “Invisible?” But he knows what friendship means. It gives him a warm and fuzzy feeling, like when he goes over to his neighbor’s to play with their little boy of four and they have a great time together. It’s the best gift ever, so when the stranger seems done with the invisible friendship he placed onto his palm, the little boy rushes forward to hug him in gratitude. “Thank you,” he says happily, “I like friendship! I like you!”
The stranger disappears halfway through the hug, but the little boy isn’t too fazed by that. Normal people seem to appear and exit at various points pretty quickly too, just perhaps not as instantaneous as the stranger had been.
He looks down at his palm and tries his best to re-trace what the stranger had written while thinking of what the latter had said right before he had vanished.
The little boy smiles and skips back towards his house; “I’ll always be your friend, too.”
*****
9. 2013
Two days after Nino regains his memories, Matsuoka disappears.
He wakes up to an empty bed (they had somehow managed to come up with reasons for sleeping together at night each time) and a note on the bedside table. I’ll be back, it had said, and Nino had sighed but chosen to believe in him anyway. There’s nothing much else he can do.
On the third day of his disappearance, there’s a knock on the door and Nino spends five futile minutes trying to explain that, no, there’s no reason for movers to be here because the house isn’t being sold, so why can’t you understand that?
Just as he is about to dial for someone – the police, his errant housemate, or even Nagase – Matsuoka abruptly appears through the door, looking pretty much the same save for his new unshaven look. He smiles and asks the movers whether he can help while Nino remains rooted at his spot near the kitchen, watching the whole scene unfold with half a million questions buzzing around in his head.
“Come help,” Matsuoka says as he picks up a piece of furniture near the kitchen. “I’m paying by the hour.”
“Excuse me, but I don’t really understand what’s happening,” Nino says sharply. “And hello to you too. It’s been a great three days.”
“I’m sorry,” Matsuoka says apologetically, and actually has the gall to peck Nino on the cheek despite having a whole lot of strangers in his house.
Nino demands, slightly flustered but still very much annoyed, “Did you go do something to permanently disable you from blushing?”
“No,” Matsuoka says simply, “I’m kissing you because that’s the way it is.”
“Oh, and,” he adds with a smirk, “I think you inherited my blush.”
Nino punches him in the shoulder and turns away. “I’m not your son, you retard. I inherited nothing from you.” But he starts to move (as slow as is possible) around the house to help whenever is possible (but accepting rejections readily); he figures that Matsuoka will tell him when he’s ready.”
“So?” Nino demands as soon as the movers are out of the house, “What is this all about?”
“You’re like my wife,” Matsuoka says affectionately while ruffling through Nino’s hair.
“I’m not your-” But he never gets to finish, because Matsuoka has him in a fierce hug, strong arms surrounding his small frame with relative ease and fit. “I missed you,” he says simply.
Nino thinks that he may have been right about the inheriting thing. “Shut up,” he says without malice, “where have you been?”
Matsuoka lets go of Nino and gestures at nothing in particular. “This is your answer.”
“Okay, I get it, I get it. I baffled you for eleven years. But can you please not do that to me?” Nino presents Matsuoka with his best and most adorable pout (that he learned from Aiba – not that he’s ever admitting it) and prays its current and cumulative hit rate of 100% (excepting Taichi – that man has a heart made of stone, really) will not fail him now. Matsuoka rolls his eyes. Nino’s pout feels threatened, just a little.
“You’re going to baffle me for more years to come, Nino. I think that this is only fair, don’t you?”
“…Is that what I think it is?”
“That’s somewhat cryptic,” Matsuoka replies.
“Then it is,” Nino says, and actually leaps onto Matsuoka, who only barely manages not to stumble backwards; the latter thwacks him on the head, hard, but Nino responds with laughter, too ecstatic to care about anything else now. “You’re coming with me!” he yells excitedly, instantly reverting to the five year old he never was. Matsuoka sighs and steers them both towards the living room where he can deposit Nino on his favorite couch.
“Yes I am,” Matsuoka says, “Although I nearly had my head torn off by Nagase. That man is insane.”
Nino looks at him curiously. “What explanation did you give?”
“That I’m going away to, uh, find a new me. And that that place won’t have connections whatsoever.”
“Find a new you,” Nino repeats incredulously, “and he accepted it.”
“Nagase is a man with a big heart and slightly smaller brains,” Matsuoka says fondly. He’s going to miss his slightly air-headed business partner.
“So he’s going to manage the car repair workshop on his own?”
“He is surprisingly good at such stuff, despite being less adequate in other areas.” Matsuoka is always so kind with his words.
“…I see. And so this whole house thing…surely you know that we can’t bring furniture over…”
“I know that,” Matsuoka scowls, “I’m not Nagase. I’ve sold all of it, actually. All proceeds go towards the relevant people.” Nino doesn’t ask about who these relevant people are.
“And the house?”
“Sold.”
“That’s fast.”
Matsuoka grins hugely. With teeth. “I’m an excellent sweet-talker.”
Nino scoffs at that. “When you’re not blushing, that is.”
Matsuoka doesn’t take offense. “You inherited that,” he replies merrily.
“Did not.”
“Did too.”
“Did not.”
“Did too.”
“DID NOT.”
“DID TOO.”
“…DID YOU SELL THE GAMES AS WELL.”
Matsuoka blinks at him. “Well, duh. We can practically go over to your reality now, right? Why do I need all these around for?”
“…Oh.”
“You’re blushing.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“NO.”
“YES.”
“SHUT UP ALREADY.”
“YOU’RE STUCK WITH ME FOREVER.”
That shuts Nino up.
*****
0. 2013
The first thing he sees when he comes to is a shadow at the window. Or a person who looks like a shadow, because his outline is black against the blazing sun. He looks almost unreal.
But, the man discovers, that is not true. The shadow by the window moves and turns around and he is suddenly no longer a shadow; what had been darkness and a yawning black previously gives way to a burst of colors, humane and warm.
“You’re awake!” The window person says excitedly. He’s in a yellow tee-shirt and knee-length shorts, and the man can’t help but smile at that sight; he doesn’t know why, seeing as his brain seems to be a huge, white blank right now, but it feels right. Something feels right, so he smiles despite lying down in what seems to be a hospital bed.
There’s a straw and a cup of water next to him before he can even open his mouth to ask for it; the man drinks from it gratefully, but realizes with a grimace that he can feel nothing but pain in his right arm.
[[Rewind: 0. 2013, 1 day ago.
“HOLY FUCK TAICHI, WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?!”
Taichi turns to look at his newly-returned colleague, completely unfazed by formidable anger. “This will make it seem more real. The plan is to let him think that he was in an accident, right? You can’t be in one without sustaining an injury.”
Nino narrows his eyes. Aiba scuttles away quickly from danger zone. “But you didn’t have to breakthud is heard from the collision of head and ground. Nino’s left eye twitches violently.
“Alright, folks! What are we waiting for?” Taichi claps his hands and smiles with maximum teeth showing. “Let’s get this amnesiac dude to the hospital! Be careful with the broken arm~”
Nino clutches his head and lets out a low, anguished moan.]]
“By the way,” the window person says, “I’m Ninomiya Kazunari. Oh, but, er, do you remember anything? As in, are your memories intact? Um.” He seems flustered, and the man doesn’t quite get what’s happening, but he tries to recall something anyway.
He draws a blank.
“Don’t worry,” the man named Ninomiya says quickly, “It’s alright. You just have amnesia, that’s all. Your name is-”
“Matsuoka. Matsuoka Masahiro, right?”
Nino stares at him in shock. “You…can remember that?”
“And nothing else,” Matsuoka says mournfully. He feels like a stranger in his own mind, which is an endless white of nothingness.
“Doesn’t matter, Matsuoka. It’ll be alright.” Matsuoka wants to ask him what the hell that means, how can it be alright when he recalls nothing?
“I’m Nino. We’re friends, and I’ll take care of you.”
“…No, we’re not really friends, are we.” Matsuoka doesn’t know why he said that, but he doesn’t question it. Nothing’s making sense anyway.
“Not exactly,” Nino admits, but he looks far from discouraged. “It’s strange of me to say this, but just stick with me and we’ll work out something together.”
Matsuoka narrows his eyes at his supposed new friend. “You’re responsible for the state I’m in, aren’t you.”
Nino smiles sheepishly. “Kind of?”
Matsuoka sighs and closes his eyes; he expects to see nothing but white, which seems to be the new color of despair, but instead he sees spots of yellow, not quite the sun but equally dazzling, and he follows them curiously down a never-ending path.
“Stay with me?” Nino suggests. Matsuoka opens one eye and sees that Nino is wearing yellow. Huh.
“…I guess?” Matsuoka shrugs; perhaps he himself is some kind of hobo with no actual house or anything like that. It’s probably better to accept some help for now.
“Great! Oh and, Matsuoka?”
“Hmm?”
“You’ll never be alone. Let’s shake on that.”
He doesn’t completely get what his new (and really strange) friend is saying, but Matsuoka supposes that he can shake on this, on the start to a new and confusing life, on the start of a new friendship (whether or not Nino had been the cause of his amnesia and broken arm), so he takes the extended hand in his right (and non-painful) one and nods once to indicate acceptance and appreciation.
Later that night, after Nino (and a bubbly guy named Aiba, as well as a somewhat ferocious but interesting guy named Taichi) leaves, Matsuoka falls into a deep slumber. He dreams of odd things like lines and shapes, and houses and cars, but most of all he dreams of color, beautifully unique but never alone, each one borne from a myriad of others still.
*****
1. 1985
Nino looks at the baby/toddler in front of him curiously. “Are you Matsuoka Masahiro? Hmm?” The toddler makes a little sound. It sounds neither like a yes nor a no.
Nino chuckles and pats him on his head gently. “You probably are, huh. That’s cute. Still a baby. But where is this place…”
Nino stands up and dusts non-existent dust off himself and looks around; it’d be slightly troublesome to show up unannounced in someone’s house, really. Even if he is only going to be here for a couple of minutes. The first and only rule to reality travelling is: don’t die. Nino plans on abiding that.
With a start, he realizes that there are several other cots in the room. What a big family, he thinks.
Someone walks in. Nino prepares to hide, but it’s somewhat too late. “Hello there!” the lady says brightly, leaving Nino extremely puzzled at her welcoming attitude. “Are you here to visit or to adopt?”
Adopt? “Um,” Nino mumbles, “to…visit. Just taking a look.”
“Ah, I see. That’s Matsuoka-kun right there, the one you’re in front of. How adorable, right? He just spoke his first word the other day!”
Nino forces out a strained smile. “Ah, is that so?”
“Yes! Sadly, though, we didn’t have a recorder on hand. Ah, I must be disturbing you! Please take your time with the babies. I will be right outside.”
Nino nods and watches her go, the queasy feeling in his stomach refusing to dissipate. He wonders which Matsuoka he meets will start his life like this, and which will have a normal beginning; he thinks that it may be that some events of a person’s life are unchanging even across realities.
Nino turns back towards the baby with puffy cheeks and huge, inquisitive eyes. He has about a minute left. Nino bends down and holds the baby’s hand in his; it’s tiny, so much smaller than his, but Nino knows that he will grow up into a fine young man. He has to.
“Hey,” Nino whispers, and the baby responds by locking gazes with him, young eyes still untainted by knowledge, untouched by harshness. “You’ll be fine, okay? I’m going to see you another nine times, and you’re going to be just fine. Gonna grow up into a fine young man.” Nino means it. He doesn’t know it, but it’s never a bad thing to believe, however little faith he usually possesses.
The baby looks slightly confused, but smiles and giggles at Nino happily, his laughter clear and melodious. It’s the last thing Nino sees before he vanishes for the first time, finally clear on why he wants to be on this mission, on what’s worth saving in realities so far away, parallel to each other but nevertheless connected by invisible bonds of friendship and love.
*****
A/N: THE END. I hope that I managed to deliver in some way or another, even though I was quite clueless for this pairing and characterization was just so damn hard, oh my god. I know you asked for lots of romance and touching, but I couldn’t elude sci-fi no matter how I hard I tried and how many drafts I abandoned (okay, just one – but it was 10,000 words! Then I couldn’t continue.) sooooooo…
So, that was not really an explanation. But okay. Let me end my rambling here. Thank you for requesting & for reading <3
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“I’ll just charm it off other people.”
“…Prostitution?!”
XDDD Interactions between Nino and Matsuoka are super great! They happen so fast and so witty, because both of them are far too talkative for their own good! All their banters are hilarious, honestly.
“Nino,” he says exasperatedly, “Either my cooking sucks that much, which it doesn’t, or you’re trying your best to drive me crazy.”
“You’ve seen me eat. It’s normal,” Nino replies defensively.
“The hospital is different! I thought you never finished your food because it was too bland.”
“Nope. It’s because I was full.”
Nino and his small belly!! LOL. I feel you, Matsu-nii!
“Nino? Did you just remember something?”
Nino had figured that regaining his memory would be a slow and painful process, something along the lines of getting splitting headaches with each fragment or spending time walking around in hope of triggers. He hadn’t quite counted on it feeling like the unblocking of a blocked ear; fast, sudden, and unexpected. And painless, even.
“More like everything.”
Ugh. This is so great. The way you make Nino remembers everything so suddenly and so easily feels really realistic! The phrase 'unblocking the blocked ear' makes me chuckled a little bit, but it's a good way to describe it!
Matsuoka gulps and starts styling his hair haphazardly, lack of gel be damned.
LOL!
“You there? Don’t start crying yet, alright?”
“I’m here,” Nino snaps affectionately (contradiction being a particularly unique trait of his), “and I’m not that weak. Surely your little report isn’t over.”
“I’m not sure how Matsuoka stands your brattiness,” Taichi remarks airily. Nino’s memories start to rearrange themselves once again, and he finds himself missing the sharp-tongued, playful colleague and long-time friend of his. But they aren’t quite at the front, not just yet. Perhaps not ever.
“He’s great,” Nino replies without a trace of his usual sarcasm that accompanies positive comments, “and so are you.”
Ah, Nino and Taichi friendship are so great and on-spot. We definitely need more of this pairing in fic too!!
I've really enjoyed all the other pairings aside from Nino/Matsuoka. I love your Nino/Aiba and how Aiba cries when he learns that Nino was hit by a car and stuck in the wrong reality, and how he immediately snaps out of it to get Nino back. I love your Taichi and how he secretly adores this Nino even with all their 'fights' and how he's the one who actually works out how he can make everything right for Nino. I love your Ohno, and your 'We’ve checked, double-checked, triple-checked, and he doesn’t exist in reality nine!' and how easily he accepts the situation, I love your Nagase/Matsuoka friendship and how they are partners and every descriptions Matsuoka has for Nagase!
I just love your concept of multiple realities and butterfly effects and how they are 'the pioneers' in the business and how Nino needs to meet multiple Matsuokas, always with a different age and with a different length of time, to prevent an apocalypse. It's true that sometimes simple things can change the whole situation, and I'm glad you decided on that idea instead of trying to save the world or being a king etc etc. I love how you ended up the fic in reversed situation from the beginning. I like the complexity, and, contradictory, the simplicity of this AU. It's a well-made story, anon, and although it's sad to see Matsuoka loses his memory at the end, I'm happy you picked up my prompt that not all stories need to have ~the happy endings~
Thank you for this great story, I've truly enjoyed reading it! :))
no subject
I didn't know I'd be able to ship Nino with Matsuoka till this fic. You are a great writer, making me squeal, and cry, and just hope for the best for them.
The whole parallel realities concept, Nino meeting Matsuoka at different times, and how they fall for each other. How Nino changed from being the one who gives blushes to the one who blushes. How come they're so adorable?
Thank you for challenging this pair and writing this fic :)
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This was great fun! I'm glad they were able to be together in the end
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Thank you for sharing!! It was such a delight to read. ♥