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ninoexchange2014-06-21 08:19 pm
nino-mod.livejournal.com) wrote in ninoexchange2014-06-21 08:19 pm
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fic for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
satsumatsu
For: satsumatsu
From:alternatejess
Title: count for me.
Pairing/Focus: Ninomiya Kazunari/Matsumoto Jun
Rating: PG
Warnings: Timelines, what timelines? Plot, what plot?
Summary: Fate is what we have, what it may or may not be.
Notes: To my idea bouncer and eternal encourager, thank you. To the lifesaver who gave me this idea, thank you. Lastly to my beta, thanks for looking through it! Forsatsumatsu, I’ve always been a fan of your fics, so here’s a modest little something from me which I hope you will like. :)
(0)
Jun is putting flowers on a friend’s grave when he notices an elderly couple walking towards the tombstone next to him. Out of curiosity, he leans over to read the name.
Ninomiya Kazunari
for a life never lived.
(10)
The champagne glasses click against the backdrop of pretentious piano music and Nino’s mother lets out a fake giggle to something the other man has been saying. From where ten year old Nino is standing, the carpet is bright red, his mother’s dress is a nice shade of deep blue and his nose itches from the scent of too much perfume gathering in the same place. He slouches a little and his mother’s palm immediately reaches to his back and pats him, signalling him to straighten up. He does, but not without letting out a slight pout. Too many people, he grumbles to himself. His mother doesn’t seem to hear his thoughts though, more focused on taking one more sip of the yellow liquid that is swirling in the glass.
Nino wriggles his small hand out from her hold and sneaks to the far corner. There is another boy (he can’t be any older than me, Nino thinks to himself) standing against the wall of the ballroom. The first thing he notices is how his fringe stops just before his eyes. The second thing he notices is how deep set his features are. The third thing he notices is that the other boy is examining Nino from head to toe before his eyebrows raise in recognition.
“Mother says that I shouldn’t talk to you,” he says, fingers trying to loosen his tie.
“Matsumoto,” Nino calls out, unbuttoning his restrictive tuxedo jacket, “my mother said the same thing.”
“Let’s be friends.”
Jun nods and grabs Nino’s wrist, “The exit to the party is that way.”
(4)
Nino hops off the train at Yokohama station one hot summer afternoon, coughing from the train smoke and jumping a little at the horn that signals the train’s departure. Taking his eyes off the crowded station, he rummages through his belongings for his fan when he knocks into a man in complete Western dress, looking as though he is a diplomat going for a party at the Rokumeikan.
Nino’s belongings scatter all over from the impact and he bends down to try to pick them up - holding his yukata up with one hand so that it will not get in the way. The other man appears to have an easier time bending down and uses his white handkerchief with the initials M.J to pick up the woodblocks that Nino has to sell, as well as the kimono that Nino has been tasked to pass to a distant aunt.
Their shoulders brush as they move on in opposite directions.
(17)
Balancing the Nikon camera in his small hands, Nino looks through the viewfinder to find Jun - or Matsujun as they all call him - staring right back at him. He clicks the shutter. The flash is bright but Jun doesn’t blink as he adjusts his pose for another picture. The lead photographer then asks for a lighting adjustment, a stronger fan and a set alteration. Nino takes the chance to change his lens while the makeup artists fusses over the perspiration on Jun’s face.
New settings in place, he clicks the shutter a couple more times before the lead photographer calls it a day. He surrenders the photos obediently to his boss, secretly saving some of the photos in his own memory card before leaving alone through the barely lit corridor. The other photographers and the rest of the staff apparently want to have some drinks with their favourite model.
Nino grimaces at the thought. What’s so charming about Jun anyway? Maybe he might be pretty at every angle? But. His skin is not perfect, he could be taller, he’s lean instead of muscular like the ideal man should be. It’s not like he is that charming anyway. Maybe sometimes he does want to take a second glance at Jun but that’s about all. He bitches to himself about all the stupid people who are cheated by Jun’s not-so-good physical appearance. Wait till they know what a douchebag he is inside.
When he finally reaches home, Nino throws on a random oversized t-shirt lying on the floor with a pair of old faded pants that is sitting on the dining table and promptly collapses on the sofa. He pulls the laptop towards himself and inserts the memory card into it to admire his work for the day (strictly for professional purposes! he tells himself) when the door opens and he hastily shuts his laptop.
The man from the photos is holding two dozens of beer in one hand and a full pack of gyoza in the other.
“Supper?”
(3)
Junko pats white powder on Kazue’s face and neck before tinting her lips a bright red. She tilts her fellow maiko’s head sidewards to put ribbons, silk flowers and other ornaments in her hair while Kazue whines - she always does - complaining that she wants to be a geisha soon. Then, she can do away with the excessive hair accessories and opt for a darker kimono shade.
Jun snorts back, already completely dressed in a light purple kimono with bright pink peonies all around the fabric. She pushes a dangly hair pin into Kazu’s hair and adjusts it into place, ignoring her wincing and protesting about how uncomfortable it is. When she is finally satisfied with Kazue’s hair, she stands up and pulls her fellow maiko up with her to dress her in a light yellow kimono . For a moment, she can’t resist but to wrap her arms around her waist briefly, and Kazue leans in.
They eventually untangle, helping each other smoothen out their kimonos as they leave, getas skimming against the pavement as they go to the first teahouse for the day.
(15)
“They should have gotten another ten thousand yen with the diamonds they traded in,” Jun comments, leaning over the counter to adjust the air conditioning.
“Oh, come on, I did them a service by giving them loose change instead of big notes,” Nino replies, locking the drawer with the precious gems and reverting the air conditioning back to the previous temperature.
“You are cheating them out of their money.” An accusing finger. Another adjustment of the air conditioner.
“Commission, J, Commission.” Nino replies, pushing Jun’s hand away from the control.
“How is ten thousand yen commission?”
“Well, they didn’t realize it,” Nino says, one hand grabbing onto Jun’s wrist and the other's fingers flipping through a stack of one thousand yen notes.
(8)
Nino parts the purple curtains of Matsumoto Ramen stand and sits down on the wooden stool farthest away from where the owner is.
He order a shoyu ramen and tugs his legs under himself as he reaches for a tissue and a pen that is running out of ink from the breast pocket of his ill fitted linen shirt. He tries writing a few lines, then strikes them off before throwing the crumpled piece of tissue onto the ground, unhappy with the result.
Instead he chooses to slouch forward to focus on how the sweat beads accumulate at the edges of the owner’s bandana and how they drip effortlessly from his forehead. Nino lets himself get distracted by how the other man subconsciously uses the back of his left hand to quickly wipe the perspiration away as he drains the noodles with his right. The owner then puts the cooked ramen with the broth in the bowl, taking extra care to make sure that the meat fans out perfectly before topping the noodles with seaweed. Wiping his hands on the apron tied around his hips, he serves the bowl of hot brimming noodles to Nino with a light bow, beaming brightly at his achievement.
Nino mumbles a thanks as he digs in - dipping his spoon into the soup when he notices the owner’s line of vision narrowing onto him. Nino looks up, wondering if there was something wrong. Right.
He is going to make a comment about me being left-handed, Nino thinks, squaring his face to make sure he can hide his distaste.
“Cute,” he says instead.
“Eh?”
“Nothing.” he replies, returning to prepare more food.
“Does that mean I get free refills?”
(9)
Jun first meets him at a lounge. He is there alone, drinking from the couch seat that is the farthest away from the stage and half hidden by the darkness. The other him is in a white shirt that is too big on him with pants that are too long for his height. Then again, the grand piano covers more than half his stature so it doesn’t really matter.
What does matter is how he tries to sit up straight and run his fingers through the black and white keys of the instrument, moving his whole body to reach the notes farther away. Jun swirls the ice in his whisky glass as he watches how the pianist’s shoulders jerk when he uses his strength and how his feet barely touch the pedals. Despite his best efforts, Jun thinks amusingly, he is still slightly slouching.
No one really cares about the pianist, Nino later tells him.
I’m no one then, Jun retorts, leaving his glass on the piano and throwing his jacket over Nino's shoulders before joining the smaller man on the seat that is tearing apart at the seams from age and use.
Nino pulls his knees towards himself and hugs them while leaning his head on Jun’s shoulder, taking in the smell of his expensive cologne mixed with the tobacco that he has just finished. Jun reaches for his glass, drinks a little and then places the glass on Nino’s lips. Nino lets his palms cup Jun’s as he sips.
“I’ve got work to do.”
“I’ve got a wife to go home to.”
(13)
“Juuunnnooosukkee, what are we having for dinner tonight?” Nino walks through the genkan , kicks his shoes haphazardly to the side and proceeds to spread himself onto the tatami floor, nose taking in the scents that are coming out of the kitchen.
“Rice with fish and miso soup.”
“But I want pork instead!”
“We are having fish today.”
“Hamburger steak!”
“Fish.”
“Chicken!”
There are two seconds of silence before Nino can hear the distinct sound of Jun turning the gas stove off. He closes his eyes, very aware of what is going to happen next - would he use today's papers or yesterday's? The next thing he hears is Jun stomping out of the kitchen and the expected sound of paper being rolled up. Nino braces himself for the impact.
“Just eat whatever I cook.”
He pulls Jun down by his shirt and kisses him instead.
(19)
Jun has his gun pointing at Nino’s chest - right where the heart beats. Count it, he says, count your last heartbeats. Nino stares at him - defiantly - “I won’t be able to count because I’ve so many more heartbeats left.”
Jun laughs, tracing Nino’s heart with the barrel of his gun, “You’re an interesting one.”
“Have you felt the poison in your blood yet?”
He shoots.
“Have you felt the bullet in your heart yet?”
(1)
Nino runs through the courtyard, lamp in hand and his coat getting trapped in between his legs as he runs. Stupid clothes, why do I have to wear so many layers, he grumbles inwardly. His lacquered hat starts to tilt and threatens to fall so he has to support it with his other hand, putting the letter inside his sleeve as he speeds up.
He pants when he reaches the door, letter in hand when she walks by - her long black hair touching her waist and the deep purple train dragging across the floor as she takes every single graceful, controlled step. She stops briefly to adjust her outer coat as it falls off her shoulder and Nino can only stare at the layers of lavender and white silk underneath it. She seems to have noticed him, turning in his direction to smile at him in acknowledgement before her attendant catches her up from the back.
“Lady Matsumoto! Why are you going out so late in the night?”
“It’s a beautiful night, Masako,” she replies, brushing the stray hair strands away from her face.
“You could have at least told me!” her attendant exclaims, bending over to catch her breath, “If anything happens to my Lady, my Lord will kill me!”
Lady Matsumoto smiles indulgently back and Masako makes various comments about how this is not funny and how she will really be dead if the Lady is hurt in anyway. It is then that Nino notices that the Lady is staring at him from the corner of her eye. That knowledge makes him quickly tilt his head downwards and tightly clutch the lamp in his hand.
“I have an urgent message for the Lord,” Nino begins - is he stammering?
“Give it to Masako,” she tells him, and he does, trying not to stare as he passes the letter to the attendant but he can’t resist, so he looks up slightly, only to be mesmerized by the red of her lips. Lady Matsumoto’s gaze turn to him - she knows! - and Nino panics. He looks down again to focus on his feet only to be distracted by how the fabric so effortless crinkles at the Lady’s feet.
Lady Matsumoto and her attendant eventually move on, but Nino remains in his position for a long time, remembering how the glorious purple fades into the night.
She never once looked back.
He never once forgot.
(6)
Jun gets off the horse carriage in front of Ninomiya Tailors and walks right through the entrance. He announces his intention to get a suit done for his sister’s wedding and the tailor, Ninomiya (judging from the name of the store) grunts, half a cigarette still in his mouth as he reaches for a measuring tape and his rice paper notebook to scribble down the numbers. He gestures for Jun to come towards him and he follows before being pushed around roughly. Nino measures his shoulder width while biting his cigarette, letting out puffs of smoke before throwing it away onto the floor.
“Raise your hands.”
Jun does but he can’t resist asking, “You look quite young. How long have you been doing this?”
Nino puts the tape around his waist and replies nonchalantly, “Long enough.”
“I like the sort of gold buttons that...” Jun begins.
“Doesn’t suit you,” Nino cuts him off rudely while taking down the length of Jun’s torso.
“I’m the customer here!”
“I make the clothes. If you don’t like it you can get out.”
(14)
“YOU!" Jun slams his palms onto the mahogany table with a loud thud as Nino strolls in casually.
"Good morning?"
"YOU LIAR!" Jun exclaims. "You said you had a brother!"
"You were so cute when you were younger," Nino replies, spinning in the leather office chair.
"We are not hiring a liar," Jun says, knuckles knocking on the tabletop to get his point across. Nino rests his elbows on the table and props his face up with his palms, looking more amused than offended.
"But I like him," Aiba says.
"Mm," Ohno concurs sleepily.
Sho quickly passes Nino the contract to sign and the smaller man quickly puts his name on the paper, a knowing smirk on his face as he directs his gaze towards Jun.
While Jun continues sulking at being outvoted, the other three manage to pry the story from their new coworker. Turns out the two used to attend the same elementary school and Nino, finding Jun gullible and cute (I am not cute) decides to grab a random boy and insists that he is Nino’s brother. Apparently Jun, at the tender age of 10, believed it.
(5)
Kazue walks down the long aisle littered with multicoloured fresh flower petals. What a beautiful bride, what a match made in heaven, they say. She grips tightly to the bouquet of red roses in her hand. She hates roses, she hates white dresses and she hates the uncomfortable high heel shoes she is wearing.
Will he be there? Will he come and rescue me? Even if he doesn’t, I want to see him one last time. I want him to see me one last time.
She finds another him at the end instead - smiling at her like she is the most precious thing in the world and promising to be with her until death does them apart. He puts his heirloom ring on her ring finger and lifts her veil to kiss her gently. She holds on to his arm and fakes a smile as everyone claps.
A little girl nudges the bride and passes her a card.
Have a good married life. - Jun
The church bells ring.
(12)
The hotel is cheap and the bed creaks when Jun pushes Nino onto it. The room is dismally decorated and it stinks of the tobacco and beer from the previous guests. The window is small, but the bright Osakan city lights still shine through, providing them with just enough light to see each other’s bodies. Then again, not seeing might be better.
Jun kisses Nino’s forehead and he brushes his lips with his thumb and kisses down the bridge of his nose. The other man’s tongue escapes, licking greedily at the flesh that is presented to him. Leaving his lips, Jun’s thumb draws a moist line down Nino’s throat to the beginning of his collar bones. Nino then reaches to pull Jun towards himself, hands stretching out to unbutton Jun’s shirt.
“We really shouldn’t be doing this.”
“That was what you said the last time,” Jun replies, kissing Nino on his mouth to shut him up.
Tell me to stop then, I dare you.
His hand moves lower.
I can’t.
(2)
Jun pets his horse and gets off his trusty companion, his glorious fox-fur armour clinking with every step his takes. He removes his headgear when he spots the hut, shaking the sweat out of his hair as he strides towards his destination. Sheathing his sword, he approaches Nino, the lingering scent of blood and red blotches on his breastplate saying more than words ever will.
Jun beams as he hands him the white banner of the defeated genji .
“So, my chief strategist, what do you have in mind for the next battle?”
(16)
Jun wishes there wasn’t the railing between him and the edge of the rooftop of the 80 storey high skyscraper that he works in. The railing, he curses to himself, is such an artificial construct, a man made obstruction to the freedom that is outside. He wishes he could dangle his feet off the edge of the rooftop, feeling the nothingness underneath his feet – it’s as though there are endless possibilities underneath his feet, waiting for him to explore.
He likes high places, he always has. The air is fresher, the scenery is nicer and everything seems to fall into place. He likes staring at the expressways from that height, the pulse of the city leading straight towards the heart of Tokyo. He likes staring at the windows of the nearby buildings – each small window generating millions in revenue. He also likes seeing the roofs of the houses, thinking about what people may be doing in them. A mother cooking? A child playing? Maybe an argument between couples, he laughs to himself.
Glorious, glorious city scape.
Certain days Jun feels useless and the same glorious city scape returns to bite him. There are people with families waiting for them to come home to, there are people in these little windows generating millions of dollars of income.What is he then, a casualty of the dog eat dog world? Just another someone? He doesn’t want to be that someone that people will forget, he wants to be that one that leaves an impression.
“You know, if you want to, you can climb over,” he hears a voice. He smells the faint scent of tobacco.
“I don’t want to be told that by you.”
“Then do it before I say so.”
“And I should do it because you tell me to do so?”
Nino holds the cigarette away from his mouth with his thumb and index finger, letting the slight breeze blow the circles of smoke away.
“It was not your fault. “
“What the fuck do you know?“ Jun lashes out, grabbing the collar of Nino’s shirt and staring into his eyes. “Who the fuck are you?”
Nino puts his hand around Jun’s wrist.
Jun lets go.
“You don’t even know me,“ he scoffs.
“I do. You are Matsumoto Jun and you are the Managing Director of the company I work for.”
(11)
Jun sits on his wooden table and loosens the metallic buttons on his shirt. “Let’s skip school tomorrow.”
“To?” Nino replies, scribbling on the blackboard and letting loose chalk dust drift around the empty classroom.
The next morning, they take their bicycles and ride from their homes to the river. Hastily dumping their bicycles to the wayside, Jun takes off his clothes to plunge in the water while Nino leans against a tree to sit down under its shade while humming lines of a melody that does not fit into any songs. When Jun returns from his swim, he throws his wet self onto Nino, who immediately launches a tickle attack against Jun in revenge. Jun quickly escapes back into the river and Nino follows in vengeance, splashing water from the river at him.
This is how the teacher finds and drags them (dripping wet) to the principal’s office.
(7)
The first time Jun says he loves Nino, he’s muffled by the sounds of the allied bombs in the neighborhood.
The first time Nino says it to Jun is in between rations about how the person he loves shouldn’t starve.
The first time they kiss is under a torn war propaganda poster with a girl in a flowery kimono cheering on men in uniform on fighter jets as they go on their suicide missions.
The last time Nino say I love you is on Jun’s dying bedside and he asks if he regrets anything.
No.
Will you want to do this again?
Yes.
(18)
They are wearing the tour t-shirts that are drenched with their perspiration and stick to their backs. Nino waves to the crowd and makes peace signs at squealing fangirls as Jun empties the bottle of mineral water onto his face and hair, fulfilling his promise of bringing happiness to the crowd of 70,000. He beams as he strides back to centre stage, the band following behind him.
They stand close together, shoulders and arms touching. Nino stares at Jun, who looks back at him, eyes sparkling with happiness as he stretches his hand for Nino to hold. Nino places his hand on Jun’s and they grip each other’s hands tight, raising them in gratitude to the audience.
“And our name is?”
Arashi .
(20)
“Do you remember?”
Nino nods. The light is getting closer.
“Coming along this time?”
“As always.”
Jun reaches out his hand and Nino takes it.
They jump.
satsumatsuFrom:
alternatejessTitle: count for me.
Pairing/Focus: Ninomiya Kazunari/Matsumoto Jun
Rating: PG
Warnings: Timelines, what timelines? Plot, what plot?
Summary: Fate is what we have, what it may or may not be.
Notes: To my idea bouncer and eternal encourager, thank you. To the lifesaver who gave me this idea, thank you. Lastly to my beta, thanks for looking through it! For
satsumatsu, I’ve always been a fan of your fics, so here’s a modest little something from me which I hope you will like. :) (0)
Jun is putting flowers on a friend’s grave when he notices an elderly couple walking towards the tombstone next to him. Out of curiosity, he leans over to read the name.
Ninomiya Kazunari
for a life never lived.
(10)
The champagne glasses click against the backdrop of pretentious piano music and Nino’s mother lets out a fake giggle to something the other man has been saying. From where ten year old Nino is standing, the carpet is bright red, his mother’s dress is a nice shade of deep blue and his nose itches from the scent of too much perfume gathering in the same place. He slouches a little and his mother’s palm immediately reaches to his back and pats him, signalling him to straighten up. He does, but not without letting out a slight pout. Too many people, he grumbles to himself. His mother doesn’t seem to hear his thoughts though, more focused on taking one more sip of the yellow liquid that is swirling in the glass.
Nino wriggles his small hand out from her hold and sneaks to the far corner. There is another boy (he can’t be any older than me, Nino thinks to himself) standing against the wall of the ballroom. The first thing he notices is how his fringe stops just before his eyes. The second thing he notices is how deep set his features are. The third thing he notices is that the other boy is examining Nino from head to toe before his eyebrows raise in recognition.
“Mother says that I shouldn’t talk to you,” he says, fingers trying to loosen his tie.
“Matsumoto,” Nino calls out, unbuttoning his restrictive tuxedo jacket, “my mother said the same thing.”
“Let’s be friends.”
Jun nods and grabs Nino’s wrist, “The exit to the party is that way.”
(4)
Nino hops off the train at Yokohama station one hot summer afternoon, coughing from the train smoke and jumping a little at the horn that signals the train’s departure. Taking his eyes off the crowded station, he rummages through his belongings for his fan when he knocks into a man in complete Western dress, looking as though he is a diplomat going for a party at the Rokumeikan.
Nino’s belongings scatter all over from the impact and he bends down to try to pick them up - holding his yukata up with one hand so that it will not get in the way. The other man appears to have an easier time bending down and uses his white handkerchief with the initials M.J to pick up the woodblocks that Nino has to sell, as well as the kimono that Nino has been tasked to pass to a distant aunt.
Their shoulders brush as they move on in opposite directions.
(17)
Balancing the Nikon camera in his small hands, Nino looks through the viewfinder to find Jun - or Matsujun as they all call him - staring right back at him. He clicks the shutter. The flash is bright but Jun doesn’t blink as he adjusts his pose for another picture. The lead photographer then asks for a lighting adjustment, a stronger fan and a set alteration. Nino takes the chance to change his lens while the makeup artists fusses over the perspiration on Jun’s face.
New settings in place, he clicks the shutter a couple more times before the lead photographer calls it a day. He surrenders the photos obediently to his boss, secretly saving some of the photos in his own memory card before leaving alone through the barely lit corridor. The other photographers and the rest of the staff apparently want to have some drinks with their favourite model.
Nino grimaces at the thought. What’s so charming about Jun anyway? Maybe he might be pretty at every angle? But. His skin is not perfect, he could be taller, he’s lean instead of muscular like the ideal man should be. It’s not like he is that charming anyway. Maybe sometimes he does want to take a second glance at Jun but that’s about all. He bitches to himself about all the stupid people who are cheated by Jun’s not-so-good physical appearance. Wait till they know what a douchebag he is inside.
When he finally reaches home, Nino throws on a random oversized t-shirt lying on the floor with a pair of old faded pants that is sitting on the dining table and promptly collapses on the sofa. He pulls the laptop towards himself and inserts the memory card into it to admire his work for the day (strictly for professional purposes! he tells himself) when the door opens and he hastily shuts his laptop.
The man from the photos is holding two dozens of beer in one hand and a full pack of gyoza in the other.
“Supper?”
(3)
Junko pats white powder on Kazue’s face and neck before tinting her lips a bright red. She tilts her fellow maiko’s head sidewards to put ribbons, silk flowers and other ornaments in her hair while Kazue whines - she always does - complaining that she wants to be a geisha soon. Then, she can do away with the excessive hair accessories and opt for a darker kimono shade.
Jun snorts back, already completely dressed in a light purple kimono with bright pink peonies all around the fabric. She pushes a dangly hair pin into Kazu’s hair and adjusts it into place, ignoring her wincing and protesting about how uncomfortable it is. When she is finally satisfied with Kazue’s hair, she stands up and pulls her fellow maiko up with her to dress her in a light yellow kimono . For a moment, she can’t resist but to wrap her arms around her waist briefly, and Kazue leans in.
They eventually untangle, helping each other smoothen out their kimonos as they leave, getas skimming against the pavement as they go to the first teahouse for the day.
(15)
“They should have gotten another ten thousand yen with the diamonds they traded in,” Jun comments, leaning over the counter to adjust the air conditioning.
“Oh, come on, I did them a service by giving them loose change instead of big notes,” Nino replies, locking the drawer with the precious gems and reverting the air conditioning back to the previous temperature.
“You are cheating them out of their money.” An accusing finger. Another adjustment of the air conditioner.
“Commission, J, Commission.” Nino replies, pushing Jun’s hand away from the control.
“How is ten thousand yen commission?”
“Well, they didn’t realize it,” Nino says, one hand grabbing onto Jun’s wrist and the other's fingers flipping through a stack of one thousand yen notes.
(8)
Nino parts the purple curtains of Matsumoto Ramen stand and sits down on the wooden stool farthest away from where the owner is.
He order a shoyu ramen and tugs his legs under himself as he reaches for a tissue and a pen that is running out of ink from the breast pocket of his ill fitted linen shirt. He tries writing a few lines, then strikes them off before throwing the crumpled piece of tissue onto the ground, unhappy with the result.
Instead he chooses to slouch forward to focus on how the sweat beads accumulate at the edges of the owner’s bandana and how they drip effortlessly from his forehead. Nino lets himself get distracted by how the other man subconsciously uses the back of his left hand to quickly wipe the perspiration away as he drains the noodles with his right. The owner then puts the cooked ramen with the broth in the bowl, taking extra care to make sure that the meat fans out perfectly before topping the noodles with seaweed. Wiping his hands on the apron tied around his hips, he serves the bowl of hot brimming noodles to Nino with a light bow, beaming brightly at his achievement.
Nino mumbles a thanks as he digs in - dipping his spoon into the soup when he notices the owner’s line of vision narrowing onto him. Nino looks up, wondering if there was something wrong. Right.
He is going to make a comment about me being left-handed, Nino thinks, squaring his face to make sure he can hide his distaste.
“Cute,” he says instead.
“Eh?”
“Nothing.” he replies, returning to prepare more food.
“Does that mean I get free refills?”
(9)
Jun first meets him at a lounge. He is there alone, drinking from the couch seat that is the farthest away from the stage and half hidden by the darkness. The other him is in a white shirt that is too big on him with pants that are too long for his height. Then again, the grand piano covers more than half his stature so it doesn’t really matter.
What does matter is how he tries to sit up straight and run his fingers through the black and white keys of the instrument, moving his whole body to reach the notes farther away. Jun swirls the ice in his whisky glass as he watches how the pianist’s shoulders jerk when he uses his strength and how his feet barely touch the pedals. Despite his best efforts, Jun thinks amusingly, he is still slightly slouching.
No one really cares about the pianist, Nino later tells him.
I’m no one then, Jun retorts, leaving his glass on the piano and throwing his jacket over Nino's shoulders before joining the smaller man on the seat that is tearing apart at the seams from age and use.
Nino pulls his knees towards himself and hugs them while leaning his head on Jun’s shoulder, taking in the smell of his expensive cologne mixed with the tobacco that he has just finished. Jun reaches for his glass, drinks a little and then places the glass on Nino’s lips. Nino lets his palms cup Jun’s as he sips.
“I’ve got work to do.”
“I’ve got a wife to go home to.”
(13)
“Juuunnnooosukkee, what are we having for dinner tonight?” Nino walks through the genkan , kicks his shoes haphazardly to the side and proceeds to spread himself onto the tatami floor, nose taking in the scents that are coming out of the kitchen.
“Rice with fish and miso soup.”
“But I want pork instead!”
“We are having fish today.”
“Hamburger steak!”
“Fish.”
“Chicken!”
There are two seconds of silence before Nino can hear the distinct sound of Jun turning the gas stove off. He closes his eyes, very aware of what is going to happen next - would he use today's papers or yesterday's? The next thing he hears is Jun stomping out of the kitchen and the expected sound of paper being rolled up. Nino braces himself for the impact.
“Just eat whatever I cook.”
He pulls Jun down by his shirt and kisses him instead.
(19)
Jun has his gun pointing at Nino’s chest - right where the heart beats. Count it, he says, count your last heartbeats. Nino stares at him - defiantly - “I won’t be able to count because I’ve so many more heartbeats left.”
Jun laughs, tracing Nino’s heart with the barrel of his gun, “You’re an interesting one.”
“Have you felt the poison in your blood yet?”
He shoots.
“Have you felt the bullet in your heart yet?”
(1)
Nino runs through the courtyard, lamp in hand and his coat getting trapped in between his legs as he runs. Stupid clothes, why do I have to wear so many layers, he grumbles inwardly. His lacquered hat starts to tilt and threatens to fall so he has to support it with his other hand, putting the letter inside his sleeve as he speeds up.
He pants when he reaches the door, letter in hand when she walks by - her long black hair touching her waist and the deep purple train dragging across the floor as she takes every single graceful, controlled step. She stops briefly to adjust her outer coat as it falls off her shoulder and Nino can only stare at the layers of lavender and white silk underneath it. She seems to have noticed him, turning in his direction to smile at him in acknowledgement before her attendant catches her up from the back.
“Lady Matsumoto! Why are you going out so late in the night?”
“It’s a beautiful night, Masako,” she replies, brushing the stray hair strands away from her face.
“You could have at least told me!” her attendant exclaims, bending over to catch her breath, “If anything happens to my Lady, my Lord will kill me!”
Lady Matsumoto smiles indulgently back and Masako makes various comments about how this is not funny and how she will really be dead if the Lady is hurt in anyway. It is then that Nino notices that the Lady is staring at him from the corner of her eye. That knowledge makes him quickly tilt his head downwards and tightly clutch the lamp in his hand.
“I have an urgent message for the Lord,” Nino begins - is he stammering?
“Give it to Masako,” she tells him, and he does, trying not to stare as he passes the letter to the attendant but he can’t resist, so he looks up slightly, only to be mesmerized by the red of her lips. Lady Matsumoto’s gaze turn to him - she knows! - and Nino panics. He looks down again to focus on his feet only to be distracted by how the fabric so effortless crinkles at the Lady’s feet.
Lady Matsumoto and her attendant eventually move on, but Nino remains in his position for a long time, remembering how the glorious purple fades into the night.
She never once looked back.
He never once forgot.
(6)
Jun gets off the horse carriage in front of Ninomiya Tailors and walks right through the entrance. He announces his intention to get a suit done for his sister’s wedding and the tailor, Ninomiya (judging from the name of the store) grunts, half a cigarette still in his mouth as he reaches for a measuring tape and his rice paper notebook to scribble down the numbers. He gestures for Jun to come towards him and he follows before being pushed around roughly. Nino measures his shoulder width while biting his cigarette, letting out puffs of smoke before throwing it away onto the floor.
“Raise your hands.”
Jun does but he can’t resist asking, “You look quite young. How long have you been doing this?”
Nino puts the tape around his waist and replies nonchalantly, “Long enough.”
“I like the sort of gold buttons that...” Jun begins.
“Doesn’t suit you,” Nino cuts him off rudely while taking down the length of Jun’s torso.
“I’m the customer here!”
“I make the clothes. If you don’t like it you can get out.”
(14)
“YOU!" Jun slams his palms onto the mahogany table with a loud thud as Nino strolls in casually.
"Good morning?"
"YOU LIAR!" Jun exclaims. "You said you had a brother!"
"You were so cute when you were younger," Nino replies, spinning in the leather office chair.
"We are not hiring a liar," Jun says, knuckles knocking on the tabletop to get his point across. Nino rests his elbows on the table and props his face up with his palms, looking more amused than offended.
"But I like him," Aiba says.
"Mm," Ohno concurs sleepily.
Sho quickly passes Nino the contract to sign and the smaller man quickly puts his name on the paper, a knowing smirk on his face as he directs his gaze towards Jun.
While Jun continues sulking at being outvoted, the other three manage to pry the story from their new coworker. Turns out the two used to attend the same elementary school and Nino, finding Jun gullible and cute (I am not cute) decides to grab a random boy and insists that he is Nino’s brother. Apparently Jun, at the tender age of 10, believed it.
(5)
Kazue walks down the long aisle littered with multicoloured fresh flower petals. What a beautiful bride, what a match made in heaven, they say. She grips tightly to the bouquet of red roses in her hand. She hates roses, she hates white dresses and she hates the uncomfortable high heel shoes she is wearing.
Will he be there? Will he come and rescue me? Even if he doesn’t, I want to see him one last time. I want him to see me one last time.
She finds another him at the end instead - smiling at her like she is the most precious thing in the world and promising to be with her until death does them apart. He puts his heirloom ring on her ring finger and lifts her veil to kiss her gently. She holds on to his arm and fakes a smile as everyone claps.
A little girl nudges the bride and passes her a card.
Have a good married life. - Jun
The church bells ring.
(12)
The hotel is cheap and the bed creaks when Jun pushes Nino onto it. The room is dismally decorated and it stinks of the tobacco and beer from the previous guests. The window is small, but the bright Osakan city lights still shine through, providing them with just enough light to see each other’s bodies. Then again, not seeing might be better.
Jun kisses Nino’s forehead and he brushes his lips with his thumb and kisses down the bridge of his nose. The other man’s tongue escapes, licking greedily at the flesh that is presented to him. Leaving his lips, Jun’s thumb draws a moist line down Nino’s throat to the beginning of his collar bones. Nino then reaches to pull Jun towards himself, hands stretching out to unbutton Jun’s shirt.
“We really shouldn’t be doing this.”
“That was what you said the last time,” Jun replies, kissing Nino on his mouth to shut him up.
Tell me to stop then, I dare you.
His hand moves lower.
I can’t.
(2)
Jun pets his horse and gets off his trusty companion, his glorious fox-fur armour clinking with every step his takes. He removes his headgear when he spots the hut, shaking the sweat out of his hair as he strides towards his destination. Sheathing his sword, he approaches Nino, the lingering scent of blood and red blotches on his breastplate saying more than words ever will.
Jun beams as he hands him the white banner of the defeated genji .
“So, my chief strategist, what do you have in mind for the next battle?”
(16)
Jun wishes there wasn’t the railing between him and the edge of the rooftop of the 80 storey high skyscraper that he works in. The railing, he curses to himself, is such an artificial construct, a man made obstruction to the freedom that is outside. He wishes he could dangle his feet off the edge of the rooftop, feeling the nothingness underneath his feet – it’s as though there are endless possibilities underneath his feet, waiting for him to explore.
He likes high places, he always has. The air is fresher, the scenery is nicer and everything seems to fall into place. He likes staring at the expressways from that height, the pulse of the city leading straight towards the heart of Tokyo. He likes staring at the windows of the nearby buildings – each small window generating millions in revenue. He also likes seeing the roofs of the houses, thinking about what people may be doing in them. A mother cooking? A child playing? Maybe an argument between couples, he laughs to himself.
Glorious, glorious city scape.
Certain days Jun feels useless and the same glorious city scape returns to bite him. There are people with families waiting for them to come home to, there are people in these little windows generating millions of dollars of income.What is he then, a casualty of the dog eat dog world? Just another someone? He doesn’t want to be that someone that people will forget, he wants to be that one that leaves an impression.
“You know, if you want to, you can climb over,” he hears a voice. He smells the faint scent of tobacco.
“I don’t want to be told that by you.”
“Then do it before I say so.”
“And I should do it because you tell me to do so?”
Nino holds the cigarette away from his mouth with his thumb and index finger, letting the slight breeze blow the circles of smoke away.
“It was not your fault. “
“What the fuck do you know?“ Jun lashes out, grabbing the collar of Nino’s shirt and staring into his eyes. “Who the fuck are you?”
Nino puts his hand around Jun’s wrist.
Jun lets go.
“You don’t even know me,“ he scoffs.
“I do. You are Matsumoto Jun and you are the Managing Director of the company I work for.”
(11)
Jun sits on his wooden table and loosens the metallic buttons on his shirt. “Let’s skip school tomorrow.”
“To?” Nino replies, scribbling on the blackboard and letting loose chalk dust drift around the empty classroom.
The next morning, they take their bicycles and ride from their homes to the river. Hastily dumping their bicycles to the wayside, Jun takes off his clothes to plunge in the water while Nino leans against a tree to sit down under its shade while humming lines of a melody that does not fit into any songs. When Jun returns from his swim, he throws his wet self onto Nino, who immediately launches a tickle attack against Jun in revenge. Jun quickly escapes back into the river and Nino follows in vengeance, splashing water from the river at him.
This is how the teacher finds and drags them (dripping wet) to the principal’s office.
(7)
The first time Jun says he loves Nino, he’s muffled by the sounds of the allied bombs in the neighborhood.
The first time Nino says it to Jun is in between rations about how the person he loves shouldn’t starve.
The first time they kiss is under a torn war propaganda poster with a girl in a flowery kimono cheering on men in uniform on fighter jets as they go on their suicide missions.
The last time Nino say I love you is on Jun’s dying bedside and he asks if he regrets anything.
No.
Will you want to do this again?
Yes.
(18)
They are wearing the tour t-shirts that are drenched with their perspiration and stick to their backs. Nino waves to the crowd and makes peace signs at squealing fangirls as Jun empties the bottle of mineral water onto his face and hair, fulfilling his promise of bringing happiness to the crowd of 70,000. He beams as he strides back to centre stage, the band following behind him.
They stand close together, shoulders and arms touching. Nino stares at Jun, who looks back at him, eyes sparkling with happiness as he stretches his hand for Nino to hold. Nino places his hand on Jun’s and they grip each other’s hands tight, raising them in gratitude to the audience.
“And our name is?”
Arashi .
(20)
“Do you remember?”
Nino nods. The light is getting closer.
“Coming along this time?”
“As always.”
Jun reaches out his hand and Nino takes it.
They jump.
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