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ninoexchange2014-06-23 12:54 am
nino-mod.livejournal.com) wrote in ninoexchange2014-06-23 12:54 am
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fic for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
alternatejess (1/2)
For: alternatejess
From:gomushroom
Title: Practice (Technicality) on Your Heart
Pairing/Focus: Nino/Jun
Rating: PG-13
Warning: None
Summary: Nino co-stars with Matsumoto in an Ohno-Sensei art house film production.
Notes: Dear,alternatejess, You really got me at your “Nino as an (struggling) real actor who stars in indie/arthouse films which no one understands” prompt. I originally wanted to write one kiss scene, but then it exploded into this wordy story. I hope you'll enjoy this! ;) And thank you Miss M and the awesome nino_mod for all the cheers and support ♥!
The man has been the latest sensation in the business, especially with his double hits, Into This Quiet Night, a modern dramatic romance with a glint of horror released as a popular web-series, and Rain, a noir musical feature film about bikini-clad female superheroes from the future; reviewers called them daring and uncanny masterpieces. Both are said to be offering fresh renditions of the overexploited genres, making Ohno-sensei the hot topic of the conversation around Shitamachi; he also seems to have a penchant for unusual—both camera and narrative—framing, whatever that means. Rumor has it that he doesn’t let anyone handle the story—sometimes there’s no script. Amateur local actors that have worked with him rave about the man, saying that they never imagined they could gain such precious experience, that the man has vision like all the greatest directors do, that he’s difficult to work with but it’s worth every ounce of your patience because he’s just that good.
Not that Nino cared in the first place, not until Aiba called saying he and Sho were now working on another Ohno-sensei project, asking whether he’s interested in going to an audition.
Of course, he’s interested; his last experience with the bikini-girls was mind-blowing enough to get him excited for a few others.
For all the complaints he threw at Aiba after the last short film project—how it didn’t pay the rent, how Ohno-sensei was sometimes absurdly unconventional, how he didn’t like the story, how he knew he should’ve chosen a better project—Nino does enjoy the hardship of being a lowly actor, no firm strings attached, for the sake of ‘art’; it keeps him busy for a period of time and Aiba doesn’t bother him with constant demands about another project.
Of course, he would have chosen a stage play role over a film role anytime of the year, but, as Sho is constantly reminding him, a struggling actor can’t be a chooser. “We’re nobodies, Nino, that’s just the way it is. If I have to kiss some temperamental director’s ass, maybe you should do it too and be more flexible about accepting the work you get.” Or if Nino has any more complaints, Sho just insists that he should reminisce about their younger days when they were still working for a hopeless and lame kabuki troupe, those smelly old men and all. That always shuts him up fast.
Nino opens the door and finds they are already waiting for him.
Ohno-sensei—the small figure sitting beside work-mode Sho, wearing reading glasses, surrounded by scattered paper and his thick memo books—doesn’t look up from reading a document. Nino heads straight to the lone chair in the middle of the meeting room of their production office and takes a seat.
Nothing for five full minutes, just Nino trying not to fidget in his seat, Sho writing things at full speed, and Ohno-sensei staring at a piece of paper.
“Can you play the piano? It says so here in your file.”
The first—and only—question, delivered in a soft tone without having Ohno-sensei even look up and meet his gaze, startles Nino.
Unsure of how this will work out to his benefit, he doesn’t lace his answer with any other information. “Yes.”
Ohno-sensei looks up to meet his gaze, holding the stare for a while. It isn’t enough time to school his expression into something mild, and not full of questions and confusion; Nino can only stare back.
A small smile blooms on Ohno-sensei’s face, and before Nino can reply it, the man says, “Okay, Sho-chan, he’ll do. Looking forward to work with you again, Nino.”
A ‘huh’ comes out of reflex, earning Nino a glare from Sho across the room, silently asking him to keep his manners in check. But he needs to ask. “But you haven’t seen me play,” he says, confused, “or act the script.”
“I don’t have to.” Ohno takes one look at him, sending him that small smile again, one quirk at the corner of his lips with knowing eyes, before standing up and walks toward the door. “I should go meet Aiba-chan and ask him to get a white grand piano ready. Sho-chan, I’ll leave the rest to you.”
“Sure, Sensei.” Sho stands to bow to Ohno-sensei before, quickly, turning to Nino, holding both his hands in front of him to keep Nino from firing another question. “Just wait.”
The door closes behind Ohno-sensei.
It’s only when he gets home from his audition that Nino remembers the single page of script he received from the production office. He realizes that Ohno-sensei didn’t even bring it up at all.
Eyes closed, Nino sighs heavily and sets his mind on restarting the image from the first frame. Whose bedroom? His? His partner’s? And he is not—definitely not—going to get over the ‘naked’ part. How naked it is going to be? Half naked? All naked? Physically naked? Mentally naked? And if it’s mentally, what the hell is that supposed to mean? He almost wishes he could edit the whole thing, or at least ask for adequate preparation to approach the scene one line at a time. While focusing on the details for the setting first, he won’t go on to read the second, and so on. Not to mention the other images, even more mind-blowing. Lips. A pair of lips—he knows it’s going to involve a partner. Bloody hell. And having been around, he knows that when a script says extreme close up, it will be terribly extreme. Else, they would have used the usual term, CU for close up, and ended things at that. No need to be detailed, no need to be so close, no need to fill the film with intricate details of, in this case, a pair of lips. Puckered lips to land over other puckered lips, and to have it invade the frame, filling the entire screen with lips—.
Then his phone buzzes in his pocket, startling the hell out of him. Opening his eyes, Nino straightens his feet, taking the chance to finally lie on his back against the carpet of his living room floor, hands going through his pocket to fish out his phone.
“Hello?”
“Good afternoon,” a deep voice greets him on the end of the line. “I’m trying to reach Ninomiya Kazunari. This is Sakurai Sho from the Puru Puru Simpuru production office. Now, regarding your shooting schedule, I am calling to infor—“
Rolling his eyes, Nino cannot hold in his chuckles. “That company name is just too hilarious. What is it, Sho-chan?”
“Ninomiya-san, I am calling on behalf of the—“ Sho sighs audibly before he begins to whisper. “I was trying to do this the right way, okay? Work with me here.”
“By being so formal all of a sudden?”
“By doing this by the book.”
“You just startled me out of my complicated scene training at a crucial moment.” Nino rolls to the side and his back is crying a bit from the sudden movement, reminding him that he has been crouching the whole morning. “What is it then? Did I get the part or not?”
“Nino,” Sho says, a little squeaky this time. “Why do you have to ruin the fun?”
“Because you ruined my fun first?”
“I certainly did not. This is the middle of a workday. For those who’re working, that is. Not that I’m responsible for you not having work at this time of day.”
“So I didn’t get the part.”
“That’s not what I said,” Sho replies, a beat too fast. “I was just trying to say that you—“
“Got the part?”
There’s no sound except Sho’s huffing from the end of the line and Nino can clearly imagine Sho pouting, hunched toward his computer screen, cursing internally. That very image brings a smile on his face, knowing that his guess is spot on.
“Come on, Sho-chan. Stop being such a tight-ass and just spill the good news.”
“Fine,” Sho replies. “First, stop making comments about my ass. And second, you got the part. Congratulations. Happy now?”
The smile blooms into a wide grin. Nino lets out a small ‘woohoo’ before rolling himself on the carpet, running into a stack of his books with his left leg and crushing his right arm uncomfortably.
“I take it that you’re happy since I could clearly hear your ‘woohoo’.”
“Woohoo!”
“Like I said, I heard that already. Now, can I get your attention back so I can inform you of your schedule?”
“Who’s the other one?” Ignoring Sho’s question, a muffled sound comes out of his mouth, currently fixed against the soft carpet.
“You’re definitely ruining the fun for me.”
“Who is it?”
“I am tempted to not tell just to get back at you for being a not-fun person.”
“I thought this was about work. Isn’t it against your policy to mix fun with work?”
“I should’ve listened to Aiba-chan and let him handle your schedule.”
“That you probably should have. But I’ll find out sooner or later. Both your notoriously rigid schedule and the info about my co-star. Just tell me already.”
“Now you’re just bragging. We all know that this is a film production but it doesn’t mean that you can start calling Matsumoto your co-star all of a sudden. We here don’t really use the term co-star as much as—“ Sho stops talking abruptly, both from the realization that he just mentioned the name Nino was asking for and hearing Nino’s laughter on the other end of the line. “Oh, fuck you.”
The laughter intensifies.
“I am serious here. I really hate you right now.”
“I know, Sho-chan. I hate you too. So, who’s this Matsumoto guy?”
Giving up entirely, Sho caves. “Some guy Ohno-sensei scouted. He’s new. I don’t know, I’ve never worked with him or heard of him. You can probably nag Aiba-chan about this because he’s in charge of the guy. Plus, I’m not telling. I just don’t know much about him so spare me the questions.”
“Sure. And I can safely assume you’re not coming over for dinner. With all the extra work?”
“At least put in some effort if you’re truly inviting me for dinner.” Another sigh. “I’ll email you the schedule then. It’s better than calling you and not even getting a—“
“Thank you, Sho-chan,” Nino says softly, silencing Sho immediately. He can see Sho’s pout slowly break into a satisfied smile. “Now go phone and bother someone else.”
Sho doesn’t say anything back and just cuts the line after that, leaving Nino cackling to himself in his dark living room.
“So how does he look?”
Aiba only laughs at his question, swinging the grocery bag toward Nino who’s been waiting as he settles down by the door to take off his boots.“Could you at least let me make it to your kitchen safely?”
“No.”
“Give me that,” Aiba says, standing up and grabbing the bag back before shouldering his way to Nino’s kitchen. “I’m starving.”
“Well, me too. But you can always talk while getting some food ready.”
“You’re being overly suspicious about this Matsumoto guy. Sho-chan already told me about his blabbing to you this afternoon so you know his name already. What you don’t know is?”
“The rest of the important information.”
“Perhaps I also won’t tell.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t pull a Sho-chan on me.”
“Perhaps I would if you asked nicely,” Aiba says. He begins to unload the bag as Nino settles across him at the counter. Tonight it’s going to be simple, just dump some vegetables out, get the potatoes he stored at Nino’s fridge few days back, and mix them all in with his mother’s recipe for home-made mayonnaise. Nothing fancy, and more importantly, it’s fast and has vegetables in it.
Aiba begins to cut the cucumber and then moves on to sprinkling salt and pepper on the microwave-heated mashed potatoes, while keeping Nino waiting just a bit longer. “I don’t know why you’re so excited about this new guy. Was it because Sho-chan’s being so secretive all of a sudden and you’re just teasing him?”
“I am curious. I’ve never heard of him, and Ohno-sensei scouted him.”
“Ah, that was the problem, right?”
“That’s not what I mean. I think I can say I know almost everyone. Arthouse doesn’t really have a broad network to begin with, and Shimokitazawa is definitely not that large.”
“You wouldn’t know the guy if he works in mainstream entertainment.”
“Nah. That wouldn’t be possible. Anyone who’s gone mainstream wouldn’t want to feature in Sensei’s work.”
“You got it wrong. It’s the other way around. Sensei wouldn’t want that person in his work.”
“So this Matsumoto is definitely not from mainstream then.”
“It’s really terrifying to witness your brain work that fast. I hope you don’t break Sho-chan too much this time,” Aiba says, shrugging good-naturedly as he pours the miso and broth into the pan he set up on the kitchen counter. “He never stands a chance against you.”
Nino presses on, ignoring the additional comment from Aiba. “And then? What else do you know about him?”
“Since you asked nicely.” Aiba shrugs at the tone, and focusing on the now mayonnaise and putting the dish together. “Not much actually.”
“But enough to give me the basics, right?”
“You are persistently persistent. Why is it, actually? It’s not like you are going to—“ Aiba’s hand stop mid-mix. He puts the bowl and his wooden spoon down slowly, keeping sharp eye contact with Nino. “I’ll be damned.”
For all his persistence, Nino knows when he needs to lie low and retreat. He tries his best innocent smile before answering, “Hmm?”
“Seriously?” Aiba starts to laugh, with his hiccup giggles in the middle, resulting in Nino failing to keep his innocent expression.
Time to retreat, and to play innocent, because apparently Aiba can read him like a book—a fact that he would hate if it didn’t also work the other way around. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m sure you do. It’s that scene, the scene, which Sho-chan said Ohno-sensei refers to as the scene to end all scenes. Whatever that means. I can’t believe you took Sho-chan’s comments seriously.” Shaking his head lightly, Aiba swallows his giggles slowly before reaching for the bowl and going back to mixing his salad.
He’s halfway turning from the cabinet to get the plates out when Nino decides that maybe it’s a lost battle this time. “Fine. Fine! If you’re not going to tell me, then you're not going to tell me. Can you just please hurry with the food then, I’m starving.”
“Mhmm, self-defence. Always so cute.”
Nino flushes at the off-hand comment. It’s never his intention to get into wordplay with Aiba because no matter how it turns out, the man can really hold his ground around him. He learned a long time ago that it’s never easy to get information from Aiba, especially when it concerns their work.
“Even cuter.” Aiba throws his failed wink toward him as he slides the plate to Nino’s side with a laugh, clearly noticing the flush. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, really.”
This time it’s Nino’s turn to pout, no better than Sho’s this afternoon.
“You brought this upon yourself, after all.”
“And I’m regretting every moment of it.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“Will you give me the info now that you know I’m regretting it?”
“Perhaps I will. If you eat your vegetables, I will tell you all I know about this Matsumoto guy.”
“If.”
“Yes, if. Let’s make it good and finish the whole dish this time?”
“I know this is a scheme to make me eat any green thing, but I might overlook that because my curiosity is killing me.”
“Your curiosity is always killing you so that won’t be a problem.”
“No need to be mean, Aiba-chan.”
Aiba hands him a fork. “Go ahead.”
Nino accepts it and begins to poke his plate. “There are an awful lot of green things in this.”
“Which need to be consumed fast before their water starts to ooze out and ruin my salad.”
“That’s just disgusting,” he says, although with a pout he then takes a small bite. “Happy now?”
Aiba lets out a small ‘yay’ at that.
“I take it that you’re happy since I’m totally getting your annoying ‘yay.’”
“Yay!”
“So start talking or I’m going to stop eating this disgusting stuff.”
“That disgusting stuff is good for you, you know.” Aiba shifts his own plate closer and begin munching. “What do you want to know about this Matsumoto anyway?”
At such a direct question, Nino finds himself questioning his own question. “Anything. Anything that would help.”
“That he’s not from mainstream?”
“I already deduced that much.”
“And yet you keep on pushing.” Aiba replies easily as he takes another bite of the salad, savoring the flavour. “I don’t think I have much on him though. All I can tell you is what his CV said about him, which I happened to read this afternoon because Sho-chan insisted on pulling it out of the drawer. For you, if I have to guess. He was going to blab all the details himself soon, I’m sure. You should’ve been patient and waited for him to call you back.”
“I have you right here, right now.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” Aiba says, with a small smile and a wave of a hand.
Nino snorts at that, refusing to be distracted from his main intentions. “Aiba-chan, I’ve almost finished half of this and you haven’t given me anything.”
“I gave you food, good food that shouldn’t be left to waste.” Aiba on the other side of the counter has finished his salad and in dumping more spoonful scoops from the bowl onto his plate. “He’s striking though.”
Nino sighs heavily. While he knows Aiba is probably saying so to get back at him for being a nag, he trusts Aiba when it comes to a ‘striking’ comment. It doesn’t come out easy from him, a ‘striking’ comment, so the man is probably striking as he says. And Nino hates himself now that they’re talking about ‘striking’ and the only image that comes to mind is a topless Aiba. What’s that all about, really?
Or perhaps topless Matsumoto is an even better image? After all, Aiba said ‘striking’ so perhaps that’s good for now.
“Don’t you have any other information? Any that will come in handy?”
“I though that was useful,” Aiba says. He waves his spoon toward Nino. “You would want to know that, right? Even if that fact will make you even more self-conscious.”
“Am not.”
Aiba laughs. “Oh, this is going to be a good production, I just know it. Sho-chan will fly off the fucking handle as usual. And Sensei will bring those weird visions alive—as usual.”
Nino knows when to stop prodding, so he does. He’d not getting anything else from Aiba—without having to eat another dish of green things. What worries him is that he probably will chew on celery sticks if Aiba asks him to just for a sliver of probably more useless info.
He can always do his own research on the side, can’t he?
What he called research—involving asking around to old friends in the business and a hesitant Google search—doesn’t yield much, that he knows. And he’s one step closer to wrecking his nerves, he blurts out without realizing, only a second too late, since that definitely catches Yuriko’s attention.
“That was rare of you. I didn’t know that you got this nervous over a production,” she says, her price tagger moving at constant speed as she reaches for more and more bags of chips.
Nino sends her a sullen look from across the small stock room. “I’m not that nervous.”
“Yes you are,” she replies easily, “or else you would’ve been done tagging those bags of chips ten minutes ago. You’re working so slowly today.”
He looks down to see the box of potato chips still half full, the price tagger hanging idly in his hand, and he can’t comment further. The conversation had started off light when Yuriko asked him about his schedule for next month, since he’s going to be away for a production. He should have known that her listening to him rant away the worry doesn’t equal her sympathizing any more.
“Maybe I am,” Nino says, “maybe I’m not.”
“Anyway, is this going to be that long period of production, like the one you had last year? If so, I need you to tell me in advance. It’s hard enough to find new people these days, so I want to be prepared.”
“Two months.”
“Full? You can’t even take a single shift during those months?” Yuriko sets aside her empty chips box before reaching for the next box, full of cup ramen this time.
“I guess not.”
“And you expect us to be here when you come back, with open arms, saving your lousy combini shift so you can go back to be a commoner after your trip to the clouds?”
“Yuriko-chan, no one wants the job anyway. It’s, your word not mine, lousy.” Nino says, with a warm tone. They’ve done this before and it’s always entertaining all the same. “I’m sure the job will still be available when I’m back.”
“If you come back, that is. Who knows? You’ll probably get some lucrative offers on the way and refuse to come back to your old work place, claiming trauma and office bullying.” Yuriko shifts her price tagger and empty boxes aside. “Okay, I’m done. And you really are slow today.”
Attempting to catch some more speed with tagging, Nino accidentally topples the stack of empty cartons he has set aside. “Oh shut up, boss.”
“Well, now that I have time,” she says, straightening her feet within the available space and leaning back on the supply shelves behind her, “you can go on with your story of being nervous.”
Nino punches the tag a bit roughly, causing the bag he’s holding to slip out of his hands. “I’m not nervous, okay?”
“Okay, you’re not nervous. Not nervous at all. Then?”
“I don't’ know why I’m talking about this with you.”
“Mhmm, I don’t know. Perhaps because Aiba-chan and Sho-kun are not being, your word not mine, cooperative.” She ends the sentence with one of her scariest smiles.
“That’s very helpful.”
“Anything for my lousy combini work partner,” she replies dryly. “Now, stop beating around the bush and let me know why you’re nervous about this production—that hasn’t even started yet—and how you’re so antsy about this Matsumoto guy—that you haven’t even met.”
The sullen look comes back to his face. “I’m not nervous. Nor antsy.”
“And you said I was helpful.” She rolls her eyes and sighs heavily, folding her arms in front of her before sending Nino a sceptical glare. She stands up and heads to the door. “I should go back. I don’t trust Ryo-chan for longer than an hour. I hope he hasn’t destroyed the store.”
Nino hums his acknowledgement. The moment has passed—and what did he expect anyway? Circling around the matter at hand or not, he can’t bring himself to answer to the questions she posed earlier. Just another layer to add to his helpless nervousness—just wait, he keeps telling himself, just wait till you find out more to tell.
Yuriko stops at the door and turns to him before she steps out. “I’ll be behind the counter if you need to talk about that nervousness.”
He nods silently: it’s an open offer, her message crystal clear. He might take her up on it someday.
He doesn’t expect a formal introduction party to start off the production. No one in their lowly business circle, as far as he knows, has the time or money to arrange such festivities. But when Sho told him that he should come by the office before he goes to his fitting session, he wasn’t expecting everyone from their small production team—Sho and Aiba, and Ohno, and a sparkly guy, along with two other guys, one he recognized from a previous short project, Takeda-san, if he’s not mistaken, and a woman, perhaps some other art department person, judging from the oversized shirt she wears, from the Into the Quiet Night Team. That’s all you’re getting—gathered in the small room to hold a formal introduction, not a party of course, meeting. There are still chairs and desks and work papers all over the room so it isn’t enough to be considered party—but it is close, since everyone is there.
Including that Matsumoto guy.
Including that Matsumoto guy who is chatting with Ohno-sensei with poised ease, towering over the small man—and who by deduction, will tower over him too—wearing, from what he can tell, a sweet, fond expression on his face.
He senses Aiba approaching. “Is that—?”
“Glad to see you could make it to the party even if you’re terribly late. Sho-chan was worried you’d skip this one.” Aiba pats him on the shoulder as a greeting. He stands by Nino, sipping his coffee lazily. “You’re blocking the door, by the way.”
“He is good-looking. Strikingly, annoyingly, amazingly good-looking.”
Aiba turns to Nino, chuckling lightly at the sight of him staring openly at the man across the room.
“I’m doomed.”
“Yes, you are.” Aiba smiles at that, a little bit too happy for being the sole witness of Nino’s surprise. They are standing right by the door, not actually blocking it but very close to preventing anyone from trying to go through. “And we are blocking the door now.”
“How am I supposed to go over there, introduce myself?” Nino murmurs to himself. “And was that—?”
Aiba turns his gaze to follow Nino’s focus: Matsumoto is chuckling over something Ohno-sensei has just said, causing them both to close their distance, whispering about what seems to be a secret they refuse to share with the rest of the world.
Nino feels himself burning, rooted to his spot, realizing that Aiba is aiming amused, utterly amused, stares at him, but his gaze stays on the man across the room. “I’m going to punch that talented director if I find out that he’s sleeping with that new guy he scouted personally.”
“Very violent for an awe-at-first-sight declaration, I’ll say. You have nothing to worry about though. If Ohno-sensei ever has time to sleep these days, he’s going to be out cold within minutes. The guy works too much.”
Ignoring too much information about Ohno—when all he wants is information about the other guy—Nino elbows Aiba’s side, missing his mark since his aim is not accurate and he ends up delivering a weak nudge instead. Across the room, Matsumoto laughs over Ohno-sensei’s—what Nino could only hope is a—terrible joke. “I’m so doomed.”
“That’s twice. Let me get Sho-chan and a video camera. You can achieve a triple then.”
“That’s not nice of you.” Nino finally shifts a bit, closing his distance with Aiba, only to get a better angle of the two men across the room who have moved along toward the window and are having what he can as assume is a more serious conversation now—at least he can set the plan to punch Ohno-sensei aside, now that he doesn’t appear as smooch-y as before.
“There’s no need to be nice to you. In fact, I’m going to get very not nice and tease you to infinity.”
“That’s definitely not nice. I haven’t even talked to him, struck a boring conversation or just seen his striking face up close.”
“It’s incredible what a page of script can do to ruin your sanity. If I hadn’t already known that Sensei is a genius, I’d be proclaiming it now. You literally have hearts in your eyes.”
“How the hell am I going to get naked with a guy like that?” Nino ignores the teasing—for now—and mumbles to himself; Aiba hears him clearly all the same.
“Good job on finally saying that concern out loud, yet we’re still blocking the door,” Aiba says, sparing him the teasing—for now—and ushering them farther into the room. “Let’s get you all introduced. And then I should really get Sho-chan because he must have thought of this moment and readied a camera somewhere in the room for the moment we have all waiting for.”
“I really hate you two right now.”
He can only blame the page of the script—and Ohno-sensei, by extension—for the fact that the moment he steps into the space he’s been observing, his gaze goes directly to Matsumoto’s lips. Such lush lips, finally, up close. Dammit.
And Aiba—Nino swears that he’s going to get even with that teasing jerk—chooses the worst timing to push him lightly into the space, causing him to stumble ungracefully forward and disrupting what seems to be an amiable chat between Ohno-sensei and Matsumoto.
“Oh, Nino.” Ohno-sensei notices him first, only a mere half-second before Matsumoto has his gaze on him. “Glad to see you’re here. Sho-chan said you might not make it.”
Straightening himself out as fast as he can, even the effort is futile, Nino offers a small awkward smile to Ohno-sensei, and he saves turning to Matsumoto for the next part of their introduction. “I tried.”
“He sure did,” Aiba adds, offering his own big smile to ease the awkwardness.
Ohno-sensei smiles at that but—as Nino can see clearly, now that he turns his attention to the man he’s been curious about for a month, now that he has his answer right in front of him, in the flesh—Matsumoto only stares at him, pursing those lips, raising his eyebrows in question.
“I see we’ve all met,” Ohno-sensei says, breaking the short silence. “If that’s all,” he says, turning to Aiba, “I really need to get back to my drawing.”
Matsumoto cuts Aiba off before he can respond. “All? I thought we were expecting more people.”
“Nope, this is about all of us. Food is over on the table, and we cannot offer anything but coffee. It’s hot and a little bit better than instant drinks though, so help yourself.” Aiba replies promptly this time, scanning the room before pointing at the coffee table in the corner. “And Sensei, thank you. You can go back to work if you need to.”
“That’d be best.” Ohno-sensei’s expression brightens up a bit. He turns to Matsumoto to bow slightly. “I’ll see you later, Matsumoto-kun.” Then he turns to Nino, giving the same slight bow to excuse himself. “I’ll see you later, Nino-chan.”
Nino bows back and steps aside to give way for Ohno-sensei. Aiba follows him, but not before giving a failed wink over his shoulder to Nino and nodding to Matsumoto. They’re gone in a flash, leaving the two of them in the corner of the room.
Now what?
Nino is the first to recover. “We haven’t been properly introduced,” he says, holding out a hand, offering a smile.
He takes a good look at Matsumoto’s face, his expression, the quirk of his lips, those plush lips—his stare seems to always veer back to them—the sharp eyebrows and, now that he’s getting a closer look--thanks to proximity, Aiba-chan and all that—he can start seeing broad shoulders under the white striped shirt he’s wearing, leading down to his broad chest. With his mind trying futilely to adjust the bright light from the tall window into slight dimness, he squints a little bit and gradually aims his gaze lower, down to the third button, fourth button, fifth—.
“You’re staring,” Matsumoto says, with a slight hint of amusement, “at me.”
“I am,” Nino says, letting his sentence hanging. He’s not going to apologize for staring at his co-star. At least he’s firm on that; it worth the obvious amusement. But it may be rude to continue; he’ll have time later anyway. He looks up to meet Matsumoto’s eyes, smiling brightly and ignoring the image starting to bloom in his head, of the white shirt falling off that body. He corrects himself, “I was.”
Matsumoto chuckles at that. “Thank you?”
“Your welcome,” Nino replies, chuckling himself. “We were trying to introduce ourselves to each other, right?”
“Right.”
“I will probably do that a lot from now on. Just saying.” Nino shifts a bit, now trying to concentrate on Matsumoto’s hair instead of lowering his gaze back down, which looks a little bit weird in his opinion. Are those styled locks? He doesn’t know, probably doesn’t want to know. It looks good on Matsumoto though, he has to give it to him, because when the man moves his head just a little bit, those locks move with it. Some loose fringe falls toward his forehead, just above the sharp brows, which now Nino realizes are neatly trimmed and—.
“You are staring again.”
“Ah, guilty.” Nino’s right hand goes up to cover his mouth. “Second time in one afternoon is probably out of line. I’m sorry.”
“You’re a bit weird,” Matsumoto says, smile even wider now.
At that very moment, Nino makes a mental note to keep on staring at him a lot just to see his smile bloom like that; it is strikingly gorgeous, which is an advantage of being so close, but not that close, well, close enough for now. He wouldn’t attempt to be even closer, not before he can be sure that he won’t embarrass himself by stuttering, frozen on the spot, or the worst case, blushing profusely. These few minutes have been a good test; as he’s found out, he’s not going to do all of those embarrassing acts by being close, within talking distance. He hopes that by the time that scene comes, he’ll be better at this. He really hopes he’ll be better at this because—he’s damn sure Aiba-chan will bring this up later—awe-at-first-sight has turned up a notch into something else, something he hasn’t named yet—but he’s damn sure Aiba-chan will gladly give this a name anyway.
But for now, he keeps on staring shamelessly. “Yeah, I get that a lot. My name is Ninomiya. Everyone calls me Nino.”
“It’s an honor for me to work with Ohno-sensei. I hope we can get along fine during the production, and—“ Matsumoto holds his hand out, adding what Nino will remember for a long time as a Matsumoto-gag, “—and call me Jun.”
Later that night, Nino brings the matter up, fully amused. “What was that? Was he already drunk or something at that time of day?”
“I don’t think so,” Sho replies before stuffing in another mouthful of rice. “He said the exact same thing during the first meeting. That was how he introduced himself, I guess.”
“Not very bright, perhaps.” Nino gives a few nods at his own conclusion.
For all his being easy, Sho knows when to deliver a jab. “Well, no problem for me. I’m not the one who’s going to get naked with him.”
“Oh, shut up.” Nino could only flush before barrelling on with new questions. “How does he react on the page? How did his audition go? You must know more than you’re letting on. Come on!”
Sho throws a worried glance across the table where Aiba just shrugs and decides that it’s the perfect time to finish their shared gyoza plate off.
“I thought this was a celebration dinner, not an interrogation. I’m paying the bill so could you spare me the questioning. Go bother Aiba-chan.”
“I’d say you are pulling a Sho-chan on me for not being fun. But you are Sho-chan, so that nullifies everything.”
It’s Sho’s fourth sigh of the night and they haven’t even ordered the ice cream yet. “You’re going to find out yourself in two days. When you have the courage to ask him yourself. There. What’s the hurry?” Sho sighs for the fifth time. “And can we just enjoy dinner? It has been a long while since I’ve had time to actually sit in a restaurant and look at the food in front of me instead of my screen. And I won’t have time in the next two months, so please let me savor this.”
Nino considers the reasoning for a while before he glances toward Aiba, who’s still busy chewing down their shared gyoza one after another, and then back to Sho, who has ignored him completely in favor of wolfing down his hot ramen. What a helpless pair of overworked friends, he thinks fondly. “Okay. I can wait for two days. I have a script to memorize after all.”
Even with all the food in his mouth, chopsticks shoving in more noodles without altering his pace, Sho makes an effort to wave a thumbs-up. Nino lets the matter slide, for now. Production starts in two days. He’ll have plenty of time by then.
Nino is the first to enter the room. They are using the same meeting room; or perhaps, just as Nino had guessed, the office doesn’t have that many meeting rooms. More square tables and chairs are placed in the middle, along with the same table that holds the coffee machine. It’s as sparse as sparse can be; Nino isn’t expecting anything fancy to begin with—business rule #1: one can certainly tell what the scale of a production will be by the way they are feeding their crew.
Sho comes in right behind him, arms full with a stack of files and a small laptop perched on top of it. “Oh hey, you’re here already.”
“Yeah. I’m early, sorry for that.”
“No problem. I still need to set things up but since you’re here you can grab some coffee.” Sho dumps the files on one of the side table, sighing. He pulls a chair out and starts to go through the files in no time. “Make it two, if you’re going for it. I haven’t had any intake in the last hour.”
“Shooting hasn’t even begun yet and you’re already overdosed on coffee.”
Sho doesn’t even spare him a look, diving right into sorting his files and restarting his laptop. “I’m still safely within my daily limit. And knowing that the limit is going to be crushed to pieces within a few days actually excites me.”
Nino chuckles at the sudden unprompted confession. He cannot blame Sho for being excited at time like this; he is equally excited. He leaves sugar out of both their cups and heads back to the table to sit beside him. Sho welcomes his coffee with light “thank you” and goes back to his laptop screen. Nino sits idly, trying not to glance every other while toward the door, just focusing on the shutter windows across of him. Following Aiba who’s carrying what appears to be few copies of the script, Ohno-sensei enters next.
“Good afternoon,” Ohno-sensei says, before heading to the head of the table and taking a seat. He looks around, sending small smile to Nino before muttering softly. “We’re still waiting for some people, then?”
“Yes. Takeda-san and Matsumoto will be here shortly,” Aiba replies, settling himself across Nino and Sho, setting the books aside and rummaging through his bag to get his notebook out and ready.
“Okay.”
Just as Ohno finishes answering, Matsumoto comes through the door, followed by Takeda-san and the art department woman Nino saw at last week’s party.
“Oh, there you are,” Aiba says, welcoming them with a smile. He pats the chair next to him for Matsumoto so Takeda and the woman can take the seats at the far end of the table.
“Hello,” Matsumoto says, greeting Aiba before aiming his gaze across the table to meet Nino. “Hello.”
Nino only nods, trying to not to smile. It’s time to get serious after all—business rule #2: No matter how good friends you are (or how hard your so-called crush is) work always comes first. Just as Takeda settles in his chair, with perfect timing, Sho looks up to scan the room, noting that everyone is ready to begin.
“Where’s everybody? I thought we were still expecting more people,” Nino hears Matsumoto whisper to Aiba across from him.
Aiba’s reply also comes in a whisper. “All of us here is everybody.”
Ohno looks up from his paper, filled with what Nino can make out as sketches, lots of pencil sketches. He apparently heard what Matsumoto was asking Aiba and voices his answer. “Unlike your photo shoots, my production doesn’t involve a lot of people.”
Nino frowns at the statement. Photo shoots? Matsumoto is a model? He was paired with a model? Which explains why Matsumoto looks—he hates the word but—well groomed. It seems to fit the man. The stance, the pose, the look, the stare, the air, the amateur feeling, the freshness, the—
What Ohno-sensei says next startles him out of his thoughts. “And can we start the meeting now, Sho-kun? Takeda-san and Yamada-chan are here now.”
“Of course,” Sho replies.
Nino pulls his script out of his bag, setting it in front of him. It’s the norm (or what people say is business rule #3, but he won’t quote himself on that) after all to bring his to a production meeting. Even if he doesn’t have any pressing questions about the content, he needs to be able to consult (and make notes on) his copy when necessary. He can easily steal one of Sho’s fancy pens if he needs to. Yet, it’s almost never necessary. Production teams will get into heated arguments and throw each other countless suggestions. There will be numerous revisions all over the timelines, all over the directions, all over the details.
But not on this one. Ohno-sensei likes his productions to run smoothly, or more precisely, he leaves everything in Sho’s hands. With the help of Aiba, he’ll have his own freedom and all Nino has to do is to work his best.
Somehow, Matsumoto doesn't know about this yet. All serious across the table, the man has his notebook ready, making small notes all over, following Sho’s detailed explanation of the schedule, making more small notes, stretching his legs under the table right across him—that’s nice a pair of sneakers by the way—making more and more small notes.
“We’ll be stretching the second part of the Yokohama studio shoot for few days. It should give you the time span you requested, Sensei,” Sho says, pausing his reading to turn toward Ohno.
Ohno nods. “Thanks.”
“And it should give us a few more days for the Tokyo team to get ready,” Sho continues, turning to Yamada-chan.
“Great. That should be enough for us.” Yamada-chan scribbles down some notes. “Thank you, Sho-kun.”
“We then can move to the Tokyo outdoor part. Aiba-chan can explain rest of the rough time estimate,” Sho says, looking up from his screen to signal to Aiba to continue with the explanation.
“We have accommodated both your last-minute requests and fit them onto the master schedule,” Aiba says, seamlessly keeping the rhythm Sho has set, to both the art department chiefs. “We’re going to have a few off days for both Nino and Matsumoto. It’s all on this new copy of the schedule,” Aiba passes a piece of paper to Matsumoto, while Sho gives one to Nino at the same time. “There should be enough detailed points for you at the moment. We’ll get you the day-to-day points every few days during the shooting period and—“
At this point, Nino drifts off from the conversation. He can still hear Aiba continuing with his explanation. He’ll get the details later, or if he needs it, he could always ask Aiba. He shifts his gaze to Matsumoto, who’s paying attention and still making small notes every once in a while. It’s mostly Sho and Aiba talking to Matsumoto anyway—because Nino already knows they are most likely going to have another last-minute change made to the detailed schedule; they always do. Nino notices that Ohno-sensei is fixated with his own doodles; Takeda and Yamada-chan are whispering to each other, perhaps having their own little scheduling meeting; and Sho and Aiba are getting so much better at working together, completing each other’s explanations, giving details based on their strong points (Sho on site-order and Aiba on dispatch, Sho on the minutia and Aiba on the unexpected). So far Nino has listened to a good production plan, and he’s in good hands. That’s enough for him.
Perhaps Matsumoto hasn’t been made aware of this, so nothing is enough for him. The small note taking is beginning to annoy him.
“And as a last point, Sensei, do you have anything else to add?” Aiba closes his explanation and turns to Ohno-sensei.
“When is the rehearsal again?”
“Next Saturday morning for Nino,” Sho answers promptly. He doesn’t need to check his file; he has everything memorized by now. “Sunday morning for Matsumoto, and then evening for both.”
“Okay. I’ll need—“ Ohno finally looks up from his doodles. He bites into the tip of his pencil before deciding what they will need for the weekend. “Takeda-san, I need a keyboard, or if you can a piano, for Saturday morning. Set it up for number 5.”
“Got it, Sensei. I’ll see what I can do about the piano, but a keyboard shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Good. We’re practicing that scene,” Ohno says before switching his gaze toward Nino.
Nino nods silently at the implied instructions.
“And full wardrobe for Sunday morning,” Ohno continues. “We’re doing number 15.”
“Yes, Sensei,” Yamada-chan answers, readily taking notes. “I’ll get them ready. Only Matsumoto?”
“Yes. And no need for extras, Sho-kun. It’s just rehearsal.”
“Okay.”
Ohno pauses for a while, sorting his thoughts openly, everyone else waiting patiently, before he adds, “And a bed for Sunday night.”
Nino can’t help but stiffen the moment he hears the word ‘bed’ come out of Ohno’s mouth. He was half-listening to the technical details, nothing that he needed to tune into though sometimes it’s useful to know nonetheless; Sho usually will keep him updated later or he can always check back with Aiba if he wants. But at the mention of the ‘bed’, the images he’s been so busy repressing for the last few weeks come back to mind. Lips. A pair of lips. His and, now he has the other owner of said lips sitting right in front him.
Nino glances quickly across the table and finds Matsumoto is staring at him openly this time. He turns his attention back to his hands in his lap right away, slumping his shoulders further, trying to not attract any attention because he is almost certain Aiba will notice if he’s paying any attention to Nino. Perhaps not, nothing to worry about, not now, because Aiba is busy with his notes and Ohno’s instructions.
He glances across the table again, quicker this time, and this time finds Matsumoto no longer starting in his direction, and furiously taking notes instead. Can it be that the man is nervous? Not as nervous as he is perhaps, but still nervous, even just a little bit. He doesn’t know how he should take the knowledge yet but at least it’s something to think about. He has till Sunday to prepare himself. He’d rather not spend more time in the room with Matsumoto than necessary right now—which makes him even more eager to check the script for its scene numbers, or wipe the sweat from his palms without Sho knowing. If he’s gotten the numbering correctly—plus there’s a bed, what else can that be—which he’s sure he did but there’s no harm in double-checking, they will definitely rehearse the bed scene on Sunday. He and Matsumoto will—sooner than he expected then. And if he’s gotten the hint correctly, Matsumoto is at the moment trying to decide whether he should talk to Nino or not. Nino doesn’t want that to happen right now.
“We’re doing number 9 then. Do we need full lighting, Sensei?” Takeda asks. “It’d be a bit difficult—“
“No need to splurge. We’ll be rehearsing some positioning and dialogue. I only need the bed, nothing else. Oh, a stand light will be enough, or something to enhance the flash.”
“I can get few stand lights for Sunday night. No problem.”
Sho writes a few more notes down. And so does Matsumoto, Nino notices. The man looks like a kid against a baseball fence, at the first school game. Someone needs to tell him that the game hasn’t even started yet—because Nino’s beginning to have doubts whether he’s nice enough to break the man’s bubble of excitement himself.
“And I’ll get the arrangements for the truck ready by tomorrow then,” Aiba says to Yamada-chan, already anticipating her question.
“Thanks. Let’s try Saturday morning,” she says.
“Consider it done.” Aiba sees that Sho’s taking notes and then turns again to Ohno. “Is there anything else, Sensei?” Aiba prompts him when Ohno seems like he’s still lost in his thoughts, not yet finished giving out instructions.
“Nothing on the schedule. Though,” Ohno says, “I’ll need new lenses, Sho-kun.”
“I’ll double check that order later,” Sho answers this time. “I guess the scheduling meeting is done then.” He turns his gaze to everyone on the room. “Do you have any questions?” he asks Matsumoto specifically.
Matsumoto shakes his head. “Nothing that I can think of.”
“Good. We’re done then,” Sho says, before turning to Nino. “You definitely don’t have any questions, right?”
“I might have,” Nino says. “But you’ll never know.”
“Great. I’ll text both of you,” Sho concludes quickly, gesturing to Nino and Matsumoto, “about your pick-up arrangements. I’ll see you this weekend.”
“Can Takeda-san and I go then?” Ohno says. “All my shooting plans are at my office, so if you don’t mind.”
“And I need to go to Yamada-chan’s office to approve the delivery details.”
“Meeting’s done then. Thank you everyone for coming. I’ll get those lens details to you this afternoon,” Sho says to the whole room and to Ohno. “And I think I forgot something. I need to send Nino and Matsumoto the previous memo. I’ll be with you in a minute, Aiba-chan.”
Nino puts his script back into his bag, straightening his posture and getting ready to leave.
“Let me send this email to both of you before you go,” Sho says, focus back on his laptop, fingers typing rapidly.
“Why do I have to wait for you to finish working first?” Nino says, slumping back against his chair.
He’s fully aware that it’s only Sho and him and Matsumoto—who’s still taking notes, seriously, what is he taking notes of?—left in the room now. He has a night shift in two hours, already thinking about getting some quick dinner and going through the script again before his shift begins. “I need to get to my shift. We’re all done here, right?”
“In a minute, Nino.”
Nearly half minute passes, and Nino stays in his chair, gaze fixed on his old jeans, his shoes, his bag, that nice a pair of sneakers under the opposite table. He fights the urge to look up because he knows he will find Matsumoto looking at him, he can feel it right now. The man will want to talk about it, and he doesn’t, so he waits.
“Okay, done. Just be sure to check the latest details I just sent you,” Sho says finally, “and you can go now. We’ll see you Saturday.”
“Finally.” With a relief, Nino bolts to the door and leaves the office as fast as he can.
“Why do you have to start on the weekend? You know how busy we are on weekends?”
“Not that busy,” Nino says, half-listening to the run-on light protests as he sorts the magazine rack. “And it wasn’t my decision, okay, so there’s that.”
Yuriko has been grumbling the whole week about his schedule, about his going away for too long, about Ryo-chan’s latest mishaps with the salad delivery, about a pack of stray puppies she found in a box on the way back to her apartment the day before yesterday, about everything that happened when Nino had a day off. It doesn’t seem to make any sense to him but he gratefully accepts the distraction, anything that can keep his mind off the upcoming rehearsal—after all it’s only a rehearsal. He still has to go through the whole two months of shooting, with the man he’s going to share a bed with, with the man he’s going to meet every day, with the man who looks so good, very sure of himself, wearing a loose floral shirt, white tank top under, hair styled a bit differently but Nino can recognize those eyebrows anywhere. Wait. What? He doesn’t just—
“Just. Why?”
“Why what?” Yuriko turns from the shelves she’s working on to the magazine rack. “What?” She looks over Nino’s shoulder to see Nino’s gaze is fixed on a woman’s magazine with a candid snapshot of man, a striking man, wearing a hideous shirt smiling over a watermelon. “What? Is that what I think it is? Who I think he is?”
Nino puts down the magazines he’s been holding, closes his eyes and waits for Yuriko to connect the dots—he’s sure that she’s going to get it eventually. “Can I switch with Ryo-chan? I can do garbage. No problem. This is getting even more ridiculously embarrassing.”
“He’s that famous?” Yuriko says, stepping closer to the rack, picking up the magazine in question. Realization dawns slowly on her. “And he’s gorgeous, in a way, I don’t know, he’s weirdly attractive. Nice job, Nino.”
“How much is that?”
Yuriko smirks. “980 yen. And it says it has features on the most recent Summer Collection. And a full spread at that. Oh. I bet it’s a nice spread, and summer always means more skin, less fabric. You should definitely buy this.”
“If you’re half as interested as you say you are, you buy it.”
“You saw this first. So you buy it. Plus I’m not buying a magazine so you can borrow it and ogle at your crush during work hours. Naturally, I am going to borrow it later from you to finally get a full glimpse of your crush. I also can get up-to-date info on what to wear this summer. Win-win!”
“But you can ogle, too. Think of it as an investment.”
“Maybe I’m not interested in ogling, or even in investing. Maybe I can live without ever reading this particular magazine.”
“Maybe you are. This is a women’s magazine. There must be something you’re interested in. Come on. Consider it research. An investment and research.”
“But I don’t need to research a girls’ magazine, much less invest in one. That’s your cue. Plus I read my magazines for free at my usual diner, thank you very much. I take it you’re interested. I’m just going to cut it from your next paycheck.”
“You’re going to do that anyway right?” Nino finally gives up; the more he looks at the cover the more he wants to rip open the plastic right away and get down to ogling after all. Why fight the inevitable? Yuriko-chan is going to crack him sooner or later. “Fine. I’ll get Ryo-chan behind the register and we can take this to the back.”
Much to Nino’s relief, he doesn’t spot Matsumoto Saturday morning. He’s told to go to the basement of their office and finds that front security clears him immediately. He steps down the steep steps to find the basement resembling an underground nightclub, complete with the barstools and stage. There’s no harsh lighting—not yet, but he knows there will be a lot of it later—and only a few people from the art department along with Takeda-san are around. A sleep-deprived Sho greets him on under the stairs. “Nice timing. Go see Yamada-chan. Go right, the room by the loading dock. She’ll fix you up. We have 30 minutes.”
“Okay,” Nino says, all serious and without any biting remarks this time. He circles the empty stage to get to the right wing and walks down the hall.
“Good morning.” Nino enters the makeshift corner.
“Oh, Nino-san, good morning. Right on time,” Yamada-chan greets him back. “I’m ready for you. Let’s do your hair first. Here, let’s put your bag over here.”
“Okay,” Nino complies. Setting aside his bag and cap, he then sits on the stool and let Yamada-chan work. No fancy decorations—as expected of a cheap production and Sho. Yamada-chan continues to do something with his hair and face in silence while Nino sits, looking at his own reflection in the small mirror, reciting the whole script in his head, keeping his own mood on check, trying to be still and patient; finally work will begin.
In under 20 minutes, Yamada-chan has finished her work; Nino has his hair styled, and he’s donned a sleek black suit, a loose tie around his neck and a ridiculous purple corsage on his chest.
“Done,” Yamada-chan announces while circling him to inspect her work. “Do you need something else? Anything I missed?”
“You said it’s done so it’s done, Yamada-chan,” Nino replies, adding a sleepy wink. “You know best.”
She smiles tiredly at him. “Just don’t flip this seam, right here,” she adds, showing where the cufflinks should be. “The suit is not yet done. I didn’t make the morning deadline.”
“Got it.”
“Let’s get you to the set then.”
Ohno-sensei is already on set by the time they get there, fiddling with the camera with one of his assistants. Nino says his greeting and waits just in front of the table as Yamada-chan talks to Ohno first. He notices there’s a keyboard on the center stage now, lit by two stand lights.
“Good morning, Nino. All ready, I see,” Aiba greets him, holding what appears to be a giant mug of hot steaming coffee.
“Yeah, good morning to you too,” Nino replies. “Would it be too much if I asked for coffee?”
“No problem, I can get you some,” Aiba says, staying where he is. “You went straight to Yamada-chan, I see.”
“Yeah, Sho-chan forgot his manners and didn’t offer anything at all.”
“You know how he gets at times like this. Seriously, I can get you one. Just after I finish this one, because I don’t think I can move if I don’t down this properly.”
“It’s not even begun yet and you both are overworked already.”
“Well, as Sho-chan always says, we can always sleep later,” Aiba says, “and everything is on schedule, so that’s good.”
“Good then,” Nino absently replies. Yamada-chan is pointing at him, before Ohno-sensei speaks again in low voice. He can’t hear anything, so he keeps on standing, waiting for further instructions.
“How’s the crush going by the way?” Aiba asks, chuckling over his mug when he sees Nino rolls his eyes. “You should talk to him, you know. I think he wants to talk to you.”
“Can you just stop it with that word? And what good would it bring? I’m still going to be nervous.”
There’s genuine concern in Aiba’s voice. “I think he’s also nervous. You must be if this is your first production. We’re not exactly doing a normal film shoot after all. At least you two could be nervous together. That’d be nice.”
Nino was going to respond with a verbal jab or a nudge or a step on Aiba’s left sneaker but Yamada-chan beckons him to come closer, so he only hisses his answer and walks toward the table leaving Aiba with his steaming coffee.
“Yes?”
“Ohno-sensei has a problem with the color of corsage, but for rehearsal, we’re going to go with it anyway.” Yamada-chan reaches for his collar and fixes it, smoothing the creases.
“Okay.”
“So you’re all ready then,” she says. “I’ll be over there if you need me, Sensei.”
Ohno nods, and pats the chair beside him. “Have a seat.”
Nino sits and waits.
“So, you read the scene, right?” Ohno puts his camera down on the table, focusing on Nino now. “I want a full song. Can you do a full song?”
“Sure. What kind of song?”
Ohno stays silent for a while, humming as he gives the question a deep thought. Nino feels a surge of nostalgia all of a sudden, the thrumming excitement of finally being back on camera, given the chance to act out a story, being in Ohno’s work, and this time it’s even in a more important role than being the bikini girls’ assistant—
“Something seductive?” Ohno finally decides.
“Sorry?”
“Something melodious that you think will attract the man you love to enter your honey trap.”
Nino frowns for a while, searching his memory for a particular song that could fit that absurd description; he learned during his first project with Ohno that there’s nothing too ridiculous for the man. It’s rather scary to realize that he’s not even flinching at such directions. “I don’t think there’s any in particular. Do you need the lyrics too?”
“No, no lyrics, that’d be too much. A melody?”
“I can try to play something sultry. Some high notes with a slow tempo.”
“Good. We’ll try that,” Ohno says, nodding his agreement. “What I want to is mostly to work on your posture. We’ll be using a grand piano later, so keep that in mind. There’ll be some adjustments, but you know how that works, right?”
“Yes, Sensei. Matsu-nii CGI?”
Ohno chuckles. “Can’t work on a film without his help, really.”
“I got it.”
“Good. Stand by at the stool, will you? We’ll be right there.”
“Okay.”
The moment he sits down, the sensation comes back at him in waves; being under the spotlight—especially by a keyboard, which he imagines as a grand piano after all, emptying his mind and channeling the longing that reflects in his eyes, wondering when the man he’s been waiting for will walk through the door.
“The door is over there.” Ohno points to the left side of the stage. He now hovers close, camera in hand, and assistant right behind him. “Slouch a bit but keep your head off the keys, staring straight.” He gives instruction after instruction. “Yes, like that. Keep it like that and play.”
Nino complies.
Part 2
alternatejessFrom:
gomushroomTitle: Practice (Technicality) on Your Heart
Pairing/Focus: Nino/Jun
Rating: PG-13
Warning: None
Summary: Nino co-stars with Matsumoto in an Ohno-Sensei art house film production.
Notes: Dear,
alternatejess, You really got me at your “Nino as an (struggling) real actor who stars in indie/arthouse films which no one understands” prompt. I originally wanted to write one kiss scene, but then it exploded into this wordy story. I hope you'll enjoy this! ;) And thank you Miss M and the awesome nino_mod for all the cheers and support ♥!The man has been the latest sensation in the business, especially with his double hits, Into This Quiet Night, a modern dramatic romance with a glint of horror released as a popular web-series, and Rain, a noir musical feature film about bikini-clad female superheroes from the future; reviewers called them daring and uncanny masterpieces. Both are said to be offering fresh renditions of the overexploited genres, making Ohno-sensei the hot topic of the conversation around Shitamachi; he also seems to have a penchant for unusual—both camera and narrative—framing, whatever that means. Rumor has it that he doesn’t let anyone handle the story—sometimes there’s no script. Amateur local actors that have worked with him rave about the man, saying that they never imagined they could gain such precious experience, that the man has vision like all the greatest directors do, that he’s difficult to work with but it’s worth every ounce of your patience because he’s just that good.
Not that Nino cared in the first place, not until Aiba called saying he and Sho were now working on another Ohno-sensei project, asking whether he’s interested in going to an audition.
Of course, he’s interested; his last experience with the bikini-girls was mind-blowing enough to get him excited for a few others.
For all the complaints he threw at Aiba after the last short film project—how it didn’t pay the rent, how Ohno-sensei was sometimes absurdly unconventional, how he didn’t like the story, how he knew he should’ve chosen a better project—Nino does enjoy the hardship of being a lowly actor, no firm strings attached, for the sake of ‘art’; it keeps him busy for a period of time and Aiba doesn’t bother him with constant demands about another project.
Of course, he would have chosen a stage play role over a film role anytime of the year, but, as Sho is constantly reminding him, a struggling actor can’t be a chooser. “We’re nobodies, Nino, that’s just the way it is. If I have to kiss some temperamental director’s ass, maybe you should do it too and be more flexible about accepting the work you get.” Or if Nino has any more complaints, Sho just insists that he should reminisce about their younger days when they were still working for a hopeless and lame kabuki troupe, those smelly old men and all. That always shuts him up fast.
Nino opens the door and finds they are already waiting for him.
Ohno-sensei—the small figure sitting beside work-mode Sho, wearing reading glasses, surrounded by scattered paper and his thick memo books—doesn’t look up from reading a document. Nino heads straight to the lone chair in the middle of the meeting room of their production office and takes a seat.
Nothing for five full minutes, just Nino trying not to fidget in his seat, Sho writing things at full speed, and Ohno-sensei staring at a piece of paper.
“Can you play the piano? It says so here in your file.”
The first—and only—question, delivered in a soft tone without having Ohno-sensei even look up and meet his gaze, startles Nino.
Unsure of how this will work out to his benefit, he doesn’t lace his answer with any other information. “Yes.”
Ohno-sensei looks up to meet his gaze, holding the stare for a while. It isn’t enough time to school his expression into something mild, and not full of questions and confusion; Nino can only stare back.
A small smile blooms on Ohno-sensei’s face, and before Nino can reply it, the man says, “Okay, Sho-chan, he’ll do. Looking forward to work with you again, Nino.”
A ‘huh’ comes out of reflex, earning Nino a glare from Sho across the room, silently asking him to keep his manners in check. But he needs to ask. “But you haven’t seen me play,” he says, confused, “or act the script.”
“I don’t have to.” Ohno takes one look at him, sending him that small smile again, one quirk at the corner of his lips with knowing eyes, before standing up and walks toward the door. “I should go meet Aiba-chan and ask him to get a white grand piano ready. Sho-chan, I’ll leave the rest to you.”
“Sure, Sensei.” Sho stands to bow to Ohno-sensei before, quickly, turning to Nino, holding both his hands in front of him to keep Nino from firing another question. “Just wait.”
The door closes behind Ohno-sensei.
It’s only when he gets home from his audition that Nino remembers the single page of script he received from the production office. He realizes that Ohno-sensei didn’t even bring it up at all.
INT. DIM BEDROOM. NAKED - NIGHT
EXTREME CLOSE UP. A pair of lips lock. Audible panting. Forehead against forehead. Close. Sharing air.
Eyes closed, Nino sighs heavily and sets his mind on restarting the image from the first frame. Whose bedroom? His? His partner’s? And he is not—definitely not—going to get over the ‘naked’ part. How naked it is going to be? Half naked? All naked? Physically naked? Mentally naked? And if it’s mentally, what the hell is that supposed to mean? He almost wishes he could edit the whole thing, or at least ask for adequate preparation to approach the scene one line at a time. While focusing on the details for the setting first, he won’t go on to read the second, and so on. Not to mention the other images, even more mind-blowing. Lips. A pair of lips—he knows it’s going to involve a partner. Bloody hell. And having been around, he knows that when a script says extreme close up, it will be terribly extreme. Else, they would have used the usual term, CU for close up, and ended things at that. No need to be detailed, no need to be so close, no need to fill the film with intricate details of, in this case, a pair of lips. Puckered lips to land over other puckered lips, and to have it invade the frame, filling the entire screen with lips—.
Then his phone buzzes in his pocket, startling the hell out of him. Opening his eyes, Nino straightens his feet, taking the chance to finally lie on his back against the carpet of his living room floor, hands going through his pocket to fish out his phone.
“Hello?”
“Good afternoon,” a deep voice greets him on the end of the line. “I’m trying to reach Ninomiya Kazunari. This is Sakurai Sho from the Puru Puru Simpuru production office. Now, regarding your shooting schedule, I am calling to infor—“
Rolling his eyes, Nino cannot hold in his chuckles. “That company name is just too hilarious. What is it, Sho-chan?”
“Ninomiya-san, I am calling on behalf of the—“ Sho sighs audibly before he begins to whisper. “I was trying to do this the right way, okay? Work with me here.”
“By being so formal all of a sudden?”
“By doing this by the book.”
“You just startled me out of my complicated scene training at a crucial moment.” Nino rolls to the side and his back is crying a bit from the sudden movement, reminding him that he has been crouching the whole morning. “What is it then? Did I get the part or not?”
“Nino,” Sho says, a little squeaky this time. “Why do you have to ruin the fun?”
“Because you ruined my fun first?”
“I certainly did not. This is the middle of a workday. For those who’re working, that is. Not that I’m responsible for you not having work at this time of day.”
“So I didn’t get the part.”
“That’s not what I said,” Sho replies, a beat too fast. “I was just trying to say that you—“
“Got the part?”
There’s no sound except Sho’s huffing from the end of the line and Nino can clearly imagine Sho pouting, hunched toward his computer screen, cursing internally. That very image brings a smile on his face, knowing that his guess is spot on.
“Come on, Sho-chan. Stop being such a tight-ass and just spill the good news.”
“Fine,” Sho replies. “First, stop making comments about my ass. And second, you got the part. Congratulations. Happy now?”
The smile blooms into a wide grin. Nino lets out a small ‘woohoo’ before rolling himself on the carpet, running into a stack of his books with his left leg and crushing his right arm uncomfortably.
“I take it that you’re happy since I could clearly hear your ‘woohoo’.”
“Woohoo!”
“Like I said, I heard that already. Now, can I get your attention back so I can inform you of your schedule?”
“Who’s the other one?” Ignoring Sho’s question, a muffled sound comes out of his mouth, currently fixed against the soft carpet.
“You’re definitely ruining the fun for me.”
“Who is it?”
“I am tempted to not tell just to get back at you for being a not-fun person.”
“I thought this was about work. Isn’t it against your policy to mix fun with work?”
“I should’ve listened to Aiba-chan and let him handle your schedule.”
“That you probably should have. But I’ll find out sooner or later. Both your notoriously rigid schedule and the info about my co-star. Just tell me already.”
“Now you’re just bragging. We all know that this is a film production but it doesn’t mean that you can start calling Matsumoto your co-star all of a sudden. We here don’t really use the term co-star as much as—“ Sho stops talking abruptly, both from the realization that he just mentioned the name Nino was asking for and hearing Nino’s laughter on the other end of the line. “Oh, fuck you.”
The laughter intensifies.
“I am serious here. I really hate you right now.”
“I know, Sho-chan. I hate you too. So, who’s this Matsumoto guy?”
Giving up entirely, Sho caves. “Some guy Ohno-sensei scouted. He’s new. I don’t know, I’ve never worked with him or heard of him. You can probably nag Aiba-chan about this because he’s in charge of the guy. Plus, I’m not telling. I just don’t know much about him so spare me the questions.”
“Sure. And I can safely assume you’re not coming over for dinner. With all the extra work?”
“At least put in some effort if you’re truly inviting me for dinner.” Another sigh. “I’ll email you the schedule then. It’s better than calling you and not even getting a—“
“Thank you, Sho-chan,” Nino says softly, silencing Sho immediately. He can see Sho’s pout slowly break into a satisfied smile. “Now go phone and bother someone else.”
Sho doesn’t say anything back and just cuts the line after that, leaving Nino cackling to himself in his dark living room.
“So how does he look?”
Aiba only laughs at his question, swinging the grocery bag toward Nino who’s been waiting as he settles down by the door to take off his boots.“Could you at least let me make it to your kitchen safely?”
“No.”
“Give me that,” Aiba says, standing up and grabbing the bag back before shouldering his way to Nino’s kitchen. “I’m starving.”
“Well, me too. But you can always talk while getting some food ready.”
“You’re being overly suspicious about this Matsumoto guy. Sho-chan already told me about his blabbing to you this afternoon so you know his name already. What you don’t know is?”
“The rest of the important information.”
“Perhaps I also won’t tell.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t pull a Sho-chan on me.”
“Perhaps I would if you asked nicely,” Aiba says. He begins to unload the bag as Nino settles across him at the counter. Tonight it’s going to be simple, just dump some vegetables out, get the potatoes he stored at Nino’s fridge few days back, and mix them all in with his mother’s recipe for home-made mayonnaise. Nothing fancy, and more importantly, it’s fast and has vegetables in it.
Aiba begins to cut the cucumber and then moves on to sprinkling salt and pepper on the microwave-heated mashed potatoes, while keeping Nino waiting just a bit longer. “I don’t know why you’re so excited about this new guy. Was it because Sho-chan’s being so secretive all of a sudden and you’re just teasing him?”
“I am curious. I’ve never heard of him, and Ohno-sensei scouted him.”
“Ah, that was the problem, right?”
“That’s not what I mean. I think I can say I know almost everyone. Arthouse doesn’t really have a broad network to begin with, and Shimokitazawa is definitely not that large.”
“You wouldn’t know the guy if he works in mainstream entertainment.”
“Nah. That wouldn’t be possible. Anyone who’s gone mainstream wouldn’t want to feature in Sensei’s work.”
“You got it wrong. It’s the other way around. Sensei wouldn’t want that person in his work.”
“So this Matsumoto is definitely not from mainstream then.”
“It’s really terrifying to witness your brain work that fast. I hope you don’t break Sho-chan too much this time,” Aiba says, shrugging good-naturedly as he pours the miso and broth into the pan he set up on the kitchen counter. “He never stands a chance against you.”
Nino presses on, ignoring the additional comment from Aiba. “And then? What else do you know about him?”
“Since you asked nicely.” Aiba shrugs at the tone, and focusing on the now mayonnaise and putting the dish together. “Not much actually.”
“But enough to give me the basics, right?”
“You are persistently persistent. Why is it, actually? It’s not like you are going to—“ Aiba’s hand stop mid-mix. He puts the bowl and his wooden spoon down slowly, keeping sharp eye contact with Nino. “I’ll be damned.”
For all his persistence, Nino knows when he needs to lie low and retreat. He tries his best innocent smile before answering, “Hmm?”
“Seriously?” Aiba starts to laugh, with his hiccup giggles in the middle, resulting in Nino failing to keep his innocent expression.
Time to retreat, and to play innocent, because apparently Aiba can read him like a book—a fact that he would hate if it didn’t also work the other way around. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m sure you do. It’s that scene, the scene, which Sho-chan said Ohno-sensei refers to as the scene to end all scenes. Whatever that means. I can’t believe you took Sho-chan’s comments seriously.” Shaking his head lightly, Aiba swallows his giggles slowly before reaching for the bowl and going back to mixing his salad.
He’s halfway turning from the cabinet to get the plates out when Nino decides that maybe it’s a lost battle this time. “Fine. Fine! If you’re not going to tell me, then you're not going to tell me. Can you just please hurry with the food then, I’m starving.”
“Mhmm, self-defence. Always so cute.”
Nino flushes at the off-hand comment. It’s never his intention to get into wordplay with Aiba because no matter how it turns out, the man can really hold his ground around him. He learned a long time ago that it’s never easy to get information from Aiba, especially when it concerns their work.
“Even cuter.” Aiba throws his failed wink toward him as he slides the plate to Nino’s side with a laugh, clearly noticing the flush. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, really.”
This time it’s Nino’s turn to pout, no better than Sho’s this afternoon.
“You brought this upon yourself, after all.”
“And I’m regretting every moment of it.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“Will you give me the info now that you know I’m regretting it?”
“Perhaps I will. If you eat your vegetables, I will tell you all I know about this Matsumoto guy.”
“If.”
“Yes, if. Let’s make it good and finish the whole dish this time?”
“I know this is a scheme to make me eat any green thing, but I might overlook that because my curiosity is killing me.”
“Your curiosity is always killing you so that won’t be a problem.”
“No need to be mean, Aiba-chan.”
Aiba hands him a fork. “Go ahead.”
Nino accepts it and begins to poke his plate. “There are an awful lot of green things in this.”
“Which need to be consumed fast before their water starts to ooze out and ruin my salad.”
“That’s just disgusting,” he says, although with a pout he then takes a small bite. “Happy now?”
Aiba lets out a small ‘yay’ at that.
“I take it that you’re happy since I’m totally getting your annoying ‘yay.’”
“Yay!”
“So start talking or I’m going to stop eating this disgusting stuff.”
“That disgusting stuff is good for you, you know.” Aiba shifts his own plate closer and begin munching. “What do you want to know about this Matsumoto anyway?”
At such a direct question, Nino finds himself questioning his own question. “Anything. Anything that would help.”
“That he’s not from mainstream?”
“I already deduced that much.”
“And yet you keep on pushing.” Aiba replies easily as he takes another bite of the salad, savoring the flavour. “I don’t think I have much on him though. All I can tell you is what his CV said about him, which I happened to read this afternoon because Sho-chan insisted on pulling it out of the drawer. For you, if I have to guess. He was going to blab all the details himself soon, I’m sure. You should’ve been patient and waited for him to call you back.”
“I have you right here, right now.”
“That’s very sweet of you,” Aiba says, with a small smile and a wave of a hand.
Nino snorts at that, refusing to be distracted from his main intentions. “Aiba-chan, I’ve almost finished half of this and you haven’t given me anything.”
“I gave you food, good food that shouldn’t be left to waste.” Aiba on the other side of the counter has finished his salad and in dumping more spoonful scoops from the bowl onto his plate. “He’s striking though.”
Nino sighs heavily. While he knows Aiba is probably saying so to get back at him for being a nag, he trusts Aiba when it comes to a ‘striking’ comment. It doesn’t come out easy from him, a ‘striking’ comment, so the man is probably striking as he says. And Nino hates himself now that they’re talking about ‘striking’ and the only image that comes to mind is a topless Aiba. What’s that all about, really?
Or perhaps topless Matsumoto is an even better image? After all, Aiba said ‘striking’ so perhaps that’s good for now.
“Don’t you have any other information? Any that will come in handy?”
“I though that was useful,” Aiba says. He waves his spoon toward Nino. “You would want to know that, right? Even if that fact will make you even more self-conscious.”
“Am not.”
Aiba laughs. “Oh, this is going to be a good production, I just know it. Sho-chan will fly off the fucking handle as usual. And Sensei will bring those weird visions alive—as usual.”
Nino knows when to stop prodding, so he does. He’d not getting anything else from Aiba—without having to eat another dish of green things. What worries him is that he probably will chew on celery sticks if Aiba asks him to just for a sliver of probably more useless info.
He can always do his own research on the side, can’t he?
What he called research—involving asking around to old friends in the business and a hesitant Google search—doesn’t yield much, that he knows. And he’s one step closer to wrecking his nerves, he blurts out without realizing, only a second too late, since that definitely catches Yuriko’s attention.
“That was rare of you. I didn’t know that you got this nervous over a production,” she says, her price tagger moving at constant speed as she reaches for more and more bags of chips.
Nino sends her a sullen look from across the small stock room. “I’m not that nervous.”
“Yes you are,” she replies easily, “or else you would’ve been done tagging those bags of chips ten minutes ago. You’re working so slowly today.”
He looks down to see the box of potato chips still half full, the price tagger hanging idly in his hand, and he can’t comment further. The conversation had started off light when Yuriko asked him about his schedule for next month, since he’s going to be away for a production. He should have known that her listening to him rant away the worry doesn’t equal her sympathizing any more.
“Maybe I am,” Nino says, “maybe I’m not.”
“Anyway, is this going to be that long period of production, like the one you had last year? If so, I need you to tell me in advance. It’s hard enough to find new people these days, so I want to be prepared.”
“Two months.”
“Full? You can’t even take a single shift during those months?” Yuriko sets aside her empty chips box before reaching for the next box, full of cup ramen this time.
“I guess not.”
“And you expect us to be here when you come back, with open arms, saving your lousy combini shift so you can go back to be a commoner after your trip to the clouds?”
“Yuriko-chan, no one wants the job anyway. It’s, your word not mine, lousy.” Nino says, with a warm tone. They’ve done this before and it’s always entertaining all the same. “I’m sure the job will still be available when I’m back.”
“If you come back, that is. Who knows? You’ll probably get some lucrative offers on the way and refuse to come back to your old work place, claiming trauma and office bullying.” Yuriko shifts her price tagger and empty boxes aside. “Okay, I’m done. And you really are slow today.”
Attempting to catch some more speed with tagging, Nino accidentally topples the stack of empty cartons he has set aside. “Oh shut up, boss.”
“Well, now that I have time,” she says, straightening her feet within the available space and leaning back on the supply shelves behind her, “you can go on with your story of being nervous.”
Nino punches the tag a bit roughly, causing the bag he’s holding to slip out of his hands. “I’m not nervous, okay?”
“Okay, you’re not nervous. Not nervous at all. Then?”
“I don't’ know why I’m talking about this with you.”
“Mhmm, I don’t know. Perhaps because Aiba-chan and Sho-kun are not being, your word not mine, cooperative.” She ends the sentence with one of her scariest smiles.
“That’s very helpful.”
“Anything for my lousy combini work partner,” she replies dryly. “Now, stop beating around the bush and let me know why you’re nervous about this production—that hasn’t even started yet—and how you’re so antsy about this Matsumoto guy—that you haven’t even met.”
The sullen look comes back to his face. “I’m not nervous. Nor antsy.”
“And you said I was helpful.” She rolls her eyes and sighs heavily, folding her arms in front of her before sending Nino a sceptical glare. She stands up and heads to the door. “I should go back. I don’t trust Ryo-chan for longer than an hour. I hope he hasn’t destroyed the store.”
Nino hums his acknowledgement. The moment has passed—and what did he expect anyway? Circling around the matter at hand or not, he can’t bring himself to answer to the questions she posed earlier. Just another layer to add to his helpless nervousness—just wait, he keeps telling himself, just wait till you find out more to tell.
Yuriko stops at the door and turns to him before she steps out. “I’ll be behind the counter if you need to talk about that nervousness.”
He nods silently: it’s an open offer, her message crystal clear. He might take her up on it someday.
He doesn’t expect a formal introduction party to start off the production. No one in their lowly business circle, as far as he knows, has the time or money to arrange such festivities. But when Sho told him that he should come by the office before he goes to his fitting session, he wasn’t expecting everyone from their small production team—Sho and Aiba, and Ohno, and a sparkly guy, along with two other guys, one he recognized from a previous short project, Takeda-san, if he’s not mistaken, and a woman, perhaps some other art department person, judging from the oversized shirt she wears, from the Into the Quiet Night Team. That’s all you’re getting—gathered in the small room to hold a formal introduction, not a party of course, meeting. There are still chairs and desks and work papers all over the room so it isn’t enough to be considered party—but it is close, since everyone is there.
Including that Matsumoto guy.
Including that Matsumoto guy who is chatting with Ohno-sensei with poised ease, towering over the small man—and who by deduction, will tower over him too—wearing, from what he can tell, a sweet, fond expression on his face.
He senses Aiba approaching. “Is that—?”
“Glad to see you could make it to the party even if you’re terribly late. Sho-chan was worried you’d skip this one.” Aiba pats him on the shoulder as a greeting. He stands by Nino, sipping his coffee lazily. “You’re blocking the door, by the way.”
“He is good-looking. Strikingly, annoyingly, amazingly good-looking.”
Aiba turns to Nino, chuckling lightly at the sight of him staring openly at the man across the room.
“I’m doomed.”
“Yes, you are.” Aiba smiles at that, a little bit too happy for being the sole witness of Nino’s surprise. They are standing right by the door, not actually blocking it but very close to preventing anyone from trying to go through. “And we are blocking the door now.”
“How am I supposed to go over there, introduce myself?” Nino murmurs to himself. “And was that—?”
Aiba turns his gaze to follow Nino’s focus: Matsumoto is chuckling over something Ohno-sensei has just said, causing them both to close their distance, whispering about what seems to be a secret they refuse to share with the rest of the world.
Nino feels himself burning, rooted to his spot, realizing that Aiba is aiming amused, utterly amused, stares at him, but his gaze stays on the man across the room. “I’m going to punch that talented director if I find out that he’s sleeping with that new guy he scouted personally.”
“Very violent for an awe-at-first-sight declaration, I’ll say. You have nothing to worry about though. If Ohno-sensei ever has time to sleep these days, he’s going to be out cold within minutes. The guy works too much.”
Ignoring too much information about Ohno—when all he wants is information about the other guy—Nino elbows Aiba’s side, missing his mark since his aim is not accurate and he ends up delivering a weak nudge instead. Across the room, Matsumoto laughs over Ohno-sensei’s—what Nino could only hope is a—terrible joke. “I’m so doomed.”
“That’s twice. Let me get Sho-chan and a video camera. You can achieve a triple then.”
“That’s not nice of you.” Nino finally shifts a bit, closing his distance with Aiba, only to get a better angle of the two men across the room who have moved along toward the window and are having what he can as assume is a more serious conversation now—at least he can set the plan to punch Ohno-sensei aside, now that he doesn’t appear as smooch-y as before.
“There’s no need to be nice to you. In fact, I’m going to get very not nice and tease you to infinity.”
“That’s definitely not nice. I haven’t even talked to him, struck a boring conversation or just seen his striking face up close.”
“It’s incredible what a page of script can do to ruin your sanity. If I hadn’t already known that Sensei is a genius, I’d be proclaiming it now. You literally have hearts in your eyes.”
“How the hell am I going to get naked with a guy like that?” Nino ignores the teasing—for now—and mumbles to himself; Aiba hears him clearly all the same.
“Good job on finally saying that concern out loud, yet we’re still blocking the door,” Aiba says, sparing him the teasing—for now—and ushering them farther into the room. “Let’s get you all introduced. And then I should really get Sho-chan because he must have thought of this moment and readied a camera somewhere in the room for the moment we have all waiting for.”
“I really hate you two right now.”
He can only blame the page of the script—and Ohno-sensei, by extension—for the fact that the moment he steps into the space he’s been observing, his gaze goes directly to Matsumoto’s lips. Such lush lips, finally, up close. Dammit.
And Aiba—Nino swears that he’s going to get even with that teasing jerk—chooses the worst timing to push him lightly into the space, causing him to stumble ungracefully forward and disrupting what seems to be an amiable chat between Ohno-sensei and Matsumoto.
“Oh, Nino.” Ohno-sensei notices him first, only a mere half-second before Matsumoto has his gaze on him. “Glad to see you’re here. Sho-chan said you might not make it.”
Straightening himself out as fast as he can, even the effort is futile, Nino offers a small awkward smile to Ohno-sensei, and he saves turning to Matsumoto for the next part of their introduction. “I tried.”
“He sure did,” Aiba adds, offering his own big smile to ease the awkwardness.
Ohno-sensei smiles at that but—as Nino can see clearly, now that he turns his attention to the man he’s been curious about for a month, now that he has his answer right in front of him, in the flesh—Matsumoto only stares at him, pursing those lips, raising his eyebrows in question.
“I see we’ve all met,” Ohno-sensei says, breaking the short silence. “If that’s all,” he says, turning to Aiba, “I really need to get back to my drawing.”
Matsumoto cuts Aiba off before he can respond. “All? I thought we were expecting more people.”
“Nope, this is about all of us. Food is over on the table, and we cannot offer anything but coffee. It’s hot and a little bit better than instant drinks though, so help yourself.” Aiba replies promptly this time, scanning the room before pointing at the coffee table in the corner. “And Sensei, thank you. You can go back to work if you need to.”
“That’d be best.” Ohno-sensei’s expression brightens up a bit. He turns to Matsumoto to bow slightly. “I’ll see you later, Matsumoto-kun.” Then he turns to Nino, giving the same slight bow to excuse himself. “I’ll see you later, Nino-chan.”
Nino bows back and steps aside to give way for Ohno-sensei. Aiba follows him, but not before giving a failed wink over his shoulder to Nino and nodding to Matsumoto. They’re gone in a flash, leaving the two of them in the corner of the room.
Now what?
EXTREME CLOSE UP.
Nino is the first to recover. “We haven’t been properly introduced,” he says, holding out a hand, offering a smile.
He takes a good look at Matsumoto’s face, his expression, the quirk of his lips, those plush lips—his stare seems to always veer back to them—the sharp eyebrows and, now that he’s getting a closer look--thanks to proximity, Aiba-chan and all that—he can start seeing broad shoulders under the white striped shirt he’s wearing, leading down to his broad chest. With his mind trying futilely to adjust the bright light from the tall window into slight dimness, he squints a little bit and gradually aims his gaze lower, down to the third button, fourth button, fifth—.
“You’re staring,” Matsumoto says, with a slight hint of amusement, “at me.”
“I am,” Nino says, letting his sentence hanging. He’s not going to apologize for staring at his co-star. At least he’s firm on that; it worth the obvious amusement. But it may be rude to continue; he’ll have time later anyway. He looks up to meet Matsumoto’s eyes, smiling brightly and ignoring the image starting to bloom in his head, of the white shirt falling off that body. He corrects himself, “I was.”
Matsumoto chuckles at that. “Thank you?”
“Your welcome,” Nino replies, chuckling himself. “We were trying to introduce ourselves to each other, right?”
“Right.”
“I will probably do that a lot from now on. Just saying.” Nino shifts a bit, now trying to concentrate on Matsumoto’s hair instead of lowering his gaze back down, which looks a little bit weird in his opinion. Are those styled locks? He doesn’t know, probably doesn’t want to know. It looks good on Matsumoto though, he has to give it to him, because when the man moves his head just a little bit, those locks move with it. Some loose fringe falls toward his forehead, just above the sharp brows, which now Nino realizes are neatly trimmed and—.
“You are staring again.”
“Ah, guilty.” Nino’s right hand goes up to cover his mouth. “Second time in one afternoon is probably out of line. I’m sorry.”
“You’re a bit weird,” Matsumoto says, smile even wider now.
At that very moment, Nino makes a mental note to keep on staring at him a lot just to see his smile bloom like that; it is strikingly gorgeous, which is an advantage of being so close, but not that close, well, close enough for now. He wouldn’t attempt to be even closer, not before he can be sure that he won’t embarrass himself by stuttering, frozen on the spot, or the worst case, blushing profusely. These few minutes have been a good test; as he’s found out, he’s not going to do all of those embarrassing acts by being close, within talking distance. He hopes that by the time that scene comes, he’ll be better at this. He really hopes he’ll be better at this because—he’s damn sure Aiba-chan will bring this up later—awe-at-first-sight has turned up a notch into something else, something he hasn’t named yet—but he’s damn sure Aiba-chan will gladly give this a name anyway.
But for now, he keeps on staring shamelessly. “Yeah, I get that a lot. My name is Ninomiya. Everyone calls me Nino.”
“It’s an honor for me to work with Ohno-sensei. I hope we can get along fine during the production, and—“ Matsumoto holds his hand out, adding what Nino will remember for a long time as a Matsumoto-gag, “—and call me Jun.”
Later that night, Nino brings the matter up, fully amused. “What was that? Was he already drunk or something at that time of day?”
“I don’t think so,” Sho replies before stuffing in another mouthful of rice. “He said the exact same thing during the first meeting. That was how he introduced himself, I guess.”
“Not very bright, perhaps.” Nino gives a few nods at his own conclusion.
For all his being easy, Sho knows when to deliver a jab. “Well, no problem for me. I’m not the one who’s going to get naked with him.”
“Oh, shut up.” Nino could only flush before barrelling on with new questions. “How does he react on the page? How did his audition go? You must know more than you’re letting on. Come on!”
Sho throws a worried glance across the table where Aiba just shrugs and decides that it’s the perfect time to finish their shared gyoza plate off.
“I thought this was a celebration dinner, not an interrogation. I’m paying the bill so could you spare me the questioning. Go bother Aiba-chan.”
“I’d say you are pulling a Sho-chan on me for not being fun. But you are Sho-chan, so that nullifies everything.”
It’s Sho’s fourth sigh of the night and they haven’t even ordered the ice cream yet. “You’re going to find out yourself in two days. When you have the courage to ask him yourself. There. What’s the hurry?” Sho sighs for the fifth time. “And can we just enjoy dinner? It has been a long while since I’ve had time to actually sit in a restaurant and look at the food in front of me instead of my screen. And I won’t have time in the next two months, so please let me savor this.”
Nino considers the reasoning for a while before he glances toward Aiba, who’s still busy chewing down their shared gyoza one after another, and then back to Sho, who has ignored him completely in favor of wolfing down his hot ramen. What a helpless pair of overworked friends, he thinks fondly. “Okay. I can wait for two days. I have a script to memorize after all.”
Even with all the food in his mouth, chopsticks shoving in more noodles without altering his pace, Sho makes an effort to wave a thumbs-up. Nino lets the matter slide, for now. Production starts in two days. He’ll have plenty of time by then.
Nino is the first to enter the room. They are using the same meeting room; or perhaps, just as Nino had guessed, the office doesn’t have that many meeting rooms. More square tables and chairs are placed in the middle, along with the same table that holds the coffee machine. It’s as sparse as sparse can be; Nino isn’t expecting anything fancy to begin with—business rule #1: one can certainly tell what the scale of a production will be by the way they are feeding their crew.
Sho comes in right behind him, arms full with a stack of files and a small laptop perched on top of it. “Oh hey, you’re here already.”
“Yeah. I’m early, sorry for that.”
“No problem. I still need to set things up but since you’re here you can grab some coffee.” Sho dumps the files on one of the side table, sighing. He pulls a chair out and starts to go through the files in no time. “Make it two, if you’re going for it. I haven’t had any intake in the last hour.”
“Shooting hasn’t even begun yet and you’re already overdosed on coffee.”
Sho doesn’t even spare him a look, diving right into sorting his files and restarting his laptop. “I’m still safely within my daily limit. And knowing that the limit is going to be crushed to pieces within a few days actually excites me.”
Nino chuckles at the sudden unprompted confession. He cannot blame Sho for being excited at time like this; he is equally excited. He leaves sugar out of both their cups and heads back to the table to sit beside him. Sho welcomes his coffee with light “thank you” and goes back to his laptop screen. Nino sits idly, trying not to glance every other while toward the door, just focusing on the shutter windows across of him. Following Aiba who’s carrying what appears to be few copies of the script, Ohno-sensei enters next.
“Good afternoon,” Ohno-sensei says, before heading to the head of the table and taking a seat. He looks around, sending small smile to Nino before muttering softly. “We’re still waiting for some people, then?”
“Yes. Takeda-san and Matsumoto will be here shortly,” Aiba replies, settling himself across Nino and Sho, setting the books aside and rummaging through his bag to get his notebook out and ready.
“Okay.”
Just as Ohno finishes answering, Matsumoto comes through the door, followed by Takeda-san and the art department woman Nino saw at last week’s party.
“Oh, there you are,” Aiba says, welcoming them with a smile. He pats the chair next to him for Matsumoto so Takeda and the woman can take the seats at the far end of the table.
“Hello,” Matsumoto says, greeting Aiba before aiming his gaze across the table to meet Nino. “Hello.”
Nino only nods, trying to not to smile. It’s time to get serious after all—business rule #2: No matter how good friends you are (or how hard your so-called crush is) work always comes first. Just as Takeda settles in his chair, with perfect timing, Sho looks up to scan the room, noting that everyone is ready to begin.
“Where’s everybody? I thought we were still expecting more people,” Nino hears Matsumoto whisper to Aiba across from him.
Aiba’s reply also comes in a whisper. “All of us here is everybody.”
Ohno looks up from his paper, filled with what Nino can make out as sketches, lots of pencil sketches. He apparently heard what Matsumoto was asking Aiba and voices his answer. “Unlike your photo shoots, my production doesn’t involve a lot of people.”
Nino frowns at the statement. Photo shoots? Matsumoto is a model? He was paired with a model? Which explains why Matsumoto looks—he hates the word but—well groomed. It seems to fit the man. The stance, the pose, the look, the stare, the air, the amateur feeling, the freshness, the—
What Ohno-sensei says next startles him out of his thoughts. “And can we start the meeting now, Sho-kun? Takeda-san and Yamada-chan are here now.”
“Of course,” Sho replies.
Nino pulls his script out of his bag, setting it in front of him. It’s the norm (or what people say is business rule #3, but he won’t quote himself on that) after all to bring his to a production meeting. Even if he doesn’t have any pressing questions about the content, he needs to be able to consult (and make notes on) his copy when necessary. He can easily steal one of Sho’s fancy pens if he needs to. Yet, it’s almost never necessary. Production teams will get into heated arguments and throw each other countless suggestions. There will be numerous revisions all over the timelines, all over the directions, all over the details.
But not on this one. Ohno-sensei likes his productions to run smoothly, or more precisely, he leaves everything in Sho’s hands. With the help of Aiba, he’ll have his own freedom and all Nino has to do is to work his best.
Somehow, Matsumoto doesn't know about this yet. All serious across the table, the man has his notebook ready, making small notes all over, following Sho’s detailed explanation of the schedule, making more small notes, stretching his legs under the table right across him—that’s nice a pair of sneakers by the way—making more and more small notes.
“We’ll be stretching the second part of the Yokohama studio shoot for few days. It should give you the time span you requested, Sensei,” Sho says, pausing his reading to turn toward Ohno.
Ohno nods. “Thanks.”
“And it should give us a few more days for the Tokyo team to get ready,” Sho continues, turning to Yamada-chan.
“Great. That should be enough for us.” Yamada-chan scribbles down some notes. “Thank you, Sho-kun.”
“We then can move to the Tokyo outdoor part. Aiba-chan can explain rest of the rough time estimate,” Sho says, looking up from his screen to signal to Aiba to continue with the explanation.
“We have accommodated both your last-minute requests and fit them onto the master schedule,” Aiba says, seamlessly keeping the rhythm Sho has set, to both the art department chiefs. “We’re going to have a few off days for both Nino and Matsumoto. It’s all on this new copy of the schedule,” Aiba passes a piece of paper to Matsumoto, while Sho gives one to Nino at the same time. “There should be enough detailed points for you at the moment. We’ll get you the day-to-day points every few days during the shooting period and—“
At this point, Nino drifts off from the conversation. He can still hear Aiba continuing with his explanation. He’ll get the details later, or if he needs it, he could always ask Aiba. He shifts his gaze to Matsumoto, who’s paying attention and still making small notes every once in a while. It’s mostly Sho and Aiba talking to Matsumoto anyway—because Nino already knows they are most likely going to have another last-minute change made to the detailed schedule; they always do. Nino notices that Ohno-sensei is fixated with his own doodles; Takeda and Yamada-chan are whispering to each other, perhaps having their own little scheduling meeting; and Sho and Aiba are getting so much better at working together, completing each other’s explanations, giving details based on their strong points (Sho on site-order and Aiba on dispatch, Sho on the minutia and Aiba on the unexpected). So far Nino has listened to a good production plan, and he’s in good hands. That’s enough for him.
Perhaps Matsumoto hasn’t been made aware of this, so nothing is enough for him. The small note taking is beginning to annoy him.
“And as a last point, Sensei, do you have anything else to add?” Aiba closes his explanation and turns to Ohno-sensei.
“When is the rehearsal again?”
“Next Saturday morning for Nino,” Sho answers promptly. He doesn’t need to check his file; he has everything memorized by now. “Sunday morning for Matsumoto, and then evening for both.”
“Okay. I’ll need—“ Ohno finally looks up from his doodles. He bites into the tip of his pencil before deciding what they will need for the weekend. “Takeda-san, I need a keyboard, or if you can a piano, for Saturday morning. Set it up for number 5.”
“Got it, Sensei. I’ll see what I can do about the piano, but a keyboard shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Good. We’re practicing that scene,” Ohno says before switching his gaze toward Nino.
Nino nods silently at the implied instructions.
“And full wardrobe for Sunday morning,” Ohno continues. “We’re doing number 15.”
“Yes, Sensei,” Yamada-chan answers, readily taking notes. “I’ll get them ready. Only Matsumoto?”
“Yes. And no need for extras, Sho-kun. It’s just rehearsal.”
“Okay.”
Ohno pauses for a while, sorting his thoughts openly, everyone else waiting patiently, before he adds, “And a bed for Sunday night.”
Nino can’t help but stiffen the moment he hears the word ‘bed’ come out of Ohno’s mouth. He was half-listening to the technical details, nothing that he needed to tune into though sometimes it’s useful to know nonetheless; Sho usually will keep him updated later or he can always check back with Aiba if he wants. But at the mention of the ‘bed’, the images he’s been so busy repressing for the last few weeks come back to mind. Lips. A pair of lips. His and, now he has the other owner of said lips sitting right in front him.
Nino glances quickly across the table and finds Matsumoto is staring at him openly this time. He turns his attention back to his hands in his lap right away, slumping his shoulders further, trying to not attract any attention because he is almost certain Aiba will notice if he’s paying any attention to Nino. Perhaps not, nothing to worry about, not now, because Aiba is busy with his notes and Ohno’s instructions.
He glances across the table again, quicker this time, and this time finds Matsumoto no longer starting in his direction, and furiously taking notes instead. Can it be that the man is nervous? Not as nervous as he is perhaps, but still nervous, even just a little bit. He doesn’t know how he should take the knowledge yet but at least it’s something to think about. He has till Sunday to prepare himself. He’d rather not spend more time in the room with Matsumoto than necessary right now—which makes him even more eager to check the script for its scene numbers, or wipe the sweat from his palms without Sho knowing. If he’s gotten the numbering correctly—plus there’s a bed, what else can that be—which he’s sure he did but there’s no harm in double-checking, they will definitely rehearse the bed scene on Sunday. He and Matsumoto will—sooner than he expected then. And if he’s gotten the hint correctly, Matsumoto is at the moment trying to decide whether he should talk to Nino or not. Nino doesn’t want that to happen right now.
“We’re doing number 9 then. Do we need full lighting, Sensei?” Takeda asks. “It’d be a bit difficult—“
“No need to splurge. We’ll be rehearsing some positioning and dialogue. I only need the bed, nothing else. Oh, a stand light will be enough, or something to enhance the flash.”
“I can get few stand lights for Sunday night. No problem.”
Sho writes a few more notes down. And so does Matsumoto, Nino notices. The man looks like a kid against a baseball fence, at the first school game. Someone needs to tell him that the game hasn’t even started yet—because Nino’s beginning to have doubts whether he’s nice enough to break the man’s bubble of excitement himself.
“And I’ll get the arrangements for the truck ready by tomorrow then,” Aiba says to Yamada-chan, already anticipating her question.
“Thanks. Let’s try Saturday morning,” she says.
“Consider it done.” Aiba sees that Sho’s taking notes and then turns again to Ohno. “Is there anything else, Sensei?” Aiba prompts him when Ohno seems like he’s still lost in his thoughts, not yet finished giving out instructions.
“Nothing on the schedule. Though,” Ohno says, “I’ll need new lenses, Sho-kun.”
“I’ll double check that order later,” Sho answers this time. “I guess the scheduling meeting is done then.” He turns his gaze to everyone on the room. “Do you have any questions?” he asks Matsumoto specifically.
Matsumoto shakes his head. “Nothing that I can think of.”
“Good. We’re done then,” Sho says, before turning to Nino. “You definitely don’t have any questions, right?”
“I might have,” Nino says. “But you’ll never know.”
“Great. I’ll text both of you,” Sho concludes quickly, gesturing to Nino and Matsumoto, “about your pick-up arrangements. I’ll see you this weekend.”
“Can Takeda-san and I go then?” Ohno says. “All my shooting plans are at my office, so if you don’t mind.”
“And I need to go to Yamada-chan’s office to approve the delivery details.”
“Meeting’s done then. Thank you everyone for coming. I’ll get those lens details to you this afternoon,” Sho says to the whole room and to Ohno. “And I think I forgot something. I need to send Nino and Matsumoto the previous memo. I’ll be with you in a minute, Aiba-chan.”
Nino puts his script back into his bag, straightening his posture and getting ready to leave.
“Let me send this email to both of you before you go,” Sho says, focus back on his laptop, fingers typing rapidly.
“Why do I have to wait for you to finish working first?” Nino says, slumping back against his chair.
He’s fully aware that it’s only Sho and him and Matsumoto—who’s still taking notes, seriously, what is he taking notes of?—left in the room now. He has a night shift in two hours, already thinking about getting some quick dinner and going through the script again before his shift begins. “I need to get to my shift. We’re all done here, right?”
“In a minute, Nino.”
Nearly half minute passes, and Nino stays in his chair, gaze fixed on his old jeans, his shoes, his bag, that nice a pair of sneakers under the opposite table. He fights the urge to look up because he knows he will find Matsumoto looking at him, he can feel it right now. The man will want to talk about it, and he doesn’t, so he waits.
“Okay, done. Just be sure to check the latest details I just sent you,” Sho says finally, “and you can go now. We’ll see you Saturday.”
“Finally.” With a relief, Nino bolts to the door and leaves the office as fast as he can.
“Why do you have to start on the weekend? You know how busy we are on weekends?”
“Not that busy,” Nino says, half-listening to the run-on light protests as he sorts the magazine rack. “And it wasn’t my decision, okay, so there’s that.”
Yuriko has been grumbling the whole week about his schedule, about his going away for too long, about Ryo-chan’s latest mishaps with the salad delivery, about a pack of stray puppies she found in a box on the way back to her apartment the day before yesterday, about everything that happened when Nino had a day off. It doesn’t seem to make any sense to him but he gratefully accepts the distraction, anything that can keep his mind off the upcoming rehearsal—after all it’s only a rehearsal. He still has to go through the whole two months of shooting, with the man he’s going to share a bed with, with the man he’s going to meet every day, with the man who looks so good, very sure of himself, wearing a loose floral shirt, white tank top under, hair styled a bit differently but Nino can recognize those eyebrows anywhere. Wait. What? He doesn’t just—
“Just. Why?”
“Why what?” Yuriko turns from the shelves she’s working on to the magazine rack. “What?” She looks over Nino’s shoulder to see Nino’s gaze is fixed on a woman’s magazine with a candid snapshot of man, a striking man, wearing a hideous shirt smiling over a watermelon. “What? Is that what I think it is? Who I think he is?”
Nino puts down the magazines he’s been holding, closes his eyes and waits for Yuriko to connect the dots—he’s sure that she’s going to get it eventually. “Can I switch with Ryo-chan? I can do garbage. No problem. This is getting even more ridiculously embarrassing.”
“He’s that famous?” Yuriko says, stepping closer to the rack, picking up the magazine in question. Realization dawns slowly on her. “And he’s gorgeous, in a way, I don’t know, he’s weirdly attractive. Nice job, Nino.”
“How much is that?”
Yuriko smirks. “980 yen. And it says it has features on the most recent Summer Collection. And a full spread at that. Oh. I bet it’s a nice spread, and summer always means more skin, less fabric. You should definitely buy this.”
“If you’re half as interested as you say you are, you buy it.”
“You saw this first. So you buy it. Plus I’m not buying a magazine so you can borrow it and ogle at your crush during work hours. Naturally, I am going to borrow it later from you to finally get a full glimpse of your crush. I also can get up-to-date info on what to wear this summer. Win-win!”
“But you can ogle, too. Think of it as an investment.”
“Maybe I’m not interested in ogling, or even in investing. Maybe I can live without ever reading this particular magazine.”
“Maybe you are. This is a women’s magazine. There must be something you’re interested in. Come on. Consider it research. An investment and research.”
“But I don’t need to research a girls’ magazine, much less invest in one. That’s your cue. Plus I read my magazines for free at my usual diner, thank you very much. I take it you’re interested. I’m just going to cut it from your next paycheck.”
“You’re going to do that anyway right?” Nino finally gives up; the more he looks at the cover the more he wants to rip open the plastic right away and get down to ogling after all. Why fight the inevitable? Yuriko-chan is going to crack him sooner or later. “Fine. I’ll get Ryo-chan behind the register and we can take this to the back.”
Much to Nino’s relief, he doesn’t spot Matsumoto Saturday morning. He’s told to go to the basement of their office and finds that front security clears him immediately. He steps down the steep steps to find the basement resembling an underground nightclub, complete with the barstools and stage. There’s no harsh lighting—not yet, but he knows there will be a lot of it later—and only a few people from the art department along with Takeda-san are around. A sleep-deprived Sho greets him on under the stairs. “Nice timing. Go see Yamada-chan. Go right, the room by the loading dock. She’ll fix you up. We have 30 minutes.”
“Okay,” Nino says, all serious and without any biting remarks this time. He circles the empty stage to get to the right wing and walks down the hall.
“Good morning.” Nino enters the makeshift corner.
“Oh, Nino-san, good morning. Right on time,” Yamada-chan greets him back. “I’m ready for you. Let’s do your hair first. Here, let’s put your bag over here.”
“Okay,” Nino complies. Setting aside his bag and cap, he then sits on the stool and let Yamada-chan work. No fancy decorations—as expected of a cheap production and Sho. Yamada-chan continues to do something with his hair and face in silence while Nino sits, looking at his own reflection in the small mirror, reciting the whole script in his head, keeping his own mood on check, trying to be still and patient; finally work will begin.
In under 20 minutes, Yamada-chan has finished her work; Nino has his hair styled, and he’s donned a sleek black suit, a loose tie around his neck and a ridiculous purple corsage on his chest.
“Done,” Yamada-chan announces while circling him to inspect her work. “Do you need something else? Anything I missed?”
“You said it’s done so it’s done, Yamada-chan,” Nino replies, adding a sleepy wink. “You know best.”
She smiles tiredly at him. “Just don’t flip this seam, right here,” she adds, showing where the cufflinks should be. “The suit is not yet done. I didn’t make the morning deadline.”
“Got it.”
“Let’s get you to the set then.”
Ohno-sensei is already on set by the time they get there, fiddling with the camera with one of his assistants. Nino says his greeting and waits just in front of the table as Yamada-chan talks to Ohno first. He notices there’s a keyboard on the center stage now, lit by two stand lights.
“Good morning, Nino. All ready, I see,” Aiba greets him, holding what appears to be a giant mug of hot steaming coffee.
“Yeah, good morning to you too,” Nino replies. “Would it be too much if I asked for coffee?”
“No problem, I can get you some,” Aiba says, staying where he is. “You went straight to Yamada-chan, I see.”
“Yeah, Sho-chan forgot his manners and didn’t offer anything at all.”
“You know how he gets at times like this. Seriously, I can get you one. Just after I finish this one, because I don’t think I can move if I don’t down this properly.”
“It’s not even begun yet and you both are overworked already.”
“Well, as Sho-chan always says, we can always sleep later,” Aiba says, “and everything is on schedule, so that’s good.”
“Good then,” Nino absently replies. Yamada-chan is pointing at him, before Ohno-sensei speaks again in low voice. He can’t hear anything, so he keeps on standing, waiting for further instructions.
“How’s the crush going by the way?” Aiba asks, chuckling over his mug when he sees Nino rolls his eyes. “You should talk to him, you know. I think he wants to talk to you.”
“Can you just stop it with that word? And what good would it bring? I’m still going to be nervous.”
There’s genuine concern in Aiba’s voice. “I think he’s also nervous. You must be if this is your first production. We’re not exactly doing a normal film shoot after all. At least you two could be nervous together. That’d be nice.”
Nino was going to respond with a verbal jab or a nudge or a step on Aiba’s left sneaker but Yamada-chan beckons him to come closer, so he only hisses his answer and walks toward the table leaving Aiba with his steaming coffee.
“Yes?”
“Ohno-sensei has a problem with the color of corsage, but for rehearsal, we’re going to go with it anyway.” Yamada-chan reaches for his collar and fixes it, smoothing the creases.
“Okay.”
“So you’re all ready then,” she says. “I’ll be over there if you need me, Sensei.”
Ohno nods, and pats the chair beside him. “Have a seat.”
Nino sits and waits.
“So, you read the scene, right?” Ohno puts his camera down on the table, focusing on Nino now. “I want a full song. Can you do a full song?”
“Sure. What kind of song?”
Ohno stays silent for a while, humming as he gives the question a deep thought. Nino feels a surge of nostalgia all of a sudden, the thrumming excitement of finally being back on camera, given the chance to act out a story, being in Ohno’s work, and this time it’s even in a more important role than being the bikini girls’ assistant—
“Something seductive?” Ohno finally decides.
“Sorry?”
“Something melodious that you think will attract the man you love to enter your honey trap.”
Nino frowns for a while, searching his memory for a particular song that could fit that absurd description; he learned during his first project with Ohno that there’s nothing too ridiculous for the man. It’s rather scary to realize that he’s not even flinching at such directions. “I don’t think there’s any in particular. Do you need the lyrics too?”
“No, no lyrics, that’d be too much. A melody?”
“I can try to play something sultry. Some high notes with a slow tempo.”
“Good. We’ll try that,” Ohno says, nodding his agreement. “What I want to is mostly to work on your posture. We’ll be using a grand piano later, so keep that in mind. There’ll be some adjustments, but you know how that works, right?”
“Yes, Sensei. Matsu-nii CGI?”
Ohno chuckles. “Can’t work on a film without his help, really.”
“I got it.”
“Good. Stand by at the stool, will you? We’ll be right there.”
“Okay.”
The moment he sits down, the sensation comes back at him in waves; being under the spotlight—especially by a keyboard, which he imagines as a grand piano after all, emptying his mind and channeling the longing that reflects in his eyes, wondering when the man he’s been waiting for will walk through the door.
“The door is over there.” Ohno points to the left side of the stage. He now hovers close, camera in hand, and assistant right behind him. “Slouch a bit but keep your head off the keys, staring straight.” He gives instruction after instruction. “Yes, like that. Keep it like that and play.”
Nino complies.
Part 2
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Am at work (lunch time!) but I briefly read a few paragraphs and I know that I would love this. You seem to have an amazing sense of humour :D :D Am already enjoying Ohno sensei and Aiba and Nino's characters. Will be back later tonight for a more detailed comment! <3 <3 <3
Meanwhile: Back to work!
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This is going to be a rambly piece of mess so I hope you are fine with rambles. First and foremost, I'm so glad that you picked out this prompt! I love you sound so HAPPY writing it, and it makes me happy reading it <3 <3 Everything else is going to be in point form orz.
- Ohno-SENSEI. I keep repeating that in my head and getting awfully amused at it. Coz SENSEI coz director ohno is so perfect. And INTO THE QUIET NIGHT (SHIZUKA NA YORU NI HAHAHA) AND RAIN, HAHAHAHAHAHA. I love your first paragraph's write up about Ohno because that is so HIM. To be quite honest, when I first started thinking about this idea, I did not actually imagined Ohno as a director so this is a surprise - a brilliant one at it!
- "Nino does enjoy the hardship of being a lowly actor, no firm strings attached, for the sake of ‘art’;" --> Right, Nino. Right. Whatever you say.
- "Sho just insists that he should reminisce about their younger days when they were still working for a hopeless and lame kabuki troupe, those smelly old men and all." ---> Now I want to know the story!
- LOLLING because Ohno's main and only concern is whether Nino can play the piano.
- I like Ohno's script (or the bare few lines.) Interesting. And I love how you build up the story from those few lines. Trust Nino to get all worked up over a few lines - tsk. AND JUN HASNT EVEN APPEARED YET HAHAH.
- PURU PURU SIMPURU PRODUCTION OFFICE. PURU PURU~ SIMPURU~ ROFL.
- Oh Sho, you tried doing it the proper way. A+ for effort? Also amazing dynamics between Sho and Nino. How Sho is all in I am serious/long suffering mode and Nino, well Nino is not letting it go his way, The banter between the two of them is amazing <3 <3 Imagine me quoting the whole conversation here okay. ESP HOW NINO MANAGE TO COAX MATSUMOTO’S NAME OUT OF SHO. A+ Of course Nino, of course. Sho you dumb ass.
- AND THEN THERE IS AIBA AND NINO. Nino you persistent bastard. Also LOL At the way Sho-chan is now a descriptive noun. DONT BE A SHO-CHAN hahha. ALSO GO AIBA I LIKE HOW YOU CAN HOLD AGAINST HIM :D:D STUPID NINO
- THEN THERE IS VEGGIE BRIBING. NINO YOU ARE NOW A 3 YEAR OLD AND AIBA IS YOUR PARENT. AND YES AIBA DIDNT GIVE AWAY ANYTHING. SHO, LEARN
- OMG YURIKO. PRECIOUS YURIKO. OMG AS NINO’S BOSS. IN A CONBINI OMG OMG. YURIKO TELLING NINO OFF. YURIKO SNARKIER THEN SNARKY. GO WOMAN GO. ALSO RYO WORKS IN THIS CONBINI TOO?! WHAT?! HAHAHAHAHAH. This is going to be such an amazing conbini. ALL THE BANTER IN THIS IFC OMG AND I AM ONLY BARELY STARTED>
- LOL CHEAP INTRO PARTY. NO BUDGET. AHAHHA. Also YOU ARE BLOCKING THE DOOR. WE ARE BLOCKING THE DOOR. Have I mentioned how your fic has some really really amazing lines?! Also Nino, yes you are doomed and start behaving like a man rather than a 13 year old girl. Even Yuriko (FEMALE) has more guts than you. Also Aiba you are fucking amazing. KEEP TEASING NINO PLEASE.
- AND THEY FINALLY MEET. ALL THAT ANTICIPATION. LIPS. JUN DOES HAVE VERY NICE LIPS. I AGREE. NINO YOU SOUND LIKE A PERV. I KNOW YOU ARE TRYING TO BE SUAVE BUT REALY. NO.
- ALSO HAHA AT EVERYONE (INCLUDING OHNO) LEAVING THEM ALONE FOR PRIVATE TIME.
- MORE LIPS. CREEPY NINO CREEPY.
- The first thing Jun says is you are staring /amused. And Nino’s attempts to be.. well, casual about it. I suppose. No wonder Jun calls you weird.
- CALL ME JUN GAG. HAHAHHA.
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- ““I’d say you are pulling a Sho-chan on me for not being fun. But you are Sho-chan, so that nullifies everything.” BWHAHAHAHAHAHA.
- Poor Sho, not getting food into his mouth in peace. Nino you brat <3
- “I’m still safely within my daily limit. And knowing that the limit is going to be crushed to pieces within a few days actually excites me.” OH SHO.
- Oh I really love how Jun is so awkward in the whole setting as his photo shoots are huge events and this is a small scale production. I love how there is a fine line between a diva and being maladjusted and you have managed it very well. Also, I love your attention to details, clothes, lights, shoes etc. It makes this a really enjoyable read.
- Oh Nino, be nice and tell Jun that he doesn’t need to take down so many notes. But LOL Jun taking down small notes after small notes is basically the canonest canon.
- Also, I wish I can get more of Aiba and Sho working together. There is something very interesting in their work dynamics…
- And then Nino’s thoughts fly off the rails at the mention of bed.
- Also Nino you are staring way too much,
- AND YURIKO IS NOT PLEASED. Nino you are one terrible worker. AND YES YURIKO MAKE HIM BUY THAT MAG. OH YES TAKE IT OFF HIS PAY. YOU GO GIRL
- “he suit is not yet done. I didn’t make the morning deadline.” oh i really like this part because so real <3 Of course deadlines don’t get met. I also love the description of how overworked Aiba and Sho was. We always don’t remember how hard people behind the scenes work.
- LOLLING AT MATSUNII CGI
ON TO THE NEXT PART. IT MAY COME IN A LITTLE LATER BECAUSE I NEEDTO SLEEP SOON. BUT NONETHELESS.
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I'm glad to see that you find the dialogue works, because I cannot help myself sometimes. And this is probably one of the hardest ones I've ever written, it just kept on being difficult! But Nino is just super fun to write plus hey, surprise, Yuriko <3! XD AND YOU NEED TO KNOW that I have the brightest, widest grin on my face when I read your detailed comments. :D :D :D I felt that this was such a simple fic, which frustrated me when I kept on having difficulties to work some details in, but again to hear that you like this one, that's a huge relief. ;)
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YURIKO SAMA WAS SO GOOD. I think she steals the show.
Simplicity is good okay XD
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