Gift Fic for arasukishi
A piece of rainbow for arasukishi
Title: My dear
Pairing: Aimiya, Sakumoto (a bit)
Rating: PG
Summary: Nino just wanted to keep things as they were. Aiba knew they could do so much more if only they tried. They parted ways, and after fourteen years of silence it was time to face each other.
Notes: Hello, arasukishi! I really, really hope you like this! ^w^
It had been fourteen years since he and Aiba parted ways.
They met in elementary school, back when Aiba had just moved to that small town on a sunny summer morning. The truck with the family’s belongings had barely parked in front of the two-storey house when the six-year-old jumped out of his parents’ car and dashed towards him.
“I’m Aiba Masaki, I’m new here,” he said with a wide grin, one of his superior front teeth missing. “What’s your name?”
“Ninomiya Kazunari,” was his reply. Even after twenty-six years he still chastised himself for the quiver in his voice during that introduction. Back in middle and high school Aiba would always mention it when somebody happened to ask about their long-lasting friendship, making everyone laugh as Kazunari scowled at his always-grinning best friend while murmuring death threats under his breath. With Aiba being so far away, such things didn’t happen anymore.
“Super Idol Aiba Masaki’s new single Disco Star debuted at first position in the Oricon chart this week, breaking sales record of all time for male solo acts. The single’s promotional video has become the most viewed video in Japan in a few days. Aiba’s agency has announced that he’ll be embarking on a tour this coming November and December…”
Kazunari sighed looking at the TV screen where two of those pretty announcers from Tokyo were practically swooning over the man who had once been his best friend. Aiba hadn’t changed that much. His hair kept being as shaggy as ever, his smile just as blinding. There were lines appearing at the corners of his eyes -he was thirty-two after all-, which somehow made him look even more attractive.
“Masaki-chan has gotten very handsome, don’t you think?”
Kazunari just hummed in response to his mother’s comment and played with the noodles left in the bottom of the plastic cup. He didn’t feel like talking, at least not about Aiba. That topic was still difficult for him.
His mother shook her head and snatched the cup away from him. “How many times have I told you not to eat this garbage, eh?” she tossed it in the trash bin and put a plate of her homemade ramen in front of her son. She turned her head in direction to the TV screen and sighed happily. “Oh, how I wish I could see Masaki-chan again! I still don’t understand why you guys stopped being friends!” she exclaimed, giving him a side glance. After not getting any reply, not even one of Kazunari’s usual venomous remarks, she just left him alone with his thoughts.
The ramen remained untouched. Being alone in his living room, the same living room where he and Aiba had spent so many happy hours together, suddenly made Kazunari feel overwhelmed. The memory of the first time he invited Aiba over was still fresh in his memory. It had been that same day they met. He initially didn’t want to let the boy come in, but Aiba’s insistence won in the end. From that day on Aiba Masaki was a constant presence in his life.
Well, at least until he left town.
It hadn’t been a rushed decision. Aiba had been planning it all since elementary school, and it was partly Kazunari’s fault to be honest. He was the one who arrived one day rambling about guitars and pianos and his grandfather wanting to teach him how to play them. And Aiba, who normally got excited when he saw someone else being excited, became even more enthusiastic than him about the idea. Aiba pestered his parents about getting him a guitar as well so that they could learn together. Every afternoon they went to Kazunari’s grandfather’s place after their customary baseball game to spend the rest of their free time learning everything the old man had to teach them.
And they continued doing so, even long after the old man couldn’t play anymore with his shaking hands and just watched them with a smile from his armchair. On summer nights they’d stay outside, watching the stars as Aiba played his harmonica. On winter days Aiba would curl up next to Kazunari wrapped in a blanket while the latter played the piano and sang. Sometimes Aiba would join, although most times he’d just lean on Kazunari’s shoulder with his eyes closed. Life was perfect those days, Kazunari often thought.
But it couldn’t last forever, now could it?
Aiba had always been the most ambitious between the two of them. He firmly believed they could make it as musicians. “Don’t you see it, Nino? We can do this!” he said more than once with his sparkling eyes, full of hope for the bright future he could see ahead of them.
“You’re being ridiculous,” had been Kazunari’s reply. “There are hundreds of people aiming for that same thing right now. What makes you think we could stand out more than them, eh? We’re just aficionados, nothing else! There’s no way we can succeed.”
“But Nino-”
“No!” he snapped. “Stop it with that nonsense, okay? We’re not children anymore, Aiba.”
The hurt look in Aiba’s eyes would never be erased from his memory.
“Okay…” was all Aiba said before leaving, his head was hanging low.
Kazunari knew he had said something unnecessary. He meant to apologize the next morning, maybe treat his friend to some karaage and make him laugh with jokes. Kazunari thought it’d be that easy. Aiba Masaki wasn’t one to hold grudges after all.
“I’m sorry, Kazunari-kun, but he’s not home,” Aiba’s mother informed him the moment she opened the door for him.
“Oh, I see… Did he say when he’d be back?”
“He won’t be back for a long time, I’m afraid,” the woman sighed. “He packed his stuff and left for Tokyo before the sun was out.”
Fourteen years hadn’t been enough to recover from the shock from such news. At first he had expected Aiba to return a few days later, bouncing all over the place while telling his adventures from Tokyo and pouting when asked why he didn’t stay.
So Kazunari waited every day. He never left town despite his mother’s pleads. He wanted to be the first one to greet Aiba when he came back.
The news about Aiba’s debut as an idol came around one year later. It surprised Kazunari that his friend joined an agency which mainly dealt with idols instead of musicians, but with time it made sense to him. Aiba had the charisma to be an idol, there was no doubt. With his personality and beauty, he had everyone at his feet in a short time. Kazunari’s hopes of seeing him again diminished with each passing day.
“Why don’t you go to Tokyo then?” his best friend -and boss- Ohno Satoshi asked as they cleaned Ohno’s small bakery shop to close for the night. “It’s been fourteen years! I can’t believe you’re still here!”
Kazunari sighed. “I don’t know… I mean, what’s the point? Bet he’s already forgotten about me,” he unconsciously pouted as he wiped the counter with a damp cloth.
“What if you had a chance to meet him? Would you do it?”
Kazunari gnawed on his lower lip, letting out a bitter chuckle. “I would,” he said.
Ohno just hummed and went to the second floor. The clatter of his steps could be heard from Kazunari’s position behind the counter, and he could only wonder what the other man was doing upstairs. Ohno came back after a few minutes, grinning for an unknown reason. “Here,” he simply said, handing Kazunari an envelope.
“What is this?”
“Just open it,” Ohno replied with a smile.
To his utter surprise, it was a ticket. More specifically, a ticket for a small live Aiba was having for members of his fan club. Kazunari had heard about it on TV. There were only five hundred tickets, and the lucky people were selected by a lottery. How did Ohno get his hands on something like that?
“Some folks in town applied for the tickets,” Ohno said. “We figured that the more people participating, the more chances we’d have of getting one. It came in the mail yesterday.”
Kazunari just stood there staring at the piece of shiny paper between his hands with tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. Did everyone join forces just to send him to a concert? “I- I can’t do it, Oh-chan,” he shook his head frantically.
“You can,” Ohno assured him with a smile.
And so, one week later he was in Tokyo, standing on the second row waiting for Aiba to appear on stage. Some girls gave him weird stares at first, being the only male in the front section. He was thinking about running away and apologizing to Ohno later when a group of guys carrying a litter on their shoulders appeared out of nowhere.
Aiba descended from the litter, looking like a god despite his obnoxious pink and purple costume. And Kazunari was too hypnotized to move a muscle.
-----
It had been fourteen years since he and Nino parted ways.
Ninomiya Kazunari. That was the name of his best friend. Masaki still thought of him that way, even if they hadn’t seen each other since he decided to leave everything behind and come to Tokyo, to chase their dream. Nino had refused to join him, calling him ridiculous and saying that his words were nonsense. It hurt deeply, for he cherished Nino’s opinion more than anything, but it was also the last push for him to make up his mind.
And he succeeded.
“Aiba-san, Aiba-san,” someone knocked at his door insistently. “Aiba-san, please come out.”
Masaki groaned and covered his ears with a pillow. He had just woken up from a delightful dream where his dear Nino came to see him in his special live for the fan club members. The noise had made him open his eyes just the moment when he was about to take one of Nino’s cute little hands in his while Nino blushed shyly. Being welcomed by his room’s white ceiling after he fluttered his eyes opened was definitely not nice.
“Aiba-san, open the door!”
“LEAVE ME ALONE, SHO-CHAN!” Masaki yelled and pulled his blanket up to cover his head.
“But Aiba-san…”
After a pause, someone else spoke. “Either you come out or I’ll get in there for you. And you don’t want me to do that, do you?” the stern voice said.
“Damn,” Masaki cursed and stood up reluctantly to open the door. Two men stood there, one staring at him like he wanted to burn a hole in his head and the other one seeming rather nervous. Masaki flashed them a smile, hoping they wouldn’t be too mad at him.
“Do you have any idea what time is it?” the murderous-looking man snapped at him.
“Matsumoto-san…” the other man started.
“Stay out of this, Sakurai-san,” Matsumoto cut him. “Today’s your special live! You should be on your way since half an hour ago!”
“Sorry,” Masaki pouted.
“Whatever, let’s go,” Matsumoto sighed and started walking. Aiba had no option but to follow, despite not having showered or changed his clothes.
Thirteen years had passed since the day he was scouted by Johnny Kitagawa to be an idol. He was in his part-time job, walking dogs in Ueno Park, when the man approached him and handed him a card saying “YOU, come to this address tomorrow.” He stood there in a daze until he heard people whispering that the old guy who just approached him was no other than the most successful music producer in Tokyo. He didn’t think it twice and went to meet him the next day, of course.
His training to become an idol had been hard. He debuted right away, but there was so much he still needed to learn. Dancing, acting and singing lessons became part of his daily routine. He didn’t complain once about the strict rules he had to follow, knowing very well his dream depended on it.
That’s where he met Matsumoto Jun. Matsumoto was Johnny Kitagawa’s nephew. He had a gorgeous face and could have been an idol himself, yet he chose not to become one, being more interested in learning how to be a good producer. Masaki witnessed his growth as a producer just as Matsumoto saw him turn into a real idol. They were pretty close because of that.
“Matsujun is mean,” Masaki pouted in the back seat of the agency’s car. “I couldn’t even take a shower!”
“That’s your fault for not waking up early, Aiba-san,” Matsumoto pinched his cheek playfully.
“But Sho-chan didn’t wake me up on time!” Masaki protested.
“I did go to your room at the time we agreed!” Sho, who was driving, replied. “I called you many times, but all you said was ‘Nino, Nino’ and continued sleeping.”
Masaki blushed to the tip of his ears at the mention of his friend’s name. Had he talked in his sleep?
“Oh…” Matsumoto giggled. “So you were dreaming about this mysterious Nino guy again?”
“Who’s Nino?” Sho asked.
“You haven’t heard of him?” Matsumoto asked. “He’s our Aiba-chan’s best friend. Although by the way he speaks of him, it sounds like he had a crush on that guy.”
“Ah, I see,” Sho chuckled. “He hadn’t mentioned him, even though I’ve been his manager for one year.”
“That’s odd. He usually never shuts up about his precious Nino. I heard about that guy every single day during Aiba’s first years at the agency.”
“Can’t we talk about something else?” Masaki whined.
“No,” Matsumoto and Sho replied in unison sporting identical smirks. Sometimes Masaki hated their ability to be in perfect sync without even looking at each other.
“Meanies,” Masaki grumbled as the two men laughed.
Getting ready for a performance had always been one of his favorite parts of being an idol. He would always get in high spirits as he put on his shiny outfits while the stylists took care of him. He couldn’t wait to go on stage and give the best show he could. Every time he did so, he was hoping that maybe one day Nino would see him.
But Nino was never there.
Letting out a sigh as he checked his reflection on the mirror, he finished buttoning up his shirt. There were five minutes before the show would start.
“You okay?” Matsumoto asked him.
“Ah, yeah, I am…” Masaki lied with a smile. “Let’s go!”
He was supposed to enter the stage in a litter. He took a few deep breaths before emerging from the curtains hiding him from the public’s eyes. The spotlight was right on him in that moment, so blinding that he couldn’t see much. However, he was able to distinguish a familiar face in the second row.
“No way,” he mumbled under his breath.
It was Nino.
At first, he was convinced it was just his imagination. He continued dancing and singing as usual. But around the fourth time he accidentally looked in that direction and still found Nino there, he realized it was real. Happy wasn’t even close to describing how he felt in that moment. He wanted to cry and laugh at the same time, to run off stage and hug his best friend tight without a care to the world. He managed to keep his emotions under control -it was hard though- and waited giddily for the meet and greet with the fans.
There were five hundred fans there. Five hundred! He hoped Nino would be in the front, but the man wasn’t in sight. For a moment he doubted Nino had been there at all. All of the sudden Sho ran towards him and said something in his ear.
“He’s here. Matsumoto-san found him at the end of the line and took him to your dressing room.”
That was it. He continued greeting the fans with a smile, although getting impatient with each passing minute. When the last one of the line let go of his hand, he ran out of the room making his “Disco Star Walk” -the signature move of his new song’s choreography-, emotions swelling his chest as he approached his dressing room.
When he opened the door, Nino was right there. They just stood before each other without uttering a word for a couple of minutes. Masaki’s heart leaped to his throat when Nino’s lips trembled and curled up in a smile. Without thinking it for a second, he rushed towards his friend and wrapped his arms around him. Nino’s body was shaking as tears streamed down his cheeks. “I’m sorry” he said. “I missed you,” he added between sobs.
Masaki’s heart skipped a beat. Nino was never this direct with his feelings, and that made him feel so warm inside. “I missed you too,” he replied.
Then they said nothing. They hugged and cried their hearts out until they both had enough and just laughed, looking at each other’s face. “You’re still ugly when you cry,” Nino commented.
“You’re not exactly pretty either,” Masaki retorted.
“I’m happy to finally see your ugly face again though,” Nino patted his cheek.
“Took you long enough to come and see me,” Masaki snorted. Nino lowered his head, but Aiba wouldn’t have it that way. He grabbed Nino’s chin and made him look up again. “The important thing is that you’re here now, at last, and that I won’t ever let you go.”
Nino just nodded to that, face buried in Masaki’s chest. Meanwhile, Sho and Matsumoto observed them with satisfied smiles from the threshold.
“Let’s give them some privacy,” Matsumoto closed the door.
As they walked down the corridor, Matsumoto stopped. Sho turned to look at him with a confused expression. “Is everything alright?”
No, Matsumoto wanted to say. Watching Aiba getting together with Nino after so much time made him want to take action as well. Should he? Could he? Sho was still staring at him with a slight frown.
“Ah, umm, yeah, it’s okay…” Matsumoto faked nonchalance. It didn’t work though.
“Don’t lie to me,” Sho chuckled. “What’s up?”
Matsumoto looked away, a pink tinge spreading in his cheeks. “No, nothing…” he said, a tiny voice in his head calling him an idiot for not having the guts to open his mouth and let the words come out.
“Okay then,” Sho shrugged.
They walked out side by side, no words about the friends’ reunion or their own feelings spoken that night, hoping a fourteen-year separation wouldn’t be necessary to make them speak up some other day.
Title: My dear
Pairing: Aimiya, Sakumoto (a bit)
Rating: PG
Summary: Nino just wanted to keep things as they were. Aiba knew they could do so much more if only they tried. They parted ways, and after fourteen years of silence it was time to face each other.
Notes: Hello, arasukishi! I really, really hope you like this! ^w^
It had been fourteen years since he and Aiba parted ways.
They met in elementary school, back when Aiba had just moved to that small town on a sunny summer morning. The truck with the family’s belongings had barely parked in front of the two-storey house when the six-year-old jumped out of his parents’ car and dashed towards him.
“I’m Aiba Masaki, I’m new here,” he said with a wide grin, one of his superior front teeth missing. “What’s your name?”
“Ninomiya Kazunari,” was his reply. Even after twenty-six years he still chastised himself for the quiver in his voice during that introduction. Back in middle and high school Aiba would always mention it when somebody happened to ask about their long-lasting friendship, making everyone laugh as Kazunari scowled at his always-grinning best friend while murmuring death threats under his breath. With Aiba being so far away, such things didn’t happen anymore.
“Super Idol Aiba Masaki’s new single Disco Star debuted at first position in the Oricon chart this week, breaking sales record of all time for male solo acts. The single’s promotional video has become the most viewed video in Japan in a few days. Aiba’s agency has announced that he’ll be embarking on a tour this coming November and December…”
Kazunari sighed looking at the TV screen where two of those pretty announcers from Tokyo were practically swooning over the man who had once been his best friend. Aiba hadn’t changed that much. His hair kept being as shaggy as ever, his smile just as blinding. There were lines appearing at the corners of his eyes -he was thirty-two after all-, which somehow made him look even more attractive.
“Masaki-chan has gotten very handsome, don’t you think?”
Kazunari just hummed in response to his mother’s comment and played with the noodles left in the bottom of the plastic cup. He didn’t feel like talking, at least not about Aiba. That topic was still difficult for him.
His mother shook her head and snatched the cup away from him. “How many times have I told you not to eat this garbage, eh?” she tossed it in the trash bin and put a plate of her homemade ramen in front of her son. She turned her head in direction to the TV screen and sighed happily. “Oh, how I wish I could see Masaki-chan again! I still don’t understand why you guys stopped being friends!” she exclaimed, giving him a side glance. After not getting any reply, not even one of Kazunari’s usual venomous remarks, she just left him alone with his thoughts.
The ramen remained untouched. Being alone in his living room, the same living room where he and Aiba had spent so many happy hours together, suddenly made Kazunari feel overwhelmed. The memory of the first time he invited Aiba over was still fresh in his memory. It had been that same day they met. He initially didn’t want to let the boy come in, but Aiba’s insistence won in the end. From that day on Aiba Masaki was a constant presence in his life.
Well, at least until he left town.
It hadn’t been a rushed decision. Aiba had been planning it all since elementary school, and it was partly Kazunari’s fault to be honest. He was the one who arrived one day rambling about guitars and pianos and his grandfather wanting to teach him how to play them. And Aiba, who normally got excited when he saw someone else being excited, became even more enthusiastic than him about the idea. Aiba pestered his parents about getting him a guitar as well so that they could learn together. Every afternoon they went to Kazunari’s grandfather’s place after their customary baseball game to spend the rest of their free time learning everything the old man had to teach them.
And they continued doing so, even long after the old man couldn’t play anymore with his shaking hands and just watched them with a smile from his armchair. On summer nights they’d stay outside, watching the stars as Aiba played his harmonica. On winter days Aiba would curl up next to Kazunari wrapped in a blanket while the latter played the piano and sang. Sometimes Aiba would join, although most times he’d just lean on Kazunari’s shoulder with his eyes closed. Life was perfect those days, Kazunari often thought.
But it couldn’t last forever, now could it?
Aiba had always been the most ambitious between the two of them. He firmly believed they could make it as musicians. “Don’t you see it, Nino? We can do this!” he said more than once with his sparkling eyes, full of hope for the bright future he could see ahead of them.
“You’re being ridiculous,” had been Kazunari’s reply. “There are hundreds of people aiming for that same thing right now. What makes you think we could stand out more than them, eh? We’re just aficionados, nothing else! There’s no way we can succeed.”
“But Nino-”
“No!” he snapped. “Stop it with that nonsense, okay? We’re not children anymore, Aiba.”
The hurt look in Aiba’s eyes would never be erased from his memory.
“Okay…” was all Aiba said before leaving, his head was hanging low.
Kazunari knew he had said something unnecessary. He meant to apologize the next morning, maybe treat his friend to some karaage and make him laugh with jokes. Kazunari thought it’d be that easy. Aiba Masaki wasn’t one to hold grudges after all.
“I’m sorry, Kazunari-kun, but he’s not home,” Aiba’s mother informed him the moment she opened the door for him.
“Oh, I see… Did he say when he’d be back?”
“He won’t be back for a long time, I’m afraid,” the woman sighed. “He packed his stuff and left for Tokyo before the sun was out.”
Fourteen years hadn’t been enough to recover from the shock from such news. At first he had expected Aiba to return a few days later, bouncing all over the place while telling his adventures from Tokyo and pouting when asked why he didn’t stay.
So Kazunari waited every day. He never left town despite his mother’s pleads. He wanted to be the first one to greet Aiba when he came back.
The news about Aiba’s debut as an idol came around one year later. It surprised Kazunari that his friend joined an agency which mainly dealt with idols instead of musicians, but with time it made sense to him. Aiba had the charisma to be an idol, there was no doubt. With his personality and beauty, he had everyone at his feet in a short time. Kazunari’s hopes of seeing him again diminished with each passing day.
“Why don’t you go to Tokyo then?” his best friend -and boss- Ohno Satoshi asked as they cleaned Ohno’s small bakery shop to close for the night. “It’s been fourteen years! I can’t believe you’re still here!”
Kazunari sighed. “I don’t know… I mean, what’s the point? Bet he’s already forgotten about me,” he unconsciously pouted as he wiped the counter with a damp cloth.
“What if you had a chance to meet him? Would you do it?”
Kazunari gnawed on his lower lip, letting out a bitter chuckle. “I would,” he said.
Ohno just hummed and went to the second floor. The clatter of his steps could be heard from Kazunari’s position behind the counter, and he could only wonder what the other man was doing upstairs. Ohno came back after a few minutes, grinning for an unknown reason. “Here,” he simply said, handing Kazunari an envelope.
“What is this?”
“Just open it,” Ohno replied with a smile.
To his utter surprise, it was a ticket. More specifically, a ticket for a small live Aiba was having for members of his fan club. Kazunari had heard about it on TV. There were only five hundred tickets, and the lucky people were selected by a lottery. How did Ohno get his hands on something like that?
“Some folks in town applied for the tickets,” Ohno said. “We figured that the more people participating, the more chances we’d have of getting one. It came in the mail yesterday.”
Kazunari just stood there staring at the piece of shiny paper between his hands with tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. Did everyone join forces just to send him to a concert? “I- I can’t do it, Oh-chan,” he shook his head frantically.
“You can,” Ohno assured him with a smile.
And so, one week later he was in Tokyo, standing on the second row waiting for Aiba to appear on stage. Some girls gave him weird stares at first, being the only male in the front section. He was thinking about running away and apologizing to Ohno later when a group of guys carrying a litter on their shoulders appeared out of nowhere.
Aiba descended from the litter, looking like a god despite his obnoxious pink and purple costume. And Kazunari was too hypnotized to move a muscle.
-----
It had been fourteen years since he and Nino parted ways.
Ninomiya Kazunari. That was the name of his best friend. Masaki still thought of him that way, even if they hadn’t seen each other since he decided to leave everything behind and come to Tokyo, to chase their dream. Nino had refused to join him, calling him ridiculous and saying that his words were nonsense. It hurt deeply, for he cherished Nino’s opinion more than anything, but it was also the last push for him to make up his mind.
And he succeeded.
“Aiba-san, Aiba-san,” someone knocked at his door insistently. “Aiba-san, please come out.”
Masaki groaned and covered his ears with a pillow. He had just woken up from a delightful dream where his dear Nino came to see him in his special live for the fan club members. The noise had made him open his eyes just the moment when he was about to take one of Nino’s cute little hands in his while Nino blushed shyly. Being welcomed by his room’s white ceiling after he fluttered his eyes opened was definitely not nice.
“Aiba-san, open the door!”
“LEAVE ME ALONE, SHO-CHAN!” Masaki yelled and pulled his blanket up to cover his head.
“But Aiba-san…”
After a pause, someone else spoke. “Either you come out or I’ll get in there for you. And you don’t want me to do that, do you?” the stern voice said.
“Damn,” Masaki cursed and stood up reluctantly to open the door. Two men stood there, one staring at him like he wanted to burn a hole in his head and the other one seeming rather nervous. Masaki flashed them a smile, hoping they wouldn’t be too mad at him.
“Do you have any idea what time is it?” the murderous-looking man snapped at him.
“Matsumoto-san…” the other man started.
“Stay out of this, Sakurai-san,” Matsumoto cut him. “Today’s your special live! You should be on your way since half an hour ago!”
“Sorry,” Masaki pouted.
“Whatever, let’s go,” Matsumoto sighed and started walking. Aiba had no option but to follow, despite not having showered or changed his clothes.
Thirteen years had passed since the day he was scouted by Johnny Kitagawa to be an idol. He was in his part-time job, walking dogs in Ueno Park, when the man approached him and handed him a card saying “YOU, come to this address tomorrow.” He stood there in a daze until he heard people whispering that the old guy who just approached him was no other than the most successful music producer in Tokyo. He didn’t think it twice and went to meet him the next day, of course.
His training to become an idol had been hard. He debuted right away, but there was so much he still needed to learn. Dancing, acting and singing lessons became part of his daily routine. He didn’t complain once about the strict rules he had to follow, knowing very well his dream depended on it.
That’s where he met Matsumoto Jun. Matsumoto was Johnny Kitagawa’s nephew. He had a gorgeous face and could have been an idol himself, yet he chose not to become one, being more interested in learning how to be a good producer. Masaki witnessed his growth as a producer just as Matsumoto saw him turn into a real idol. They were pretty close because of that.
“Matsujun is mean,” Masaki pouted in the back seat of the agency’s car. “I couldn’t even take a shower!”
“That’s your fault for not waking up early, Aiba-san,” Matsumoto pinched his cheek playfully.
“But Sho-chan didn’t wake me up on time!” Masaki protested.
“I did go to your room at the time we agreed!” Sho, who was driving, replied. “I called you many times, but all you said was ‘Nino, Nino’ and continued sleeping.”
Masaki blushed to the tip of his ears at the mention of his friend’s name. Had he talked in his sleep?
“Oh…” Matsumoto giggled. “So you were dreaming about this mysterious Nino guy again?”
“Who’s Nino?” Sho asked.
“You haven’t heard of him?” Matsumoto asked. “He’s our Aiba-chan’s best friend. Although by the way he speaks of him, it sounds like he had a crush on that guy.”
“Ah, I see,” Sho chuckled. “He hadn’t mentioned him, even though I’ve been his manager for one year.”
“That’s odd. He usually never shuts up about his precious Nino. I heard about that guy every single day during Aiba’s first years at the agency.”
“Can’t we talk about something else?” Masaki whined.
“No,” Matsumoto and Sho replied in unison sporting identical smirks. Sometimes Masaki hated their ability to be in perfect sync without even looking at each other.
“Meanies,” Masaki grumbled as the two men laughed.
Getting ready for a performance had always been one of his favorite parts of being an idol. He would always get in high spirits as he put on his shiny outfits while the stylists took care of him. He couldn’t wait to go on stage and give the best show he could. Every time he did so, he was hoping that maybe one day Nino would see him.
But Nino was never there.
Letting out a sigh as he checked his reflection on the mirror, he finished buttoning up his shirt. There were five minutes before the show would start.
“You okay?” Matsumoto asked him.
“Ah, yeah, I am…” Masaki lied with a smile. “Let’s go!”
He was supposed to enter the stage in a litter. He took a few deep breaths before emerging from the curtains hiding him from the public’s eyes. The spotlight was right on him in that moment, so blinding that he couldn’t see much. However, he was able to distinguish a familiar face in the second row.
“No way,” he mumbled under his breath.
It was Nino.
At first, he was convinced it was just his imagination. He continued dancing and singing as usual. But around the fourth time he accidentally looked in that direction and still found Nino there, he realized it was real. Happy wasn’t even close to describing how he felt in that moment. He wanted to cry and laugh at the same time, to run off stage and hug his best friend tight without a care to the world. He managed to keep his emotions under control -it was hard though- and waited giddily for the meet and greet with the fans.
There were five hundred fans there. Five hundred! He hoped Nino would be in the front, but the man wasn’t in sight. For a moment he doubted Nino had been there at all. All of the sudden Sho ran towards him and said something in his ear.
“He’s here. Matsumoto-san found him at the end of the line and took him to your dressing room.”
That was it. He continued greeting the fans with a smile, although getting impatient with each passing minute. When the last one of the line let go of his hand, he ran out of the room making his “Disco Star Walk” -the signature move of his new song’s choreography-, emotions swelling his chest as he approached his dressing room.
When he opened the door, Nino was right there. They just stood before each other without uttering a word for a couple of minutes. Masaki’s heart leaped to his throat when Nino’s lips trembled and curled up in a smile. Without thinking it for a second, he rushed towards his friend and wrapped his arms around him. Nino’s body was shaking as tears streamed down his cheeks. “I’m sorry” he said. “I missed you,” he added between sobs.
Masaki’s heart skipped a beat. Nino was never this direct with his feelings, and that made him feel so warm inside. “I missed you too,” he replied.
Then they said nothing. They hugged and cried their hearts out until they both had enough and just laughed, looking at each other’s face. “You’re still ugly when you cry,” Nino commented.
“You’re not exactly pretty either,” Masaki retorted.
“I’m happy to finally see your ugly face again though,” Nino patted his cheek.
“Took you long enough to come and see me,” Masaki snorted. Nino lowered his head, but Aiba wouldn’t have it that way. He grabbed Nino’s chin and made him look up again. “The important thing is that you’re here now, at last, and that I won’t ever let you go.”
Nino just nodded to that, face buried in Masaki’s chest. Meanwhile, Sho and Matsumoto observed them with satisfied smiles from the threshold.
“Let’s give them some privacy,” Matsumoto closed the door.
As they walked down the corridor, Matsumoto stopped. Sho turned to look at him with a confused expression. “Is everything alright?”
No, Matsumoto wanted to say. Watching Aiba getting together with Nino after so much time made him want to take action as well. Should he? Could he? Sho was still staring at him with a slight frown.
“Ah, umm, yeah, it’s okay…” Matsumoto faked nonchalance. It didn’t work though.
“Don’t lie to me,” Sho chuckled. “What’s up?”
Matsumoto looked away, a pink tinge spreading in his cheeks. “No, nothing…” he said, a tiny voice in his head calling him an idiot for not having the guts to open his mouth and let the words come out.
“Okay then,” Sho shrugged.
They walked out side by side, no words about the friends’ reunion or their own feelings spoken that night, hoping a fourteen-year separation wouldn’t be necessary to make them speak up some other day.