[fic] it's still home
Title: it’s still home
Character(s): Ryutaro-centric
Rating: G
Disclaimer: don't own them.
Genre: Angst
Fandom: Hey! Say! JUMP
Word count: 595 words.
Summary: somewhere along the way, he thinks they’re better off without him.
He stares at the television screen flickering in front of him. The lights in his room are turned down and the volume of the television is muted.
He’s still staring at the television. It feels wrong doing this, he’s been told not to subject himself to this sort of torture but he misses them and wonders if they do too.
They danced in sync like they usually practised. He wonders how much more hours have they put in just to make nine work just as well as ten.
Secretly he wonders if they think it works better as nine rather than ten.
That was the moment he picked up the remote and turned it off.
In the darkness, his eyes are wide and unblinking. His dreams are scaring him and what he just saw (and his imaginations) is running wild in his head, the pessimistic side of him feeding him unwanted thoughts of being left out forever.
He sleeps with the lights on later.
//
It’s another day of school.
He’s been avoiding them for the longest time and maybe he’ll be able to again today. After all, he succeeded in doing so for the past weeks, right?
The first week he avoided them because Yamada wasn’t someone he’d like to cross path with under those circumstances and he cares for his life at that point.
The first week his phone had been ringing non-stop with all the incoming mails.
None of them are from them. He knows it’s not their fault but the naive part of him wished they’d take a risk for a while.
(he doesn’t check his house’s mailbox, because there’re nine letters just sitting there under all the bills and pamphlets of some supermarket offers.)
//
His mom subscribed to all the magazines he used to be in.
Used to.
He decides that he hates the past tense from then on. It never does anyone good to dwell in the past, isn’t it?
Those magazines somehow find their way to his room.
(no, he’s not interested in them. Really.)
Those glossy pages are mocking him in all their shiny, colourful glory but he can’t stop himself from reading interviews and flipping through it like some twelve year-old fangirl.
The one-page spread of them stays with him that night, deeply imprinted in his mind with that little devil at the back of his head saying how well they fit the page now.
He still sleeps with the lights on.
//
When he gets the message that he’ll come back right after his suspension period is over, he stays rooted in his place.
The backlight of his phone dims and he’s still staring the little screen.
(he’s in town at the moment.)
People are passing by him without a care about the boy gripping his metallic phone tightly, in front of a bookshop, unblinking, unmoving.
He doesn’t know how long he stayed that way but by the time his phone chimes again, signalling a mail from his mom asking of his whereabouts, the sky already turned orange with pink hues.
//
He’s scared of stepping back into the same room he’s left a few months prior.
The moment he pushes the door open, he’s greeted with a lively chorus of “Okaeri!”
Nine bodies immediately launch themselves on him and he struggles to stay on his feet but it’s okay. It’s okay because it makes it more real, all those bad dreams are dissipating one by one from his memories and are replaced by these new memories he’s currently making.
And all he could say after that is, “tadaima.”
thanks for reading~
Character(s): Ryutaro-centric
Rating: G
Disclaimer: don't own them.
Genre: Angst
Fandom: Hey! Say! JUMP
Word count: 595 words.
Summary: somewhere along the way, he thinks they’re better off without him.
He stares at the television screen flickering in front of him. The lights in his room are turned down and the volume of the television is muted.
He’s still staring at the television. It feels wrong doing this, he’s been told not to subject himself to this sort of torture but he misses them and wonders if they do too.
They danced in sync like they usually practised. He wonders how much more hours have they put in just to make nine work just as well as ten.
Secretly he wonders if they think it works better as nine rather than ten.
That was the moment he picked up the remote and turned it off.
In the darkness, his eyes are wide and unblinking. His dreams are scaring him and what he just saw (and his imaginations) is running wild in his head, the pessimistic side of him feeding him unwanted thoughts of being left out forever.
He sleeps with the lights on later.
//
It’s another day of school.
He’s been avoiding them for the longest time and maybe he’ll be able to again today. After all, he succeeded in doing so for the past weeks, right?
The first week he avoided them because Yamada wasn’t someone he’d like to cross path with under those circumstances and he cares for his life at that point.
The first week his phone had been ringing non-stop with all the incoming mails.
None of them are from them. He knows it’s not their fault but the naive part of him wished they’d take a risk for a while.
(he doesn’t check his house’s mailbox, because there’re nine letters just sitting there under all the bills and pamphlets of some supermarket offers.)
//
His mom subscribed to all the magazines he used to be in.
Used to.
He decides that he hates the past tense from then on. It never does anyone good to dwell in the past, isn’t it?
Those magazines somehow find their way to his room.
(no, he’s not interested in them. Really.)
Those glossy pages are mocking him in all their shiny, colourful glory but he can’t stop himself from reading interviews and flipping through it like some twelve year-old fangirl.
The one-page spread of them stays with him that night, deeply imprinted in his mind with that little devil at the back of his head saying how well they fit the page now.
He still sleeps with the lights on.
//
When he gets the message that he’ll come back right after his suspension period is over, he stays rooted in his place.
The backlight of his phone dims and he’s still staring the little screen.
(he’s in town at the moment.)
People are passing by him without a care about the boy gripping his metallic phone tightly, in front of a bookshop, unblinking, unmoving.
He doesn’t know how long he stayed that way but by the time his phone chimes again, signalling a mail from his mom asking of his whereabouts, the sky already turned orange with pink hues.
//
He’s scared of stepping back into the same room he’s left a few months prior.
The moment he pushes the door open, he’s greeted with a lively chorus of “Okaeri!”
Nine bodies immediately launch themselves on him and he struggles to stay on his feet but it’s okay. It’s okay because it makes it more real, all those bad dreams are dissipating one by one from his memories and are replaced by these new memories he’s currently making.
And all he could say after that is, “tadaima.”
thanks for reading~