[08.a] Just Another Split in the Seam {1/3}
Title: Just Another Split in the Seam (1/2)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Akame
Summary: Jin hasn't been home for a month when Kame goes and totals his car.
Jin hasn't been home for a month when Kame goes and totals his car. Jin learns it from Ueda the next morning, who learns it from Nakamaru, who knows it... well, no one is quite sure where Nakamaru gets his information from.
But the point is not that. The point is: Jin has to hear it from someone else.
"Don't worry, he's okay," Ueda assures him, his words melting into a distant white noise over the frantic staccato of Jin's heartbeats. "Jin? Jin, are you listening? He's fi--"
Jin holds his phone away from his ear, blinking at it for a few moments before slamming it shut.
--
People stare at him in the street and later in the Jimusho building like he's the most interesting freak show they've ever seen. Jin doesn't care. He doesn't care when he bumps into a group of Juniors gossipping in front of the elevator, sending them scattering in all directions of the wind. He punches the right button and lets his forehead thump gently against the smooth metal wall, the barely there tug and lurch of movement he would normally not even notice now making him sick to the stomach.
He thinks of Kame. Kame and his pale skin and thin lips and perfect hair, Kame and his weird jokes which are often worse than Taguchi's worst pun but it's cute when Kame giggles at himself anyway so no one ever bothers to tell him off. Kame and his professionalism, the way he would wrinkle those elegant eyebrows whenever he thinks Jin is being stupid (it happens fairly often). Kame and his laughter. Kame and his silence. Kame and the tears he doesn't let anyone see, not even Jin. Especially not Jin.
The elevator doors slide open. Jin flies down the corridor and thinks; 'Kame Kame Kame Kamekamekamekamekame'.
He pushes the door open with clammy hands. The world is in slow motion. Jin thinks he might pass out any moment now, because what if Tatsuya was wrong, what if Kame is not alright, what if--
"You're blocking the way, idiot," Koki drawls, shouldering past Jin. He pauses to give Jin a quizzical once-over. "Hey, are you alright?"
Jin stares back at him wildly.
Koki snorts and shakes his head. "Weirdo," he mutters, before rising his voice. "Morning, everyone."
"Morning," Nakamaru echoes from behind his magazine.
Kame raises his hand in a small wave, frowning when Jin just keeps staring at him. "Jin?"
Jin promptly turns on his heels.
"Does anyone know what's up with him?" he hears Koki ask the room in general, but then he's too far to hear if anyone bothers to reply. What the hell do they know, anyway.
--
"It was just a rear-ender," Kame is explaining when Jin returns to the practice room a good half an hour later, now with an even emptier stomach than he already had due to his missed breakfast.
The conversation dies when he walks through the door, and now there are five pairs of eyes regarding him carefully. It's like LA all over again; KT-TUN versus Jin. Jin, the weirdo, always the odd man out.
"Jin? Are you alright?" Kame asks gently.
Jin wants to laugh. Or cry. Or just scream and scream until his voice is gone and all of his fears magically evaporate, until he doesn't remember the violently vivid mental images Ueda's call aroused.
"Jin, did something happen? Please say something," Kame pleads, and his frown deepens -- Jin hates it when he does that, he's told him a gazillion times that he's going to look like an old man by the time they are thirty.
"Yeah, you're freaking us out," Koki adds, and if Jin weren't so rattled, he would point and laugh and tell Koki that small fluffy kittens are enough to freak him out, because Koki is secretly a big sissy like that.
But Jin doesn't. What Jin asks instead is; "Why didn't you call me?" His voice sounds small to his own ears, thin and childlike and if Pi was here now, he's sure he would give Jin a hug.
He can see the dawning understanding in Kame's eyes. Kame is sharp like that; can read people and the atmosphere well.
"Oh, Jin," Kame says. He pauses and sucks on his bottom lip, like he doesn't know how to proceed. He looks like a man facing some big scary animal ready to pounce, except Jin feels like anything but big and scary. He feels fragile and thinks that Kame can probably see that, too.
Nakamaru chooses that precise moment to exclaim; "Practice!" in his booming, enthusiastic MC voice. Jin could kiss him right then.
"Um, right," Ueda puts it, shrinking in his seat when everyone turns to look at him. He shrugs. "We are definitely beyond schedule."
--
Fourteen hours later, Jin is sitting on Kame's off-white couch, clutching a throw pillow to his chest as he listens to Kame clutter around in the kitchen. Jin doesn't want to be here; he's still a bit queasy after everything that's happened in the morning (that is to say, what he's put himself through). He's also embarrassed as hell for freaking out on everyone like that and stumbling through the day like a sleepwalker, making even more mistakes than he would have made otherwise in the still unfamiliar choreography.
Kame walks back into the room, smiling a bit when he sees Jin abusing his pillow. Jin immediately puts it aside. He's always playing with Kame's pillows, the magazines and scripts and bills thrown across his coffee table. Jin thinks he's like a relative's stupid kid that way, someone Kame didn't want to watch but does anyway, out of politeness and maybe a sense of obligation. It makes Jin sad, to think he's just one of Kame's various unpleasant obligations.
"No cream, lots of sugar," Kame says as he presses a mug in Jin's hands and settles on the coffee table, facing him.
The ceramic is warm but not scorching. The mug is yellow, a corny shade of sunshine with little ducks under the brim. Kame's had it for as long as Jin can remember, but he's never asked where he'd gotten it. Maybe it was an ex-girlfriend's or something. If so, Jin doesn't want to know.
"--was just... Are you listening to me?"
Jin jumps, almost spilling his coffee but managing to save it in the last moment. "Yes, listening!"
Kame rolls his eyes. "No, you are not. You're spacey. Spacier than usual. What's up?"
Jin shrugs and lifts his mug to his lips, taking a sip, two. Way too much sugar, but he doesn't have the heart to tell Kame that he's been drinking his coffee black for the past three years. It would be like another split in the seam.
Kame sighs. "Look, I'm sorry for not calling you. I didn't call anyone, if that makes you feel better. Only my brother, he drove me home. Jin, it was just. It was just a rear-ender, nothing big."
"Let me be the judge of that, okay?" Jin snaps.
Kame blinks at him, startled, wide-eyed.
"Next time, let me be the judge of that," Jin repeats quietly. "Whatever happens to you, I... I want to know, okay? Even if it's just something stupid and unimportant and you think it would just annoy me or something, you have to tell me because whatever it is, I promise I won't get mad or anything and even if it's--"
"Jin--"
"--the middle of the fucking night or something, you have to call me, Kame, you have to, because you used to but you never do anymore and it's, it's driving me batshit." Jin pauses to take a breath. He hates the way his voice cracks, the air trapped in his lungs. "We used to be best friends, remember?"
Part 2
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Akame
Summary: Jin hasn't been home for a month when Kame goes and totals his car.
Jin hasn't been home for a month when Kame goes and totals his car. Jin learns it from Ueda the next morning, who learns it from Nakamaru, who knows it... well, no one is quite sure where Nakamaru gets his information from.
But the point is not that. The point is: Jin has to hear it from someone else.
"Don't worry, he's okay," Ueda assures him, his words melting into a distant white noise over the frantic staccato of Jin's heartbeats. "Jin? Jin, are you listening? He's fi--"
Jin holds his phone away from his ear, blinking at it for a few moments before slamming it shut.
--
People stare at him in the street and later in the Jimusho building like he's the most interesting freak show they've ever seen. Jin doesn't care. He doesn't care when he bumps into a group of Juniors gossipping in front of the elevator, sending them scattering in all directions of the wind. He punches the right button and lets his forehead thump gently against the smooth metal wall, the barely there tug and lurch of movement he would normally not even notice now making him sick to the stomach.
He thinks of Kame. Kame and his pale skin and thin lips and perfect hair, Kame and his weird jokes which are often worse than Taguchi's worst pun but it's cute when Kame giggles at himself anyway so no one ever bothers to tell him off. Kame and his professionalism, the way he would wrinkle those elegant eyebrows whenever he thinks Jin is being stupid (it happens fairly often). Kame and his laughter. Kame and his silence. Kame and the tears he doesn't let anyone see, not even Jin. Especially not Jin.
The elevator doors slide open. Jin flies down the corridor and thinks; 'Kame Kame Kame Kamekamekamekamekame'.
He pushes the door open with clammy hands. The world is in slow motion. Jin thinks he might pass out any moment now, because what if Tatsuya was wrong, what if Kame is not alright, what if--
"You're blocking the way, idiot," Koki drawls, shouldering past Jin. He pauses to give Jin a quizzical once-over. "Hey, are you alright?"
Jin stares back at him wildly.
Koki snorts and shakes his head. "Weirdo," he mutters, before rising his voice. "Morning, everyone."
"Morning," Nakamaru echoes from behind his magazine.
Kame raises his hand in a small wave, frowning when Jin just keeps staring at him. "Jin?"
Jin promptly turns on his heels.
"Does anyone know what's up with him?" he hears Koki ask the room in general, but then he's too far to hear if anyone bothers to reply. What the hell do they know, anyway.
--
"It was just a rear-ender," Kame is explaining when Jin returns to the practice room a good half an hour later, now with an even emptier stomach than he already had due to his missed breakfast.
The conversation dies when he walks through the door, and now there are five pairs of eyes regarding him carefully. It's like LA all over again; KT-TUN versus Jin. Jin, the weirdo, always the odd man out.
"Jin? Are you alright?" Kame asks gently.
Jin wants to laugh. Or cry. Or just scream and scream until his voice is gone and all of his fears magically evaporate, until he doesn't remember the violently vivid mental images Ueda's call aroused.
"Jin, did something happen? Please say something," Kame pleads, and his frown deepens -- Jin hates it when he does that, he's told him a gazillion times that he's going to look like an old man by the time they are thirty.
"Yeah, you're freaking us out," Koki adds, and if Jin weren't so rattled, he would point and laugh and tell Koki that small fluffy kittens are enough to freak him out, because Koki is secretly a big sissy like that.
But Jin doesn't. What Jin asks instead is; "Why didn't you call me?" His voice sounds small to his own ears, thin and childlike and if Pi was here now, he's sure he would give Jin a hug.
He can see the dawning understanding in Kame's eyes. Kame is sharp like that; can read people and the atmosphere well.
"Oh, Jin," Kame says. He pauses and sucks on his bottom lip, like he doesn't know how to proceed. He looks like a man facing some big scary animal ready to pounce, except Jin feels like anything but big and scary. He feels fragile and thinks that Kame can probably see that, too.
Nakamaru chooses that precise moment to exclaim; "Practice!" in his booming, enthusiastic MC voice. Jin could kiss him right then.
"Um, right," Ueda puts it, shrinking in his seat when everyone turns to look at him. He shrugs. "We are definitely beyond schedule."
--
Fourteen hours later, Jin is sitting on Kame's off-white couch, clutching a throw pillow to his chest as he listens to Kame clutter around in the kitchen. Jin doesn't want to be here; he's still a bit queasy after everything that's happened in the morning (that is to say, what he's put himself through). He's also embarrassed as hell for freaking out on everyone like that and stumbling through the day like a sleepwalker, making even more mistakes than he would have made otherwise in the still unfamiliar choreography.
Kame walks back into the room, smiling a bit when he sees Jin abusing his pillow. Jin immediately puts it aside. He's always playing with Kame's pillows, the magazines and scripts and bills thrown across his coffee table. Jin thinks he's like a relative's stupid kid that way, someone Kame didn't want to watch but does anyway, out of politeness and maybe a sense of obligation. It makes Jin sad, to think he's just one of Kame's various unpleasant obligations.
"No cream, lots of sugar," Kame says as he presses a mug in Jin's hands and settles on the coffee table, facing him.
The ceramic is warm but not scorching. The mug is yellow, a corny shade of sunshine with little ducks under the brim. Kame's had it for as long as Jin can remember, but he's never asked where he'd gotten it. Maybe it was an ex-girlfriend's or something. If so, Jin doesn't want to know.
"--was just... Are you listening to me?"
Jin jumps, almost spilling his coffee but managing to save it in the last moment. "Yes, listening!"
Kame rolls his eyes. "No, you are not. You're spacey. Spacier than usual. What's up?"
Jin shrugs and lifts his mug to his lips, taking a sip, two. Way too much sugar, but he doesn't have the heart to tell Kame that he's been drinking his coffee black for the past three years. It would be like another split in the seam.
Kame sighs. "Look, I'm sorry for not calling you. I didn't call anyone, if that makes you feel better. Only my brother, he drove me home. Jin, it was just. It was just a rear-ender, nothing big."
"Let me be the judge of that, okay?" Jin snaps.
Kame blinks at him, startled, wide-eyed.
"Next time, let me be the judge of that," Jin repeats quietly. "Whatever happens to you, I... I want to know, okay? Even if it's just something stupid and unimportant and you think it would just annoy me or something, you have to tell me because whatever it is, I promise I won't get mad or anything and even if it's--"
"Jin--"
"--the middle of the fucking night or something, you have to call me, Kame, you have to, because you used to but you never do anymore and it's, it's driving me batshit." Jin pauses to take a breath. He hates the way his voice cracks, the air trapped in his lungs. "We used to be best friends, remember?"
Part 2