(no subject)
Title: Life is Hard, Therefore Happy
Author: Bo
Pairing(s): Ohno/Arashi, Ohmiya
Rating: PG
Genre: I think Leader deserves his own genre because this is. Just. Ohno.
Word Count: 1,699
Disclaimer(s): Do not own. Am not making money.
Warning(s): Complete lack of plot.
Summary: Ohno's life can be described in one word.
Notes: Only Leader's birthday can make me stay up until one and get up again at six on a school day. I'm not too sure about this one, though; Ohno's thought process is so different from Jun's, and it's so beautiful but I can never get it down right and I felt like I was learning how to write all over again. But I certainly had fun. =)
Ohno knows he is supposed to find life difficult, but sometimes it’s hard because he sees love everywhere. It caresses him in colors, touches him in shapes. It seeps into his fingers when he sinks them into clay. He sees it in concerts, in the eyes of the fans, in every drop of sweat, in every snap of the stage light.
And there is the train. He sees love in each and every pair of shoes that steps onto the cart, he sees love in the curve of perfectly glossed lips, he sees love on the shoulders of a father upon which a child rides, bouncing in fits of jubilant excitement. He sees love in the lively flowers that soar across the fabric of a yukata (there are many of them today, bright bursts of color drifting slowly across the street and into the station, almost like a mini-fireworks display in slow motion), each complimenting the laughter of the girl wearing it.
The tracks curve and the train swerves, pushing Ohno to the left. The large bag he has trapped between his feet slides an inch or so backward, and Ohno reaches down in an attempt to stop it. However, the amount of people currently packed in the train makes the attempt difficult, and all Ohno manages to achieve is a flail and a small grunt. Jun, standing in front of him, rolls his eyes behind his sunglasses and bends down a bit, grabs hold of the bag and shoulders it in one quick, fluid motion. He looks down at Leader with his Why Am I So Much Smarter Than You look, and Ohno grins shyly, which makes Jun’s expression break into a smile, one of those You’re Stupid But I Love You So I Forgive You smiles. Aiba fidgets next to them, drumming an erratic rhythm against his thigh with a long finger. Sho’s shoulder is pressed tight against Ohno’s on the right. Another curve in the path brings Nino lurching into Ohno from the left, and the older man steadies him with a hand on his hip as he breathes in the fresh smell of Nino’s shampoo. And it all reminds Ohno why the prospect of being squeezed into a train like sardines in a can never seems forlorn, because he is being squeezed on all sides by people he loves, so in a way it’s like a very long group hug.
The train slows to a stop, and an exodus of yukatas pour out of the carts like waves of multicolored confetti. Ohno is ushered forward by the flood of people behind him, and he holds onto Nino’s hand to keep from being swept away. Jun turns his head to check that they are following him, struggling to stand straight as the bag he has on his shoulder pushes against the flow of people next to him. Sho is somewhere in front, and Ohno can see him tugging at the edge of Aiba’s green shirt, either to hurry him along or to make sure he doesn’t get lost, which is more than likely considering the way Aiba’s head keeps snapping left to right, his grin a mile wide as he takes in the fantastic scene of hundreds of heads and thousands of colors cram into such a small space. It is the annual Edogawa fireworks festival, held every August at the Edogawa River, and like everyone else, they are going to watch it.
A shoulder thrust against Nino and almost knocks off his cap. Nino quickly pulls it down low over his face, but the hundreds of eyes around them are roaming all over, never lingering in one place for more than a few seconds. Ohno smiles to himself. People never see people who are right in front of them.
Somehow they make it out of the train station all in one piece. Aiba leads the way now, humming happily to himself as he swings the ice box in his hand back and forth like a pendulum. He almost hits several children in the back of the head with it, and Sho places an admonishing hand on Aiba’s wrist to prevent unwanted massacre. The taller man tries to defend himself (“I’m not that stupid!”) but the sentence is broken by giggles, and as they argue Ohno watches love flow from Sho’s fingertips into Aiba’s skin, from Aiba’s words into Sho’s eyes.
The broad Edogawa River is nestled between gently sloping hills on either side, and Ohno stands on top of one of the hills for a long minute, drinking in the scene. He loves coming to the festival not really because of the fireworks, spectacular though they are, but because of this. The hill is a vast expanse of green, the river a thick, opal blue. Plastic blankets line up on the grass in a scattered sort of neatness, and people weave between them, calling friends, waving to each other, laughing, eating, drinking. The sky is a dome of endless blue, with no cloud in sight, and Ohno is sure that he has grown taller, because he feels closer to it than ever before. He revels within it all, breathing in the scent of pizzas and beer and a hint of cigarette smoke, mixed with the warm smell of the wind and people’s conversations. His heart soars away from the city streets, out of cars and meeting rooms, beyond cameras and spotlights, and, for a moment, Ohno feels like even his blood is singing with bliss.
Sho’s voice calls him away from his observations and asks him to set the plates. Ohno turns out the contents of several bags until Jun swats him away and takes over the search, finding the disposable plates in the first place he looks. Aiba and Nino have spread a large blanket across the grass, claiming their own little piece of land. They always watch the festival from this same spot, a little ways away from the crowd where they can talk in private but still enjoy the whole view of the river.
Sho and Ohno arrange the bentou boxes and Nino pulls out a roll of toast; Aiba takes five cans of beer from the ice box and sets them down in the middle of all the food. They each take one and there is a symphony of hissing foam as the cans are opened.
“Well then,” Jun says, his drink hovering in the air. A small smile plays at his lips. “To the summer.”
“To all summers,” Sho adds, and even though it is clichéd it is oddly fitting, because, Ohno suspected, love is the oldest cliché there ever existed and it still works.
They eat and drink and talk, letting their conversations spin off in all directions, letting their minds and bodies rest. The sky soon turns a smoky, hazy blue, and a woman’s voice echoes across the river, announcing the start of the show and inviting them to count down. The voices of the people rise in a wave as they shout out the numbers, and Arashi’s voice is somewhere within it. At “ONE!” the fireworks erupt from a glistening image of Mount Fuji that shimmers over the river’s dark surface. The colors sparkle in the air before dissipating and being swallowed by smoke, but another beautiful, blinding explosion quickly follows and the crowd cheers in admiration. Series of fireworks ignited in rapid succession, staining the sky in all sorts of colors, leaving streaks of light in Ohno’s eyes and his lips sore from grinning so much.
Time slides by so quietly he barely notices its passing. The next time Ohno looks at Sho’s watch the show is almost near its dazzling end, and the sky is a bright black tainted gray by all the smoke. And Ohno realizes that even though his life is dictated by schedules and meetings and time tables, he is glad for the order, because without it he will fall to pieces. Time flies fastest when he is doing something he loves, and for the past ten years he has been doing exactly that.
Sometime during the show Aiba has made himself comfortable, his head resting on Sho’s lap. Sho’s face is tilted towards the sky, his mouth a little open as he watches. Jun is on his back, his arms pillowing his head, grinning up at the flames in the sky in a way that is completely different from the nonchalant, sophisticated smile he wears for the cameras.
There is a warmth on his hand and Ohno looks up into Nino’s eyes, and Nino is smiling, too, and his fingers slid around Ohno’s and he presses love into his palm.
And Ohno no longer just sees love; he feels it with every part of him, with every cell of his body. He breathes it like air, drinks it in with his eyes, hears it humming gently in his ears. He tastes it as he leans in almost unconsciously to kiss Nino, feels it slide against his tongue.
And he hears Aiba complaining about how they have dropped into their own world again, and sees from the corner of his eye Sho pulling him close and kissing him to shut him up. Jun rolls his eyes and mutters something about them all being helpless, but he laughs anyway when Aiba and Sho pin him down on the grass and lean in to press wet kisses on both of his cheeks. The laughter turns into a cry as a million colors explode above them, drenching them in a tall-tale spectrum of pulsating light as the last and biggest firework blinks out in the air.
And the display is over, which means summer will be soon, which means so many other things that Ohno can’t really translate them into thoughts yet. For now, they are just feelings that he perceives through his senses, like the bright flowing blossoms of a yukata, like the sharp whistling of the fireworks shooting up into the sky, like the taste of Nino leftover on his tongue.
Sometimes he finds it hard to think that life is difficult, because Ohno finds love in so many things, and therefore, happiness.
Happy birthday, Leader! <3
Author: Bo
Pairing(s): Ohno/Arashi, Ohmiya
Rating: PG
Genre: I think Leader deserves his own genre because this is. Just. Ohno.
Word Count: 1,699
Disclaimer(s): Do not own. Am not making money.
Warning(s): Complete lack of plot.
Summary: Ohno's life can be described in one word.
Notes: Only Leader's birthday can make me stay up until one and get up again at six on a school day. I'm not too sure about this one, though; Ohno's thought process is so different from Jun's, and it's so beautiful but I can never get it down right and I felt like I was learning how to write all over again. But I certainly had fun. =)
Ohno knows he is supposed to find life difficult, but sometimes it’s hard because he sees love everywhere. It caresses him in colors, touches him in shapes. It seeps into his fingers when he sinks them into clay. He sees it in concerts, in the eyes of the fans, in every drop of sweat, in every snap of the stage light.
And there is the train. He sees love in each and every pair of shoes that steps onto the cart, he sees love in the curve of perfectly glossed lips, he sees love on the shoulders of a father upon which a child rides, bouncing in fits of jubilant excitement. He sees love in the lively flowers that soar across the fabric of a yukata (there are many of them today, bright bursts of color drifting slowly across the street and into the station, almost like a mini-fireworks display in slow motion), each complimenting the laughter of the girl wearing it.
The tracks curve and the train swerves, pushing Ohno to the left. The large bag he has trapped between his feet slides an inch or so backward, and Ohno reaches down in an attempt to stop it. However, the amount of people currently packed in the train makes the attempt difficult, and all Ohno manages to achieve is a flail and a small grunt. Jun, standing in front of him, rolls his eyes behind his sunglasses and bends down a bit, grabs hold of the bag and shoulders it in one quick, fluid motion. He looks down at Leader with his Why Am I So Much Smarter Than You look, and Ohno grins shyly, which makes Jun’s expression break into a smile, one of those You’re Stupid But I Love You So I Forgive You smiles. Aiba fidgets next to them, drumming an erratic rhythm against his thigh with a long finger. Sho’s shoulder is pressed tight against Ohno’s on the right. Another curve in the path brings Nino lurching into Ohno from the left, and the older man steadies him with a hand on his hip as he breathes in the fresh smell of Nino’s shampoo. And it all reminds Ohno why the prospect of being squeezed into a train like sardines in a can never seems forlorn, because he is being squeezed on all sides by people he loves, so in a way it’s like a very long group hug.
The train slows to a stop, and an exodus of yukatas pour out of the carts like waves of multicolored confetti. Ohno is ushered forward by the flood of people behind him, and he holds onto Nino’s hand to keep from being swept away. Jun turns his head to check that they are following him, struggling to stand straight as the bag he has on his shoulder pushes against the flow of people next to him. Sho is somewhere in front, and Ohno can see him tugging at the edge of Aiba’s green shirt, either to hurry him along or to make sure he doesn’t get lost, which is more than likely considering the way Aiba’s head keeps snapping left to right, his grin a mile wide as he takes in the fantastic scene of hundreds of heads and thousands of colors cram into such a small space. It is the annual Edogawa fireworks festival, held every August at the Edogawa River, and like everyone else, they are going to watch it.
A shoulder thrust against Nino and almost knocks off his cap. Nino quickly pulls it down low over his face, but the hundreds of eyes around them are roaming all over, never lingering in one place for more than a few seconds. Ohno smiles to himself. People never see people who are right in front of them.
Somehow they make it out of the train station all in one piece. Aiba leads the way now, humming happily to himself as he swings the ice box in his hand back and forth like a pendulum. He almost hits several children in the back of the head with it, and Sho places an admonishing hand on Aiba’s wrist to prevent unwanted massacre. The taller man tries to defend himself (“I’m not that stupid!”) but the sentence is broken by giggles, and as they argue Ohno watches love flow from Sho’s fingertips into Aiba’s skin, from Aiba’s words into Sho’s eyes.
The broad Edogawa River is nestled between gently sloping hills on either side, and Ohno stands on top of one of the hills for a long minute, drinking in the scene. He loves coming to the festival not really because of the fireworks, spectacular though they are, but because of this. The hill is a vast expanse of green, the river a thick, opal blue. Plastic blankets line up on the grass in a scattered sort of neatness, and people weave between them, calling friends, waving to each other, laughing, eating, drinking. The sky is a dome of endless blue, with no cloud in sight, and Ohno is sure that he has grown taller, because he feels closer to it than ever before. He revels within it all, breathing in the scent of pizzas and beer and a hint of cigarette smoke, mixed with the warm smell of the wind and people’s conversations. His heart soars away from the city streets, out of cars and meeting rooms, beyond cameras and spotlights, and, for a moment, Ohno feels like even his blood is singing with bliss.
Sho’s voice calls him away from his observations and asks him to set the plates. Ohno turns out the contents of several bags until Jun swats him away and takes over the search, finding the disposable plates in the first place he looks. Aiba and Nino have spread a large blanket across the grass, claiming their own little piece of land. They always watch the festival from this same spot, a little ways away from the crowd where they can talk in private but still enjoy the whole view of the river.
Sho and Ohno arrange the bentou boxes and Nino pulls out a roll of toast; Aiba takes five cans of beer from the ice box and sets them down in the middle of all the food. They each take one and there is a symphony of hissing foam as the cans are opened.
“Well then,” Jun says, his drink hovering in the air. A small smile plays at his lips. “To the summer.”
“To all summers,” Sho adds, and even though it is clichéd it is oddly fitting, because, Ohno suspected, love is the oldest cliché there ever existed and it still works.
They eat and drink and talk, letting their conversations spin off in all directions, letting their minds and bodies rest. The sky soon turns a smoky, hazy blue, and a woman’s voice echoes across the river, announcing the start of the show and inviting them to count down. The voices of the people rise in a wave as they shout out the numbers, and Arashi’s voice is somewhere within it. At “ONE!” the fireworks erupt from a glistening image of Mount Fuji that shimmers over the river’s dark surface. The colors sparkle in the air before dissipating and being swallowed by smoke, but another beautiful, blinding explosion quickly follows and the crowd cheers in admiration. Series of fireworks ignited in rapid succession, staining the sky in all sorts of colors, leaving streaks of light in Ohno’s eyes and his lips sore from grinning so much.
Time slides by so quietly he barely notices its passing. The next time Ohno looks at Sho’s watch the show is almost near its dazzling end, and the sky is a bright black tainted gray by all the smoke. And Ohno realizes that even though his life is dictated by schedules and meetings and time tables, he is glad for the order, because without it he will fall to pieces. Time flies fastest when he is doing something he loves, and for the past ten years he has been doing exactly that.
Sometime during the show Aiba has made himself comfortable, his head resting on Sho’s lap. Sho’s face is tilted towards the sky, his mouth a little open as he watches. Jun is on his back, his arms pillowing his head, grinning up at the flames in the sky in a way that is completely different from the nonchalant, sophisticated smile he wears for the cameras.
There is a warmth on his hand and Ohno looks up into Nino’s eyes, and Nino is smiling, too, and his fingers slid around Ohno’s and he presses love into his palm.
And Ohno no longer just sees love; he feels it with every part of him, with every cell of his body. He breathes it like air, drinks it in with his eyes, hears it humming gently in his ears. He tastes it as he leans in almost unconsciously to kiss Nino, feels it slide against his tongue.
And he hears Aiba complaining about how they have dropped into their own world again, and sees from the corner of his eye Sho pulling him close and kissing him to shut him up. Jun rolls his eyes and mutters something about them all being helpless, but he laughs anyway when Aiba and Sho pin him down on the grass and lean in to press wet kisses on both of his cheeks. The laughter turns into a cry as a million colors explode above them, drenching them in a tall-tale spectrum of pulsating light as the last and biggest firework blinks out in the air.
And the display is over, which means summer will be soon, which means so many other things that Ohno can’t really translate them into thoughts yet. For now, they are just feelings that he perceives through his senses, like the bright flowing blossoms of a yukata, like the sharp whistling of the fireworks shooting up into the sky, like the taste of Nino leftover on his tongue.
Sometimes he finds it hard to think that life is difficult, because Ohno finds love in so many things, and therefore, happiness.
Happy birthday, Leader! <3