I want to be your secret (13-15/26)
Title: I want to be your secret
Pairing: Ryopi
Genre: AU / Drama / Friendship / Romance
Rating: PG-13 (swearing)
Summary: Pi is a Johnny's idol and Ryo is a salaryman living in the same apartment building. Despite coming from different worlds, they form a friendship that ends up being a pillar of support through the various trials they encounter, slowly developing into something much, much more.
Word count: 5118
Disclaimer: Miney miney mine.
A/N: Three chapters today as thanks for beautiful comments ♥
Chapter Thirteen - Holiday, Celebrate
They’ve been driving for almost an hour now. Pi’s hardly noticed the changes in scenery or the way the sun has risen higher overhead. Pi’s got his eyes trained on other things.
He watches Ryo shift gears as they turn onto the highway; the way his shirt creases at the shoulder, the relaxed confidence as he merges lanes and checks his rear-view mirror, and the tapping of his index finger on the wheel in time to the music on the radio. Every now and then he glances at the directions and seems to nod to himself, and Pi watches and tries not to blink.
Pi doesn’t know why, but it’s hypnotising. He’s probably been looking at him for half an hour or more but he’s not sure - time is something he no longer seems to have a handle on. He wonders how Ryo can always seem to emanate an aura of overly confident self-assurance - there is not one ounce of detectable hesitation. He acts like his first time is his hundredth. Even if Ryo tells him otherwise, his actions seem impenetrable.
“You’re staring at me,” Ryo states after a while, only briefly flicking his eyes off the road to glance at Pi.
“Yeah,” Pi says, swallowing.
Ryo looks over his shoulder before switching into the exit lane, and Pi watches the cords in his neck tense and disappear.
“Why?” Ryo asks, eyes once again focussed on the road ahead. His tone isn’t accusatory; just inquisitive.
“I don’t know,” Pi answers honestly, squirming back against the soft leather seat. His fingers seem to be trying to perform tricks, folding and unfolding themselves in mysterious and unprovoked ways like a ghost working origami. Still, his eyes never leave Ryo for a moment.
“I don’t think I can stop,” Pi says, and his truthfulness is beginning to disconcert him. Like the rest of his body, his mouth appears to have taken on a life of its own. Ever so slowly, Pi is beginning to realise that it’s always been this way - he’s never wanted to hide things from Ryo, never been able to really.
“Is it bothering you?” he asks, sucking in his cheeks.
Ryo doesn’t reply immediately, as if he’s truly considering the question, and Pi’s heart begins to make the short descent down towards his gut.
Ryo just takes another look at the directions on the GPS before signalling right and sliding to a stop at a set of traffic lights.
He turns to Pi and holds his gaze, eyes shadowed and opaque.
“No,” he says shortly, and gives a little shrug. “Although I can’t say I see the interest, it doesn’t bother me. Should I be bothered?” Ryo tilts his head in question.
Pi breathes in deeply and some part of him regurgitates the words he’s been dying to ask for the past couple of weeks - the words that he’s unsuccessfully buried under layers of insecurity.
“It really doesn’t bother you, does it?”
“What?” Ryo asks, and Pi can see he is genuinely confused, in an I’m-about-to-get-frustrated-really-soon kind of way.
“About me being the way I am,” Pi says, raising an eyebrow for emphasis. His heart bangs around in his ribs like a bird in a cage.
A light dawns on Ryo’s face, and he visibly relaxes, muscles smoothing out.
“Why the fuck would it bother me?” Ryo responds, and he turns back to the road, shifting into first then second gear as the lights turn green. “What kind of person do you take me for?”
The best kind, Pi wants to say, but he’s managed to reclaim some kind of control of his mouth. He clasps his hands to still his itching fingers, and says the only other thing he can think of.
“Thanks.”
Ryo rolls his eyes and reaches out to whack Pi over the head, but there’s a smirk on his lips.
“Dumbarse.”
Pi grins, and he adjusts himself in his seat so he doesn’t have to stare at Ryo from such an awkward angle anymore.
*
Ryo ends up driving all the way there. Finally pulling up to their hotel, he tries to ignore the feeling of discomfort when he steps out of the car, sighing with discontent. Seeing Ryo’s face, Pi gives him a questioning look.
“I just wanted it to last a bit longer,” Ryo says, before grabbing their luggage and making their way to reception.
MLIT had booked out the majority of hotels in the region, and Ryo had been placed in a small hotel in the centre of the city with modern Western-style rooms.
“It’s nice,” Pi comments, looking around at the dark wooden beams and golden-hued lights while Ryo checks them in. There are wide windows facing the outside gardens and everything is open and bright. Inside, Pi feels like he can breathe in air more refreshing than when they first stepped out of the car.
Ryo gives him a funny look. “I think you’ve been to bigger and better hotels than this,” he says sceptically.
Pi’s about the respond but the bellboy has taken up their bags and is making his way around to the ground floor twin suite, opening the door for them and indicating where their slippers are.
Pi raises an eyebrow when Ryo slips the kid a twenty, but Ryo just shrugs and kicks off his shoes, making his way into the room.
There’s a wide white arc-shaped couch, clean white pressed-down sheets and golden curtains. Soft tan carpet spreads out over the floor reaching white walls and dark wooden panels, while the roof is covered in recessed lights that fill the room with a warm muted glow.
Pi collapses on the bed and sighs blissfully when it merely cushions and moulds into his body shape.
“Seriously?” Ryo asks, collapsing back on his own bed. Then, “Wow. Let’s stay like this forever, okay?” with a voice that whispers to wood.
“Yeah, okay,” Pi responds, and there’s a smile on his lips as he contemplates the possibility.
*
They spend the rest of the day exploring the city. They walk the line from Sendai station to the Asaichi market. They pick up food from stalls and vendors, taking it slow, enjoying being lost in the crowd that knows that these are the essentials for living.
Pi’s chatting randomly to the guy frying them up some yakiniku skewers and Ryo takes a step back to soak in the scene. Pi’s got a laugh that’s halfway between a deep chuckle and a hiccup, and it’s kind of nice, this. Just walking and shallow talking. Pi turns around excitedly with the skewers once they’re done, squeezing his eyes shut with exaggerated euphoria, and bumps into the man waiting behind him and getting chicken oil smeared down the poor man’s shirt. He swears before apologising profusely, hurriedly shoving a fistful of notes into the stunned man’s hands, telling him to buy a new shirt, and Ryo laughs and laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling and a hand coming up to clutch at Pi’s arm. His friend can only look sheepish, while gratefully accepting another round from the bemused vendor.
On the other side of the station they make their way through vintage stores, trailing fingers through clothes, trying to find the most disastrous in design. Ryo would never buy this stuff, can’t stand the idea that other people he doesn’t know have been doing things in his clothes, but Pi buys a belt here and a pair of vintage jeans there, and for once Ryo’s not dying to get out of a shop or becoming bored with playing the waiting game. He fiddles with bag straps and fumbling fingers knock jackets off of hangers, and then Pi comes out of the dressing room going “You don’t think it’s too big, right?” and all Ryo can do is go along with it. He doesn’t even have to try. It’s like they’re moving in their own time, the wheel smoothly slipping into place one well-placed notch at a time. And he likes the way it feels.
*
They end up in a tiny hole in the wall, a drinking spot that Pi stumbled into when Ryo pushed him out of the way of a rogue bicycling grandpa. After a couple drinks Pi’s eyes are dark ebony and his bangs are falling over his eyes in a way that makes Ryo stare; makes him want to count strands and ponder architectural structures and gravitational physics and the charging of particles.
“Big day tomorrow,” says Pi casually, picking at an edamame bean.
Ryo cringes. “Don’t remind me.”
“You’ll be fine,” Pi states with what Ryo thinks of as completely unfounded confidence. “You’ve been working on this for ages; you should just relax and enjoy yourself.”
Ryo traces patterns on the outside of his glass, made-up wishes in cold condensation.
“You’re telling me,” Ryo says slowly, “that you never get nervous before a concert? Before a television show?”
Pi frowns slightly. “That’s different. That’s like tens of thousands of people watching my every move. You just have to walk out and do it.”
“And this,” Ryo emphasises, “is tens of thousands of people, who are naturally critical of the government by the way, who will soon be testing a multimillion dollar venture. This is hundreds of people who are soon going to try their hardest to find a flaw in our plan.”
“I see your point,” Pi concedes. “But it’s going to be fine. Have a little faith in yourself.”
In a sudden move, Pi’s grasping Ryo’s hand across the table.
“You’ll be fine,” he says with feeling.
Ryo swallows, and tells himself that it’s the alcohol that’s making the room spin faintly. Usually it’s him trying to make everything okay, and it takes an effort not to smack away the comfort with disregard.
“You’ll be fine,” Pi repeats, drawing back his hand and turning back to his drink, and all Ryo can think of is how everything about this moment right now is anything but fine.
Chapter Fourteen - Growing
Ryo stumbles his way through a day of bad pronunciation and nervous smiles, in no way helped by frequent texts from Pi, who has been set on seeing the rest of the sights in Sendai, something concerts and drama schedules have never previously allowed.
Ryo didn’t mind his work when he was able to sit in the back and just watch all the hard effort unfold in front of him. He hated his work when he was forced up on a stage during lunch break to make a small thank you speech to heartfelt applause. A part of him couldn’t deny loving the feeling of appreciation, although another part of him said he didn’t need it - he already knew how great he was. Another entirely different part of him was just plain embarrassed and only wanted to head off and go sight-seeing with Pi. And then there was the part that couldn’t seem to forget the flutters of electricity that sparked down his hand where Pi had held it, making him oblivious to the talk going on around him.
Yet, crashing on the hotel room bed after a long day of presentations and discussions and not nearly enough drinking, and hearing Pi call out from the shower a casual “Thanks for your hard work”…
Fuck, Ryo thinks. I might actually like my job.
*
Everything was over before Ryo had even gotten halfway used to it beginning. Before he knows it, the caterers are clearing plates for the last time, banners are being taken down and placed in boxes, and Ryo and Hikaru are escorting the French delegates back to the airport with a “Merci beaucoup” and an “Au revoir” that Ryo hopes isn’t too enthusiastic.
“Thank fuck it’s over!” Hikaru screams into the parking lot as they made their way to the car in a half-exhausted, half-exhilarated state of bliss.
Ryo couldn’t agree more.
“Thank God,” Ryo says, and it comes from deep within his chest. Not only that they had somehow, against all the odds, pulled it off, but also that Sakamoto would be pulling back on the coffee - he had developed a slight twitch just above his left eye over the past two weeks.
“So what are you going to do now?” Hikaru asks, slumping down into the passenger’s seat once they have reached the car. “I saw you asked for a few days off.”
“Well, I actually drove here with a friend,” Ryo replies, easing out of the parking lot. “We’ll stick around for a few days before heading back.”
Him and Pi had barely exchanged two sentences of decent conversation since the conference had begun three days ago, and Ryo’s agitated at how nerve-wracking the prospect of a few days alone is, when a week ago he wouldn’t have given it a second thought.
“A ‘friend’ huh?” Hikaru questions, eyebrows rising and a smirk on his lips.
Ryo narrows his eyes at Hikaru. “You have really pointy teeth, did you know that?”
Hikaru just laughs. “I never would have guessed that you had a girlfriend. You’re so tense all the time! Drives you up the wall does she? Takes up all your time but doesn’t put out?”
“Well, I’m definitely not getting any,” Ryo grimaces, not bothering to even argue with Hikaru’s assumption. Partly because of his sudden realisation of how Hikaru views him, and partly because he’s just beginning to become aware of it - the power that Pi has over him. Lightning quick and unforgiving in its assertion. It’s a crippling thought.
If Ryo is but a mere spoke in the turning wheel, then Pi is the axis, making the whole world spin.
*
They sleep in late the next day and then drive around randomly, before heading towards Michinoku Park. There aren’t many people around. Even though at 15 degrees it’s unusually warm for this time of year, the season means the flowers are no longer in bloom, and the wind too chilly to enjoy the spray of water from the fountains. Ryo and Pi stuff their hands in the pockets of their jackets and walk in circles around the garden, following invisible trails and enjoying the isolation.
Pi stops at a fountain that flows into a larger pool, leaning in close to the clear water, and Ryo gives him a tiny push on his back. He turns around and pushes Ryo back and at Pi’s grin and questioning look Ryo feels his insides beginning to plummet. He really, truly doesn’t understand what’s come over him, but it reminds him of high school and standing in front of the class, and when he was 16 and love appeared to be nothing more than a source of awkward and emotional embarrassment. He doesn’t want to feel like this again, he doesn’t, he doesn’t. Unfortunately, his brain doesn’t seem to register his plea.
“Hey, you looked like you wanted to go for a swim,” Ryo says, shrugging his shoulders and flashing what he hopes is a relaxed smile.
“Sometimes I think you forget that I’m bigger than you, Ryo,” Pi laughs.
“Well, I’m older,” Ryo retaliates.
Pi laughs harder. “Huh? What has that got to do with anything??”
“Whatever,” Ryo says, turning away. “Let’s go this way.”
They finish making their way around the park and Pi insists on going to the gift shop to pick up souvenirs for his mum and sister. Like the park, there’s hardly anyone there, only a few tourists with digital SLRs picking up batteries. Ryo plays with some glass ornaments before reluctantly giving in and reaching for his wallet. Why not, he’s on holiday, so why not.
One of the shop assistants appears to recognise Pi when she sees him looking through the glass cabinets. Ryo watches from the corner of his eye as her hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. As she casually adjusts her dress. As she tries to make small talk after asking him if he needs any help.
She fumbles to get something down from the display for him, clumsily slipping and falling. Pi reaches out automatically, catching her with both arms, and she momentarily ducks her head into his chest with embarrassment.
Ryo realises he’s holding his breath.
Pi smiles politely and excuses himself, disentangling their limbs.
Ryo smirks. He kind of hates himself for it.
*
Ryo’s been acting a little strange all afternoon and Pi can’t quite figure out why. He thinks it might possibly be mental exhaustion from the past few days. Although, that wouldn’t explain the way Ryo keeps turning away suddenly whenever Pi speaks to him, when Pi can feel him staring when he’s not looking. He shrugs internally, and tries not to think it has anything to do with him.
*
They’re lucky that they’re in the last final threads of Autumn. The zelkova trees, reaching up to the sky like grasping hands and unfolding fans, decorate the city in a dying vestige of red and gold.
“Not dying,” Pi tells Ryo. “Just resting.”
Its mid-week now. Adults are working in warmed buildings and children are scraping pencils along the desks of their regimented classrooms. There are hardly any other people walking along the paths towards the banks of the Hirose River, only a few holiday-makers and vendors that offer ingredients to make the customary pork and potato miso soup that characterises both the city and the season.
They walk under the cover of the trees, heading deeper into the cool cathedral of the forest, leaving behind the dark waters of the wide river that flows strong and deep. It’s quiet, oh so quiet. Flickers of golden light dance across their features, casting moving shadows on the grass below. Pi can’t help upturning his face towards the sun, chasing the warmth and light, eyes closed and features relaxed. He almost trips over a branch in their path, but a steady hand tugs at the back of his shirt and pulls him, turns him, faces him towards a small clearing.
They look at each other and stop. It’s time to stop, Pi says in silent communication, seating himself on the grass, long legs extended in front of him.
He leans back, lies down on the grass and stretches his hands up towards the sky, as if embracing the world above. The wind works its way through his bangs, and he feels it, knows it, even though it’s been such a long time.
This is peace.
He closes his eyes against the full glare of the sun, no longer filtered light, and feels Ryo lie down next to him, shifting against the grass, making it crinkle and break.
“Let’s stay here forever,” he whispers, echoing the words that Ryo said only a few days before. The wind picks up, blowing his words across the hills.
“Yeah, okay,” and he can hear Ryo’s smirk in the reply. “Let’s hide out here until the grass grows over us. Who gives a fuck anyway?”
Pi lets his arms fall against his sides in alignment with Ryo’s, the raised hairs on their arms brushing against each other and tickling.
“No one that matters,” he says softly.
Right here and now, Pi feels he’s discovering a completely different part of himself that doesn’t belong to Johnny or Mary or the rest of the whole entire world.
*
They drive home that night in silence. Ryo truly is exhausted so he lets Pi drive, settling himself in the passenger seat, pushing it right down against the back seat. He gives Pi a gratuitous amount of instructions, practically down to the number of traffic lights, and Pi’s nice enough not to mention that he has perfect visual memory - he is a dancer after all. He does roll his eyes a little though - Ryo can be such a mother sometimes.
Pi turns the radio to an easy-listening station, lowering the volume just so, careful not to wake Ryo. He’s already fast asleep, curled up on his side with one hand resting under his head, ashen black eyelashes fluttering slightly in REM sleep. He’s already taking part in invisible adventures, running harder than he’s ever done in reality.
Pi stops the car at a traffic light (possibly Ryo mentioned this one?), and reaches behind him for his jacket, laying it gently around the sleeping boy.
He looks at Ryo’s sleeping face, so serene in the moonlight. The curve of his lower lip, so often caught in a mocking smile, now is anything but - is nothing but hopelessly vulnerable. Pi reaches out and traces the air around his face, every rise and fall, not quite brave enough to touch. The strong lines of his jaw, the bridge of his nose, the curve of his cheekbones. He feels Ryo’s breath warm against his fingers, spreading through his hands and reaching towards his chest, and for a moment (a heart-racing breath-catching moment), Pi almost gives in. But he resists; this is one spell he doesn’t want to break.
The traffic lights flash from red to green and Pi reluctantly faces the road once more.
Chapter Fifteen - Not Welcome Anymore
The next morning, Pi receives a phone call. It rouses him from his position draped across the middle of his bed - the same position he had fallen into once they had made it back to the apartment. He groans and rubs his eyes before grasping for his mobile on the bedside table.
“Hello?” he answers blearily, his voice rough from disuse.
“Yamashita? It’s Shige,” is the nervous response, that wakes Pi up faster than a cup of coffee ever could.
“Yes?” Pi says immediately, sitting up straight.
“Uh…” and it’s all too obvious that the hesitation isn’t the kind that preludes good news.
Pi’s fingers clutch his phone tighter. “For God’s sake Shige, what is it?”
There’s a shaky breath on the other side of the line, then, “I take it you haven’t seen the news yet, have you?”
“What’s on the news?” Pi asks through gritted teeth, already walking into the living room and switching on the television.
He doesn’t need to hear Shige’s reply.
“Oh fuck.”
‘Yamashita Tomohisa was spotted on holiday in Sendai with a mystery woman on Monday afternoon. The woman is rumoured to be his long time lover, and the close couple were captured in a romantic embrace by fellow tourists. The woman refused to talk with the photographer about their relationship, only stating that “Yamapi is a very kind person”.’
It’s the woman from the gift shop, and whoever had taken the picture had managed to time it exactly when he had caught her from falling. Both of his arms are clutching her and he’s leaning into her, and her face seems as if it’s buried in his chest. It does look romantic, and Pi’s stomach suddenly feels tight and empty.
“Oh fuck.”
The news reporter continues to speculate on the nature and length of the relationship, their eagerness to demonstrate their love for one another, even going so far as to wish them the best of luck for the future. Like luck was something Pi had on his side lately.
“What have management said?” Pi finally asks, remembering the phone in his hand and switching off the television. He doesn’t want to listen anymore.
He can almost hear Shige mopping the sweat from his forehead.
“They…they haven’t said anything.”
“What do you mean?” and Pi has a terrible, terrible feeling.
“They…” Shige says, swallowing, “they won’t return my calls.”
There’s a knock at the door and Pi goes over to answer it automatically. He opens it to reveal Ryo standing with his arms crossed awkwardly over his chest.
“Hey, I tried to call you, but I couldn’t get through…” Ryo begins, until he notices Pi’s face - he looks like he’s been stabbed in the gut.
He takes the mobile out of Pi’s hand and says a quick “He’ll call you back,” before guiding Pi over towards the couch.
“I take it you saw the news,” Ryo says quietly, once they are both sitting.
“Yeah,” Pi mumbles. He can’t meet Ryo’s eyes - thinks he’ll only find pity there.
“I can’t believe that bitch,” Ryo scowls, and Pi would be surprised at the extent of his anger but he’s having trouble feeling anything at all. “I can’t believe a fan would sell out their idol.”
Pi shakes his head softly. “I don’t think it was her. She didn’t say anything.”
“But it’s all a lie,” Ryo hisses. “All those lies from one little picture! Don’t they have any shame?”
“I know, Ryo,” Pi says, voice hoarse, pressing his fists into his eyes. “I know, okay?”
Ryo sighs and collapses back on the couch. “What did management say?” Pi can tell that he’s trying to control the emotion in his words.
“They haven’t said anything,” Pi says, hands still covering his eyes. “Ryo…I’m scared. They kind of made it clear that I wasn’t going to get any more chances.”
“Chances? What’s that supposed to mean?” And Ryo wants to grab Pi’s arms and push them down so he can see his face properly.
“I don’t know,” Pi whispers. “I don’t know.”
Ryo scowls again, and Pi’s not sure if it’s meant for the reporters or his agency.
“Look, I have to go to work now,” Ryo says after a pause. “But tell me if anything happens, okay?”
Pi nods, still not looking up.
The couch cushions shift as Ryo gets up, his footsteps muffled on the carpet as he makes his way to the door and lets himself out.
As soon as he hears the door slide shut, Pi allows himself one single terrified and gasped sob before drawing everything inside and composing himself once more. Removing his hands from his swollen red eyes, he decides to get dressed and go and see Mary and Julie in person. More than his fear of reprimand, he’s really scared of the silence - the not knowing. Picking up his mobile he speed-dials Shige.
Shige answers the phone after two rings.
“Meet me outside the agency in an hour,” Pi says, knowing he sounds void of emotion. He hangs up before Shige can reply.
*
He receives about twenty phone calls before he reaches the agency and doesn’t answer a single one. The only reason he doesn’t turn off his phone is in case it’s management calling with news.
When he and Shige reach the building they don’t want to see him. Security tries to block them going into the elevator and even the sweaty accountant makes an appearance, trying to reason and cajole. Pi just takes the stairs, with Shige scampering behind him, clutching his briefcase to his chest. On the president’s floor tiny juniors scuttle to the sides of the hall, moving out of the way as fast as their little legs can carry them and plastering themselves to the walls. As if Pi’s bad fortune might be contagious. He can hardly blame them.
Pi opens the office door with a bang, startling Shige behind him and making a secretary taking notes on the couch jump up and gasp. Mary and Julie merely raise their heads from their desks with unblinking eyes.
“Tell me what you’re going to do,” Pi says through clenched teeth. “Tell me!”
Any promise to remain rational and level-headed had flown out the window since his first step inside the building. There’s no point telling them the truth - that’s the least important part of this whole situation.
Unexpectedly, Mary throws her head back and laughs. It’s a cold and heartless sound like splintered glass, and stops just as abruptly as it started.
“And what exactly do you want to hear, Yamashita?” Mary snarls, eyes hard and unaffected.
“Please,” Shige says, before Pi can respond. “We just want to know what’s going to happen now.”
Julie turns sharp eyes on him, thin lips pursed together in disgust.
“If you had been a better manager this wouldn’t have happened in the first place, Kato,” her papery voice like dead leaves. “We thought you could handle such a high profile idol, but obviously this was way beyond your meagre capabilities.”
Shige can only stutter to a stop.
“You aren’t answering the question,” Pi says darkly, eyes narrowed.
“What would like us to say?” Mary barks. “That this, like every other time you have failed us, can just be swept under the carpet? That we will simply issue a statement to the press discrediting their claim?”
Mary raises herself steadily from her chair, hands gripping the side of the table, her sheer white blouse accentuating her protruding collar bones and the lines of her ribs.
“There’s no spin doctor in the world that would be able to clean up the mess you’ve made, Yamashita,” Mary says coldly, spindly fingers clutching together in a fist and slamming down on the desk in front of them.
Pi can hardly hear for all the roaring in his head. The walls around him appear to be creeping in closer and closer, no longer white but as black as the pupils of Mary and Julie’s eyes.
“Answer me!” he yells belligerently.
Mary simply looks at him, before seating herself down once more next to Julie.
“Get out of my sight,” she spits out. “We’ll talk to you when we’re ready to talk.”
At the slight beckoning movement of her hand, the security guards that Pi realises have been waiting patiently outside of the office come in and grasp both Pi and Shige by the arms.
With the fight slowly leaving him, he lets them drag him out of the building.
*
Ryo can’t concentrate, can barely focus on the screen in front of him; in part because he’s too agitated by the unexpected news this morning, and partly because he’s made another terrible discovery during Life 101.
They had spent so much time working up to something so big and so important, that Ryo had almost fooled himself into believing that he could now relax for a while. The truth was things never braked; there was always something else, something just as immense waiting. The world just kept on turning. The sudden image of what the rest of his working career will be like - one project after another after another after another - is like a sock in the gut. But it’s one that Ryo realises he is willing to receive.
Does this mean I’m all grown up? Ryo wonders vaguely, before he notices Nakai approaching with that familiar grin and an all too sinister glint in his eye.
Ryo turns back to his computer screen and pretends to work.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Everyone, you are now halfway through the fic! Congratulations on making it this far ;D
Chapters 16-17
Pairing: Ryopi
Genre: AU / Drama / Friendship / Romance
Rating: PG-13 (swearing)
Summary: Pi is a Johnny's idol and Ryo is a salaryman living in the same apartment building. Despite coming from different worlds, they form a friendship that ends up being a pillar of support through the various trials they encounter, slowly developing into something much, much more.
Word count: 5118
Disclaimer: Miney miney mine.
A/N: Three chapters today as thanks for beautiful comments ♥
Chapter Thirteen - Holiday, Celebrate
They’ve been driving for almost an hour now. Pi’s hardly noticed the changes in scenery or the way the sun has risen higher overhead. Pi’s got his eyes trained on other things.
He watches Ryo shift gears as they turn onto the highway; the way his shirt creases at the shoulder, the relaxed confidence as he merges lanes and checks his rear-view mirror, and the tapping of his index finger on the wheel in time to the music on the radio. Every now and then he glances at the directions and seems to nod to himself, and Pi watches and tries not to blink.
Pi doesn’t know why, but it’s hypnotising. He’s probably been looking at him for half an hour or more but he’s not sure - time is something he no longer seems to have a handle on. He wonders how Ryo can always seem to emanate an aura of overly confident self-assurance - there is not one ounce of detectable hesitation. He acts like his first time is his hundredth. Even if Ryo tells him otherwise, his actions seem impenetrable.
“You’re staring at me,” Ryo states after a while, only briefly flicking his eyes off the road to glance at Pi.
“Yeah,” Pi says, swallowing.
Ryo looks over his shoulder before switching into the exit lane, and Pi watches the cords in his neck tense and disappear.
“Why?” Ryo asks, eyes once again focussed on the road ahead. His tone isn’t accusatory; just inquisitive.
“I don’t know,” Pi answers honestly, squirming back against the soft leather seat. His fingers seem to be trying to perform tricks, folding and unfolding themselves in mysterious and unprovoked ways like a ghost working origami. Still, his eyes never leave Ryo for a moment.
“I don’t think I can stop,” Pi says, and his truthfulness is beginning to disconcert him. Like the rest of his body, his mouth appears to have taken on a life of its own. Ever so slowly, Pi is beginning to realise that it’s always been this way - he’s never wanted to hide things from Ryo, never been able to really.
“Is it bothering you?” he asks, sucking in his cheeks.
Ryo doesn’t reply immediately, as if he’s truly considering the question, and Pi’s heart begins to make the short descent down towards his gut.
Ryo just takes another look at the directions on the GPS before signalling right and sliding to a stop at a set of traffic lights.
He turns to Pi and holds his gaze, eyes shadowed and opaque.
“No,” he says shortly, and gives a little shrug. “Although I can’t say I see the interest, it doesn’t bother me. Should I be bothered?” Ryo tilts his head in question.
Pi breathes in deeply and some part of him regurgitates the words he’s been dying to ask for the past couple of weeks - the words that he’s unsuccessfully buried under layers of insecurity.
“It really doesn’t bother you, does it?”
“What?” Ryo asks, and Pi can see he is genuinely confused, in an I’m-about-to-get-frustrated-really-soon kind of way.
“About me being the way I am,” Pi says, raising an eyebrow for emphasis. His heart bangs around in his ribs like a bird in a cage.
A light dawns on Ryo’s face, and he visibly relaxes, muscles smoothing out.
“Why the fuck would it bother me?” Ryo responds, and he turns back to the road, shifting into first then second gear as the lights turn green. “What kind of person do you take me for?”
The best kind, Pi wants to say, but he’s managed to reclaim some kind of control of his mouth. He clasps his hands to still his itching fingers, and says the only other thing he can think of.
“Thanks.”
Ryo rolls his eyes and reaches out to whack Pi over the head, but there’s a smirk on his lips.
“Dumbarse.”
Pi grins, and he adjusts himself in his seat so he doesn’t have to stare at Ryo from such an awkward angle anymore.
*
Ryo ends up driving all the way there. Finally pulling up to their hotel, he tries to ignore the feeling of discomfort when he steps out of the car, sighing with discontent. Seeing Ryo’s face, Pi gives him a questioning look.
“I just wanted it to last a bit longer,” Ryo says, before grabbing their luggage and making their way to reception.
MLIT had booked out the majority of hotels in the region, and Ryo had been placed in a small hotel in the centre of the city with modern Western-style rooms.
“It’s nice,” Pi comments, looking around at the dark wooden beams and golden-hued lights while Ryo checks them in. There are wide windows facing the outside gardens and everything is open and bright. Inside, Pi feels like he can breathe in air more refreshing than when they first stepped out of the car.
Ryo gives him a funny look. “I think you’ve been to bigger and better hotels than this,” he says sceptically.
Pi’s about the respond but the bellboy has taken up their bags and is making his way around to the ground floor twin suite, opening the door for them and indicating where their slippers are.
Pi raises an eyebrow when Ryo slips the kid a twenty, but Ryo just shrugs and kicks off his shoes, making his way into the room.
There’s a wide white arc-shaped couch, clean white pressed-down sheets and golden curtains. Soft tan carpet spreads out over the floor reaching white walls and dark wooden panels, while the roof is covered in recessed lights that fill the room with a warm muted glow.
Pi collapses on the bed and sighs blissfully when it merely cushions and moulds into his body shape.
“Seriously?” Ryo asks, collapsing back on his own bed. Then, “Wow. Let’s stay like this forever, okay?” with a voice that whispers to wood.
“Yeah, okay,” Pi responds, and there’s a smile on his lips as he contemplates the possibility.
*
They spend the rest of the day exploring the city. They walk the line from Sendai station to the Asaichi market. They pick up food from stalls and vendors, taking it slow, enjoying being lost in the crowd that knows that these are the essentials for living.
Pi’s chatting randomly to the guy frying them up some yakiniku skewers and Ryo takes a step back to soak in the scene. Pi’s got a laugh that’s halfway between a deep chuckle and a hiccup, and it’s kind of nice, this. Just walking and shallow talking. Pi turns around excitedly with the skewers once they’re done, squeezing his eyes shut with exaggerated euphoria, and bumps into the man waiting behind him and getting chicken oil smeared down the poor man’s shirt. He swears before apologising profusely, hurriedly shoving a fistful of notes into the stunned man’s hands, telling him to buy a new shirt, and Ryo laughs and laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling and a hand coming up to clutch at Pi’s arm. His friend can only look sheepish, while gratefully accepting another round from the bemused vendor.
On the other side of the station they make their way through vintage stores, trailing fingers through clothes, trying to find the most disastrous in design. Ryo would never buy this stuff, can’t stand the idea that other people he doesn’t know have been doing things in his clothes, but Pi buys a belt here and a pair of vintage jeans there, and for once Ryo’s not dying to get out of a shop or becoming bored with playing the waiting game. He fiddles with bag straps and fumbling fingers knock jackets off of hangers, and then Pi comes out of the dressing room going “You don’t think it’s too big, right?” and all Ryo can do is go along with it. He doesn’t even have to try. It’s like they’re moving in their own time, the wheel smoothly slipping into place one well-placed notch at a time. And he likes the way it feels.
*
They end up in a tiny hole in the wall, a drinking spot that Pi stumbled into when Ryo pushed him out of the way of a rogue bicycling grandpa. After a couple drinks Pi’s eyes are dark ebony and his bangs are falling over his eyes in a way that makes Ryo stare; makes him want to count strands and ponder architectural structures and gravitational physics and the charging of particles.
“Big day tomorrow,” says Pi casually, picking at an edamame bean.
Ryo cringes. “Don’t remind me.”
“You’ll be fine,” Pi states with what Ryo thinks of as completely unfounded confidence. “You’ve been working on this for ages; you should just relax and enjoy yourself.”
Ryo traces patterns on the outside of his glass, made-up wishes in cold condensation.
“You’re telling me,” Ryo says slowly, “that you never get nervous before a concert? Before a television show?”
Pi frowns slightly. “That’s different. That’s like tens of thousands of people watching my every move. You just have to walk out and do it.”
“And this,” Ryo emphasises, “is tens of thousands of people, who are naturally critical of the government by the way, who will soon be testing a multimillion dollar venture. This is hundreds of people who are soon going to try their hardest to find a flaw in our plan.”
“I see your point,” Pi concedes. “But it’s going to be fine. Have a little faith in yourself.”
In a sudden move, Pi’s grasping Ryo’s hand across the table.
“You’ll be fine,” he says with feeling.
Ryo swallows, and tells himself that it’s the alcohol that’s making the room spin faintly. Usually it’s him trying to make everything okay, and it takes an effort not to smack away the comfort with disregard.
“You’ll be fine,” Pi repeats, drawing back his hand and turning back to his drink, and all Ryo can think of is how everything about this moment right now is anything but fine.
Chapter Fourteen - Growing
Ryo stumbles his way through a day of bad pronunciation and nervous smiles, in no way helped by frequent texts from Pi, who has been set on seeing the rest of the sights in Sendai, something concerts and drama schedules have never previously allowed.
Ryo didn’t mind his work when he was able to sit in the back and just watch all the hard effort unfold in front of him. He hated his work when he was forced up on a stage during lunch break to make a small thank you speech to heartfelt applause. A part of him couldn’t deny loving the feeling of appreciation, although another part of him said he didn’t need it - he already knew how great he was. Another entirely different part of him was just plain embarrassed and only wanted to head off and go sight-seeing with Pi. And then there was the part that couldn’t seem to forget the flutters of electricity that sparked down his hand where Pi had held it, making him oblivious to the talk going on around him.
Yet, crashing on the hotel room bed after a long day of presentations and discussions and not nearly enough drinking, and hearing Pi call out from the shower a casual “Thanks for your hard work”…
Fuck, Ryo thinks. I might actually like my job.
*
Everything was over before Ryo had even gotten halfway used to it beginning. Before he knows it, the caterers are clearing plates for the last time, banners are being taken down and placed in boxes, and Ryo and Hikaru are escorting the French delegates back to the airport with a “Merci beaucoup” and an “Au revoir” that Ryo hopes isn’t too enthusiastic.
“Thank fuck it’s over!” Hikaru screams into the parking lot as they made their way to the car in a half-exhausted, half-exhilarated state of bliss.
Ryo couldn’t agree more.
“Thank God,” Ryo says, and it comes from deep within his chest. Not only that they had somehow, against all the odds, pulled it off, but also that Sakamoto would be pulling back on the coffee - he had developed a slight twitch just above his left eye over the past two weeks.
“So what are you going to do now?” Hikaru asks, slumping down into the passenger’s seat once they have reached the car. “I saw you asked for a few days off.”
“Well, I actually drove here with a friend,” Ryo replies, easing out of the parking lot. “We’ll stick around for a few days before heading back.”
Him and Pi had barely exchanged two sentences of decent conversation since the conference had begun three days ago, and Ryo’s agitated at how nerve-wracking the prospect of a few days alone is, when a week ago he wouldn’t have given it a second thought.
“A ‘friend’ huh?” Hikaru questions, eyebrows rising and a smirk on his lips.
Ryo narrows his eyes at Hikaru. “You have really pointy teeth, did you know that?”
Hikaru just laughs. “I never would have guessed that you had a girlfriend. You’re so tense all the time! Drives you up the wall does she? Takes up all your time but doesn’t put out?”
“Well, I’m definitely not getting any,” Ryo grimaces, not bothering to even argue with Hikaru’s assumption. Partly because of his sudden realisation of how Hikaru views him, and partly because he’s just beginning to become aware of it - the power that Pi has over him. Lightning quick and unforgiving in its assertion. It’s a crippling thought.
If Ryo is but a mere spoke in the turning wheel, then Pi is the axis, making the whole world spin.
*
They sleep in late the next day and then drive around randomly, before heading towards Michinoku Park. There aren’t many people around. Even though at 15 degrees it’s unusually warm for this time of year, the season means the flowers are no longer in bloom, and the wind too chilly to enjoy the spray of water from the fountains. Ryo and Pi stuff their hands in the pockets of their jackets and walk in circles around the garden, following invisible trails and enjoying the isolation.
Pi stops at a fountain that flows into a larger pool, leaning in close to the clear water, and Ryo gives him a tiny push on his back. He turns around and pushes Ryo back and at Pi’s grin and questioning look Ryo feels his insides beginning to plummet. He really, truly doesn’t understand what’s come over him, but it reminds him of high school and standing in front of the class, and when he was 16 and love appeared to be nothing more than a source of awkward and emotional embarrassment. He doesn’t want to feel like this again, he doesn’t, he doesn’t. Unfortunately, his brain doesn’t seem to register his plea.
“Hey, you looked like you wanted to go for a swim,” Ryo says, shrugging his shoulders and flashing what he hopes is a relaxed smile.
“Sometimes I think you forget that I’m bigger than you, Ryo,” Pi laughs.
“Well, I’m older,” Ryo retaliates.
Pi laughs harder. “Huh? What has that got to do with anything??”
“Whatever,” Ryo says, turning away. “Let’s go this way.”
They finish making their way around the park and Pi insists on going to the gift shop to pick up souvenirs for his mum and sister. Like the park, there’s hardly anyone there, only a few tourists with digital SLRs picking up batteries. Ryo plays with some glass ornaments before reluctantly giving in and reaching for his wallet. Why not, he’s on holiday, so why not.
One of the shop assistants appears to recognise Pi when she sees him looking through the glass cabinets. Ryo watches from the corner of his eye as her hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. As she casually adjusts her dress. As she tries to make small talk after asking him if he needs any help.
She fumbles to get something down from the display for him, clumsily slipping and falling. Pi reaches out automatically, catching her with both arms, and she momentarily ducks her head into his chest with embarrassment.
Ryo realises he’s holding his breath.
Pi smiles politely and excuses himself, disentangling their limbs.
Ryo smirks. He kind of hates himself for it.
*
Ryo’s been acting a little strange all afternoon and Pi can’t quite figure out why. He thinks it might possibly be mental exhaustion from the past few days. Although, that wouldn’t explain the way Ryo keeps turning away suddenly whenever Pi speaks to him, when Pi can feel him staring when he’s not looking. He shrugs internally, and tries not to think it has anything to do with him.
*
They’re lucky that they’re in the last final threads of Autumn. The zelkova trees, reaching up to the sky like grasping hands and unfolding fans, decorate the city in a dying vestige of red and gold.
“Not dying,” Pi tells Ryo. “Just resting.”
Its mid-week now. Adults are working in warmed buildings and children are scraping pencils along the desks of their regimented classrooms. There are hardly any other people walking along the paths towards the banks of the Hirose River, only a few holiday-makers and vendors that offer ingredients to make the customary pork and potato miso soup that characterises both the city and the season.
They walk under the cover of the trees, heading deeper into the cool cathedral of the forest, leaving behind the dark waters of the wide river that flows strong and deep. It’s quiet, oh so quiet. Flickers of golden light dance across their features, casting moving shadows on the grass below. Pi can’t help upturning his face towards the sun, chasing the warmth and light, eyes closed and features relaxed. He almost trips over a branch in their path, but a steady hand tugs at the back of his shirt and pulls him, turns him, faces him towards a small clearing.
They look at each other and stop. It’s time to stop, Pi says in silent communication, seating himself on the grass, long legs extended in front of him.
He leans back, lies down on the grass and stretches his hands up towards the sky, as if embracing the world above. The wind works its way through his bangs, and he feels it, knows it, even though it’s been such a long time.
This is peace.
He closes his eyes against the full glare of the sun, no longer filtered light, and feels Ryo lie down next to him, shifting against the grass, making it crinkle and break.
“Let’s stay here forever,” he whispers, echoing the words that Ryo said only a few days before. The wind picks up, blowing his words across the hills.
“Yeah, okay,” and he can hear Ryo’s smirk in the reply. “Let’s hide out here until the grass grows over us. Who gives a fuck anyway?”
Pi lets his arms fall against his sides in alignment with Ryo’s, the raised hairs on their arms brushing against each other and tickling.
“No one that matters,” he says softly.
Right here and now, Pi feels he’s discovering a completely different part of himself that doesn’t belong to Johnny or Mary or the rest of the whole entire world.
*
They drive home that night in silence. Ryo truly is exhausted so he lets Pi drive, settling himself in the passenger seat, pushing it right down against the back seat. He gives Pi a gratuitous amount of instructions, practically down to the number of traffic lights, and Pi’s nice enough not to mention that he has perfect visual memory - he is a dancer after all. He does roll his eyes a little though - Ryo can be such a mother sometimes.
Pi turns the radio to an easy-listening station, lowering the volume just so, careful not to wake Ryo. He’s already fast asleep, curled up on his side with one hand resting under his head, ashen black eyelashes fluttering slightly in REM sleep. He’s already taking part in invisible adventures, running harder than he’s ever done in reality.
Pi stops the car at a traffic light (possibly Ryo mentioned this one?), and reaches behind him for his jacket, laying it gently around the sleeping boy.
He looks at Ryo’s sleeping face, so serene in the moonlight. The curve of his lower lip, so often caught in a mocking smile, now is anything but - is nothing but hopelessly vulnerable. Pi reaches out and traces the air around his face, every rise and fall, not quite brave enough to touch. The strong lines of his jaw, the bridge of his nose, the curve of his cheekbones. He feels Ryo’s breath warm against his fingers, spreading through his hands and reaching towards his chest, and for a moment (a heart-racing breath-catching moment), Pi almost gives in. But he resists; this is one spell he doesn’t want to break.
The traffic lights flash from red to green and Pi reluctantly faces the road once more.
Chapter Fifteen - Not Welcome Anymore
The next morning, Pi receives a phone call. It rouses him from his position draped across the middle of his bed - the same position he had fallen into once they had made it back to the apartment. He groans and rubs his eyes before grasping for his mobile on the bedside table.
“Hello?” he answers blearily, his voice rough from disuse.
“Yamashita? It’s Shige,” is the nervous response, that wakes Pi up faster than a cup of coffee ever could.
“Yes?” Pi says immediately, sitting up straight.
“Uh…” and it’s all too obvious that the hesitation isn’t the kind that preludes good news.
Pi’s fingers clutch his phone tighter. “For God’s sake Shige, what is it?”
There’s a shaky breath on the other side of the line, then, “I take it you haven’t seen the news yet, have you?”
“What’s on the news?” Pi asks through gritted teeth, already walking into the living room and switching on the television.
He doesn’t need to hear Shige’s reply.
“Oh fuck.”
‘Yamashita Tomohisa was spotted on holiday in Sendai with a mystery woman on Monday afternoon. The woman is rumoured to be his long time lover, and the close couple were captured in a romantic embrace by fellow tourists. The woman refused to talk with the photographer about their relationship, only stating that “Yamapi is a very kind person”.’
It’s the woman from the gift shop, and whoever had taken the picture had managed to time it exactly when he had caught her from falling. Both of his arms are clutching her and he’s leaning into her, and her face seems as if it’s buried in his chest. It does look romantic, and Pi’s stomach suddenly feels tight and empty.
“Oh fuck.”
The news reporter continues to speculate on the nature and length of the relationship, their eagerness to demonstrate their love for one another, even going so far as to wish them the best of luck for the future. Like luck was something Pi had on his side lately.
“What have management said?” Pi finally asks, remembering the phone in his hand and switching off the television. He doesn’t want to listen anymore.
He can almost hear Shige mopping the sweat from his forehead.
“They…they haven’t said anything.”
“What do you mean?” and Pi has a terrible, terrible feeling.
“They…” Shige says, swallowing, “they won’t return my calls.”
There’s a knock at the door and Pi goes over to answer it automatically. He opens it to reveal Ryo standing with his arms crossed awkwardly over his chest.
“Hey, I tried to call you, but I couldn’t get through…” Ryo begins, until he notices Pi’s face - he looks like he’s been stabbed in the gut.
He takes the mobile out of Pi’s hand and says a quick “He’ll call you back,” before guiding Pi over towards the couch.
“I take it you saw the news,” Ryo says quietly, once they are both sitting.
“Yeah,” Pi mumbles. He can’t meet Ryo’s eyes - thinks he’ll only find pity there.
“I can’t believe that bitch,” Ryo scowls, and Pi would be surprised at the extent of his anger but he’s having trouble feeling anything at all. “I can’t believe a fan would sell out their idol.”
Pi shakes his head softly. “I don’t think it was her. She didn’t say anything.”
“But it’s all a lie,” Ryo hisses. “All those lies from one little picture! Don’t they have any shame?”
“I know, Ryo,” Pi says, voice hoarse, pressing his fists into his eyes. “I know, okay?”
Ryo sighs and collapses back on the couch. “What did management say?” Pi can tell that he’s trying to control the emotion in his words.
“They haven’t said anything,” Pi says, hands still covering his eyes. “Ryo…I’m scared. They kind of made it clear that I wasn’t going to get any more chances.”
“Chances? What’s that supposed to mean?” And Ryo wants to grab Pi’s arms and push them down so he can see his face properly.
“I don’t know,” Pi whispers. “I don’t know.”
Ryo scowls again, and Pi’s not sure if it’s meant for the reporters or his agency.
“Look, I have to go to work now,” Ryo says after a pause. “But tell me if anything happens, okay?”
Pi nods, still not looking up.
The couch cushions shift as Ryo gets up, his footsteps muffled on the carpet as he makes his way to the door and lets himself out.
As soon as he hears the door slide shut, Pi allows himself one single terrified and gasped sob before drawing everything inside and composing himself once more. Removing his hands from his swollen red eyes, he decides to get dressed and go and see Mary and Julie in person. More than his fear of reprimand, he’s really scared of the silence - the not knowing. Picking up his mobile he speed-dials Shige.
Shige answers the phone after two rings.
“Meet me outside the agency in an hour,” Pi says, knowing he sounds void of emotion. He hangs up before Shige can reply.
*
He receives about twenty phone calls before he reaches the agency and doesn’t answer a single one. The only reason he doesn’t turn off his phone is in case it’s management calling with news.
When he and Shige reach the building they don’t want to see him. Security tries to block them going into the elevator and even the sweaty accountant makes an appearance, trying to reason and cajole. Pi just takes the stairs, with Shige scampering behind him, clutching his briefcase to his chest. On the president’s floor tiny juniors scuttle to the sides of the hall, moving out of the way as fast as their little legs can carry them and plastering themselves to the walls. As if Pi’s bad fortune might be contagious. He can hardly blame them.
Pi opens the office door with a bang, startling Shige behind him and making a secretary taking notes on the couch jump up and gasp. Mary and Julie merely raise their heads from their desks with unblinking eyes.
“Tell me what you’re going to do,” Pi says through clenched teeth. “Tell me!”
Any promise to remain rational and level-headed had flown out the window since his first step inside the building. There’s no point telling them the truth - that’s the least important part of this whole situation.
Unexpectedly, Mary throws her head back and laughs. It’s a cold and heartless sound like splintered glass, and stops just as abruptly as it started.
“And what exactly do you want to hear, Yamashita?” Mary snarls, eyes hard and unaffected.
“Please,” Shige says, before Pi can respond. “We just want to know what’s going to happen now.”
Julie turns sharp eyes on him, thin lips pursed together in disgust.
“If you had been a better manager this wouldn’t have happened in the first place, Kato,” her papery voice like dead leaves. “We thought you could handle such a high profile idol, but obviously this was way beyond your meagre capabilities.”
Shige can only stutter to a stop.
“You aren’t answering the question,” Pi says darkly, eyes narrowed.
“What would like us to say?” Mary barks. “That this, like every other time you have failed us, can just be swept under the carpet? That we will simply issue a statement to the press discrediting their claim?”
Mary raises herself steadily from her chair, hands gripping the side of the table, her sheer white blouse accentuating her protruding collar bones and the lines of her ribs.
“There’s no spin doctor in the world that would be able to clean up the mess you’ve made, Yamashita,” Mary says coldly, spindly fingers clutching together in a fist and slamming down on the desk in front of them.
Pi can hardly hear for all the roaring in his head. The walls around him appear to be creeping in closer and closer, no longer white but as black as the pupils of Mary and Julie’s eyes.
“Answer me!” he yells belligerently.
Mary simply looks at him, before seating herself down once more next to Julie.
“Get out of my sight,” she spits out. “We’ll talk to you when we’re ready to talk.”
At the slight beckoning movement of her hand, the security guards that Pi realises have been waiting patiently outside of the office come in and grasp both Pi and Shige by the arms.
With the fight slowly leaving him, he lets them drag him out of the building.
*
Ryo can’t concentrate, can barely focus on the screen in front of him; in part because he’s too agitated by the unexpected news this morning, and partly because he’s made another terrible discovery during Life 101.
They had spent so much time working up to something so big and so important, that Ryo had almost fooled himself into believing that he could now relax for a while. The truth was things never braked; there was always something else, something just as immense waiting. The world just kept on turning. The sudden image of what the rest of his working career will be like - one project after another after another after another - is like a sock in the gut. But it’s one that Ryo realises he is willing to receive.
Does this mean I’m all grown up? Ryo wonders vaguely, before he notices Nakai approaching with that familiar grin and an all too sinister glint in his eye.
Ryo turns back to his computer screen and pretends to work.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Everyone, you are now halfway through the fic! Congratulations on making it this far ;D
Chapters 16-17