I want to be your secret (20-22/26)
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: 5764
A/N: Only two more posts to go~
Chapter Twenty - News Breaks
It’s a slow road to recovery. Some days the feelings of hurt and desolation feel like a distant memory, and the only thing that’s tangible is the smirk that’s constantly plastered on Ryo’s face. But sometimes, he still wakes to find a room embroidered in flame, the smoke choking his lungs, and other times he can still feel the rain pressing in, forcing itself into his mouth and rushing down his throat like a river.
Pi tells Ryo to go back to work, but apparently Ryo hasn’t taken a proper break since last winter and Nakai is glad to see him gone for a while, just so he won’t have to fork out a huge lump sum for unpaid leave later on and possibly get yelled at by superiors. Well, not yelled at as such, Ryo has explained, but possibly receive a nasty little email. Or a memo. How satisfactory, the way of corporate communication.
Pi’s fever settles, but he develops a persistent cold that leaves him struggling to get out of bed and the doctor making further house calls. Pi doesn’t want to go out yet, doesn’t want to create more news. He knows he’s currently sitting in the eye of the storm - that short reprieve, that unexpected lull - and that soon he’s going to have to face the rhetorical music. But he wants to do it on his own terms. This whole thing seems to have played out so far outside of his grasp that now all he wants to do is take a moment to draw everything back towards him and find a way to assert his own actions.
And then there’s a news leak within the company.
*
Ryo’s making a visit to MLIT to clear up some confusion with the new railpass policy meeting, when Pi’s phone starts to ring. The first person to call is his mum, worried and upset and wishing her baby was nearby to feed and to comfort. Pi puts on his most mature voice and thinks it’s ironic that in the end it’s him comforting her. He tells her everything is going to be fine, all the while telling himself that it’s not that big of a lie.
The second person to call is, surprisingly, Kame, who trips over his words and managers to stammer out awkwardly, but genuinely, that he hopes that Pi’s okay. Pi figures that Jin is too nervous to call himself, and takes pity on him, letting him off the hook after two minutes of pause-laden conversation by saying he’s about to head out. Pi finally decides that having a stick shoved up your arse might not be a wholly bad thing - at least you’d have a decent posture.
The third person to call is Yu, and that’s what almost breaks Pi’s composure. Even though he’s been through all this, it still hurts.
“Pi, damn, are you okay?” Yu asks, and each word hits like a sledgehammer to the walls he’s building up to encase his wound.
Pi’s throat won’t open up enough for him to respond, and after a few seconds Yu goes, “How did this happen? I mean, really, it doesn’t make sense. It’s completely ridiculous.”
Pi can only shake his head silently.
“Pi? Pi, I’m serious, this isn’t right. Have you talked to your manager - what was his name - Shinichi?”
“Shigeaki,” Pi says hoarsely; automatically.
“You need to talk to him,” and his tone is business-like. “Find out what the hell is going in head office. These things can be renegotiated - you’re an important commodity, no matter what anyone says.”
Pi cringes at the choice of words, and it gives him the courage to say what he hadn’t been able to tell either his mother or Kame.
“I’m not going back, Yu. Even if they begged me, I wouldn’t.”
It’s Yu’s turn to pause, and Pi can picture him freezing on the other end of the line mid-pace, the wheels turning in his head as he absorbs the new information.
“Are you sure?” he asks finally.
“Y-yes,” Pi answers, cursing himself for the slightest hesitation. “I’m not going back.”
“If you say no, you can’t change your mind, Pi,” Yu goes on relentlessly. “There would be no going back, ever.”
Pi knows he’s trying to make sure that his sometimes spaced-out friend is covering all his options, but it doesn’t stop the words creating new cracks in his walls.
Pi stays silent, and Yu sighs.
“Just think about it, okay? Don’t rush into anything. There’s something not right about this whole thing, and it’s a huge decision. It’s not something you can make just like that.”
Pi wants to say that he understands that better than anyone else - he’s the one who’s been living this whole damn thing.
“Yeah, okay,” is what he says instead.
*
Ryo comes back late that night, when Pi’s already in bed watching a movie on Ryo’s Apple MacBook - one of the few joys that comes with being sick as a dog. Ryo walks in like a zombie, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, and collapses on top of the bed sheets next to him.
“Fucking incompetents, all of them,” he mumbles face-down into the mattress.
Pi moves the notebook to the bedside table and shuffles down to his spot - the indentation he’s been working on - and clasps his hands behind his head.
“The news of my hiatus is out,” he says without preamble.
Ryo doesn’t move for a moment, before languidly rolling over onto his back, assuming a similar pose.
“I heard some girls talking about it in the staff lounge,” Ryo says. “I didn’t want to call in case you didn’t know yet. I should have known someone would beat me to it.”
Pi raises an eyebrow at Ryo. “You don’t have to baby me, you know. I’m a grown boy and everything. I even shave.”
Ryo frowns and looks pointedly at the ceiling. “That’s not what I meant.”
Pi shifts his position so he’s now on his side facing Ryo, his hand supporting his head.
“It’s beside the point, but yeah, it was,” he says with a lopsided grin.
Still frowning, Ryo matches Pi, moving to his side. “If it’s beside the point, then shouldn’t you just be letting it go?”
Pi can feel the heat emanating from Ryo, can see each of the veins branching out and turning his tired eyes red. He knows there’s something odd about this scene. Something’s happened along the way, and although he can’t quite pinpoint the exact time or place and neither of them have talked about it, it’s there and it’s real. It makes him just the tiniest bit dizzy.
“Okay, I’m letting it go,” Pi submits. “Because that’s the kind of big, mature, grown-up I am,” and Ryo can’t stop the quirk at the corners of his mouth.
“So who told you?” Ryo asks, wisely choosing to drop the subject.
“My mum,” Pi sighs in response, picking at the fuzz balls on the linen sheets. “She was really worried. Kame and Yu called as well,” he adds.
“That was nice of them,” Ryo says mildly.
“I told Yu that I wouldn’t be going back to Johnny’s,” Pi continues. “He said if I told them there would be no going back ever. I don’t know, it’s just that when he said it, it kind of hit home…everything I would be leaving behind…just how long forever is.”
Pi lets out a long breath. “What am I doing, Ryo?”
There’s no uncertainty as Ryo reaches out to cradle Pi’s jaw in his hand, thumb stroking slowly over cheek. His hand moves to Pi’s shirt, taking a hold and tugging him forward lightly, and Pi willingly moves into a warm embrace.
“Your friend’s right you know,” Ryo says softly, breath lightly ruffling Pi’s hair. “There is no going back. Of course it’s going to be difficult, but you’ve made this decision already. You have to trust yourself, you know?”
Pi breathes in the smell of his shirt, all cleanness and Ryo, and burrows deeper into his neck, and wonders at how everything is instantly clearer. He thinks wars might end if only soldiers could smell what he can smell. They’d pack up and go home just like that.
He can see that line that he’s drawn in the sand, separating the past from the future. It identifies itself, and he identifies with it, and it tells him that he doesn’t have to think about it anymore - he’s thought enough for a lifetime.
“I know,” he says, and his voice is muffled. “I know.”
*
Pi’s phone just won’t stop ringing - even after the news programs have stopped reporting about him, and even after Pi’s too exhausted to answer it. Ryo turns it off for a while until Pi says “What if my mum calls again? She’ll get worried if I don’t answer,” and Ryo grudgingly turns it back on.
One afternoon after five calls in a row from the same unlisted number Ryo snatches the phone up and answers with a curt “What?”
There’s a confused noise on the other end before a voice says slowly “Yamashita-san?”
“This is Yamashita’s phone,” Ryo replies shortly. “He’s not well enough to answer the phone himself at the moment-”
“And who is this?” the voice cuts him off.
“This is Yamashita’s doctor” - acidly.
“Shingo?”
“That’s Dr. Shingo to you.”
The person on the other line doesn’t seem to be catching the tone and only goes on belligerently “Shingo, tell Yamashita that his manager needs to speak to him urgently. I don’t care how sick he is, this is important, he really needs to call me back.”
“Oh you don’t care, do you?” Ryo says in a low voice. “You just don’t care?! Pi is sick in bed, but that doesn’t matter because you have more important things to care about. Did you ever think that maybe that’s why he’s sick in the first place?”
“Who is this??” Shige says, now incredibly suspicious, but Ryo’s already snapped the phone shut.
There’s a rustle of sheets and Ryo sees Pi sit up groggily in bed.
“Ryo?” he says. “I had this weird dream that Shige called and needed to speak to me or the world was going to end.”
Ryo comes over and sits on the side of the bed next to Pi.
“What a stupid dream. Can’t you dream of more exciting things? Like me and Lindsay Lohan in those Marilyn Monroe pictures, for instance.”
“Why would I be dreaming of you and Lindsay Lohan?”
“I think we both know how hot that would be.”
He leans over and presses a kiss on Pi’s forehead before he can retaliate, smoothing down his hair.
“Now go back to sleep,” he adds, getting up and crossing the room. “You can tell me all about some more interesting dreams when you wake up.”
That night Pi dreams of Ryo and Lindsay Lohan. It is kind of hot.
Chapter Twenty-One - Putting Ghosts to Rest
Like before, when the scandal broke, Pi gets sick of being locked up inside constantly. He’s feeling almost 100% better, except for a runny nose that reworks his pronunciation and adds an exceptional nasal flair. Ryo, unfortunately for Pi, has the strictest, most unrelenting bedside manner, and all attempts to convince him to let his hostage out for some fresh air are shot down like ducks in winter. Pi hatches a plan to wear Ryo out with constant television viewing (Ryo always got drowsy after a few episodes of Gossip Girl), and then sneak out quietly, with some optional maniacal laughter once he was out of ear shot. He’s about to implement his plan when Ryo suddenly gets a call, from a panicked-sounding Hikaru.
“Ryo, man, you have to help me,” he whispers desperately, as soon as Ryo picks up the phone, just as Pi’s about to turn on the television.
“What the fuck? Hikaru?” Ryo answers confusedly, double-checking the user ID.
Hikaru almost whimpers through the phone. “Ryo I did something really stupid, and now I’m in deep shit man, and Nakai has been watching me like a vulture. Like, seriously deep shit.”
“Hikaru, first, slow down,” Ryo says, trying not to sound too annoyed. “Secondly, I repeat - what the fuck?”
He can hear Hikaru taking some slow, deep breaths as he attempts to attain some simulation of calm.
“Ryo,” Hikaru says finally, “You know how you’re always telling me to take initiative?”
And this is how he’s going to blackmail me into helping him, and even Ryo’s inner voice is leaden with irony.
“Cut to the chase, Hikaru,” Ryo deadpans. He can almost hear Hikaru cringing on the other end.
“Well,” Hikaru continues, “I overheard Nakai talking to Tsuyoshi about how the Hydrogen Fuel Cell project has stalled, and I decided to do some investigating.”
“Some investigating, huh,” Ryo mutters, which Hikaru chooses to ignore.
“Turns out that some of the sponsors are thinking of pulling out of phase two of the plan. Something about how the proposed number of hydrogen fuelling stations don’t meet the requirements of the fleet of vehicles being designed. It’s an important issue because they’ve been investing a lot of money in this.”
Hikaru pauses, and Ryo doesn’t need to guess where this is heading.
“You arranged a meeting with the sponsors,” he says in a low, deadly voice.
“Kind of,” Hikaru hedges.
“Oh God, Hikaru, what did you do?” he asks, trying to suppress a moan. This wasn’t even their section, for crying out loud.
Hikaru gulps. “I arranged a meeting between the sponsors and the fuel providers.”
Ryo wants to bang his head on the coffee table.
“And why, just why exactly, would you do that?”
“I just thought,” Hikaru says, all the characteristic bravado leaking out of his voice, “that if they met, they could work things out. Like, talk about each other’s needs. But they just got mad at each other.”
“That’s because that’s what the JHFC sector are for! MLIT have nothing to do with this!” Ryo explodes.
“I thought I could push things along a little!” Hikaru whinges, beginning to panic again.
Ryo growls, and thinks all the swear words under the sun upon Hikaru, until he remembers that holding in emotions is just unhealthy.
“You’re an arrogant, self-centred, irritating little shit, did you know that?” Ryo hisses, as Pi turns to give him a questioning look.
“That’s great, but it doesn’t help me, Ryo!” Hikaru cries, apparently unperturbed by curses. “I need your help to get out of this mess!”
Ryo leans forward, places his head between his knees, and wishes he hadn’t run out of cigarettes that morning.
“Ryo?” Hikaru asks pleadingly.
He knew it would come down to this, he really did.
“Fine,” says Ryo shortly. “I’ll be there in an hour,” before hanging up.
“What was all that about?” Pi asks as Ryo hangs up the phone.
Ryo shakes his head, getting up from the couch. “You don’t want to know. But I’m going to work for a while. Call if you need me.”
“I won’t need you, but okay,” Pi hollers after him.
All he can think of is how he’s going to be running out that door as soon as Ryo’s left the building. He sends a silent prayer of thanks to poor Hikaru and hopes Ryo doesn’t beat him up too badly.
*
Pi pulls on a warm jacket and a beanie, and decides that he has a desperate appointment with a supermarket. Across town. He never did make it home with those puddings after all.
Two train rides later, Pi finds himself in a familiar suburb. He used to hang about around here in his junior days, skiving off school with his friends and loitering at the corner store. It’s one of those suburbs where the days appear to go slower and the summer heat stops the dragonflies mid-flight. The people smile at each other as they walk down the street, and after 9 o’clock the houses stand tall and silent, facing wide grassy fields where children have worn themselves out playing baseball. It’s a comfort to see that not much has changed - a little peeled paint and some rusted metal, but that was all superficial really. It was the heart of the country that counted.
Pi finds his way to his favourite convenience store - the only one that had sold his favourite brand of icy poles - and pushes aside the beads that hang from the door frame. There’s no one else inside except a shopkeeper that greets him with a sleepy “Welcome”. He takes his time looking through the aisles, picking up things here and there. He somehow wants to thank this shop for playing a role in that memorable time of his childhood, and the only way he can think of is by buying as much stuff as possible. He ends up with three bags of pudding, ice tea and lollies that he hasn’t eaten in ten years or more. The surprised shopkeeper throws in a free coffee that Pi takes outside with him. He sits himself down on the curb and cups its warmth between his hands.
As he takes his first sip, someone comes around the corner and trips over one of Pi’s shopping bags, sending the contents rolling out over the pavement. The man lets out a startled noise before apologising repeatedly, him and Pi racing around the pick up the items. As the final pudding is placed in the bag, Pi looks up to thank the stranger and makes the astonishing discovery that, in fact, it’s not a stranger at all.
Ikuta Toma blinks at Pi with large brown eyes, jaw falling open slightly.
“Yamashita?”
Pi swallows, a million thoughts racing through his head. “Toma?”
And then Toma’s clapping him on the shoulder with a huge grin on his face. “Oh my God, it’s been ages!”
Pi searches Toma’s face for bitterness or anger or spite, but there’s only earnest good humour. He really does look good, wearing faded black jeans and a teal hoodie, and Pi thinks, of course. What did you expect, loser? It’s only been 6 years. Face slowly breaking into a smile, Pi bows deeply to his old friend.
“It’s good to see you, again.” And he means it.
*
They’re sitting in the neighbourhood park on an old set of swings, snapping the ends off pocky sticks. It’s like the old days when they used to have competitions to see who could stuff the most number of Ramune candy into their mouths before choking. They recall their times as juniors, and Toma pretends to be disgusted that Pi doesn’t seem to have changed a bit - there’s still that underlying purity, the gullibility, the not quite apologetic moments where he doesn’t seem to be all there. Pi is amazed that the same can be said about Toma - he’s still the good-natured, uncomplaining and open person that he used to be. It’s like their friendship has just picked up from where Pi left it, sitting patiently by the doorway, wagging its tail and waiting for the homecoming. It’s nice - the instantaneous camaraderie.
Toma, it seems, hasn’t heard of Pi’s situation.
“So what have you been up to these days?” he asks, scuffing his feet into the packed dirt under the swing. “You had a movie coming out, right? I saw the posters over at the cinema. You might need to stop going to the gym, because that’s not quite what I would call a natural look,” he jokes.
Pi looks at the ground, and it’s the first time he says it with a smile and without his heart plummeting towards his stomach; “Actually, I’m on hiatus at the moment. I’m going to quit.”
Toma nods as if he’s not surprised. “You were always too good for them.”
Pi lets out a bark of laughter. “I’m what?? I think you need your head checked, Toma. If you knew what’s been going on the past couple of months, you’d have a completely different opinion.”
Reaching over, Toma pushes Pi’s chain so that he goes swinging to the side. “I’m being serious!” he exclaims loudly, grinning. “What, were you going to go through life letting some boy-band talent agency dictate your every move?”
Pi shakes his head, an uncontrollable smile plastered on his face. “Why, did you have something else planned for me?”
“Yamapi-burgers,” Toma says earnestly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. But there’s a twinkle in his eye. “I was going to have you open up a chain of restaurants to rival Maccas, with burgers in the shape of your head. There would have been the 100% Beefy Pi, the Cheesy Pi, and the Pi’s-No-Chicken-But-This-Burger-Is Pi. You could have blown Kame and his shamelessly sexy KFC ads out of the water. Trust me, they would’ve been sell-outs.”
“That’s so random I don’t even know how to respond,” Pi snorts. “Plus, I’m not sure how I feel about people eating my head.”
“I’m sure people have done worse things to your magazine pages,” Toma says with a wink.
Pi covers his ears in revulsion. “I can’t believe you just said that! That’s disgusting!
Suddenly Toma leaps up animatedly as a thought hits him, pointing his pocky in the air. “Oh my gosh, do you remember the time where we plastered the walls of Jun’s locker with those shirtless pictures of Takki?? The look on his face!”
Pi bursts into giggles. “That was priceless! He wouldn’t talk to us for the rest of dance practice!” Then he stops abruptly, cocking his head to the side. “I can’t remember why we did that.”
“Yeah, me either,” Toma says, furrowing his eyebrows. “I just know it was really funny.”
“Yeah,” Pi smiles, and Toma seats himself back on the swing.
“So what have you been up to?” Pi asks, finally gathering his courage.
“I’m doing stage choreography,” Toma says, and Pi can tell he’s proud of where he’s at. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t have a clue, you were never much in the theatre circuit. After I left Johnny’s a troupe that I did a play with once called me up and asked me if I wanted some work. School was more of a back-up plan, and I kind of knew that I wouldn’t be on television or in magazines anymore - the Kitagawas are such Nazis about blacklisting lost talent, and I wouldn’t have stood a chance anyway. So when they offered…well, I grabbed it. After that I began working with some guys that did stage combat and dance choreography and stuff. It was a really good opportunity. I’ve never looked back since.”
“That’s really great, Toma,” Pi says, and it’s nothing but sincere. It’s what he had hoped but had been too scared to confirm - Toma, happy, and carving out a life for himself outside of the company.
“Yeah, it is,” Toma says, grinning, before glancing quickly at his watch. “Sorry, I have to go, I’m meeting a friend for dinner. But exchange numbers with me - you have to call me again now that you don’t have any work to use as an excuse,” he teases.
“Definitely,” Pi laughs, getting his mobile out. “You can count on it.”
Chapter Twenty-Two - At the End of the Day
Ryo arrives at work and dodges a startled Nakai, before herding Hikaru and Tsuyoshi into an empty room to discuss tactics. Tsuyoshi doesn’t seem too surprised by the disclosure of events, and actually proposes some helpful ideas, which is just what Ryo expected. They decide another meeting is in order, this time with the help of the JHFC to work as a medium, and that further talks with key sponsors such as Toyota and Tokyo Gas would be needed to ensure individuals were being kept happy. When Ryo gets up to leave it’s already 8pm, letting Hikaru know that he’ll be back at work soon to sort out more details. Hikaru would have to spill the news to the department heads and cop the blame, and Ryo wouldn’t be surprised if his contract got a working over. On the one hand, Ryo’s pleased because Hikaru needs to be taken down a notch, but on the other hand, he realises that he’ll actually miss the little shit if he had to shift sectors. He resolves to talk to Nakai and try to put in a good word before any decisions are made.
He kind of wonders where the cynical bastard who didn’t give a flying fuck about what his colleagues were up to or what kind of projects needed to be worked on, has gone to. He tells himself that he’s still the same old self-absorbed guy who only looks out for his own self-interest, but even now he can feel that that’s changed. Ever since Pi, the world has just spun around on its back.
When he gets home, the lights in the living room have been turned off and Pi’s in the kitchen fixing himself a warm drink of lemon and honey. He’s got a smile on his face, eyes crinkling in the corners, and he’s dressed in a white shirt and boxers. Ryo can’t help thinking, Oh, fuck.
“How’s it going?” Ryo asks, voice gruff.
Pi looks up from his glass, still smiling. “Pretty good.”
He looks better than he has in weeks, that much is obvious. There’s a glow to his cheeks, a fire in his eyes, and he looks to Ryo like he’s finally ready to take on the world.
All of a sudden, Pi flicks the kitchen lights off, so they are standing essentially in the dark.
He steps close and says, much to the dismay of Ryo’s trying heart, “So what are we going to do tonight?”
It’s happening, it’s happening, it’s happening. The thought repeats itself in Ryo’s head, putting his mind into overload. But they’re inches apart, and he can feel Pi’s honey-lemon breath tickling his hair.
“We’re not going to think about me kissing you,” and Ryo knows he’s already broken any previous promises of self control even before the words are out of his mouth.
The lie sings bright and incandescent in the dark, and the city lights shining through the windows are casting shadows on the wall of two figures startlingly close.
“Really?” is the barely whispered reply.
Pi is staring at his lips, and even though they’re not yet touching, fingers have strayed, closing the distance, only a wing-beat of a moth away. Breath, blood and sweat alone fuse the space from skin to burning skin.
Everything this time seems more than real. And this time there is no retreating movements for the safety of the barricades. The discordant pull guiding their connection has become a resonating murmur that yearns only for unity and reconciliation.
And Pi stands there as if frozen in time, eyes never wavering. His chest rises and falls with heavy breath, and his lashes quaver slightly, like falling ash against flushed cheeks.
Ryo thinks, even fallen from grace and living through agony and heartbreak, he is still the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.
And then Ryo closes the distance and it’s all over.
*
The gears fall into place, and there, right there - another pause in the wheel’s never-ending cyclical journey.
Ryo, who is always paradoxically alternating between extreme anxiety and careless confidence;
Ryo, who thought he was hurt too badly to ever put his faith in anything or anyone else even if they could bring themselves to want him;
Ryo, who has spent all his life running towards something (running away from something) invisible, persistent, always out of reach;
Right now, is too in awe to care about composure, and too in love to care about reasons. So many years of going round in circles and here, finally, yeah, Ryo can see it - the longed-for destination. Ripping its way through the static; gathering moments rushing forth and entwining together in lyrical madness…and ending with soft lips moving against his, slowly at first and then with unexpected urgency, and hot fingers at the back of his neck, branding him; this is mine, all mine. It’s the cadence, it’s the fall, it’s everything, it’s everything. And it’s so much more than ever promised.
*
He’s wanted this so desperately, for so long, that all he can do is wonder at the miracle of its happening. Ryo’s grip on his hip is bruising, and the short ragged breaths make his lungs ache, but Pi doesn’t think there could be anything sweeter. He wants is to revel in this moment forever - in the soft sighs that escape from his mouth and the way Ryo's hands fist desperately into his shirt to pull him closer still.
It’s more than just a kiss - it’s the honesty that they both can't keep away from when they’re together - the reality in this fantasy. At times when the world felt so false and suffocating, and Pi was just another one its pawns, only the spaces in between them, in their comings and goings, harboured any truth worth believing in. He had made it his truth.
To Pi, it feels like a thousand days have passed since he met Ryo alone on the rooftop. At that time, it had seemed that all the wishes worth wishing for were in the future - but now he knows he was wrong. Right here and now in the present - this is where his most cherished wishes continue to exist.
*
Pi wakes up to the sight of Ryo staring at him with a hooded gaze.
“Hey,” he whispers.
“Hey,” Ryo murmurs back, cracking a small lopsided smile.
“Did you kiss me last night?”
Ryo laughs. “I think you gave your fair share back, too.”
Pi nods. “Good.”
Ryo smiles wickedly, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Yeah, that’s one word for it.”
He finds Ryo’s hand under the blankets and laces their fingers together. It’s amazing how everything just fits. He never knew it could be like that. Ryo leans over and brushes his nose against Pi’s cheek; a warm, soft kiss on the underside of his jaw.
“You know,” Pi whispers into Ryo’s ear, breath hitching as he nears his lips, “I feel like…like this was almost, just, not even possible, you know? I’m glad I was wrong.”
Just as Ryo’s about to reply, Pi’s phone buzzes on the night table, and he automatically reaches over a hand to grab it, flipping it open with a relaxed “Yeah?”
“I’ve been trying to get in contact with you forever!” Shige yells through the phone. “Every time I called that idiot Shingo told me you were too sick! I thought you were dying or something! You don’t sound like you’re dying!”
This is the Shige that Pi knows well - always working himself up, always on edge. Just hearing the heavy breathing on the other end of the line makes him grin with nostalgia.
“Hey, it’s been a while.”
“Is that all you have to say?!” Shige continues to shout somewhat incredulously. “After all the worrying you made me go through?!”
Pi holds the phone away from his ear as Ryo pokes him in the side, mouthing “Who is it?”
“Shige,” Pi mouths back, rolling his eyes. Ryo snorts and turns over, pretending to go back to sleep.
“Yamashita, are you even listening to me?” Shige trills. “I have something really urgent to talk to you about.”
“If it’s about the company, I don’t want to hear about it,” Pi says stoutly. “I’m quitting.”
“Yeah, you are quitting,” Shige says scornfully, surprising Pi. He thought he would put up a fight about it, not actually agree with him.
“You’ve told them already?” Pi asks uncertainly, reaching over to grab at the hem of Ryo’s crinkled work shirt. He turns around to give Pi a questioning glance. Pi just shakes his head silently.
Shige sighs down the line, and Pi can imagine him assuming his look of long-sufferance. “That’s something we can deal with later. What really matters is getting you re-signed before they realise the mess they’ve got themselves into.”
“Huh? What?” But the words are nothing but instinctive responses, because Pi can’t seem to register what Shige’s just said.
“Look we need to meet, Yamashita,” Shige says shortly in his business tone. “We need to talk about your future, and I can’t explain properly over the phone. Are you free this afternoon?
“Um, I guess so,” Pi answers, but his mind is still reeling.
“Great, let’s say around 2 o’clock?”
Pi’s brain desperately tries to catch up. “I suppose that’s okay, but Shige-”
“Good, I’ll text you the address later,” Shige carries on, supposedly in a big hurry. “See you then.”
He hangs up before Pi can even say goodbye. Pi stares at the mobile for a moment before placing it back on the bedside table.
“What was that about?” Ryo asks, turning back around.
Pi swallows, gathering his thoughts. “That was Shige. He wants to meet with me this afternoon and talk about my future.”
Ryo sits up disbelieving. “He wants you to go back to Johnny’s?”
“No, no,” Pi says, giving an involuntary shudder. “I think he wants me to re-sign with another agency.”
They both sit in silence for a while until Ryo finally lets out a breath.
“What do you want to do, Pi?” he asks quietly. “I mean, you don’t really need to work, right? You have enough money to last you a lifetime…but you can’t stay holed up here forever. Although I’ll admit it’s nice to have you around twenty-four seven just being domestic,” he adds wryly.
Pi bypasses the humour, just shrugs like he’s not really sure, and Ryo nods, as if he’s decided that’s good enough for him - that’s all the confirmation he needs.
“Meet with Shige,” he says. “There’s no harm, right?”
Pi’s mouth is set in a hard line. “Yeah, no harm.” He hadn’t really thought about it, but Ryo’s right. He can’t stay holed up forever - he’s already got a vicious case of cabin fever.
“Okay, I’m going to go have a shower and get ready,” he says, more determined than he feels. “It’s already 11 o’clock.”
As Pi pushes off the covers to get up, Ryo grabs his hand, presses a kiss into the inside of his wrist.
“What was that?” Pi asks, raising his eyebrows.
Ryo only shrugs and gives another lopsided smile. “It’s just really cool that I can do that now.”
Chapters 23-24
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: 5764
A/N: Only two more posts to go~
Chapter Twenty - News Breaks
It’s a slow road to recovery. Some days the feelings of hurt and desolation feel like a distant memory, and the only thing that’s tangible is the smirk that’s constantly plastered on Ryo’s face. But sometimes, he still wakes to find a room embroidered in flame, the smoke choking his lungs, and other times he can still feel the rain pressing in, forcing itself into his mouth and rushing down his throat like a river.
Pi tells Ryo to go back to work, but apparently Ryo hasn’t taken a proper break since last winter and Nakai is glad to see him gone for a while, just so he won’t have to fork out a huge lump sum for unpaid leave later on and possibly get yelled at by superiors. Well, not yelled at as such, Ryo has explained, but possibly receive a nasty little email. Or a memo. How satisfactory, the way of corporate communication.
Pi’s fever settles, but he develops a persistent cold that leaves him struggling to get out of bed and the doctor making further house calls. Pi doesn’t want to go out yet, doesn’t want to create more news. He knows he’s currently sitting in the eye of the storm - that short reprieve, that unexpected lull - and that soon he’s going to have to face the rhetorical music. But he wants to do it on his own terms. This whole thing seems to have played out so far outside of his grasp that now all he wants to do is take a moment to draw everything back towards him and find a way to assert his own actions.
And then there’s a news leak within the company.
*
Ryo’s making a visit to MLIT to clear up some confusion with the new railpass policy meeting, when Pi’s phone starts to ring. The first person to call is his mum, worried and upset and wishing her baby was nearby to feed and to comfort. Pi puts on his most mature voice and thinks it’s ironic that in the end it’s him comforting her. He tells her everything is going to be fine, all the while telling himself that it’s not that big of a lie.
The second person to call is, surprisingly, Kame, who trips over his words and managers to stammer out awkwardly, but genuinely, that he hopes that Pi’s okay. Pi figures that Jin is too nervous to call himself, and takes pity on him, letting him off the hook after two minutes of pause-laden conversation by saying he’s about to head out. Pi finally decides that having a stick shoved up your arse might not be a wholly bad thing - at least you’d have a decent posture.
The third person to call is Yu, and that’s what almost breaks Pi’s composure. Even though he’s been through all this, it still hurts.
“Pi, damn, are you okay?” Yu asks, and each word hits like a sledgehammer to the walls he’s building up to encase his wound.
Pi’s throat won’t open up enough for him to respond, and after a few seconds Yu goes, “How did this happen? I mean, really, it doesn’t make sense. It’s completely ridiculous.”
Pi can only shake his head silently.
“Pi? Pi, I’m serious, this isn’t right. Have you talked to your manager - what was his name - Shinichi?”
“Shigeaki,” Pi says hoarsely; automatically.
“You need to talk to him,” and his tone is business-like. “Find out what the hell is going in head office. These things can be renegotiated - you’re an important commodity, no matter what anyone says.”
Pi cringes at the choice of words, and it gives him the courage to say what he hadn’t been able to tell either his mother or Kame.
“I’m not going back, Yu. Even if they begged me, I wouldn’t.”
It’s Yu’s turn to pause, and Pi can picture him freezing on the other end of the line mid-pace, the wheels turning in his head as he absorbs the new information.
“Are you sure?” he asks finally.
“Y-yes,” Pi answers, cursing himself for the slightest hesitation. “I’m not going back.”
“If you say no, you can’t change your mind, Pi,” Yu goes on relentlessly. “There would be no going back, ever.”
Pi knows he’s trying to make sure that his sometimes spaced-out friend is covering all his options, but it doesn’t stop the words creating new cracks in his walls.
Pi stays silent, and Yu sighs.
“Just think about it, okay? Don’t rush into anything. There’s something not right about this whole thing, and it’s a huge decision. It’s not something you can make just like that.”
Pi wants to say that he understands that better than anyone else - he’s the one who’s been living this whole damn thing.
“Yeah, okay,” is what he says instead.
*
Ryo comes back late that night, when Pi’s already in bed watching a movie on Ryo’s Apple MacBook - one of the few joys that comes with being sick as a dog. Ryo walks in like a zombie, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, and collapses on top of the bed sheets next to him.
“Fucking incompetents, all of them,” he mumbles face-down into the mattress.
Pi moves the notebook to the bedside table and shuffles down to his spot - the indentation he’s been working on - and clasps his hands behind his head.
“The news of my hiatus is out,” he says without preamble.
Ryo doesn’t move for a moment, before languidly rolling over onto his back, assuming a similar pose.
“I heard some girls talking about it in the staff lounge,” Ryo says. “I didn’t want to call in case you didn’t know yet. I should have known someone would beat me to it.”
Pi raises an eyebrow at Ryo. “You don’t have to baby me, you know. I’m a grown boy and everything. I even shave.”
Ryo frowns and looks pointedly at the ceiling. “That’s not what I meant.”
Pi shifts his position so he’s now on his side facing Ryo, his hand supporting his head.
“It’s beside the point, but yeah, it was,” he says with a lopsided grin.
Still frowning, Ryo matches Pi, moving to his side. “If it’s beside the point, then shouldn’t you just be letting it go?”
Pi can feel the heat emanating from Ryo, can see each of the veins branching out and turning his tired eyes red. He knows there’s something odd about this scene. Something’s happened along the way, and although he can’t quite pinpoint the exact time or place and neither of them have talked about it, it’s there and it’s real. It makes him just the tiniest bit dizzy.
“Okay, I’m letting it go,” Pi submits. “Because that’s the kind of big, mature, grown-up I am,” and Ryo can’t stop the quirk at the corners of his mouth.
“So who told you?” Ryo asks, wisely choosing to drop the subject.
“My mum,” Pi sighs in response, picking at the fuzz balls on the linen sheets. “She was really worried. Kame and Yu called as well,” he adds.
“That was nice of them,” Ryo says mildly.
“I told Yu that I wouldn’t be going back to Johnny’s,” Pi continues. “He said if I told them there would be no going back ever. I don’t know, it’s just that when he said it, it kind of hit home…everything I would be leaving behind…just how long forever is.”
Pi lets out a long breath. “What am I doing, Ryo?”
There’s no uncertainty as Ryo reaches out to cradle Pi’s jaw in his hand, thumb stroking slowly over cheek. His hand moves to Pi’s shirt, taking a hold and tugging him forward lightly, and Pi willingly moves into a warm embrace.
“Your friend’s right you know,” Ryo says softly, breath lightly ruffling Pi’s hair. “There is no going back. Of course it’s going to be difficult, but you’ve made this decision already. You have to trust yourself, you know?”
Pi breathes in the smell of his shirt, all cleanness and Ryo, and burrows deeper into his neck, and wonders at how everything is instantly clearer. He thinks wars might end if only soldiers could smell what he can smell. They’d pack up and go home just like that.
He can see that line that he’s drawn in the sand, separating the past from the future. It identifies itself, and he identifies with it, and it tells him that he doesn’t have to think about it anymore - he’s thought enough for a lifetime.
“I know,” he says, and his voice is muffled. “I know.”
*
Pi’s phone just won’t stop ringing - even after the news programs have stopped reporting about him, and even after Pi’s too exhausted to answer it. Ryo turns it off for a while until Pi says “What if my mum calls again? She’ll get worried if I don’t answer,” and Ryo grudgingly turns it back on.
One afternoon after five calls in a row from the same unlisted number Ryo snatches the phone up and answers with a curt “What?”
There’s a confused noise on the other end before a voice says slowly “Yamashita-san?”
“This is Yamashita’s phone,” Ryo replies shortly. “He’s not well enough to answer the phone himself at the moment-”
“And who is this?” the voice cuts him off.
“This is Yamashita’s doctor” - acidly.
“Shingo?”
“That’s Dr. Shingo to you.”
The person on the other line doesn’t seem to be catching the tone and only goes on belligerently “Shingo, tell Yamashita that his manager needs to speak to him urgently. I don’t care how sick he is, this is important, he really needs to call me back.”
“Oh you don’t care, do you?” Ryo says in a low voice. “You just don’t care?! Pi is sick in bed, but that doesn’t matter because you have more important things to care about. Did you ever think that maybe that’s why he’s sick in the first place?”
“Who is this??” Shige says, now incredibly suspicious, but Ryo’s already snapped the phone shut.
There’s a rustle of sheets and Ryo sees Pi sit up groggily in bed.
“Ryo?” he says. “I had this weird dream that Shige called and needed to speak to me or the world was going to end.”
Ryo comes over and sits on the side of the bed next to Pi.
“What a stupid dream. Can’t you dream of more exciting things? Like me and Lindsay Lohan in those Marilyn Monroe pictures, for instance.”
“Why would I be dreaming of you and Lindsay Lohan?”
“I think we both know how hot that would be.”
He leans over and presses a kiss on Pi’s forehead before he can retaliate, smoothing down his hair.
“Now go back to sleep,” he adds, getting up and crossing the room. “You can tell me all about some more interesting dreams when you wake up.”
That night Pi dreams of Ryo and Lindsay Lohan. It is kind of hot.
Chapter Twenty-One - Putting Ghosts to Rest
Like before, when the scandal broke, Pi gets sick of being locked up inside constantly. He’s feeling almost 100% better, except for a runny nose that reworks his pronunciation and adds an exceptional nasal flair. Ryo, unfortunately for Pi, has the strictest, most unrelenting bedside manner, and all attempts to convince him to let his hostage out for some fresh air are shot down like ducks in winter. Pi hatches a plan to wear Ryo out with constant television viewing (Ryo always got drowsy after a few episodes of Gossip Girl), and then sneak out quietly, with some optional maniacal laughter once he was out of ear shot. He’s about to implement his plan when Ryo suddenly gets a call, from a panicked-sounding Hikaru.
“Ryo, man, you have to help me,” he whispers desperately, as soon as Ryo picks up the phone, just as Pi’s about to turn on the television.
“What the fuck? Hikaru?” Ryo answers confusedly, double-checking the user ID.
Hikaru almost whimpers through the phone. “Ryo I did something really stupid, and now I’m in deep shit man, and Nakai has been watching me like a vulture. Like, seriously deep shit.”
“Hikaru, first, slow down,” Ryo says, trying not to sound too annoyed. “Secondly, I repeat - what the fuck?”
He can hear Hikaru taking some slow, deep breaths as he attempts to attain some simulation of calm.
“Ryo,” Hikaru says finally, “You know how you’re always telling me to take initiative?”
And this is how he’s going to blackmail me into helping him, and even Ryo’s inner voice is leaden with irony.
“Cut to the chase, Hikaru,” Ryo deadpans. He can almost hear Hikaru cringing on the other end.
“Well,” Hikaru continues, “I overheard Nakai talking to Tsuyoshi about how the Hydrogen Fuel Cell project has stalled, and I decided to do some investigating.”
“Some investigating, huh,” Ryo mutters, which Hikaru chooses to ignore.
“Turns out that some of the sponsors are thinking of pulling out of phase two of the plan. Something about how the proposed number of hydrogen fuelling stations don’t meet the requirements of the fleet of vehicles being designed. It’s an important issue because they’ve been investing a lot of money in this.”
Hikaru pauses, and Ryo doesn’t need to guess where this is heading.
“You arranged a meeting with the sponsors,” he says in a low, deadly voice.
“Kind of,” Hikaru hedges.
“Oh God, Hikaru, what did you do?” he asks, trying to suppress a moan. This wasn’t even their section, for crying out loud.
Hikaru gulps. “I arranged a meeting between the sponsors and the fuel providers.”
Ryo wants to bang his head on the coffee table.
“And why, just why exactly, would you do that?”
“I just thought,” Hikaru says, all the characteristic bravado leaking out of his voice, “that if they met, they could work things out. Like, talk about each other’s needs. But they just got mad at each other.”
“That’s because that’s what the JHFC sector are for! MLIT have nothing to do with this!” Ryo explodes.
“I thought I could push things along a little!” Hikaru whinges, beginning to panic again.
Ryo growls, and thinks all the swear words under the sun upon Hikaru, until he remembers that holding in emotions is just unhealthy.
“You’re an arrogant, self-centred, irritating little shit, did you know that?” Ryo hisses, as Pi turns to give him a questioning look.
“That’s great, but it doesn’t help me, Ryo!” Hikaru cries, apparently unperturbed by curses. “I need your help to get out of this mess!”
Ryo leans forward, places his head between his knees, and wishes he hadn’t run out of cigarettes that morning.
“Ryo?” Hikaru asks pleadingly.
He knew it would come down to this, he really did.
“Fine,” says Ryo shortly. “I’ll be there in an hour,” before hanging up.
“What was all that about?” Pi asks as Ryo hangs up the phone.
Ryo shakes his head, getting up from the couch. “You don’t want to know. But I’m going to work for a while. Call if you need me.”
“I won’t need you, but okay,” Pi hollers after him.
All he can think of is how he’s going to be running out that door as soon as Ryo’s left the building. He sends a silent prayer of thanks to poor Hikaru and hopes Ryo doesn’t beat him up too badly.
*
Pi pulls on a warm jacket and a beanie, and decides that he has a desperate appointment with a supermarket. Across town. He never did make it home with those puddings after all.
Two train rides later, Pi finds himself in a familiar suburb. He used to hang about around here in his junior days, skiving off school with his friends and loitering at the corner store. It’s one of those suburbs where the days appear to go slower and the summer heat stops the dragonflies mid-flight. The people smile at each other as they walk down the street, and after 9 o’clock the houses stand tall and silent, facing wide grassy fields where children have worn themselves out playing baseball. It’s a comfort to see that not much has changed - a little peeled paint and some rusted metal, but that was all superficial really. It was the heart of the country that counted.
Pi finds his way to his favourite convenience store - the only one that had sold his favourite brand of icy poles - and pushes aside the beads that hang from the door frame. There’s no one else inside except a shopkeeper that greets him with a sleepy “Welcome”. He takes his time looking through the aisles, picking up things here and there. He somehow wants to thank this shop for playing a role in that memorable time of his childhood, and the only way he can think of is by buying as much stuff as possible. He ends up with three bags of pudding, ice tea and lollies that he hasn’t eaten in ten years or more. The surprised shopkeeper throws in a free coffee that Pi takes outside with him. He sits himself down on the curb and cups its warmth between his hands.
As he takes his first sip, someone comes around the corner and trips over one of Pi’s shopping bags, sending the contents rolling out over the pavement. The man lets out a startled noise before apologising repeatedly, him and Pi racing around the pick up the items. As the final pudding is placed in the bag, Pi looks up to thank the stranger and makes the astonishing discovery that, in fact, it’s not a stranger at all.
Ikuta Toma blinks at Pi with large brown eyes, jaw falling open slightly.
“Yamashita?”
Pi swallows, a million thoughts racing through his head. “Toma?”
And then Toma’s clapping him on the shoulder with a huge grin on his face. “Oh my God, it’s been ages!”
Pi searches Toma’s face for bitterness or anger or spite, but there’s only earnest good humour. He really does look good, wearing faded black jeans and a teal hoodie, and Pi thinks, of course. What did you expect, loser? It’s only been 6 years. Face slowly breaking into a smile, Pi bows deeply to his old friend.
“It’s good to see you, again.” And he means it.
*
They’re sitting in the neighbourhood park on an old set of swings, snapping the ends off pocky sticks. It’s like the old days when they used to have competitions to see who could stuff the most number of Ramune candy into their mouths before choking. They recall their times as juniors, and Toma pretends to be disgusted that Pi doesn’t seem to have changed a bit - there’s still that underlying purity, the gullibility, the not quite apologetic moments where he doesn’t seem to be all there. Pi is amazed that the same can be said about Toma - he’s still the good-natured, uncomplaining and open person that he used to be. It’s like their friendship has just picked up from where Pi left it, sitting patiently by the doorway, wagging its tail and waiting for the homecoming. It’s nice - the instantaneous camaraderie.
Toma, it seems, hasn’t heard of Pi’s situation.
“So what have you been up to these days?” he asks, scuffing his feet into the packed dirt under the swing. “You had a movie coming out, right? I saw the posters over at the cinema. You might need to stop going to the gym, because that’s not quite what I would call a natural look,” he jokes.
Pi looks at the ground, and it’s the first time he says it with a smile and without his heart plummeting towards his stomach; “Actually, I’m on hiatus at the moment. I’m going to quit.”
Toma nods as if he’s not surprised. “You were always too good for them.”
Pi lets out a bark of laughter. “I’m what?? I think you need your head checked, Toma. If you knew what’s been going on the past couple of months, you’d have a completely different opinion.”
Reaching over, Toma pushes Pi’s chain so that he goes swinging to the side. “I’m being serious!” he exclaims loudly, grinning. “What, were you going to go through life letting some boy-band talent agency dictate your every move?”
Pi shakes his head, an uncontrollable smile plastered on his face. “Why, did you have something else planned for me?”
“Yamapi-burgers,” Toma says earnestly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. But there’s a twinkle in his eye. “I was going to have you open up a chain of restaurants to rival Maccas, with burgers in the shape of your head. There would have been the 100% Beefy Pi, the Cheesy Pi, and the Pi’s-No-Chicken-But-This-Burger-Is Pi. You could have blown Kame and his shamelessly sexy KFC ads out of the water. Trust me, they would’ve been sell-outs.”
“That’s so random I don’t even know how to respond,” Pi snorts. “Plus, I’m not sure how I feel about people eating my head.”
“I’m sure people have done worse things to your magazine pages,” Toma says with a wink.
Pi covers his ears in revulsion. “I can’t believe you just said that! That’s disgusting!
Suddenly Toma leaps up animatedly as a thought hits him, pointing his pocky in the air. “Oh my gosh, do you remember the time where we plastered the walls of Jun’s locker with those shirtless pictures of Takki?? The look on his face!”
Pi bursts into giggles. “That was priceless! He wouldn’t talk to us for the rest of dance practice!” Then he stops abruptly, cocking his head to the side. “I can’t remember why we did that.”
“Yeah, me either,” Toma says, furrowing his eyebrows. “I just know it was really funny.”
“Yeah,” Pi smiles, and Toma seats himself back on the swing.
“So what have you been up to?” Pi asks, finally gathering his courage.
“I’m doing stage choreography,” Toma says, and Pi can tell he’s proud of where he’s at. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t have a clue, you were never much in the theatre circuit. After I left Johnny’s a troupe that I did a play with once called me up and asked me if I wanted some work. School was more of a back-up plan, and I kind of knew that I wouldn’t be on television or in magazines anymore - the Kitagawas are such Nazis about blacklisting lost talent, and I wouldn’t have stood a chance anyway. So when they offered…well, I grabbed it. After that I began working with some guys that did stage combat and dance choreography and stuff. It was a really good opportunity. I’ve never looked back since.”
“That’s really great, Toma,” Pi says, and it’s nothing but sincere. It’s what he had hoped but had been too scared to confirm - Toma, happy, and carving out a life for himself outside of the company.
“Yeah, it is,” Toma says, grinning, before glancing quickly at his watch. “Sorry, I have to go, I’m meeting a friend for dinner. But exchange numbers with me - you have to call me again now that you don’t have any work to use as an excuse,” he teases.
“Definitely,” Pi laughs, getting his mobile out. “You can count on it.”
Chapter Twenty-Two - At the End of the Day
Ryo arrives at work and dodges a startled Nakai, before herding Hikaru and Tsuyoshi into an empty room to discuss tactics. Tsuyoshi doesn’t seem too surprised by the disclosure of events, and actually proposes some helpful ideas, which is just what Ryo expected. They decide another meeting is in order, this time with the help of the JHFC to work as a medium, and that further talks with key sponsors such as Toyota and Tokyo Gas would be needed to ensure individuals were being kept happy. When Ryo gets up to leave it’s already 8pm, letting Hikaru know that he’ll be back at work soon to sort out more details. Hikaru would have to spill the news to the department heads and cop the blame, and Ryo wouldn’t be surprised if his contract got a working over. On the one hand, Ryo’s pleased because Hikaru needs to be taken down a notch, but on the other hand, he realises that he’ll actually miss the little shit if he had to shift sectors. He resolves to talk to Nakai and try to put in a good word before any decisions are made.
He kind of wonders where the cynical bastard who didn’t give a flying fuck about what his colleagues were up to or what kind of projects needed to be worked on, has gone to. He tells himself that he’s still the same old self-absorbed guy who only looks out for his own self-interest, but even now he can feel that that’s changed. Ever since Pi, the world has just spun around on its back.
When he gets home, the lights in the living room have been turned off and Pi’s in the kitchen fixing himself a warm drink of lemon and honey. He’s got a smile on his face, eyes crinkling in the corners, and he’s dressed in a white shirt and boxers. Ryo can’t help thinking, Oh, fuck.
“How’s it going?” Ryo asks, voice gruff.
Pi looks up from his glass, still smiling. “Pretty good.”
He looks better than he has in weeks, that much is obvious. There’s a glow to his cheeks, a fire in his eyes, and he looks to Ryo like he’s finally ready to take on the world.
All of a sudden, Pi flicks the kitchen lights off, so they are standing essentially in the dark.
He steps close and says, much to the dismay of Ryo’s trying heart, “So what are we going to do tonight?”
It’s happening, it’s happening, it’s happening. The thought repeats itself in Ryo’s head, putting his mind into overload. But they’re inches apart, and he can feel Pi’s honey-lemon breath tickling his hair.
“We’re not going to think about me kissing you,” and Ryo knows he’s already broken any previous promises of self control even before the words are out of his mouth.
The lie sings bright and incandescent in the dark, and the city lights shining through the windows are casting shadows on the wall of two figures startlingly close.
“Really?” is the barely whispered reply.
Pi is staring at his lips, and even though they’re not yet touching, fingers have strayed, closing the distance, only a wing-beat of a moth away. Breath, blood and sweat alone fuse the space from skin to burning skin.
Everything this time seems more than real. And this time there is no retreating movements for the safety of the barricades. The discordant pull guiding their connection has become a resonating murmur that yearns only for unity and reconciliation.
And Pi stands there as if frozen in time, eyes never wavering. His chest rises and falls with heavy breath, and his lashes quaver slightly, like falling ash against flushed cheeks.
Ryo thinks, even fallen from grace and living through agony and heartbreak, he is still the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.
And then Ryo closes the distance and it’s all over.
*
The gears fall into place, and there, right there - another pause in the wheel’s never-ending cyclical journey.
Ryo, who is always paradoxically alternating between extreme anxiety and careless confidence;
Ryo, who thought he was hurt too badly to ever put his faith in anything or anyone else even if they could bring themselves to want him;
Ryo, who has spent all his life running towards something (running away from something) invisible, persistent, always out of reach;
Right now, is too in awe to care about composure, and too in love to care about reasons. So many years of going round in circles and here, finally, yeah, Ryo can see it - the longed-for destination. Ripping its way through the static; gathering moments rushing forth and entwining together in lyrical madness…and ending with soft lips moving against his, slowly at first and then with unexpected urgency, and hot fingers at the back of his neck, branding him; this is mine, all mine. It’s the cadence, it’s the fall, it’s everything, it’s everything. And it’s so much more than ever promised.
*
He’s wanted this so desperately, for so long, that all he can do is wonder at the miracle of its happening. Ryo’s grip on his hip is bruising, and the short ragged breaths make his lungs ache, but Pi doesn’t think there could be anything sweeter. He wants is to revel in this moment forever - in the soft sighs that escape from his mouth and the way Ryo's hands fist desperately into his shirt to pull him closer still.
It’s more than just a kiss - it’s the honesty that they both can't keep away from when they’re together - the reality in this fantasy. At times when the world felt so false and suffocating, and Pi was just another one its pawns, only the spaces in between them, in their comings and goings, harboured any truth worth believing in. He had made it his truth.
To Pi, it feels like a thousand days have passed since he met Ryo alone on the rooftop. At that time, it had seemed that all the wishes worth wishing for were in the future - but now he knows he was wrong. Right here and now in the present - this is where his most cherished wishes continue to exist.
*
Pi wakes up to the sight of Ryo staring at him with a hooded gaze.
“Hey,” he whispers.
“Hey,” Ryo murmurs back, cracking a small lopsided smile.
“Did you kiss me last night?”
Ryo laughs. “I think you gave your fair share back, too.”
Pi nods. “Good.”
Ryo smiles wickedly, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Yeah, that’s one word for it.”
He finds Ryo’s hand under the blankets and laces their fingers together. It’s amazing how everything just fits. He never knew it could be like that. Ryo leans over and brushes his nose against Pi’s cheek; a warm, soft kiss on the underside of his jaw.
“You know,” Pi whispers into Ryo’s ear, breath hitching as he nears his lips, “I feel like…like this was almost, just, not even possible, you know? I’m glad I was wrong.”
Just as Ryo’s about to reply, Pi’s phone buzzes on the night table, and he automatically reaches over a hand to grab it, flipping it open with a relaxed “Yeah?”
“I’ve been trying to get in contact with you forever!” Shige yells through the phone. “Every time I called that idiot Shingo told me you were too sick! I thought you were dying or something! You don’t sound like you’re dying!”
This is the Shige that Pi knows well - always working himself up, always on edge. Just hearing the heavy breathing on the other end of the line makes him grin with nostalgia.
“Hey, it’s been a while.”
“Is that all you have to say?!” Shige continues to shout somewhat incredulously. “After all the worrying you made me go through?!”
Pi holds the phone away from his ear as Ryo pokes him in the side, mouthing “Who is it?”
“Shige,” Pi mouths back, rolling his eyes. Ryo snorts and turns over, pretending to go back to sleep.
“Yamashita, are you even listening to me?” Shige trills. “I have something really urgent to talk to you about.”
“If it’s about the company, I don’t want to hear about it,” Pi says stoutly. “I’m quitting.”
“Yeah, you are quitting,” Shige says scornfully, surprising Pi. He thought he would put up a fight about it, not actually agree with him.
“You’ve told them already?” Pi asks uncertainly, reaching over to grab at the hem of Ryo’s crinkled work shirt. He turns around to give Pi a questioning glance. Pi just shakes his head silently.
Shige sighs down the line, and Pi can imagine him assuming his look of long-sufferance. “That’s something we can deal with later. What really matters is getting you re-signed before they realise the mess they’ve got themselves into.”
“Huh? What?” But the words are nothing but instinctive responses, because Pi can’t seem to register what Shige’s just said.
“Look we need to meet, Yamashita,” Shige says shortly in his business tone. “We need to talk about your future, and I can’t explain properly over the phone. Are you free this afternoon?
“Um, I guess so,” Pi answers, but his mind is still reeling.
“Great, let’s say around 2 o’clock?”
Pi’s brain desperately tries to catch up. “I suppose that’s okay, but Shige-”
“Good, I’ll text you the address later,” Shige carries on, supposedly in a big hurry. “See you then.”
He hangs up before Pi can even say goodbye. Pi stares at the mobile for a moment before placing it back on the bedside table.
“What was that about?” Ryo asks, turning back around.
Pi swallows, gathering his thoughts. “That was Shige. He wants to meet with me this afternoon and talk about my future.”
Ryo sits up disbelieving. “He wants you to go back to Johnny’s?”
“No, no,” Pi says, giving an involuntary shudder. “I think he wants me to re-sign with another agency.”
They both sit in silence for a while until Ryo finally lets out a breath.
“What do you want to do, Pi?” he asks quietly. “I mean, you don’t really need to work, right? You have enough money to last you a lifetime…but you can’t stay holed up here forever. Although I’ll admit it’s nice to have you around twenty-four seven just being domestic,” he adds wryly.
Pi bypasses the humour, just shrugs like he’s not really sure, and Ryo nods, as if he’s decided that’s good enough for him - that’s all the confirmation he needs.
“Meet with Shige,” he says. “There’s no harm, right?”
Pi’s mouth is set in a hard line. “Yeah, no harm.” He hadn’t really thought about it, but Ryo’s right. He can’t stay holed up forever - he’s already got a vicious case of cabin fever.
“Okay, I’m going to go have a shower and get ready,” he says, more determined than he feels. “It’s already 11 o’clock.”
As Pi pushes off the covers to get up, Ryo grabs his hand, presses a kiss into the inside of his wrist.
“What was that?” Pi asks, raising his eyebrows.
Ryo only shrugs and gives another lopsided smile. “It’s just really cool that I can do that now.”
Chapters 23-24