It All Leads To A New Year.
Title: It All Leads To A New Year.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ryo/Uchi, YokoHina friendship, OhMaru friendship, Subaru/un-named OC (It’s just a reason for yasuba to exist), Yasuda/Subaru
Genre: AU, Romance, Slight Angst, Fluff
Warning: Limited knowledge of song making, quiet a big word count and an OC.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a work of fiction.
Summary: Hina’s the big boss of a company and Yoko’s his employee who does nothing but to eat and game. Subaru’s depressed but Yasuda is as shiny as always. Ryo’s an idiot who doesn’t know how to express his feelings and Uchi’s sort of mysterious. Maru has a surprise for Ohkura.
A/N: Inspired by Love Actually. I wanted to write it for Christmas but ran out of time so I changed it to a New Year context. Characters and plot aren’t exactly the same but the concept is. I didn't expect it to be a lot of work writing so many characters at one go but I'm glad I was able to finish this! :D
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Prologue
Ryo remembers that night clearly. He remembers the way the streetlights illuminate the thin sheet of rain falling from the starless sky. He remembers sitting on the steps outside Umeda station with a guitar on his lap, singing a sad love song to people who don’t really care. He remembers stopping his song midway, wanting to give up for the night when long pale fingers enter his line of sight. He watches, as if mesmerized, as those fingers drop a 10 000 yen note into his black guitar case. It’s the most he had gotten from a single person before. Intrigued, he raises his head to look at the generous person. He’s surprised to see a man looking down at him, a beautiful one at that.
“Why’d you stop?”
“Eh?”
The man’s voice is soft. He can barely hear it through the pitter-patter of the raindrops. But he’s able to note the hint of sadness in those mumbled words.
“Why did you stop?”
“Because no one was listening,” Ryo answers, shrugging the man off as he packs the guitar back into its case.
But his eyes never leaves the man who’s standing pitifully in front of him. With his wet, baggy long sleeved T-shirt sticking to his thin frame and his bangs plastered across his forehead, he looks no different from any homeless person on the street. Heck, even those homeless look well-fed compared to the man.
“I was listening.”
Ryo shrugs and makes a non-committal grunt.
“Too bad I’m done for the night,” he says as he slings the case over his right shoulder.
There isn’t any answer; not that he’s expecting one. The man doesn’t move. He’s still staring at the spot Ryo has just vacated moments before.
“Come back tomorrow. I’ll be here every night.”
And he does.
He comes the following night too. And the next night. And the next.
The man just sits in front of Ryo, not minding the cold concrete. Nor does he mind the questionable stares coming from passers-by. He’ll sit and listen but he never talks. And when Ryo decides to call it a night, he’ll drop a 10 000 yen note into his guitar case and mumbles a soft thank you before walking off into the night.
Ryo never questions the man. As far as he’s concerned, he gets enough money to last him for a few days in just one night, and that’s enough.
But when the man appears one night with a huge suitcase in tow and balancing two boxes in one hand, Ryo can’t help but to ask.
“Going somewhere?”
The man jumps at his question and will have drop his boxes if Ryo isn’t fast enough to catch them before they hit the ground.
“Whoa. What’s wrong with you? Are you running from the law or something?” he jokes as he walks over and settles down on the steps, placing the boxes next to his guitar case.
“Nothing,” the man mumbles while clumsily placing his huge suitcase in front of him.
“Any special request for tonight?”
Ryo picks up his guitar, his yellow pick already in hand.
“Play that song again.”
And somehow, even with that vague response, Ryo knows which song the man’s talking about. So he plays.
And plays.
And plays as the man sits next to him, arms huddling his knees together tightly. And when he gets tired of it, he stops.
But that night, the man doesn’t mumble his usual thank you; neither does he drop that 10 00 yen note into his guitar case. In fact, he doesn’t move at all. Even when Ryo is done packing and even when he’s walking off, the man doesn’t budge.
It takes a while for Ryo to stop walking and to turn back towards the station. He doesn’t know why but he sees the man as a lost puppy; a lost puppy that’s been abandoned in the rain with nowhere to go. He can’t leave him alone just like that.
And sure enough, when he returns to the station, the man is still sitting in the same position. Heaving a sigh, he walks over.
“You all right?”
A nod.
“Do you have any place to stay tonight?”
The man shakes his head, confirming Ryo’s suspicion.
Ryo rolls his eyes heavenward. Great. Now that he knows that the man doesn’t have a place to stay, he has to help. It’s just not right to leave him on the streets.
“Look,” he says “my apartment’s near here. You can crash on my couch for the night. If you want to that is.”
The man looks up. Relief and a hint of caution reflecting in those big brown orbs.
“I won’t kill you if that’s what you’re worried about.”
The man shakes his head violently as he stands up.
“Thank you,” he says as he bows deeply.
“Yeah, whatever. You’ll leave tomorrow right?”
“I will.”
But he doesn’t. Somehow, the man ends up staying for a week.
Ryo keeps reminding himself to kick the man out the next day because he doesn’t like his private space being invaded by a stranger, but when morning comes and he sees the man sleeping peacefully on his couch, his resolve is broken.
And a week turns into a month.
Ryo doesn’t mind the man’s presence anymore. He’s no longer that quite, strange man he met a month ago. He finds that the man - Uchi Hiroki - might be quiet at times but mostly he’s just whiny and bitchy and downright giggly when he’s drunk. To make matters worse, he has a mother complex.
“My mum always says that it’s better to clean using a wet cloth.”
Ryo stops wiping the coffee table and looks at Uchi, eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.
“Why don’t you do it then?”
“No thanks,” Uchi answers as he munches on potato chips on the couch, “It’s your job as the host. I pay my rent don’t I?”
Sighing, Ryo goes back to his chore. He has never won an argument with Uchi before. Besides, he does make sense. Ryo doesn’t know how Uchi does it - he has never seen Uchi leaving the house unless it’s to accompany him in his job - but Uchi never fails to hand him the rent at the end of the week. Uchi doesn’t say and he doesn’t ask so they just leave it at that.
Even after a month, he still doesn’t know Uch Hiroki.
And a month turns into a year.
Ryo is no longer a street musician, having being signed up by a record label. And Uchi, his very first fan, helps him along, giving him his ideas and opinions. Even though they sound bitchy and whiny and irritating, Ryo has learned to ignore the whining, only filtering out the main points. It gives him less of a headache.
The one room apartment that they share is replaced by a modest two-room, right in the heart of Tokyo. Ryo isn’t surprised when Uchi asks for Ryo’s permission to move in with him. Over the year, both of them have settled into a comfortable routine and neither of them wants to break away from it. If people are to ask what Uchi is to him, he’ll probably tell them that Uchi’s a roommate and a friend, even though there’s that tiny voice in the corner of his voice that tells him there’s something more. He chooses to ignore it. Life’s much simpler that way.
And a year turns into three.
Their comfortable routine gets disrupted when Ryo gets a breakthrough in his career. They used to spend evenings together, just drinking and talking about random things that don’t really matter, but now, Uchi spends his evenings alone while Ryo’s out somewhere, partying or doing God knows what, only coming back home drunk at the wee hours of the morning or not coming home at all.
It’s not that Ryo forgets his first fan now that he has thousands of them. The problem is that Ryo can’t keep Uchi out of his mind; his soothing voice, his high-pitched laughter, his bitching, his whining; and Ryo doesn’t like that. It makes his stomach feel funny and his heart beat in an unusual rate. To put it simply, it makes him uncomfortable. Uchi is his friend. He doesn’t want to think him as something more.
And so he turns to alcohol and women he finds in random bars in the hopes of forgetting Uchi but no amount of shots he toss down his throat, and no amount of leggy, big-breasted women clawing all over him can make him forget.
He decides to kick Uchi out for the sake of both their sanity. He should have done it three years ago anyway. But when he gets home that night, Uchi is already gone, leaving only a note.
Thank you for everything. Goodbye.
Uchi Hiroki.
30 Days till New Year
“I still don’t think it’ll work,” Yokoyama Yuu, COE of Murakami Inc. whines as he punches the buttons on his DS violently.
“It’ll work out. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Subaru will hate it for sure. He hates dressing up.”
Murakami Shingo, nicknamed Hina by his two childhood friends, smirks at that thought. But this isn’t about Subaru. It’s Murakami Inc.’s 25th year in organising this event. He wants to make it special, and thus the black tie event.
“Have you heard their demo tapes yet?”
Shingo nods his head as he goes through this year’s performer’s profile. He has listened to the tapes but he can’t judge them. He doesn’t understand music that much. But his father does, and that’s why even though they’re a banking company, Murakami Inc. hosts a music showcase every year without fail on New Year’s Eve. His father has decided that only the best goes up that stage 25 years ago, and that’s why Shingo leaves the selection process to much capable hands.
“Shit.”
Yoko slams the lid of his DS shut as he stands. Shingo doesn’t even twitch.
“Wanna go for lunch?”
He checks his watch. It’s only 11:30.
“Are you good for anything besides eating and gaming?”
“Sure. Sucking up to the boss. That’s why you haven’t fired me yet,” Yoko answers deadpanned.
Chuckling a little and resisting the urge to smack his friend’s head, Shingo stands and follow him out the door.
“The event’s going to fail.”
“No it’s not.”
And they bicker all the way until Yoko’s stuffing his mouth with gyoza. Only then does it stop.
20 Days till New Year
Subaru clenches his fist in his coat pocket, crumbling the pair of concert tickets at the same time. He stares at the woman sitting in front of him. She’s what most men will call a perfect woman - thin, long legs; the model type, and she even has a wonderful personality to boot. But too bad for Subaru, she’s breaking up with him.
“I’m really sorry but you barely have time for us. After work, you either hang out with your friends or you hide yourself in your room with your guitar. Sometime, I feel that you forget that I exist.”
Subaru keeps quiet, collecting his thoughts. They had this argument many times before but they have never been this serious; not when he risks losing her.
“I promise I’ll change if you give me one more chance.”
She sighs, coaxing his left hand out of his pocket, cupping it with both her hands. It feels pleasantly warm.
“I don’t think it’s going to work. We’re just too… different.”
He ends up nodding his head because her eyes are so soft, so kind, that he isn’t able to refuse.
She releases his hand, strokes his cheeks twice, just like she always does, before she stands up.
“Goodbye. I’ll hope you’ll find someone good for you.”
“Un. You too.”
With a watery smile, she grabs her handbag and walks away, leaving a numb Subaru alone and out of place in that cafe.
He watches her back until she leaves out of sight. He doesn’t miss the slight shuddering of her shoulders from time to time and he knows that he’s not the only one who’s hurt.
Slowly, he takes out his right hand out and lays it on the small table. He uncurls his fingers and a pair of tickets, all crumpled and slightly torn, falls out. He leaves it like that.
Yasuda Shota taps his pencil furiously on the small table in front of him. Several score sheets are spread carelessly across the table, his guitar lying carefully on the chair next to him. He looks around the café for any source of inspiration but he finds none. He has a gig coming up in a few weeks, something that can make him big, make record companies notice his presence but he knows he’s doomed since the score sheets in front of him remain empty. He can go with his older songs but they are all normal; he needs something unique to stand out. He’s about to give up and find another place when his gaze lands on a couple a few tables away. They aren’t doing anything to attract attention; in fact they aren’t even talking, and yet, Yasuda can hear the man’s discomfort loud and clear; the way his intense gaze rests on the woman, the way his shoulders are hunched up; they speak louder than his blank expression ever will.
Without even realizing it, Yasuda’s already picking up his pen and starting to scribble at an empty sheet of paper. The words flow naturally from his brain to the paper and he’s already forming a melody at the back of his head. When he’s done, he looks up from the paper, a little bit dazed but it’s all worth it because he has a song, a song that speaks of unrequited love with a dash of hope.
When he looks up, the couple is already gone, the only thing that’s left is a couple of paper lying on the table. Yasuda walks over and upon closer inspection, he finds it to be a pair of concert tickets. Without much thought, he pockets it, thinking that he’ll return it to the owner if he has the chance to see him. Because he really wants to see him again.
7 Days till New Year
“Good morning!”
Maruyama Ryuhei, a man too hyper and cheerful for his age, drags opens the curtains with full of gusto. His high-school friend, Ohkura Tadayoshi, grumbles incoherently, pulling up the blanket until it covers his face with much effort, only to have it being pulled down again.
“Wake up, Tatsu!”
Ohkura, still not wanting to give up his sleep, grabs a pillow and covers his head.
“Five more minutes,” he mumbles.
“It’s Christmas!”
“You don’t celebrate Christmas.”
“But you do!”
Maru tugs at Ohkura’s hands, trying to persuade him out of his sleep but to no avail. He stares at Ohkura for a while, a smile forming on his lips when an idea hits him.
“I’ve got you a present.”
Immediately, Ohkura sits up and is getting out of bed when he trips over the blanket, falling to the floor face first.
Maru, who’s fast enough to avoid being hit, breaks into a fit of laughter.
“Shut up.”
Maru tries to stop, he really does, but when he catches sight of Ohkura’s pout and the bruise that’s forming at the corner of his forehead, his laughter breaks out again.
“Maru…”
“All right, all right. I’ll stop.”
Chuckling, he takes out an envelope from his pocket and passes it to Ohkura who’s sitting decently at the edge of the bed. Ohkura opens it up slowly.
“Are you serious?”
Eyes open wide, mouth hanging open; he stares disbelievingly at the pair of tickets in his hands.
“Yeap. You’ve always said that you want to go to Hawaii haven’t you?”
Ohkura looks up at Maru, speechless.
Satisfied, Maru grins widely and walks out of the room.
“Oh yeah,” he says from the doorway, “We’ll be leaving on New Year’s Day. Right after that catering job.”
Ohkura just nods, eyes never leaving the tickets in his hands.
“Merry Christmas.”
New Year’s Eve
“I know it’ll turn out good.”
Shingo rests both his hands on his hips as he observes the crowd from the corner of the art gallery. It’s a great turnout, he thinks, especially since it’s different from the previous years. A sizable amount of people is already gathering in front of the stage, chatting amiably amongst each other. Shingo’s smile broadens.
Yoko, who’s standing next to him, starts to fiddle with his tie, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Unlike Shingo, he doesn’t like socialising; he’s uncomfortable around strangers.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Nishikido Ryo is coming today.”
“The Nishikido Ryo? That popular guy whose music is on every radio station?”
“The one and the same.”
“You’ve outdone yourself, Hina.”
“Thanks.”
At that moment, Yoko suddenly bursts into a chuckle. Curious, Shingo follows his line of vision.
“How’d you manage to get in with that outfit?” Yoko asks.
Subaru, who’s currently Yoko’s source of amusement, scowls as a respond.
“Killed the security guy and dumped him at the back.”
Yoko lets out a high-pitched laughter and smacks Subaru’s back.
Subaru, wearing a pair of torn jeans, a black t-shirt two sizes too big for him and a beanie, almost fall from the impact.
“Hey,” Shingo says, trying to suppress a chuckle.
Subaru nods in acknowledgement.
“I hate the both of you.”
“We love you too, Baru. Don’t we, Hina?”
“Whose great idea is it to make this a formal event?”
Grinning cheerfully, Yoko points a finger to Shingo who just rolls his eyes.
“I’m going to kill you when this is over.”
“Idiot.”
A comfortable silence hangs between the three of them as they continue to observe the crowd.
“Hey, Baru?” Shingo speaks up.
“Enjoy yourself tonight, all right? Who knows, maybe you’ll find a great girl.”
“Or guy,” Yoko pipes in and instantly, Shingo’s right hand lands on his head with a thwack.
A microphone feedback diverts their attention to the stage.
“See, I told you this isn’t going to work out.”
“Shut up,” Subaru and Shingo say simultaneously.
“It’s going to work out.”
Ryo walks over to the bar the moment he enters the gallery. He doesn’t want to be in this stupid event in the first place, but his pushy - and not to mention incompetent - manager has forced him to go, stating that it’s obligatory for him to attend, even when he doesn’t want to.
The bartender greets him with a warm smile.
“Gin.”
Yasuda can’t stop fidgeting in his seat as he looks around the holding area at the other contestants. All of them are smartly dressed in dress shirts and slacks. He’s the only one in a blue overall and a green T-shirt, and not to mention the brightly dyed hair. He’d thought that dressing up like this will give him an extra flair, it’s his personality after all, but now, he isn’t too sure.
The organizer who’d introduce himself as Murakami earlier on walks into the room, his right hand man, Yokoyama, not far behind.
“Good evening!”
He’s sure that Murakami doesn’t intend to shout but his voice is loud enough to be considered as one.
“My father started this event years ago so that talented musicians such as yourselves can be discovered and get signed by record companies. Tonight, there are many of those companies waiting outside.”
Yasuda’s eyes light up when he hears Murakami’s speech. He already knows what’s in store for him but to hear from the horse’s mouth itself is a different thing altogether.
“All right then, I wish you ladies and gents the best of luck.”
Murakami proceeds to shake each of their hands before walking out.
And soon, he can hear the emcee talking and he knows it’s almost time.
But the moment the emcee starts talking, Yasuda notices the man next to him starts to tremble slightly. He places his hands on the man’s shoulder and squeezes it lightly.
“Hey, it’s going to be all right.”
The man looks up at him, surprise written all over his face.
“T… Thanks… Erm…”
“Yasuda. But you can call me Yasu.”
“Thanks Yasu-san. I’m Uchi.”
“No problem, Uchi.”
Ryo stares at the glass he’s holding, as if willing it to explode. The event has just started and he’s already drunk. His manager will sure be proud of him.
“Hey there.”
A woman barely in her twenties wearing a low cut dress and thick makeup, approaches him in what she thinks is a seductive manner. But it just looks stupid to him.
“You’re Nishikido Ryo aren’t you?”
Ryo ignores her, preferring to stare at his drink rather than her huge breasts that’s right under his nose.
The woman still doesn’t give up - they always don’t -, snaking her arm around him, trailing airy kisses down his neck. The Nishikido Ryo from a year ago will have taken up on that offer, but he’s gotten sick of them; the way they laugh at everything he says even when he’s not remotely funny, the way they try to show that they love him when all they love is his status and his money; they’re all fake. He needs someone real, someone who who’s not afraid to say how bad his music is, someone who doesn’t kiss his ass to get what they want, he needs someone like… Uchi.
Too bad he’s gone. And it’s already been a year.
“Why so quiet, Nishikido-san?”
“Get away.”
He doesn’t hold back, and he feels the woman freeze for a moment before she pulls back, staring at him with an affronted expression.
“You’re an asshole.”
And with that, she turns around and walks off in a huff.
“I’m glad you didn’t go off with her.”
Ryo looks up to see the bartender smiling down at him.
“She’s a gold-digger, that one,” the bartender continues.
Ryo nods absentmindedly as he places the glass on the countertop.
“Another one, please.”
With another bright smile, the bartender takes the bottle of gin off the rack and pours.
“How can you keep smiling like that?” Ryo asks as he drowns back the drink.
The bartender immediately refills it.
“I want everyone to be happy so I smile. It’s as simple as that.”
“Heh…”
“I’m Maruyama by the way. But everyone calls me Maru.”
“Nishikido.”
The bartender nods.
“Nishikido-san’s a lonely person, isn’t he?”
“Eh?”
“You’re supposed to be popular but yet you seem so alone.”
“Well, it’s none of your business.”
Unfazed, Maru continues.
“You miss someone don’t you?”
Ryo stares at him disbelievingly.
“If you miss someone, you better try your hardest to find that person. You’ll only suffer otherwise.”
“What if I can’t?”
Maru looks sympathetically into Ryo’s eyes.
“Then it’s fate. You’re not meant to be together.”
“Fate, huh.”
Ohkura carefully balances the round silver tray in his right palm as he manoeuvres through the crowd. He’d gotten into trouble with the manager already after dropping five trays but who won’t when their mind is off in warm, sunny Hawaii instead of a stuffy art gallery?
“Shrimp, sir?” he asks ever so professionally.
The man stares at him, and Ohkura has to take a step back from his intense gaze.
“No, thanks.”
Ohkura nods and quickly gets out of the man’s way. Judging by the way he’s dressed - torn jeans, huge t-shirt and a beanie - Ohkura thinks that he must be a homeless or a street beggar or something of that sort who have snuck in. But he shrugs it off. It’s not his problem anyway.
He heads towards the bar, planning to chat with Maru for a while but when he sees him talking to a patron, he obediently heads back to the kitchen.
In five hours, he’s off to Hawaii.
“…And that’s how he got the bruise,” Maruyama finishes as he laughs to himself.
Ryo smiles weakly. Somehow that sombre talk they had turns into Maru telling him interesting tales about his family and his friends. They’re funny and Ryo appreciates that this total stranger is trying to cheer him up, but he doesn’t have enough energy left to laugh.
“Want another glass?”
Maru points at his empty glass and he shakes his head. He’s about to launch into another story when he spots a man walking towards the bar - Ryo recognizes him as that guy who’s always following the organizer around - and approaches him.
“Scotch, please.”
“Coming up.”
The man takes a seat away from Ryo as Maru places a glass in front of him.
“Not joining the party?”
It takes a while for Ryo to realize the man’s talking to him.
“It’s hardly a party.”
The man grunts as he sips his drink.
“What about you?”
“Don’t like crowds.”
“Fair enough.”
Maru’s staying a distance from them to give them more privacy and for that, he’s thankful. At least he’s spared from Maru’s stories for the time being. In the background, the emcee is introducing the next musician and Ryo’s about to tune out when he hears the name.
Uchi Hiroki.
Immediately, he spins his head around for a better look and sure enough, he sees Uchi standing there, as beautiful as ever.
“You know that guy?”
“Ye…yeah.”
At least he used to.
He can’t believe that it’s actually happening. It’s Uchi. And he’s holding a guitar, and apparently, he’s about to sing. And Ryo doesn’t understand anything anymore because as far as he knows, Uchi doesn’t sing or play. Uchi only knows how to criticize.
But there he is, strumming out the opening strains of a song that’s familiar to him.
On that freezing rainy night three years ago
I plucked a guitar on the street corner, a sad love song
Her eyes were watery at that song, somehow that’s dear to me
I just wanted her to smile, I fell in love
He smiles bitterly when he hears it. He hasn’t released that song in any of his CDs; it’s special to him. It’s a song that he shares with Uchi and no one else. He’s kind of hurt that Uchi is playing their song to a bunch of strangers until he remembers that it’s not ‘their’ song. There has never been a ‘their’ or ‘we’ in their relationship; he’d been too much of a coward to make it that way.
Uchi sings it in a way better that he ever will. He likes how those long slim fingers glide over the strings, the same way that his smooth voice glides over the words; it’s enchanting.
It ends too soon and just like that, Ryo is thrown back into reality.
“Uchi.”
“Go to him. It’s your chance.”
Ryo turns to see the bartender smiling kindly at him. The man sitting next to him nods his head vigorously, although he’s sure that it’s due more to the fact that he’s on his fifth glass rather than him agreeing with the bartender.
“How did you-”
“It’s obvious by the look of your face. Now go. Catch him before he disappears again.”
“Go on, kiddo!”
Ryo ignores the drunken man and shifts his attention back to the stage. Uchi’s already gone. He stands up, panicking for a while before he notices Uchi heading towards the door.
And he’s off running. He’s lucky because there aren’t any people in his way - they are all gathered at the opposite direction - but still, it feels so difficult for him to get to Uchi.
“Uchi!”
He calls out, making sure it’s loud enough, but Uchi seems not to hear him. Uchi continues walking and when he goes out the glass door, Ryo breaks out into a sprint. He doesn’t want to lose Uchi again. This is his chance to make things right.
A sudden gust of cold air hits him the moment he steps out but he’s not bothered by it. He looks to his left. There’s nothing but a brick wall staring at him a few meters away. When he looks to his right however, he sees Uchi, hands in his coat pockets, a guitar case slung over his right shoulder, walking away slowly.
“Uchi.”
This time, Uchi hears him. He knows it for sure because there’s a pause in Uchi’s step before he turns around. It takes a while but Uchi finally recognizes him.
“Ryo?”
There’s enough light in the alley for Ryo to see the myriad of expressions on Uchi’s face. It’s a mixture of confusion and hope and worry all rolled into one. Ryo knows that the same expression is on his face too.
Slowly, he approaches Uchi who still hasn’t moved.
“Hey.”
Uchi doesn’t respond, only staring at him like he’s some sort of strange specimen. Ryo is closer to Uchi now, so close that he can hear Uchi’s breathing mixing with the sound of his own.
“How are you doing?”
There’s still no response. Ryo sighs, not knowing where to begin.
“Listen, uhm… I’m -“
“Are you going to tell me that you’re sorry and that you want to get back together with me?”
Uchi’s tone is sharp and it cuts right through him. He moves back a step.
“Yes.”
He looks directly into Uchi’s eyes as he says it because this is what he wants. And he wants Uchi to know that he’s not lying. But instead of answering him, Uchi starts to laugh. It sounds too fake and too cynical and Ryo doesn’t like it one bit. He buries both his hands into the pockets of his trousers, fiddling with the contents inside.
“You’re a selfish bastard, you know that. Every single thing is about you. The moment you got bored of me, you left me behind just like that. And now that you want me back you expect me to say yes.”
Ryo’s eyes go wide as he stares up at Uchi.
“What if I’ve moved on Ryo? What if I have someone waiting for me at home? What will you do then? Drag me back?”
“Have you?”
“What?”
“Moved on?”
“Yes.”
Ryo chuckles because he knows that Uchi’s lying. He always has that little twitch in his left eye when he lies.
“Come back, Uchi.”
Ryo reaches out and takes hold of Uchi’s hand. He’s glad that Uchi doesn’t pull back. Ryo looks up and sees a pair of uncertain eyes looking at him.
“I’ll make it right this time, I promise. It’ll be okay.”
And he knows it will when Uchi bends down and kisses him softly.
“Yasuda-san, it’s your turn next so please get ready.”
Yasuda nods as he stands up, every pair of eyes in the room has their attention on him.
“Good luck.”
“All the best.”
He smiles at the well-wishers and walks out of the holding area, trying to contain his nervousness. He can hear applause and the next thing he knows, the emcee’s announcing his name. The light dims the moment he starts walking up the stage. As corny as it sounds, it’s show time.
Subaru watches in interest as the short man in his mid-twenties goes up the stage, a bright smile spread across his face. With his loud attire, not only does he stand out from the sea of black and white, it also shows that he dares to be different. And a musician who dares to be different usually produces something that is unique. He knows that by experience.
Even though Subaru’s a salaryman, he’s a musician at heart. He’s been to enough concerts and festivals to be able to place a good bet, and he bets on this Yasuda Shota.
The lyrics are decent; the melody unique, but Subaru finds himself to be captivated more by the man himself rather than his music. He likes the way he carries himself, the way his eyes light up; there’s a strength hidden behind that cutie-pie exterior, and it makes his body tingle all over.
He doesn’t realize it’s over until the people around him start clapping. He claps along, his gaze never leaving Yasuda as he walks off the stage. Subaru’s about to approach him when a few important-looking people crowds around him, giving him fake smiles that he always sees when record companies have spotted their prey, and so he retreats back to the crowd, waiting for the next performance to start.
A tap makes Subaru turns around.
“Hi.”
Subaru blinks, making sure that it really is Yasuda standing in front of him with that megawatt smile of his.
“Hey.”
“I’m glad to see you again. I was afraid that I got the wrong person but it is you.”
“Excuse me?”
Subaru blinks in confusion as Yasuda drags him to a table located at the quiet corner of the gallery.
“Well, it’s because of you that I’m able to write that song!”
Subaru still doesn’t understand but Yasuda doesn’t seem to notice as he digs around his pocket.
“Here,” he says, shoving something into his face.
Subaru has to tilt his back a bit to focus and when he does, he realizes that it’s the same pair of crumpled and torn tickets he’d left at the café.
“How?”
“I was there. I saw you that day and that’s why I was able to write the song. Because of you.”
Subaru nods absentmindedly. He still doesn’t know what Yasuda’s talking about but he likes the way the man speaks. It’s fast and the words he uses are weird and jumbled up but he likes the passion in them.
“Want to grab a cup of coffee?”
“Huh?”
“Seeing that it’s partly because of you that I got tons of offers, I think that it’s only fair for me to repay you.”
Subaru’s mind snaps to attention at the word ‘repay’ because he knows there are many ways Yasuda can repay him.
“Sure, why not?”
Shingo heaves a sigh as the last of the catering staff take their leave. He staggers over to the stage and sits next to Yoko who’s handing him a bottle of beer. He gladly accepts it.
“Thanks.”
“So… it turned out well.”
“I told you, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Where’s Subaru?”
“He went off with that Yasuda kid.”
“That blonde with the overall?”
“Yeah.”
“Good for him.”
Sipping their drinks slowly, they sit in comfortable silence.
“I met someone today,” Shingo speaks out.
“You meet people everyday, Hina.”
“No, I meant, someone someone.”
Finally understanding what’s Shingo’s on about, Yoko’s mouth opens into a slight ‘o’.
“Is she hot? Does she have big boobs?”
“She’s beautiful.”
Yoko raises his eyebrows because to them, beautiful ranks more than hot.
“Got her number?”
“Yeap.”
Shingo digs into his suit pocket and produces a small paper. Yoko reads the name that’s written.
“Toda Erika. Isn’t she an actress?”
“She is?”
“She is.”
Yoko grins and pats his friend’s back.
“You totally scored this time.”
“Shut up.”
“So when are you meeting her?”
“The fourth.”
“Nice.”
Yoko is sure that it’s the alcohol that’s making him suddenly feel all nostalgic and sappy, because Yoko knows he doesn’t usually do sappy.
“Hey, Hina.”
“Yeah?”
Thank you.”
“What for?”
“For being a great friend.”
“And a great boss,” he adds as an afterthought.
“Yoko?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re a great friend too.”
And at that moment, the sound of fireworks coming from somewhere outside can be heard as the clock strikes twelve.
“Happy New Year.”
“Happy New Year, Yoko.”
New Year’s Day
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“What? The sunrise?”
“Yeah.”
“Going to write a song about it?”
“Maybe.”
Subaru chuckles. Yasuda is such an idealist, he learns. Only an idealist will look at a sunrise with an awestruck expression, thinking that he’ll write a song about it.
“Hey, I was thinking…”
Yasuda shifts his attention to him, a captivating smile still on his face.
“I don’t have anyone else to give this ticket to so… uhm…”
Subaru takes out the tickets Yasuda had returned to him out of his pocket.
“Why don’t you join me? It’ll be a waste if I throw it away.”
Yasuda looks at the tickets in his hands and looks up at him again, contemplating as his face scrunches into a frown. Subaru doesn’t know he’s holding his breath until Yasuda breaks into a smile again.
“Sure.”
And Subaru can’t help but to smile as well; the first genuine smile he’s given in months.
As they continue to watch the sun rising in that quiet diner, legs almost brushing past each other under the table, hands so close that it’ll take only a little effort for them to be intertwined; he thinks Yasuda is good for him. He likes this, and judging by the way Yasuda is placing his right hand over his, Subaru knows that he likes it too.
It’s a great way to start the new year.
"Aloha~"
Ohkura exclaims as he walks out of the airport, a suitcase and a rather amused Maru in tow.
"Should we eat first?"
Maru nods enthusiastically as he joins Ohkura loading their baggage into a cab which had just pulled up. It takes a while for them to settle down and to finally make the cab driver understand where they want to go but when they finally do, Ohkura speaks up.
"Did you know that it's still the first of January?"
"It is?"
"It is."
"Well then, we need to celebrate now don't we?"
"By stuffing ourselves with food?"
"Yeap."
A few hours later after stuffing themselves to the brink and drinking until they're senseless, the two stumbles into the balcony of their hotel room, drunk and satisfied.
"Thanks Maru. For everything."
"It's worth it because you're a great friend."
They're only saying this since they're drunk and they'll forget it come morning anyway but just for that moment, just as the sun is setting in the horizon, they let their heart out.
"Happy New Year, Maru."
"Happy New Year to you too."