It's taken long enough -_-;;
I'm trying not to think about how long ago the last chapter was, however I swear on my *pnish* DVD collection that the next chapter will be written faster. Considering how this chapter ends, you're all going to be very grateful... ^_^;;
Title: Nile Blue chapter 28!
Rating: PG
Summary: This is another bitty chapter that serves mainly to move things forward until... well, interesting stuff happens. That's a terribly summary isn't it? Okay, Kime flounces, Eiji shaves his legs, and the final interview before opening night is about to take place.
Author's Notes: I intended to get this chapter done before I went to Japan, obviously that didn't happen... and my honest opinion of most of this chapter is that it'll do, there's some nice bits in it, but it's not outstanding >_<;
Ignoring the discrete snap that followed him as he moved, Tuti turned away from Kimeru and said wearily, ‘You must do what you feel is best, Asru.’
In the otherwise silent hall, he could easily hear the sharp intake of breath from Kimeru behind him. ‘You mean that?’ he asked, voice pitched a little higher than normal, audibly trembling with a variety of barely suppressed emotions. ‘I’m telling you I’m leaving and that’s all you can say?’
‘You’re a free woman,’ Tuti reminded the other actor despite the fact that of course he wasn’t; it had been illuminating hearing Ueshima-san explain that to a journalist earlier.
‘You don’t care what people might say?’
‘It can hardly be worse than what they’re already saying. But that’s irrelevant, isn’t it. You’re not happy, Asru, I won’t force you to stay with me just for appearances,’ Tuti injected as much distaste into the last word as he could and continued to stare off into the middle-distance, ignoring the journalist sat on the nearby piano stool, with his pencil poised over his notebook.
Asru, or Kimeru, or whatever name he was supposed to be reacting to, didn’t answer verbally but Tuti knew he was staring at him, knew that he’d stay there frozen to the spot for exactly eight seconds before turning and walking off stage and that just as Kimeru exited, with his head bowed, Takashi would enter from the opposite side. Tuti didn’t need to look round and watch all this happen to know when the scene was over just as he didn’t need Ueshima-san to tell them to relax because the tense silence that had held the other occupants of the hall suddenly broke like everyone had been holding their breath.
Tuti walked off the part of the hall marked out as the “stage” and was immediately seized on by the journalist and his notebook, and the wardrobe mistress and her tape measure. While the fussing woman passed comment on the size of his calves, how the point of his kilt needed re-starching and exactly what she thought of him for forgetting to wear plain white underwear that morning, the journalist began asking questions. They were not, it had to be said, very exciting questions. Interested more in sorting out the actor’s back-story rather than the character’s, the journalist peppered Tuti with questions about where he’d grown up, how long he’d wanted to be an actor and how nervous he was about this role. They were questions Tuti could answer in his sleep, and the fact that he’d told three other people almost exactly the same thing so far that morning not to mention that he’d repeated it seven times yesterday, only made the process more sleep-inducing.
This was the second day they’d had of interviews and observations. Tuti had been required to spend all his free time yesterday afternoon in Kato-san’s “office” on the phone to different people giving them the answers they wanted to hear. Sometimes Takashi had been in there with him, his answers mirroring but never imitating Tuti’s own as they carried on their own private conversation by way of sign language and facial expressions. Takashi had turned out to be surprisingly adept at silently conveying a detailed picture to Tuti of exactly what the two of them could do in the lockable room if it weren’t for the telephone interviews they had to give. It had meant Takashi was responsible for the fact that Tuti’s answer to one question had consisted of a lot of stuttering and an embarrassed pause as the voice on the other end had asked if he’d really meant to say what he’d just said aloud.
‘Ah Nagayama-san!’ the journalist broke off mid-question to pull the passing actor into their conversation. ‘I understand that rehearsals for this production have been somewhat longer than is usual, has this helped your collaboration with Tsuchiya-san develop?’
Takashi, all polite smiles and perfectly arranged hair (Tuti was well aware that he did not look anywhere near as tidy), answered evenly, ‘Tsuchiya-san and I work very well together and the extra rehearsals have definitely helped. I’ve learnt that nothing about this production is exactly normal.’
‘This is your first stage performance, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, it’s been a great new experience for me both working with a choreographer like Ueshima-san, and collaborating with Tsuchiya-san and the other actors.’
Tuti shifted from one foot to the other in his very-authentic-looking, not-so-ancient Egyptian-style sandals, listening as Takashi eloquently expounded on the talents of his colleagues. It was a little weird hearing Takashi talk about him in such a disconnected way, calling him “Tsuchiya-san” as though they were nothing but passing acquaintances, but he had to pay attention to the conversation because every so often the journalist (who looked like he was pretty new to the job given his wide-eyed enthusiasm) turned on him and asked for his opinion.
After ten minutes of this though, there were only so many times Tuti could hear the young man ask breathlessly, ‘and you, Tsuchiya-san?’ before he wanted to smack some sense into him. Tuti knew he could be fairly oblivious to some things but the blatant hero-worship in the journalist’s face every time he looked at Takashi was getting a little much. But he had to endure it because after all this was as much a part of putting on a production as the rehearsals and not giving the journalist his full attention would only lead to problems with Ueshima even if with no one else.
Even knowing this though couldn’t stop Tuti’s distracted gaze from being caught by the photographer on the other side of the room who for some reason had decided to dissemble his equipment and was now putting it back together again. A few more minutes of polite tedium dragged on before Ueshima-san took charge again, pulling them into the next scene and dismissing the content intruders to the sidelines for a run-through of a segment of the play that couldn’t last forever because lunch was now so close Tuti’s stomach kept growling uncomfortably at both him and anyone who happened to be nearby.
None of it though, not the watchers or the frowning choreographer or the other actors could stop Takashi from flashing a sparkling grin at Tuti from across the room. It lasted all of three seconds, vanishing when Takashi slipped back into being Khnumhotep again, but Tuti had seen it and it went some way towards silencing the nerves that could be as loud as his stomach, at least until lunchtime.
***
‘Well if you ask me,’ Kime continued with his mouth full and his headdress askew, ‘I think there should be three.’
‘I’d have thought you’d rather there were less?’ Tuti’s mouth was equally full and unlike Kime he had another handful of food hovering under his nose, but he still paused to ask the question all the same.
Kime gave a shrug, the gesture appearing very strange when it caused the t-shirt he’d pulled on over the top of his costume to rise up almost enough to meet the ends of his fluffy, unbrushed hair. ‘But how often are people going to get to see actors wearing authentic Egyptian costume?’
‘I’m just glad it isn’t any more authentic,’ interrupted Eiji thickly. ‘Solid gold jewellery and a wig that weighs half as much as I do? No thanks.’
‘You’re not the only one who’s relieved - you know the slaves usually went around naked right?’
‘Slaves and children,’ Tuti corrected Takashi before he could stop himself.
‘Exactly,’ Takashi swallowed a mouthful of his coffee before continuing. ‘Can you imagine what they’d be writing if I had to wander round the stage naked for most of the performance?’
‘That Nile Blue is not for the fainthearted and mature audiences only should buy tickets?’ suggested Kime with a perfectly composed face, or as composed as anyone could look with a smudge of food on the end of their nose.
‘I was going to say we’d be getting a health warning,’ was Eiji's offering on the subject. ‘Something official from the government saying that pregnant women and people with heart conditions should consult their doctors first before viewing.’
‘Thanks,’ Takashi turned a withering look on Eiji who was paying far too much attention to what was left of his lunch to notice.
Tuti stayed silent in the knowledge that if he gave his imagination half a chance it would latch onto the idea of Takashi dancing naked on stage and not allow him to think about anything else all afternoon. He had a good excuse anyway, there were more people waiting to talk to them and it wasn’t just himself and Takashi that were to be interrogated this time, they all had to finish their food as quickly as they could so that they could be available for questioning and this made any kind of conversation amongst the actors a rationed luxury.
Kime sucked at the tips of his fingers on one hand while the other brushed some invisible crumbs off his own chest, ‘Well our costumes are still more authentic than what you usually see in films and documentaries, so why shouldn’t they make the most of that and include three pictures of us in costume in the pamphlet rather than just two?’
‘And I still think our audience is going to see plenty of us in costume,’ persisted Eiji. ‘There’re our individual pages in the pamphlet and most of the pictures from rehearsals will have us in kilts and stuff, then there’s the photosets and not to mention the behind-the-scenes footage for the DVD that was being filmed last week and all of this without including the actual performance… just what are you worried about Kime? That no one will fully appreciate how good you look in a dress?’
‘You can’t talk, Pharaoh-kun, not when you shaved your legs last night,’ Kime jumped to his feet as he spoke and gave Eiji a fluttery wave over his shoulder as he sauntered off towards the cluster of guests who were currently talking to Kato.
Eiji opened and closed his mouth once before telling Tuti and Takashi very emphatically, ‘I was told to shave them by Ueshima-san, it’s not like I make a habit of it.’
***
Wedged into a corner by the uncomfortable crush of too many people in too small a space, Tuti’s head nodded in time to the swaying, rattling train that was carrying him through the February evening darkness to his apartment and the very welcome thought of bed. His day was finally over, all questions dismissed for now so that all he had to think about was the way his muscles ached and how many tasks he could eliminate from his evening routine so that he could fall into bed that much quicker.
Tuti had been working under the impression that the morning’s rehearsals had been frantic but it was an idea he’d quickly lost once the afternoon had got underway. They’d been pushed through scene after scene repeatedly, fine-tuning actions and clarifying instructions while all the time being reminded that tomorrow things would be changing, tomorrow they’d be rehearsing on the theatre’s stage for the first time.
Part of Tuti was looking forward to it, it would mean a change of pace and require a different kind of focus as previously ignored aspects of the production such as the staging and lights were brought in to make their own contributions. He’d watched Hirofumi-san have a long and very involved conversation with some of the technical people earlier and they’d all been gesticulating so much that they might as well have been communicating by semaphore. The half-made props he’d become used to were being replaced by the finished items, passing one room from which the smell of paint was crawling out of had given him a glimpse of whitewashed mud-brick houses and everyone had had their heads re-measured to make sure they would still fit the wigs they’d been fitted for at the production’s start.
But the bustle and busyness hadn’t yet been able to completely overwhelm that unshakable element of fear or silence the nagging voice in the back of his head that reminded him that this was another part of the countdown to the opening night and the end of Nile Blue. The transition from rehearsal hall to open stage meant Tuti only had five days left to savour the things he’d grown to love about this show before everything around him changed again.
At least here and now, when exhaustion and the nagging presence of suited commuters with their briefcases and newspapers could distract him, Tuti couldn’t find the space in his head to feel nervous. Head hitting the cool window behind him with a thunk that no one could have heard and he wasn’t awake enough to feel, Tuti shut his eyes on the artificial lights and thought about cosy things like his soft bed, warm baths and the dinner with Takashi he’d managed to stay awake for.
***
Kicking his shoes off his feet and out of sight under a discarded bag, Takashi called out ‘I’m home,’ more from habit than because he expected anyone to answer from the depths of the half-lit apartment.
‘You’re early, did Tuti not fancy any dessert?’ hand-toweling his hair and wearing the baggiest t-shirt in existence, Kime was lounging on the couch and looking irritatingly awake as Takashi crashed onto the cushions next to him.
‘We had to call it a night,’ Takashi yawned. ‘I’m exhausted and he isn’t any better.’
Kime reached for the TV remote rather than bother answering directly. Only once they were being greeted by cheery presenters on some game show whose current contestant was three times wider than Kime, did he pass comment. ‘It’s nice that you two try and make some time for each other even when we’re pushed like this.’
‘It’s not time that’s the problem,’ Takashi stretched his arms over his head, feeling joints pop and muscles protest before he relaxed again like a deflated balloon. ‘It’s energy… I swear Tuti was going to fall asleep nose-first into his plate while we were eating.’
With a chuckle Takashi chose to ignore, Kime flicked through a few more channels. ‘Not long now, Lover Boy, then you can have the messy-haired man of your dreams all to yourself. Just remember to get through the performances first, okay?’
‘Rehearsals and interviews first.’
‘There many left to do?’
‘Interviews you mean?’ Takashi had let his eyes close while Kime channel-surfed and he didn’t bother to open them now when the sounds coming from the TV promised only emotion-ridden dramas and cheery adverts. ‘One or two. The last isn’t till the day after tomorrow, then I’ll be able to relax and focus on the show. And it’s about time too cause -’ breaking off to yawn, Takashi gave another stretch and fell silent, knowing that Kime didn’t care whether he finished the thought or not.
***
‘Give me a chance,’ Tuti’s fingers squeezed tighter round Takashi’s wrist. ‘Please. I’m not going to swear I’ll get it right but… just one chance?’
The expression on Takashi’s face softened from one of suspicion to something betraying how much he wanted to believe Tuti’s earnest statement. ‘You mean that?’ he didn’t sound fully convinced, but maybe he wanted to be…
Tuti rose up off the couch he’d been sitting on, the movement fluid and easy as he maintained his hold on Takashi’s wrist. Only once he was on his feet, with Takashi looking up at him half wary, half hopeful, did he answer with careful measured words. ‘Let me prove it to you.’
‘Okay we’ll leave it there,’ Hirofumi-san clapped his hands together and Tuti obediently released Takashi’s wrist, but not before he’d been smiled at by the other actor. ‘Tsuchiya, Nagayama, Yamada-san is waiting for you in room seven - don’t let her talk to you for more than forty minutes, I want you both back promptly so that we can move on with act three, I’m still not happy with those lighting cues. Everyone else, lunch.’ With a dismissive wave of his hands that sent the rest of the cast scattering in different directions off the stage, the solidly-built director scooped up his annotated copy of the script and strode off to find someone else to give orders to.
‘Come on, lets get this over and done with,’ Tuti gave Takashi a grin as they left the stage together, the stairs that led down to the warren of corridors and dressing rooms beneath yawning wide in front of them.
‘Want to try and go out for dinner again tonight?’ was Takashi’s question as he paused to pull one of the blue production t-shirts over his head. ‘I know we’ll be tired but…’ he trailed off and gave Tuti a smile that Tuti wanted to believe was hopeful and suggestive even if they both knew that an afternoon being wrung out by their director would leave them both fit for little but sleep. It was frustrating that their time together was so curtailed and limited, or it would be if Tuti were capable of thinking of anything but the looming performances. Quite what Takashi thought about it, Tuti hadn’t ventured to ask but then again Takashi seemed to understand without him having to explain that he always got like this in the run up to opening night. In a perverse way, Tuti was used to the unsettling dreams about on-stage disasters and slip-ups that derailed the whole show, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed them.
‘This should be it.’ Takashi nudged Tuti free from his preoccupation and asked, ‘Ready?’
‘Guess so, just glad it’s the last -’ Tuti began but the end of his sentence was lost in a cheerful exclamation from inside the room he was now in the doorway of.
‘Long time no see Takashi!’
‘Eiko?!’
Inside room seven the petite, suited female who was waiting for them with her notebook and Dictaphone beamed straight past Tuti, the expression breaking into a laugh when Takashi moved suddenly forward and half-smothered her in a tight hug.
Tuti shut the door as two excited voices cried loud questions, every other word separated with yet another laugh and tried to ignore the way Takashi still had his hands on the woman’s arms. Wishing briefly for some pockets in his kilt that he could shove his hands into, Tuti made do with running his fingers through his hair and scratching at his cheek before finally giving in to the urge to say, ‘You two know each other already then?’
The question prompted Takashi to spin round, only now letting go of the reporter who was supposed to be interviewing them not groping them.
‘Eiko this is Tuti - Tsuchiya Yuuichi, I should say. Tuti, this is Yamada Eiko, she and I…’ Takashi broke off to laugh again, the sound grating briefly on Tuti’s abused ears. ‘We haven’t spoken for a while,’ he finished eventually.
‘Six years being “a while” in Takashi’s book,’ Yamada-san smiled wider, first at Tuti and then back at Takashi.
Takashi returned the grin with one of his own that looked irritatingly familiar to Tuti who had grown used to thinking of it as his. ‘Eiko and I used to live just round the block from each other when we were growing up,’ continued Takashi’s unnecessary explanation when Tuti didn’t immediately make the polite enquiries that they were probably expecting him to, but then seeing as his brain seemed to have become frozen trying to string words together seemed like a bad idea.
‘Attended the same schools unfortunately,’ nodded Yamada-san in happy agreement.
Takashi laughed yet again, ‘Yeah, it still bothers my mother that I never married you.’
‘Well what do you expect?’ Yamada-san’s attention was focused squarely back on Takashi again without even a flicker of a look in Tuti’s direction.
‘You going to tell your parents that you’ve seen me?’
‘I’ll be kicked out if I didn’t!’ cried the woman with her peculiar laugh before giving Tuti a smile that looked almost smug. ‘I’m sorry Tsuchiya-san, you must know what parents can be like, they form these ideas and expectations of their kids when you’re little and even when you’re twenty eight their ideas still pop up for the stupidest of reasons, like when you happen to meet up with your old high school sweetheart for example.’
Tuti felt his jaw lock; well that explained that then.
TBC
Title: Nile Blue chapter 28!
Rating: PG
Summary: This is another bitty chapter that serves mainly to move things forward until... well, interesting stuff happens. That's a terribly summary isn't it? Okay, Kime flounces, Eiji shaves his legs, and the final interview before opening night is about to take place.
Author's Notes: I intended to get this chapter done before I went to Japan, obviously that didn't happen... and my honest opinion of most of this chapter is that it'll do, there's some nice bits in it, but it's not outstanding >_<;
Ignoring the discrete snap that followed him as he moved, Tuti turned away from Kimeru and said wearily, ‘You must do what you feel is best, Asru.’
In the otherwise silent hall, he could easily hear the sharp intake of breath from Kimeru behind him. ‘You mean that?’ he asked, voice pitched a little higher than normal, audibly trembling with a variety of barely suppressed emotions. ‘I’m telling you I’m leaving and that’s all you can say?’
‘You’re a free woman,’ Tuti reminded the other actor despite the fact that of course he wasn’t; it had been illuminating hearing Ueshima-san explain that to a journalist earlier.
‘You don’t care what people might say?’
‘It can hardly be worse than what they’re already saying. But that’s irrelevant, isn’t it. You’re not happy, Asru, I won’t force you to stay with me just for appearances,’ Tuti injected as much distaste into the last word as he could and continued to stare off into the middle-distance, ignoring the journalist sat on the nearby piano stool, with his pencil poised over his notebook.
Asru, or Kimeru, or whatever name he was supposed to be reacting to, didn’t answer verbally but Tuti knew he was staring at him, knew that he’d stay there frozen to the spot for exactly eight seconds before turning and walking off stage and that just as Kimeru exited, with his head bowed, Takashi would enter from the opposite side. Tuti didn’t need to look round and watch all this happen to know when the scene was over just as he didn’t need Ueshima-san to tell them to relax because the tense silence that had held the other occupants of the hall suddenly broke like everyone had been holding their breath.
Tuti walked off the part of the hall marked out as the “stage” and was immediately seized on by the journalist and his notebook, and the wardrobe mistress and her tape measure. While the fussing woman passed comment on the size of his calves, how the point of his kilt needed re-starching and exactly what she thought of him for forgetting to wear plain white underwear that morning, the journalist began asking questions. They were not, it had to be said, very exciting questions. Interested more in sorting out the actor’s back-story rather than the character’s, the journalist peppered Tuti with questions about where he’d grown up, how long he’d wanted to be an actor and how nervous he was about this role. They were questions Tuti could answer in his sleep, and the fact that he’d told three other people almost exactly the same thing so far that morning not to mention that he’d repeated it seven times yesterday, only made the process more sleep-inducing.
This was the second day they’d had of interviews and observations. Tuti had been required to spend all his free time yesterday afternoon in Kato-san’s “office” on the phone to different people giving them the answers they wanted to hear. Sometimes Takashi had been in there with him, his answers mirroring but never imitating Tuti’s own as they carried on their own private conversation by way of sign language and facial expressions. Takashi had turned out to be surprisingly adept at silently conveying a detailed picture to Tuti of exactly what the two of them could do in the lockable room if it weren’t for the telephone interviews they had to give. It had meant Takashi was responsible for the fact that Tuti’s answer to one question had consisted of a lot of stuttering and an embarrassed pause as the voice on the other end had asked if he’d really meant to say what he’d just said aloud.
‘Ah Nagayama-san!’ the journalist broke off mid-question to pull the passing actor into their conversation. ‘I understand that rehearsals for this production have been somewhat longer than is usual, has this helped your collaboration with Tsuchiya-san develop?’
Takashi, all polite smiles and perfectly arranged hair (Tuti was well aware that he did not look anywhere near as tidy), answered evenly, ‘Tsuchiya-san and I work very well together and the extra rehearsals have definitely helped. I’ve learnt that nothing about this production is exactly normal.’
‘This is your first stage performance, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, it’s been a great new experience for me both working with a choreographer like Ueshima-san, and collaborating with Tsuchiya-san and the other actors.’
Tuti shifted from one foot to the other in his very-authentic-looking, not-so-ancient Egyptian-style sandals, listening as Takashi eloquently expounded on the talents of his colleagues. It was a little weird hearing Takashi talk about him in such a disconnected way, calling him “Tsuchiya-san” as though they were nothing but passing acquaintances, but he had to pay attention to the conversation because every so often the journalist (who looked like he was pretty new to the job given his wide-eyed enthusiasm) turned on him and asked for his opinion.
After ten minutes of this though, there were only so many times Tuti could hear the young man ask breathlessly, ‘and you, Tsuchiya-san?’ before he wanted to smack some sense into him. Tuti knew he could be fairly oblivious to some things but the blatant hero-worship in the journalist’s face every time he looked at Takashi was getting a little much. But he had to endure it because after all this was as much a part of putting on a production as the rehearsals and not giving the journalist his full attention would only lead to problems with Ueshima even if with no one else.
Even knowing this though couldn’t stop Tuti’s distracted gaze from being caught by the photographer on the other side of the room who for some reason had decided to dissemble his equipment and was now putting it back together again. A few more minutes of polite tedium dragged on before Ueshima-san took charge again, pulling them into the next scene and dismissing the content intruders to the sidelines for a run-through of a segment of the play that couldn’t last forever because lunch was now so close Tuti’s stomach kept growling uncomfortably at both him and anyone who happened to be nearby.
None of it though, not the watchers or the frowning choreographer or the other actors could stop Takashi from flashing a sparkling grin at Tuti from across the room. It lasted all of three seconds, vanishing when Takashi slipped back into being Khnumhotep again, but Tuti had seen it and it went some way towards silencing the nerves that could be as loud as his stomach, at least until lunchtime.
***
‘Well if you ask me,’ Kime continued with his mouth full and his headdress askew, ‘I think there should be three.’
‘I’d have thought you’d rather there were less?’ Tuti’s mouth was equally full and unlike Kime he had another handful of food hovering under his nose, but he still paused to ask the question all the same.
Kime gave a shrug, the gesture appearing very strange when it caused the t-shirt he’d pulled on over the top of his costume to rise up almost enough to meet the ends of his fluffy, unbrushed hair. ‘But how often are people going to get to see actors wearing authentic Egyptian costume?’
‘I’m just glad it isn’t any more authentic,’ interrupted Eiji thickly. ‘Solid gold jewellery and a wig that weighs half as much as I do? No thanks.’
‘You’re not the only one who’s relieved - you know the slaves usually went around naked right?’
‘Slaves and children,’ Tuti corrected Takashi before he could stop himself.
‘Exactly,’ Takashi swallowed a mouthful of his coffee before continuing. ‘Can you imagine what they’d be writing if I had to wander round the stage naked for most of the performance?’
‘That Nile Blue is not for the fainthearted and mature audiences only should buy tickets?’ suggested Kime with a perfectly composed face, or as composed as anyone could look with a smudge of food on the end of their nose.
‘I was going to say we’d be getting a health warning,’ was Eiji's offering on the subject. ‘Something official from the government saying that pregnant women and people with heart conditions should consult their doctors first before viewing.’
‘Thanks,’ Takashi turned a withering look on Eiji who was paying far too much attention to what was left of his lunch to notice.
Tuti stayed silent in the knowledge that if he gave his imagination half a chance it would latch onto the idea of Takashi dancing naked on stage and not allow him to think about anything else all afternoon. He had a good excuse anyway, there were more people waiting to talk to them and it wasn’t just himself and Takashi that were to be interrogated this time, they all had to finish their food as quickly as they could so that they could be available for questioning and this made any kind of conversation amongst the actors a rationed luxury.
Kime sucked at the tips of his fingers on one hand while the other brushed some invisible crumbs off his own chest, ‘Well our costumes are still more authentic than what you usually see in films and documentaries, so why shouldn’t they make the most of that and include three pictures of us in costume in the pamphlet rather than just two?’
‘And I still think our audience is going to see plenty of us in costume,’ persisted Eiji. ‘There’re our individual pages in the pamphlet and most of the pictures from rehearsals will have us in kilts and stuff, then there’s the photosets and not to mention the behind-the-scenes footage for the DVD that was being filmed last week and all of this without including the actual performance… just what are you worried about Kime? That no one will fully appreciate how good you look in a dress?’
‘You can’t talk, Pharaoh-kun, not when you shaved your legs last night,’ Kime jumped to his feet as he spoke and gave Eiji a fluttery wave over his shoulder as he sauntered off towards the cluster of guests who were currently talking to Kato.
Eiji opened and closed his mouth once before telling Tuti and Takashi very emphatically, ‘I was told to shave them by Ueshima-san, it’s not like I make a habit of it.’
***
Wedged into a corner by the uncomfortable crush of too many people in too small a space, Tuti’s head nodded in time to the swaying, rattling train that was carrying him through the February evening darkness to his apartment and the very welcome thought of bed. His day was finally over, all questions dismissed for now so that all he had to think about was the way his muscles ached and how many tasks he could eliminate from his evening routine so that he could fall into bed that much quicker.
Tuti had been working under the impression that the morning’s rehearsals had been frantic but it was an idea he’d quickly lost once the afternoon had got underway. They’d been pushed through scene after scene repeatedly, fine-tuning actions and clarifying instructions while all the time being reminded that tomorrow things would be changing, tomorrow they’d be rehearsing on the theatre’s stage for the first time.
Part of Tuti was looking forward to it, it would mean a change of pace and require a different kind of focus as previously ignored aspects of the production such as the staging and lights were brought in to make their own contributions. He’d watched Hirofumi-san have a long and very involved conversation with some of the technical people earlier and they’d all been gesticulating so much that they might as well have been communicating by semaphore. The half-made props he’d become used to were being replaced by the finished items, passing one room from which the smell of paint was crawling out of had given him a glimpse of whitewashed mud-brick houses and everyone had had their heads re-measured to make sure they would still fit the wigs they’d been fitted for at the production’s start.
But the bustle and busyness hadn’t yet been able to completely overwhelm that unshakable element of fear or silence the nagging voice in the back of his head that reminded him that this was another part of the countdown to the opening night and the end of Nile Blue. The transition from rehearsal hall to open stage meant Tuti only had five days left to savour the things he’d grown to love about this show before everything around him changed again.
At least here and now, when exhaustion and the nagging presence of suited commuters with their briefcases and newspapers could distract him, Tuti couldn’t find the space in his head to feel nervous. Head hitting the cool window behind him with a thunk that no one could have heard and he wasn’t awake enough to feel, Tuti shut his eyes on the artificial lights and thought about cosy things like his soft bed, warm baths and the dinner with Takashi he’d managed to stay awake for.
***
Kicking his shoes off his feet and out of sight under a discarded bag, Takashi called out ‘I’m home,’ more from habit than because he expected anyone to answer from the depths of the half-lit apartment.
‘You’re early, did Tuti not fancy any dessert?’ hand-toweling his hair and wearing the baggiest t-shirt in existence, Kime was lounging on the couch and looking irritatingly awake as Takashi crashed onto the cushions next to him.
‘We had to call it a night,’ Takashi yawned. ‘I’m exhausted and he isn’t any better.’
Kime reached for the TV remote rather than bother answering directly. Only once they were being greeted by cheery presenters on some game show whose current contestant was three times wider than Kime, did he pass comment. ‘It’s nice that you two try and make some time for each other even when we’re pushed like this.’
‘It’s not time that’s the problem,’ Takashi stretched his arms over his head, feeling joints pop and muscles protest before he relaxed again like a deflated balloon. ‘It’s energy… I swear Tuti was going to fall asleep nose-first into his plate while we were eating.’
With a chuckle Takashi chose to ignore, Kime flicked through a few more channels. ‘Not long now, Lover Boy, then you can have the messy-haired man of your dreams all to yourself. Just remember to get through the performances first, okay?’
‘Rehearsals and interviews first.’
‘There many left to do?’
‘Interviews you mean?’ Takashi had let his eyes close while Kime channel-surfed and he didn’t bother to open them now when the sounds coming from the TV promised only emotion-ridden dramas and cheery adverts. ‘One or two. The last isn’t till the day after tomorrow, then I’ll be able to relax and focus on the show. And it’s about time too cause -’ breaking off to yawn, Takashi gave another stretch and fell silent, knowing that Kime didn’t care whether he finished the thought or not.
***
‘Give me a chance,’ Tuti’s fingers squeezed tighter round Takashi’s wrist. ‘Please. I’m not going to swear I’ll get it right but… just one chance?’
The expression on Takashi’s face softened from one of suspicion to something betraying how much he wanted to believe Tuti’s earnest statement. ‘You mean that?’ he didn’t sound fully convinced, but maybe he wanted to be…
Tuti rose up off the couch he’d been sitting on, the movement fluid and easy as he maintained his hold on Takashi’s wrist. Only once he was on his feet, with Takashi looking up at him half wary, half hopeful, did he answer with careful measured words. ‘Let me prove it to you.’
‘Okay we’ll leave it there,’ Hirofumi-san clapped his hands together and Tuti obediently released Takashi’s wrist, but not before he’d been smiled at by the other actor. ‘Tsuchiya, Nagayama, Yamada-san is waiting for you in room seven - don’t let her talk to you for more than forty minutes, I want you both back promptly so that we can move on with act three, I’m still not happy with those lighting cues. Everyone else, lunch.’ With a dismissive wave of his hands that sent the rest of the cast scattering in different directions off the stage, the solidly-built director scooped up his annotated copy of the script and strode off to find someone else to give orders to.
‘Come on, lets get this over and done with,’ Tuti gave Takashi a grin as they left the stage together, the stairs that led down to the warren of corridors and dressing rooms beneath yawning wide in front of them.
‘Want to try and go out for dinner again tonight?’ was Takashi’s question as he paused to pull one of the blue production t-shirts over his head. ‘I know we’ll be tired but…’ he trailed off and gave Tuti a smile that Tuti wanted to believe was hopeful and suggestive even if they both knew that an afternoon being wrung out by their director would leave them both fit for little but sleep. It was frustrating that their time together was so curtailed and limited, or it would be if Tuti were capable of thinking of anything but the looming performances. Quite what Takashi thought about it, Tuti hadn’t ventured to ask but then again Takashi seemed to understand without him having to explain that he always got like this in the run up to opening night. In a perverse way, Tuti was used to the unsettling dreams about on-stage disasters and slip-ups that derailed the whole show, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed them.
‘This should be it.’ Takashi nudged Tuti free from his preoccupation and asked, ‘Ready?’
‘Guess so, just glad it’s the last -’ Tuti began but the end of his sentence was lost in a cheerful exclamation from inside the room he was now in the doorway of.
‘Long time no see Takashi!’
‘Eiko?!’
Inside room seven the petite, suited female who was waiting for them with her notebook and Dictaphone beamed straight past Tuti, the expression breaking into a laugh when Takashi moved suddenly forward and half-smothered her in a tight hug.
Tuti shut the door as two excited voices cried loud questions, every other word separated with yet another laugh and tried to ignore the way Takashi still had his hands on the woman’s arms. Wishing briefly for some pockets in his kilt that he could shove his hands into, Tuti made do with running his fingers through his hair and scratching at his cheek before finally giving in to the urge to say, ‘You two know each other already then?’
The question prompted Takashi to spin round, only now letting go of the reporter who was supposed to be interviewing them not groping them.
‘Eiko this is Tuti - Tsuchiya Yuuichi, I should say. Tuti, this is Yamada Eiko, she and I…’ Takashi broke off to laugh again, the sound grating briefly on Tuti’s abused ears. ‘We haven’t spoken for a while,’ he finished eventually.
‘Six years being “a while” in Takashi’s book,’ Yamada-san smiled wider, first at Tuti and then back at Takashi.
Takashi returned the grin with one of his own that looked irritatingly familiar to Tuti who had grown used to thinking of it as his. ‘Eiko and I used to live just round the block from each other when we were growing up,’ continued Takashi’s unnecessary explanation when Tuti didn’t immediately make the polite enquiries that they were probably expecting him to, but then seeing as his brain seemed to have become frozen trying to string words together seemed like a bad idea.
‘Attended the same schools unfortunately,’ nodded Yamada-san in happy agreement.
Takashi laughed yet again, ‘Yeah, it still bothers my mother that I never married you.’
‘Well what do you expect?’ Yamada-san’s attention was focused squarely back on Takashi again without even a flicker of a look in Tuti’s direction.
‘You going to tell your parents that you’ve seen me?’
‘I’ll be kicked out if I didn’t!’ cried the woman with her peculiar laugh before giving Tuti a smile that looked almost smug. ‘I’m sorry Tsuchiya-san, you must know what parents can be like, they form these ideas and expectations of their kids when you’re little and even when you’re twenty eight their ideas still pop up for the stupidest of reasons, like when you happen to meet up with your old high school sweetheart for example.’
Tuti felt his jaw lock; well that explained that then.
TBC