Fic: Nile Blue 32/33
Title: Nile Blue 32/33 (aka The Penultimate Chapter!)
Author: Dria
Rating: PG
Previous Chapters: All previous chapters can be found at StrawberryWine and by using the Nile Blue tag at tutixnagayan.
Summary: Tuti's paranoia and stage-fright goes from bad to worse and Nagayan's attempt at optimism meets an obstacle.
Author's Notes: This is it, the penultimate chapter of my two year work-in-progress and I will get chapter 33 written before I go to Japan next week to see Burimyu! Because I'm moving house at the weekend and I won't have the internet after that ^_^; Enjoy!
The swish of the curtains pulling back was the only warning Tuti had, caught in the middle of the stage without any of the props he was supposed to have he was trapped in the full glare of the spotlight like an animal picked out of the darkness by the headlights of the truck about to flatten it. The scenery behind him was only half changed over, the exterior background suggesting lush green fields and a high riverbank interrupted by the interior walls of Pharaoh’s gold-covered palace. Tuti himself was in a worse state, unable to move thanks to the weight of the combined attention of five hundred people, and stuck there in his luminous green sweatpants and no shirt, his black wig tickling his suddenly cold shoulders and stage make-up smeared awkwardly across his skin.
The silence was painful, abrupt and judgmental, all those eyes resting on him, examining him, seeing the faults and the sweat and the failure. Tuti wanted to shrink from the attention, to hide away somewhere where they couldn’t see him but his feet wouldn’t move, fear had nailed them to the stage floor and he couldn’t escape.
Desperately searching for some way out, some saviour to put this hideous situation right, Tuti managed to look away from the audience to seek help in the wings. The rest of the cast was looking back at him, he could pick out the individual faces even in the gloom and they all looked angry with him as though it were his fault, all his fault; Eiji and Kimeru, Tacchan and Nitta, Ueshima and Hirofumi, the wardrobe lady and the lighting guy and the kid who was always running around with a mop or a broom. There were more people too, Daiki and Wasshi looking pissed off and disappointed apiece, his mother in silent tears that definitely had nothing to do with pride, his old homeroom teacher from high school who he’d used to chat to instead of cleaning the classroom with the others, the crotchety obachans who made up the core of his mother’s customers, even, Tuti’s stomach did another tighter, painful clench, even his father was there...
All watching him, all disappointed and angry, all let-down and betrayed and it was all his fault...
Takashi was there. Tuti didn’t know how he knew but he did. Takashi was there behind him, waiting for Tuti to turn round, waiting for an apology or a punch on the jaw or something.
Tuti turned.
Beep-beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep-beep.
Jerked out of sleep by the incessantly penetrating noise of his phone’s alarm, Tuti fumbled and fought his way out of the covers to hit the thing until it shut up. Eyes screwed up against the morning light and his movements all uncoordinated as he tried to get himself partially upright, Tuti celebrated his eventual success at this task by mumbling a few chosen swear words under his breath and trying to remember what day it was.
Another noise from his phone made him grab at it, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand, he flipped the noisy irritant open to stop it playing more of Remioromen’s sangatsu and grunted a greeting into it without even bothering to check who was calling.
‘Are you trying to prove that we’re descended from animals, Tuti, or am I not worth a "good morning"?’
‘Huh-wha-nnn,’ Tuti pulled the phone away from his ear and squinted at the display screen before returning it to the right place to say, ‘Daiki?’ into the receiver.
‘Who else would call you at 7am?’
‘Just woken up,’ Tuti slurred, the inside of his mouth feeling dry and his teeth furry making his words distorted and swallowing half his vowels before they were audible.
‘I can tell. But I knew I had to catch you early today otherwise we wouldn’t get a chance to chat.’
‘Why do we need to chat?’ the question was formed with difficulty, but Tuti felt vaguely proud of the fact that Daiki wouldn’t be able to correct his grammar even if he didn’t understand why his friend was calling him.
‘Why -’ Daiki’s voice broke off abruptly, Tuti having already decided that he shouldn’t be allowed to sound so cheery first thing in the morning. ‘Tuti,’ Daiki began again. ‘As your best friend it’s my duty to help you and... look you do realise what day it is, right?’
Tuti ran a hand through his hair and frowned at nothing. ‘Enlighten me Daiki, what day is it today?’
Daiki’s voice sounded peculiarly serious as he pronounced into Tuti’s ear words that woke him up more effectively than any cold shower ever would. ‘Today’s the first day Tuti, the first night, Nile Blue’s opening night.’
***
After the application of shower, soap and razor, Tuti was looking at least vaguely presentable as he stood on the corner opposite his local subway station. It was only a required illusion though because Tuti didn’t felt presentable or even remotely ready for the day ahead, but he was ignoring that as determinedly as he was ignoring the sick feeling in his stomach and the headache thumping at his temples. He’d bypassed his kitchen completely on his way out of his apartment, refusing to submit even to the lure of coffee if for no other reason than it would have tasted really weird on top of toothpaste.
A double beep from his phone, a sound so muffled by his bag that it was barely on the edge of hearing amongst the sounds of commuter traffic and gusting winds that slipped between the surrounding buildings, served as a reminder to Tuti as to why he was standing there. The response the little artificial noise prompted was a slow one, a shrug of his shoulders as he rearranged the way his bag hung across his body and the coat buttoned up beneath, then a sigh as he stubbed out the remnants of the cigarette he’d spent the last few minutes viciously devouring on the top of the nearby rubbish bin. With that done Tuti had no more excuses and he crossed the road, his hands in his pockets, the necessary change for his ticket already sitting cool against his fingers and a curse aimed half-heartedly at the nagging friend who’d dragged him out of bed so early on his lips.
***
The scowl Daiki received from Tuti when the ungrateful lump finally met him would have made most people cross. It was not a pleasant look, even on a face as usually amusing as Tuti’s, and even Daiki’s first impulse was to smack Tuti round the head and tell him to snap out of his bad mood. Two days worth of terse conversations with Eiji, however, made him stop and when Daiki did that he found it easy to see the dark circles, dry skin and worried frown that spoke not of a grumpy-Tuti but a confused one. Of course, even then he told Tuti off for walking around like a one man thunderstorm and told him to relax and consider himself lucky because it wasn’t every day he was treated to an all-you-can-carry breakfast by his best and wisest friend. Tuti’s expression didn’t change much, even when Daiki made some forehead related jokes, and their conversation quickly became a one-sided monologue as Daiki sauntered round the convenience store with Tuti trailing distractedly in his wake.
‘Look,’ Daiki said, turning to Tuti once they were out of the store and Tuti had been forced to carry three plastic bags of assorted food and drink. ‘I know you’ve never done a production quite like this one, but that’s the kind of thing that excites you, I know it does. So what’s the matter, why are you… I don’t know, why are you being so… un-Tuti-ish?’
The immediate answer he got was one of those exasperating shrugs Tuti sometimes made when he was trying to worm out of answering something or trying to buy enough time to think of a weird excuse, but instead of a joke it was accompanied by a glance down and Daiki snapped, ‘The answer isn’t written on the pavement! Whatever’s the matter Tuti, you’re going to have to be the one to fix it. We want to help, Eiji and me, but we can’t read your mind so help us, will you?’
‘I’m sorry Daiki-chan,’ Tuti met Daiki’s gaze with a fair degree of reluctance. ‘I don’t think I even know what’s wrong with me anymore.’
‘Idiot,’ Daiki tried not to smile a little at his woebegone friend. ‘You’ll figure it out.’
‘And when am I meant to do that?’ Tuti almost winced as though thinking about his upcoming performance was painful although Daiki was at a loss to know why.
‘You’ll surprise yourself,’ Daiki told him. ‘You’re a better guy, and a better actor, than you give yourself credit for. Now come on, time I got you to the theatre.’
***
Sometimes Kime could be the best flatmate in the world; his income was stable, he was a willing clothes-horse for whatever new design Takashi had dreamt up and he had an encyclopedic knowledge of pop music stretching back ten years. In other ways, however, he was less helpful and Kime’s habit of trying to fix the problems he believed his friends were struggling with was definitely one of his less endearing tendencies. Consequently Takashi had been collared by Kime’s boyfriend first thing that morning who had given him coffee, cooked him breakfast and given him some less than subtle advice.
To be fair to Abe, who was a perfectly nice, reasonable and sensible man, he had been completely set up by his other half and Takashi knew Abe would never normally have interfered if Kime hadn’t talked him into it. But the problem was that once Abe had been talked into something by his besotted boyfriend it was a little difficult to talk him out of it, especially when Takashi’s first coffee of the morning was being held to ransom. So he’d listened, and answered the questions put to him and slowly, reluctantly and with the aid of three cups of perfectly made coffee, Takashi had found himself being talked round to Abe’s point of view.
It was lucky that Takashi liked and valued Abe’s friendship because otherwise he’d have had to have hit the other man for being so damn reasonable and persuasive. It almost irritated Takashi that Kime’s scheme, via Abe, had worked, but irritation couldn’t quite be conjured up when he’d been gently instilled with a certain amount of optimism that had settled in his stomach along with a warm breakfast. Abe was, after all, perfectly right that this was a new day, that the opening performance of Nile Blue was that night and that instead of an end this was a beginning, a new beginning for Takashi and for his career, a new chapter in his life that spoke of opportunities and change and he had to make the most of that, had to seize it, had to make the most of the challenges in every area of his life…
The door of the rehearsal hall where Takashi had been doing his solitary stretches along with his solitary, optimistic meditation on the Philosophy of Life according to Abe, swung open with such vigor that it almost smashed into the wall. The person responsible was so wrapped up in coat and scarf that for a moment Takashi couldn’t recognise them until his gaze rose high enough to see untidy hair, a wide forehead and a rounded nose. Springing lightly to his feet, Takashi raised his chin and said with sincere cheerfulness, ‘Morning Tuti.’
There was no turn of the familiar head, no suggestion that he’d been heard and the door out of the hall into the corridors beyond thumped back into place behind a Tuti who had steamrollered through the room without a pause.
Takashi was left standing alone, bare feet cold on the wooden floor, the very idea of optimism suddenly seeming a long way out of his reach.
***
‘I don’t wish to seem nervous but… it’s not looking good, is it?’
‘Sure sounds like nerves to me.’
‘They know their lines, they know their marks, technically everything will be fine.’
Kato glanced from the distant frown on Ueshima’s face to the way Hirofumi was inspecting his fingernails. Neither of them looked exactly convinced by their own reassurances and he had to ask, ‘What happens if the performance is a disaster?’
‘Who said it’d be a disaster?’ demanded Ueshima immediately.
But Hirofumi was calmer, ‘It will not be a disaster, things always look worse in the run up to the first performance than they actually are.’
‘I know but…’ Kato tried to think of a way he could sound sensible and yet still express his concerns without falling into hysterics. ‘But our lead actors aren’t talking to each other, Kumiko-kun told me they’re avoiding each other, how can they possibly perform like that?’
‘They’ll perform,’ Ueshima told him with a grim smile. ‘If they don’t… its not called "disaster", Kato-kun, it's called “ career suicide” for them and “retirement” for us.’
***
Someone had told him there was half an hour to go till curtain up. Tuti couldn’t quite remember who it had been, one of the lighting guys or maybe one of the stage techs who looked after the scenery or something, but it had been someone who knew what they were talking about which was just as well because Tuti didn’t have a watch with him. Maybe he should have picked it up before he’d walked out of the dressing room but forethought wasn’t exactly something he was good at when there was so much tension in the air you could have cut it into chunks with a blunt knife and spread jam on it. Besides, for all that the Ancient Egyptians had been an advanced civilisation, no one had proven to Tuti that they’d invented the wristwatch.
Water clocks though, they’d had those… or was that ancient China? Just how had the Egyptians told the time, Tuti wondered as he turned and walked back along the little length of corridor he’d taken up residence in. They’d had geometry, they’d used plumblines and measures and things called cubits and digits, it was how they’d been able to build the pyramids after all, but Tuti couldn’t remember hearing about any kind of time-keeping devices. So just how had Pharaoh’s servants known when to wake him?
Thinking about Pharaoh led Tuti’s mind back to Eiji, and from there to Daiki. The pep-talk and huge amount of food he’d been dumped with had been all very well but Daiki had been decidedly lacking in solid advice and right now that was what Tuti suspected he needed far more than he needed pocky, melon soda and onigiri. What Daiki had said though had been more than enough to keep Tuti’s brain occupied all day and so he couldn’t blame Eiji for repeatedly elbowing him whenever the director had been trying to talk to him. But his absorption had got him nowhere, every attempt at finding a way out of his mental tangle only led Tuti back round in more confusing circles until he was now at the point where he just wanted to get on with the performance so that he could stop worrying about it.
Fifteen minutes to go, a voice called from further down the corridor.
Fifteen minutes until he had to step out onto that stage and trust that it wouldn’t be like what he remembered of his dreams from the night before. He had to trust that Daiki was right, that he was good enough to pull this off even when none of the main actors were talking to each other out of character. He had to get himself through these next few minutes in his own way, ignoring the fact that under normal circumstances Eiji would never allow him to be on his own just before a performance because for once Tuti didn’t want company, didn’t want a distraction and now that he really thought about it, he certainly didn’t want anyone’s advice because how could they understand his problems when he couldn't?
Eiji and me… we want to help...
Tuti didn’t doubt Daiki had meant every syllable, but what could they do? What could anyone do?
‘Tsuchiya-san?’
Tuti turned automatically on hearing his name and tried not to stare or say something equally rude when he saw who had come looking for him.
‘I’m sorry Tsuchiya-san; I know there’s only a few minutes to go until you have to go on stage, but…’ Yamada Eiko trailed off and her face flushed. She almost looked embarrassed but Tuti was too stunned by what she said next, let alone the fact that she was standing in front of him at all, to dwell on it, ‘I’m very sorry, I know you must be preparing yourself and that you shouldn’t be disturbed but… I really, really wanted to speak to you before the performance started so… may I please steal a few minutes of your time, Tsuchiya-san?’
TBC
Author: Dria
Rating: PG
Previous Chapters: All previous chapters can be found at StrawberryWine and by using the Nile Blue tag at tutixnagayan.
Summary: Tuti's paranoia and stage-fright goes from bad to worse and Nagayan's attempt at optimism meets an obstacle.
Author's Notes: This is it, the penultimate chapter of my two year work-in-progress and I will get chapter 33 written before I go to Japan next week to see Burimyu! Because I'm moving house at the weekend and I won't have the internet after that ^_^; Enjoy!
The swish of the curtains pulling back was the only warning Tuti had, caught in the middle of the stage without any of the props he was supposed to have he was trapped in the full glare of the spotlight like an animal picked out of the darkness by the headlights of the truck about to flatten it. The scenery behind him was only half changed over, the exterior background suggesting lush green fields and a high riverbank interrupted by the interior walls of Pharaoh’s gold-covered palace. Tuti himself was in a worse state, unable to move thanks to the weight of the combined attention of five hundred people, and stuck there in his luminous green sweatpants and no shirt, his black wig tickling his suddenly cold shoulders and stage make-up smeared awkwardly across his skin.
The silence was painful, abrupt and judgmental, all those eyes resting on him, examining him, seeing the faults and the sweat and the failure. Tuti wanted to shrink from the attention, to hide away somewhere where they couldn’t see him but his feet wouldn’t move, fear had nailed them to the stage floor and he couldn’t escape.
Desperately searching for some way out, some saviour to put this hideous situation right, Tuti managed to look away from the audience to seek help in the wings. The rest of the cast was looking back at him, he could pick out the individual faces even in the gloom and they all looked angry with him as though it were his fault, all his fault; Eiji and Kimeru, Tacchan and Nitta, Ueshima and Hirofumi, the wardrobe lady and the lighting guy and the kid who was always running around with a mop or a broom. There were more people too, Daiki and Wasshi looking pissed off and disappointed apiece, his mother in silent tears that definitely had nothing to do with pride, his old homeroom teacher from high school who he’d used to chat to instead of cleaning the classroom with the others, the crotchety obachans who made up the core of his mother’s customers, even, Tuti’s stomach did another tighter, painful clench, even his father was there...
All watching him, all disappointed and angry, all let-down and betrayed and it was all his fault...
Takashi was there. Tuti didn’t know how he knew but he did. Takashi was there behind him, waiting for Tuti to turn round, waiting for an apology or a punch on the jaw or something.
Tuti turned.
Beep-beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep-beep.
Jerked out of sleep by the incessantly penetrating noise of his phone’s alarm, Tuti fumbled and fought his way out of the covers to hit the thing until it shut up. Eyes screwed up against the morning light and his movements all uncoordinated as he tried to get himself partially upright, Tuti celebrated his eventual success at this task by mumbling a few chosen swear words under his breath and trying to remember what day it was.
Another noise from his phone made him grab at it, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand, he flipped the noisy irritant open to stop it playing more of Remioromen’s sangatsu and grunted a greeting into it without even bothering to check who was calling.
‘Are you trying to prove that we’re descended from animals, Tuti, or am I not worth a "good morning"?’
‘Huh-wha-nnn,’ Tuti pulled the phone away from his ear and squinted at the display screen before returning it to the right place to say, ‘Daiki?’ into the receiver.
‘Who else would call you at 7am?’
‘Just woken up,’ Tuti slurred, the inside of his mouth feeling dry and his teeth furry making his words distorted and swallowing half his vowels before they were audible.
‘I can tell. But I knew I had to catch you early today otherwise we wouldn’t get a chance to chat.’
‘Why do we need to chat?’ the question was formed with difficulty, but Tuti felt vaguely proud of the fact that Daiki wouldn’t be able to correct his grammar even if he didn’t understand why his friend was calling him.
‘Why -’ Daiki’s voice broke off abruptly, Tuti having already decided that he shouldn’t be allowed to sound so cheery first thing in the morning. ‘Tuti,’ Daiki began again. ‘As your best friend it’s my duty to help you and... look you do realise what day it is, right?’
Tuti ran a hand through his hair and frowned at nothing. ‘Enlighten me Daiki, what day is it today?’
Daiki’s voice sounded peculiarly serious as he pronounced into Tuti’s ear words that woke him up more effectively than any cold shower ever would. ‘Today’s the first day Tuti, the first night, Nile Blue’s opening night.’
***
After the application of shower, soap and razor, Tuti was looking at least vaguely presentable as he stood on the corner opposite his local subway station. It was only a required illusion though because Tuti didn’t felt presentable or even remotely ready for the day ahead, but he was ignoring that as determinedly as he was ignoring the sick feeling in his stomach and the headache thumping at his temples. He’d bypassed his kitchen completely on his way out of his apartment, refusing to submit even to the lure of coffee if for no other reason than it would have tasted really weird on top of toothpaste.
A double beep from his phone, a sound so muffled by his bag that it was barely on the edge of hearing amongst the sounds of commuter traffic and gusting winds that slipped between the surrounding buildings, served as a reminder to Tuti as to why he was standing there. The response the little artificial noise prompted was a slow one, a shrug of his shoulders as he rearranged the way his bag hung across his body and the coat buttoned up beneath, then a sigh as he stubbed out the remnants of the cigarette he’d spent the last few minutes viciously devouring on the top of the nearby rubbish bin. With that done Tuti had no more excuses and he crossed the road, his hands in his pockets, the necessary change for his ticket already sitting cool against his fingers and a curse aimed half-heartedly at the nagging friend who’d dragged him out of bed so early on his lips.
***
The scowl Daiki received from Tuti when the ungrateful lump finally met him would have made most people cross. It was not a pleasant look, even on a face as usually amusing as Tuti’s, and even Daiki’s first impulse was to smack Tuti round the head and tell him to snap out of his bad mood. Two days worth of terse conversations with Eiji, however, made him stop and when Daiki did that he found it easy to see the dark circles, dry skin and worried frown that spoke not of a grumpy-Tuti but a confused one. Of course, even then he told Tuti off for walking around like a one man thunderstorm and told him to relax and consider himself lucky because it wasn’t every day he was treated to an all-you-can-carry breakfast by his best and wisest friend. Tuti’s expression didn’t change much, even when Daiki made some forehead related jokes, and their conversation quickly became a one-sided monologue as Daiki sauntered round the convenience store with Tuti trailing distractedly in his wake.
‘Look,’ Daiki said, turning to Tuti once they were out of the store and Tuti had been forced to carry three plastic bags of assorted food and drink. ‘I know you’ve never done a production quite like this one, but that’s the kind of thing that excites you, I know it does. So what’s the matter, why are you… I don’t know, why are you being so… un-Tuti-ish?’
The immediate answer he got was one of those exasperating shrugs Tuti sometimes made when he was trying to worm out of answering something or trying to buy enough time to think of a weird excuse, but instead of a joke it was accompanied by a glance down and Daiki snapped, ‘The answer isn’t written on the pavement! Whatever’s the matter Tuti, you’re going to have to be the one to fix it. We want to help, Eiji and me, but we can’t read your mind so help us, will you?’
‘I’m sorry Daiki-chan,’ Tuti met Daiki’s gaze with a fair degree of reluctance. ‘I don’t think I even know what’s wrong with me anymore.’
‘Idiot,’ Daiki tried not to smile a little at his woebegone friend. ‘You’ll figure it out.’
‘And when am I meant to do that?’ Tuti almost winced as though thinking about his upcoming performance was painful although Daiki was at a loss to know why.
‘You’ll surprise yourself,’ Daiki told him. ‘You’re a better guy, and a better actor, than you give yourself credit for. Now come on, time I got you to the theatre.’
***
Sometimes Kime could be the best flatmate in the world; his income was stable, he was a willing clothes-horse for whatever new design Takashi had dreamt up and he had an encyclopedic knowledge of pop music stretching back ten years. In other ways, however, he was less helpful and Kime’s habit of trying to fix the problems he believed his friends were struggling with was definitely one of his less endearing tendencies. Consequently Takashi had been collared by Kime’s boyfriend first thing that morning who had given him coffee, cooked him breakfast and given him some less than subtle advice.
To be fair to Abe, who was a perfectly nice, reasonable and sensible man, he had been completely set up by his other half and Takashi knew Abe would never normally have interfered if Kime hadn’t talked him into it. But the problem was that once Abe had been talked into something by his besotted boyfriend it was a little difficult to talk him out of it, especially when Takashi’s first coffee of the morning was being held to ransom. So he’d listened, and answered the questions put to him and slowly, reluctantly and with the aid of three cups of perfectly made coffee, Takashi had found himself being talked round to Abe’s point of view.
It was lucky that Takashi liked and valued Abe’s friendship because otherwise he’d have had to have hit the other man for being so damn reasonable and persuasive. It almost irritated Takashi that Kime’s scheme, via Abe, had worked, but irritation couldn’t quite be conjured up when he’d been gently instilled with a certain amount of optimism that had settled in his stomach along with a warm breakfast. Abe was, after all, perfectly right that this was a new day, that the opening performance of Nile Blue was that night and that instead of an end this was a beginning, a new beginning for Takashi and for his career, a new chapter in his life that spoke of opportunities and change and he had to make the most of that, had to seize it, had to make the most of the challenges in every area of his life…
The door of the rehearsal hall where Takashi had been doing his solitary stretches along with his solitary, optimistic meditation on the Philosophy of Life according to Abe, swung open with such vigor that it almost smashed into the wall. The person responsible was so wrapped up in coat and scarf that for a moment Takashi couldn’t recognise them until his gaze rose high enough to see untidy hair, a wide forehead and a rounded nose. Springing lightly to his feet, Takashi raised his chin and said with sincere cheerfulness, ‘Morning Tuti.’
There was no turn of the familiar head, no suggestion that he’d been heard and the door out of the hall into the corridors beyond thumped back into place behind a Tuti who had steamrollered through the room without a pause.
Takashi was left standing alone, bare feet cold on the wooden floor, the very idea of optimism suddenly seeming a long way out of his reach.
***
‘I don’t wish to seem nervous but… it’s not looking good, is it?’
‘Sure sounds like nerves to me.’
‘They know their lines, they know their marks, technically everything will be fine.’
Kato glanced from the distant frown on Ueshima’s face to the way Hirofumi was inspecting his fingernails. Neither of them looked exactly convinced by their own reassurances and he had to ask, ‘What happens if the performance is a disaster?’
‘Who said it’d be a disaster?’ demanded Ueshima immediately.
But Hirofumi was calmer, ‘It will not be a disaster, things always look worse in the run up to the first performance than they actually are.’
‘I know but…’ Kato tried to think of a way he could sound sensible and yet still express his concerns without falling into hysterics. ‘But our lead actors aren’t talking to each other, Kumiko-kun told me they’re avoiding each other, how can they possibly perform like that?’
‘They’ll perform,’ Ueshima told him with a grim smile. ‘If they don’t… its not called "disaster", Kato-kun, it's called “ career suicide” for them and “retirement” for us.’
***
Someone had told him there was half an hour to go till curtain up. Tuti couldn’t quite remember who it had been, one of the lighting guys or maybe one of the stage techs who looked after the scenery or something, but it had been someone who knew what they were talking about which was just as well because Tuti didn’t have a watch with him. Maybe he should have picked it up before he’d walked out of the dressing room but forethought wasn’t exactly something he was good at when there was so much tension in the air you could have cut it into chunks with a blunt knife and spread jam on it. Besides, for all that the Ancient Egyptians had been an advanced civilisation, no one had proven to Tuti that they’d invented the wristwatch.
Water clocks though, they’d had those… or was that ancient China? Just how had the Egyptians told the time, Tuti wondered as he turned and walked back along the little length of corridor he’d taken up residence in. They’d had geometry, they’d used plumblines and measures and things called cubits and digits, it was how they’d been able to build the pyramids after all, but Tuti couldn’t remember hearing about any kind of time-keeping devices. So just how had Pharaoh’s servants known when to wake him?
Thinking about Pharaoh led Tuti’s mind back to Eiji, and from there to Daiki. The pep-talk and huge amount of food he’d been dumped with had been all very well but Daiki had been decidedly lacking in solid advice and right now that was what Tuti suspected he needed far more than he needed pocky, melon soda and onigiri. What Daiki had said though had been more than enough to keep Tuti’s brain occupied all day and so he couldn’t blame Eiji for repeatedly elbowing him whenever the director had been trying to talk to him. But his absorption had got him nowhere, every attempt at finding a way out of his mental tangle only led Tuti back round in more confusing circles until he was now at the point where he just wanted to get on with the performance so that he could stop worrying about it.
Fifteen minutes to go, a voice called from further down the corridor.
Fifteen minutes until he had to step out onto that stage and trust that it wouldn’t be like what he remembered of his dreams from the night before. He had to trust that Daiki was right, that he was good enough to pull this off even when none of the main actors were talking to each other out of character. He had to get himself through these next few minutes in his own way, ignoring the fact that under normal circumstances Eiji would never allow him to be on his own just before a performance because for once Tuti didn’t want company, didn’t want a distraction and now that he really thought about it, he certainly didn’t want anyone’s advice because how could they understand his problems when he couldn't?
Eiji and me… we want to help...
Tuti didn’t doubt Daiki had meant every syllable, but what could they do? What could anyone do?
‘Tsuchiya-san?’
Tuti turned automatically on hearing his name and tried not to stare or say something equally rude when he saw who had come looking for him.
‘I’m sorry Tsuchiya-san; I know there’s only a few minutes to go until you have to go on stage, but…’ Yamada Eiko trailed off and her face flushed. She almost looked embarrassed but Tuti was too stunned by what she said next, let alone the fact that she was standing in front of him at all, to dwell on it, ‘I’m very sorry, I know you must be preparing yourself and that you shouldn’t be disturbed but… I really, really wanted to speak to you before the performance started so… may I please steal a few minutes of your time, Tsuchiya-san?’
TBC