FIC FOR TATOEBA (part 2)
For: tatoeba
From: reiicharu
Title: Cross a Great Divide
Pairing: past Jinda, past Akame, Kameda, past KoKamePi, Nakanishi, ShuKira
Rating: R for angst and sexual content and naked people
Warning:Slashy gen, humour, angst, drama, naked Yamapi, naked people in general, continuous Ryo-Jin banter, plushies.
Notes: tatoeba, I hope you enjoy!
Summary:It starts with the fact that yes, Koki’s apartment needs a clean out, then Nakamaru is caught in between, Taguchi makes puns, Ueda really wishes his band could be sane. Kame and Jin? Well, there’s a plushie involved somewhere.
part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4
Making it worldwide, that’s all part of Kame’s plan to make them unstoppable, invincible and absolutely amazing.
Ueda’s known that much since they were fresh wide eyed Juniors all thrown into a room by one of the Domotos and Johnny. He’s always known that Kame’s been the one to succeed, the one to push and the one to strive for perfection. Everything had been confirmed when Kame’s fists were flying and they tried to tear each other apart like stupid adolescents fighting over a mistake because they hated each other and had no way out.
“What are you thinking about?” Nakamaru asks, concerned.
It’s been a long day. All the cleaning, all the meetings and Ueda’s head is getting into a bit of a mess. Although, one thing remains quite clear.
“KAT-TUN,” Ueda answers honestly.
Nakamaru smiles.
They’ll take over the world, one day.
It’d been an option, once upon a time. Sparkle like a diamond and outshine everyone else.
He sees Jin in the spotlight, burning so brightly like a supernova.
On tour with MOUSEPEACE, with Five, Ueda had this tendency to get everyone together and hold a jamming session. It’s good for the work environment.
That and it’s an excuse to do a karaoke acoustic rendition of a Gackt song without someone filming it (Koki) and spreading it to the rest of the Jimusho and someone (Nishikido) taunting him about it two weeks later.
“It really hurts,” Jin had complained, huddled in a corner and a hand upped over his left ear. “Why didn’t you warn me it’d hurt so much?” he snapped, smacking Ueda on the shoulder with his other hand. “You never said it’d hurt.”
“I never told you to get a piercing,” Ueda drawled, sitting down next to Jin and offering him a candy bar.
Jin’s smile, back then, had been mega wattage at the sight of food.
“Doesn’t hurt anymore?” Ueda had smirked, shaking his head in disapproval. “My piercing didn’t hurt. Some people are just more susceptible to pain, that’s all. You just might be one of them.”
“Can you give me your earring when it’s healed up?” Jin asked, all wide eyed and in awe of the dangling earring that hangs from Ueda’s left lobe. “You bought it in a pair, didn’t you?”
“Jin, we’d just look like a couple.”
“What’s wrong with looking like a couple?”
“We aren’t a couple.”
“Oh.”
“Yes.”
“Can we be a couple?”
“Ueda?” Kame’s voice is raspy and slurred. “Ue. Ueda?” he tries again.
He sits up, flicking on Koki’s night lamp. “Kame, it’s three am.”
“Ueda, please.”
Ueda’s dragging everyone out of bed on the way out.
“We should totally write a song,” Koki suggested in Korea. “We need to write a song,” he insisted all the way from the studios to the hotel to the hotel bathhouse to their hotel rooms until he wore down Nakamaru and Taguchi.
Ueda went to shadow box in a corner, watching out of the corner of his eye as Koki tried his very best to wheedle Kame into agreeing that a song about chicks in Mexico would be a number one seller. When that idea didn’t work, Ueda tried his best not to laugh (loudly) when Koki suggested they write a song about being hot like dynamite.
“Where is the K in TNT?” Taguchi wondered out loud.
Koki smacked him over the head.
“Can I talk about a samurai in the song?” Kame asked carefully.
“I’m not sure if that’s what Koki had in mind,” Nakamaru said slowly. “He mentioned something else but I can’t remember.”
“What were you going to write about then?” Kame demanded with narrowed eyes. “I can’t agree to anything unless I know what I’m agreeing to.”
Koki stared. “Uhm.”
“Hito,” Taguchi shouted, ‘people’ in Japanese. “We’d be an instant hitto.”
“I’ll get some cold water,” Koki says the moment he opens the door. “Taguchi, can you get me some clean towels.”
“Ueda, can you help take him?” Nakamaru says, struggling with the protesting Kame. “Are you okay, Kame?” Nakamaru tries to ask loudly but he’s tripped over his own feet, falling hard on the shiny clean wooden floor.
Ueda manhandles him all the way to the bathroom.
“Good one,” he hears Koki snicker. “KAT-TUN’s next Olympian.” Koki also adds something about Nakamaru’s face but Ueda doesn’t really hear it.
Kame, as it would seem, doesn’t want to get undressed.
“Now if only you were like this on stage,” Ueda says wryly, smacking Kame’s hands away. “Let me get your shirt off so you don’t get it wet.”
“Make U Wet,” Kame laughs with silly giggles and a red flush. “Like Koki?”
“We are not going to discuss lyrics when you’re tipsy,” Ueda says firmly, stripping off Kame’s shirt and tossing it aside. “Get your pants off, get into the shower.”
“Could write a song,” Kame mutters, shoving Ueda back and dumping himself into a corner. He lets his head loll back, a muffled thud when he hits the wall. “Get your pants off, getting wet and then management will censor it and add in a sparkly metaphor about warming your heart, getting your lower half hot. Then we’ll sing it, dance and then wear something shiny.”
Ueda rolls his eyes. “Kame, get into the shower.”
“Ueda, I’m tired.”
“I know.”
Kame gets into shower.
Singles stack up, reaching the sky but never hitting a limit. PVs need to be filmed, rehearsals need to be scheduled and all this on top of their concert planning because after five years, they need to be spectacular or else what will people remember when they think of KAT-TUN?
Ueda touches the Polaroid in his locker.
They had been sprawled over a couch-Nakamaru complained about the beer stains from when a tipsy Jin tackled Ueda who tripped into Kame who fell onto Koki who knocked Taguchi over who accidentally shoved Nakamaru down onto the couch. Takki had walked in at the right moment and click went the shutter.
He looks at the photo sticking next to it.
Five of them, sitting on someone’s bed in Korea-M!Countdown had been exhausting but they had known. This is it, they’ve come this far. That and Kame always had the best room, the biggest bed and even though he would complain, they loved sharing with him.
He sees lavender fields in a postcard.
On masking tape, holding up the postcard is Jin’s messy scrawl. SEPARATE BEDS, it reminds Ueda every time whenever he opens his locker.
Ueda’s locker smells like potpourri because Koki keeps giving him satchels of it (never mind that Koki’s mother keeps giving it to all the Tanaka brothers and Koki wouldn’t be caught dead with the stuff in his locker full of graffiti and bling).
His locker probably speaks volumes because Taguchi’s the one who left a small frog plushie in there, ages ago.
(“Uepi is like a frog prince! He transformed into something beautiful!”
“Who kissed me?”
“I can kiss you now if you no one kissed you.”
“No.”)
He closes the door to the fairytale, remembering that he’s not blonde anymore and that the world is waiting for him.
“Ueda?”
“Jin,” he greets and he does it with a whole heart and an honest smile.
“Kame hates me,” Jin says quietly, like always.
“He doesn’t hate you,” Ueda promises, every time.
“Can we talk?” Jin asks.
“I’m going to the gym.”
Jin drives them. His car smells like a late night out and there’s a sports bag dumped in the backseat, the sneakers spilling out with the sweaty trackpants and Yellow Gold tour shirt that could probably use another wash and some bleach. He’s been lazy.
“He doesn’t hate you,” Ueda says, breaking the silence when he’s wrapping his hands.
Jin sits against a wall, turtle plushie balanced on his knees. “He does,” he whines-it’s cute. “He probably has a voodoo doll and sticks pins into it every five seconds because he’s spiteful like that,” he adds like he’s seen said voodoo doll.
“Because he has so much time on his off days that he can be bothered to make a voodoo doll?”
Jin glares at the turtle plushie.
“Exactly.”
“But-”
“Jin, anything you say will turn out stupid so think before you speak,” Ueda advises.
“How did you get to work today?” Jin mumbles through his bangs.
“Stayed over at someone’s place. We’ve all been staying over. Cleaning, not that you’d know the idea of it.” It never ceases to amuse him, the sound of Jin’s outraged splutter of being left out. “We were doing a clean up for Koki because Juri would be staying with him for a few days. Although Koki’s a man, there’s no reason for his little brother to live in a pigsty, is there? And before you ask, Juri-kun just misses hanging out with Koki so we all decided to help the guy because god knows if the man even owns a vacuum cleaner.” There. A half truth.
“That was just the first time,” Jin protests feebly.
“And in your case, your landlord was paying you a visit,” Ueda recalls with a smile. “And you swallowed a dust bunny.”
“I didn’t swallow it! It just ended up in my mouth. Wait, that sounded so much better in my head.”
“Like I said, think before you speak.”
“Shut up, Uebo.” Jin huddles with his turtle plushie.
They stood side by side, their fans’ cheers roaring so loud but a world away. They stood on the platform with their fur coats and sunglasses, almost ready to take off. Their guitars weighed them down; their hopes kept them afloat.
It wasn’t just a dream.
“I want to write a song,” Jin once said, determination built up. “I could write amazing songs,” he had insisted. Back then, his hair had been fluffier than clouds, making it a bit hard to take him seriously.
“You also wanted a piercing and you wanted to learn how to smoke. Honestly, this could be the most sensible suggestion you’ve ever made. And that’s why I’m not taking it seriously.”
“I can so write a song.” It had been cute, the way Jin puffed up with indignation, fuelled by Ueda’s careless drawls and dismissive (well meaning) doubt. “You’ll see,” Jin had insisted, crawling off the bed and across the floor. “I’ll make you listen to it.” Because back then, Jin thought looking Ueda right in the eyes would be intimidating.
“Sure,” Ueda had laughed, shaking his head.
“Besides, you were the one who taught me how to smoke.”
The gym is his sanity in the middle of a busy schedule because touring and planning is never easy and he can find a gym in every hotel and city he stays in. It’s convenient.
After the gym, he gets another slurry phonecall that takes him down to a bar where Kame’s holding tight onto a glass of whiskey that’s almost completely drained save for a little bit left, pooling all around the ice.
“Kame, Kame, Kame,” Ueda sighs before dialling Nakamaru, then Koki, then Taguchi.
“Have a drink,” Kame insists whilst looking at him through unseeing eyes. “Drink with me.”
“No, Kame.”
“No, you should,” Kame snaps. “Celebrate. We should celebrate with champagne.”
He orders, ignoring Ueda’s protests because no one can stop Kame because really, Kame’s a force of nature. He orders champagne that bubbles in the tall flutes the bartender pushes to them even if the place is low lit and rather sleazy. But yes, champagne because Dom Perignon’sKame’s pick of poison.
“Have you finished killing your liver yet?” Ueda asks testily, half a glass later.
Kame guzzles it down, almost like fine wine but the malicious glint flickers through his eyes. “Does it matter? It’s a party, take a shot.”
That’s under the belt, Kamenashi.
“Can you take him to my place first?” Ueda asks when Koki turns up with one sleepy Nakamaru. “Taguchi’s driving, right? Take him to my place first.”
“What, then what about you?” Nakamaru yawns as he struggles to hold up one clearly tipsy Kame.
Ueda examines all his leftover champagne, smiling thinly. “Do you really think this is going to end well?”
“Ueda,” Koki says warily. “What are you planning?”
“I’m being Leader, what else am I doing?”
Lavender fields-still-calmed him down. There was something ethereal, the delicate scent that wafted around with small purple buds that peeked out of brown stalks. And they always grew up. Then they were harvested. Then they froze through the winter.
But maybe Nakamaru knew there’d always be a next time, in spring perhaps when they regrew to be harvested once more. Perhaps that was reason enough for Nakamaru to book trips to Hokkaido or anywhere in Japan that had endless stretches of strawberries or lavender.
“Where are we going this time?”
“Raspberry picking,” Nakamaru laughed. “You can put down the window if you want.”
The wind slipped through his hands, cool and unsubstantial.
“Do you think-”
“Separate rooms, you wanted that much, right?” Nakamaru said.
Ueda closed his eyes, trying to touch the wind. “Thank you.”
“Let me help you.”
“It’s too complicated.”
“It always will be.” Nakamaru parked. Narita was in front of them. Waiting, almost. “You know, you can put aside your pride and your hurt.”
Ueda snorted and gave a small shake of his head. “You should say that to someone else, not me,” he murmured. The soft drumming of his fingers on the dashboard, there was no rhythm. Ueda just needed to think. Somehow. “Of course, to hear, one has to listen,” he thought out loud with mirthless laugh. “Would you listen?”
He’s outside Jin’s apartment.
This could be a bad idea. Maybe it is. That and there’s the chance of Yamashita being home. Ueda has nothing against Jin’s roommate and Japan’s favourite idol but the truth is that he hardly speaks to Yamashita. He wouldn’t know what to say if they run into each other.
Ueda kills the engine. It makes no sense, driving over for no reason and without a warning.
He starts the engine.
Jin stood there, bags packed and hair a mess. “I. My mother said. You. Can I.”
Ueda stepped aside to let Jin into the apartment. “Should I get you a drink?” Ueda asked gently even though was trying his best not to break out the masking tape and rope so he could tie Jin to a chair so he’d miss his flight to America the next morning. But Ueda knew that’d be the wrong thing to do (and it’s also illegal) so he waited for Jin to put his shoes away.
“Can I leave this here?” Jin asked, nodding to his bags.
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
“Ueda-”
“I might get some water,” Jin mumbled in a rush. He darted past Ueda, right into the kitchen. Soft banging of the cupboards, the running of a tap and it was good that Jin wasn’t drinking. He shouldn’t get onto a plane with a hangover-that’d be stupid and Jin’s smarter than that.
He wanted to take Jin’s bags so they could be set on fire. He can’t go to LA without his essentials. Or maybe temporary ‘borrow’ Jin’s passport but diabolical plans not only made Ueda seem like a psychopath but if he was so desperate, actions would hinder more than help. Besides, this isn’t Ueda’s choice. And he made his decision to support Jin-
Shattered.
“Jin?” Ueda asked from the kitchen doorway.
“I’ll clean it up,” Jin insisted, crouching down to pick up the broken mug. “I’m sorry, I’ll clean it up for you. I’m already intruding.”
“Use a vacuum, not your hand. You’ll cut yourself.” Too late.
Jin stared as the mess of porcelain and the small droplets of blood on his finger. He stared and he stared and perhaps crickets chirped in the background. But Jin kept staring. “I’ll fix the mug with super glue. I’m sorry, it must have been expensive.”
Ueda sighed and found Jin a bandaid and some antiseptic. “Small sting,” he warned after getting the wound flushed out with water. He ignored the warmth of Jin’s palms, the way Jin’s hands shook when the small bite of the antiseptic sunk in. There, the bandaid was on. He let go.
“It’s not fixed,” Jin realised.
“What? It’s just a mug.”
“Sometimes, a bandaid can’t fix it. Not even superglue.”
Ueda took Jin’s hand in his and kissed the wound through the bandaid.
They said nothing more.
Taguchi calls. “Uepi,” he sings into the phone. “Come back,” he requests gently.
“Is everything okay? What did you destroy in my penthouse?”
“Nothing,” Taguchi replies. “Just, we want you back.”
“I just went for a drive.”
“But it’s better, when all of us are together.”
Ueda disconnects, turning the car around.
They met when they were children. Of course, they thought they were kings of their respective worlds; cocky little teenagers that still had yet to fill out their shoulders and their limbs still lanky and waiting for puberty to throw them a growth spurt.
They were kids. They made mistakes. All of them.
“I’m not you!” He shouted words like that because they were true. His pride was hurt. Ueda had his pride, Ueda was older, Ueda was senpai by six freaking months, Ueda-
“Well, maybe that’s the problem,” stupid little Kame yelled back. Kame’s face needed a fist in it.
It took the other four to tear them away and there were injuries as well.
Why didn’t you take my side, Ueda wanted to shout at Jin, stupid Jin who dragged Kame off into the corridor, to calm him down. He couldn’t shout when Jin was with Kame because Jin cares about Kame and because Ueda cares about Jin-
“What do you want?” Maybe he lashed out at Nakamaru because no one was helping. Nakamaru sat there, behind Taguchi who plays with his GameBoy.
“Haven’t you done enough shitty damage already?” Koki snapped. “You hit the youngest, now you want a round two?”
“It's his fault.” Words, they’ve always hurt.
Koki stood up. “You take it back.”
“You take it back.”
“You both should shut up,” Taguchi yelled. “I can’t get my game finished-”
“Stay out of this,” both of them insisted and Nakamaru was there, trying to get between them.
God, back then he absolutely hated them.
“Jin, I’m not going to sing a song about ‘cumming in rooms’,” Ueda had said the moment Jin opened his mouth. “Shut it, a fly might go in.”
“Turtles?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Fish.”
“No.”
“Flying fish?”
“Did you, how do I say, just ‘go club, get drunk, you stupid shit’?”
“Fine, I’ll write something about caterpillars!”
Sometimes, he remembers.
A desperate phone call from Koki, that was the first one. And then Junno sent a frantic message-it was enough to set off the alarm bells because if Taguchi freaks out, then everyone should freak the fuck out.
Talk to him. Please. All the same, all the same. Short and sweet, meaning nothing and everything at the same time. Ueda’s always been good at jigsaws but sometimes Jin is the one puzzle he could never solve.
He quit being leader because he didn’t like games.
That time, he made a mistake.
“Stop pretending you care.” Kame’s cold, through and through and it’s not just his voice, it’s everything about him. “I don’t need you to pretend for me.” Maybe it’s just built into him.
“Let’s go home.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere with you.”
“That’s too bad.” He’s sharp on Kame, when he has to be. They could almost be the same, fussing and fretting about their foundation and their hair and then the next minute fighting over the flat iron because perfection means everything. He understands that much about Kame. “You have nowhere else to go. Jin-”
“Don’t say his name!”
Nishikido Ryo throws open the door, Yamashita behind him.
He smiles. He turns. Ueda leaves.
(He breaks.)
Koki answers the door. “Where did you go?” he demands gruffly. “You didn’t bring back food, you’re so thoughtless,” he complains because that’s Koki’s way of saying: I’m glad you didn’t run off and leave us without a word because you didn’t tell us where you were at all. “Kame’s sleeping.”
“Let’s all sleep,” Nakamaru suggests, nudging Ueda towards the bedroom. “You could use some rest, Leader,” he mocks.
Taguchi nods. “We’ll get a mental block from the blocking session tomorrow if we stay up any later,” he says with a grin.
Ueda’s king sized bed is big enough for them; his arm draped around Kame’s waist and Nakamaru’s back pressed against his-he can hear Koki trying to kick Taguchi who’s happily hogging the duvet. Idiots, they’re his idiots.
“Usually, someone should be naked,” Koki thinks out loud.
“Kameis naked,” Nakamaru points out.
“But he’s asleep. That’s no fun,” Taguchi murmurs.
“We are not having an orgy in my bed. I just changed the sheets.”
Jin, as it seemed, forgot to bring his pillow on tour. Sweet, little Jin who had hammered his fist against Ueda’s door frantically until Ueda’s unfortunate roommate (whoever it was back then) opened up, traded rooms with Jin and complained to Takki (who later scolded Jin the next morning for not coming to him first).
“I can’t sleep, my roommate has weird eyebrows,” he had hissed, crawling right into Ueda’s bed.
Maybe because Jin had been sixteen and still growing into his body, Ueda snorted in absolute disbelief and semi denial. “Jin, you’re a lanky kid who forgot to bring his pillow on tour when back dancing for senpai. Can I sleep now?”
“Thanks for sharing,” and that was meant to be the last thing they said that night.
It wasn’t.
“Ueda?”
“Yes, Jin?”
“Why do you call me Jin?” Jin had wondered-he had been so direct as well. “Everyone else has a nickname. Look at Tomo, everyone calls him Yamapi. And that acrobat kid, he’s Junno. There’s Kame-he’s the eyebrow kid I’m sharing with, but you don’t call me by a nickname. People call you Tatcchan sometimes.”
“Do you want people to call you Bakanishi? It can be done.”
“No.”
“Then?”
Jin had sighed-sadness never suited Jin, especially when he wasn’t so tarnished, when he was a kid with hopes and dreams. “Akanishi Jin.”
“It’s a winner name, right there.” Although, he had said it because Ueda desperately wanted to sleep.
“What if no one knows it?”
“All of Japan will know it one day, Jin.”
“I want the world to know it.”
“And they will.”
“But what about you?”
“I’ll be with you when it happens,” Ueda had promised, eyes heavy. “Only if you want me to be.”
Kame’s breakfasts are the best because he knows how to make the miso soup just right. It’s great with the raw egg on rice-perfect Japanese breakfast to start the day.
“So, about last night,” he says casually.
“I’ll pay you the hooker money next month,” Ueda drawls.
Kame whacks him over the head with the ladle.
There used to be a certain look in Jin’s eyes every time he thought he was being sneaky. Akanishi Jin is not sneaky. He’s as subtle as a sequin, sparkly and obvious. So when he thought he was being ninja, Jin had no idea that everyone knew what he was dragging Kame to the broom closet for because really, who has a ‘super secret discussion talk on bird watching’ in the janitor’s closet?
Everyone ignored it the first time.
The second time.
The tenth time.
It was on the thirty-eighth time that Ueda stopped counting.
He woke up ago with the sheets all over, the sun streaming through the windows and no one in his apartment. He woke up to his phone and frantic messages. He grabbed his keys and picked up the urgent call.
Ueda ran the wrong way.
Jin’s waiting for him in the locker room, turtle plushie stuffed haphazardly into his bag. “Ryo-chan said you dropped by last night,” he accuses, pointing a finger at Ueda because Jin has terrible timing and wants to talk about things when all five of them are coming to put their things away before they go to their blocking session.
It’s Kame that walks past Jin, opening up his locker and grabbing his rehearsal clothes. “We’re late,” he says to everyone but Jin.
Ueda mechanically follows. He’s not leader anymore.
“Why didn’t you come in?” Jin asks Ueda.
“Can you people get divorced another day, you’re blocking the doorway,” Nishikido snaps from behind The Shocked Great Wall of NTT.
“I would have been glad to see you. I thought you had no plans, I would have asked you to come in-”
Kame slams his locker closed.
Damage control, that’s what KAT-TUN does best with Nakamaru quietly telling Jin they can talk later, Taguchi quickly taking steps towards Kame-Koki’s already got a hand on his shoulder. Ueda watches and waits for Nishikido to say something.
“He’s always on his period,” Nishikido mutters to Jin.
Yamashita tries not to laugh.
Ueda slams his locker door.
“Or maybe it’s a disease. Mildly contagious.”
He can just ignore it, walking away. It’s not that much harder, being than Nishikido freaking Ryo who doesn’t know when to shut it. But Ueda’s not leader anymore. Ueda’s done his share of taking care of people. He’s given away his bed; he might have to give away Mouse Peace if that’s what it takes to hold KAT-TUN together-
Kame’s mouth is on his, stealing his breath. Kame’s hands mess up his perfectly styled hair (damnit) and Kame’s got him against the lockers, sucking out every bit of oxygen, making sure that everyone can see who Kame calls when he’s in trouble.
When he’s done, Kame walks away. He presses a kiss to Jin’s lips on the way out.
“Otsukare,” Ueda murmurs.
~
“It’s not my fault that you’re such a bad influence,” Jin had scolded but he was trying not to smile. But he never could hide it. He always smiled around Ueda. He wanted to be near him, of course he smiled. He was terrible back then, whenever it came to hiding his emotions. “You’re such a horrible senpai.”
“Am I now?” Ueda had murmured, slowly prying the cigarette from Jin’s fingers. “How so?”
Jin had laughed, face as close as possible. “You taught me bad things.” It had been a whisper, barely there with an inviting lilt in his eyes as he waited.
He can’t remember, how long it took until their mouths were crushed against each other and the cigarette was hurriedly extinguished and they were out of their pants and Ueda was pulling him right into the bed. Jin does remember how Ueda looked at him with that cool approval and how it sent a heat right to his stomach, pooling and liquid.
“I really will write it you know,” Jin had reminded, hips rocking and head thrown back. It already was taking up enough concentration, trying to figure out if he was doing it right (back then, he had been dependent on each and every encounter because he really was, honestly, a little boy-foolish). “And I’ll make sure you like it. It’ll be the best song I’ve ever written.”
“Why? What’s it going to be about, Jin?” Ueda had taunted as he tried to keep his breathing steady and show no signs of anything. His composure hadn’t been that good back then but still, it was Ueda.
He’s flawless, Jin would always recall.
“Something amazing,” he had promised.
Summer was when Ueda flew off to foreign places and came back with new hair and a new obsession. Or image. Or both.
Summer was when Jin and Yamapi ended up on the same shinkansen going to Osaka and Jin followed Yamapi around like a lost puppy because he didn’t know Osaka that well and then he met Ryo-chan and they ate lots of good food and Jin got a bit homesick and wished he could fly off to another place even though Tomo was really nice and Ryo-chan is kinda silly (and soft hearted). But that’s okay because they had lots of fun and Jin remembered to bring back Ueda a postcard.
“Thank you,” Ueda says, a hint of a smile.
Summer was when Ueda gave Jin a sparkly silver earring.
The night before Okinawa, Jin dragged Ueda out to the playground nearby his home (and only because Ueda promised Akanishi-mama that Jin would be safe. Really).
“I’m really excited!”
Ueda only patted him on the head. “Of course you are, you’ve wanted to go on a vacation for ages,” he smiled. The swing carried him back and forth gently. There are faint imprints left in the sand, Ueda’s shoes thrown carelessly near the swing set post.
Jin sat himself down on the swing as well. He pushed. Back. And forth. And back. And he laughed loudly. Wind whips in his ears and gradually, he slowed down. “We should go on vacation one day.”
“You said you wanted to write me a song-”
“You gave me an earring, didn’t you?” Jin accused.
“You’re not wearing it.”
“My mother will pretend to kill me during my father’s initial freak out. And then Reio will go out to get one and then they’ll yell some more and then no one will cook dinner and I have to eat cup ramen all by myself and I really don’t want that,” Jin explained in a single breath. Clearly, he has amazing logic and reasoning. “I’ll wear it soon. But are we a couple? You only gave me one. I can’t find the other.”
“Jin.”
He persisted. He wanted an answer. He didn’t want Ueda to just sit there. “You said if I got a piercing, we’d be a couple.”
“Do you want to be?”
“I just wanted to know,” Jin admitted sheepishly.
“Do you want to stay over?”
“What?”
“My place,” Ueda added, like he needed to make it any clearer what he was implying. “Come over. You already have your bag packed for tomorrow.”
Jin wolf whistled. “Are you instigating a scandal night of fun to stop me from running to Okinawa with someone else?” he mocked, jumping off his own swing. “Or is this about the song? You have to know, my artistic talent might be brilliant but you have to nurture-”
They tumbled with the sand that slid through the gaps of their clothing and into their hair. The evening chill didn’t deter them from play wrestling in the sand until Ueda had Jin on his back and gasping for mercy.
“Is this better than a beach?” Ueda asked imperiously from where he sat, straddling Jin.
“It’s no Okinawa,” Jin replied firmly. “But it’s I and you.”
“Use proper grammar.”
“You and I,” Jin corrected himself in heavily accented English.
“Like your non existent song?”
“Yeah.”
To be honest, the song was out of his mind when he dragged Kame off to Okinawa and they were forced to drink horrible bitter juice and wore stupid dorky t-shirts that had ‘Tsubasa Imai’ printed all over it in their messy handwriting.
Jin thought of giving his shirt to Ueda. He knew that Ueda still looked up to Tsubasa-kun.
“Are you angry at me?” Jin whispered when the cameraman finally left them alone for the night.
Kame was fast asleep. At least, he was pretending to be.
“I didn’t know that they’d take us here to be tortured,” Jin sort of apologised to Kame’s back, because he shouldn’t be sorry for something he didn’t plan. If he had a choice, he and Kame could swim all around the beach and he could go off and buy a nice souvenir for his family and Pi and maybe for Ryo if Ryo doesn’t call him fat again.
A fake snore.
“If it means anything, at least we’re together. It’s better to be together,” Jin whispered.
Kame turned, unzipping his sleeping bag. He glared, although it was kind of hard to tell with the darkness and all. Then he turned around and pretended to still be angry.
Jin grinned, tackling Kame into the biggest hug ever.
Kame was special-they couldn’t be boyfriends because the shock would probably give Kame’s grandmother a heart attack and Jin knew he wasn’t allowed to set a bad example for Reio. Really.
There’s something cute about the way Kame’s clothes hung off him because they were hand-me-downs and Jin never understood why Kame would always put baseball before everything else. But it’s Kame. Everything was to be amazing.
They didn’t kiss for a few years because of course, they were friends. Kissing, they didn’t do that as friends.
“Ryo-chan gives shitty comfort,” Jin sniffed over the phone.
“I’ll be over in ten,” Ueda promised.
They fell asleep on Jin’s parents couch with their hands in the popcorn bucket. Salty, entwined.
(Ueda never called him fat. That’s the best thing about Ueda.)
“So Ueda-kun is your friend?” Kame asked when they were getting changed out of sweaty practise clothes.
Jin nodded, draping an arm around Kame’s shoulder. “He’s my really close friend, he was here six months before we were so maybe you might want to call him Ueda-senpai until he’ll let you call him Ueda. But I just call him Ueda,” Jin explained like it was that simple. It really is because that’s how it was with him and Ueda.
Kame shied away. “You smell,” he replied, brows furrowed.
“Is that all you have to say?” Jin demanded, trying not to laugh. “Come on, let’s get a drink from the vending machine.”
They sipped cans of Calpis, sitting on the wooden floors together and neither of them spoke.
“Why did you ask?” Jin finally said, breaking the silence. He said it because he could guess the answer. He’s not stupid, despite what everyone liked to think. He’s friends with Ueda and he’s friends with Kame. Jin’s not an idiot. Really.
Kame just shrugged. “Curious.”
Jealous? “He’s really cool.”
“You spend a lot of time with him?”
“Of course, I spend lots of time with all my friends,” Jin grinned, nudging Kame in the ribs.
The big thing was when everyone whispered about a new unit. A dance unit that’ll get aired on television, the Juniors said behind the backs of the instructors and ignored Takki when he said that they shouldn’t believe everything they see on 2channel.
Jin desperately wanted to be picked.
KAT-TUN sounded just like cartoon in English and Jin thought it was kinda awesome because he could be in a group together with Kameand Ueda and some other people. That was until everyone took one look at each other and threw their bags down, then went shouting for their temporary manager because no one really liked each other.
Except for the guy with the nose (Nakamura, was it?) because he didn’t want people to fight. He just sat there and tried to maintain peace.
Jin only yelled because he wanted to stay in the group.
After three weeks of being stuck together, Jin noticed their manager left them a first aid kit in the dressing room. How thoughtful.
The worst part was when Ueda and Kame fought.
Jin hated that.
No, the worst part was when Kame blamed Ueda for any mistake that occurred. Or when Kame blamed anyone. Or when everyone started shouting because Kame was trying to be perfect and none of them could match up.
Jin found it annoying sometimes but he wanted to be the best as well. He didn’t really like the group sometimes because everyone fought and no one shared food and really, Ueda was unhappy but at the very least they were in a group and they were getting attention. That was the important part, to Jin at least.
It started becoming normal, the way he dragged Kame aside and gave him weird things like turtle keychains or Calpis or a baseball he found at the side of the road because that always put Kame in a good mood.
“He got a piercing,” Ueda said once when he and Jin were heading home, walking the same path.
Jin blinked. “Oh yeah. He said it didn’t hurt.”
“Mmm.”
“Ueda?”
“Yes, Jin?”
“Don’t leave, okay?”
“I hate it, Jin.”
“There are good things about it.”
“Really.”
“I’m there,” Jin insisted. “Whatchu worry? We alright. You and I.”
“Your English is still terrible.”
“I didn’t get to have lessons like you,” Jin mock sulked. But it was good because Ueda was smiling again under that mop of blonde hair and even if the blue contacts looked freaking in the evening light, Jin’s threw his arms around Ueda. He liked it when Ueda smiled.
Ryo-chan and Yamapi had no good advice. At all.
“Which one is Kame again?” Ryo-chan asked, face scrunched up in confusion.
“The really skinny one,” Yamapi explained, well versed in Jin’s many matters of the Ueda-versus-Kame-debacle-and-who-Jin-should-talk-to-first.
“They’re both skinny,” Ryo muttered, turning his attention back to the movie.
“Ueda’s blonde,” Jin said, if that helps.
“Oh. He’s annoying.”
Somehow, Ryo ended up with a bucketful of popcorn being dumped over his head.
“Kame!”
Kame was fast. He wrenched his arm out of Jin’s grip and stalked off like nobody’s business. His sneakers squeaked against the floor and his shoulders were square, back so ramrod straight he could balance a book on his head with that perfect posture. He walked off; pace quickening each time Jin called his name.
“I can keep up with you,” Jin threatened as he broke into a small sprint. “Kame!” he snapped once more, grabbing Kame and forcing him to turn. “Hey!”
“Go away,” Kame spat, shoving Jin back.
“Oh, now you want to fight me as well? As we ever do is fight in this group,” Jin sighed, exasperated.
“You fight with people as well,” Kame snapped.
“I don’t agitate them to the point of punching me,” Jin retorted. “And that was uncalled for, blaming Ueda for everything. You know that he’s not the best dancer and so what if Nakamaru makes a mistake-”
“A mistake will be noticed. Are you so stupid?” Kame snarled, shoving Jin once more. “Don’t you have a brain or is it lost under all that hair of yours?”
Jin gritted his teeth. “Let’s talk about this,” he replied evenly, dragging Kame off to a broom closet. The mop toppled out the moment he flung open the door. Somehow, they crammed themselves in with the smell of disinfectant so strong. “Okay, now talk,” Jin ordered when he finally found the light switch.
But no, Kame was too stubborn. Proud, even. He turned his head away, Ueda’s ugly bruise marring his jawbone and his cheek. It was getting a bit red and puffy would definitely need some ice. “Go away.”
“Do you hate Ueda?” Jin asked evenly, trying to handle this like a calm adult would.
“Yes,” Kame replied with a sharp glare.
“Why?”
“He’s dragging us down.”
“He’s in our group, Kame! He’s our friend.”
“He’s your friend!”
“And you’re my friend. So you’re both friends by default,” Jin snapped. End of conversation. He threw the closet open and stomped out before Kame could echo any protests. Jin didn’t want to hear it-he didn’t care anymore.
“Jin!”
And now it was Kame that ran after him. Good. Kame should do some running, Kame should-why are the footsteps not echoing?
“Jin, walk away and I’ll stop being your friend.”
He stopped. He turned. “Why?” Jin demanded, hands clenched into fists as he turned to look at Kame.
Kame’s eyes pierced right through him, all that adolescent pride and determination built up. “Because I’m better than that, Jin.”
(And even now, Jin still remembers how many steps he took until he reached Kame. He remembered that the first time they kissed, it tasted like bruised pride and everything bitter because Kame, that’s all Jin could get. Jin never forgets how they tripped and stumbled back to the broom closet. Perhaps Jin’s pride was broken as well.)
He figured it out, the way to stop Ueda and Kame from fighting.
Actually, Nakamura is Nakamaru and he’s pretty funny and dorky and awkward but Jin thought he was a good guy. Mainly because Nakamaru managed to be friends with everyone and come out without a black eye.
Jin found himself pulling Kame out of the fight, found himself shoving Ueda towards Nakamaru as he ran after Kame, found himself yelling at Taguchi to shut up because they already have a big ass crisis on their hands and Taguchi should pick up his own mess. Jin was lost.
Yamapi started mailing him everyday, reminding Jin to drink water and that it’ll turn out for the best.
Jin started saving the messages because he wanted to believe Pi so damn much.
Ryo bought Jin a stress ball.
The first time Kame stayed over, he found Jin’s packets of cigarettes immediately.
“You smoke?” Jin asked, offering one to Kame.
“No.”
He lit up. “Hm.” He exhales. “Try.” He placed the cigarette in Kame’s hands.
Kame’s coughing fit was the cutest thing Jin’s ever seen.
“Kame?”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
<- part 1 || -> part 3
From: reiicharu
Title: Cross a Great Divide
Pairing: past Jinda, past Akame, Kameda, past KoKamePi, Nakanishi, ShuKira
Rating: R for angst and sexual content and naked people
Warning:Slashy gen, humour, angst, drama, naked Yamapi, naked people in general, continuous Ryo-Jin banter, plushies.
Notes: tatoeba, I hope you enjoy!
Summary:It starts with the fact that yes, Koki’s apartment needs a clean out, then Nakamaru is caught in between, Taguchi makes puns, Ueda really wishes his band could be sane. Kame and Jin? Well, there’s a plushie involved somewhere.
part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4
Making it worldwide, that’s all part of Kame’s plan to make them unstoppable, invincible and absolutely amazing.
Ueda’s known that much since they were fresh wide eyed Juniors all thrown into a room by one of the Domotos and Johnny. He’s always known that Kame’s been the one to succeed, the one to push and the one to strive for perfection. Everything had been confirmed when Kame’s fists were flying and they tried to tear each other apart like stupid adolescents fighting over a mistake because they hated each other and had no way out.
“What are you thinking about?” Nakamaru asks, concerned.
It’s been a long day. All the cleaning, all the meetings and Ueda’s head is getting into a bit of a mess. Although, one thing remains quite clear.
“KAT-TUN,” Ueda answers honestly.
Nakamaru smiles.
They’ll take over the world, one day.
It’d been an option, once upon a time. Sparkle like a diamond and outshine everyone else.
He sees Jin in the spotlight, burning so brightly like a supernova.
On tour with MOUSEPEACE, with Five, Ueda had this tendency to get everyone together and hold a jamming session. It’s good for the work environment.
That and it’s an excuse to do a karaoke acoustic rendition of a Gackt song without someone filming it (Koki) and spreading it to the rest of the Jimusho and someone (Nishikido) taunting him about it two weeks later.
“It really hurts,” Jin had complained, huddled in a corner and a hand upped over his left ear. “Why didn’t you warn me it’d hurt so much?” he snapped, smacking Ueda on the shoulder with his other hand. “You never said it’d hurt.”
“I never told you to get a piercing,” Ueda drawled, sitting down next to Jin and offering him a candy bar.
Jin’s smile, back then, had been mega wattage at the sight of food.
“Doesn’t hurt anymore?” Ueda had smirked, shaking his head in disapproval. “My piercing didn’t hurt. Some people are just more susceptible to pain, that’s all. You just might be one of them.”
“Can you give me your earring when it’s healed up?” Jin asked, all wide eyed and in awe of the dangling earring that hangs from Ueda’s left lobe. “You bought it in a pair, didn’t you?”
“Jin, we’d just look like a couple.”
“What’s wrong with looking like a couple?”
“We aren’t a couple.”
“Oh.”
“Yes.”
“Can we be a couple?”
“Ueda?” Kame’s voice is raspy and slurred. “Ue. Ueda?” he tries again.
He sits up, flicking on Koki’s night lamp. “Kame, it’s three am.”
“Ueda, please.”
Ueda’s dragging everyone out of bed on the way out.
“We should totally write a song,” Koki suggested in Korea. “We need to write a song,” he insisted all the way from the studios to the hotel to the hotel bathhouse to their hotel rooms until he wore down Nakamaru and Taguchi.
Ueda went to shadow box in a corner, watching out of the corner of his eye as Koki tried his very best to wheedle Kame into agreeing that a song about chicks in Mexico would be a number one seller. When that idea didn’t work, Ueda tried his best not to laugh (loudly) when Koki suggested they write a song about being hot like dynamite.
“Where is the K in TNT?” Taguchi wondered out loud.
Koki smacked him over the head.
“Can I talk about a samurai in the song?” Kame asked carefully.
“I’m not sure if that’s what Koki had in mind,” Nakamaru said slowly. “He mentioned something else but I can’t remember.”
“What were you going to write about then?” Kame demanded with narrowed eyes. “I can’t agree to anything unless I know what I’m agreeing to.”
Koki stared. “Uhm.”
“Hito,” Taguchi shouted, ‘people’ in Japanese. “We’d be an instant hitto.”
“I’ll get some cold water,” Koki says the moment he opens the door. “Taguchi, can you get me some clean towels.”
“Ueda, can you help take him?” Nakamaru says, struggling with the protesting Kame. “Are you okay, Kame?” Nakamaru tries to ask loudly but he’s tripped over his own feet, falling hard on the shiny clean wooden floor.
Ueda manhandles him all the way to the bathroom.
“Good one,” he hears Koki snicker. “KAT-TUN’s next Olympian.” Koki also adds something about Nakamaru’s face but Ueda doesn’t really hear it.
Kame, as it would seem, doesn’t want to get undressed.
“Now if only you were like this on stage,” Ueda says wryly, smacking Kame’s hands away. “Let me get your shirt off so you don’t get it wet.”
“Make U Wet,” Kame laughs with silly giggles and a red flush. “Like Koki?”
“We are not going to discuss lyrics when you’re tipsy,” Ueda says firmly, stripping off Kame’s shirt and tossing it aside. “Get your pants off, get into the shower.”
“Could write a song,” Kame mutters, shoving Ueda back and dumping himself into a corner. He lets his head loll back, a muffled thud when he hits the wall. “Get your pants off, getting wet and then management will censor it and add in a sparkly metaphor about warming your heart, getting your lower half hot. Then we’ll sing it, dance and then wear something shiny.”
Ueda rolls his eyes. “Kame, get into the shower.”
“Ueda, I’m tired.”
“I know.”
Kame gets into shower.
Singles stack up, reaching the sky but never hitting a limit. PVs need to be filmed, rehearsals need to be scheduled and all this on top of their concert planning because after five years, they need to be spectacular or else what will people remember when they think of KAT-TUN?
Ueda touches the Polaroid in his locker.
They had been sprawled over a couch-Nakamaru complained about the beer stains from when a tipsy Jin tackled Ueda who tripped into Kame who fell onto Koki who knocked Taguchi over who accidentally shoved Nakamaru down onto the couch. Takki had walked in at the right moment and click went the shutter.
He looks at the photo sticking next to it.
Five of them, sitting on someone’s bed in Korea-M!Countdown had been exhausting but they had known. This is it, they’ve come this far. That and Kame always had the best room, the biggest bed and even though he would complain, they loved sharing with him.
He sees lavender fields in a postcard.
On masking tape, holding up the postcard is Jin’s messy scrawl. SEPARATE BEDS, it reminds Ueda every time whenever he opens his locker.
Ueda’s locker smells like potpourri because Koki keeps giving him satchels of it (never mind that Koki’s mother keeps giving it to all the Tanaka brothers and Koki wouldn’t be caught dead with the stuff in his locker full of graffiti and bling).
His locker probably speaks volumes because Taguchi’s the one who left a small frog plushie in there, ages ago.
(“Uepi is like a frog prince! He transformed into something beautiful!”
“Who kissed me?”
“I can kiss you now if you no one kissed you.”
“No.”)
He closes the door to the fairytale, remembering that he’s not blonde anymore and that the world is waiting for him.
“Ueda?”
“Jin,” he greets and he does it with a whole heart and an honest smile.
“Kame hates me,” Jin says quietly, like always.
“He doesn’t hate you,” Ueda promises, every time.
“Can we talk?” Jin asks.
“I’m going to the gym.”
Jin drives them. His car smells like a late night out and there’s a sports bag dumped in the backseat, the sneakers spilling out with the sweaty trackpants and Yellow Gold tour shirt that could probably use another wash and some bleach. He’s been lazy.
“He doesn’t hate you,” Ueda says, breaking the silence when he’s wrapping his hands.
Jin sits against a wall, turtle plushie balanced on his knees. “He does,” he whines-it’s cute. “He probably has a voodoo doll and sticks pins into it every five seconds because he’s spiteful like that,” he adds like he’s seen said voodoo doll.
“Because he has so much time on his off days that he can be bothered to make a voodoo doll?”
Jin glares at the turtle plushie.
“Exactly.”
“But-”
“Jin, anything you say will turn out stupid so think before you speak,” Ueda advises.
“How did you get to work today?” Jin mumbles through his bangs.
“Stayed over at someone’s place. We’ve all been staying over. Cleaning, not that you’d know the idea of it.” It never ceases to amuse him, the sound of Jin’s outraged splutter of being left out. “We were doing a clean up for Koki because Juri would be staying with him for a few days. Although Koki’s a man, there’s no reason for his little brother to live in a pigsty, is there? And before you ask, Juri-kun just misses hanging out with Koki so we all decided to help the guy because god knows if the man even owns a vacuum cleaner.” There. A half truth.
“That was just the first time,” Jin protests feebly.
“And in your case, your landlord was paying you a visit,” Ueda recalls with a smile. “And you swallowed a dust bunny.”
“I didn’t swallow it! It just ended up in my mouth. Wait, that sounded so much better in my head.”
“Like I said, think before you speak.”
“Shut up, Uebo.” Jin huddles with his turtle plushie.
They stood side by side, their fans’ cheers roaring so loud but a world away. They stood on the platform with their fur coats and sunglasses, almost ready to take off. Their guitars weighed them down; their hopes kept them afloat.
It wasn’t just a dream.
“I want to write a song,” Jin once said, determination built up. “I could write amazing songs,” he had insisted. Back then, his hair had been fluffier than clouds, making it a bit hard to take him seriously.
“You also wanted a piercing and you wanted to learn how to smoke. Honestly, this could be the most sensible suggestion you’ve ever made. And that’s why I’m not taking it seriously.”
“I can so write a song.” It had been cute, the way Jin puffed up with indignation, fuelled by Ueda’s careless drawls and dismissive (well meaning) doubt. “You’ll see,” Jin had insisted, crawling off the bed and across the floor. “I’ll make you listen to it.” Because back then, Jin thought looking Ueda right in the eyes would be intimidating.
“Sure,” Ueda had laughed, shaking his head.
“Besides, you were the one who taught me how to smoke.”
The gym is his sanity in the middle of a busy schedule because touring and planning is never easy and he can find a gym in every hotel and city he stays in. It’s convenient.
After the gym, he gets another slurry phonecall that takes him down to a bar where Kame’s holding tight onto a glass of whiskey that’s almost completely drained save for a little bit left, pooling all around the ice.
“Kame, Kame, Kame,” Ueda sighs before dialling Nakamaru, then Koki, then Taguchi.
“Have a drink,” Kame insists whilst looking at him through unseeing eyes. “Drink with me.”
“No, Kame.”
“No, you should,” Kame snaps. “Celebrate. We should celebrate with champagne.”
He orders, ignoring Ueda’s protests because no one can stop Kame because really, Kame’s a force of nature. He orders champagne that bubbles in the tall flutes the bartender pushes to them even if the place is low lit and rather sleazy. But yes, champagne because Dom Perignon’sKame’s pick of poison.
“Have you finished killing your liver yet?” Ueda asks testily, half a glass later.
Kame guzzles it down, almost like fine wine but the malicious glint flickers through his eyes. “Does it matter? It’s a party, take a shot.”
That’s under the belt, Kamenashi.
“Can you take him to my place first?” Ueda asks when Koki turns up with one sleepy Nakamaru. “Taguchi’s driving, right? Take him to my place first.”
“What, then what about you?” Nakamaru yawns as he struggles to hold up one clearly tipsy Kame.
Ueda examines all his leftover champagne, smiling thinly. “Do you really think this is going to end well?”
“Ueda,” Koki says warily. “What are you planning?”
“I’m being Leader, what else am I doing?”
Lavender fields-still-calmed him down. There was something ethereal, the delicate scent that wafted around with small purple buds that peeked out of brown stalks. And they always grew up. Then they were harvested. Then they froze through the winter.
But maybe Nakamaru knew there’d always be a next time, in spring perhaps when they regrew to be harvested once more. Perhaps that was reason enough for Nakamaru to book trips to Hokkaido or anywhere in Japan that had endless stretches of strawberries or lavender.
“Where are we going this time?”
“Raspberry picking,” Nakamaru laughed. “You can put down the window if you want.”
The wind slipped through his hands, cool and unsubstantial.
“Do you think-”
“Separate rooms, you wanted that much, right?” Nakamaru said.
Ueda closed his eyes, trying to touch the wind. “Thank you.”
“Let me help you.”
“It’s too complicated.”
“It always will be.” Nakamaru parked. Narita was in front of them. Waiting, almost. “You know, you can put aside your pride and your hurt.”
Ueda snorted and gave a small shake of his head. “You should say that to someone else, not me,” he murmured. The soft drumming of his fingers on the dashboard, there was no rhythm. Ueda just needed to think. Somehow. “Of course, to hear, one has to listen,” he thought out loud with mirthless laugh. “Would you listen?”
He’s outside Jin’s apartment.
This could be a bad idea. Maybe it is. That and there’s the chance of Yamashita being home. Ueda has nothing against Jin’s roommate and Japan’s favourite idol but the truth is that he hardly speaks to Yamashita. He wouldn’t know what to say if they run into each other.
Ueda kills the engine. It makes no sense, driving over for no reason and without a warning.
He starts the engine.
Jin stood there, bags packed and hair a mess. “I. My mother said. You. Can I.”
Ueda stepped aside to let Jin into the apartment. “Should I get you a drink?” Ueda asked gently even though was trying his best not to break out the masking tape and rope so he could tie Jin to a chair so he’d miss his flight to America the next morning. But Ueda knew that’d be the wrong thing to do (and it’s also illegal) so he waited for Jin to put his shoes away.
“Can I leave this here?” Jin asked, nodding to his bags.
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
“Ueda-”
“I might get some water,” Jin mumbled in a rush. He darted past Ueda, right into the kitchen. Soft banging of the cupboards, the running of a tap and it was good that Jin wasn’t drinking. He shouldn’t get onto a plane with a hangover-that’d be stupid and Jin’s smarter than that.
He wanted to take Jin’s bags so they could be set on fire. He can’t go to LA without his essentials. Or maybe temporary ‘borrow’ Jin’s passport but diabolical plans not only made Ueda seem like a psychopath but if he was so desperate, actions would hinder more than help. Besides, this isn’t Ueda’s choice. And he made his decision to support Jin-
Shattered.
“Jin?” Ueda asked from the kitchen doorway.
“I’ll clean it up,” Jin insisted, crouching down to pick up the broken mug. “I’m sorry, I’ll clean it up for you. I’m already intruding.”
“Use a vacuum, not your hand. You’ll cut yourself.” Too late.
Jin stared as the mess of porcelain and the small droplets of blood on his finger. He stared and he stared and perhaps crickets chirped in the background. But Jin kept staring. “I’ll fix the mug with super glue. I’m sorry, it must have been expensive.”
Ueda sighed and found Jin a bandaid and some antiseptic. “Small sting,” he warned after getting the wound flushed out with water. He ignored the warmth of Jin’s palms, the way Jin’s hands shook when the small bite of the antiseptic sunk in. There, the bandaid was on. He let go.
“It’s not fixed,” Jin realised.
“What? It’s just a mug.”
“Sometimes, a bandaid can’t fix it. Not even superglue.”
Ueda took Jin’s hand in his and kissed the wound through the bandaid.
They said nothing more.
Taguchi calls. “Uepi,” he sings into the phone. “Come back,” he requests gently.
“Is everything okay? What did you destroy in my penthouse?”
“Nothing,” Taguchi replies. “Just, we want you back.”
“I just went for a drive.”
“But it’s better, when all of us are together.”
Ueda disconnects, turning the car around.
They met when they were children. Of course, they thought they were kings of their respective worlds; cocky little teenagers that still had yet to fill out their shoulders and their limbs still lanky and waiting for puberty to throw them a growth spurt.
They were kids. They made mistakes. All of them.
“I’m not you!” He shouted words like that because they were true. His pride was hurt. Ueda had his pride, Ueda was older, Ueda was senpai by six freaking months, Ueda-
“Well, maybe that’s the problem,” stupid little Kame yelled back. Kame’s face needed a fist in it.
It took the other four to tear them away and there were injuries as well.
Why didn’t you take my side, Ueda wanted to shout at Jin, stupid Jin who dragged Kame off into the corridor, to calm him down. He couldn’t shout when Jin was with Kame because Jin cares about Kame and because Ueda cares about Jin-
“What do you want?” Maybe he lashed out at Nakamaru because no one was helping. Nakamaru sat there, behind Taguchi who plays with his GameBoy.
“Haven’t you done enough shitty damage already?” Koki snapped. “You hit the youngest, now you want a round two?”
“It's his fault.” Words, they’ve always hurt.
Koki stood up. “You take it back.”
“You take it back.”
“You both should shut up,” Taguchi yelled. “I can’t get my game finished-”
“Stay out of this,” both of them insisted and Nakamaru was there, trying to get between them.
God, back then he absolutely hated them.
“Jin, I’m not going to sing a song about ‘cumming in rooms’,” Ueda had said the moment Jin opened his mouth. “Shut it, a fly might go in.”
“Turtles?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Fish.”
“No.”
“Flying fish?”
“Did you, how do I say, just ‘go club, get drunk, you stupid shit’?”
“Fine, I’ll write something about caterpillars!”
Sometimes, he remembers.
A desperate phone call from Koki, that was the first one. And then Junno sent a frantic message-it was enough to set off the alarm bells because if Taguchi freaks out, then everyone should freak the fuck out.
Talk to him. Please. All the same, all the same. Short and sweet, meaning nothing and everything at the same time. Ueda’s always been good at jigsaws but sometimes Jin is the one puzzle he could never solve.
He quit being leader because he didn’t like games.
That time, he made a mistake.
“Stop pretending you care.” Kame’s cold, through and through and it’s not just his voice, it’s everything about him. “I don’t need you to pretend for me.” Maybe it’s just built into him.
“Let’s go home.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere with you.”
“That’s too bad.” He’s sharp on Kame, when he has to be. They could almost be the same, fussing and fretting about their foundation and their hair and then the next minute fighting over the flat iron because perfection means everything. He understands that much about Kame. “You have nowhere else to go. Jin-”
“Don’t say his name!”
Nishikido Ryo throws open the door, Yamashita behind him.
He smiles. He turns. Ueda leaves.
(He breaks.)
Koki answers the door. “Where did you go?” he demands gruffly. “You didn’t bring back food, you’re so thoughtless,” he complains because that’s Koki’s way of saying: I’m glad you didn’t run off and leave us without a word because you didn’t tell us where you were at all. “Kame’s sleeping.”
“Let’s all sleep,” Nakamaru suggests, nudging Ueda towards the bedroom. “You could use some rest, Leader,” he mocks.
Taguchi nods. “We’ll get a mental block from the blocking session tomorrow if we stay up any later,” he says with a grin.
Ueda’s king sized bed is big enough for them; his arm draped around Kame’s waist and Nakamaru’s back pressed against his-he can hear Koki trying to kick Taguchi who’s happily hogging the duvet. Idiots, they’re his idiots.
“Usually, someone should be naked,” Koki thinks out loud.
“Kameis naked,” Nakamaru points out.
“But he’s asleep. That’s no fun,” Taguchi murmurs.
“We are not having an orgy in my bed. I just changed the sheets.”
Jin, as it seemed, forgot to bring his pillow on tour. Sweet, little Jin who had hammered his fist against Ueda’s door frantically until Ueda’s unfortunate roommate (whoever it was back then) opened up, traded rooms with Jin and complained to Takki (who later scolded Jin the next morning for not coming to him first).
“I can’t sleep, my roommate has weird eyebrows,” he had hissed, crawling right into Ueda’s bed.
Maybe because Jin had been sixteen and still growing into his body, Ueda snorted in absolute disbelief and semi denial. “Jin, you’re a lanky kid who forgot to bring his pillow on tour when back dancing for senpai. Can I sleep now?”
“Thanks for sharing,” and that was meant to be the last thing they said that night.
It wasn’t.
“Ueda?”
“Yes, Jin?”
“Why do you call me Jin?” Jin had wondered-he had been so direct as well. “Everyone else has a nickname. Look at Tomo, everyone calls him Yamapi. And that acrobat kid, he’s Junno. There’s Kame-he’s the eyebrow kid I’m sharing with, but you don’t call me by a nickname. People call you Tatcchan sometimes.”
“Do you want people to call you Bakanishi? It can be done.”
“No.”
“Then?”
Jin had sighed-sadness never suited Jin, especially when he wasn’t so tarnished, when he was a kid with hopes and dreams. “Akanishi Jin.”
“It’s a winner name, right there.” Although, he had said it because Ueda desperately wanted to sleep.
“What if no one knows it?”
“All of Japan will know it one day, Jin.”
“I want the world to know it.”
“And they will.”
“But what about you?”
“I’ll be with you when it happens,” Ueda had promised, eyes heavy. “Only if you want me to be.”
Kame’s breakfasts are the best because he knows how to make the miso soup just right. It’s great with the raw egg on rice-perfect Japanese breakfast to start the day.
“So, about last night,” he says casually.
“I’ll pay you the hooker money next month,” Ueda drawls.
Kame whacks him over the head with the ladle.
There used to be a certain look in Jin’s eyes every time he thought he was being sneaky. Akanishi Jin is not sneaky. He’s as subtle as a sequin, sparkly and obvious. So when he thought he was being ninja, Jin had no idea that everyone knew what he was dragging Kame to the broom closet for because really, who has a ‘super secret discussion talk on bird watching’ in the janitor’s closet?
Everyone ignored it the first time.
The second time.
The tenth time.
It was on the thirty-eighth time that Ueda stopped counting.
He woke up ago with the sheets all over, the sun streaming through the windows and no one in his apartment. He woke up to his phone and frantic messages. He grabbed his keys and picked up the urgent call.
Ueda ran the wrong way.
Jin’s waiting for him in the locker room, turtle plushie stuffed haphazardly into his bag. “Ryo-chan said you dropped by last night,” he accuses, pointing a finger at Ueda because Jin has terrible timing and wants to talk about things when all five of them are coming to put their things away before they go to their blocking session.
It’s Kame that walks past Jin, opening up his locker and grabbing his rehearsal clothes. “We’re late,” he says to everyone but Jin.
Ueda mechanically follows. He’s not leader anymore.
“Why didn’t you come in?” Jin asks Ueda.
“Can you people get divorced another day, you’re blocking the doorway,” Nishikido snaps from behind The Shocked Great Wall of NTT.
“I would have been glad to see you. I thought you had no plans, I would have asked you to come in-”
Kame slams his locker closed.
Damage control, that’s what KAT-TUN does best with Nakamaru quietly telling Jin they can talk later, Taguchi quickly taking steps towards Kame-Koki’s already got a hand on his shoulder. Ueda watches and waits for Nishikido to say something.
“He’s always on his period,” Nishikido mutters to Jin.
Yamashita tries not to laugh.
Ueda slams his locker door.
“Or maybe it’s a disease. Mildly contagious.”
He can just ignore it, walking away. It’s not that much harder, being than Nishikido freaking Ryo who doesn’t know when to shut it. But Ueda’s not leader anymore. Ueda’s done his share of taking care of people. He’s given away his bed; he might have to give away Mouse Peace if that’s what it takes to hold KAT-TUN together-
Kame’s mouth is on his, stealing his breath. Kame’s hands mess up his perfectly styled hair (damnit) and Kame’s got him against the lockers, sucking out every bit of oxygen, making sure that everyone can see who Kame calls when he’s in trouble.
When he’s done, Kame walks away. He presses a kiss to Jin’s lips on the way out.
“Otsukare,” Ueda murmurs.
~
“It’s not my fault that you’re such a bad influence,” Jin had scolded but he was trying not to smile. But he never could hide it. He always smiled around Ueda. He wanted to be near him, of course he smiled. He was terrible back then, whenever it came to hiding his emotions. “You’re such a horrible senpai.”
“Am I now?” Ueda had murmured, slowly prying the cigarette from Jin’s fingers. “How so?”
Jin had laughed, face as close as possible. “You taught me bad things.” It had been a whisper, barely there with an inviting lilt in his eyes as he waited.
He can’t remember, how long it took until their mouths were crushed against each other and the cigarette was hurriedly extinguished and they were out of their pants and Ueda was pulling him right into the bed. Jin does remember how Ueda looked at him with that cool approval and how it sent a heat right to his stomach, pooling and liquid.
“I really will write it you know,” Jin had reminded, hips rocking and head thrown back. It already was taking up enough concentration, trying to figure out if he was doing it right (back then, he had been dependent on each and every encounter because he really was, honestly, a little boy-foolish). “And I’ll make sure you like it. It’ll be the best song I’ve ever written.”
“Why? What’s it going to be about, Jin?” Ueda had taunted as he tried to keep his breathing steady and show no signs of anything. His composure hadn’t been that good back then but still, it was Ueda.
He’s flawless, Jin would always recall.
“Something amazing,” he had promised.
Summer was when Ueda flew off to foreign places and came back with new hair and a new obsession. Or image. Or both.
Summer was when Jin and Yamapi ended up on the same shinkansen going to Osaka and Jin followed Yamapi around like a lost puppy because he didn’t know Osaka that well and then he met Ryo-chan and they ate lots of good food and Jin got a bit homesick and wished he could fly off to another place even though Tomo was really nice and Ryo-chan is kinda silly (and soft hearted). But that’s okay because they had lots of fun and Jin remembered to bring back Ueda a postcard.
“Thank you,” Ueda says, a hint of a smile.
Summer was when Ueda gave Jin a sparkly silver earring.
The night before Okinawa, Jin dragged Ueda out to the playground nearby his home (and only because Ueda promised Akanishi-mama that Jin would be safe. Really).
“I’m really excited!”
Ueda only patted him on the head. “Of course you are, you’ve wanted to go on a vacation for ages,” he smiled. The swing carried him back and forth gently. There are faint imprints left in the sand, Ueda’s shoes thrown carelessly near the swing set post.
Jin sat himself down on the swing as well. He pushed. Back. And forth. And back. And he laughed loudly. Wind whips in his ears and gradually, he slowed down. “We should go on vacation one day.”
“You said you wanted to write me a song-”
“You gave me an earring, didn’t you?” Jin accused.
“You’re not wearing it.”
“My mother will pretend to kill me during my father’s initial freak out. And then Reio will go out to get one and then they’ll yell some more and then no one will cook dinner and I have to eat cup ramen all by myself and I really don’t want that,” Jin explained in a single breath. Clearly, he has amazing logic and reasoning. “I’ll wear it soon. But are we a couple? You only gave me one. I can’t find the other.”
“Jin.”
He persisted. He wanted an answer. He didn’t want Ueda to just sit there. “You said if I got a piercing, we’d be a couple.”
“Do you want to be?”
“I just wanted to know,” Jin admitted sheepishly.
“Do you want to stay over?”
“What?”
“My place,” Ueda added, like he needed to make it any clearer what he was implying. “Come over. You already have your bag packed for tomorrow.”
Jin wolf whistled. “Are you instigating a scandal night of fun to stop me from running to Okinawa with someone else?” he mocked, jumping off his own swing. “Or is this about the song? You have to know, my artistic talent might be brilliant but you have to nurture-”
They tumbled with the sand that slid through the gaps of their clothing and into their hair. The evening chill didn’t deter them from play wrestling in the sand until Ueda had Jin on his back and gasping for mercy.
“Is this better than a beach?” Ueda asked imperiously from where he sat, straddling Jin.
“It’s no Okinawa,” Jin replied firmly. “But it’s I and you.”
“Use proper grammar.”
“You and I,” Jin corrected himself in heavily accented English.
“Like your non existent song?”
“Yeah.”
To be honest, the song was out of his mind when he dragged Kame off to Okinawa and they were forced to drink horrible bitter juice and wore stupid dorky t-shirts that had ‘Tsubasa Imai’ printed all over it in their messy handwriting.
Jin thought of giving his shirt to Ueda. He knew that Ueda still looked up to Tsubasa-kun.
“Are you angry at me?” Jin whispered when the cameraman finally left them alone for the night.
Kame was fast asleep. At least, he was pretending to be.
“I didn’t know that they’d take us here to be tortured,” Jin sort of apologised to Kame’s back, because he shouldn’t be sorry for something he didn’t plan. If he had a choice, he and Kame could swim all around the beach and he could go off and buy a nice souvenir for his family and Pi and maybe for Ryo if Ryo doesn’t call him fat again.
A fake snore.
“If it means anything, at least we’re together. It’s better to be together,” Jin whispered.
Kame turned, unzipping his sleeping bag. He glared, although it was kind of hard to tell with the darkness and all. Then he turned around and pretended to still be angry.
Jin grinned, tackling Kame into the biggest hug ever.
Kame was special-they couldn’t be boyfriends because the shock would probably give Kame’s grandmother a heart attack and Jin knew he wasn’t allowed to set a bad example for Reio. Really.
There’s something cute about the way Kame’s clothes hung off him because they were hand-me-downs and Jin never understood why Kame would always put baseball before everything else. But it’s Kame. Everything was to be amazing.
They didn’t kiss for a few years because of course, they were friends. Kissing, they didn’t do that as friends.
“Ryo-chan gives shitty comfort,” Jin sniffed over the phone.
“I’ll be over in ten,” Ueda promised.
They fell asleep on Jin’s parents couch with their hands in the popcorn bucket. Salty, entwined.
(Ueda never called him fat. That’s the best thing about Ueda.)
“So Ueda-kun is your friend?” Kame asked when they were getting changed out of sweaty practise clothes.
Jin nodded, draping an arm around Kame’s shoulder. “He’s my really close friend, he was here six months before we were so maybe you might want to call him Ueda-senpai until he’ll let you call him Ueda. But I just call him Ueda,” Jin explained like it was that simple. It really is because that’s how it was with him and Ueda.
Kame shied away. “You smell,” he replied, brows furrowed.
“Is that all you have to say?” Jin demanded, trying not to laugh. “Come on, let’s get a drink from the vending machine.”
They sipped cans of Calpis, sitting on the wooden floors together and neither of them spoke.
“Why did you ask?” Jin finally said, breaking the silence. He said it because he could guess the answer. He’s not stupid, despite what everyone liked to think. He’s friends with Ueda and he’s friends with Kame. Jin’s not an idiot. Really.
Kame just shrugged. “Curious.”
Jealous? “He’s really cool.”
“You spend a lot of time with him?”
“Of course, I spend lots of time with all my friends,” Jin grinned, nudging Kame in the ribs.
The big thing was when everyone whispered about a new unit. A dance unit that’ll get aired on television, the Juniors said behind the backs of the instructors and ignored Takki when he said that they shouldn’t believe everything they see on 2channel.
Jin desperately wanted to be picked.
KAT-TUN sounded just like cartoon in English and Jin thought it was kinda awesome because he could be in a group together with Kameand Ueda and some other people. That was until everyone took one look at each other and threw their bags down, then went shouting for their temporary manager because no one really liked each other.
Except for the guy with the nose (Nakamura, was it?) because he didn’t want people to fight. He just sat there and tried to maintain peace.
Jin only yelled because he wanted to stay in the group.
After three weeks of being stuck together, Jin noticed their manager left them a first aid kit in the dressing room. How thoughtful.
The worst part was when Ueda and Kame fought.
Jin hated that.
No, the worst part was when Kame blamed Ueda for any mistake that occurred. Or when Kame blamed anyone. Or when everyone started shouting because Kame was trying to be perfect and none of them could match up.
Jin found it annoying sometimes but he wanted to be the best as well. He didn’t really like the group sometimes because everyone fought and no one shared food and really, Ueda was unhappy but at the very least they were in a group and they were getting attention. That was the important part, to Jin at least.
It started becoming normal, the way he dragged Kame aside and gave him weird things like turtle keychains or Calpis or a baseball he found at the side of the road because that always put Kame in a good mood.
“He got a piercing,” Ueda said once when he and Jin were heading home, walking the same path.
Jin blinked. “Oh yeah. He said it didn’t hurt.”
“Mmm.”
“Ueda?”
“Yes, Jin?”
“Don’t leave, okay?”
“I hate it, Jin.”
“There are good things about it.”
“Really.”
“I’m there,” Jin insisted. “Whatchu worry? We alright. You and I.”
“Your English is still terrible.”
“I didn’t get to have lessons like you,” Jin mock sulked. But it was good because Ueda was smiling again under that mop of blonde hair and even if the blue contacts looked freaking in the evening light, Jin’s threw his arms around Ueda. He liked it when Ueda smiled.
Ryo-chan and Yamapi had no good advice. At all.
“Which one is Kame again?” Ryo-chan asked, face scrunched up in confusion.
“The really skinny one,” Yamapi explained, well versed in Jin’s many matters of the Ueda-versus-Kame-debacle-and-who-Jin-should-talk-to-first.
“They’re both skinny,” Ryo muttered, turning his attention back to the movie.
“Ueda’s blonde,” Jin said, if that helps.
“Oh. He’s annoying.”
Somehow, Ryo ended up with a bucketful of popcorn being dumped over his head.
“Kame!”
Kame was fast. He wrenched his arm out of Jin’s grip and stalked off like nobody’s business. His sneakers squeaked against the floor and his shoulders were square, back so ramrod straight he could balance a book on his head with that perfect posture. He walked off; pace quickening each time Jin called his name.
“I can keep up with you,” Jin threatened as he broke into a small sprint. “Kame!” he snapped once more, grabbing Kame and forcing him to turn. “Hey!”
“Go away,” Kame spat, shoving Jin back.
“Oh, now you want to fight me as well? As we ever do is fight in this group,” Jin sighed, exasperated.
“You fight with people as well,” Kame snapped.
“I don’t agitate them to the point of punching me,” Jin retorted. “And that was uncalled for, blaming Ueda for everything. You know that he’s not the best dancer and so what if Nakamaru makes a mistake-”
“A mistake will be noticed. Are you so stupid?” Kame snarled, shoving Jin once more. “Don’t you have a brain or is it lost under all that hair of yours?”
Jin gritted his teeth. “Let’s talk about this,” he replied evenly, dragging Kame off to a broom closet. The mop toppled out the moment he flung open the door. Somehow, they crammed themselves in with the smell of disinfectant so strong. “Okay, now talk,” Jin ordered when he finally found the light switch.
But no, Kame was too stubborn. Proud, even. He turned his head away, Ueda’s ugly bruise marring his jawbone and his cheek. It was getting a bit red and puffy would definitely need some ice. “Go away.”
“Do you hate Ueda?” Jin asked evenly, trying to handle this like a calm adult would.
“Yes,” Kame replied with a sharp glare.
“Why?”
“He’s dragging us down.”
“He’s in our group, Kame! He’s our friend.”
“He’s your friend!”
“And you’re my friend. So you’re both friends by default,” Jin snapped. End of conversation. He threw the closet open and stomped out before Kame could echo any protests. Jin didn’t want to hear it-he didn’t care anymore.
“Jin!”
And now it was Kame that ran after him. Good. Kame should do some running, Kame should-why are the footsteps not echoing?
“Jin, walk away and I’ll stop being your friend.”
He stopped. He turned. “Why?” Jin demanded, hands clenched into fists as he turned to look at Kame.
Kame’s eyes pierced right through him, all that adolescent pride and determination built up. “Because I’m better than that, Jin.”
(And even now, Jin still remembers how many steps he took until he reached Kame. He remembered that the first time they kissed, it tasted like bruised pride and everything bitter because Kame, that’s all Jin could get. Jin never forgets how they tripped and stumbled back to the broom closet. Perhaps Jin’s pride was broken as well.)
He figured it out, the way to stop Ueda and Kame from fighting.
Actually, Nakamura is Nakamaru and he’s pretty funny and dorky and awkward but Jin thought he was a good guy. Mainly because Nakamaru managed to be friends with everyone and come out without a black eye.
Jin found himself pulling Kame out of the fight, found himself shoving Ueda towards Nakamaru as he ran after Kame, found himself yelling at Taguchi to shut up because they already have a big ass crisis on their hands and Taguchi should pick up his own mess. Jin was lost.
Yamapi started mailing him everyday, reminding Jin to drink water and that it’ll turn out for the best.
Jin started saving the messages because he wanted to believe Pi so damn much.
Ryo bought Jin a stress ball.
The first time Kame stayed over, he found Jin’s packets of cigarettes immediately.
“You smoke?” Jin asked, offering one to Kame.
“No.”
He lit up. “Hm.” He exhales. “Try.” He placed the cigarette in Kame’s hands.
Kame’s coughing fit was the cutest thing Jin’s ever seen.
“Kame?”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
<- part 1 || -> part 3