Life For Rent: Out of Sight, Out of Mind - PG-13, KoyamaPi
title: Out of Sight, Out of Mind
author: nihongofrancais
genre: RPS, NEWS
pairing: Koyama/YamaPi
rating: PG-13
word count: 8,583 words
summary: AU Future. When NEWS broke up in 2007, Koyama left the jimusho for a normal life, hoping to forget his failures. One can never really, truly forget though.
author's notes: see here.
As the computer's screen went to black, Koyama stood up from his desk chair and pushed it beneath his tidily kept desk-every binder standing straight in their given slot, every paper clip sitting in their little tray, his desk calendar already turned to tomorrow's page. "otsukaresama deshita!"
The varied voices of his colleagues from across the small office took a moment to return the farewell greeting before diving into their own work at hand. "otsukaresama deshita."
One of the new employees-a cute, young girl just out of junior college-emerged from the meeting room, a tray of empty coffee cups in hand, as Koyama headed for the doors. "You're leaving already, Koyama-san?"
He smiled kindly at her and nodded his head. What was her name again? Miyagi-san? Miyamoto-san? "I had an early appointment with a client this morning, so I'm done for today."
"Oh." The young girl took in his words and then started excitedly. "Well, some of the other girls were planning to go to dinner in a little bit; do you want to come?"
All the new girls were like this their first few months with the company. They recognized him for what he once was, the vague connections that his history gave him, and wanted to get to know him. Or get into his pants. Either way, their interest in him never was quite sincere, stopping at the thought of a brush with celebrity, and as soon as they realized he was not all that special anymore-perhaps never even was-they quickly dropped their pursuit.
Miyagi/Miyamoto-san would be the same.
"I'll have to pass," he simply offered, stepping past the petite girl and pushing through the glass doors out into the breezy May evening.
Koyama glanced at his plain silver wristwatch as he walked down the sidewalk toward the train station, the setting sun on the horizon. A quarter after seven. He had made good time-only two hours of overtime today.
Tugging on the knot of his red tie, he loosened it slightly. Even after five years of this monotonous life-where he wore a suit, did the morning company pledge, and seemed to only bow his head to clients and superiors day in and day out-he had not become used to the ties. The knot was rather restricting, choking even.
A familiar face on a poster in a window caught his eye on his short walk and Koyama found himself stopping at the old, family run bookstore next to the station. He weaved past the handful of middle-aged men skimming the sports and idol magazines until he found himself in front of the store's main display. It took him a moment to gather himself, staring at the cover of the latest issue of An-an, before picking it up and flipping to the cover story.
Yamashita Tomohisa: Past Dreams, Future Aspirations
Finishing off his most recent cross-country tour. Writing and recording his new single that served as the theme song to his new drama. Getting into his newest character for the drama, a young man whose dreams have been snatched away from him and he must start over anew. All this Koyama garnered from his quick skimming of the article, and the next thing he knew, he was placing the magazine on the counter at the cash register and paying out four hundred yen for it.
A part of him lamented over the loss of the four hundred yen. What a waste of money. He could have bought an entire bowl of gyuudon with extra toppings at Yoshinoya with the same amount. A magazine would not satisfy his hunger. There was a part of him that thought differently though, carefully tucking the magazine into his shoulder bag for later.
"Um, excuse me. Excuse me!" A voice called out to Koyama as he exited the bookstore, continuing on in the direction of the train station.
Koyama turned back, like any person naturally would when being called after, but immediately regretted it.
There Nishikido Ryo and Yasuda Shota stood, a mere fifty feet separating them from him.
He did not even have to think twice. Koyama quickly turned away, moving toward the train station and away from the two idols that had nothing to do with him. Yes, they had absolutely no connection to him. When filling out application forms, he no longer put his occupation as idol. No, Koyama was a simple employee at a small travel agency in the middle of countryside nowhere. That was who he was now.
"Wait! Please! We just wanted to ask if you knew where this restaurant was!" Yasuda called out without any hesitation at the back of the young man's suited figure. Sure, he did have a strange niggling feeling that he had met the random passerby somewhere before, but Yasuda always had that feeling; how many location shootings had they done in the middle of nowhere now?
Just as it had been instantaneous for Koyama, so had it been for Ryo. You just don't easily forget someone with whom you worked closely for over two years overnight. However, unlike Koyama, Ryo was not quick to move and it was actually a minute before he did anything at all.
"KOYAMA!"
Koyama froze in front of the old turnstile wicket where the train station attendant was standing, ready to check his commuter's pass and let him through onto the waiting platform. The voice itself froze him. He had never imagined that voice-stern, condescending, and concerned all at once-would ever call out to him again. There were many things that he did not dare to dream anymore; his reality had no room for fantasies and dreams, let alone idols.
Koyama's short moment of paralysis provided Ryo with the opportunity to quickly chase after the man, but not before warning off the camera crew with him from trying to film the encounter. "Just don't."
"The next train is arriving, sir," the attendant gently alerted Koyama, who still stood before the wickets, his hand in his bag, just about to reach for his pass.
"Koyama." Ryo's voice was closer now, softer. Hesitantly, Koyama turned to his left to find Ryo there, standing just off to the side of the wickets, hands tucked into the pockets of his jean jacket.
After a moment of consideration or a blink of insanity-Koyama himself was not quite sure-he stepped back from the wickets, silently bowing his head in apology to the station attendant for having taken up his time, and started walking toward the station's only exit. He did not even have to look back to know that Ryo was following him. Once they had exited the old rickety building-it had not been remodeled since it was first built in the late 1950s-and were safely out of the line of sight of any of the train station staff (who were really the only other people in the area at the time), Koyama finally faced Ryo.
"…Nishikido-san."
Ryo frowned at the formality that Koyama used. It was not an angry or disgruntled frown-the ones for which he was known-but a solemn one, a sad one. A frown that echoed loss, sacrifice, and perhaps even longing. "Koyama…"
The two of them stood like that for some indiscriminate amount of time, unable to articulate the thoughts and feelings swarming inside themselves to the other. It was awkward, near painfully so, and yet, despite the breakup of their group and the subsequent five years, there was something strangely familiar underneath it all.
"So you were here all this time?"
"I was."
"Working huh?" Ryo nodded his head at Koyama's simple black business suit.
Koyama glanced down at his own clothes, smoothing his hands down the front of his jacket, suddenly oddly self-conscious of his appearance. "Working."
"Shige didn't even know where you were."
"I didn't tell him."
"He's in Osaka now. Working for a small law firm. We go out for drinks when he has a moment to spare."
"You mean, when you have a moment to spare."
It was a rarity for Ryo to be taken aback these days, especially after the news of their former group's disbanding, however, the simple and straight-forward bitterness of Koyama's words completely stunned him. That was not the Koyama he remembered. Then again, Ryo supposed that Koyama had been the most effected by the changes over the last five years than anyone else. "Actually, I meant Shige," Ryo reiterated, his voice oddly meek in the face of the other's hostile front. "He's taken a lot of pro-bono work, so he tends to be busier than even me nowadays."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah." Ryo was having a hard time swallowing that the person in front of him really was indeed Koyama-open, able to listen to anything, motherly Koyama. Except he was not any of those things now. He was a changed Koyama, a mere shell of who Ryo remembered him to be. He just could not connect it. "Koyama, why are you being like this? Why didn't you tell anyone where you went?! Don't you know how long he's been-"
"-I have to go. To catch my train. It'll be the last one for tonight so if I don't make it now, I'll never make it."
Finally, something that was familiar. Ryo watched as Koyama ran away from his blunt, insistent questions and back into the station. Koyama had never been able to handle direct confrontation well, and even now, that at least was still the same. Before he disappeared completely however, Ryo managed to yell a parting shot.
"STOP RUNNING AWAY!"
Ryo had not been expecting any response from Koyama. The Koyama of five years ago would have probably continued walking, taking in the words passively and then spent the next couple of days trying to digest them in his own way before he even tried to speak on the topic again. However, Koyama surprised him yet again when he stopped suddenly, providing a rather calm and composed retort.
"I don't have anything to run away from anymore; it's all gone."
*~*~*
It took a good two hours before the reality of the encounter with his former band-mate hit Koyama. As he was pouring the boiling water out of the small kettle that had been heating on his gas stove into the Styrofoam instant ramen container, the entire incident came over him like a wave-talking to Ryo about people and things from what seemed like a lifetime ago-and the bowl full of ramen slipped from his fingers, spilling into the dirty sink, food going to waste.
"Fuck," he muttered to himself, setting the kettle aside and dumping the remains of the food that he had ruined.
"Don't you know how long he's been-"
Koyama dropped the plastic trashcan he had been holding on his foot, and while it didn't hurt, he still let out a curse. "Shit."
Staring at the discarded near empty trashcan, he leaned his hands against the edge of the sink, bowing his head, trying to compose himself and his thoughts.
Fucking Ryo. Destroying five years of emotional walls with five minutes of pathetic conversation. Fucking Kanjani8. No one asked them to come film out here. They should've just stayed in Osaka. Left him alone in his part of the country.
He had a vague urge to kick the trashcan, but he held it in. Instead, Koyama left the kitchen and moved into the main room and collapsed onto his bed, face first into the pillows. There was no smell, not a faint hint of perfume, no fresh scent of shampoo. It had been over a year since he had had someone over to the apartment and six months since he actually had been with someone-a one night stand; Koyama still could not bring himself to be anymore invested than that.
He shifted his head, and caught a glance of something peeking out from his open bag that he had tossed to the floor as soon as he had arrived home. Narrowing his eyes, he tried to make out what it was, but he couldn't tell, so ended up dragging himself off the bed and toward the bag. "Oh this," he muttered to himself with a shake of his head, pulling out the issue of An-an he had purchased just before the disastrous meeting with Ryo. He had forgotten it in the fuss.
Koyama flipped through to the cover story again, not at all interested in the latest makeup techniques to make one's eyes look ten years younger. The first page of the article was a photo of YamaPi lounging sideways in a decorated high-back chair, a leg thrown over one of the chair's arms, an arm hanging off the chair's back, making him look like a cocky king, aware of his power and prestige. The subtitle, emblazoned at his feet in a gold, gaudy font, only served to enhance that image-"heralded as the Kimura Takuya of his generation of Johnny's idols and beloved by fans of all ages, Yamashita Tomohisa reveals all about how he got to be where he is and where he's headed next".
Settling back down onto his bed with much less dramatics than before, he began to read through the article. To be honest, it was the first time Koyama had picked up a magazine with YamaPi on the cover since they had last seen each other. It was the first time he was reading a magazine article about him and that world since Koyama himself had left it.
Despite a decent amount of time having past, the articles still managed to read the same. Koyama could imagine exactly what questions were asked, and how the writer had manipulated the answers to fit the pretty cover story he was reading in his hands. The techniques were still the same, he still had the skills. He could still be a part of that-
No. Koyama promptly put a stop to that thought before he could fully realize it. That was the last thing he needed. Today, of all days.
He shut the magazine even though he was only halfway through the article, having read about YamaPi's excitement about the release of his tenth single that he thought to be his best single yet, and slid it under his bed. Out of sight, and out of mind.
That was how Koyama tried to handle most things nowadays.
It was the only way he knew how.
*~*~*
The next day Koyama was understandably on edge. He was constantly looking over his shoulder, half expecting Ryo to pop up when he least expected it, even though he knew that it was not in Ryo's nature to stalk someone if they showed resistance-or at least, he was not likely to have five years ago. His few kouhai seemed a bit concerned for his sanity when he started checking the broom closet, to the point where their worried comments got to the ears of his boss and Koyama was allowed to leave without putting in overtime for the day.
He sort of felt bad about his antics. After all, he had not meant to weasel his way out of work. Koyama was just trying to avoid a past he wanted to forget, one that others seemed insistent on making him remember.
On the second day, Koyama had not been as paranoid and it appeared to pay off as no one showed up from that legendary jimusho looking for him. He even had managed to get good work done to make up for his skittishness the day before, landing two new business clients who wanted their next company onsen weekends to be organized by him. Going home that evening, he had felt more settled, more normal. This was his life, the way things should be.
Koyama ended up not going into the office early on Friday, instead visiting his new clients who were in the next town over to hash out the generalities of their travel arrangements so that he could begin to schedule and plan all the little necessary details. It was past three when he finally made it into the office, pulling on the glass doors, allowing the cool air from the building's air-conditioning to brush soothingly against his warm skin. "I'm back!" he called out in greeting.
His colleagues quickly responded to him, whether genuinely or out of habit he was never sure. "Welcome back!"
As Koyama made his way across the office, he noticed the handful of girls in the office gathered around the coffee machine, giggling and gossiping-trying to be secretive, and yet clearly failing because that large of a gathering in the corner of their small office was obvious. However, none of the other employees seemed to pay them mind and left the girls to their chatter. He supposed he should too. He approached his boss' desk and bowed. "I'm back from those morning business trips, Oikawa-buchou."
The slightly pudgy but kind-faced middle-aged man glanced away from his computer and acknowledged Koyama before his desk. "Welcome back, Koyama-kun. Make sure to turn your receipts in to Machida-kun and then go to the meeting room. There's someone here to see you."
Koyama furrowed his brow in confusion. "But I don't have any meetings scheduled for today."
"I know," Oikawa-buchou returned with a slight frown. "But this guy came in and insisted on speaking with you. He's been here for the past two hours. Wouldn't even leave when we told him that you were out on business. I guess he thinks he's some kind of hotshot or something."
Hotshot? Fuck. How had Ryo figured out where he worked?!
"I'm sorry for the trouble." Koyama bowed respectfully once more. "I'll deal with him quickly."
Retreating to his desk, Koyama dropped off his bag, draped his unneeded suit jacket on the back of his chair and made his way toward the meeting room. He really did not want to deal with this. Not here. Not now. Maybe not ever. However, he didn't really have a choice as Ryo brought himself to Koyama's work, interfering with his new life. He would not let himself become consumed by his former life, something that he refused to even barely acknowledge as a memory. No.
Koyama grabbed the knob to the meeting room and yanked it open, jumping into the conflict awaiting him, and then slamming the door shut.
There was one man sitting at the long conference table-his back to Koyama-with one of the office's best tea cups set before him. Koyama did not even have to see his face to know right away he was not Ryo, but once the man turned in his chair to face him at the door, all was confirmed and he found himself wishing that Ryo had come instead.
"No wonder the girls were all giddy."
*~*~*
It had been early on Tuesday night when YamaPi got the call while in the dressing room at TBS studios, getting ready to record his appearance on Utaban. Kawano-san was carefully reminding him to not let it slip that he currently was seeing Aragaki Yui, like he slipped last time when he was dating Ueno Juri, and the ringing cell phone had been a welcoming excuse to not have to listen to the older man's well-meaning, but tiresome lectures.
"Pi?"
"It's me. Ryo?"
"There's something I have to tell you. I know he probably doesn't want me to tell you, but I have to tell you."
"…Ryo?"
"It's Koyama. I know where he is. I found him."
It had taken two days, the shaking down almost everyone in the jimusho-from the humble janitor who cleaned their practice rooms to the Johnny-san himself-until coming upon the unlikely source of V6's Sakamoto, and eventually pulling a diva moment and insisting that Kawano-san cancel all of his Friday appointments before YamaPi was able to be where he was right at that moment, looking straight into Koyama Keiichiro's face.
"No wonder the girls were all giddy," Koyama deadpanned with a heavy sigh.
"Girls? Giddy?" YamaPi repeated, clearly not following Koyama at all. "Five years later, and that's all you have to say to me?"
Koyama moved away from the door and toward one of the windows, peeking out through the shut blinds. "They're still at it too." He shook his head in exasperation.
YamaPi did not dare remove his eyes from Koyama's figure for fear that he should up and disappear again for another five years. Admittedly though, he was frustrated by the lack of attention the other seemed to pay him, especially after he had waited over two hours (and to be honest, over five years) for him. "Koyama…"
"You're in the way here," Koyama spat angrily, suddenly focusing on YamaPi, who had stood up from his chair in an effort to close the distance between himself and Koyama. "You don't belong here."
Alarmed by the eruption of aggression from Koyama of all people, YamaPi took a wary step backwards. "And you belong here?"
"I do," Koyama stated with a confidence that his fisted, trembling hands at his sides seemed to betray. "I belong here. I work here. I am respected here."
"You belonged there too. With all of us. With me-"
"No. No, I didn't." Koyama insisted and while he was talking to YamaPi, his words seemed more for himself than the other man in the room. "You don't just give someone all their wishes on a silver platter and then take it away like that. You don't just stomp on someone's bared heart."
YamaPi frowned, drawing out all the lines and wrinkles in his face that his normally boyish smile seemed to hide, knowing that this set of words were indeed meant for him. "Koyama, maybe we shouldn't be doing this here, at your work. Your coworkers might hear and-"
"We really shouldn't be doing this at all," Koyama cut him off, eyes narrowed and set. "Whatever 'this' is. There's no need. What's been said has been said and I have nothing more to add really."
YamaPi bit on his lower lip hard, resisting the urge to fire back a retort of his own. Really, nothing was ever said. He had left without any explanation, only some parting words to Johnny-san and his resignation letter. The idea that Koyama had said anything at all was laughable.
"Just leave," Koyama directed, voice rough and low. "You and I, there's nothing between us. There never was."
He supposed that Koyama had been right about one thing, he did not belong here. So, YamaPi backed down and obliged, grabbing his sunglasses off the table and slipping them on before leaving the meeting room, only the sound of the door shutting after him accompanying his exit.
Alone in the aftermath, Koyama pressed his palm against his chest, gasping for breath as he struggled to calm his wildly beating heart.
*~*~*
They always had been a secret.
The first time YamaPi had kissed Koyama it had been behind the scenes on Kurosagi. They had been playing around with one of the handheld cameras a producer had been touting around. It'd been intended as a joke, a simple kiss on the cheek to tease the fangirls who might be watching the footage as extras on the DVD set. However, when the supposedly innocent peck had led to a ten-minute makeout session in YamaPi's dressing room that would have advanced further had his stylist not knocked on the door, they both realized that the fangirls probably were not quite ready for that show.
The first time YamaPi and Koyama had sex it had been in the basement of the jimusho parking structure. YamaPi had been on his way out after work, off to pick up Yuu from one of her endless gravure shoots before dinner when he ran into Koyama. YamaPi casually offered the other a ride in his Benz, and Koyama did end up getting that ride, despite the kilometer dial on YamaPi's dashboard having not moved one bit. Yuu's shoot ended up running late anyway, so she didn't even notice when her prince drove up an hour later than promised. She did remark that YamaPi's new musk was a little sweeter than she liked and that he should consider changing it though.
From there, whenever they could steal a moment, they did. When YamaPi appeared on Shounen Club for "Daite Senorita" and then again for his second solo single, "Fever to Future", Koyama was always the hardest to find right before going on air. Each time he'd just barely made it though, a little disheveled and flushed, but otherwise ready to take the stage. The summer had been especially hard on them what with Koyama doing drama filming and YamaPi acting as the Women's Volleyball championship mascot on his own after the breakout success of "Daite Senorita", topping the Oricon charts for ten weeks straight and breaking a million copies sold in just six weeks. They still made time though, even if it was just a few long kisses shared in the jimusho elevators.
One time, they had tried to define this.
"This is an affair, isn't it?"
"This is not an affair."
"You're still dating Abiru."
"Yeah. And she's still doing that one photographer on the side to get the prime photo shoots. This isn't an affair."
"Then what is this exactly?"
"You and me."
Koyama dated a girl from his Chinese literature seminar for a few months. She was cute with her perfectly manicured nails, big doe-like eyes, and shapely legs that opened wide for him whenever he pleased. She was half-Chinese too, which made having her around for some of those readings really helpful. He even went so far as to do the whole Christmas thing with her, reserving a table at one of the best French restaurants in the city and buying her a pretty golden charm bracelet. (YamaPi had been working that night-a special one night solo live concert in Tokyo Dome before NEWS was supposed to come back from hiatus.)
NEWS did not return as expected at Starship Countdown that year. Fans were greatly disappointed, as was Koyama, who watched the entire thing from in front of his television-YamaPi ran around to "Daite Senorita", Tegoshi and Massu harmonized on "Miso Soup", and Ryo flailed with the rest of Kanjani8. Shige was off with his girlfriend doing the annual first temple visit of the year probably, and Koyama was sitting in his pajamas on his futon, unconsciously nibbling away on vanilla wafers, wanting to bask in the spotlight with his fellow band-mates.
The new year came without a single rumor, let alone a single official word of NEWS's return from hiatus. Koyama obediently continued with his solo activities, but the uneasiness and concern about the well-being of his career-whether NEWS would come back at all-began to intensify until it began to spill into his relationship with YamaPi.
"Why are you still dating Abiru-san?"
"She smells good."
"No, seriously, Pi."
"I am serious! She smells good! …why are you bringing this up anyway?"
"I was just thinking that maybe we should, I don't know, try making this real…"
"'Try making this real'? Aren't you the one dating that one girl...?"
"I broke up with her last week. I wanted to give this a shot, make it work."
"You say that like it isn't working like it is right now. It is working. And what is the point of fixing something that still works?"
It was the next day that they were all called into Johnny-san's office and NEWS's permanent disbandment was announced to them. There were no glitzy press conferences, no promises to fans, no prying questions from the reporters, just a simple statement released by public relations to the mass media and that was it. From their indefinite hiatus into a permanent dismissal, the idol group of NEWS faded out into obscurity.
And that was the end for Koyama.
*~*~*
Koyama gave the usual station attendant a customary flash of his commuter's pass and the older man welcomingly waved him through the wickets. "A long day today?"
He nodded with a sigh and a small smile. "A very long day."
After YamaPi's surprise visit, the only way Koyama had been able to get through the rest of the day had been to throw himself into his work. Booking charter buses, searching for available ryokan at this time of year and then reserving rooms, filling out the paperwork and creating the itineraries-a lot of it was busy work (as the majority of his work tended to be as a travel agent), but it was busy work that kept his hands moving and his mind occupied. After five hours of productivity though, Koyama determined that he had finished all that he could for the day and left the office around nine.
He honestly had not expected to run into YamaPi again. He was not even thinking about their "argument" earlier that day-out of sight, out of mind was a skill that Koyama had perfected over the past five years-when he plopped down onto the bench to wait for the last train to arrive.
And then suddenly, YamaPi plopped down right next to him.
Had this been five years ago, Koyama probably would have flailed outright in utter surprise. It was not however, so Koyama did not. Instead, he continued to look out across the train tracks into the empty darkness, sensing YamaPi anxious at his side, seemingly waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"…you didn't actually wait the entire time, did you?"
"I did; played PAC-MAN on my cell phone to kill time." YamaPi shrugged nonchalantly. "I've waited longer; I've learned patience."
"Have you now?"
"I have."
"Did you eat dinner at least?" Koyama only realized what he was saying until it had escaped his lips and mentally kicked himself for so easily slipping into old habits with YamaPi.
YamaPi, on the other hand, grinned widely at his success-having gotten to Koyama, if only the tiniest bit. "I ate some onigiri from the convenience store next door while honing my stalking skills."
"Normal people don't take pride in those kinds of things."
YamaPi looked over at Koyama, who still refused to meet the other's gaze. "Well, this situation is hardly normal."
"…"
"Shige didn't even know you were here."
"I know."
"I had to work my way through all the groups until I got to Sakamoto. The fact that Sakamoto of all people knew where you were? …I was totally shocked."
"Well, he did help me get this job."
"How was I supposed to know that?"
"You weren't; that was the point."
"Well, then I guess you have no idea that he's been watching you for the past five years either, huh?" YamaPi did not want to have to be childish and spiteful, but Koyama was being difficult-YamaPi was still trying to get used to that idea-and this was the only resort he could think to take. "You turned down transfer offers to the main office in Tokyo two times."
"I did; I thought it better to develop a strong base here with our customers rather than bouncing from one branch to another."
YamaPi rolled his eyes at Koyama's clearly rehearsed answer, something he must have told himself over and over a thousand times before it actually sounded convincing. "You're so full of shit. You were just running away."
"Running away?!" Koyama suddenly turned on YamaPi, finally looking directly at him for the first time. However, it was not in the way that YamaPi had hoped as Koyama's eyes flashed with an anger he had never seen before. "Why do you people keep on saying that I'm running away?! What could I possibly be running away from?"
YamaPi stared at Koyama with his own wide eyes, utterly and completely speechless. There were things he wanted to say-or maybe just even one word (me)-but he could not bring himself to speak in the face of Koyama's tumultuous emotions.
"When I left, there was nothing, Pi." Koyama's voice softened and his shoulders slumped as he admitted defeat. This new life, it would always be tainted by his old one. After all, the only reason he was here was because of all that had come before. "Johnny-san dismissed NEWS, Shige had decided to leave, and I was barely holding onto a regular gig on Shounen Club. Everywhere I went in the jimusho, people would look at me with sympathetic eyes, like I was some fucking puppy abandoned in the rain." He dropped back, leaning against the bench again, staring at his tightly clasped hands in his lap. "There was nothing left for me there, Pi, and I knew that. So I cut my losses. Started over while I still had a chance."
The idol longed to reach over and touch the other, even if it was only pressing his hand gently against Koyama's shoulder, but he understood that he could not. That it was not appropriate, that perhaps he had even lost that right. "…'cut your losses'?" he shakily repeated once he had found his voice again.
Koyama gave a curt nod of his head, awkwardly glancing around the empty platform if only to avoid looking at YamaPi. "I cut my losses," he repeated firmly.
"…you startled me that day you know." YamaPi was hardly one to speak of his own feelings openly, and ever since NEWS's breakup he had only become more tight-lipped, but this was different. He was with Koyama. No matter how much he had been forced to change in the past few years, deep down he was still the Koyama YamaPi had snuck around with, stealing fleeting kisses and finding moments of pure pleasure. YamaPi believed. It was one of the things he had retained from Koyama.
Koyama had no idea what YamaPi was talking about. "Startled?"
"When you said you wanted to be serious," YamaPi elaborated. "At first, I thought you had been joking. You had been dating that girl after all-I mean, we even picked out the charm bracelet together-and you and I, we hadn't seen each other for weeks because of work." He paused, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. "But when I realized you weren't joking, I didn't know what to say.
"Kawano-san had told me about NEWS a week before. He assured me that it was for the best, that all our careers would be the better for it, mine in particular. I tried to convince him that that wasn't the case, that my popularity would only fade with time without NEWS, but he didn't listen and it occurred to me that I was probably talking to the wrong person. But when I went to Johnny-san, he called NEWS a 'business mistake'. And when he said that, I knew it was over. That I could scream from the rooftops, but it wouldn't make a damn difference."
Koyama could feel his nails digging into the back of his hands as he listened to the story of NEWS' demise from YamaPi's lips for the first time. He felt all those old wounds that he had sought to hide away-they would never heal completely, and sometimes, he thought he did not want them to-resurface and reopen, that stinging pain that he had been all too familiar with returning once more. Koyama did not want to hear all this, and yet, he needed to hear it.
"The early warning was the only real courtesy they gave me, as I got thrown into work and wasn't allowed to actually process it. I was dumb. I thought if I didn't say anything, it might go away-out of sight, out of mind, right?" YamaPi shot a boyish, clumsy smile in Koyama's direction as he recalled his former self. "You used to tease me all the time about that, remember? That it was my worst habit of all. You always were right in the end.
"And then you came over that night-just after Yuu left, perfect timing-told me you wanted to be 'real' and suddenly all I could think was, 'Tomorrow, you won't want this. You won't want me. Not after what I'm going to do to you.' And so I said what I said. That I wanted us to stay like we were because we weren't broken. We weren't broken. NEWS wasn't broken.
"But I broke you anyway, didn't I, Kei-chan?"
Koyama finally acknowledged that he had been listening to YamaPi the entire time, giving a slow, simple nod.
They sat in silence for a few more minutes until the train finally pulled into the station and Koyama stood up, heading for the spot where the doors would open on the platform. YamaPi stayed behind, still sitting on the bench, staring at Koyama's back as he waited the few seconds it took for the train to come to a full stop.
Eventually, the train stopped and the boarding doors decompressed before Koyama. He made to step through the open doors, but then hesitated. After a long second, he turned and faced YamaPi. "You won't be able to catch a taxi here tonight, and I don't think you want to be sleeping on a train station bench, even if it is pretty safe here."
Koyama didn't come straight out and say it, but YamaPi did not wait for him to say more either. He would not lose this chance, he would not break it.
*~*~*
It was darker here.
As he ascended the apartment building's rickety, weathered stairs to the second floor, YamaPi was struck by the near pitch blackness of the neighborhood. Barely any street lamps lighting the narrow roads and porch lights shown dimly, easily swallowed by the dark of the night. The entire ten minute walk from the train station to Koyama's apartment had been by the light of the full moon aided by the small lamp on the front of Koyama's worn bicycle faithfully at his side. What was it like when it was a new moon? Complete blindness?
YamaPi could not fathom living here. He was used to the constant shine and sparkle of Tokyo-the huge lit television screens at Shibuya Crossing, the neon store signs littered across Shinjuku, the bright Tokyo Tower on the horizon. He was used to shining. He needed a place that shone with him.
Koyama used to shine with him.
Noting that Koyama had gotten a few steps ahead of him as he pondered over this foreign life that the other seemed to lead, YamaPi jogged up the last few steps to catch up with Koyama, who had stopped before a plain dull blue door-one that looked like all the rest that lined the corridor. The only difference was that on the small tin box that served as the mailbox, "Koyama" has been scribbled onto a label and haphazardly taped on over the prior resident's name. YamaPi stopped himself before his hand reached out to touch the familiar name, still in slight disbelief that Koyama should live in such a shoddy place.
"Home sweet home," Koyama announced in a deadpan, pushing open the door to reveal his apartment.
YamaPi entered first, Koyama following and shutting the door behind them both. "…sorry for the intrusion," he whispered merely out of habit as he stood in the apartment entrance, taking in everything around him.
It was a one room, one bath apartment-the size of a shoebox, and to even say that was overly generous. After removing his shoes, YamaPi carefully stepped up into the small room, watching as Koyama comfortably dumped his work bag against the wall, flipped on the light switch, and padded into the adjacent kitchen to wash his hands.
Without a single inviting word, Koyama left YamaPi awkwardly standing there in the middle of it all, and it was a lot for him to take in. Absolutely bare white walls with a few random nail holes serving no purpose. Boxes upon boxes of knick knacks shoved into one corner-labeled things like "winter clothes" and "old schedules and trip fares"-serving as a makeshift computer desk for his laptop that was set on top of them, papers (from work, YamaPi assumed) scattered around on the floor. A small television with rabbit ears sat on the light tan carpeting, unplugged and lonely-looking. Next to Koyama's bed shoved into the corner was the glass sliding door that led out to the veranda, and YamaPi found himself instinctually moving toward it, seeking out air in this small, suffocating place.
"I wouldn't open that if I were you," Koyama voice warned just as YamaPi was about the push open the door. "Tomorrow is burnable garbage day; it's all out there right now."
"Oh," YamaPi returned, duly rebuked. He backed away from the door and returned to standing stiffly with his hands in his pockets.
Koyama leaned against the doorless frame dividing the kitchen and the living room and stared. This idol-who had sold millions of CDs on his own, held sold out Tokyo Dome concerts, and managed to send not only daughters and mothers, but even grandmothers into a tizzy-in his world. Five years ago, it was not such a strange thing; they had lived in the same world after all. Things were different now though-Koyama had taken a steep and sudden fall from grace while YamaPi had been raised up onto that golden pedestal-and the gap was huge.
While he had not read any of the magazine articles, Koyama occasionally watched television and even in his small, backwater town, avoiding YamaPi proved to be difficult. Every time he went to buy his favorite strawberry milk from the convenience store, right next to it on the shelf was the vegetable juice with a little pop-out advertisement of YamaPi. Last year's summer campaign for Japan Railways featured YamaPi in all their billboards and commercials as his seventh single "Summer Time" had been the tie-in song, and every day Koyama got an eyeful of the other on the commute to and from work. Of course, once he arrived in the office, all the girls could seem to talk about was the latest gossip on YamaPi-how he had been spotted drinking at an upscale bar in Ebisu with Ryo and Jin or how Ueno Juri denying that they were dating after his accidental admittance of it on a variety show caused their breakup.
To be honest, Koyama's life had been more saturated with YamaPi after he left the jimusho than before. When he did not even want to see or think of him, he was there at every turn. And that time long ago when he had wanted nothing but YamaPi, Koyama had consistently been deprived of him.
So much for out of sight, out of mind. It only worked when he could control it, and even though his life was very much his own now, there was still so much that Koyama could not dictate.
"You didn't come to see me after Johnny-san made the announcement." At the quiet start of Koyama's voice, YamaPi glanced up at him from where he had been awkwardly gazing down at his socked-toes. "You didn't call, you didn't send a message, nothing. So I assumed. And left."
YamaPi's brows narrowed at Koyama's simple explanation, said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. And maybe it was, but that still did not stop YamaPi's need to hear it from Koyama himself. "Assumed what? Left, why?"
The older man was hardly moved by YamaPi's questions, the frustration evident in his voice and his eyes imploring. Instead, he rolled off his perch against the wall and back into the kitchen. "I'm going to make some ramen; do you want some?"
Befuddled by Koyama's coolness-he had long missed that awkward, easily flustered Koyama who had a tendency to blush at the naughty things they would do in public places, but never regret them-YamaPi padded into the small kitchen to possibly help. "I had to hear it through the grapevine." If Koyama would not say anything, then YamaPi would just have to talk for the both of them. "At rehearsal for Music Station, I heard some of the juniors dancing backup for me talking about how you wouldn't be hosting Shounen Club anymore because you had quit the jimusho." Looking through the cabinets, YamaPi finally found the stash of cup ramen and reached for two. "I don't know how long I shook those juniors by the shoulders, making them tell me all they knew about you leaving, but I think I might've caused some temporary brain damage."
As he chuckled lightly, Koyama finished filling his kettle with tap water (the kitchen sink had terrible water pressure) and set it on the stove to boil.
"I remember yelling at Kawano-san after finishing the show-yelling at him for letting this happen, letting NEWS fall apart, destroying the futures of four of my friends; in my head though, I was only thinking about you." YamaPi set the two bowls of instant curry ramen on the kitchen counter next to the stove, standing at Koyama's side as he randomly poked at the plastic wrapped around the bowls. "I broke up with Yuu right after that too. She just didn't seem worthwhile anymore. The whole solo thing didn't seem worth it if it was destroying everyone and everything around me. But Johnny-san wouldn't let me give it up-he chalked it all up to growing pains and made me take on more work to compensate. In one way, I'm grateful to him for that." He looked down at Koyama's hands tightly gripping the edge of the counter. "It was really the only way I could keep sane at the time-focusing on what was in front of me and not thinking about anything else.
"It took me awhile, but it eventually caught up to me and I realized it was only a stopgap measure. Went clubbing with Ryo, got drunk, and it just all came tumbling out-or so Ryo says. I don't remember because I was so completely wasted. Him knowing helped; it wasn't like I could talk to you after all. Sure it wasn't a secret-"
"Did you even bother looking?"
YamaPi was startled by Koyama's somewhat hoarse voice that he barely registered over the gradually boiling water. With the other being so tight-lipped about everything, YamaPi had expected to have a rather long and uninterrupted monologue, but he was pleased that Koyama finally said something and that it seemed to lack the anger from before. That Koyama was coming around to the idea of him being here next to him after five years of absence. "You left without telling any of us anything; Shige didn't even know until I called him. You didn't want to be found, I thought."
Steam was rising from the spout of the kettle, faster and faster, hotter and hotter. "I didn't, but… I did hope for awhile." As if realizing his faux pas in uttering those simple and honest words, Koyama quickly covered them with, "I learned to stop hoping though. It did me no good here, in this life."
A long silence fell between the two again, both focused on the kettle of boiling water, unwilling to say anything further. Eventually, Koyama reached out and turned off the gas and YamaPi took that as his cue to rip the plastic covering off the ramen bowls.
As he tossed the trash away, Koyama picked up the bowls one by one, holding them over the sink as the poured the hot water into them.
"Will it always be like this?"
Koyama pulled open the drawer just beneath the counter and grabbed two sets of chopsticks. Placing one across the top of one of the ramen, he turned to YamaPi, offering it to him with an extended hand. "I honestly don't know."
YamaPi frowned as he took the ramen, looking more like a child denied his favorite food rather than the twenty-six year-old man that he was. Despite his seeming maturity, that face clearly had not changed as it was still terribly familiar to Koyama.
"But I do know one thing."
YamaPi lifted his eyes.
"This life? It hasn't betrayed me yet."
*~*~*
Koyama quietly shut the sliding door to the tiny veranda with one hand, his other hand heavy with two plastic bags full of his burnable garbage. He was trying to avoid waking the larger-than-life pop idol sprawled dead fast asleep on his bed, limbs thrown akimbo, head face down in the pillows. Lucky for him, YamaPi had always been and apparently still was a heavy sleeper.
It was morning, quite early actually, and even though Koyama was not expected into the office at all since it was Saturday, he decided he would go in for a half-day and get some needed filing done. Normally he would ask one of the girls to do it for him, but this time he would do it himself.
Any excuse to get out of the apartment before YamaPi woke up and Koyama had to face him again.
Last night had been difficult. Really difficult. YamaPi talking and talking, trying to get Koyama to say something-anything-in return and Koyama resisting, refusing to fall into old patterns. It would have been so easy to kiss him, to lose himself in YamaPi and that amazing world the two of them had shared; even after five years apart, leading polar opposite lives, Koyama was still drawn to him.
Part of him wondered if it was the allure of the idol-something he had never been prone to before as an idol himself-but deep down, Koyama knew that this was definitely not that. He was no fanboy. He personally knew (loved) all of YamaPi's likes and dislikes, all his quirks and faults. YamaPi could not stand walnuts and had an unreasonable fear of them since childhood. Despite already having one, he had always wanted a second bellybutton piercing, but Kawano-san had time and time again warned him off it. (Was Kawano-san still YamaPi's manager?) He actually preferred bottoming-liking the idea of being able to put that kind of trust in his partner, being able to believe.
Standing at the foot of the bed where YamaPi slept (he had opted for the floor even after YamaPi's insistence that there was more than enough room for both of them and to not be stubborn), Koyama stared at YamaPi's bare back for a long moment, recalling how he once used to playfully draw random squiggles and characters along the tan skin and spoon against its lines and curves, resting his head on YamaPi's shoulder and whispering in the dark of the night. If only he could turn back time, just live in that moment forever…
Koyama walked away from the bed, bag already slung over his shoulder. Slipping into his loafers set near the entrance, he grabbed for the door knob with his free hand. Stepping out into the breezy morning, Koyama did not even look back once, shutting the door with a soft click.
Out of sight, out of mind.
the end.
forward -->
author: nihongofrancais
genre: RPS, NEWS
pairing: Koyama/YamaPi
rating: PG-13
word count: 8,583 words
summary: AU Future. When NEWS broke up in 2007, Koyama left the jimusho for a normal life, hoping to forget his failures. One can never really, truly forget though.
author's notes: see here.
As the computer's screen went to black, Koyama stood up from his desk chair and pushed it beneath his tidily kept desk-every binder standing straight in their given slot, every paper clip sitting in their little tray, his desk calendar already turned to tomorrow's page. "otsukaresama deshita!"
The varied voices of his colleagues from across the small office took a moment to return the farewell greeting before diving into their own work at hand. "otsukaresama deshita."
One of the new employees-a cute, young girl just out of junior college-emerged from the meeting room, a tray of empty coffee cups in hand, as Koyama headed for the doors. "You're leaving already, Koyama-san?"
He smiled kindly at her and nodded his head. What was her name again? Miyagi-san? Miyamoto-san? "I had an early appointment with a client this morning, so I'm done for today."
"Oh." The young girl took in his words and then started excitedly. "Well, some of the other girls were planning to go to dinner in a little bit; do you want to come?"
All the new girls were like this their first few months with the company. They recognized him for what he once was, the vague connections that his history gave him, and wanted to get to know him. Or get into his pants. Either way, their interest in him never was quite sincere, stopping at the thought of a brush with celebrity, and as soon as they realized he was not all that special anymore-perhaps never even was-they quickly dropped their pursuit.
Miyagi/Miyamoto-san would be the same.
"I'll have to pass," he simply offered, stepping past the petite girl and pushing through the glass doors out into the breezy May evening.
Koyama glanced at his plain silver wristwatch as he walked down the sidewalk toward the train station, the setting sun on the horizon. A quarter after seven. He had made good time-only two hours of overtime today.
Tugging on the knot of his red tie, he loosened it slightly. Even after five years of this monotonous life-where he wore a suit, did the morning company pledge, and seemed to only bow his head to clients and superiors day in and day out-he had not become used to the ties. The knot was rather restricting, choking even.
A familiar face on a poster in a window caught his eye on his short walk and Koyama found himself stopping at the old, family run bookstore next to the station. He weaved past the handful of middle-aged men skimming the sports and idol magazines until he found himself in front of the store's main display. It took him a moment to gather himself, staring at the cover of the latest issue of An-an, before picking it up and flipping to the cover story.
Yamashita Tomohisa: Past Dreams, Future Aspirations
Finishing off his most recent cross-country tour. Writing and recording his new single that served as the theme song to his new drama. Getting into his newest character for the drama, a young man whose dreams have been snatched away from him and he must start over anew. All this Koyama garnered from his quick skimming of the article, and the next thing he knew, he was placing the magazine on the counter at the cash register and paying out four hundred yen for it.
A part of him lamented over the loss of the four hundred yen. What a waste of money. He could have bought an entire bowl of gyuudon with extra toppings at Yoshinoya with the same amount. A magazine would not satisfy his hunger. There was a part of him that thought differently though, carefully tucking the magazine into his shoulder bag for later.
"Um, excuse me. Excuse me!" A voice called out to Koyama as he exited the bookstore, continuing on in the direction of the train station.
Koyama turned back, like any person naturally would when being called after, but immediately regretted it.
There Nishikido Ryo and Yasuda Shota stood, a mere fifty feet separating them from him.
He did not even have to think twice. Koyama quickly turned away, moving toward the train station and away from the two idols that had nothing to do with him. Yes, they had absolutely no connection to him. When filling out application forms, he no longer put his occupation as idol. No, Koyama was a simple employee at a small travel agency in the middle of countryside nowhere. That was who he was now.
"Wait! Please! We just wanted to ask if you knew where this restaurant was!" Yasuda called out without any hesitation at the back of the young man's suited figure. Sure, he did have a strange niggling feeling that he had met the random passerby somewhere before, but Yasuda always had that feeling; how many location shootings had they done in the middle of nowhere now?
Just as it had been instantaneous for Koyama, so had it been for Ryo. You just don't easily forget someone with whom you worked closely for over two years overnight. However, unlike Koyama, Ryo was not quick to move and it was actually a minute before he did anything at all.
"KOYAMA!"
Koyama froze in front of the old turnstile wicket where the train station attendant was standing, ready to check his commuter's pass and let him through onto the waiting platform. The voice itself froze him. He had never imagined that voice-stern, condescending, and concerned all at once-would ever call out to him again. There were many things that he did not dare to dream anymore; his reality had no room for fantasies and dreams, let alone idols.
Koyama's short moment of paralysis provided Ryo with the opportunity to quickly chase after the man, but not before warning off the camera crew with him from trying to film the encounter. "Just don't."
"The next train is arriving, sir," the attendant gently alerted Koyama, who still stood before the wickets, his hand in his bag, just about to reach for his pass.
"Koyama." Ryo's voice was closer now, softer. Hesitantly, Koyama turned to his left to find Ryo there, standing just off to the side of the wickets, hands tucked into the pockets of his jean jacket.
After a moment of consideration or a blink of insanity-Koyama himself was not quite sure-he stepped back from the wickets, silently bowing his head in apology to the station attendant for having taken up his time, and started walking toward the station's only exit. He did not even have to look back to know that Ryo was following him. Once they had exited the old rickety building-it had not been remodeled since it was first built in the late 1950s-and were safely out of the line of sight of any of the train station staff (who were really the only other people in the area at the time), Koyama finally faced Ryo.
"…Nishikido-san."
Ryo frowned at the formality that Koyama used. It was not an angry or disgruntled frown-the ones for which he was known-but a solemn one, a sad one. A frown that echoed loss, sacrifice, and perhaps even longing. "Koyama…"
The two of them stood like that for some indiscriminate amount of time, unable to articulate the thoughts and feelings swarming inside themselves to the other. It was awkward, near painfully so, and yet, despite the breakup of their group and the subsequent five years, there was something strangely familiar underneath it all.
"So you were here all this time?"
"I was."
"Working huh?" Ryo nodded his head at Koyama's simple black business suit.
Koyama glanced down at his own clothes, smoothing his hands down the front of his jacket, suddenly oddly self-conscious of his appearance. "Working."
"Shige didn't even know where you were."
"I didn't tell him."
"He's in Osaka now. Working for a small law firm. We go out for drinks when he has a moment to spare."
"You mean, when you have a moment to spare."
It was a rarity for Ryo to be taken aback these days, especially after the news of their former group's disbanding, however, the simple and straight-forward bitterness of Koyama's words completely stunned him. That was not the Koyama he remembered. Then again, Ryo supposed that Koyama had been the most effected by the changes over the last five years than anyone else. "Actually, I meant Shige," Ryo reiterated, his voice oddly meek in the face of the other's hostile front. "He's taken a lot of pro-bono work, so he tends to be busier than even me nowadays."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah." Ryo was having a hard time swallowing that the person in front of him really was indeed Koyama-open, able to listen to anything, motherly Koyama. Except he was not any of those things now. He was a changed Koyama, a mere shell of who Ryo remembered him to be. He just could not connect it. "Koyama, why are you being like this? Why didn't you tell anyone where you went?! Don't you know how long he's been-"
"-I have to go. To catch my train. It'll be the last one for tonight so if I don't make it now, I'll never make it."
Finally, something that was familiar. Ryo watched as Koyama ran away from his blunt, insistent questions and back into the station. Koyama had never been able to handle direct confrontation well, and even now, that at least was still the same. Before he disappeared completely however, Ryo managed to yell a parting shot.
"STOP RUNNING AWAY!"
Ryo had not been expecting any response from Koyama. The Koyama of five years ago would have probably continued walking, taking in the words passively and then spent the next couple of days trying to digest them in his own way before he even tried to speak on the topic again. However, Koyama surprised him yet again when he stopped suddenly, providing a rather calm and composed retort.
"I don't have anything to run away from anymore; it's all gone."
*~*~*
It took a good two hours before the reality of the encounter with his former band-mate hit Koyama. As he was pouring the boiling water out of the small kettle that had been heating on his gas stove into the Styrofoam instant ramen container, the entire incident came over him like a wave-talking to Ryo about people and things from what seemed like a lifetime ago-and the bowl full of ramen slipped from his fingers, spilling into the dirty sink, food going to waste.
"Fuck," he muttered to himself, setting the kettle aside and dumping the remains of the food that he had ruined.
"Don't you know how long he's been-"
Koyama dropped the plastic trashcan he had been holding on his foot, and while it didn't hurt, he still let out a curse. "Shit."
Staring at the discarded near empty trashcan, he leaned his hands against the edge of the sink, bowing his head, trying to compose himself and his thoughts.
Fucking Ryo. Destroying five years of emotional walls with five minutes of pathetic conversation. Fucking Kanjani8. No one asked them to come film out here. They should've just stayed in Osaka. Left him alone in his part of the country.
He had a vague urge to kick the trashcan, but he held it in. Instead, Koyama left the kitchen and moved into the main room and collapsed onto his bed, face first into the pillows. There was no smell, not a faint hint of perfume, no fresh scent of shampoo. It had been over a year since he had had someone over to the apartment and six months since he actually had been with someone-a one night stand; Koyama still could not bring himself to be anymore invested than that.
He shifted his head, and caught a glance of something peeking out from his open bag that he had tossed to the floor as soon as he had arrived home. Narrowing his eyes, he tried to make out what it was, but he couldn't tell, so ended up dragging himself off the bed and toward the bag. "Oh this," he muttered to himself with a shake of his head, pulling out the issue of An-an he had purchased just before the disastrous meeting with Ryo. He had forgotten it in the fuss.
Koyama flipped through to the cover story again, not at all interested in the latest makeup techniques to make one's eyes look ten years younger. The first page of the article was a photo of YamaPi lounging sideways in a decorated high-back chair, a leg thrown over one of the chair's arms, an arm hanging off the chair's back, making him look like a cocky king, aware of his power and prestige. The subtitle, emblazoned at his feet in a gold, gaudy font, only served to enhance that image-"heralded as the Kimura Takuya of his generation of Johnny's idols and beloved by fans of all ages, Yamashita Tomohisa reveals all about how he got to be where he is and where he's headed next".
Settling back down onto his bed with much less dramatics than before, he began to read through the article. To be honest, it was the first time Koyama had picked up a magazine with YamaPi on the cover since they had last seen each other. It was the first time he was reading a magazine article about him and that world since Koyama himself had left it.
Despite a decent amount of time having past, the articles still managed to read the same. Koyama could imagine exactly what questions were asked, and how the writer had manipulated the answers to fit the pretty cover story he was reading in his hands. The techniques were still the same, he still had the skills. He could still be a part of that-
No. Koyama promptly put a stop to that thought before he could fully realize it. That was the last thing he needed. Today, of all days.
He shut the magazine even though he was only halfway through the article, having read about YamaPi's excitement about the release of his tenth single that he thought to be his best single yet, and slid it under his bed. Out of sight, and out of mind.
That was how Koyama tried to handle most things nowadays.
It was the only way he knew how.
*~*~*
The next day Koyama was understandably on edge. He was constantly looking over his shoulder, half expecting Ryo to pop up when he least expected it, even though he knew that it was not in Ryo's nature to stalk someone if they showed resistance-or at least, he was not likely to have five years ago. His few kouhai seemed a bit concerned for his sanity when he started checking the broom closet, to the point where their worried comments got to the ears of his boss and Koyama was allowed to leave without putting in overtime for the day.
He sort of felt bad about his antics. After all, he had not meant to weasel his way out of work. Koyama was just trying to avoid a past he wanted to forget, one that others seemed insistent on making him remember.
On the second day, Koyama had not been as paranoid and it appeared to pay off as no one showed up from that legendary jimusho looking for him. He even had managed to get good work done to make up for his skittishness the day before, landing two new business clients who wanted their next company onsen weekends to be organized by him. Going home that evening, he had felt more settled, more normal. This was his life, the way things should be.
Koyama ended up not going into the office early on Friday, instead visiting his new clients who were in the next town over to hash out the generalities of their travel arrangements so that he could begin to schedule and plan all the little necessary details. It was past three when he finally made it into the office, pulling on the glass doors, allowing the cool air from the building's air-conditioning to brush soothingly against his warm skin. "I'm back!" he called out in greeting.
His colleagues quickly responded to him, whether genuinely or out of habit he was never sure. "Welcome back!"
As Koyama made his way across the office, he noticed the handful of girls in the office gathered around the coffee machine, giggling and gossiping-trying to be secretive, and yet clearly failing because that large of a gathering in the corner of their small office was obvious. However, none of the other employees seemed to pay them mind and left the girls to their chatter. He supposed he should too. He approached his boss' desk and bowed. "I'm back from those morning business trips, Oikawa-buchou."
The slightly pudgy but kind-faced middle-aged man glanced away from his computer and acknowledged Koyama before his desk. "Welcome back, Koyama-kun. Make sure to turn your receipts in to Machida-kun and then go to the meeting room. There's someone here to see you."
Koyama furrowed his brow in confusion. "But I don't have any meetings scheduled for today."
"I know," Oikawa-buchou returned with a slight frown. "But this guy came in and insisted on speaking with you. He's been here for the past two hours. Wouldn't even leave when we told him that you were out on business. I guess he thinks he's some kind of hotshot or something."
Hotshot? Fuck. How had Ryo figured out where he worked?!
"I'm sorry for the trouble." Koyama bowed respectfully once more. "I'll deal with him quickly."
Retreating to his desk, Koyama dropped off his bag, draped his unneeded suit jacket on the back of his chair and made his way toward the meeting room. He really did not want to deal with this. Not here. Not now. Maybe not ever. However, he didn't really have a choice as Ryo brought himself to Koyama's work, interfering with his new life. He would not let himself become consumed by his former life, something that he refused to even barely acknowledge as a memory. No.
Koyama grabbed the knob to the meeting room and yanked it open, jumping into the conflict awaiting him, and then slamming the door shut.
There was one man sitting at the long conference table-his back to Koyama-with one of the office's best tea cups set before him. Koyama did not even have to see his face to know right away he was not Ryo, but once the man turned in his chair to face him at the door, all was confirmed and he found himself wishing that Ryo had come instead.
"No wonder the girls were all giddy."
*~*~*
It had been early on Tuesday night when YamaPi got the call while in the dressing room at TBS studios, getting ready to record his appearance on Utaban. Kawano-san was carefully reminding him to not let it slip that he currently was seeing Aragaki Yui, like he slipped last time when he was dating Ueno Juri, and the ringing cell phone had been a welcoming excuse to not have to listen to the older man's well-meaning, but tiresome lectures.
"Pi?"
"It's me. Ryo?"
"There's something I have to tell you. I know he probably doesn't want me to tell you, but I have to tell you."
"…Ryo?"
"It's Koyama. I know where he is. I found him."
It had taken two days, the shaking down almost everyone in the jimusho-from the humble janitor who cleaned their practice rooms to the Johnny-san himself-until coming upon the unlikely source of V6's Sakamoto, and eventually pulling a diva moment and insisting that Kawano-san cancel all of his Friday appointments before YamaPi was able to be where he was right at that moment, looking straight into Koyama Keiichiro's face.
"No wonder the girls were all giddy," Koyama deadpanned with a heavy sigh.
"Girls? Giddy?" YamaPi repeated, clearly not following Koyama at all. "Five years later, and that's all you have to say to me?"
Koyama moved away from the door and toward one of the windows, peeking out through the shut blinds. "They're still at it too." He shook his head in exasperation.
YamaPi did not dare remove his eyes from Koyama's figure for fear that he should up and disappear again for another five years. Admittedly though, he was frustrated by the lack of attention the other seemed to pay him, especially after he had waited over two hours (and to be honest, over five years) for him. "Koyama…"
"You're in the way here," Koyama spat angrily, suddenly focusing on YamaPi, who had stood up from his chair in an effort to close the distance between himself and Koyama. "You don't belong here."
Alarmed by the eruption of aggression from Koyama of all people, YamaPi took a wary step backwards. "And you belong here?"
"I do," Koyama stated with a confidence that his fisted, trembling hands at his sides seemed to betray. "I belong here. I work here. I am respected here."
"You belonged there too. With all of us. With me-"
"No. No, I didn't." Koyama insisted and while he was talking to YamaPi, his words seemed more for himself than the other man in the room. "You don't just give someone all their wishes on a silver platter and then take it away like that. You don't just stomp on someone's bared heart."
YamaPi frowned, drawing out all the lines and wrinkles in his face that his normally boyish smile seemed to hide, knowing that this set of words were indeed meant for him. "Koyama, maybe we shouldn't be doing this here, at your work. Your coworkers might hear and-"
"We really shouldn't be doing this at all," Koyama cut him off, eyes narrowed and set. "Whatever 'this' is. There's no need. What's been said has been said and I have nothing more to add really."
YamaPi bit on his lower lip hard, resisting the urge to fire back a retort of his own. Really, nothing was ever said. He had left without any explanation, only some parting words to Johnny-san and his resignation letter. The idea that Koyama had said anything at all was laughable.
"Just leave," Koyama directed, voice rough and low. "You and I, there's nothing between us. There never was."
He supposed that Koyama had been right about one thing, he did not belong here. So, YamaPi backed down and obliged, grabbing his sunglasses off the table and slipping them on before leaving the meeting room, only the sound of the door shutting after him accompanying his exit.
Alone in the aftermath, Koyama pressed his palm against his chest, gasping for breath as he struggled to calm his wildly beating heart.
*~*~*
They always had been a secret.
The first time YamaPi had kissed Koyama it had been behind the scenes on Kurosagi. They had been playing around with one of the handheld cameras a producer had been touting around. It'd been intended as a joke, a simple kiss on the cheek to tease the fangirls who might be watching the footage as extras on the DVD set. However, when the supposedly innocent peck had led to a ten-minute makeout session in YamaPi's dressing room that would have advanced further had his stylist not knocked on the door, they both realized that the fangirls probably were not quite ready for that show.
The first time YamaPi and Koyama had sex it had been in the basement of the jimusho parking structure. YamaPi had been on his way out after work, off to pick up Yuu from one of her endless gravure shoots before dinner when he ran into Koyama. YamaPi casually offered the other a ride in his Benz, and Koyama did end up getting that ride, despite the kilometer dial on YamaPi's dashboard having not moved one bit. Yuu's shoot ended up running late anyway, so she didn't even notice when her prince drove up an hour later than promised. She did remark that YamaPi's new musk was a little sweeter than she liked and that he should consider changing it though.
From there, whenever they could steal a moment, they did. When YamaPi appeared on Shounen Club for "Daite Senorita" and then again for his second solo single, "Fever to Future", Koyama was always the hardest to find right before going on air. Each time he'd just barely made it though, a little disheveled and flushed, but otherwise ready to take the stage. The summer had been especially hard on them what with Koyama doing drama filming and YamaPi acting as the Women's Volleyball championship mascot on his own after the breakout success of "Daite Senorita", topping the Oricon charts for ten weeks straight and breaking a million copies sold in just six weeks. They still made time though, even if it was just a few long kisses shared in the jimusho elevators.
One time, they had tried to define this.
"This is an affair, isn't it?"
"This is not an affair."
"You're still dating Abiru."
"Yeah. And she's still doing that one photographer on the side to get the prime photo shoots. This isn't an affair."
"Then what is this exactly?"
"You and me."
Koyama dated a girl from his Chinese literature seminar for a few months. She was cute with her perfectly manicured nails, big doe-like eyes, and shapely legs that opened wide for him whenever he pleased. She was half-Chinese too, which made having her around for some of those readings really helpful. He even went so far as to do the whole Christmas thing with her, reserving a table at one of the best French restaurants in the city and buying her a pretty golden charm bracelet. (YamaPi had been working that night-a special one night solo live concert in Tokyo Dome before NEWS was supposed to come back from hiatus.)
NEWS did not return as expected at Starship Countdown that year. Fans were greatly disappointed, as was Koyama, who watched the entire thing from in front of his television-YamaPi ran around to "Daite Senorita", Tegoshi and Massu harmonized on "Miso Soup", and Ryo flailed with the rest of Kanjani8. Shige was off with his girlfriend doing the annual first temple visit of the year probably, and Koyama was sitting in his pajamas on his futon, unconsciously nibbling away on vanilla wafers, wanting to bask in the spotlight with his fellow band-mates.
The new year came without a single rumor, let alone a single official word of NEWS's return from hiatus. Koyama obediently continued with his solo activities, but the uneasiness and concern about the well-being of his career-whether NEWS would come back at all-began to intensify until it began to spill into his relationship with YamaPi.
"Why are you still dating Abiru-san?"
"She smells good."
"No, seriously, Pi."
"I am serious! She smells good! …why are you bringing this up anyway?"
"I was just thinking that maybe we should, I don't know, try making this real…"
"'Try making this real'? Aren't you the one dating that one girl...?"
"I broke up with her last week. I wanted to give this a shot, make it work."
"You say that like it isn't working like it is right now. It is working. And what is the point of fixing something that still works?"
It was the next day that they were all called into Johnny-san's office and NEWS's permanent disbandment was announced to them. There were no glitzy press conferences, no promises to fans, no prying questions from the reporters, just a simple statement released by public relations to the mass media and that was it. From their indefinite hiatus into a permanent dismissal, the idol group of NEWS faded out into obscurity.
And that was the end for Koyama.
*~*~*
Koyama gave the usual station attendant a customary flash of his commuter's pass and the older man welcomingly waved him through the wickets. "A long day today?"
He nodded with a sigh and a small smile. "A very long day."
After YamaPi's surprise visit, the only way Koyama had been able to get through the rest of the day had been to throw himself into his work. Booking charter buses, searching for available ryokan at this time of year and then reserving rooms, filling out the paperwork and creating the itineraries-a lot of it was busy work (as the majority of his work tended to be as a travel agent), but it was busy work that kept his hands moving and his mind occupied. After five hours of productivity though, Koyama determined that he had finished all that he could for the day and left the office around nine.
He honestly had not expected to run into YamaPi again. He was not even thinking about their "argument" earlier that day-out of sight, out of mind was a skill that Koyama had perfected over the past five years-when he plopped down onto the bench to wait for the last train to arrive.
And then suddenly, YamaPi plopped down right next to him.
Had this been five years ago, Koyama probably would have flailed outright in utter surprise. It was not however, so Koyama did not. Instead, he continued to look out across the train tracks into the empty darkness, sensing YamaPi anxious at his side, seemingly waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"…you didn't actually wait the entire time, did you?"
"I did; played PAC-MAN on my cell phone to kill time." YamaPi shrugged nonchalantly. "I've waited longer; I've learned patience."
"Have you now?"
"I have."
"Did you eat dinner at least?" Koyama only realized what he was saying until it had escaped his lips and mentally kicked himself for so easily slipping into old habits with YamaPi.
YamaPi, on the other hand, grinned widely at his success-having gotten to Koyama, if only the tiniest bit. "I ate some onigiri from the convenience store next door while honing my stalking skills."
"Normal people don't take pride in those kinds of things."
YamaPi looked over at Koyama, who still refused to meet the other's gaze. "Well, this situation is hardly normal."
"…"
"Shige didn't even know you were here."
"I know."
"I had to work my way through all the groups until I got to Sakamoto. The fact that Sakamoto of all people knew where you were? …I was totally shocked."
"Well, he did help me get this job."
"How was I supposed to know that?"
"You weren't; that was the point."
"Well, then I guess you have no idea that he's been watching you for the past five years either, huh?" YamaPi did not want to have to be childish and spiteful, but Koyama was being difficult-YamaPi was still trying to get used to that idea-and this was the only resort he could think to take. "You turned down transfer offers to the main office in Tokyo two times."
"I did; I thought it better to develop a strong base here with our customers rather than bouncing from one branch to another."
YamaPi rolled his eyes at Koyama's clearly rehearsed answer, something he must have told himself over and over a thousand times before it actually sounded convincing. "You're so full of shit. You were just running away."
"Running away?!" Koyama suddenly turned on YamaPi, finally looking directly at him for the first time. However, it was not in the way that YamaPi had hoped as Koyama's eyes flashed with an anger he had never seen before. "Why do you people keep on saying that I'm running away?! What could I possibly be running away from?"
YamaPi stared at Koyama with his own wide eyes, utterly and completely speechless. There were things he wanted to say-or maybe just even one word (me)-but he could not bring himself to speak in the face of Koyama's tumultuous emotions.
"When I left, there was nothing, Pi." Koyama's voice softened and his shoulders slumped as he admitted defeat. This new life, it would always be tainted by his old one. After all, the only reason he was here was because of all that had come before. "Johnny-san dismissed NEWS, Shige had decided to leave, and I was barely holding onto a regular gig on Shounen Club. Everywhere I went in the jimusho, people would look at me with sympathetic eyes, like I was some fucking puppy abandoned in the rain." He dropped back, leaning against the bench again, staring at his tightly clasped hands in his lap. "There was nothing left for me there, Pi, and I knew that. So I cut my losses. Started over while I still had a chance."
The idol longed to reach over and touch the other, even if it was only pressing his hand gently against Koyama's shoulder, but he understood that he could not. That it was not appropriate, that perhaps he had even lost that right. "…'cut your losses'?" he shakily repeated once he had found his voice again.
Koyama gave a curt nod of his head, awkwardly glancing around the empty platform if only to avoid looking at YamaPi. "I cut my losses," he repeated firmly.
"…you startled me that day you know." YamaPi was hardly one to speak of his own feelings openly, and ever since NEWS's breakup he had only become more tight-lipped, but this was different. He was with Koyama. No matter how much he had been forced to change in the past few years, deep down he was still the Koyama YamaPi had snuck around with, stealing fleeting kisses and finding moments of pure pleasure. YamaPi believed. It was one of the things he had retained from Koyama.
Koyama had no idea what YamaPi was talking about. "Startled?"
"When you said you wanted to be serious," YamaPi elaborated. "At first, I thought you had been joking. You had been dating that girl after all-I mean, we even picked out the charm bracelet together-and you and I, we hadn't seen each other for weeks because of work." He paused, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. "But when I realized you weren't joking, I didn't know what to say.
"Kawano-san had told me about NEWS a week before. He assured me that it was for the best, that all our careers would be the better for it, mine in particular. I tried to convince him that that wasn't the case, that my popularity would only fade with time without NEWS, but he didn't listen and it occurred to me that I was probably talking to the wrong person. But when I went to Johnny-san, he called NEWS a 'business mistake'. And when he said that, I knew it was over. That I could scream from the rooftops, but it wouldn't make a damn difference."
Koyama could feel his nails digging into the back of his hands as he listened to the story of NEWS' demise from YamaPi's lips for the first time. He felt all those old wounds that he had sought to hide away-they would never heal completely, and sometimes, he thought he did not want them to-resurface and reopen, that stinging pain that he had been all too familiar with returning once more. Koyama did not want to hear all this, and yet, he needed to hear it.
"The early warning was the only real courtesy they gave me, as I got thrown into work and wasn't allowed to actually process it. I was dumb. I thought if I didn't say anything, it might go away-out of sight, out of mind, right?" YamaPi shot a boyish, clumsy smile in Koyama's direction as he recalled his former self. "You used to tease me all the time about that, remember? That it was my worst habit of all. You always were right in the end.
"And then you came over that night-just after Yuu left, perfect timing-told me you wanted to be 'real' and suddenly all I could think was, 'Tomorrow, you won't want this. You won't want me. Not after what I'm going to do to you.' And so I said what I said. That I wanted us to stay like we were because we weren't broken. We weren't broken. NEWS wasn't broken.
"But I broke you anyway, didn't I, Kei-chan?"
Koyama finally acknowledged that he had been listening to YamaPi the entire time, giving a slow, simple nod.
They sat in silence for a few more minutes until the train finally pulled into the station and Koyama stood up, heading for the spot where the doors would open on the platform. YamaPi stayed behind, still sitting on the bench, staring at Koyama's back as he waited the few seconds it took for the train to come to a full stop.
Eventually, the train stopped and the boarding doors decompressed before Koyama. He made to step through the open doors, but then hesitated. After a long second, he turned and faced YamaPi. "You won't be able to catch a taxi here tonight, and I don't think you want to be sleeping on a train station bench, even if it is pretty safe here."
Koyama didn't come straight out and say it, but YamaPi did not wait for him to say more either. He would not lose this chance, he would not break it.
*~*~*
It was darker here.
As he ascended the apartment building's rickety, weathered stairs to the second floor, YamaPi was struck by the near pitch blackness of the neighborhood. Barely any street lamps lighting the narrow roads and porch lights shown dimly, easily swallowed by the dark of the night. The entire ten minute walk from the train station to Koyama's apartment had been by the light of the full moon aided by the small lamp on the front of Koyama's worn bicycle faithfully at his side. What was it like when it was a new moon? Complete blindness?
YamaPi could not fathom living here. He was used to the constant shine and sparkle of Tokyo-the huge lit television screens at Shibuya Crossing, the neon store signs littered across Shinjuku, the bright Tokyo Tower on the horizon. He was used to shining. He needed a place that shone with him.
Koyama used to shine with him.
Noting that Koyama had gotten a few steps ahead of him as he pondered over this foreign life that the other seemed to lead, YamaPi jogged up the last few steps to catch up with Koyama, who had stopped before a plain dull blue door-one that looked like all the rest that lined the corridor. The only difference was that on the small tin box that served as the mailbox, "Koyama" has been scribbled onto a label and haphazardly taped on over the prior resident's name. YamaPi stopped himself before his hand reached out to touch the familiar name, still in slight disbelief that Koyama should live in such a shoddy place.
"Home sweet home," Koyama announced in a deadpan, pushing open the door to reveal his apartment.
YamaPi entered first, Koyama following and shutting the door behind them both. "…sorry for the intrusion," he whispered merely out of habit as he stood in the apartment entrance, taking in everything around him.
It was a one room, one bath apartment-the size of a shoebox, and to even say that was overly generous. After removing his shoes, YamaPi carefully stepped up into the small room, watching as Koyama comfortably dumped his work bag against the wall, flipped on the light switch, and padded into the adjacent kitchen to wash his hands.
Without a single inviting word, Koyama left YamaPi awkwardly standing there in the middle of it all, and it was a lot for him to take in. Absolutely bare white walls with a few random nail holes serving no purpose. Boxes upon boxes of knick knacks shoved into one corner-labeled things like "winter clothes" and "old schedules and trip fares"-serving as a makeshift computer desk for his laptop that was set on top of them, papers (from work, YamaPi assumed) scattered around on the floor. A small television with rabbit ears sat on the light tan carpeting, unplugged and lonely-looking. Next to Koyama's bed shoved into the corner was the glass sliding door that led out to the veranda, and YamaPi found himself instinctually moving toward it, seeking out air in this small, suffocating place.
"I wouldn't open that if I were you," Koyama voice warned just as YamaPi was about the push open the door. "Tomorrow is burnable garbage day; it's all out there right now."
"Oh," YamaPi returned, duly rebuked. He backed away from the door and returned to standing stiffly with his hands in his pockets.
Koyama leaned against the doorless frame dividing the kitchen and the living room and stared. This idol-who had sold millions of CDs on his own, held sold out Tokyo Dome concerts, and managed to send not only daughters and mothers, but even grandmothers into a tizzy-in his world. Five years ago, it was not such a strange thing; they had lived in the same world after all. Things were different now though-Koyama had taken a steep and sudden fall from grace while YamaPi had been raised up onto that golden pedestal-and the gap was huge.
While he had not read any of the magazine articles, Koyama occasionally watched television and even in his small, backwater town, avoiding YamaPi proved to be difficult. Every time he went to buy his favorite strawberry milk from the convenience store, right next to it on the shelf was the vegetable juice with a little pop-out advertisement of YamaPi. Last year's summer campaign for Japan Railways featured YamaPi in all their billboards and commercials as his seventh single "Summer Time" had been the tie-in song, and every day Koyama got an eyeful of the other on the commute to and from work. Of course, once he arrived in the office, all the girls could seem to talk about was the latest gossip on YamaPi-how he had been spotted drinking at an upscale bar in Ebisu with Ryo and Jin or how Ueno Juri denying that they were dating after his accidental admittance of it on a variety show caused their breakup.
To be honest, Koyama's life had been more saturated with YamaPi after he left the jimusho than before. When he did not even want to see or think of him, he was there at every turn. And that time long ago when he had wanted nothing but YamaPi, Koyama had consistently been deprived of him.
So much for out of sight, out of mind. It only worked when he could control it, and even though his life was very much his own now, there was still so much that Koyama could not dictate.
"You didn't come to see me after Johnny-san made the announcement." At the quiet start of Koyama's voice, YamaPi glanced up at him from where he had been awkwardly gazing down at his socked-toes. "You didn't call, you didn't send a message, nothing. So I assumed. And left."
YamaPi's brows narrowed at Koyama's simple explanation, said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. And maybe it was, but that still did not stop YamaPi's need to hear it from Koyama himself. "Assumed what? Left, why?"
The older man was hardly moved by YamaPi's questions, the frustration evident in his voice and his eyes imploring. Instead, he rolled off his perch against the wall and back into the kitchen. "I'm going to make some ramen; do you want some?"
Befuddled by Koyama's coolness-he had long missed that awkward, easily flustered Koyama who had a tendency to blush at the naughty things they would do in public places, but never regret them-YamaPi padded into the small kitchen to possibly help. "I had to hear it through the grapevine." If Koyama would not say anything, then YamaPi would just have to talk for the both of them. "At rehearsal for Music Station, I heard some of the juniors dancing backup for me talking about how you wouldn't be hosting Shounen Club anymore because you had quit the jimusho." Looking through the cabinets, YamaPi finally found the stash of cup ramen and reached for two. "I don't know how long I shook those juniors by the shoulders, making them tell me all they knew about you leaving, but I think I might've caused some temporary brain damage."
As he chuckled lightly, Koyama finished filling his kettle with tap water (the kitchen sink had terrible water pressure) and set it on the stove to boil.
"I remember yelling at Kawano-san after finishing the show-yelling at him for letting this happen, letting NEWS fall apart, destroying the futures of four of my friends; in my head though, I was only thinking about you." YamaPi set the two bowls of instant curry ramen on the kitchen counter next to the stove, standing at Koyama's side as he randomly poked at the plastic wrapped around the bowls. "I broke up with Yuu right after that too. She just didn't seem worthwhile anymore. The whole solo thing didn't seem worth it if it was destroying everyone and everything around me. But Johnny-san wouldn't let me give it up-he chalked it all up to growing pains and made me take on more work to compensate. In one way, I'm grateful to him for that." He looked down at Koyama's hands tightly gripping the edge of the counter. "It was really the only way I could keep sane at the time-focusing on what was in front of me and not thinking about anything else.
"It took me awhile, but it eventually caught up to me and I realized it was only a stopgap measure. Went clubbing with Ryo, got drunk, and it just all came tumbling out-or so Ryo says. I don't remember because I was so completely wasted. Him knowing helped; it wasn't like I could talk to you after all. Sure it wasn't a secret-"
"Did you even bother looking?"
YamaPi was startled by Koyama's somewhat hoarse voice that he barely registered over the gradually boiling water. With the other being so tight-lipped about everything, YamaPi had expected to have a rather long and uninterrupted monologue, but he was pleased that Koyama finally said something and that it seemed to lack the anger from before. That Koyama was coming around to the idea of him being here next to him after five years of absence. "You left without telling any of us anything; Shige didn't even know until I called him. You didn't want to be found, I thought."
Steam was rising from the spout of the kettle, faster and faster, hotter and hotter. "I didn't, but… I did hope for awhile." As if realizing his faux pas in uttering those simple and honest words, Koyama quickly covered them with, "I learned to stop hoping though. It did me no good here, in this life."
A long silence fell between the two again, both focused on the kettle of boiling water, unwilling to say anything further. Eventually, Koyama reached out and turned off the gas and YamaPi took that as his cue to rip the plastic covering off the ramen bowls.
As he tossed the trash away, Koyama picked up the bowls one by one, holding them over the sink as the poured the hot water into them.
"Will it always be like this?"
Koyama pulled open the drawer just beneath the counter and grabbed two sets of chopsticks. Placing one across the top of one of the ramen, he turned to YamaPi, offering it to him with an extended hand. "I honestly don't know."
YamaPi frowned as he took the ramen, looking more like a child denied his favorite food rather than the twenty-six year-old man that he was. Despite his seeming maturity, that face clearly had not changed as it was still terribly familiar to Koyama.
"But I do know one thing."
YamaPi lifted his eyes.
"This life? It hasn't betrayed me yet."
*~*~*
Koyama quietly shut the sliding door to the tiny veranda with one hand, his other hand heavy with two plastic bags full of his burnable garbage. He was trying to avoid waking the larger-than-life pop idol sprawled dead fast asleep on his bed, limbs thrown akimbo, head face down in the pillows. Lucky for him, YamaPi had always been and apparently still was a heavy sleeper.
It was morning, quite early actually, and even though Koyama was not expected into the office at all since it was Saturday, he decided he would go in for a half-day and get some needed filing done. Normally he would ask one of the girls to do it for him, but this time he would do it himself.
Any excuse to get out of the apartment before YamaPi woke up and Koyama had to face him again.
Last night had been difficult. Really difficult. YamaPi talking and talking, trying to get Koyama to say something-anything-in return and Koyama resisting, refusing to fall into old patterns. It would have been so easy to kiss him, to lose himself in YamaPi and that amazing world the two of them had shared; even after five years apart, leading polar opposite lives, Koyama was still drawn to him.
Part of him wondered if it was the allure of the idol-something he had never been prone to before as an idol himself-but deep down, Koyama knew that this was definitely not that. He was no fanboy. He personally knew (loved) all of YamaPi's likes and dislikes, all his quirks and faults. YamaPi could not stand walnuts and had an unreasonable fear of them since childhood. Despite already having one, he had always wanted a second bellybutton piercing, but Kawano-san had time and time again warned him off it. (Was Kawano-san still YamaPi's manager?) He actually preferred bottoming-liking the idea of being able to put that kind of trust in his partner, being able to believe.
Standing at the foot of the bed where YamaPi slept (he had opted for the floor even after YamaPi's insistence that there was more than enough room for both of them and to not be stubborn), Koyama stared at YamaPi's bare back for a long moment, recalling how he once used to playfully draw random squiggles and characters along the tan skin and spoon against its lines and curves, resting his head on YamaPi's shoulder and whispering in the dark of the night. If only he could turn back time, just live in that moment forever…
Koyama walked away from the bed, bag already slung over his shoulder. Slipping into his loafers set near the entrance, he grabbed for the door knob with his free hand. Stepping out into the breezy morning, Koyama did not even look back once, shutting the door with a soft click.
Out of sight, out of mind.
the end.
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