Last Rites - Sapuri, PG
title: Last Rites
author: nihongofrancais
genre: Japanese drama, Sapuri (spoilers through the tenth episode)
pairing: implied Ishida Yuuya/Fujii Minami
disclaimer: I do not own. Fuji TV owns a lot more than me.
summary: His last moments at Creative Agency.
author's Note: Written for sugarsicons's challenge, but I failed because one thing is missing. ;P I can't help it! Like it would be foggy in Tokyo in September! *giggle* I'm not exactly pleased with this, but I tend to be pretty hard on myself; it's also been almost two years since I last wrote. So, yeah. You judge. *grin* Much love to anamuan who beta-read despite having not seen Sapuri and knowing nothing. *giggle* (originally written January 28, 2007)
It is late.
No one is around. On the way in, he exchanged pleasantries with the security guard who was finishing his rounds; it would be a few hours before the older man returns to make another set of rounds.
In a few hours, he would be gone.
With the overhead lights dimmed to half-power, he set to work at his desk.
Books on writing the proper self-PR, the basics of advertising, preparing for an interview. Books given to him by Watanabe, supporting him when he was determined to give this world his best shot. Books given to him by Fujii, determined to help him show everyone his true worth.
Fujii.
No, Minami.
He snatches a handful of papers out of a bin where they had been tossed haphazardly aside and begins sorting through them, piling them next to the books. The potato chips CM sketch. The curry slogans. The bug spray presentation. The old him would have seen it all as a waste of energy and time, especially with the results they garnered in the end. But the new him-current him-examines each item with a sense of achievement. And longing. He's come this far, but not on his own. And now, he has to leave.
Leave the one who had shown him the self-confidence within himself.
Finished now, the desk looks much cleaner. Much emptier.
Next, he searches for a blank piece of paper and when the desk does not yield one, he glances over his shoulder and spies some at another desk.
Her desk.
He hesitates, but eventually rises from his chair and takes the few steps he must before arriving at the desk. His gaze lingers over the entire piece of furniture, taking in its appearance-tidy, everything in its right place. He knows where to get the piece of paper and where to find a pen as well. However, he chooses to be swept up in the moment-forgetting the needed stationary-and begins to explore the desk instead.
He slides open the large drawer of the file cabinet beneath and smirks to himself as he peeks inside. Endless amounts of files, but in the far back, almost hidden away, are a pair of simplistic black high heels. "You never know when you'll need a pair," he recalls her telling him the first time he found them stashed away. "I have a terrible habit of breaking my heels." She's so completely prepared when it comes to work that everything else fades out of importance. Exactly why he ended up repairing her entire apartment the other day.
It's only halfway through remembering that day that he recognizes that he is grinning like an idiot. Quickly, he puts an end to that, slamming the drawer shut. Grabbing a pen and paper, he returns to the desk, no longer his.
"Sorry. Please throw these things out." He hunches over and writes this quickly, but then his hand slows as he finishes the note off with his name; while he understood his situation before, the gravity only now seems to be truly setting in. Straightening, the paper slips from his fingertips and settles on top of the piles of papers and books.
He stands there for a moment, taking in the scene before him. And then, he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a thick white envelope. He carefully sets it flat on the desk so that it can be clearly seen.
Next, he tugs off the lanyard around his neck and places it and the identification badge attached to it beside the envelope. He stares at the badge for a moment, then pushes it a little closer to the envelope, satisfied it's in the right place.
Lastly, from the back pocket of his jeans, he produces a clean and simple tie - sky blue with contrasting blue and white diagonal lines. For a long time he just holds it in his hands, looking at it intensely. It's only when he moves to gently place it on the desk and his tear hits the surface that he realizes that he's crying.
He'd never thought himself fragile, but right then, Ishida Yuuya thinks he knows what it feels like to be shattered glass.
the end.
author: nihongofrancais
genre: Japanese drama, Sapuri (spoilers through the tenth episode)
pairing: implied Ishida Yuuya/Fujii Minami
disclaimer: I do not own. Fuji TV owns a lot more than me.
summary: His last moments at Creative Agency.
author's Note: Written for sugarsicons's challenge, but I failed because one thing is missing. ;P I can't help it! Like it would be foggy in Tokyo in September! *giggle* I'm not exactly pleased with this, but I tend to be pretty hard on myself; it's also been almost two years since I last wrote. So, yeah. You judge. *grin* Much love to anamuan who beta-read despite having not seen Sapuri and knowing nothing. *giggle* (originally written January 28, 2007)
It is late.
No one is around. On the way in, he exchanged pleasantries with the security guard who was finishing his rounds; it would be a few hours before the older man returns to make another set of rounds.
In a few hours, he would be gone.
With the overhead lights dimmed to half-power, he set to work at his desk.
Books on writing the proper self-PR, the basics of advertising, preparing for an interview. Books given to him by Watanabe, supporting him when he was determined to give this world his best shot. Books given to him by Fujii, determined to help him show everyone his true worth.
Fujii.
No, Minami.
He snatches a handful of papers out of a bin where they had been tossed haphazardly aside and begins sorting through them, piling them next to the books. The potato chips CM sketch. The curry slogans. The bug spray presentation. The old him would have seen it all as a waste of energy and time, especially with the results they garnered in the end. But the new him-current him-examines each item with a sense of achievement. And longing. He's come this far, but not on his own. And now, he has to leave.
Leave the one who had shown him the self-confidence within himself.
Finished now, the desk looks much cleaner. Much emptier.
Next, he searches for a blank piece of paper and when the desk does not yield one, he glances over his shoulder and spies some at another desk.
Her desk.
He hesitates, but eventually rises from his chair and takes the few steps he must before arriving at the desk. His gaze lingers over the entire piece of furniture, taking in its appearance-tidy, everything in its right place. He knows where to get the piece of paper and where to find a pen as well. However, he chooses to be swept up in the moment-forgetting the needed stationary-and begins to explore the desk instead.
He slides open the large drawer of the file cabinet beneath and smirks to himself as he peeks inside. Endless amounts of files, but in the far back, almost hidden away, are a pair of simplistic black high heels. "You never know when you'll need a pair," he recalls her telling him the first time he found them stashed away. "I have a terrible habit of breaking my heels." She's so completely prepared when it comes to work that everything else fades out of importance. Exactly why he ended up repairing her entire apartment the other day.
It's only halfway through remembering that day that he recognizes that he is grinning like an idiot. Quickly, he puts an end to that, slamming the drawer shut. Grabbing a pen and paper, he returns to the desk, no longer his.
"Sorry. Please throw these things out." He hunches over and writes this quickly, but then his hand slows as he finishes the note off with his name; while he understood his situation before, the gravity only now seems to be truly setting in. Straightening, the paper slips from his fingertips and settles on top of the piles of papers and books.
He stands there for a moment, taking in the scene before him. And then, he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a thick white envelope. He carefully sets it flat on the desk so that it can be clearly seen.
Next, he tugs off the lanyard around his neck and places it and the identification badge attached to it beside the envelope. He stares at the badge for a moment, then pushes it a little closer to the envelope, satisfied it's in the right place.
Lastly, from the back pocket of his jeans, he produces a clean and simple tie - sky blue with contrasting blue and white diagonal lines. For a long time he just holds it in his hands, looking at it intensely. It's only when he moves to gently place it on the desk and his tear hits the surface that he realizes that he's crying.
He'd never thought himself fragile, but right then, Ishida Yuuya thinks he knows what it feels like to be shattered glass.
the end.