Prompt 8: You've Been Friday'd! (please go have your eyes examined) - Team Present
Title: Happy Accidents
Rating: PG
Pairing TOKIO gen, Joushima-centered
Summary: No one asks to get hit by a car, but when it happens, it's good to know you've got a band to back you up.
Prompt: You’ve been Friday’d! (please go have your eyes examined)
Warnings: none
Notes: Thanks to my teammate for the beta!
This wasn't how Joushima expected to end his Friday. He stepped out into the crosswalk, one foot already on the street, when he heard a voice yelling "Watch out!“ He looked to his left, saw the black Toyota and the last thing he remembered was the strange impact below his knee and the bright red of the stop light that should have stopped the car. Then things went dark.
The first time he opened his eyes, he could see fine. It was sound that had gone blurry. He was on the ground (which he vaguely realized was hard and scratchy) and there were faces surrounding him. He stared at them, because their mouths were moving but there wasn't any sound coming out. He kept staring, trying to understand, until the whirling red light of an ambulance cut through the crowd and suddenly sound came back in the rush of a siren.
As he was loaded into the ambulance, he could already feel his leg aching through the shock and the next thought that flashed through his mind was, "Thanks goodness TOKIO doesn't dance anymore," followed by a random mental image of Taichi flipping out behind his keyboards, doing some kind of strange hip twist that somehow didn't interfere with his fingers hitting the keys. Astonished at his mind's capacity to think about work when he could possibly be dying, Joushima closed his eyes and willed away any thought, focusing only on the distant wail of the siren above the roof, the faint electronic noises of the medical equipment and the erratic human sounds of ambulance staff around him.
The doors opened, the stretcher slid out and Joushima blinked at the bright sunshine outside. And then he blinked again, wondering if his last mental image had turned into a dream state about his band members, because how could Yamaguchi have gotten here before the ambulance did? Joushima didn't even know where he was, much less conscious enough to tell anyone or give directions.
But as he opened and closed his eyes again and again, Yamaguchi didn't go away. In fact, he only got closer and closer until Joushima could almost count the freckles on his face.
"Is he...awake?"
The ambulance tech beat Joushima to the punch. "He seems to be fine."
"Tatsuya..." Joushima croaked, surprised to feel his voice lumber out of his throat like a stricken frog.
"What are you doing here?"
There was no missing the relief on Yamaguchi's face, even as he started jogging to keep up with the stretcher that was now scooting through the open emergency room doors.
"I got a call," he said. And then, "Don't worry, everything's going to be okay."
Joushima closed his eyes for what felt like the thousandth time today. But this time it was with a strange sense of comfort, with the assurance that everything would be okay, because Yamaguchi was there to say so.
Two hours, one CAT scan and twelve stitches later, the doctors had pronounced Joushima alive, with chances of a full recovery at ninety-nine percent.
("Because it's never one-hundred," Yamaguchi said behind his hand. "You could spontaneously combust or something.")
"It could have been much worse," the doctor said. "No broken bones, no brain injury, just scrapes and bruises. You should stay off that leg for a week or so, and otherwise, just take it easy."
Joushima nodded. This was one way to force your manager to give you a vacation. Not that he was the most overworked of TOKIO, but it was still nearly impossible to get more than two days off at once, even if all you were doing was photoshoots, radio and filming a TV show.
Yamaguchi had stepped aside while the doctor ran through the final list of instructions but now he was back at Joushima's side, eyes twinkling.
"You have some visitors," he said, with a tiny smirk. "Do you want to go to see them?"
Joushima shifted uncomfortably. They'd put him in a wheelchair because of his leg and he still wasn't sure how he felt about making it go in a straight line. But before he could say anything, Yamaguchi was standing behind him and he felt pressure against his back as the chair started rolling forward.
It was slightly terrifying at first--Yamaguchi was strong and walked quickly and dear god, were there even any brakes on this thing if something were to happen?--but it only took two gliding turns around corners for Joushima to realize that he was enjoying the ride, just sitting back with his hands folded in his lap. He felt something lift away and realized that while he'd never fully embraced his role as leader of a band, the responsibility was always hanging over his head. And now he felt no weight at all, just contented butterflies in his stomach as Yamaguchi guided him safely through the hallway corridors.
They rounded a final corner and came in view of a bench containing the two visitors in question. Joushima could almost feel Yamaguchi's smile at the sight of Mabo and Nagase, their tall, manly shapes sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the white walls and hunched doctors of the hospital. Mabo was tapping his toes and fiddling his fingers against his bony knees; Nagase's arms were crossed and the only indication of his worry was his wiggling heel and twitching shoulder.
They stood up when they saw him, cautious relief clearly written on their faces when they realized that there was nothing seriously wrong with him.
"He's going to be just fine," Yamaguchi announced as he rolled the wheelchair to a stop.
"We weren't that worried," Mabo said quickly. "I thought this might be your excuse to get out of filming DASH this week."
Nagase at least pretended to care by first saying, "I'm glad to hear that," but he followed that with, "Are you sure you'll be able to return to work? It takes old people awhile to recover from things like this."
"I'm not that old," Joushima feebly protested, knowing that this was a refrain he would be hearing until the day he died. He decided to change the subject.
"How did you hear? And why are you here? Don't you both have work today?" He looked up at their faces, even higher above his head than they normally were. He distinctly remembered that Nagase was filming for his drama nearly every day this week.
Both Mabo and Nagase looked at their shoes with a lot of hemming and hawing. Joushima was about to press them when another voice interrupted:
"Leader!"
There was no mistaking that voice and Joushima's couldn't stop his head from instantly turning to find the face that went with it, sore neck or no.
It was Taichi, and he was jogging through the corridors, his jacket flapping and a pair of glasses bouncing on his nose in an oddly endearing way. He ran up to Joushima, babbling something about filming running long and Leader looks almost fine, what actually happened? and the whole monologue was capped by a slightly awkward hug involving Taichi sticking his butt out in order to reach down and clasp Joushima's shoulders properly.
"You don't need to hurt him more," Yamaguchi said, swatting lightly at Taichi's shoulder.
"I'm just happy to see that he's okay!" Taichi protested, giving Yamaguchi a quick hug for good measure. "Are you being released today?"
"They want to keep me at the hospital tonight to monitor me," Joushima said. "But I'll probably be out tomorrow."
Everyone seemed to relax at this and Yamaguchi clapped his hands together. "Well then," he said. "Let's go find your room."
"Wait, all of us?" Joushima asked, but Nagase had already snagged a passing doctor to ask about the nearest elevator and Mabo was shouldering his bag with the clear intention of following Taichi who had pretty much attached himself to Yamaguchi who was obviously going to continue pushing the wheel chair.
"We're going this way," Nagase announced, pointing enthusiastically down a hallway. "Elevator, ho!"
It took significantly longer to find the room than one would expect with five grown men on the job, but after getting off on the wrong floor three times, several wrong turns and risking the ire of the nurse on duty when they mistakenly tried to enter the maternity ward, Joushima was safely deposited in his private room.
It was then that Nagase glanced at his watch.
"I've got to go," he said finally. "But I'll be back later tonight. Will everyone be here?"
Joushima wondered at the question and wondered even more at the unanimous response.
Mabo and Taichi followed Nagase's example and returned to work, but Yamaguchi didn't seem to have anything scheduled, so Joushima spent the afternoon watching variety TV with Yamaguchi lounging in the chair beside him. They both laughed a little at the earnest new talent that was making the rounds, nearly cried at the same sob story on a women's show, and took turns trying to imitate the comedy style of Downtown.
Joushima knew he was in for more than he bargained for when Mabo arrived back at the room carrying a bag that clunked with objects that sounded suspiciously like beer cans.
"How did you bring that in?" Joushima asked, gaping.
"I have my ways," Mabo said, winking.
Yamaguchi didn't bother with such details, immediately pulling out a can and popping it open.
Taichi arrived next with a large bag of take-out and by the time Nagase rolled in with more alcoholic reinforcements, Joushima sighed and resigned himself to his fate.
Two hours later, everyone was at least two beers in except for Joushima, thanks to Mabo's indignant protest
“You're in the hospital, you can't drink!” Taichi was already looking slightly dazed while Nagase was clearly just getting started.
“We should see if you can order movies,” Mabo said, pawing through the desk drawer below the small TV.
“Let's just see what's on,” Yamaguchi said, reaching for the remote.
“I would have missed you,” Taichi said suddenly, staggering over to the hospital bed and flopping down on it.
“It's not a good idea to get hit by cars.”
Joushima wanted to say that he didn't really choose to get run over, but one look at Taichi's grin and he could only return an affectionate smile.
“It's nice to be able to sit around and drink like this,” Yamaguchi said, turning away from the TV.
“Hospitals aren't so bad,” Taichi agreed.
“Not when you can sneak in something to drink,” Nagase pointed out.
The conversation derailed again into some memory about a post-filming drinking session where everyone ended up wearing someone else's shirt, but Joushima wasn't really listening to the words. He let the voices, chiming into a rough yet strangely harmonious chorus, wash over him and before he knew it, he was dozing off.
When he woke up he had to smile at the sight of Taichi propped up between Mabo and Nagase, almost childlike with his head on Mabo's shoulder and his hand clasped in Nagase's grip. Yamaguchi was in the chair next to the bed, his head propped up on his arm, looking equally exhausted. They all looked utterly drained and yet somehow completely at home in their haphazard sleeping poses.
Joushima tried to imagine this happening when they were all younger and Taichi was stretched thin all the time and Yamaguchi was still worried about juggling band and girlfriend and Nagase was finding his feet and Mabo was constantly acting out and unsure of his direction. Then the air in the hospital room would have been thick with awkwardness and confusion and tension.
But not now. Now the awkwardness was laced with familiarity, the confusion turned to trust, and tension replaced with comfort. And looking around the sleeping room, he saw something that he'd somehow known all along but never seen before. He saw five utterly different men, who would never have picked each other out on the street. He saw faces that he had seen in a thousand ways--on stage, in a tiny solar-powered van, across an interview set, on a review screen at a PV shooting. But most of all, he saw something more than five individuals. It was a single group, a five-way marriage that didn't need a ceremony to make it official or real. It was simply the product of an uneasy agreement that their lives had been thrown together by forces outside of their control and they were going to take what they had been given, stay true to themselves and make it work together, whatever that meant.
He sat in silence for a little longer, enjoying the quiet, but finally decided that he needed to get them out of the room and home before he dozed off again. Yamaguchi was closest and Joushima mustered up the energy to reach out and tap his shoulder.
"Uhhhhmmm?" was the coherent response.
"You should all go home," Joushima said, knowing this might be a futile exercise.
"What?"
"Go home, go to bed," he said, feeling that Yamaguchi probably still hadn't caught a word he'd said.
Mabo had woken up though and was shaking his head slightly. "We probably should, huh? We have to pick up the slack at work tomorrow."
But the words, which could have been seen as sharp or sarcastic were gentle, their roughness well worn among the assembled group of men.
"Taichi's not going to be able to walk," Nagase put in, his eyes still closed.
"Will too," Taichi mumbled.
Yamaguchi chuckled tiredly. "I can carry him to the car. Let's go and let Leader get his sleep."
Joushima watched as Mabo and Nagase staggered to their feet, nodding their good-byes before walking out the door. He felt the tight grip of Taichi's hand as he said, "Stay strong, okay Leader?" before falling backward against Yamaguchi's shoulder.
"Sleep well," Yamaguchi said, carefully pushing Taichi in front of him towards the door. Before leaving he turned to look at Joushima, tucked into the hospital bed.
"You know at this point you couldn't get rid of us if you tried."
And Joushima felt a smile grow across his face as he closed his eyes to go to sleep. Beer, awkward confessions of friendship and car accidents. That was TOKIO.
Even with his slightly throbbing head he'd never trade it in or change his vision.
Poll Team Present
Rating: PG
Pairing TOKIO gen, Joushima-centered
Summary: No one asks to get hit by a car, but when it happens, it's good to know you've got a band to back you up.
Prompt: You’ve been Friday’d! (please go have your eyes examined)
Warnings: none
Notes: Thanks to my teammate for the beta!
This wasn't how Joushima expected to end his Friday. He stepped out into the crosswalk, one foot already on the street, when he heard a voice yelling "Watch out!“ He looked to his left, saw the black Toyota and the last thing he remembered was the strange impact below his knee and the bright red of the stop light that should have stopped the car. Then things went dark.
The first time he opened his eyes, he could see fine. It was sound that had gone blurry. He was on the ground (which he vaguely realized was hard and scratchy) and there were faces surrounding him. He stared at them, because their mouths were moving but there wasn't any sound coming out. He kept staring, trying to understand, until the whirling red light of an ambulance cut through the crowd and suddenly sound came back in the rush of a siren.
As he was loaded into the ambulance, he could already feel his leg aching through the shock and the next thought that flashed through his mind was, "Thanks goodness TOKIO doesn't dance anymore," followed by a random mental image of Taichi flipping out behind his keyboards, doing some kind of strange hip twist that somehow didn't interfere with his fingers hitting the keys. Astonished at his mind's capacity to think about work when he could possibly be dying, Joushima closed his eyes and willed away any thought, focusing only on the distant wail of the siren above the roof, the faint electronic noises of the medical equipment and the erratic human sounds of ambulance staff around him.
The doors opened, the stretcher slid out and Joushima blinked at the bright sunshine outside. And then he blinked again, wondering if his last mental image had turned into a dream state about his band members, because how could Yamaguchi have gotten here before the ambulance did? Joushima didn't even know where he was, much less conscious enough to tell anyone or give directions.
But as he opened and closed his eyes again and again, Yamaguchi didn't go away. In fact, he only got closer and closer until Joushima could almost count the freckles on his face.
"Is he...awake?"
The ambulance tech beat Joushima to the punch. "He seems to be fine."
"Tatsuya..." Joushima croaked, surprised to feel his voice lumber out of his throat like a stricken frog.
"What are you doing here?"
There was no missing the relief on Yamaguchi's face, even as he started jogging to keep up with the stretcher that was now scooting through the open emergency room doors.
"I got a call," he said. And then, "Don't worry, everything's going to be okay."
Joushima closed his eyes for what felt like the thousandth time today. But this time it was with a strange sense of comfort, with the assurance that everything would be okay, because Yamaguchi was there to say so.
Two hours, one CAT scan and twelve stitches later, the doctors had pronounced Joushima alive, with chances of a full recovery at ninety-nine percent.
("Because it's never one-hundred," Yamaguchi said behind his hand. "You could spontaneously combust or something.")
"It could have been much worse," the doctor said. "No broken bones, no brain injury, just scrapes and bruises. You should stay off that leg for a week or so, and otherwise, just take it easy."
Joushima nodded. This was one way to force your manager to give you a vacation. Not that he was the most overworked of TOKIO, but it was still nearly impossible to get more than two days off at once, even if all you were doing was photoshoots, radio and filming a TV show.
Yamaguchi had stepped aside while the doctor ran through the final list of instructions but now he was back at Joushima's side, eyes twinkling.
"You have some visitors," he said, with a tiny smirk. "Do you want to go to see them?"
Joushima shifted uncomfortably. They'd put him in a wheelchair because of his leg and he still wasn't sure how he felt about making it go in a straight line. But before he could say anything, Yamaguchi was standing behind him and he felt pressure against his back as the chair started rolling forward.
It was slightly terrifying at first--Yamaguchi was strong and walked quickly and dear god, were there even any brakes on this thing if something were to happen?--but it only took two gliding turns around corners for Joushima to realize that he was enjoying the ride, just sitting back with his hands folded in his lap. He felt something lift away and realized that while he'd never fully embraced his role as leader of a band, the responsibility was always hanging over his head. And now he felt no weight at all, just contented butterflies in his stomach as Yamaguchi guided him safely through the hallway corridors.
They rounded a final corner and came in view of a bench containing the two visitors in question. Joushima could almost feel Yamaguchi's smile at the sight of Mabo and Nagase, their tall, manly shapes sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the white walls and hunched doctors of the hospital. Mabo was tapping his toes and fiddling his fingers against his bony knees; Nagase's arms were crossed and the only indication of his worry was his wiggling heel and twitching shoulder.
They stood up when they saw him, cautious relief clearly written on their faces when they realized that there was nothing seriously wrong with him.
"He's going to be just fine," Yamaguchi announced as he rolled the wheelchair to a stop.
"We weren't that worried," Mabo said quickly. "I thought this might be your excuse to get out of filming DASH this week."
Nagase at least pretended to care by first saying, "I'm glad to hear that," but he followed that with, "Are you sure you'll be able to return to work? It takes old people awhile to recover from things like this."
"I'm not that old," Joushima feebly protested, knowing that this was a refrain he would be hearing until the day he died. He decided to change the subject.
"How did you hear? And why are you here? Don't you both have work today?" He looked up at their faces, even higher above his head than they normally were. He distinctly remembered that Nagase was filming for his drama nearly every day this week.
Both Mabo and Nagase looked at their shoes with a lot of hemming and hawing. Joushima was about to press them when another voice interrupted:
"Leader!"
There was no mistaking that voice and Joushima's couldn't stop his head from instantly turning to find the face that went with it, sore neck or no.
It was Taichi, and he was jogging through the corridors, his jacket flapping and a pair of glasses bouncing on his nose in an oddly endearing way. He ran up to Joushima, babbling something about filming running long and Leader looks almost fine, what actually happened? and the whole monologue was capped by a slightly awkward hug involving Taichi sticking his butt out in order to reach down and clasp Joushima's shoulders properly.
"You don't need to hurt him more," Yamaguchi said, swatting lightly at Taichi's shoulder.
"I'm just happy to see that he's okay!" Taichi protested, giving Yamaguchi a quick hug for good measure. "Are you being released today?"
"They want to keep me at the hospital tonight to monitor me," Joushima said. "But I'll probably be out tomorrow."
Everyone seemed to relax at this and Yamaguchi clapped his hands together. "Well then," he said. "Let's go find your room."
"Wait, all of us?" Joushima asked, but Nagase had already snagged a passing doctor to ask about the nearest elevator and Mabo was shouldering his bag with the clear intention of following Taichi who had pretty much attached himself to Yamaguchi who was obviously going to continue pushing the wheel chair.
"We're going this way," Nagase announced, pointing enthusiastically down a hallway. "Elevator, ho!"
It took significantly longer to find the room than one would expect with five grown men on the job, but after getting off on the wrong floor three times, several wrong turns and risking the ire of the nurse on duty when they mistakenly tried to enter the maternity ward, Joushima was safely deposited in his private room.
It was then that Nagase glanced at his watch.
"I've got to go," he said finally. "But I'll be back later tonight. Will everyone be here?"
Joushima wondered at the question and wondered even more at the unanimous response.
Mabo and Taichi followed Nagase's example and returned to work, but Yamaguchi didn't seem to have anything scheduled, so Joushima spent the afternoon watching variety TV with Yamaguchi lounging in the chair beside him. They both laughed a little at the earnest new talent that was making the rounds, nearly cried at the same sob story on a women's show, and took turns trying to imitate the comedy style of Downtown.
Joushima knew he was in for more than he bargained for when Mabo arrived back at the room carrying a bag that clunked with objects that sounded suspiciously like beer cans.
"How did you bring that in?" Joushima asked, gaping.
"I have my ways," Mabo said, winking.
Yamaguchi didn't bother with such details, immediately pulling out a can and popping it open.
Taichi arrived next with a large bag of take-out and by the time Nagase rolled in with more alcoholic reinforcements, Joushima sighed and resigned himself to his fate.
Two hours later, everyone was at least two beers in except for Joushima, thanks to Mabo's indignant protest
“You're in the hospital, you can't drink!” Taichi was already looking slightly dazed while Nagase was clearly just getting started.
“We should see if you can order movies,” Mabo said, pawing through the desk drawer below the small TV.
“Let's just see what's on,” Yamaguchi said, reaching for the remote.
“I would have missed you,” Taichi said suddenly, staggering over to the hospital bed and flopping down on it.
“It's not a good idea to get hit by cars.”
Joushima wanted to say that he didn't really choose to get run over, but one look at Taichi's grin and he could only return an affectionate smile.
“It's nice to be able to sit around and drink like this,” Yamaguchi said, turning away from the TV.
“Hospitals aren't so bad,” Taichi agreed.
“Not when you can sneak in something to drink,” Nagase pointed out.
The conversation derailed again into some memory about a post-filming drinking session where everyone ended up wearing someone else's shirt, but Joushima wasn't really listening to the words. He let the voices, chiming into a rough yet strangely harmonious chorus, wash over him and before he knew it, he was dozing off.
When he woke up he had to smile at the sight of Taichi propped up between Mabo and Nagase, almost childlike with his head on Mabo's shoulder and his hand clasped in Nagase's grip. Yamaguchi was in the chair next to the bed, his head propped up on his arm, looking equally exhausted. They all looked utterly drained and yet somehow completely at home in their haphazard sleeping poses.
Joushima tried to imagine this happening when they were all younger and Taichi was stretched thin all the time and Yamaguchi was still worried about juggling band and girlfriend and Nagase was finding his feet and Mabo was constantly acting out and unsure of his direction. Then the air in the hospital room would have been thick with awkwardness and confusion and tension.
But not now. Now the awkwardness was laced with familiarity, the confusion turned to trust, and tension replaced with comfort. And looking around the sleeping room, he saw something that he'd somehow known all along but never seen before. He saw five utterly different men, who would never have picked each other out on the street. He saw faces that he had seen in a thousand ways--on stage, in a tiny solar-powered van, across an interview set, on a review screen at a PV shooting. But most of all, he saw something more than five individuals. It was a single group, a five-way marriage that didn't need a ceremony to make it official or real. It was simply the product of an uneasy agreement that their lives had been thrown together by forces outside of their control and they were going to take what they had been given, stay true to themselves and make it work together, whatever that meant.
He sat in silence for a little longer, enjoying the quiet, but finally decided that he needed to get them out of the room and home before he dozed off again. Yamaguchi was closest and Joushima mustered up the energy to reach out and tap his shoulder.
"Uhhhhmmm?" was the coherent response.
"You should all go home," Joushima said, knowing this might be a futile exercise.
"What?"
"Go home, go to bed," he said, feeling that Yamaguchi probably still hadn't caught a word he'd said.
Mabo had woken up though and was shaking his head slightly. "We probably should, huh? We have to pick up the slack at work tomorrow."
But the words, which could have been seen as sharp or sarcastic were gentle, their roughness well worn among the assembled group of men.
"Taichi's not going to be able to walk," Nagase put in, his eyes still closed.
"Will too," Taichi mumbled.
Yamaguchi chuckled tiredly. "I can carry him to the car. Let's go and let Leader get his sleep."
Joushima watched as Mabo and Nagase staggered to their feet, nodding their good-byes before walking out the door. He felt the tight grip of Taichi's hand as he said, "Stay strong, okay Leader?" before falling backward against Yamaguchi's shoulder.
"Sleep well," Yamaguchi said, carefully pushing Taichi in front of him towards the door. Before leaving he turned to look at Joushima, tucked into the hospital bed.
"You know at this point you couldn't get rid of us if you tried."
And Joushima felt a smile grow across his face as he closed his eyes to go to sleep. Beer, awkward confessions of friendship and car accidents. That was TOKIO.
Even with his slightly throbbing head he'd never trade it in or change his vision.
Poll Team Present