Chocolate Fic for kono_sora_ni
To: kono_sora_ni
From: miss_jelly
Title: Remember Me Once in a While
Pairing: Yamashita Tomohisa/Aragaki Yui
Rating: PG
Summary: Yui struggles with a memory from her past and slowly accepts it into her present.
A/N: AU. Also, let it be known that this is all fiction and was written in the name of fiction. It is not a reflection of my own views. For kono_sora_ni. I hope you enjoy this, and happy white day :)
Common as it was, it was never a kind sight to see the brothels at the edge of town. On the occasion that work brings her to the outskirts, Yui finds that while her will has never faltered in keeping her gaze averted, her heart always aches as she imagines their faces- and most of all, their eyes. She drives past quickly and doesn't look back. In an age where men served under woman's heel, she forced herself not to look back.
She's already forgotten about the brothel by the time she arrives at her destination, a grocer's market- part of the chain she works for- and begins her monthly inspection, taking notes on the clerks' performances and calling in to maintenance whenever she spotted a burnt-out light bulb. It seems like simple work but her judgment and eye are being tested and trusted by hundreds- and everyone knows that only a woman could handle such a task.
Her focus lasts until the drive back, a flat tire stranding her a block from- and within view of- the sad picture from a few hours ago. She calls in a tow, giving the woman on the line her location, albeit a bit reluctantly- the only other reason anyone would be in this certain area wasn't hard to guess- and turns on the radio in an attempt to calm herself.
She was glad, at least, that the men of the brothel weren't allowed to approach women- their rules were strict and called for severe punishment when broken.
Five minutes into the wait and plenty of radio ads later, she could feel her resolve breaking down under the weight of her own curiosity. A need to know had her eyes slowly scanning over the faces only a few yards away, all of which were just as she'd thought- down-turned gazes and sallow skin- except one who stares back at her with eyes that look blank and piercing at the same time. She looks away.
Every month on the same day Yui drives the same route past the same building and tries not to see the faces in front of it. She lasts until the trip back every time and always the same eyes are looking back.
She tries not to think about it, which works well enough when more pressing matters are at hand, but at the end of the day when she comes home and tosses in her bed, she can't pull her mind away from the man, nor her eyes from the locked desk drawer across the room.
Yui's home is a one bedroom apartment, white walls and carpet and classy neutral-colored furniture. There are books holding up a glass panel that serves as her coffee table- something left over from her mother's decorating stints, all of the books also having belonged to her mother- and it looks tacky and out of place and she loves it. There are no pictures on the walls or on the mantle, just one photo album locked away in a desk that's too small for her to sit at and too old for anyone else to appreciate. Sometimes Yui thinks about unlocking the drawer and letting herself look, but she is quick to steel herself and turn away.
Another month and another inspection, she watches the faces whiz by there and back, this time and feels as well as sees those eyes on her. When she gets home, she unlocks the drawer and sits at her mother's coffee table as she turns the pages. She passes over smiling faces of children from her class- all girls- and rapidly flips to the page she memorized- ironically she'd memorized it's place in order to avoid it- and looked into the eyes of the two smiling girls and their mothers standing behind them.
Yui doesn't wait another month to drive to the outskirts. She parks four blocks from the building in a rival grocer's lot and walks with as confident a gait as she can manage with that picture weighing down her pocket and her mind.
His eyes are closed when she approaches the door, slipping inside the establishment and regarding the woman behind what she could only assume was the check-in counter. Yui places her order, is lead to a room down a dimly lit hall- the bed is made and appears crisp and clean even under the seedy atmosphere the building exudes- and she paces as she waits.
Nearly five minutes later, a man comes through the door, hair damp- obviously he'd been cleaned from the dirt of the street- and he ambles to the bed. Only once he's settled does he look at her and Yui can't help but notice the way his eyes stay hard even when he's out from under more watchful eyes than her own.
Yui sets straight her thoughts before stepping forward and standing in front of him. His gaze never falters, still searing through her, and she envies his resolve. She wonders if he was always this strong- if he'd always be this strong. The thought makes her heart ache.
They regard each other for what feels like too long before Yui finds the words to speak. “Do you remember me?” He blinks and Yui already knows the answer- he does, he has to remember. She takes the picture out from her pocket and shows it to him.
His eyes linger on each face- they both know he remembers. She sees that resolve start to melt under the smiling stares of the four faces in the photo, he blinks again and looks up at her, “Dresses don't suit me, anymore,” and Yui laughs until her face is red and tears come from her eyes.
“Tomoka-chan, I'm sorry,” she chokes on the vowels, but he still understands, shaking his head as he smiles slightly and catches her eyes in his stare- no longer hard and cold as stone, but something closer to content- “My name is Tomohisa. Don't be sorry.”
Yui stays long enough for the redness in her cheeks to fade and the puffiness of her eyes to disappear. She checks out and drives home, willing that feeling of satisfaction to fill the holes guilt has punctured into her. That night she dreams about the past, about Tomoka-chan and the day she was taken away. Police officers had come to Tomoka-chan's house and taken her and her mother off in their cars while Yui cried on the porch. She dreamed about how her own mother had told her that Tomoka-chan had been hiding and all Yui had done was find her, it wasn't her fault that everyone else found her, too.
Yui wakes in a sweat, trying not to remember how her mother had been taken right after that- aiding and abetting. She tries to forget how she'd told her teachers about Tomoka-chan being different, forget how Tomoka-chan's eyes had bored into hers as they shut her in the car and drove away.
She drives back to the brothel in the morning.
She knows that women, in this day and age, are the ones who carry the power. Women are strong and independent. Even so, she feels the voids filling as she watches Tomohisa move about her apartment in a way that seems to confident to really be considered manly- she wonders if that can be attributed to his growing up in the guise of a female. He crouches at the table and pulls a book from one of the columns and reads the title and Yui smiles.
One day he asks her, “Do you still think of me as your best friend, Tomoka-chan?” Yui doesn't think twice before shaking her head. “No, but I'd like to think of you as my best friend, Tomohisa.” He smiles and there's a glint in his eyes that brings Yui to smile, as well.
Yui takes a different route to make her monthly inspection, no more curiosity eating away the corners of her mind, and when she returns home from work and finds Tomohisa reading on the couch, he smiles. “Welcome home,” he says before going back to the book and Yui knows it won't be hard to get used to this.
From: miss_jelly
Title: Remember Me Once in a While
Pairing: Yamashita Tomohisa/Aragaki Yui
Rating: PG
Summary: Yui struggles with a memory from her past and slowly accepts it into her present.
A/N: AU. Also, let it be known that this is all fiction and was written in the name of fiction. It is not a reflection of my own views. For kono_sora_ni. I hope you enjoy this, and happy white day :)
Common as it was, it was never a kind sight to see the brothels at the edge of town. On the occasion that work brings her to the outskirts, Yui finds that while her will has never faltered in keeping her gaze averted, her heart always aches as she imagines their faces- and most of all, their eyes. She drives past quickly and doesn't look back. In an age where men served under woman's heel, she forced herself not to look back.
She's already forgotten about the brothel by the time she arrives at her destination, a grocer's market- part of the chain she works for- and begins her monthly inspection, taking notes on the clerks' performances and calling in to maintenance whenever she spotted a burnt-out light bulb. It seems like simple work but her judgment and eye are being tested and trusted by hundreds- and everyone knows that only a woman could handle such a task.
Her focus lasts until the drive back, a flat tire stranding her a block from- and within view of- the sad picture from a few hours ago. She calls in a tow, giving the woman on the line her location, albeit a bit reluctantly- the only other reason anyone would be in this certain area wasn't hard to guess- and turns on the radio in an attempt to calm herself.
She was glad, at least, that the men of the brothel weren't allowed to approach women- their rules were strict and called for severe punishment when broken.
Five minutes into the wait and plenty of radio ads later, she could feel her resolve breaking down under the weight of her own curiosity. A need to know had her eyes slowly scanning over the faces only a few yards away, all of which were just as she'd thought- down-turned gazes and sallow skin- except one who stares back at her with eyes that look blank and piercing at the same time. She looks away.
Every month on the same day Yui drives the same route past the same building and tries not to see the faces in front of it. She lasts until the trip back every time and always the same eyes are looking back.
She tries not to think about it, which works well enough when more pressing matters are at hand, but at the end of the day when she comes home and tosses in her bed, she can't pull her mind away from the man, nor her eyes from the locked desk drawer across the room.
Yui's home is a one bedroom apartment, white walls and carpet and classy neutral-colored furniture. There are books holding up a glass panel that serves as her coffee table- something left over from her mother's decorating stints, all of the books also having belonged to her mother- and it looks tacky and out of place and she loves it. There are no pictures on the walls or on the mantle, just one photo album locked away in a desk that's too small for her to sit at and too old for anyone else to appreciate. Sometimes Yui thinks about unlocking the drawer and letting herself look, but she is quick to steel herself and turn away.
Another month and another inspection, she watches the faces whiz by there and back, this time and feels as well as sees those eyes on her. When she gets home, she unlocks the drawer and sits at her mother's coffee table as she turns the pages. She passes over smiling faces of children from her class- all girls- and rapidly flips to the page she memorized- ironically she'd memorized it's place in order to avoid it- and looked into the eyes of the two smiling girls and their mothers standing behind them.
Yui doesn't wait another month to drive to the outskirts. She parks four blocks from the building in a rival grocer's lot and walks with as confident a gait as she can manage with that picture weighing down her pocket and her mind.
His eyes are closed when she approaches the door, slipping inside the establishment and regarding the woman behind what she could only assume was the check-in counter. Yui places her order, is lead to a room down a dimly lit hall- the bed is made and appears crisp and clean even under the seedy atmosphere the building exudes- and she paces as she waits.
Nearly five minutes later, a man comes through the door, hair damp- obviously he'd been cleaned from the dirt of the street- and he ambles to the bed. Only once he's settled does he look at her and Yui can't help but notice the way his eyes stay hard even when he's out from under more watchful eyes than her own.
Yui sets straight her thoughts before stepping forward and standing in front of him. His gaze never falters, still searing through her, and she envies his resolve. She wonders if he was always this strong- if he'd always be this strong. The thought makes her heart ache.
They regard each other for what feels like too long before Yui finds the words to speak. “Do you remember me?” He blinks and Yui already knows the answer- he does, he has to remember. She takes the picture out from her pocket and shows it to him.
His eyes linger on each face- they both know he remembers. She sees that resolve start to melt under the smiling stares of the four faces in the photo, he blinks again and looks up at her, “Dresses don't suit me, anymore,” and Yui laughs until her face is red and tears come from her eyes.
“Tomoka-chan, I'm sorry,” she chokes on the vowels, but he still understands, shaking his head as he smiles slightly and catches her eyes in his stare- no longer hard and cold as stone, but something closer to content- “My name is Tomohisa. Don't be sorry.”
Yui stays long enough for the redness in her cheeks to fade and the puffiness of her eyes to disappear. She checks out and drives home, willing that feeling of satisfaction to fill the holes guilt has punctured into her. That night she dreams about the past, about Tomoka-chan and the day she was taken away. Police officers had come to Tomoka-chan's house and taken her and her mother off in their cars while Yui cried on the porch. She dreamed about how her own mother had told her that Tomoka-chan had been hiding and all Yui had done was find her, it wasn't her fault that everyone else found her, too.
Yui wakes in a sweat, trying not to remember how her mother had been taken right after that- aiding and abetting. She tries to forget how she'd told her teachers about Tomoka-chan being different, forget how Tomoka-chan's eyes had bored into hers as they shut her in the car and drove away.
She drives back to the brothel in the morning.
She knows that women, in this day and age, are the ones who carry the power. Women are strong and independent. Even so, she feels the voids filling as she watches Tomohisa move about her apartment in a way that seems to confident to really be considered manly- she wonders if that can be attributed to his growing up in the guise of a female. He crouches at the table and pulls a book from one of the columns and reads the title and Yui smiles.
One day he asks her, “Do you still think of me as your best friend, Tomoka-chan?” Yui doesn't think twice before shaking her head. “No, but I'd like to think of you as my best friend, Tomohisa.” He smiles and there's a glint in his eyes that brings Yui to smile, as well.
Yui takes a different route to make her monthly inspection, no more curiosity eating away the corners of her mind, and when she returns home from work and finds Tomohisa reading on the couch, he smiles. “Welcome home,” he says before going back to the book and Yui knows it won't be hard to get used to this.