Arashi: Words of Love
AUTHOR: Marineko/mylittlecthulhu
FANDOM: Arashi
PAIRING: Sakuraiba, Sakumoto, (mention of) Juntoshi
RATING: PG
DATE: June 24th, 2011
WORD COUNT: 4,802
NOTES/DISCLAIMERS: I do not own Arashi. This is a fic set in the Sakuraverse AU, and may refer to events from This Year's Sakura and/or A Golden Moon. Loosely inspired by Spitz's "Je t'aime".
**This was written for the Japan Earthquake & Tsunami Relief Fund. Thank you, senshi_san for donating! :D
WORDS OF LOVE
I. like being tempted by the scent of curry
Their first date was at a place that specialised in curry - they had more kinds of curry than Sho knew existed. Because they’ve spent a lot of time together already, and know that they have a lot in common, and could talk endlessly, there was no nervousness at all. Jun regaled him with all the funny stories from his past relationships, and his laughter had been so loud that the other patrons kept looking over at them.
They could be looking at Jun, he supposed. Everyone looked at Jun, in one way or another. When they had first met, Sho had figured that Jun was the sort of person who was used to that sort of attention, and even expected it. He usually find that sort of person annoying and hard to get along with, but Jun had surprised him. It wasn’t that Jun wasn’t what he thought - it was that Jun was much more.
“What about you?” Jun asked, and Sho was confused for a moment. What about him? “Who was your first love?”
It couldn’t be the first time someone asked him that question. It wasn’t as if this was his ‘first’ first date, or even the first where they start off with stories of ex-es and past love. Yet he found himself mute when faced with the question, and when he tried to remember the last time he answered it, he only drew a blank.
“You know what? I don’t remember,” he said. “Maybe my experiences haven’t been as exciting as yours.”
II. enveloping you in a happy warmth
“Sho-chan, here.” Aiba held out the last piece of mochi. “You can have the last one.”
Aiba had probably noticed how he’d been staring at it the whole time. He grinned as he took it greedily. “Thanks.”
Aiba laughed. “Next time, just say that you want it.”
Sho bit off half of the mochi and started chewing. He was going to say something Nino-like when Aiba started to talk about how he was turning into a glutton, but then stopped. He looked at the other boy thoughtfully.
“What?” Aiba looked down at himself. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Sho shook his head and muttered, “nothing,” and went back to devouring his mochi. He intently focused on the taste and texture of it, avoiding Aiba’s eyes. It was all Nino’s fault, he thought, trying to will up some anger towards his best friend, but none would come. Nino didn’t know, after all. He was just joking. It was his way.
And even if Aiba had been making out with Takahashi-senpai between-or-after-classes, it wasn’t any of Sho’s business. He didn’t care that she’s one of the more popular girls from Ohno’s class. He didn’t care that she was rumoured to be dating some yankee who would definitely beat up on Aiba if he knew. He wasn’t mad or hurt that Aiba was supposed to be his best friend besides Nino and Ohno and hadn’t told him a thing. Most importantly, he definitely hadn’t stared at Aiba’s lips the next time they’d met, wondering what it would have been like to kiss him.
No, Sho decided. He definitely didn’t think anything of the sort. And either way, it hardly mattered what he thought, because Nino was most definitely joking. So there.
“Sho-chan?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re being quiet and kind of weird.” Sho just looked at Aiba blankly, wondering if he should come up with an excuse, when Aiba broke into a wide smile. “Hey,” he said. “Remember the experiment we did in Chemistry last week? Because I kind of have this idea...”
})i({
Two weeks after the minor explosion at the riverbank, Sho was still grounded, and not talking to Aiba. It wasn’t so much that it was that he was mad at his friend; it was the feeling that he ought to have been mad. It had all been Aiba’s idea anyway, and now that he was thinking about it Aiba could have gotten hurt (this does make him mad, somewhat) and yet he was the one who had been grounded while all Aiba got was a scolding. Of course, Aiba’s mother scared him more than anyone else, except maybe Ohno’s mother, but still. It wasn’t fair.
When Aiba knocked at his bedroom window, looking like he’d been beaten within an inch of his life, though, Sho immediately opened the latch to let the other boy in.
He couldn’t say anything, staring with what he knew must have been a horrified expression, when Aiba just shrugged.
“I suppose I really shouldn’t have been messing around with Haru-chan.”
It took Sho awhile to realise that Aiba was talking about Takahashi-senpai, and it took awhile after that before the blankness disappeared and was replaced by anger, and something else that he couldn’t quite explain, and didn’t care to. He pushed down both of those things, saying as calmly as he could, “well, then. You deserved it.”
“That’s not what you were supposed to say, Sho-chan! You’re supposed to ask me what she was like!”
It certainly was more in line with what Nino would have asked. He wasn’t so sure about Ohno. “What was she like?” he asked obligingly, although the question came out wooden and flat. Aiba didn’t seem to notice, or mind, as he launched into a long description of how Takahashi-senpai was worth every single bruise on his body. When Sho thought that he couldn’t take it anymore, he held out his hand.
“What are you doing here, Aiba?” He was tired, he decided. Maybe later, he’d be interested in Aiba’s adventures again. But at the moment all he wanted to do was... no. He couldn’t think of anything else he’d rather do, or anyone else he would rather spend the evening with. Was that strange? He wondered.
“Um.” Aiba looked embarrassed. “Can I tell my mom that I’m staying over here for the week? She’ll kill me if she sees me like this. And we do have that exam coming up, so we could say that we’re studying.”
Sho thought about it. “Okay,” he said reluctantly, although something in him jumped at the thought of seeing more of Aiba, every day. As if they weren’t already in the same class, and live one house down from each other’s, he reminded himself. Stop being weird. “I’ll have to ask my mom first. Um... if she asks...” he gestured at Aiba’s obvious state of injury.
“I’ll think of something,” Aiba promised, grinning. “Thanks, Sho-chan. You’re the best.”
When Aiba suddenly smothered him in a tight hug, he didn’t make a sound. He closed his eyes, and told himself that everything else didn’t matter. Aiba was happy, and so by extension, so was he.
III. your being here is a wonderful thing
They would tell friends who asked that they were dating, but sometimes Sho wondered if that was really what they did. They did, once or twice, go out for a traditional sort of date, which he’d anticipate despite himself, because they tended to end with the kind of good night kisses that made him think he wouldn’t mind being with Jun for always.
It was funny. He wouldn’t have thought that Jun was his type - not that he ever really stopped to wonder what his “type” was - but no matter how he thought about it, they suited each other. They suited each other so much that soon enough they had less of the actual “dates” and more of just “being in each other’s company.” Which, he supposed, does constitute as a date, even if his friends might disagree.
That afternoon was one of those rare occasions when both of them had the entire day off. Jun had invited him over for lunch; it was good, and they didn’t do much after. He picked out a book from Jun’s shelves when Jun was cleaning up - he wasn’t quite trusted with any sort of kitchen duty yet - and started reading. Poetry. He wasn’t familiar with the poet, but he loved the rhythm, the cadence of it. He felt as if he could hear it being spoken as he read, and he imagined Jun reading it to him. Sometimes, when Jun had an audition coming up, Jun would read him some lines. He loved listening to Jun.
He was completely absorbed in the book when he heard a clicking noise. He looked up, and saw Jun looking back at him with a triumphant expression. In Jun’s hand was a camera, the same that Jun usually brought along during the times when they went walking outdoors.
Jun never really showed him his pictures, although Sho was glad that Jun was at least comfortable with bringing his camera out when Sho was around. Sho never really liked to have his picture taken. He was sure that he’d let Jun take his picture if Jun asked, but somehow Jun never did - he might have been afraid to or he might have just respected Sho’s wishes. He didn’t like himself in photographs because he always came out more stiff, and not at all natural, probably a product of being too conscious of the emotions he might be betraying without being aware. He knew it was probably a byproduct of him constantly guarding his feelings around his friends when he was younger, but he tried not to think of it.
He tried not to think of it then, reminding himself that he was years in the future and those friends had long ago faded into memory.
“Not fair,” he commented to Jun, not really knowing or caring about fairness. It wasn’t as if he minded Jun taking a picture of him all that much. “I’m really enjoying this.” He held up the book for Jun to see.
“One of my favourites,” Jun replied, raising the camera up to look through the viewfinder.
Sho smiled. “Come on. One was enough, wasn’t it?”
Jun took the picture before answering. “One’s never enough.” Jun kept clicking away, until Sho started to get self-conscious. He threw his head back in laughter, but soon reached out to grab at the camera, but Jun only stepped back.
When Jun lowered the camera again, Sho had given up, but was smiling still. “You don’t need a picture of me,” he said. “I’m right here.”
Jun set the camera aside and went to sit next to him. “Mmm,” Jun agreed. “This is for when you’re not here, then.”
Sho nodded; he was already going back to the book in his hand. Jun was reaching for a different book - a novel he’d picked up the day before. He was already halfway through.
He wondered if Jun ever got self-conscious before the cameras, and told himself that it was silly, because it was Jun’s job. In either case, Jun always seemed more sure of himself in front of the camera than behind it. Even if Jun was always more Jun behind it.
They read, sometimes quietly, and sometimes, when something particularly interesting came up, to each other, and before they knew it the day was coming to an end. Somehow they’ve gotten entangled on the sofa, limbs on top of or hanging off each other comfortably, although how it was comfortable Sho didn’t exactly know.
He had work the next day, and he would have to leave soon. He sighed, and Jun looked up at him. From Jun’s expression, he knew that Jun felt the same.
“Hey,” Jun said softly. “We’ve been dating for almost a year now, right?”
“Is that what we’re doing?” Sho asked, but his voice was teasing. Jun shrugged, but smiled. Then Jun took him by surprise, asking for the one thing he hadn’t done with any of his previous boyfriends since he’d left for the city.
“What do you think about moving in?”
IV. your being here won’t do
The silence was unnatural. That was the thought that crossed his mind as he observed his friends. He was always the noisiest among them, he knew, but even on days when he was quiet Nino and Aiba would usually be loud enough for them all. But Nino was calmly leaning against the tree that shaded them, flipping through the pages of a manga. Ohno was further upstream, where the water was deeper, sitting on a rock and staring down at the fish. Sho vaguely wondered if one could still see fish so clearly in the river when they were all grown up, and apart.
Because it was only natural for friends to grow apart, he supposed.
Once he would have said it could never happen, that they were special, that they were family. But it was easy to stay together when they lived in a town as small as theirs, when they never really knew anything much besides. He hadn’t told any of them (although he thought Nino might have known, because Nino always did), but the last weekend he had taken a brief trip to the city with his parents. They were looking at schools. He’d planned to take Aiba along originally, because they had wanted to get into the same place, but...
He looked over at Aiba, who was sitting with Nino. Like Sho, he wasn’t really doing anything, his hands worrying the bit of grass next to him, pulling out a blade of it every now and then, and absently poking or tickling Nino with them.
As if knowing that Sho was thinking of him, Aiba turned towards his direction, their eyes meeting just once, and holding, before both of them turned away. They hadn’t spoken much since that night Aiba kissed him, then claimed he didn’t mean it. They both wanted to avoid talking about it, but the problem was it didn’t stop from it being there between them anyway. Perhaps in time, it would disappear. Perhaps it wouldn’t.
He didn’t even know which he would prefer - on the one hand, there was nothing he wanted more than for them to be normal again. On the other, how could he be content with that, now that he’d finally admitted to himself that he wanted more?
It couldn’t continue, he thought. Even if he was only realising, or at least admitting, how different his love for Aiba was when compared to the rest of his friends, the feelings had been there for years. Years had gone by with him pushing away thoughts that he knew weren’t quite right, with him wondering why he’d never been excited about girls the way his friends would.
Aiba liked girls. Sho knew this, had known this for a long time. He should back off, before whatever damage that was done to their friendship became irreparable. So last weekend he’d went alone with his parents, looking at different schools, schools that he knew Aiba wouldn’t have been able to follow him into.
They weren’t children any more, Sho thought, even if they weren’t quite grown up either. People grow up, and apart. It was only natural. Nino was already talking about music school - he, too, would meet new people, and make a new life. Ohno was going to be famous one day; of this, Sho was absolutely certain. Even if it took their whole lives, even if it didn’t happen until they were no longer around to see it, it would happen. He saw Ohno struggling against this, wanting more and yet not wanting at all. He wasn’t worried, though, because Ohno was still crouched on a rock with an expression of delight on his face as he looked down at the life before him, and Sho thought that in the end that might be all Ohno would ever need to get back to himself, if he should lose his way.
When it started to get darker, and Nino announced (with much relief) that they should be heading home, Sho nodded and watched how easily Aiba fell in step with Nino, the way Aiba used to be just one step away from him, once.
He listened and repeated the good-byes and see-you-agains, knowing that at that moment at least none of them doubted that they would always be able to see each other again. This would not always be true. When he finally took his first step away, he could feel that he was already starting to grow distant, to prepare himself for eventual separation.
He wondered how much distance must he put between himself and Aiba before he could start feeling halfway normal again.
V. everything becomes gentler
Sho woke up thinking that he had to get back to Aiba, even as he found himself holding on to Jun as if he didn’t plan to let go. He slowly pulled away, trying not to wake Jun as he lay on his back and looked up at the ceiling. He had made his decision the night before - or rather, Jun had made the decision for him, and he had agreed - but there was still a part of him that didn’t want to let go. Even if Aiba did feel the same way about him, it was going to be difficult. He knew that. It wasn’t going to be just about Aiba; it was going to be about changing everything for the sake of Aiba.
And the thing was, he wasn’t even sure if Aiba felt the same. He wasn’t sure about anything other than the fact that Aiba needed him.
Reason, he figured, would have him stay with Jun. Things were good with Jun. Things made sense, with Jun. He knew where he stood, and with Jun he knew his feelings were reciprocated. And yet...
I understand that he’ll always come first to you, Jun had said. So go and be with him.
He’d tried to explain, that it wasn’t like that with Aiba, that Aiba only ever wanted him as a friend, but Jun had shrugged it away and said that then he had to be whatever that Aiba wanted him to be. Because Jun was right. No matter what it was, it was with Aiba that he wanted to be, and whenever Aiba called, he would always come running.
He hadn’t been lying about loving Jun. When he had said that Jun made it easier to breathe, to be, in the world, he had meant every single word. Everything just became softer with Jun’s presence in his life, and he knew that even if they were to part, he still needed to know that Jun was out there, somewhere. Living, and making the world an easier place to live in.
He laughed softly at himself as the thought came and went. Love, he thought, made him much too sentimental a person.
Jun probably would have told him not to fear his sentiments, even if he doubted that Jun would take his own advice in the matter.
Next to him, Jun stirred, and groaned in protest of the light that was starting to stream into the room. “Please tell me it’s not morning yet,” he mumbled into his pillow.
“I could, but then I’d be lying.”
He heard a long sigh from next to him, before Jun said, tiredly, “Aren’t you supposed to be leaving by now?”
Still he hesitated.
“What time are you checking out?”
“Noon. I think.”
He sat up, but didn’t immediately get out of bed. “This really is the end, isn’t it?”
A long pause, before Jun finally answered. “I guess.”
“When I get back…” Sho stopped, not knowing how to continue his sentence. He’d have to move out of Jun’s apartment. When he’d moved in, he hadn’t taken much with him, having sold off his furniture or put them in storage. Still, the thought of clearing out the things he did take with him made him feel empty. The apartment, and Jun, had been his life for the last few years. It shouldn’t have been so easy to step out, and away from it.
“Take your time,” Jun said. “With everything. With him, with work. With whatever arrangements you need to do after this. Just - take your time.”
“Maybe I never said it enough - maybe I never said it at all, but -” his words got stuck in his throat just as Jun decided to cut him off.
“I know.” Jun sighed. “I know.”
Jun’s hand covered his, and he knew that Jun knew - everything he felt, everything he had ever wanted to say, what he wanted to say the most now.
Thank you.
I loved you.
Good bye.
VI. today, i’m tired from worrying again
Two hours really wasn’t very long when he thought about it, but as far as Sho was concerned it could be a lifetime. He thought of the first time he was returning to Aiba - because that was what it had been, really - and how every place he was passing through brought to him a new memory. His first job. First date. First time he built a life outside of the only one he had ever known.
He had had Jun taking the journey with him then. This time, Jun had become part of the landscape that he was leaving; not any less loved or deserving of love, he decided. Just a part of the past.
He caught sight of the tall building with the strange mascot on top of it; he couldn’t see the streets below from where he was, but it was all there in his mind’s eye. The curry shop where he’d gone with Jun, once - they never did go back there after, even though they said they would. Only a few seconds, and the train passed by, although he felt like everything was happening slowly, that he could see every moment of the widening distance between him and the city he’d spent so many years in, between him and the person that once made him think, maybe, perhaps, always.
There was still a lot about Jun that Sho didn’t know, as his latest trip was telling him. He hadn’t made as much of an effort to know about Jun’s family as he probably should have. Ohno was right in that sense; he had no right to worry about Jun when he didn’t even know that much. But he still worried, and even as something told him that Ohno would be good for Jun, it was still hard to let go so easily. Not someone who had meant to him as much as Jun did, and especially not to someone he’d known all his life, like Ohno.
Jun had walked him down to the lobby when he was leaving, and as they were saying goodbye, again, Jun had stopped him.
“Sho.” He turned to see Jun standing straight, and looking at him in the eye. “I’m not going to come between you and Ohno.”
“That guy -”
“I don’t care what he’s told you. He’s your best friend, Sho. No, he’s more than that. He’s your family. And I know that if you’re lucky enough to find someone who cares about you that much, you don’t throw it away.” Jun looked wistful as he spoke, and Sho wondered if it was the idea of giving Ohno up or the thought of family that put that expression on his face. “There’ll be other guys, for me. Probably. But you can’t throw away what you have with Ohno over me.”
Sho smiled at him, then. “He would have said that you’re worth it.”
Jun looked down, embarrassed. “Well, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” Sho looked behind him; his cab had yet to arrive. “Let’s let him decide on that, anyway.”
“But -”
“Good bye, Jun.” The cab was finally there, and Sho opened the passenger door to get in.
How many times did he have to say good bye to Jun before he no longer felt the heaviness of those words? It would be one thing if they were truly parting ways, but he knew he would see Jun around a lot in the future - they knew a lot of people in common, and they went to most of the same events. And even if they didn’t, if something actually came out of Jun’s current attachment to Ohno, then... Sho sighed loudly, effectively cutting off his own train of thought. He truly didn’t know what to think; Aiba had said that the signs were all there from the beginning, but it seemed so sudden to him. They were so different from each other. And Ohno was one of his closest friends. Just thinking about it made his head, and heart, hurt.
Even later, in the train, Sho felt himself pressured by worry and unease. He had to let go, he told himself. He was too tired not to. It would be a long time before he stopped feeling guilty about Jun, before he stopped feeling responsible for everything that had happened between them - everything that he had let happen. But he was tired, and he wanted to go home.
Then why aren’t you home? Aiba had asked, and he didn’t have an answer, because it really was that simple in the end.
He reached for his phone, and dialled the number to Aiba’s house - their house. His home. The moment Aiba picks up, Sho said, “I’m on the way home.”
There was a long pause before Aiba said anything, and when he did, his voice was low, and unsure. “I thought you were supposed to be there until later today.”
“I was, but I tried to finish faster, and I did.”
“About last night, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to -”
“No,” Sho insisted. “It’s my fault. I really haven’t been thinking clearly enough. You’re right, it’s really simple. It’s not really that simple either, but it should be.”
“You love Jun.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t blame you; I like him a lot, too.”
“Yes, but -”
“And you trusted Ohno.”
“Yes, al-”
“And it hurts that they like each other.”
“There’s that, but -”
“So you’re coming back because of that.”
“No.” He paused, waiting to see if Aiba was going to interrupt again. Aiba didn’t. “Will you listen to me, now?”
Still, there was no reply.
“I loved Jun, true. Maybe I still do. But it’s not the same. It’s like - I feel… protective? Because I know I’ve hurt him, so there’s always going to be a part of me that wants to fix that. I’d do anything to fix that. Except go back to him.”
“Maybe -”
“No, listen. Even if I did go back, even if I wanted to do so, it wouldn’t have been the same. What we had, it was good. I might even miss that, from time to time. But it’s also past. I’m with you, now. I’ve wanted to be with you longer than I’ve wanted anything else. Remember?”
Aiba’s voice sounded thick, and muffled. “I remember.”
“Good. So get that in your head already - I love you. I don’t think I ever had a chance to stop myself from falling for you, even since the first time we met.”
“Sho-chan. The first time we met, I dared you to climb that high rock by the river and you fell and twisted your ankle.”
“Exactly. I should have avoided the hell out of you after that, but I didn’t.”
Aiba laughed. “I was always getting you into trouble, huh.”
“My life is certainly more interesting because of you.” Sho smiled, affectionate, even though he knew Aiba couldn’t see him. “So I’m on the way home now. Because you’re who I want to come home to, not because of anything else. Okay?”
“…okay.” Aiba’s voice was soft, and Sho wondered if he was smiling, too. He hoped that Aiba was. “I’ll be waiting.”
Home was a street lined with sakura trees, and a riverbank where four boys once found refuge. Home was the way the wind that came to his bedroom window always seemed like it had come from Aiba’s. Home was Aiba making things explode or getting beaten up and him having to cover for them, it was Nino and the way he had snuck into their lives and never quite left, it was Ohno who was always changing and always the same. It was the last piece of mochi and the boy who’d let him have it, even though they both knew that he’d eaten more than his share in the first place.
Sho closed his eyes as the buildings outside started to thin, and the scenery started to change. He didn’t have all the answers yet, but at least he knew one thing for sure. Aiba had never been “maybe” or “perhaps” - Aiba had only ever been “always.”
Marineko's Notes:
senshi_san's second fic request :) Thank you again for donating, senshi_san (and tell your friend thanks, too!)
FANDOM: Arashi
PAIRING: Sakuraiba, Sakumoto, (mention of) Juntoshi
RATING: PG
DATE: June 24th, 2011
WORD COUNT: 4,802
NOTES/DISCLAIMERS: I do not own Arashi. This is a fic set in the Sakuraverse AU, and may refer to events from This Year's Sakura and/or A Golden Moon. Loosely inspired by Spitz's "Je t'aime".
**This was written for the Japan Earthquake & Tsunami Relief Fund. Thank you, senshi_san for donating! :D
WORDS OF LOVE
I. like being tempted by the scent of curry
Their first date was at a place that specialised in curry - they had more kinds of curry than Sho knew existed. Because they’ve spent a lot of time together already, and know that they have a lot in common, and could talk endlessly, there was no nervousness at all. Jun regaled him with all the funny stories from his past relationships, and his laughter had been so loud that the other patrons kept looking over at them.
They could be looking at Jun, he supposed. Everyone looked at Jun, in one way or another. When they had first met, Sho had figured that Jun was the sort of person who was used to that sort of attention, and even expected it. He usually find that sort of person annoying and hard to get along with, but Jun had surprised him. It wasn’t that Jun wasn’t what he thought - it was that Jun was much more.
“What about you?” Jun asked, and Sho was confused for a moment. What about him? “Who was your first love?”
It couldn’t be the first time someone asked him that question. It wasn’t as if this was his ‘first’ first date, or even the first where they start off with stories of ex-es and past love. Yet he found himself mute when faced with the question, and when he tried to remember the last time he answered it, he only drew a blank.
“You know what? I don’t remember,” he said. “Maybe my experiences haven’t been as exciting as yours.”
II. enveloping you in a happy warmth
“Sho-chan, here.” Aiba held out the last piece of mochi. “You can have the last one.”
Aiba had probably noticed how he’d been staring at it the whole time. He grinned as he took it greedily. “Thanks.”
Aiba laughed. “Next time, just say that you want it.”
Sho bit off half of the mochi and started chewing. He was going to say something Nino-like when Aiba started to talk about how he was turning into a glutton, but then stopped. He looked at the other boy thoughtfully.
“What?” Aiba looked down at himself. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Sho shook his head and muttered, “nothing,” and went back to devouring his mochi. He intently focused on the taste and texture of it, avoiding Aiba’s eyes. It was all Nino’s fault, he thought, trying to will up some anger towards his best friend, but none would come. Nino didn’t know, after all. He was just joking. It was his way.
And even if Aiba had been making out with Takahashi-senpai between-or-after-classes, it wasn’t any of Sho’s business. He didn’t care that she’s one of the more popular girls from Ohno’s class. He didn’t care that she was rumoured to be dating some yankee who would definitely beat up on Aiba if he knew. He wasn’t mad or hurt that Aiba was supposed to be his best friend besides Nino and Ohno and hadn’t told him a thing. Most importantly, he definitely hadn’t stared at Aiba’s lips the next time they’d met, wondering what it would have been like to kiss him.
No, Sho decided. He definitely didn’t think anything of the sort. And either way, it hardly mattered what he thought, because Nino was most definitely joking. So there.
“Sho-chan?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re being quiet and kind of weird.” Sho just looked at Aiba blankly, wondering if he should come up with an excuse, when Aiba broke into a wide smile. “Hey,” he said. “Remember the experiment we did in Chemistry last week? Because I kind of have this idea...”
})i({
Two weeks after the minor explosion at the riverbank, Sho was still grounded, and not talking to Aiba. It wasn’t so much that it was that he was mad at his friend; it was the feeling that he ought to have been mad. It had all been Aiba’s idea anyway, and now that he was thinking about it Aiba could have gotten hurt (this does make him mad, somewhat) and yet he was the one who had been grounded while all Aiba got was a scolding. Of course, Aiba’s mother scared him more than anyone else, except maybe Ohno’s mother, but still. It wasn’t fair.
When Aiba knocked at his bedroom window, looking like he’d been beaten within an inch of his life, though, Sho immediately opened the latch to let the other boy in.
He couldn’t say anything, staring with what he knew must have been a horrified expression, when Aiba just shrugged.
“I suppose I really shouldn’t have been messing around with Haru-chan.”
It took Sho awhile to realise that Aiba was talking about Takahashi-senpai, and it took awhile after that before the blankness disappeared and was replaced by anger, and something else that he couldn’t quite explain, and didn’t care to. He pushed down both of those things, saying as calmly as he could, “well, then. You deserved it.”
“That’s not what you were supposed to say, Sho-chan! You’re supposed to ask me what she was like!”
It certainly was more in line with what Nino would have asked. He wasn’t so sure about Ohno. “What was she like?” he asked obligingly, although the question came out wooden and flat. Aiba didn’t seem to notice, or mind, as he launched into a long description of how Takahashi-senpai was worth every single bruise on his body. When Sho thought that he couldn’t take it anymore, he held out his hand.
“What are you doing here, Aiba?” He was tired, he decided. Maybe later, he’d be interested in Aiba’s adventures again. But at the moment all he wanted to do was... no. He couldn’t think of anything else he’d rather do, or anyone else he would rather spend the evening with. Was that strange? He wondered.
“Um.” Aiba looked embarrassed. “Can I tell my mom that I’m staying over here for the week? She’ll kill me if she sees me like this. And we do have that exam coming up, so we could say that we’re studying.”
Sho thought about it. “Okay,” he said reluctantly, although something in him jumped at the thought of seeing more of Aiba, every day. As if they weren’t already in the same class, and live one house down from each other’s, he reminded himself. Stop being weird. “I’ll have to ask my mom first. Um... if she asks...” he gestured at Aiba’s obvious state of injury.
“I’ll think of something,” Aiba promised, grinning. “Thanks, Sho-chan. You’re the best.”
When Aiba suddenly smothered him in a tight hug, he didn’t make a sound. He closed his eyes, and told himself that everything else didn’t matter. Aiba was happy, and so by extension, so was he.
III. your being here is a wonderful thing
They would tell friends who asked that they were dating, but sometimes Sho wondered if that was really what they did. They did, once or twice, go out for a traditional sort of date, which he’d anticipate despite himself, because they tended to end with the kind of good night kisses that made him think he wouldn’t mind being with Jun for always.
It was funny. He wouldn’t have thought that Jun was his type - not that he ever really stopped to wonder what his “type” was - but no matter how he thought about it, they suited each other. They suited each other so much that soon enough they had less of the actual “dates” and more of just “being in each other’s company.” Which, he supposed, does constitute as a date, even if his friends might disagree.
That afternoon was one of those rare occasions when both of them had the entire day off. Jun had invited him over for lunch; it was good, and they didn’t do much after. He picked out a book from Jun’s shelves when Jun was cleaning up - he wasn’t quite trusted with any sort of kitchen duty yet - and started reading. Poetry. He wasn’t familiar with the poet, but he loved the rhythm, the cadence of it. He felt as if he could hear it being spoken as he read, and he imagined Jun reading it to him. Sometimes, when Jun had an audition coming up, Jun would read him some lines. He loved listening to Jun.
He was completely absorbed in the book when he heard a clicking noise. He looked up, and saw Jun looking back at him with a triumphant expression. In Jun’s hand was a camera, the same that Jun usually brought along during the times when they went walking outdoors.
Jun never really showed him his pictures, although Sho was glad that Jun was at least comfortable with bringing his camera out when Sho was around. Sho never really liked to have his picture taken. He was sure that he’d let Jun take his picture if Jun asked, but somehow Jun never did - he might have been afraid to or he might have just respected Sho’s wishes. He didn’t like himself in photographs because he always came out more stiff, and not at all natural, probably a product of being too conscious of the emotions he might be betraying without being aware. He knew it was probably a byproduct of him constantly guarding his feelings around his friends when he was younger, but he tried not to think of it.
He tried not to think of it then, reminding himself that he was years in the future and those friends had long ago faded into memory.
“Not fair,” he commented to Jun, not really knowing or caring about fairness. It wasn’t as if he minded Jun taking a picture of him all that much. “I’m really enjoying this.” He held up the book for Jun to see.
“One of my favourites,” Jun replied, raising the camera up to look through the viewfinder.
Sho smiled. “Come on. One was enough, wasn’t it?”
Jun took the picture before answering. “One’s never enough.” Jun kept clicking away, until Sho started to get self-conscious. He threw his head back in laughter, but soon reached out to grab at the camera, but Jun only stepped back.
When Jun lowered the camera again, Sho had given up, but was smiling still. “You don’t need a picture of me,” he said. “I’m right here.”
Jun set the camera aside and went to sit next to him. “Mmm,” Jun agreed. “This is for when you’re not here, then.”
Sho nodded; he was already going back to the book in his hand. Jun was reaching for a different book - a novel he’d picked up the day before. He was already halfway through.
He wondered if Jun ever got self-conscious before the cameras, and told himself that it was silly, because it was Jun’s job. In either case, Jun always seemed more sure of himself in front of the camera than behind it. Even if Jun was always more Jun behind it.
They read, sometimes quietly, and sometimes, when something particularly interesting came up, to each other, and before they knew it the day was coming to an end. Somehow they’ve gotten entangled on the sofa, limbs on top of or hanging off each other comfortably, although how it was comfortable Sho didn’t exactly know.
He had work the next day, and he would have to leave soon. He sighed, and Jun looked up at him. From Jun’s expression, he knew that Jun felt the same.
“Hey,” Jun said softly. “We’ve been dating for almost a year now, right?”
“Is that what we’re doing?” Sho asked, but his voice was teasing. Jun shrugged, but smiled. Then Jun took him by surprise, asking for the one thing he hadn’t done with any of his previous boyfriends since he’d left for the city.
“What do you think about moving in?”
IV. your being here won’t do
The silence was unnatural. That was the thought that crossed his mind as he observed his friends. He was always the noisiest among them, he knew, but even on days when he was quiet Nino and Aiba would usually be loud enough for them all. But Nino was calmly leaning against the tree that shaded them, flipping through the pages of a manga. Ohno was further upstream, where the water was deeper, sitting on a rock and staring down at the fish. Sho vaguely wondered if one could still see fish so clearly in the river when they were all grown up, and apart.
Because it was only natural for friends to grow apart, he supposed.
Once he would have said it could never happen, that they were special, that they were family. But it was easy to stay together when they lived in a town as small as theirs, when they never really knew anything much besides. He hadn’t told any of them (although he thought Nino might have known, because Nino always did), but the last weekend he had taken a brief trip to the city with his parents. They were looking at schools. He’d planned to take Aiba along originally, because they had wanted to get into the same place, but...
He looked over at Aiba, who was sitting with Nino. Like Sho, he wasn’t really doing anything, his hands worrying the bit of grass next to him, pulling out a blade of it every now and then, and absently poking or tickling Nino with them.
As if knowing that Sho was thinking of him, Aiba turned towards his direction, their eyes meeting just once, and holding, before both of them turned away. They hadn’t spoken much since that night Aiba kissed him, then claimed he didn’t mean it. They both wanted to avoid talking about it, but the problem was it didn’t stop from it being there between them anyway. Perhaps in time, it would disappear. Perhaps it wouldn’t.
He didn’t even know which he would prefer - on the one hand, there was nothing he wanted more than for them to be normal again. On the other, how could he be content with that, now that he’d finally admitted to himself that he wanted more?
It couldn’t continue, he thought. Even if he was only realising, or at least admitting, how different his love for Aiba was when compared to the rest of his friends, the feelings had been there for years. Years had gone by with him pushing away thoughts that he knew weren’t quite right, with him wondering why he’d never been excited about girls the way his friends would.
Aiba liked girls. Sho knew this, had known this for a long time. He should back off, before whatever damage that was done to their friendship became irreparable. So last weekend he’d went alone with his parents, looking at different schools, schools that he knew Aiba wouldn’t have been able to follow him into.
They weren’t children any more, Sho thought, even if they weren’t quite grown up either. People grow up, and apart. It was only natural. Nino was already talking about music school - he, too, would meet new people, and make a new life. Ohno was going to be famous one day; of this, Sho was absolutely certain. Even if it took their whole lives, even if it didn’t happen until they were no longer around to see it, it would happen. He saw Ohno struggling against this, wanting more and yet not wanting at all. He wasn’t worried, though, because Ohno was still crouched on a rock with an expression of delight on his face as he looked down at the life before him, and Sho thought that in the end that might be all Ohno would ever need to get back to himself, if he should lose his way.
When it started to get darker, and Nino announced (with much relief) that they should be heading home, Sho nodded and watched how easily Aiba fell in step with Nino, the way Aiba used to be just one step away from him, once.
He listened and repeated the good-byes and see-you-agains, knowing that at that moment at least none of them doubted that they would always be able to see each other again. This would not always be true. When he finally took his first step away, he could feel that he was already starting to grow distant, to prepare himself for eventual separation.
He wondered how much distance must he put between himself and Aiba before he could start feeling halfway normal again.
V. everything becomes gentler
Sho woke up thinking that he had to get back to Aiba, even as he found himself holding on to Jun as if he didn’t plan to let go. He slowly pulled away, trying not to wake Jun as he lay on his back and looked up at the ceiling. He had made his decision the night before - or rather, Jun had made the decision for him, and he had agreed - but there was still a part of him that didn’t want to let go. Even if Aiba did feel the same way about him, it was going to be difficult. He knew that. It wasn’t going to be just about Aiba; it was going to be about changing everything for the sake of Aiba.
And the thing was, he wasn’t even sure if Aiba felt the same. He wasn’t sure about anything other than the fact that Aiba needed him.
Reason, he figured, would have him stay with Jun. Things were good with Jun. Things made sense, with Jun. He knew where he stood, and with Jun he knew his feelings were reciprocated. And yet...
I understand that he’ll always come first to you, Jun had said. So go and be with him.
He’d tried to explain, that it wasn’t like that with Aiba, that Aiba only ever wanted him as a friend, but Jun had shrugged it away and said that then he had to be whatever that Aiba wanted him to be. Because Jun was right. No matter what it was, it was with Aiba that he wanted to be, and whenever Aiba called, he would always come running.
He hadn’t been lying about loving Jun. When he had said that Jun made it easier to breathe, to be, in the world, he had meant every single word. Everything just became softer with Jun’s presence in his life, and he knew that even if they were to part, he still needed to know that Jun was out there, somewhere. Living, and making the world an easier place to live in.
He laughed softly at himself as the thought came and went. Love, he thought, made him much too sentimental a person.
Jun probably would have told him not to fear his sentiments, even if he doubted that Jun would take his own advice in the matter.
Next to him, Jun stirred, and groaned in protest of the light that was starting to stream into the room. “Please tell me it’s not morning yet,” he mumbled into his pillow.
“I could, but then I’d be lying.”
He heard a long sigh from next to him, before Jun said, tiredly, “Aren’t you supposed to be leaving by now?”
Still he hesitated.
“What time are you checking out?”
“Noon. I think.”
He sat up, but didn’t immediately get out of bed. “This really is the end, isn’t it?”
A long pause, before Jun finally answered. “I guess.”
“When I get back…” Sho stopped, not knowing how to continue his sentence. He’d have to move out of Jun’s apartment. When he’d moved in, he hadn’t taken much with him, having sold off his furniture or put them in storage. Still, the thought of clearing out the things he did take with him made him feel empty. The apartment, and Jun, had been his life for the last few years. It shouldn’t have been so easy to step out, and away from it.
“Take your time,” Jun said. “With everything. With him, with work. With whatever arrangements you need to do after this. Just - take your time.”
“Maybe I never said it enough - maybe I never said it at all, but -” his words got stuck in his throat just as Jun decided to cut him off.
“I know.” Jun sighed. “I know.”
Jun’s hand covered his, and he knew that Jun knew - everything he felt, everything he had ever wanted to say, what he wanted to say the most now.
Thank you.
I loved you.
Good bye.
VI. today, i’m tired from worrying again
Two hours really wasn’t very long when he thought about it, but as far as Sho was concerned it could be a lifetime. He thought of the first time he was returning to Aiba - because that was what it had been, really - and how every place he was passing through brought to him a new memory. His first job. First date. First time he built a life outside of the only one he had ever known.
He had had Jun taking the journey with him then. This time, Jun had become part of the landscape that he was leaving; not any less loved or deserving of love, he decided. Just a part of the past.
He caught sight of the tall building with the strange mascot on top of it; he couldn’t see the streets below from where he was, but it was all there in his mind’s eye. The curry shop where he’d gone with Jun, once - they never did go back there after, even though they said they would. Only a few seconds, and the train passed by, although he felt like everything was happening slowly, that he could see every moment of the widening distance between him and the city he’d spent so many years in, between him and the person that once made him think, maybe, perhaps, always.
There was still a lot about Jun that Sho didn’t know, as his latest trip was telling him. He hadn’t made as much of an effort to know about Jun’s family as he probably should have. Ohno was right in that sense; he had no right to worry about Jun when he didn’t even know that much. But he still worried, and even as something told him that Ohno would be good for Jun, it was still hard to let go so easily. Not someone who had meant to him as much as Jun did, and especially not to someone he’d known all his life, like Ohno.
Jun had walked him down to the lobby when he was leaving, and as they were saying goodbye, again, Jun had stopped him.
“Sho.” He turned to see Jun standing straight, and looking at him in the eye. “I’m not going to come between you and Ohno.”
“That guy -”
“I don’t care what he’s told you. He’s your best friend, Sho. No, he’s more than that. He’s your family. And I know that if you’re lucky enough to find someone who cares about you that much, you don’t throw it away.” Jun looked wistful as he spoke, and Sho wondered if it was the idea of giving Ohno up or the thought of family that put that expression on his face. “There’ll be other guys, for me. Probably. But you can’t throw away what you have with Ohno over me.”
Sho smiled at him, then. “He would have said that you’re worth it.”
Jun looked down, embarrassed. “Well, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” Sho looked behind him; his cab had yet to arrive. “Let’s let him decide on that, anyway.”
“But -”
“Good bye, Jun.” The cab was finally there, and Sho opened the passenger door to get in.
How many times did he have to say good bye to Jun before he no longer felt the heaviness of those words? It would be one thing if they were truly parting ways, but he knew he would see Jun around a lot in the future - they knew a lot of people in common, and they went to most of the same events. And even if they didn’t, if something actually came out of Jun’s current attachment to Ohno, then... Sho sighed loudly, effectively cutting off his own train of thought. He truly didn’t know what to think; Aiba had said that the signs were all there from the beginning, but it seemed so sudden to him. They were so different from each other. And Ohno was one of his closest friends. Just thinking about it made his head, and heart, hurt.
Even later, in the train, Sho felt himself pressured by worry and unease. He had to let go, he told himself. He was too tired not to. It would be a long time before he stopped feeling guilty about Jun, before he stopped feeling responsible for everything that had happened between them - everything that he had let happen. But he was tired, and he wanted to go home.
Then why aren’t you home? Aiba had asked, and he didn’t have an answer, because it really was that simple in the end.
He reached for his phone, and dialled the number to Aiba’s house - their house. His home. The moment Aiba picks up, Sho said, “I’m on the way home.”
There was a long pause before Aiba said anything, and when he did, his voice was low, and unsure. “I thought you were supposed to be there until later today.”
“I was, but I tried to finish faster, and I did.”
“About last night, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to -”
“No,” Sho insisted. “It’s my fault. I really haven’t been thinking clearly enough. You’re right, it’s really simple. It’s not really that simple either, but it should be.”
“You love Jun.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t blame you; I like him a lot, too.”
“Yes, but -”
“And you trusted Ohno.”
“Yes, al-”
“And it hurts that they like each other.”
“There’s that, but -”
“So you’re coming back because of that.”
“No.” He paused, waiting to see if Aiba was going to interrupt again. Aiba didn’t. “Will you listen to me, now?”
Still, there was no reply.
“I loved Jun, true. Maybe I still do. But it’s not the same. It’s like - I feel… protective? Because I know I’ve hurt him, so there’s always going to be a part of me that wants to fix that. I’d do anything to fix that. Except go back to him.”
“Maybe -”
“No, listen. Even if I did go back, even if I wanted to do so, it wouldn’t have been the same. What we had, it was good. I might even miss that, from time to time. But it’s also past. I’m with you, now. I’ve wanted to be with you longer than I’ve wanted anything else. Remember?”
Aiba’s voice sounded thick, and muffled. “I remember.”
“Good. So get that in your head already - I love you. I don’t think I ever had a chance to stop myself from falling for you, even since the first time we met.”
“Sho-chan. The first time we met, I dared you to climb that high rock by the river and you fell and twisted your ankle.”
“Exactly. I should have avoided the hell out of you after that, but I didn’t.”
Aiba laughed. “I was always getting you into trouble, huh.”
“My life is certainly more interesting because of you.” Sho smiled, affectionate, even though he knew Aiba couldn’t see him. “So I’m on the way home now. Because you’re who I want to come home to, not because of anything else. Okay?”
“…okay.” Aiba’s voice was soft, and Sho wondered if he was smiling, too. He hoped that Aiba was. “I’ll be waiting.”
Home was a street lined with sakura trees, and a riverbank where four boys once found refuge. Home was the way the wind that came to his bedroom window always seemed like it had come from Aiba’s. Home was Aiba making things explode or getting beaten up and him having to cover for them, it was Nino and the way he had snuck into their lives and never quite left, it was Ohno who was always changing and always the same. It was the last piece of mochi and the boy who’d let him have it, even though they both knew that he’d eaten more than his share in the first place.
Sho closed his eyes as the buildings outside started to thin, and the scenery started to change. He didn’t have all the answers yet, but at least he knew one thing for sure. Aiba had never been “maybe” or “perhaps” - Aiba had only ever been “always.”
Marineko's Notes:
senshi_san's second fic request :) Thank you again for donating, senshi_san (and tell your friend thanks, too!)