All Arashi Pairs Challenge, Fic 2: Sakuraiba
I wrote the vast majority of this while medicated and I think it shows. Mainly because it's my slice of life Ohmiya style just with Sakuraiba. My brain was confused, ok.
Title: Midlife Crisis
Pairings: Sakuraiba, Sho/unimportant OC, Ohmiya
Rating: Pg-13
Genre: Slice of Life, Mild Drama, Mild Angst
Summary: Aiba finds a salary man with sad eyes waiting at a bus stop in Tokyo and decides to take him home.
Note: For junbaitarashian, I’m pretty sure this is terribly far from what you wanted, but I hope it’s acceptable all the same.
Note 2: A short and fluffy Ohmiya side story can be found here~
Original prompt from junbaitarashian: sho is lost in the city and has nowhere to stay the night and he meets this stranger who right away gives him the impression that his an idiot but against his better judgement stays with him ... his somehow let's his guard down makes a "mistake" ;D ... Only to realize later that he has fallen for him...
It was raining softly.
The kind of rain at the end of a thunderstorm that just doesn’t know when to quit.
Aiba shook out his umbrella as he stepped under the small bus stop shelter.
He plopped onto the bench next to a stiff looking young salary man and checked his phone for the bus schedule.
“Ah, twenty minutes early, I knew I should have walked slower…” He mumbled to himself.
“But if you had walked faster,” The man sitting next to him turned, wearing an amused smile. “You’d have made the bus that left five minutes ago.”
“Ah! That’s also true.” Aiba laughed.
The man chuckled, and went back to looking out the rain splattered shelter for the bus.
“Are you waiting for the rain to stop?” Aiba asked, politely curious. “Or is your bus late because of the storm?”
“The buses aren‘t late, no.” The man turned around, puzzled
“Ah…it’s just, you don’t have an umbrella, but your suit is all dry.” Aiba noted, looking the man over. “It’s been raining for hours though, so you must have been sitting here a while.”
“Oh…” He shifted uncomfortably, and Aiba realized belatedly that he was being nosy.
“Sorry, I sometimes say things without thinking.” Embarrassed, Aiba bobbed his head in apology.
“No, it’s ok.” He smiled, but even though they had just met, Aiba could tell that there was a measure of sadness behind it.
Rain pattered on the roof, and cars splashed through the large puddles on the road.
“I suppose you could say I’m lost.” The salary man’s voice was slow, and unsure, “Or perhaps that I simply don’t know where to go from here.”
Concerned, Aiba nodded, “Sounds complicated.”
“I suppose it is.” He laughed, a miserable ironic laugh.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No, not really.”
“Well, if you need a pillow and a couch to sleep on, I could lend you mine.” It seemed the least he could do to help this dejected stranger.
Aiba was given a strange look, and the man sat straighter and scooted a little further away. “I’m sorry, I’m not really into things like that. Please look elsewhere.”
“Oh! No, not that! I didn’t mean it like that! I really am just offering my couch, no other…uh…services.” Aiba could feel himself turning scarlet, and wished he had found a better way to phrase the invitation. “I’m not into that kind of stuff either.”
The sad salary man looked startled, as if he didn‘t know quite what to do when faced with a genuine act of kindness, “Oh no, I couldn’t-”
“Please, I insist! I can’t just leave someone out in the rain like this.”
The man regarded him with an amused sparkle overtaking the haunted shadows in his eyes. “I do appreciate your offer, but I could go find a hotel.”
“You could, but if you were going to do that, you’d be at a hotel by now, wouldn’t you?”
He laughed again, his sloping shoulders finally losing their earlier stiffness. The change made him look younger, and more handsome. “I didn’t realize I looked so much like a helpless abandoned dog that someone would go to such lengths to take care of me.”
“I’m sorry, but,“ With a guilty smile, Aiba glanced at the bus stop shelter they were sitting in, the rain pouring outside, and the perfectly dry suit. “You do look an awful lot like one to me.”
“You can just leave your shoes there, and I think I have some guest slippers-ah-yes here they are.”
Sho slipped out of his shoes and into the shabby slippers, aligning them with the others in the entry. As he stepped into the house he looked around curiously.
Aiba, had a nice, humble home in a small apartment above a store on a local shopping street. It was messy in an organized bachelor way and there was absolutely no coherence in the interior design. It looked more comfortable, lived in and welcoming than any house Sho had ever been in.
Even as Sho walked inside, it was in mild disbelief. It was difficult and intriguing to think that such a naïve person still existed. Aiba had no idea who Sho was, where he came from or whether or not he was a criminal, yet he invited such an absolute stranger into his home.
Then Sho realized that he didn’t know anything about Aiba either. Aiba could be a murderer, or a rapist.
Yet, he got on that bus that took them to Chiba.
“The kitchen is there, you can help yourself to everything in the fridge and cupboards. And the living room is there on the right. Careful with that couch though it‘s kinda old so the springs are worn and it sucks you in.”
“It looks comfy.” Sho smiled at the sagging plaid couch across the room before turning back to his host. “Are you sure this is ok? It‘s not too late for me to find a hotel…”
“You can go if you want, or if my place isn‘t suitable.” He said, not quite ruefully.
Already in love with the place, Sho nearly scoffed. “It’s so suitable, I’m afraid if I stay the night, I might not want to leave tomorrow.”
“That’s ok with me!” Said Aiba, genuinely happy. “Stay as long as you want, and leave whenever you feel like it.”
“That’s seriously a dangerous thing to offer to a man who’s currently lost in life.“
Aiba laughed, “Or maybe it’s the right thing to say to someone with nowhere better to go.”
Even though he really, really, really, really wanted to, as they ate a late dinner of convenience store bentos, Aiba didn’t ask why Sho was sitting at that bus stop in Tokyo.
He didn’t ask because he was afraid it would make Sho feel awkward or get angry or leave.
Maybe he lost his job, couldn’t afford rent and got evicted.
Maybe his old house caught on fire and he hasn’t found a new place yet.
Or maybe it had something to do with the gold ring on his finger.
In the morning, Sho woke up deeply submerged in the crevice of the couch. Dislodging a few cushions to free himself, he landed on all fours on the living room floor with a loud thump.
Aiba laughed, calling from the kitchen. “I warned you it was a tar pit!”
Rubbing his neck, Sho joined Aiba. “I was comfortable and all, but it was kind of scary waking up like that. The couch really did eat me.”
Chuckling, Aiba poured coffee. “Milk and sugar?”
“Black will be fine, thank you.” Sho gave a nod of thanks as he took his cup and settled into one of the stools at the breakfast bar. “And thanks for lending me a pair of pajamas.”
“I couldn’t have you sleep in that nice suit. I don’t know if they’ll fit, but there’s some jeans and a shirt in the bathroom for you too, if you want to take a shower.”
“Thank you.“ Sho smiled, and raised his mug teasingly. “This is the best bed and breakfast I’ve ever stayed at. Five star service.”
Aiba laughed all the way to his eyes, and looked pleased.
After he’d finished his coffee, Sho headed for the bathroom. A bath towel, a hand towel, jeans, a shirt, a pair of clean underwear, a new razor and tooth brush were all neatly arranged and waiting for him on the bathroom sink.
Under his breath, Sho chuckled. Aiba had gone to so much trouble, it bordered on being ridiculous.
As he sorted the pile, Sho caught a look at himself in the mirror, and took a long, steady look. His gaze dropped and the smile slowly fell from his face.
Aiba was surprised when Sho didn’t leave after the first day. He was even more surprised when Sho hadn’t left by the second.
It made him happy that someone else enjoyed his home and company enough to want to stay.
Even if Sho was only staying because he wouldn’t or couldn’t go home, Aiba was glad that Sho decided the little haphazard apartment was a good place to get a hold of his life again.
The last thing Sho wanted was to get comfortable.
But it was impossible not to.
Aiba was fun, and energetic, and, well, not so smart sometimes. But he made up for it with his big heart.
Every day Sho told himself he should move on, or at least get back to Tokyo.
But every night, Aiba would come upstairs from the store to make dinner and tell stories or jokes, or just talk about nothing at all and they would drink and eat.
Then Sho would fall asleep on the creaky couch feeling warm, full.
And happy.
“Wanna help me today?” Aiba asked over their breakfast of coffee.
“You mean…?” Sho whispered apprehensively, and pointed to the floor.
“Yes, in the shop.” Aiba laughed. “I have a shipment coming in this morning and I could use a hand.”
“I’ve never worked in the grocery business before, so I don‘t know if I‘ll be of much use...”
As tempting as it was to ask what job Sho used to do, Aiba felt Sho would tell him on his own one day.
Besides that truck was due at the store any moment and he didn’t have time to waste discovering Sho’s secrets.
“Can you lift crates of watermelon?”
“I think so...how heavy are th-”
“Great, you pass the interview! Let‘s get to work!”
Sho had never seen a green grocers operated like Aiba’s little stall.
It was set up like a normal little local grocery stall, and the cases of normal fruits and vegetables were wheeled out of their overnight home deeper inside the street level store.
What made it different was Aiba’s intensity.
An apron and a bandana were practically thrown at Sho as Aiba immediately ran to the shop’s garage door to wheel it up and open.
Sho had barely got the apron tied around his waist, yet Aiba already had half his crates lined up out front. A couple of oranges bounced off and rolled away. Sho watched one go. “Um, your oranges-”
“Sho-chan, you’re too slow!” Aiba interrupted, still running with the orange cart and losing more fruit along the way.
“I’m sorry…” Sho said, feeling shell shocked.
“It’s ok, I’m almost done anyway. Grab those cherry tomatoes there, no those are romas, the ones in the little baskets are cherries, yes ok, now stack them there. Ok ok!”
Aiba jogged out to the middle of the shopping street, and admired his little shop from a distance. “Looking good!” He clapped his hands and jogged back inside.
Sho plopped down on a folding chair near the old register. “We haven‘t even opened yet, but I’m already tired.”
“You can’t be tired yet!“ Aiba laughed, and joined him at the register. “I’ll show you how this works, so you can charge the customers. I’ll handle sales.”
“I thought you said a truck was coming.”
“It is, but you can do this too. Or would you rather sit upstairs and watch tv all day like you‘ve been doing?”
“No, sensei, please teach me the way of the grocery store!” Sho pleaded, closing his eyes, bowing his head and clapping his hands together.
“Good, I’m glad you’re taking this seriously.” Aiba said firmly, but his eyes were laughing.
Just as Aiba finished explaining the cash register, a delivery van pulled up outside. A small man in a blue jump suit and a towel tied around his head hopped out, and headed directly for the rear of the vehicle. “Yo, Aiba.”
“Nino! You’re so late today, they’re going to close the street to vehicle traffic if you don’t hurry!” Scolded Aiba, rushing forward to help unload the crates.
“Would you relax. They know me, they’ll let me out.”
Sho, unsure of how to help, approached from where he’d been sitting in back slowly, waiting to be noticed and needed.
“Ah, Sho-chan, take this and set it there.” Aiba passed him a crate. It was a lot heavier than he expected and he wobbled backwards, nearly knocking the case of oranges over.
“Be careful!” Aiba and the delivery man shouted in unison.
“S-sorry.” Hobbling, Sho carried the heavy case of watermelons over to where Aiba had pointed, next to the cantaloupes.
Aiba carried over two more cases of watermelons, and the delivery guy handed Sho one last case of honeydew before slamming the back doors of the van shut.
“Thanks Nino!” Aiba called, returning to the front of the shop to give him a hug. Sho arranged the cases, and tried not to watch. He wondered if all green grocers were this intimate with their delivery men, or if this was another trait unique to Aiba.
“I’ve already emailed you the invoice. See you next week.”
“I thought we were going drinking on Thursday.”
“Oh, that’s right. We can if you want. I think the other guys might be busy though.”
“That’s ok, I’ll bring Sho-chan. Oh, I forgot to introduce you two!” Wincing at his absentmindedness, Aiba waved Sho over.
“Nino, this is Sho-chan, Sho-chan, Nino.”
Sho held out his hand, taking Nino’s work-gloved one in his. “‘Nino?’ Is that short for…?”
“Ninomiya.” Nino smiled. “You might have noticed Aiba takes personal liberties.”
“I do not.” Huffed Aiba, already busy arranging his new melons to look more attractive. “Everyone calls you Nino, except that guy at the fish shop. It‘s not fair you let him call you Kazu.”
Nino rolled his eyes and sighed, exasperated, and Sho politely didn’t laugh. “I’m Sakurai, but you can call me Sho-chan too, if you like.”
Sho waited for Nino to ask him neighborly investigative questions, like ‘where are you from,’ or ‘how did you meet Aiba‘ or ‘how long are you going to be in town?’ but he didn’t.
Instead, Nino said, “You might have noticed this by now if he trusts you enough to keep shop with him, but Aiba’s something like a headless chicken. I worry he’ll drown himself in a cup of water one of these days, so take care of him for me, won’t you?”
“Who‘s a headless chicken?! Nino! I can hear you! ” Aiba grabbed a cherry tomato and threw it at Nino, who dodged behind Sho. The shot went wide and hit neither of them.
“Why do you think I said it?” Nino called laughing, still safely behind Sho in case Aiba‘s aim improved.
“Now now, children.” Sho said, in a deep, false teacher voice.
“He started it.” Mumbled Aiba, fetching the tomato he’d thrown, as well as the run-away oranges and throwing them in the trash.
“Anyway, I’ve got to be off before they close this street on me. Call me Thursday, Aiba.” Nino dusted himself off, and climbed into his van.
“See you later Nino, tell the fish guy I say hi, and thank him for the sardines from last time for me.” Aiba waved, and Nino returned it before driving off.
“He seems nice.” Sho said, turning back to the shop to see if there was anything he could help with.
“He is, once you learn that what he says isn‘t always what he means.” With a grin, Aiba disappeared behind the register counter for a moment, returning with price tag stickers for the melons and honeydews. “Now, my apprentice, are you ready?”
“R-ready for what?” Sho asked, a little nervous at both his new title and the glint in Aiba’s eye.
“For war. The old ladies around here are merciless.”
Aiba was surprised by how useful Sho turned out to be. At first, during the early morning old lady rush he had trouble keeping up with Aiba’s sale pace. But it turned out Sho was really good with numbers, and could work the register even faster than Aiba after a couple of days.
Aiba had always loved his job, but somehow, he was looking forward to opening the store with Sho more than he used to when it was just his store alone.
It made him a little apprehensive, but only at night after he was alone in his bedroom and Sho was asleep on the couch. When it was dark and quiet like this, it reminded him of how it lonely it was before Sho, and of how it was going to be after Sho left.
Drinking with Aiba’s friends on Thursday was actually fun. Nino was a little wise cracker, and once he and Aiba got started Sho thought he might die from laughing so hard.
When Nino’s boyfriend, the guy Aiba said was from the fish shop down the street showed up, Sho was a little surprised. He had thought Aiba was only teasing Nino the other day.
But Aiba didn’t seem to mind or care about how on top of each other they were sitting, except to tease or goad.
It made him wonder if Aiba had a girlfriend, or if Aiba was more like Nino.
While Sho had gone down to the 7Eleven to fetch them lunch, Aiba sold three eggplants, two carrots and one leek.
The customers gone, he sat back on the creaky lawn chair in the shade of the store, and waited for Sho.
Aiba looked around at his little vegetable and fruit filled store. It seemed so big now, whenever he was manning it alone.
Aiba already regretted sending him.
Every time he sent Sho out on errands alone, he was scared Sho wouldn’t come home.
No, that Sho would actually go home to his actual home. The one he shared with his wife.
But he kept sending Sho out, as if to test Sho’s own desires, even though Aiba’s fear seemed to double each time.
He shouldn’t have ever invited Sho in the first place. Maybe what he was doing was actually wrong. What if he was standing in the way of the repair their relationship? Maybe what Sho needed was a good push out the door and train fare back to Tokyo.
Or maybe his wife was dead already, but Sho couldn’t forget her so he left the ring on.
Aiba pulled at his hair, nervous and frustrated. He was dying to ask, but terribly afraid to know.
“Masaki, they were out of the tuna filled ones.” Sho called, appearing in front of the stall with a bag of rice balls, chips and bottled tea. “…is something wrong?”
“I’m fine.” Aiba stood up immediately, brightening, feeling the familiar whoosh of relief at Sho’s return. “It just felt like you were gone a long time.
“That’s because you were hungry.” Laughing, Sho tossed a rice ball to Aiba, and he caught it with both hands.
It was Sho‘s job to do the laundry. Despite Aiba’s protests, he had insisted. He wanted to be useful and earn his keep at least a little.
A few weeks ago, Sho had bought his own clothes so he wouldn’t have to borrow Aiba’s. But their tastes were so similar they couldn’t remember whose was whose anymore.
He hadn’t really meant to stay long enough to need his own clothes. He wasn’t even sure exactly how long he’d been at Aiba’s place. Time flowed like honey, slowly, but addictively sweet enough it was gone before he realized it. Even so, he liked it. There was work to do, and Aiba’s laughter was the soundtrack to his life.
He couldn’t even think of a day he hadn’t heard that high, contagious sound or hadn’t seen that brilliant, soul touching smile.
As he folded clean clothes, he chuckled to himself. “Somehow we’ve become so domestic.”
He held out a shirt to fold it, but stopped, his eyes catching on his left hand.
“Why?” Aiba asked, out of nowhere, and clearly his question confused a sleepy Sho who was reaching for his coffee.
“Because it’s caffeinated and I‘m thirsty?” Sho ventured, trying to take the mug.
“No, not that. It’s gone.” Aiba felt sick, like world was moving too fast and he needed to sit down. “Did you lose it? Do you want help finding it?”
“Oh.” Sho said quietly. “No, I know where it is.”
“Oh.” Aiba exhaled, relieved. “Good.”
Sho took a sip of his coffee, before setting the mug down quietly on the breakfast bar. “Actually, I think I’m going to shower first. Excuse me.”
Aiba climbed into the seat next to Sho’s vacated one, and looked at his own coffee, not really craving it anymore.
He couldn’t think of a reason for Sho to take it off after all this time. It made him feel like he’d done something terribly sinful, as if he were a mistress tempting away a married man.
Running a worried hand through his bed tossed hair, Aiba kept glancing back towards the bathroom door.
Sho wheeled the cart of apples back into the depths of the store.
“Hey, Nino, hey Oh-chan!” Aiba called, waving down the street at Nino, who was walking hand in hand with his sleepy fish stall boyfriend, both eating popsicles.
“Heeeeeey.” Nodded Ohno lifting his popsicle in greeting.
“What’s up, Aiba?” Nino asked, pulling them to a stop. “Closing time?”
“Excuse me, gentlemen.” Sho said, pushing Aiba forward a little with his elbow so he could push the cart of lemons and limes inside.
“Yeah, though it seems Sho-chan can do it all by himself now.” Aiba laughed. “I should just retire and leave my store to him.”
“You can talk and work at the same time you know.” Scolded Sho teasingly, flicking his bangs from his eyes.
Everyone laughed.
By the time Sho had tucked all of the boxes, crates and carts in the narrow isles inside the shop, Nino and Ohno had continued their meander down the closing shopping street.
He joined Aiba at the front, and helped him pull down the overhead door.
“It must be nice to be on a date in this weather.” Aiba said, shuffling in the narrow space between a table of corn ears and the newly closed door.
Sho chuckled, leaning down to latch the bolt lock. “That was a date? They were just walking along eating popsicles.”
Aiba tested the door by trying to pull it up, and was satisfied when it didn‘t budge. “Nino called it a date.”
“Then I feel bad for Ohno, he’s getting conned.” Sho squeezed around the same table of corn, waiting for Aiba to work his way back towards the inside door leading into the apartment.
“They’re spending time together.” Aiba said, thoughtfully. They were terribly close, yet Aiba didn’t seem to realize he was blocking the way. He met Sho’s eyes. “If spending time with your loved one isn’t a date, what is?”
“Going out to dinner. Catching a movie. Going shopping. That kind of thing.” Sho swallowed, feeling warm. It was nearly stifling in the shop with the door down, and Aiba was too close.
But he was stuck between the table of corn and the door, but to go backwards was a pointless dead end. And Aiba was dangerously, dangerously close.
He could count Aiba’s eyelashes.
His heart was pounding.
He could see the speckles in the brown of Aiba’s kind, curious eyes.
His lungs forgot how to function.
He could see Aiba’s adam’s apple bobbing in nervous swallows.
His brain told him to stop, stop it now, before he made a mistake.
He saw Aiba’s lips, timidly trembling.
Aiba felt his back hit the metal door.
Lips.
Tongue.
Hands.
It was when Aiba pushed him back for better angle, when he hit the table that had kept them so close together, when his lips were numb from over use that Sho stopped to breathe.
His head cleared.
Aiba looked bewildered, bordering on hurt for being pushed away.
“I’m sorry.” Sho said, feeling so scared it made him sick. “Masaki, I’m sorry.”
He shuffled around Aiba who had backed off when Sho shoved him away, and made it to the crowded aisle that led to the door back to the apartment. Half way there, he felt a hand grip his.
“Please,” Aiba‘s voice was horse, and as terrified as Sho felt, “Please, don’t go.”
“I’m sorry.“ Sho couldn’t look back at Aiba, he couldn’t bring his gaze up any further than his toes. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“For what to happen? You didn‘t mean to kiss me?” Now there was a hit of desperation, and of venting long pent up thoughts. “You didn’t mean to stay so long? You didn’t mean to come here in the first place? You didn’t mean to leave your wife?!”
“I didn’t mean to take so much advantage of your kindness!!” Sho wretched his arm free, shouting loud enough to rattle the metal door. “I didn’t mean to stay so long, and I didn’t mean to come here, and I didn’t mean to marry a woman who ended up leaving me and ruining my life!!”
Startled, Aiba stared at Sho, who was taking deep breaths and trying to calm himself after the explosion. He seemed to have lost energy and turned again so that his graceful but still slightly heaving shoulders were turned to Aiba.
“Sho-chan,” Aiba pleaded, “I’m sorry if I upset you, I didn’t mean to.”
Sho was silent for a moment, and Aiba barely heard him whisper, “I know what you’re going to say, but this isn’t one of those things where we can just ‘go back to the way things were.’”
He took a step towards the door.
Aiba’s heart plummeted to his stomach. He leapt forward and caught Sho’s wrist. “Sho-chan, please don‘t leave.”
“Please,” Sho breathed, sounding broken. “let me go.”
Something in his voice made Aiba’s fingers lose their hold.
Sho slipped away, and went into the apartment.
Numbly, Aiba followed, leaving the door behind him open, and the shop light on. He followed Sho all the way into the bedroom where Sho pulled his old suit out of Aiba’s closet, where it had been placed long ago for safe keeping.
Sho half glanced over his shoulder, and held up his suit. “Do you mind stepping out while I change?”
For a moment, Aiba saw himself lunging forward and knocking the stupid suit from Sho’s hands, forcing Sho backwards against the mirror on the closet door and kissing Sho so hard he wouldn’t ever remember he wanted to leave.
But Aiba nodded, and closed the bedroom door behind him.
He walked to the old, sagging plaid couch and sat down.
He stared at the dark screen of the tv, as if it were on.
With every nerve in his body, he felt the bedroom door open again. He pulled on a smile, and turned around to lean over the back of the couch.
Sho looked exactly like he did the day he arrived, though his hair was a little longer. He had composed himself a smile much like Aiba’s.
Fake and cheerless all the way through.
When Sho creaked the door open, he knew by the smell of stale air and dust that the apartment hadn’t seen a living soul since the evening he had left.
With his elbow, he flipped on the lights.
He slipped into the entry way, and slowly undid his shoes. As he walked along the wooden floor into the living area, his socked footsteps left clean a trail in the thin layer of dust.
He took off his jacket, and laid it on the back of the overly stuffed, hardly used sofa.
In the kitchen, he poured himself a cup of water in a glass he remembered as being a gift from his wife‘s brother. After a few sips, he poured the rest back into the sink, and placed the cup in after it.
His cell phone was on the counter, where he had absently left it when he came home from work one day, months ago. He hadn’t put it in the charger back then, and it’s battery was long dead.
He wondered how many missed calls and messages he had, but made no move to even touch the abandoned phone. Most would probably be from his boss anyway, and there was no point in checking to find out exactly how fired he was for not showing up for months without notice.
The house felt cold, even though it was late summer, and the air conditioning hadn’t been on since the heater was turned off in early spring.
But Sho knew where the frost came from.
The apartment didn’t feel like his house.
Even standing in the kitchen where she used to cook dinner, Sho felt separated from the life that was his not terribly long ago.
He had been a man who wanted to be married, who wanted a wife just to have a wife so he could feel like he‘d made a successful decision with his life. So his life could have purpose.
Love would have been nice, but Sho hadn’t thought it was necessary. He was no longer sure if there had ever been any in the first place.
Sho walked out of the kitchen to the dinning room, and pulled out one of the four chairs at the dinner table he had dreamed of eating at with his children, when he got around to having them.
On the tabletop was his wife’s last message. A post-it that read ‘Please sign and send to the address listed below.’
The post it was affixed to divorce papers that she had signed.
The address was for a post office box somewhere in Osaka.
There must have been another man there, for her to want to move so far so fast.
It didn’t bother Sho as much as he thought it would. True, he was angry, and hurt, and if her boyfriend ever showed his face Sho would send him home with a few less teeth if he could.
But what truly, deeply disturbed him was the realization that maybe the ideal adulthood, the life he‘d dreamt of living since high school wasn‘t going to work out as he had planned.
The wave of panic of being lost in life without a map that had caused him to run away the first time he saw these papers that he had felt when he first saw the divorce papers was gone.
Sho wondered how many people spent their mid-life crisis in Chiba selling tomatoes.
Emotionlessly, Sho grabbed the pen his wife thoughtfully left out, and carefully signed his name on the line designated for the husband.
The papers ruffled nosily in the empty apartment as he shoved the document into the envelope, and sealed it. He wrote the Osaka address on the envelope, and left the return address blank.
Wearily, Sho stood up, and shuffled into the sterile living room, lying face down on the couch.
It didn’t suck him in like Aiba’s did. Nor did it smell like Aiba’s, or have the same worn until it was soft upholstery.
Sho rolled over, uncomfortable, and saw his suit jacket still dangling over the couch near his waist. He pulled it towards him, and rummaged in the left pocket. He felt the cold of the wedding ring before it’s shape. Pulling it out, he turned it over, remembering not the day it was put on his finger, but that day while doing the laundry he decided to take it off.
Carefully he leaned over the edge of the couch and set the ring on the coffee table with a soft ‘clack,’ before rolling onto his back and pulling his suit jacket up over his face.
He missed Aiba’s couch.
He missed Aiba.
Aiba opened shop as he always opened shop. Nino came to deliver kumquats, oranges and clementines.
“Aiba, those don’t go there.” Nino scolded, taking the crate from Aiba and putting in it’s correct place with the other citrus fruits.
“Oh.” Aiba tried to focus, realizing now that he was trying to put the oranges with the carrots. “You’re right Nino, sorry.”
Aiba felt something touch his shoulder, and jumped a little. But it was only Nino, who was staring at him with wide eyes. Aiba tried to smile, heading back to the van for another case. “Sorry, I’m just a little out of it this morning.”
Nino frowned, and scratched his forehead under his bandana. “Are you going to tell me what happened now, or should I wait until tonight when you’re so upset you get drunk by yourself and call me to tell me in the middle of the night?”
“It’s….it’s…” Aiba tried, but felt his eyes welling up with tears and had to stop.
“He left, huh.” Nino guessed, and Aiba loved him for knowing without words. Though he might have just noticed by lack of Sho‘s presence. Nino was smart like that. “What did you guys fight about?”
“Nothing. I don’t know. I don’t think it was a fight.” Aiba sniffled. He tried to stop the few tears that managed to trickle over his defenses. “It all happened so fast.”
“What did?”
Aiba bowed his head, his hands clasping and unclasping together. “I…Nino…I kissed a married man.”
“You mean Sho? Was he married?” Nino looked shocked. “Are you serious?”
Aiba blinked, momentarily stunned that Nino hadn‘t known, “What did you think that ring was for?”
“I thought you gave it to him.” Nino shrugged. “He just kind of showed up one day living and working with you, what was I supposed to think? I also thought you two had gone a lot farther than just kissing by now.”
Morose, Aiba leaned against the back of Nino‘s van, “Are you kidding? I was so surprised last night when he kissed me.”
“I thought you said you kissed him.”
“Ah, no, it was the other way I guess at first, but when I started to try and take over, he pushed me away.” Aiba rubbed his knuckles together, and couldn’t bring himself to look up. “I was startled, and I said ‘please don’t go’ but he left and that’s what happened.”
“He kind of had weak looking girly lips to me.” Nino appeared in his peripheral vision, and leaned next to him against the van. “Was it a good kiss at least?”
“It was great.” Aiba laughed, broke down and sobbed.
Sho sold his apartment. It was too big, and full of things he didn’t want or need anymore.
He called his boss. As expected he was very, very, very fired.
But at least the secretary who connected Sho to the manager seemed be happy to hear Sho was actually alive.
Sho called his ex-wife, and informed her answering machine that the divorce papers were in the mail. He also thanked her for giving them both a chance to find new lives where they might be happy.
Aiba heard the swish of a convenience store bag swing on the arm of a pedestrian walking down the street.
It made his heart hurt.
He looked down, and saw the register.
It made his heart ache.
He looked ahead again, and couldn’t look anywhere except at the end of the table of corn.
Stupid table. Stupid corn.
Aiba wanted to cry, but he was at work, so he just sniffled.
The swishing of the bag got louder, and Aiba couldn’t help hoping, praying that it was Sho.
Suddenly the pedestrian came into view.
“Oh-chan.” Aiba sighed, sagging back into his chair, disappointed.
“Hey, Aiba-chan, my mom wants to exchange mackerel for lotus root and some garlic.” Ohno held up the bag.
Aiba nodded, taking the bag of fish. It looked fresh and worth a lot more than lotus roots and garlic. He passed Ohno a paper bag for the groceries. “Help yourself, and grab some apples too to make it fair.”
Ohno grinned, eagerly eying the shinny red apples. “I can’t promise they’ll make it home.”
Aiba smiled, “That’s ok too. I’m going to run this into the house real quick, to put in the freezer, could you watch the store for a couple seconds?”
Ohno nodded, selecting garlic, and placing it in the paper bag.
Aiba jogged upstairs and found room for the fish in the fridge. He checked his stock of rice and found it full.
As he stepped back downstairs he told himself to remember to grab a lemon after work, it would bring out the flavor when baked with the fish.
Aiba stepped back into his shop, and nearly tripped.
Ohno looked an awful lot like Sho from behind.
“That’s 250 yen, please.”
Ohno sounded an awful lot like Sho too.
Ohno turned to put the money into the register. He looked exactly like Sho from the front too.
Then Aiba remembered that he never taught Ohno the register. He’d only ever trained Sho.
But Sho wouldn’t, couldn’t, shouldn’t be here anymore.
He’d gone home.
Their eyes met from across the store. Sho’s were full of apology, full of fondness, full of longing.
Aiba stumbled blindly around the tables, and bumped into several, but he never looked away. “Sho-chan?” He breathed, reaching out and confirming it wasn’t a dream by touching Sho’s arm.
“I’m sorry for leaving so suddenly before.” Sho said, pulling Aiba’s hand into his own. “But if it’s alright, with you, I’d like to stay a while.”
“Of course.“ Aiba whispered, wrapping his arms around Sho and feeling whole when he wasn’t pushed away. He tried his luck further and pecked Sho‘s lips with the lightest of kisses.
Sho looked stunned, but he smiled nervously.
Aiba pulled him closer, “Welcome home.”
It was game night. Nino came over with a six pack and a huge foam finger that made Aiba laugh all the way until the game started.
Fortunately both Aiba and Nino supported the Giants, and, fortunately, the Giants were having a good night. Sho learned quickly that Nino was not afraid to beat something, or someone with the foam finger when the Giants got an out.
The win was celebrated, creatively, with even more beer.
Nino, drunk, asked, “Why are you here anyway, Sho-chan? Like, why did you start living with my Aiba? I‘m from Tokyo too, but I have family here. You don‘t. I want to know why.”
“Nino, shhh, that’s rude. Even I want to know, but it‘s better not to ask.” Aiba was flushed from the alcohol, and Sho thought it was kind of cute he was trying to be protective.
Sho thought about Nino’s question, and wished he’d drunk a little less so he could think about it better. “It was a case of being lost and found, right?”
“Right.” Aiba agreed with a sloppy grin. “And he stays because he loves me and I love him and life is perfect.”
“Yes,” Sho smiled, “It is.”
Title: Midlife Crisis
Pairings: Sakuraiba, Sho/unimportant OC, Ohmiya
Rating: Pg-13
Genre: Slice of Life, Mild Drama, Mild Angst
Summary: Aiba finds a salary man with sad eyes waiting at a bus stop in Tokyo and decides to take him home.
Note: For junbaitarashian, I’m pretty sure this is terribly far from what you wanted, but I hope it’s acceptable all the same.
Note 2: A short and fluffy Ohmiya side story can be found here~
Original prompt from junbaitarashian: sho is lost in the city and has nowhere to stay the night and he meets this stranger who right away gives him the impression that his an idiot but against his better judgement stays with him ... his somehow let's his guard down makes a "mistake" ;D ... Only to realize later that he has fallen for him...
It was raining softly.
The kind of rain at the end of a thunderstorm that just doesn’t know when to quit.
Aiba shook out his umbrella as he stepped under the small bus stop shelter.
He plopped onto the bench next to a stiff looking young salary man and checked his phone for the bus schedule.
“Ah, twenty minutes early, I knew I should have walked slower…” He mumbled to himself.
“But if you had walked faster,” The man sitting next to him turned, wearing an amused smile. “You’d have made the bus that left five minutes ago.”
“Ah! That’s also true.” Aiba laughed.
The man chuckled, and went back to looking out the rain splattered shelter for the bus.
“Are you waiting for the rain to stop?” Aiba asked, politely curious. “Or is your bus late because of the storm?”
“The buses aren‘t late, no.” The man turned around, puzzled
“Ah…it’s just, you don’t have an umbrella, but your suit is all dry.” Aiba noted, looking the man over. “It’s been raining for hours though, so you must have been sitting here a while.”
“Oh…” He shifted uncomfortably, and Aiba realized belatedly that he was being nosy.
“Sorry, I sometimes say things without thinking.” Embarrassed, Aiba bobbed his head in apology.
“No, it’s ok.” He smiled, but even though they had just met, Aiba could tell that there was a measure of sadness behind it.
Rain pattered on the roof, and cars splashed through the large puddles on the road.
“I suppose you could say I’m lost.” The salary man’s voice was slow, and unsure, “Or perhaps that I simply don’t know where to go from here.”
Concerned, Aiba nodded, “Sounds complicated.”
“I suppose it is.” He laughed, a miserable ironic laugh.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No, not really.”
“Well, if you need a pillow and a couch to sleep on, I could lend you mine.” It seemed the least he could do to help this dejected stranger.
Aiba was given a strange look, and the man sat straighter and scooted a little further away. “I’m sorry, I’m not really into things like that. Please look elsewhere.”
“Oh! No, not that! I didn’t mean it like that! I really am just offering my couch, no other…uh…services.” Aiba could feel himself turning scarlet, and wished he had found a better way to phrase the invitation. “I’m not into that kind of stuff either.”
The sad salary man looked startled, as if he didn‘t know quite what to do when faced with a genuine act of kindness, “Oh no, I couldn’t-”
“Please, I insist! I can’t just leave someone out in the rain like this.”
The man regarded him with an amused sparkle overtaking the haunted shadows in his eyes. “I do appreciate your offer, but I could go find a hotel.”
“You could, but if you were going to do that, you’d be at a hotel by now, wouldn’t you?”
He laughed again, his sloping shoulders finally losing their earlier stiffness. The change made him look younger, and more handsome. “I didn’t realize I looked so much like a helpless abandoned dog that someone would go to such lengths to take care of me.”
“I’m sorry, but,“ With a guilty smile, Aiba glanced at the bus stop shelter they were sitting in, the rain pouring outside, and the perfectly dry suit. “You do look an awful lot like one to me.”
“You can just leave your shoes there, and I think I have some guest slippers-ah-yes here they are.”
Sho slipped out of his shoes and into the shabby slippers, aligning them with the others in the entry. As he stepped into the house he looked around curiously.
Aiba, had a nice, humble home in a small apartment above a store on a local shopping street. It was messy in an organized bachelor way and there was absolutely no coherence in the interior design. It looked more comfortable, lived in and welcoming than any house Sho had ever been in.
Even as Sho walked inside, it was in mild disbelief. It was difficult and intriguing to think that such a naïve person still existed. Aiba had no idea who Sho was, where he came from or whether or not he was a criminal, yet he invited such an absolute stranger into his home.
Then Sho realized that he didn’t know anything about Aiba either. Aiba could be a murderer, or a rapist.
Yet, he got on that bus that took them to Chiba.
“The kitchen is there, you can help yourself to everything in the fridge and cupboards. And the living room is there on the right. Careful with that couch though it‘s kinda old so the springs are worn and it sucks you in.”
“It looks comfy.” Sho smiled at the sagging plaid couch across the room before turning back to his host. “Are you sure this is ok? It‘s not too late for me to find a hotel…”
“You can go if you want, or if my place isn‘t suitable.” He said, not quite ruefully.
Already in love with the place, Sho nearly scoffed. “It’s so suitable, I’m afraid if I stay the night, I might not want to leave tomorrow.”
“That’s ok with me!” Said Aiba, genuinely happy. “Stay as long as you want, and leave whenever you feel like it.”
“That’s seriously a dangerous thing to offer to a man who’s currently lost in life.“
Aiba laughed, “Or maybe it’s the right thing to say to someone with nowhere better to go.”
Even though he really, really, really, really wanted to, as they ate a late dinner of convenience store bentos, Aiba didn’t ask why Sho was sitting at that bus stop in Tokyo.
He didn’t ask because he was afraid it would make Sho feel awkward or get angry or leave.
Maybe he lost his job, couldn’t afford rent and got evicted.
Maybe his old house caught on fire and he hasn’t found a new place yet.
Or maybe it had something to do with the gold ring on his finger.
In the morning, Sho woke up deeply submerged in the crevice of the couch. Dislodging a few cushions to free himself, he landed on all fours on the living room floor with a loud thump.
Aiba laughed, calling from the kitchen. “I warned you it was a tar pit!”
Rubbing his neck, Sho joined Aiba. “I was comfortable and all, but it was kind of scary waking up like that. The couch really did eat me.”
Chuckling, Aiba poured coffee. “Milk and sugar?”
“Black will be fine, thank you.” Sho gave a nod of thanks as he took his cup and settled into one of the stools at the breakfast bar. “And thanks for lending me a pair of pajamas.”
“I couldn’t have you sleep in that nice suit. I don’t know if they’ll fit, but there’s some jeans and a shirt in the bathroom for you too, if you want to take a shower.”
“Thank you.“ Sho smiled, and raised his mug teasingly. “This is the best bed and breakfast I’ve ever stayed at. Five star service.”
Aiba laughed all the way to his eyes, and looked pleased.
After he’d finished his coffee, Sho headed for the bathroom. A bath towel, a hand towel, jeans, a shirt, a pair of clean underwear, a new razor and tooth brush were all neatly arranged and waiting for him on the bathroom sink.
Under his breath, Sho chuckled. Aiba had gone to so much trouble, it bordered on being ridiculous.
As he sorted the pile, Sho caught a look at himself in the mirror, and took a long, steady look. His gaze dropped and the smile slowly fell from his face.
Aiba was surprised when Sho didn’t leave after the first day. He was even more surprised when Sho hadn’t left by the second.
It made him happy that someone else enjoyed his home and company enough to want to stay.
Even if Sho was only staying because he wouldn’t or couldn’t go home, Aiba was glad that Sho decided the little haphazard apartment was a good place to get a hold of his life again.
The last thing Sho wanted was to get comfortable.
But it was impossible not to.
Aiba was fun, and energetic, and, well, not so smart sometimes. But he made up for it with his big heart.
Every day Sho told himself he should move on, or at least get back to Tokyo.
But every night, Aiba would come upstairs from the store to make dinner and tell stories or jokes, or just talk about nothing at all and they would drink and eat.
Then Sho would fall asleep on the creaky couch feeling warm, full.
And happy.
“Wanna help me today?” Aiba asked over their breakfast of coffee.
“You mean…?” Sho whispered apprehensively, and pointed to the floor.
“Yes, in the shop.” Aiba laughed. “I have a shipment coming in this morning and I could use a hand.”
“I’ve never worked in the grocery business before, so I don‘t know if I‘ll be of much use...”
As tempting as it was to ask what job Sho used to do, Aiba felt Sho would tell him on his own one day.
Besides that truck was due at the store any moment and he didn’t have time to waste discovering Sho’s secrets.
“Can you lift crates of watermelon?”
“I think so...how heavy are th-”
“Great, you pass the interview! Let‘s get to work!”
Sho had never seen a green grocers operated like Aiba’s little stall.
It was set up like a normal little local grocery stall, and the cases of normal fruits and vegetables were wheeled out of their overnight home deeper inside the street level store.
What made it different was Aiba’s intensity.
An apron and a bandana were practically thrown at Sho as Aiba immediately ran to the shop’s garage door to wheel it up and open.
Sho had barely got the apron tied around his waist, yet Aiba already had half his crates lined up out front. A couple of oranges bounced off and rolled away. Sho watched one go. “Um, your oranges-”
“Sho-chan, you’re too slow!” Aiba interrupted, still running with the orange cart and losing more fruit along the way.
“I’m sorry…” Sho said, feeling shell shocked.
“It’s ok, I’m almost done anyway. Grab those cherry tomatoes there, no those are romas, the ones in the little baskets are cherries, yes ok, now stack them there. Ok ok!”
Aiba jogged out to the middle of the shopping street, and admired his little shop from a distance. “Looking good!” He clapped his hands and jogged back inside.
Sho plopped down on a folding chair near the old register. “We haven‘t even opened yet, but I’m already tired.”
“You can’t be tired yet!“ Aiba laughed, and joined him at the register. “I’ll show you how this works, so you can charge the customers. I’ll handle sales.”
“I thought you said a truck was coming.”
“It is, but you can do this too. Or would you rather sit upstairs and watch tv all day like you‘ve been doing?”
“No, sensei, please teach me the way of the grocery store!” Sho pleaded, closing his eyes, bowing his head and clapping his hands together.
“Good, I’m glad you’re taking this seriously.” Aiba said firmly, but his eyes were laughing.
Just as Aiba finished explaining the cash register, a delivery van pulled up outside. A small man in a blue jump suit and a towel tied around his head hopped out, and headed directly for the rear of the vehicle. “Yo, Aiba.”
“Nino! You’re so late today, they’re going to close the street to vehicle traffic if you don’t hurry!” Scolded Aiba, rushing forward to help unload the crates.
“Would you relax. They know me, they’ll let me out.”
Sho, unsure of how to help, approached from where he’d been sitting in back slowly, waiting to be noticed and needed.
“Ah, Sho-chan, take this and set it there.” Aiba passed him a crate. It was a lot heavier than he expected and he wobbled backwards, nearly knocking the case of oranges over.
“Be careful!” Aiba and the delivery man shouted in unison.
“S-sorry.” Hobbling, Sho carried the heavy case of watermelons over to where Aiba had pointed, next to the cantaloupes.
Aiba carried over two more cases of watermelons, and the delivery guy handed Sho one last case of honeydew before slamming the back doors of the van shut.
“Thanks Nino!” Aiba called, returning to the front of the shop to give him a hug. Sho arranged the cases, and tried not to watch. He wondered if all green grocers were this intimate with their delivery men, or if this was another trait unique to Aiba.
“I’ve already emailed you the invoice. See you next week.”
“I thought we were going drinking on Thursday.”
“Oh, that’s right. We can if you want. I think the other guys might be busy though.”
“That’s ok, I’ll bring Sho-chan. Oh, I forgot to introduce you two!” Wincing at his absentmindedness, Aiba waved Sho over.
“Nino, this is Sho-chan, Sho-chan, Nino.”
Sho held out his hand, taking Nino’s work-gloved one in his. “‘Nino?’ Is that short for…?”
“Ninomiya.” Nino smiled. “You might have noticed Aiba takes personal liberties.”
“I do not.” Huffed Aiba, already busy arranging his new melons to look more attractive. “Everyone calls you Nino, except that guy at the fish shop. It‘s not fair you let him call you Kazu.”
Nino rolled his eyes and sighed, exasperated, and Sho politely didn’t laugh. “I’m Sakurai, but you can call me Sho-chan too, if you like.”
Sho waited for Nino to ask him neighborly investigative questions, like ‘where are you from,’ or ‘how did you meet Aiba‘ or ‘how long are you going to be in town?’ but he didn’t.
Instead, Nino said, “You might have noticed this by now if he trusts you enough to keep shop with him, but Aiba’s something like a headless chicken. I worry he’ll drown himself in a cup of water one of these days, so take care of him for me, won’t you?”
“Who‘s a headless chicken?! Nino! I can hear you! ” Aiba grabbed a cherry tomato and threw it at Nino, who dodged behind Sho. The shot went wide and hit neither of them.
“Why do you think I said it?” Nino called laughing, still safely behind Sho in case Aiba‘s aim improved.
“Now now, children.” Sho said, in a deep, false teacher voice.
“He started it.” Mumbled Aiba, fetching the tomato he’d thrown, as well as the run-away oranges and throwing them in the trash.
“Anyway, I’ve got to be off before they close this street on me. Call me Thursday, Aiba.” Nino dusted himself off, and climbed into his van.
“See you later Nino, tell the fish guy I say hi, and thank him for the sardines from last time for me.” Aiba waved, and Nino returned it before driving off.
“He seems nice.” Sho said, turning back to the shop to see if there was anything he could help with.
“He is, once you learn that what he says isn‘t always what he means.” With a grin, Aiba disappeared behind the register counter for a moment, returning with price tag stickers for the melons and honeydews. “Now, my apprentice, are you ready?”
“R-ready for what?” Sho asked, a little nervous at both his new title and the glint in Aiba’s eye.
“For war. The old ladies around here are merciless.”
Aiba was surprised by how useful Sho turned out to be. At first, during the early morning old lady rush he had trouble keeping up with Aiba’s sale pace. But it turned out Sho was really good with numbers, and could work the register even faster than Aiba after a couple of days.
Aiba had always loved his job, but somehow, he was looking forward to opening the store with Sho more than he used to when it was just his store alone.
It made him a little apprehensive, but only at night after he was alone in his bedroom and Sho was asleep on the couch. When it was dark and quiet like this, it reminded him of how it lonely it was before Sho, and of how it was going to be after Sho left.
Drinking with Aiba’s friends on Thursday was actually fun. Nino was a little wise cracker, and once he and Aiba got started Sho thought he might die from laughing so hard.
When Nino’s boyfriend, the guy Aiba said was from the fish shop down the street showed up, Sho was a little surprised. He had thought Aiba was only teasing Nino the other day.
But Aiba didn’t seem to mind or care about how on top of each other they were sitting, except to tease or goad.
It made him wonder if Aiba had a girlfriend, or if Aiba was more like Nino.
While Sho had gone down to the 7Eleven to fetch them lunch, Aiba sold three eggplants, two carrots and one leek.
The customers gone, he sat back on the creaky lawn chair in the shade of the store, and waited for Sho.
Aiba looked around at his little vegetable and fruit filled store. It seemed so big now, whenever he was manning it alone.
Aiba already regretted sending him.
Every time he sent Sho out on errands alone, he was scared Sho wouldn’t come home.
No, that Sho would actually go home to his actual home. The one he shared with his wife.
But he kept sending Sho out, as if to test Sho’s own desires, even though Aiba’s fear seemed to double each time.
He shouldn’t have ever invited Sho in the first place. Maybe what he was doing was actually wrong. What if he was standing in the way of the repair their relationship? Maybe what Sho needed was a good push out the door and train fare back to Tokyo.
Or maybe his wife was dead already, but Sho couldn’t forget her so he left the ring on.
Aiba pulled at his hair, nervous and frustrated. He was dying to ask, but terribly afraid to know.
“Masaki, they were out of the tuna filled ones.” Sho called, appearing in front of the stall with a bag of rice balls, chips and bottled tea. “…is something wrong?”
“I’m fine.” Aiba stood up immediately, brightening, feeling the familiar whoosh of relief at Sho’s return. “It just felt like you were gone a long time.
“That’s because you were hungry.” Laughing, Sho tossed a rice ball to Aiba, and he caught it with both hands.
It was Sho‘s job to do the laundry. Despite Aiba’s protests, he had insisted. He wanted to be useful and earn his keep at least a little.
A few weeks ago, Sho had bought his own clothes so he wouldn’t have to borrow Aiba’s. But their tastes were so similar they couldn’t remember whose was whose anymore.
He hadn’t really meant to stay long enough to need his own clothes. He wasn’t even sure exactly how long he’d been at Aiba’s place. Time flowed like honey, slowly, but addictively sweet enough it was gone before he realized it. Even so, he liked it. There was work to do, and Aiba’s laughter was the soundtrack to his life.
He couldn’t even think of a day he hadn’t heard that high, contagious sound or hadn’t seen that brilliant, soul touching smile.
As he folded clean clothes, he chuckled to himself. “Somehow we’ve become so domestic.”
He held out a shirt to fold it, but stopped, his eyes catching on his left hand.
“Why?” Aiba asked, out of nowhere, and clearly his question confused a sleepy Sho who was reaching for his coffee.
“Because it’s caffeinated and I‘m thirsty?” Sho ventured, trying to take the mug.
“No, not that. It’s gone.” Aiba felt sick, like world was moving too fast and he needed to sit down. “Did you lose it? Do you want help finding it?”
“Oh.” Sho said quietly. “No, I know where it is.”
“Oh.” Aiba exhaled, relieved. “Good.”
Sho took a sip of his coffee, before setting the mug down quietly on the breakfast bar. “Actually, I think I’m going to shower first. Excuse me.”
Aiba climbed into the seat next to Sho’s vacated one, and looked at his own coffee, not really craving it anymore.
He couldn’t think of a reason for Sho to take it off after all this time. It made him feel like he’d done something terribly sinful, as if he were a mistress tempting away a married man.
Running a worried hand through his bed tossed hair, Aiba kept glancing back towards the bathroom door.
Sho wheeled the cart of apples back into the depths of the store.
“Hey, Nino, hey Oh-chan!” Aiba called, waving down the street at Nino, who was walking hand in hand with his sleepy fish stall boyfriend, both eating popsicles.
“Heeeeeey.” Nodded Ohno lifting his popsicle in greeting.
“What’s up, Aiba?” Nino asked, pulling them to a stop. “Closing time?”
“Excuse me, gentlemen.” Sho said, pushing Aiba forward a little with his elbow so he could push the cart of lemons and limes inside.
“Yeah, though it seems Sho-chan can do it all by himself now.” Aiba laughed. “I should just retire and leave my store to him.”
“You can talk and work at the same time you know.” Scolded Sho teasingly, flicking his bangs from his eyes.
Everyone laughed.
By the time Sho had tucked all of the boxes, crates and carts in the narrow isles inside the shop, Nino and Ohno had continued their meander down the closing shopping street.
He joined Aiba at the front, and helped him pull down the overhead door.
“It must be nice to be on a date in this weather.” Aiba said, shuffling in the narrow space between a table of corn ears and the newly closed door.
Sho chuckled, leaning down to latch the bolt lock. “That was a date? They were just walking along eating popsicles.”
Aiba tested the door by trying to pull it up, and was satisfied when it didn‘t budge. “Nino called it a date.”
“Then I feel bad for Ohno, he’s getting conned.” Sho squeezed around the same table of corn, waiting for Aiba to work his way back towards the inside door leading into the apartment.
“They’re spending time together.” Aiba said, thoughtfully. They were terribly close, yet Aiba didn’t seem to realize he was blocking the way. He met Sho’s eyes. “If spending time with your loved one isn’t a date, what is?”
“Going out to dinner. Catching a movie. Going shopping. That kind of thing.” Sho swallowed, feeling warm. It was nearly stifling in the shop with the door down, and Aiba was too close.
But he was stuck between the table of corn and the door, but to go backwards was a pointless dead end. And Aiba was dangerously, dangerously close.
He could count Aiba’s eyelashes.
His heart was pounding.
He could see the speckles in the brown of Aiba’s kind, curious eyes.
His lungs forgot how to function.
He could see Aiba’s adam’s apple bobbing in nervous swallows.
His brain told him to stop, stop it now, before he made a mistake.
He saw Aiba’s lips, timidly trembling.
Aiba felt his back hit the metal door.
Lips.
Tongue.
Hands.
It was when Aiba pushed him back for better angle, when he hit the table that had kept them so close together, when his lips were numb from over use that Sho stopped to breathe.
His head cleared.
Aiba looked bewildered, bordering on hurt for being pushed away.
“I’m sorry.” Sho said, feeling so scared it made him sick. “Masaki, I’m sorry.”
He shuffled around Aiba who had backed off when Sho shoved him away, and made it to the crowded aisle that led to the door back to the apartment. Half way there, he felt a hand grip his.
“Please,” Aiba‘s voice was horse, and as terrified as Sho felt, “Please, don’t go.”
“I’m sorry.“ Sho couldn’t look back at Aiba, he couldn’t bring his gaze up any further than his toes. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“For what to happen? You didn‘t mean to kiss me?” Now there was a hit of desperation, and of venting long pent up thoughts. “You didn’t mean to stay so long? You didn’t mean to come here in the first place? You didn’t mean to leave your wife?!”
“I didn’t mean to take so much advantage of your kindness!!” Sho wretched his arm free, shouting loud enough to rattle the metal door. “I didn’t mean to stay so long, and I didn’t mean to come here, and I didn’t mean to marry a woman who ended up leaving me and ruining my life!!”
Startled, Aiba stared at Sho, who was taking deep breaths and trying to calm himself after the explosion. He seemed to have lost energy and turned again so that his graceful but still slightly heaving shoulders were turned to Aiba.
“Sho-chan,” Aiba pleaded, “I’m sorry if I upset you, I didn’t mean to.”
Sho was silent for a moment, and Aiba barely heard him whisper, “I know what you’re going to say, but this isn’t one of those things where we can just ‘go back to the way things were.’”
He took a step towards the door.
Aiba’s heart plummeted to his stomach. He leapt forward and caught Sho’s wrist. “Sho-chan, please don‘t leave.”
“Please,” Sho breathed, sounding broken. “let me go.”
Something in his voice made Aiba’s fingers lose their hold.
Sho slipped away, and went into the apartment.
Numbly, Aiba followed, leaving the door behind him open, and the shop light on. He followed Sho all the way into the bedroom where Sho pulled his old suit out of Aiba’s closet, where it had been placed long ago for safe keeping.
Sho half glanced over his shoulder, and held up his suit. “Do you mind stepping out while I change?”
For a moment, Aiba saw himself lunging forward and knocking the stupid suit from Sho’s hands, forcing Sho backwards against the mirror on the closet door and kissing Sho so hard he wouldn’t ever remember he wanted to leave.
But Aiba nodded, and closed the bedroom door behind him.
He walked to the old, sagging plaid couch and sat down.
He stared at the dark screen of the tv, as if it were on.
With every nerve in his body, he felt the bedroom door open again. He pulled on a smile, and turned around to lean over the back of the couch.
Sho looked exactly like he did the day he arrived, though his hair was a little longer. He had composed himself a smile much like Aiba’s.
Fake and cheerless all the way through.
When Sho creaked the door open, he knew by the smell of stale air and dust that the apartment hadn’t seen a living soul since the evening he had left.
With his elbow, he flipped on the lights.
He slipped into the entry way, and slowly undid his shoes. As he walked along the wooden floor into the living area, his socked footsteps left clean a trail in the thin layer of dust.
He took off his jacket, and laid it on the back of the overly stuffed, hardly used sofa.
In the kitchen, he poured himself a cup of water in a glass he remembered as being a gift from his wife‘s brother. After a few sips, he poured the rest back into the sink, and placed the cup in after it.
His cell phone was on the counter, where he had absently left it when he came home from work one day, months ago. He hadn’t put it in the charger back then, and it’s battery was long dead.
He wondered how many missed calls and messages he had, but made no move to even touch the abandoned phone. Most would probably be from his boss anyway, and there was no point in checking to find out exactly how fired he was for not showing up for months without notice.
The house felt cold, even though it was late summer, and the air conditioning hadn’t been on since the heater was turned off in early spring.
But Sho knew where the frost came from.
The apartment didn’t feel like his house.
Even standing in the kitchen where she used to cook dinner, Sho felt separated from the life that was his not terribly long ago.
He had been a man who wanted to be married, who wanted a wife just to have a wife so he could feel like he‘d made a successful decision with his life. So his life could have purpose.
Love would have been nice, but Sho hadn’t thought it was necessary. He was no longer sure if there had ever been any in the first place.
Sho walked out of the kitchen to the dinning room, and pulled out one of the four chairs at the dinner table he had dreamed of eating at with his children, when he got around to having them.
On the tabletop was his wife’s last message. A post-it that read ‘Please sign and send to the address listed below.’
The post it was affixed to divorce papers that she had signed.
The address was for a post office box somewhere in Osaka.
There must have been another man there, for her to want to move so far so fast.
It didn’t bother Sho as much as he thought it would. True, he was angry, and hurt, and if her boyfriend ever showed his face Sho would send him home with a few less teeth if he could.
But what truly, deeply disturbed him was the realization that maybe the ideal adulthood, the life he‘d dreamt of living since high school wasn‘t going to work out as he had planned.
The wave of panic of being lost in life without a map that had caused him to run away the first time he saw these papers that he had felt when he first saw the divorce papers was gone.
Sho wondered how many people spent their mid-life crisis in Chiba selling tomatoes.
Emotionlessly, Sho grabbed the pen his wife thoughtfully left out, and carefully signed his name on the line designated for the husband.
The papers ruffled nosily in the empty apartment as he shoved the document into the envelope, and sealed it. He wrote the Osaka address on the envelope, and left the return address blank.
Wearily, Sho stood up, and shuffled into the sterile living room, lying face down on the couch.
It didn’t suck him in like Aiba’s did. Nor did it smell like Aiba’s, or have the same worn until it was soft upholstery.
Sho rolled over, uncomfortable, and saw his suit jacket still dangling over the couch near his waist. He pulled it towards him, and rummaged in the left pocket. He felt the cold of the wedding ring before it’s shape. Pulling it out, he turned it over, remembering not the day it was put on his finger, but that day while doing the laundry he decided to take it off.
Carefully he leaned over the edge of the couch and set the ring on the coffee table with a soft ‘clack,’ before rolling onto his back and pulling his suit jacket up over his face.
He missed Aiba’s couch.
He missed Aiba.
Aiba opened shop as he always opened shop. Nino came to deliver kumquats, oranges and clementines.
“Aiba, those don’t go there.” Nino scolded, taking the crate from Aiba and putting in it’s correct place with the other citrus fruits.
“Oh.” Aiba tried to focus, realizing now that he was trying to put the oranges with the carrots. “You’re right Nino, sorry.”
Aiba felt something touch his shoulder, and jumped a little. But it was only Nino, who was staring at him with wide eyes. Aiba tried to smile, heading back to the van for another case. “Sorry, I’m just a little out of it this morning.”
Nino frowned, and scratched his forehead under his bandana. “Are you going to tell me what happened now, or should I wait until tonight when you’re so upset you get drunk by yourself and call me to tell me in the middle of the night?”
“It’s….it’s…” Aiba tried, but felt his eyes welling up with tears and had to stop.
“He left, huh.” Nino guessed, and Aiba loved him for knowing without words. Though he might have just noticed by lack of Sho‘s presence. Nino was smart like that. “What did you guys fight about?”
“Nothing. I don’t know. I don’t think it was a fight.” Aiba sniffled. He tried to stop the few tears that managed to trickle over his defenses. “It all happened so fast.”
“What did?”
Aiba bowed his head, his hands clasping and unclasping together. “I…Nino…I kissed a married man.”
“You mean Sho? Was he married?” Nino looked shocked. “Are you serious?”
Aiba blinked, momentarily stunned that Nino hadn‘t known, “What did you think that ring was for?”
“I thought you gave it to him.” Nino shrugged. “He just kind of showed up one day living and working with you, what was I supposed to think? I also thought you two had gone a lot farther than just kissing by now.”
Morose, Aiba leaned against the back of Nino‘s van, “Are you kidding? I was so surprised last night when he kissed me.”
“I thought you said you kissed him.”
“Ah, no, it was the other way I guess at first, but when I started to try and take over, he pushed me away.” Aiba rubbed his knuckles together, and couldn’t bring himself to look up. “I was startled, and I said ‘please don’t go’ but he left and that’s what happened.”
“He kind of had weak looking girly lips to me.” Nino appeared in his peripheral vision, and leaned next to him against the van. “Was it a good kiss at least?”
“It was great.” Aiba laughed, broke down and sobbed.
Sho sold his apartment. It was too big, and full of things he didn’t want or need anymore.
He called his boss. As expected he was very, very, very fired.
But at least the secretary who connected Sho to the manager seemed be happy to hear Sho was actually alive.
Sho called his ex-wife, and informed her answering machine that the divorce papers were in the mail. He also thanked her for giving them both a chance to find new lives where they might be happy.
Aiba heard the swish of a convenience store bag swing on the arm of a pedestrian walking down the street.
It made his heart hurt.
He looked down, and saw the register.
It made his heart ache.
He looked ahead again, and couldn’t look anywhere except at the end of the table of corn.
Stupid table. Stupid corn.
Aiba wanted to cry, but he was at work, so he just sniffled.
The swishing of the bag got louder, and Aiba couldn’t help hoping, praying that it was Sho.
Suddenly the pedestrian came into view.
“Oh-chan.” Aiba sighed, sagging back into his chair, disappointed.
“Hey, Aiba-chan, my mom wants to exchange mackerel for lotus root and some garlic.” Ohno held up the bag.
Aiba nodded, taking the bag of fish. It looked fresh and worth a lot more than lotus roots and garlic. He passed Ohno a paper bag for the groceries. “Help yourself, and grab some apples too to make it fair.”
Ohno grinned, eagerly eying the shinny red apples. “I can’t promise they’ll make it home.”
Aiba smiled, “That’s ok too. I’m going to run this into the house real quick, to put in the freezer, could you watch the store for a couple seconds?”
Ohno nodded, selecting garlic, and placing it in the paper bag.
Aiba jogged upstairs and found room for the fish in the fridge. He checked his stock of rice and found it full.
As he stepped back downstairs he told himself to remember to grab a lemon after work, it would bring out the flavor when baked with the fish.
Aiba stepped back into his shop, and nearly tripped.
Ohno looked an awful lot like Sho from behind.
“That’s 250 yen, please.”
Ohno sounded an awful lot like Sho too.
Ohno turned to put the money into the register. He looked exactly like Sho from the front too.
Then Aiba remembered that he never taught Ohno the register. He’d only ever trained Sho.
But Sho wouldn’t, couldn’t, shouldn’t be here anymore.
He’d gone home.
Their eyes met from across the store. Sho’s were full of apology, full of fondness, full of longing.
Aiba stumbled blindly around the tables, and bumped into several, but he never looked away. “Sho-chan?” He breathed, reaching out and confirming it wasn’t a dream by touching Sho’s arm.
“I’m sorry for leaving so suddenly before.” Sho said, pulling Aiba’s hand into his own. “But if it’s alright, with you, I’d like to stay a while.”
“Of course.“ Aiba whispered, wrapping his arms around Sho and feeling whole when he wasn’t pushed away. He tried his luck further and pecked Sho‘s lips with the lightest of kisses.
Sho looked stunned, but he smiled nervously.
Aiba pulled him closer, “Welcome home.”
It was game night. Nino came over with a six pack and a huge foam finger that made Aiba laugh all the way until the game started.
Fortunately both Aiba and Nino supported the Giants, and, fortunately, the Giants were having a good night. Sho learned quickly that Nino was not afraid to beat something, or someone with the foam finger when the Giants got an out.
The win was celebrated, creatively, with even more beer.
Nino, drunk, asked, “Why are you here anyway, Sho-chan? Like, why did you start living with my Aiba? I‘m from Tokyo too, but I have family here. You don‘t. I want to know why.”
“Nino, shhh, that’s rude. Even I want to know, but it‘s better not to ask.” Aiba was flushed from the alcohol, and Sho thought it was kind of cute he was trying to be protective.
Sho thought about Nino’s question, and wished he’d drunk a little less so he could think about it better. “It was a case of being lost and found, right?”
“Right.” Aiba agreed with a sloppy grin. “And he stays because he loves me and I love him and life is perfect.”
“Yes,” Sho smiled, “It is.”