All Arashi Pairs Challenge: Fic 4, Ohba (mini series, chapter 1)
A new mini-series because I just can't control myself! Although the last time I called something a mini series it ended up about 10 chapters long. Which brings us to the question, is it a mini series when chapters are short but the series is long, or when the series is short and the chapters are long? Hmmm. Anyway, Ohba!
I've always considered Ohba one of the most difficult pairings to write. Their relationship is difficult to put into words, and even more difficult to express in action. Also, it seems when I tell myself to write anything other than Ohmiya, the Ohmiya plot bunnies in my brain have another litter of baby plot bunnies. Hmmm. Anyway, Ohba.
Title: A house called Happiness
Chapter: 1/?
Pair: Ohba friendship! :D
Rating: G
Genre: Friendship
Summary: Aiba falls in love with a broken down, lost cause of a house by the sea. Ohno happens to fall in love with the same house. Realtor Matsumoto tries to convince them otherwise.
Note: 4th in the All Pairs Challenge, Ohba for eufry, a friend I have known and loved for countless years now, and will never tire of talking to, even if we haven't had a chance in a very long time. And just so you know, the working title for this was 'Ohba on a Cliff by the Sea.'
Note 2: Extreme artistic license taken with the realtor business: highly inaccurate
Original Prompt: Friendship! Ohno and Aiba decide to spend an entire holiday turning a very old shack by the sea into an actual home in which they can stay at and go fishing or fiddle with seaweeds. :D
Beside the sea there was a house.
It was small, and not even much of a house.
But it tried, and that was the important thing.
It tried so hard it was impossible for Aiba not to notice as he rode by.
It called to him.
Just like the rusty broken bikes he bought, because he could tell they were lonely. Like his collection of misfit shoes. Just because they were missing their other halves, didn’t mean they should be loved less.
“It was love at first sight.” Aiba concluded his story to the realtor, a man in a sharp suit with an even sharper violet tie.
“That’s all very well and good.” Realtor Matsumoto said, with a bit of reservation in his voice. “However, despite the fact that this land with the old shack is indeed for sale, we’re talking about beach front property.”
“So it’s going to be expensive, right?” Aiba sagged back in the chair.
“Yes, not to mention renovating or even rebuilding a house on this property might not even be advisable.”
“Why not?” Sitting up straighter, Aiba said, indignantly, “Its tried so hard to hang in there up until now, it only makes sense to help it back on its feet. Or foundations. You know what I mean.”
“Yes, but,” Matsumoto pressed, a bit of a losing-patience edge in his voice, “please consider the geological implications of owning a home so close to the water front. The front door is literally twenty steps from the water at high tide. In the event of a storm surge, or a typhoon or, heaven forbid, a tsunami, the whole property will be deep under water.”
“I don’t understand why you’re trying to convince me not to buy property from you.” Aiba scoffed.
“Because I can’t just let a customer unknowingly purchase a house in the line of so many potential natural disasters.”
“Potential.” Aiba emphasized. “We don’t know if they will happen or not.”
“Did you ever stop to wonder why that shack was abandoned in the first place?“ All attempt at hiding the frustration in his voice vanished, as Matsumoto massaged his temples.
Aiba felt bad for Matsumoto, for having such little faith in the cosmic order of the universe that defined the fate of abandoned and under loved objects. “It was abandoned because someone has to carelessly throw something away in order for someone else to pick it up with love after them.”
When Ohno first saw the house beside the sea, he knew he’d found his retirement home. Never mind that he was a good thirty years away from retirement age. It was important to plan these things carefully and early.
It wasn’t much of a house. The roof had sagged in, there didn’t seem to be glass in the windows, nor even a door in the door frame. In fact it seemed, at least from the distance at which Ohno saw it while out at sea, the little house consisted of only four dilapidated walls, and a short pier.
Labeling it a house was probably too generous as it was hardly large enough to even be called a shack.
Whatever it’s proper definition, it called to him all the way across the water, asking for a good helping hand.
Fortunately for the little house Ohno had not one, but two.
He’d always wanted to build himself a house.
“It’s been waiting for me to fix it up.“ Ohno concluded his story to strangely bewildered and bemused realtor. Ohno didn’t think his story was strange enough to deserve that sort of expression. Surely people fell in love with houses all the time.
“I’m sorry,” said Matsumoto, “but in regards to this particular property, someone came in just a few days ago.”
“S-someone else is interested?” Ohno fell back in the chair, feeling faintly heartbroken. “Is there any way I could settle for a higher price…?”
“I‘m afraid not.” The smile fell from Matsumoto’s handsome face, and his eyebrows came together in a professionally serious but rather distracting ‘v’ as he explained, “Technically the property is still on the market, but our agency honors a ‘first come first serve’ sale policy. The policy is designed to prevent the wealthy from coming in and out bidding the little guy.”
“Oh.” Ohno knew he was supposed to feel ashamed for trying to undercut the other interested party, but Matsumoto and his little policy simply didn’t understand how badly he wanted the house at stake. “Have they signed yet?”
“Not yet, no. I’m doing my best to persuade the party that this property is not in his best interest, for all of the reasons I explained to you when you first walked in.” Realtor Matsumoto opened a folder and pushed a flyer with pictures of beautiful and grandiose seaside homes across the desk. “I would be happy to direct you towards our other, safer, beachfront properties.”
“No thanks.” Ohno shook his head, pushing the paper. “I‘m…I was only interested in the one…”
“The property itself is in a desirable location, just outside of Tokyo but away from the public beaches.” Concurred the realtor, with an exasperated edge, as he took the paper back to examine it himself. “We have similar lots in the same area. A magnificent villa with a view that would take your breath away, for example.”
“Thank you,” Ohno rose and shook Matsumoto’s hand, “ but I’m not really interested in that kind of magnificence.”
Aiba spread out the papers Matsumoto had given him, as well as his own personal accounting books on the kitchen table. He caught his pen as it threatened to roll off the edge. The table had been another of Aiba’s rescues, and unfortunately, he hadn’t gotten around to leveling the legs yet. But he sort of liked the lopsidedness; it gave the table character.
Taking out a clean sheet of paper, Aiba began the math. The beach house had a few more digits on its price tag than what Aiba had expected.
An hour later, and with his pen cap chewed flat, Aiba collapsed head first on his pages of sums. If his math was correct (and it probably wasn’t but it couldn‘t be too far off) it would take Aiba about three hundred years at his current level of income to pay off the little house, even without the added cost of interest on a loan.
Depressed with a sense that he‘d failed, Aiba tidied the papers, dreading the call he’d have to make in the morning to Matsumoto.
When the call came, Ohno dropped everything he was doing and caught the next train to the realtor’s office. Granted, Ohno wasn’t exactly doing much, if drinking tea while longingly listening to beach music didn’t count as doing something.
As he was let into Matsumoto’s office, Ohno hesitated. There was already someone sitting in front of the desk.
“Mister Ohno, please come in.” Matsumoto stood up, offering his hand.
Ohno shuffled forward, briefly shaking the realtor’s hand before realizing a second seat had been pulled up to the desk.
“Mister Ohno, this is Mister Aiba. Mister Aiba, Mister Ohno.”
The unknown man rose quickly and took Ohno’s hand in a warm, friendly shake. “Its nice to meet you,” said Aiba, smiling, but looking as puzzled as Ohno felt.
“Nice to meet you too.” Ohno mumbled, glancing back at the realtor, “Are you the owner…?”
“No,” Matsumoto said, gesturing for everyone to take a seat, “Mister Aiba is the other interested party. Which, as I explained to you a moment ago, Mister Aiba, makes Mister Ohno the other interested party.”
“Oh, I see.” Said Aiba, as an awkward air settled in the office.
Ohno felt a little confused and a little played. Matsumoto didn’t seem like the type who’d do something cruel and pointless like call him down just to see the beach house be signed away to someone else. Nor did Aiba, based on first impressions, seem like the type who’d want to gloat. But why else would Matsumoto have introduced them to each other?
“Before we begin, I want to remind both of you of the stupidity of purchasing this property with the intent of fixing up the preexisting structure into a long-term residence.” Matsumoto stressed his voice, severe, “It. Is. Not. Safe.”
“I know that already.” Aiba said, waving away the cryptic warning as if it were nothing more than a pesky mosquito. The recklessness made Ohno smile despite himself.
“Yeah.” Ohno added, realizing that Matsumoto was waiting for his confirmation as well.
“I didn’t think I could convince you otherwise, but I had to try.” With a wry smile, Matsumoto folded his hands and leaned forward on his desk, “Mr. Aiba, would you confide in Mr. Ohno as to why you haven’t signed on the house yet?”
“I don’t have the money.” Aiba said bluntly, a shadow of despair vexing his otherwise handsome features.
Instantly Ohno felt a choking surge of hope. He didn’t know much about the real estate business, or the policies at this particular company, but he did know that if this man couldn’t proceed with his claim, the house would have default back to the market eventually.
“But,” Aiba continued, with a note of desperation in his voice, and his fist balled in determination, “I don’t care if I have to work six jobs and sell a kidney. I must own this house.”
“Why must you own it?” Ohno asked, intrigued as to what made Aiba feel this house was worth selling an internal organ.
“I can’t explain it very well but it needs my help.” Aiba said, and their eyes met.
And Ohno saw a reflection of the same passionate, irrational love for the little house by the sea that Ohno recognized in himself.
“It does need help.” Ohno nodded with a small smile, “A lot of it.”
“You understand!” Gasped Aiba, his whole face brightening. “I figured you wanted to do something terrible and knock it down and build a public beach or something!”
“No, I want to rebuild it.” Ohno said, not really sure why he was sharing this with two strangers, “I’ve always wanted to build a house, and when I saw this one, I knew it was meant to be.”
“This is a house we’re talking about.” The realtor interrupted, half exasperated, half amused. “It wouldn’t know if you helped it or not.”
“Do you see what I’ve had to work with?” Aiba muttered in a low tone to Ohno, and Ohno chuckled.
“Do you want to hear my proposal, or don’t you?”
“I do. I do. I’m sorry.”
“It’s quite simple, actually. Although unorthodox.” Matsumoto leaned back, smirking with pride at his own ingenuity. “You buy the house together. Co-ownership.”
Ohno blinked, stunned. Next to him, he saw Aiba’s mouth open and close several times.
“You see,“ Matsumoto began to explain, “Mr. Aiba does have the first claim. However Mr. Ohno has the financial integrity to purchase the property.”
“But couldn’t I just wait until his claim or whatever expires?” Ohno asked, feeling a little guilty and selfish for asking. He couldn’t bring himself to glance at Aiba but could tell he had tensed.
“You could,” the realtor adjusted his eye-catching mauve tie and half glanced to Aiba, “but there is no guarantee that Mr. Aiba’s financial situation won’t improve before the time is up. I half believe he wasn’t lying when he said he’d sell a kidney.“
“And a lung. Anything I have two of.”
“You can’t seriously mean that.”
“Do they do arm transplants? Do you think I could sell my left one?”
Ohno tuned out the banter, digesting the information silently for a moment. He’d never considered sharing the beach house before. During his fantasies of fixing up and relaxing in it, he’d always been alone. He wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted to invest in anything less. “So we’d be roommates or something?”
“Well, there are numerous ways to make arrangements, you could be roommates and live together full time. Another option is to do something similar to a time share. Treat the beach house as a vacation house and schedule which of you will stay there during which weeks of the year. That would require maintaining alternative places of residence, however.”
“Even if we did that, I want to pay for half of the mortgage. I don’t want to take advantage of Mr. Ohno.”
“I don’t want to be taken advantage of either.” Ohno said, a little uneasy, although he was relieved to learn that Aiba seemed to be of good enough character to make such an offer. “But can I think about it for a little while?”
“Certainly,” Matsumoto nodded, “even if you both agreed on the spot, I wouldn’t have taken your signatures today. Decisions made on impulse don‘t often turn out well, and you can‘t exactly return a house you know. If you two do decide to go through with this, we’ll schedule a tour of the property before scheduling a signing.”
“See, I knew there was a good realtor in you somewhere.” Aiba laughed, reaching forward to shake Matsumoto’s hand again.
“That has nothing to do with this.” Matsumoto said gruffly, but smiling just a little at the compliment, “I know how crazy you two are over that house.”
“Do you think we’re crazy?” Aiba paused, smiling at Ohno.
“You’ve seen that house right?” Ohno grinned. “How could we not be?”
The realtor had made them exchange phone numbers, for which Aiba was glad. He waited one whole long day before inviting Ohno out for dinner, drinks and ‘get to know each other time.’
He was delighted when Ohno accepted. Ohno, though quiet and somewhat bland based on first impressions seemed to be very nice, and simply his interest in the same sad beach house was enough to Aiba to prove he had a character in good standing.
He picked Ohno up at the station at seven, and he laughed as he caught Ohno alternatively staring at his hubcaps and rubbing his eyes.
“You aren’t seeing things. They’re all different. I like to save old things and give them new homes.”
Ohno grinned and hopped in the van. “I like them.”
They talked.
At first it was a little one-sided, where Aiba talked and Ohno listened. Or seemed to be listening at least.
But the longer they drove the more often Ohno replied with full (or at least half) sentences as opposed to the previous noncommittal grunts of agreement.
Aiba learned Ohno worked for his father, at his father’s company. It seemed like he didn’t do much exactly, except for a bit of graphic design when graphics needed designing.
Aiba surmised that Ohno’s family, and his father’s company must have been well off if Ohno didn’t expect the purchase of a beach front property to be a financial burden. Yet Ohno himself didn’t suit the snotty rich boy stereotype.
Over dinner Aiba learned that Ohno liked his curry spicy, and over drinks Aiba discovered that despite Ohno’s small frame the man could down shots like nobody‘s business. And also, that Ohno’s deepest desire since he was little was to be a baker.
His second deepest desire was to one day build a house with his own hands.
“Its the ultimate sign of existence, am I right?” Ohno said, just a little inebriated, as he swirled the alcohol in his glass slowly. “For tens of thousands of years-ever since mankind became mankind right? Every man built his own shelter, right? But no one does that anymore, right? No one cares. I think it would be awesome, right? Don’t you? To live in a place you put all of your heart into right?”
Ohno had yet to say so many words successively, and Aiba would have been more surprised if he had been less drunk. But he agreed vehemently, “Anytime a person puts all of their heart into anything, it’s awesome.”
“You’re awesome too, Aiba-chan.” Ohno laughed.
“No, you’re awesome, Oh-chan.” Aiba laughed too.
Ohno woke up with a minor throbbing behind his temples. He found himself under an overly patched, overly warm quilt on a pleasantly squishy couch. The couch, Ohno realized, once he stood up and began folding the blanket, consisted of cushions of mismatched sizes and upholsteries that somehow managed to come together in a bizarrely attractive, and comfortable piece of furniture.
As Ohno looked around the small living room, he found the same applied to everything from the tv stand to the coffee table to the window curtains. Everything was mismatched, yet Aiba had somehow fixed it up so it all came together.
Or maybe, Ohno thought, liking the idea, it didn’t come together, but simply went together.
“Good morning!” Aiba hailed, entering the room with a smile so bright there didn’t seem to be a difference in lighting when Aiba pulled the curtains open to let in the morning sun. “Want to stay for breakfast?”
Ohno swallowed the morning taste in his mouth, and nodded. It felt awkward to accept breakfast, but then even though he’d only met Aiba twice, he could tell Aiba would rather have him stay for breakfast than turn the invitation down out of politeness.
“Have a seat at the table then. I’ll make some coffee and get started cooking.”
Obediently, Ohno took a seat, and rested his arms on the table. The table tipped violently, and Ohno feared he’d broken it for a brief moment, before realizing the legs were uneven. And mismatched. He sort of liked the shape of the pale blue one that was causing the tilt. The paint needed to be stripped off Ohno noticed, and then sanded before being repainted. But it was still charming in its peeling state.
“Mind if I put on some music?” Aiba asked, throwing two small fish into a frying pan.
Ohno paused in playing with the tipsy table. “Sure, it’s your place after all.”
Aiba chuckled, replied, and turned on the radio, but Ohno did hear it. His own words distracted him.
Would it be so terrible to share a place with Aiba? Granted this wasn’t just any old place but the retirement home of his dreams. They were hardly more than strangers.
He smiled as Aiba spilled a bit of soup as he carried it to the table, wiping up the trail with his sock.
“I’ll clean it up properly later.” Aiba laughed, toeing off the soup-soaked sock before returning to the kitchen for two bowls of rice and the fish.
“Whoa, it looks so awesome.”
“Thanks, although I can’t guarantee the taste. The miso is instant, and the rice was left over from yesterday…”
Ohno took a bite of everything, chewed thoughtfully, and replied, “It tastes good to me.”
“Thanks. I wasn’t sure if you were a Japanese or Western breakfast sort of guy.” Aiba began to eat too.
“I like both.” Ohno set down his bowl of miso. “I like most food actually.”
“That’s sort of amazing.”
Ohno chuckled, shaking his head. He didn’t handle compliments well.
They ate while listening to the music Aiba had turned on. Ohno didn’t recognize the song but he didn’t dislike the easy rock style the station seemed to prefer.
Ohno picked up his bowl of rice but suddenly set it down again. Didn’t dislike. The thought returned with new meaning. He looked up, swallowed hard, and exhaled. The impulse didn’t leave him, and he frowned.
“Something wrong?” Aiba asked, a little concerned.
“Let’s do it.” Ohno said, feeling wild and reckless and impulsive.
“Do what?” Aiba blinked.
“Buy the house.” Ohno said firmly.
“Oh.” Aiba sat up straighter. “Are you sure, I mean we haven’t talked about it at all, and we don’t really know each other.”
“We don’t.” Ohno nodded. “But I don’t dislike you, and I don’t dislike the idea of sharing, and I think we’ll be able to find a way to manage.”
“I don’t either.” Aiba said, running a hand though his hair as he thought it over. “I mean I don’t dislike you or anything either. In fact I quite like you. But-“
“If we think about it too much we’ll just tell ourselves no.” Ohno rationalized, “So let’s just do it.”
Aiba slowly grinned, his eyes lighting up with nothing less than pure happiness. “Alright. Let’s do it.”
I've always considered Ohba one of the most difficult pairings to write. Their relationship is difficult to put into words, and even more difficult to express in action. Also, it seems when I tell myself to write anything other than Ohmiya, the Ohmiya plot bunnies in my brain have another litter of baby plot bunnies. Hmmm. Anyway, Ohba.
Title: A house called Happiness
Chapter: 1/?
Pair: Ohba friendship! :D
Rating: G
Genre: Friendship
Summary: Aiba falls in love with a broken down, lost cause of a house by the sea. Ohno happens to fall in love with the same house. Realtor Matsumoto tries to convince them otherwise.
Note: 4th in the All Pairs Challenge, Ohba for eufry, a friend I have known and loved for countless years now, and will never tire of talking to, even if we haven't had a chance in a very long time. And just so you know, the working title for this was 'Ohba on a Cliff by the Sea.'
Note 2: Extreme artistic license taken with the realtor business: highly inaccurate
Original Prompt: Friendship! Ohno and Aiba decide to spend an entire holiday turning a very old shack by the sea into an actual home in which they can stay at and go fishing or fiddle with seaweeds. :D
Beside the sea there was a house.
It was small, and not even much of a house.
But it tried, and that was the important thing.
It tried so hard it was impossible for Aiba not to notice as he rode by.
It called to him.
Just like the rusty broken bikes he bought, because he could tell they were lonely. Like his collection of misfit shoes. Just because they were missing their other halves, didn’t mean they should be loved less.
“It was love at first sight.” Aiba concluded his story to the realtor, a man in a sharp suit with an even sharper violet tie.
“That’s all very well and good.” Realtor Matsumoto said, with a bit of reservation in his voice. “However, despite the fact that this land with the old shack is indeed for sale, we’re talking about beach front property.”
“So it’s going to be expensive, right?” Aiba sagged back in the chair.
“Yes, not to mention renovating or even rebuilding a house on this property might not even be advisable.”
“Why not?” Sitting up straighter, Aiba said, indignantly, “Its tried so hard to hang in there up until now, it only makes sense to help it back on its feet. Or foundations. You know what I mean.”
“Yes, but,” Matsumoto pressed, a bit of a losing-patience edge in his voice, “please consider the geological implications of owning a home so close to the water front. The front door is literally twenty steps from the water at high tide. In the event of a storm surge, or a typhoon or, heaven forbid, a tsunami, the whole property will be deep under water.”
“I don’t understand why you’re trying to convince me not to buy property from you.” Aiba scoffed.
“Because I can’t just let a customer unknowingly purchase a house in the line of so many potential natural disasters.”
“Potential.” Aiba emphasized. “We don’t know if they will happen or not.”
“Did you ever stop to wonder why that shack was abandoned in the first place?“ All attempt at hiding the frustration in his voice vanished, as Matsumoto massaged his temples.
Aiba felt bad for Matsumoto, for having such little faith in the cosmic order of the universe that defined the fate of abandoned and under loved objects. “It was abandoned because someone has to carelessly throw something away in order for someone else to pick it up with love after them.”
When Ohno first saw the house beside the sea, he knew he’d found his retirement home. Never mind that he was a good thirty years away from retirement age. It was important to plan these things carefully and early.
It wasn’t much of a house. The roof had sagged in, there didn’t seem to be glass in the windows, nor even a door in the door frame. In fact it seemed, at least from the distance at which Ohno saw it while out at sea, the little house consisted of only four dilapidated walls, and a short pier.
Labeling it a house was probably too generous as it was hardly large enough to even be called a shack.
Whatever it’s proper definition, it called to him all the way across the water, asking for a good helping hand.
Fortunately for the little house Ohno had not one, but two.
He’d always wanted to build himself a house.
“It’s been waiting for me to fix it up.“ Ohno concluded his story to strangely bewildered and bemused realtor. Ohno didn’t think his story was strange enough to deserve that sort of expression. Surely people fell in love with houses all the time.
“I’m sorry,” said Matsumoto, “but in regards to this particular property, someone came in just a few days ago.”
“S-someone else is interested?” Ohno fell back in the chair, feeling faintly heartbroken. “Is there any way I could settle for a higher price…?”
“I‘m afraid not.” The smile fell from Matsumoto’s handsome face, and his eyebrows came together in a professionally serious but rather distracting ‘v’ as he explained, “Technically the property is still on the market, but our agency honors a ‘first come first serve’ sale policy. The policy is designed to prevent the wealthy from coming in and out bidding the little guy.”
“Oh.” Ohno knew he was supposed to feel ashamed for trying to undercut the other interested party, but Matsumoto and his little policy simply didn’t understand how badly he wanted the house at stake. “Have they signed yet?”
“Not yet, no. I’m doing my best to persuade the party that this property is not in his best interest, for all of the reasons I explained to you when you first walked in.” Realtor Matsumoto opened a folder and pushed a flyer with pictures of beautiful and grandiose seaside homes across the desk. “I would be happy to direct you towards our other, safer, beachfront properties.”
“No thanks.” Ohno shook his head, pushing the paper. “I‘m…I was only interested in the one…”
“The property itself is in a desirable location, just outside of Tokyo but away from the public beaches.” Concurred the realtor, with an exasperated edge, as he took the paper back to examine it himself. “We have similar lots in the same area. A magnificent villa with a view that would take your breath away, for example.”
“Thank you,” Ohno rose and shook Matsumoto’s hand, “ but I’m not really interested in that kind of magnificence.”
Aiba spread out the papers Matsumoto had given him, as well as his own personal accounting books on the kitchen table. He caught his pen as it threatened to roll off the edge. The table had been another of Aiba’s rescues, and unfortunately, he hadn’t gotten around to leveling the legs yet. But he sort of liked the lopsidedness; it gave the table character.
Taking out a clean sheet of paper, Aiba began the math. The beach house had a few more digits on its price tag than what Aiba had expected.
An hour later, and with his pen cap chewed flat, Aiba collapsed head first on his pages of sums. If his math was correct (and it probably wasn’t but it couldn‘t be too far off) it would take Aiba about three hundred years at his current level of income to pay off the little house, even without the added cost of interest on a loan.
Depressed with a sense that he‘d failed, Aiba tidied the papers, dreading the call he’d have to make in the morning to Matsumoto.
When the call came, Ohno dropped everything he was doing and caught the next train to the realtor’s office. Granted, Ohno wasn’t exactly doing much, if drinking tea while longingly listening to beach music didn’t count as doing something.
As he was let into Matsumoto’s office, Ohno hesitated. There was already someone sitting in front of the desk.
“Mister Ohno, please come in.” Matsumoto stood up, offering his hand.
Ohno shuffled forward, briefly shaking the realtor’s hand before realizing a second seat had been pulled up to the desk.
“Mister Ohno, this is Mister Aiba. Mister Aiba, Mister Ohno.”
The unknown man rose quickly and took Ohno’s hand in a warm, friendly shake. “Its nice to meet you,” said Aiba, smiling, but looking as puzzled as Ohno felt.
“Nice to meet you too.” Ohno mumbled, glancing back at the realtor, “Are you the owner…?”
“No,” Matsumoto said, gesturing for everyone to take a seat, “Mister Aiba is the other interested party. Which, as I explained to you a moment ago, Mister Aiba, makes Mister Ohno the other interested party.”
“Oh, I see.” Said Aiba, as an awkward air settled in the office.
Ohno felt a little confused and a little played. Matsumoto didn’t seem like the type who’d do something cruel and pointless like call him down just to see the beach house be signed away to someone else. Nor did Aiba, based on first impressions, seem like the type who’d want to gloat. But why else would Matsumoto have introduced them to each other?
“Before we begin, I want to remind both of you of the stupidity of purchasing this property with the intent of fixing up the preexisting structure into a long-term residence.” Matsumoto stressed his voice, severe, “It. Is. Not. Safe.”
“I know that already.” Aiba said, waving away the cryptic warning as if it were nothing more than a pesky mosquito. The recklessness made Ohno smile despite himself.
“Yeah.” Ohno added, realizing that Matsumoto was waiting for his confirmation as well.
“I didn’t think I could convince you otherwise, but I had to try.” With a wry smile, Matsumoto folded his hands and leaned forward on his desk, “Mr. Aiba, would you confide in Mr. Ohno as to why you haven’t signed on the house yet?”
“I don’t have the money.” Aiba said bluntly, a shadow of despair vexing his otherwise handsome features.
Instantly Ohno felt a choking surge of hope. He didn’t know much about the real estate business, or the policies at this particular company, but he did know that if this man couldn’t proceed with his claim, the house would have default back to the market eventually.
“But,” Aiba continued, with a note of desperation in his voice, and his fist balled in determination, “I don’t care if I have to work six jobs and sell a kidney. I must own this house.”
“Why must you own it?” Ohno asked, intrigued as to what made Aiba feel this house was worth selling an internal organ.
“I can’t explain it very well but it needs my help.” Aiba said, and their eyes met.
And Ohno saw a reflection of the same passionate, irrational love for the little house by the sea that Ohno recognized in himself.
“It does need help.” Ohno nodded with a small smile, “A lot of it.”
“You understand!” Gasped Aiba, his whole face brightening. “I figured you wanted to do something terrible and knock it down and build a public beach or something!”
“No, I want to rebuild it.” Ohno said, not really sure why he was sharing this with two strangers, “I’ve always wanted to build a house, and when I saw this one, I knew it was meant to be.”
“This is a house we’re talking about.” The realtor interrupted, half exasperated, half amused. “It wouldn’t know if you helped it or not.”
“Do you see what I’ve had to work with?” Aiba muttered in a low tone to Ohno, and Ohno chuckled.
“Do you want to hear my proposal, or don’t you?”
“I do. I do. I’m sorry.”
“It’s quite simple, actually. Although unorthodox.” Matsumoto leaned back, smirking with pride at his own ingenuity. “You buy the house together. Co-ownership.”
Ohno blinked, stunned. Next to him, he saw Aiba’s mouth open and close several times.
“You see,“ Matsumoto began to explain, “Mr. Aiba does have the first claim. However Mr. Ohno has the financial integrity to purchase the property.”
“But couldn’t I just wait until his claim or whatever expires?” Ohno asked, feeling a little guilty and selfish for asking. He couldn’t bring himself to glance at Aiba but could tell he had tensed.
“You could,” the realtor adjusted his eye-catching mauve tie and half glanced to Aiba, “but there is no guarantee that Mr. Aiba’s financial situation won’t improve before the time is up. I half believe he wasn’t lying when he said he’d sell a kidney.“
“And a lung. Anything I have two of.”
“You can’t seriously mean that.”
“Do they do arm transplants? Do you think I could sell my left one?”
Ohno tuned out the banter, digesting the information silently for a moment. He’d never considered sharing the beach house before. During his fantasies of fixing up and relaxing in it, he’d always been alone. He wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted to invest in anything less. “So we’d be roommates or something?”
“Well, there are numerous ways to make arrangements, you could be roommates and live together full time. Another option is to do something similar to a time share. Treat the beach house as a vacation house and schedule which of you will stay there during which weeks of the year. That would require maintaining alternative places of residence, however.”
“Even if we did that, I want to pay for half of the mortgage. I don’t want to take advantage of Mr. Ohno.”
“I don’t want to be taken advantage of either.” Ohno said, a little uneasy, although he was relieved to learn that Aiba seemed to be of good enough character to make such an offer. “But can I think about it for a little while?”
“Certainly,” Matsumoto nodded, “even if you both agreed on the spot, I wouldn’t have taken your signatures today. Decisions made on impulse don‘t often turn out well, and you can‘t exactly return a house you know. If you two do decide to go through with this, we’ll schedule a tour of the property before scheduling a signing.”
“See, I knew there was a good realtor in you somewhere.” Aiba laughed, reaching forward to shake Matsumoto’s hand again.
“That has nothing to do with this.” Matsumoto said gruffly, but smiling just a little at the compliment, “I know how crazy you two are over that house.”
“Do you think we’re crazy?” Aiba paused, smiling at Ohno.
“You’ve seen that house right?” Ohno grinned. “How could we not be?”
The realtor had made them exchange phone numbers, for which Aiba was glad. He waited one whole long day before inviting Ohno out for dinner, drinks and ‘get to know each other time.’
He was delighted when Ohno accepted. Ohno, though quiet and somewhat bland based on first impressions seemed to be very nice, and simply his interest in the same sad beach house was enough to Aiba to prove he had a character in good standing.
He picked Ohno up at the station at seven, and he laughed as he caught Ohno alternatively staring at his hubcaps and rubbing his eyes.
“You aren’t seeing things. They’re all different. I like to save old things and give them new homes.”
Ohno grinned and hopped in the van. “I like them.”
They talked.
At first it was a little one-sided, where Aiba talked and Ohno listened. Or seemed to be listening at least.
But the longer they drove the more often Ohno replied with full (or at least half) sentences as opposed to the previous noncommittal grunts of agreement.
Aiba learned Ohno worked for his father, at his father’s company. It seemed like he didn’t do much exactly, except for a bit of graphic design when graphics needed designing.
Aiba surmised that Ohno’s family, and his father’s company must have been well off if Ohno didn’t expect the purchase of a beach front property to be a financial burden. Yet Ohno himself didn’t suit the snotty rich boy stereotype.
Over dinner Aiba learned that Ohno liked his curry spicy, and over drinks Aiba discovered that despite Ohno’s small frame the man could down shots like nobody‘s business. And also, that Ohno’s deepest desire since he was little was to be a baker.
His second deepest desire was to one day build a house with his own hands.
“Its the ultimate sign of existence, am I right?” Ohno said, just a little inebriated, as he swirled the alcohol in his glass slowly. “For tens of thousands of years-ever since mankind became mankind right? Every man built his own shelter, right? But no one does that anymore, right? No one cares. I think it would be awesome, right? Don’t you? To live in a place you put all of your heart into right?”
Ohno had yet to say so many words successively, and Aiba would have been more surprised if he had been less drunk. But he agreed vehemently, “Anytime a person puts all of their heart into anything, it’s awesome.”
“You’re awesome too, Aiba-chan.” Ohno laughed.
“No, you’re awesome, Oh-chan.” Aiba laughed too.
Ohno woke up with a minor throbbing behind his temples. He found himself under an overly patched, overly warm quilt on a pleasantly squishy couch. The couch, Ohno realized, once he stood up and began folding the blanket, consisted of cushions of mismatched sizes and upholsteries that somehow managed to come together in a bizarrely attractive, and comfortable piece of furniture.
As Ohno looked around the small living room, he found the same applied to everything from the tv stand to the coffee table to the window curtains. Everything was mismatched, yet Aiba had somehow fixed it up so it all came together.
Or maybe, Ohno thought, liking the idea, it didn’t come together, but simply went together.
“Good morning!” Aiba hailed, entering the room with a smile so bright there didn’t seem to be a difference in lighting when Aiba pulled the curtains open to let in the morning sun. “Want to stay for breakfast?”
Ohno swallowed the morning taste in his mouth, and nodded. It felt awkward to accept breakfast, but then even though he’d only met Aiba twice, he could tell Aiba would rather have him stay for breakfast than turn the invitation down out of politeness.
“Have a seat at the table then. I’ll make some coffee and get started cooking.”
Obediently, Ohno took a seat, and rested his arms on the table. The table tipped violently, and Ohno feared he’d broken it for a brief moment, before realizing the legs were uneven. And mismatched. He sort of liked the shape of the pale blue one that was causing the tilt. The paint needed to be stripped off Ohno noticed, and then sanded before being repainted. But it was still charming in its peeling state.
“Mind if I put on some music?” Aiba asked, throwing two small fish into a frying pan.
Ohno paused in playing with the tipsy table. “Sure, it’s your place after all.”
Aiba chuckled, replied, and turned on the radio, but Ohno did hear it. His own words distracted him.
Would it be so terrible to share a place with Aiba? Granted this wasn’t just any old place but the retirement home of his dreams. They were hardly more than strangers.
He smiled as Aiba spilled a bit of soup as he carried it to the table, wiping up the trail with his sock.
“I’ll clean it up properly later.” Aiba laughed, toeing off the soup-soaked sock before returning to the kitchen for two bowls of rice and the fish.
“Whoa, it looks so awesome.”
“Thanks, although I can’t guarantee the taste. The miso is instant, and the rice was left over from yesterday…”
Ohno took a bite of everything, chewed thoughtfully, and replied, “It tastes good to me.”
“Thanks. I wasn’t sure if you were a Japanese or Western breakfast sort of guy.” Aiba began to eat too.
“I like both.” Ohno set down his bowl of miso. “I like most food actually.”
“That’s sort of amazing.”
Ohno chuckled, shaking his head. He didn’t handle compliments well.
They ate while listening to the music Aiba had turned on. Ohno didn’t recognize the song but he didn’t dislike the easy rock style the station seemed to prefer.
Ohno picked up his bowl of rice but suddenly set it down again. Didn’t dislike. The thought returned with new meaning. He looked up, swallowed hard, and exhaled. The impulse didn’t leave him, and he frowned.
“Something wrong?” Aiba asked, a little concerned.
“Let’s do it.” Ohno said, feeling wild and reckless and impulsive.
“Do what?” Aiba blinked.
“Buy the house.” Ohno said firmly.
“Oh.” Aiba sat up straighter. “Are you sure, I mean we haven’t talked about it at all, and we don’t really know each other.”
“We don’t.” Ohno nodded. “But I don’t dislike you, and I don’t dislike the idea of sharing, and I think we’ll be able to find a way to manage.”
“I don’t either.” Aiba said, running a hand though his hair as he thought it over. “I mean I don’t dislike you or anything either. In fact I quite like you. But-“
“If we think about it too much we’ll just tell ourselves no.” Ohno rationalized, “So let’s just do it.”
Aiba slowly grinned, his eyes lighting up with nothing less than pure happiness. “Alright. Let’s do it.”