[fic: one-shot] Your Awesomeness Knows No Bounds
Title: Your Awesomeness Knows No Bounds
Type: One-shot
Word count: 4,893
Rating: PG
Pairing: Shige/Tegoshi (NEWS)
Summary: Who would’ve thought that the push Shige desperately needs to finish his novel would come from the most unlikely source: his old friend, the idol Tegoshi Yuya? AU. Written for luna_truths in this year's newsficcon, first posted here. Thanks to my wonderful beta sanjihan.
Note: umeboshi = pickled plums, onigiri = rice balls wrapped in dried seaweed.
Shige’s days bleed into one another. When he goes to sleep, it feels like it’s only a moment before he has to wake up again. He showers, puts on his clothes, chomps on bland instant ramen for breakfast, rides the packed subway to the office, slogs through endless mountains of work, eats lunch at his desk instead of eating out.
Sometimes he leaves work on time, but most often he spends a few extra hours in overtime. By the time he clocks out of the office, he’s too tired to go anywhere. On the way back he stops at a convenience store to grab a bento, arrives home and takes a shower, has dinner in front of the TV before bed, then the alarm clock wakes him up in no time at all.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
On weekends, after sleeping in until late morning, he sits at a small desk near the window and stares at his laptop. A document is open, sometimes two or three, or even more. One of them may only contain a few paragraphs, disjointed bits of dialogue, while another boasts pages and pages filled with words. Yet another may be absolutely empty.
Hours go by as he sits in front of the laptop, but only a fraction of them are spent writing. Mostly he just stares at blank spaces, wondering why he's even trying in the first place.
None of the documents have ever been completed.
When his co-workers manage to persuade him to go out for a drink, it's not because he really wants to. They're just really insistent.
"Come on, Kato, you never hang out with us!" says Tanaka, who sits across from him at the office. "You need to let your hair down once in a while."
Shige is itching to strike back by saying that Tanaka is in desperate need of a haircut, but he just smiles weakly instead.
A total of five guys and three girls join in at the bar not far from their office building after work hours. Their table is lively with conversation and laughter, but Shige mostly remains quiet, sipping his drink.
“Remember the time we went to that club in Roppongi and Sawamura got really smashed?” Tanaka says.
The aforementioned Sawamura covers her face with her hands and says, “Oh my God, don’t tell me. I hardly remember a thing from that night... I didn’t do anything embarrassing, did I?”
The others explode in mirth, shouting “How can you not remember?” and “I’m sure that lucky dude won’t forget what happened!”
“What? What dude?” Sawamura squeaks. Everybody keeps cackling and teasing her, so she turns to Shige, who hasn’t said anything. “Did you know about this, Kato-kun?”
Suddenly self-aware, Shige shakes his head. “No.”
“You’re barking up the wrong tree,” another guy named Ueda says. “Kato didn’t come with us that night.”
Shige can almost see the thought bubbles above his co-workers’ heads saying: Not that he ever does - the guy who’s incapable of having fun.
“I think he has a secret part-time job or something,” Tanaka says.
While Sawamura continues to press the others to reveal what happened in the club, Shige asks Ueda, “When was this anyway?”
“Last month. It was the second Friday, I think.”
Shige’s mind traces back to the time his co-workers invited him to go to the posh new club in Roppongi. The second Friday of last month... that would mean July 11.
His birthday.
He remembers feeling particularly miserable that day, because his birthdays always remind him how time continues to go by while he stays stagnant, never fulfilling his aspirations. But his co-workers weren’t aware of that, shrugging off his refusal to their invitation as nothing out of the norm for him.
He looks around the table now, at the smiling faces flushed with alcohol. Nobody here knows his birthday, nobody ever sees him as someone other than an overworked, reclusive salaryman.
Nobody here really knows him.
“Sorry guys,” he mumbles, “I think I’ll call it a night.”
Most of them don’t even hear him amid the loud music at the bar. He slips out of his chair as Tanaka calls out, “Kato, come on! Where are you going, man?”
Shige doesn’t respond and simply walks away. He is unsure of where to go, not really keen on going back to his apartment and seeing the laptop on the desk with the unfinished stories in it. So he takes a detour and strolls around randomly, barely alert to his surroundings.
He realizes with a touch of irony that this is precisely what he has been doing for the past few years: wandering aimlessly, aware of his goal but not taking the actual steps to achieve it. He wonders if it’s caused by his chronic lack of confidence. Or maybe he’s just not brave enough to chuck comfort and security that a conventional life path has given him, not bold enough to take the necessary risks in order to pursue his dreams.
He loses track of time as he lets his feet take him wherever they want to go. The streets and buildings no longer seem familiar; he has strayed several blocks from the district where his office and the bar are located. He’s about to turn a corner and further lose himself in the city when a voice calls out from behind him, “Shige?”
He turns around to see a lanky, golden-haired man standing at the door of a restaurant, wearing an apron on top of his t-shirt and jeans. It takes a few seconds for Shige to connect the face and the name, but then the man smiles and Shige would recognize that smile anywhere.
“Koyama,” he says.
“It’s been a while, Shige!” Koyama walks over and gives him a hug. “Who would’ve thought I’d see you here?”
The hug is unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome. Koyama has always been forthright with his affections, and despite not having seen each other frequently for the last several years, they had been quite close as teenagers.
Pulling back, Koyama keeps his hands on Shige’s shoulders, looking him up and down with the euphoric grin still on his face. “Did you just get off work? Looking like a real businessman, huh?”
Shige waves a hand in front of his face. “Nah, I’m only a regular employee. I was just, um, walking around.”
Staring up at Koyama’s face, he feels like playing one of those games where you have to find the differences between two pictures. This Koyama and the one Shige remembers are not unlike, with only subtle changes. He had grown even taller over the years. There are faint lines near his eyes, and his face now has a sort of calm contentment to it, but still retains its jovial air.
“So you’re free tonight? Have you had something to eat? Come in and have a bite!”
Shige now remembers Koyama mentioning taking over his family’s ramen shop a few years back. He’d had no idea the place was within walking distance from his office.
“Actually I’m-” Shige begins, but he can’t find a proper excuse. I was just strolling around and taking pity on myself as per normal, and I don’t really feel like being with people right now. That doesn’t seem like it’ll sound so good out loud.
Koyama doesn’t seem to notice the unfinished utterance; he’s so happy his smile is practically splitting his face. “This is such a great coincidence. I’m treating special people today and having you here is like icing on the cake. Come on!”
He links his arm through Shige’s and drags him inside the restaurant, Shige helpless to stop him. The ramen shop isn’t too crowded at that time of night, but Koyama goes straight to a door at the back which leads to a small corridor.
“Private rooms,” he tells Shige. “Had to use one because of our VIP guest.”
Shige wonders if Koyama is referring to him sarcastically or something, but his friend sounds serious. Koyama opens the second door from the right and, pulling Shige in behind him, announces to the room, “Hey guys, you won’t believe who just showed up!”
Two men are sitting facing each other at a table laden with food, and both look up as Koyama and Shige walk in. The first is normal-looking, with brown hair and a friendly, round-cheeked face, but the other is striking in his appearance. Thinner than his companion, the second guy’s hair is dyed platinum blond, a contrast with his tanned skin. His earrings glint in the light, but the smile in his face is brighter as he cries out, “Shige! Is that really you?”
Their association with Koyama makes it slightly easier for Shige to place them. The brown-haired one is Masuda - Massu, as everybody used to call him. That means the blond is their other friend Tegoshi, but Shige is having trouble reconciling the image of the tiny boy in his head with the flashy young man now sitting in front of him.
Massu shakes Shige hand and pats his shoulder, saying, “Good to see you, man.” When he goes to the other side of the table, Tegoshi gives him a one-armed hug and pulls him to sit down with them. Koyama excuses himself (“Gotta make sure business is running well. Don’t talk about me behind my back!”) and leaves the three of them together.
“I totally didn’t expect to see you here, Shige,” Massu says. “How long has it been since we’ve seen each other?”
“Well... years, I think,” Shige replies.
He and Massu used to attend the same cram school, though in different levels. Koyama was Shige’s friend from the same neighborhood. Tegoshi was a newcomer at Shige’s junior high, and his parents just happened to be acquaintances of Massu’s. Thus their little group was born, a ragtag bunch of kids who stuck together until the inevitable occurred: they grew up and drifted apart.
“You haven’t changed much,” Shige tells Massu. Like Koyama, he can still see in Massu his younger version, now slightly hardened around the edges.
“I bet you think Tegoshi has, though,” Massu says.
Tegoshi laughs. “Everybody says that.”
Shige turns to look at Tegoshi. “It’s true,” he says, “you have changed. But you look oddly familiar at the same time...”
“You’ve probably seen him on TV,” Massu says.
“That’s right!” Shige slaps a hand on his thigh. He doesn’t pay much attention to showbiz, but now he recalls seeing the occasional glimpse of a certain celebrity in the media and feeling like he had seen that face somewhere. “So you’re an idol now?”
“Not an ordinary idol,” Massu jumps in, turning his voice exaggeratingly into that of a presenter, “he’s the singing sensation, TV personality, up-and-coming actor and CM prince, our very own Tegoshi Yuya!”
Tegoshi puts on an outwardly modest smile of someone who inwardly thinks himself worthy of all the praise heaped on him. Shige still remembers this aspect of him, at least. In another person it might seem like arrogance, but Tegoshi simply has that sense of overpowering self-assurance which, now that Shige considers it, makes him a perfect idol.
“Enough about me. What about you, Shige?” Tegoshi grins, patting Shige’s arm. “Wearing such a nice suit... been climbing the corporate ladder, I see.”
Shige shakes his head, having no intention to boast about an occupation he’s not proud of. “I work at an investment company. Just another employee, nothing special.”
“Well, you’ve always been the smart one,” Massu says. “And I’m the athletic one.”
“Wait, I thought I was the athletic one,” Tegoshi says. “I was on the soccer team.”
“You’re the ambitious one. You also wanted to join the basketball team and the choir, didn’t you?”
Tegoshi considers it, and then nods. “I guess you can say I’m ambitious. What does that make Kei-chan, then?”
“He’s the mother,” Shige says, remembering how thoughtful Koyama had been to all of them, being the eldest.
Tegoshi and Massu burst out laughing at the remark just as Koyama re-enters. “What did I miss?” he asks.
“You’re the mother!” the others say in unison and proceed to laugh at Koyama’s bewildered expression.
It’s incredible how easy it feels for Shige to talk to these guys, to slip into old manners and forget how unhappy he had felt earlier in the night. In a way it’s like returning to a time when life was easier, when the only thing he had to worry about was his mother getting angry at him for coming home too late for dinner. Koyama keeps the food and drinks coming, and they fuel the conversation to continue for hours.
“So now you’re back to school, but as a teacher,” Shige says to Massu.
“That’s right,” Massu replies. “There’s not a dull moment teaching physical education. It keeps you young at heart too, working with children.”
“And dressing like one too?” Koyama says teasingly.
Massu shrugs. “It’s summer. Shorts are airy.”
“I’ll drink to that!” Tegoshi raises his glass. “To shorts and summer!”
They all laugh and down their drinks. Putting his glass down with a thump, Koyama sighs. “Man, it’s been a while since we all got together like this. How come we don’t meet more often?”
Tegoshi puts up his hands in a gesture of defeat. “I know, I know - too busy entertaining people. Guilty as charged. But I came today, didn’t I?”
“Shige never comes to school reunions,” Massu says.
“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Koyama playfully punches Shige’s arm. “Too cool to hang out with your old buddies?”
Shige squirms uncomfortably. Between putting extra hours at work and feeling conflicted about his career path, he hasn’t spared a thought about socializing with former adolescent friends. Scratch that - he practically doesn’t socialize, period.
“Sorry about that,” he murmurs. “I guess I’m a bad friend.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it, man,” Koyama says. “What matters is you’re here now.”
“Wait,” Massu interjects, “isn’t Shige’s birthday not far from mine? In July?”
“Yes! Only a week apart, right?” Tegoshi says. “It’s a month late, but, well, happy birthday!”
Already half-drunk, each of them stands up to give Shige a hug, and then they make another toast to his health.
“Did you have a party? You should have a party,” Koyama says.
“Why don’t we have a party after this? Party at Shige’s place!” Tegoshi suggests.
Everyone seems to consider this an excellent idea, but Shige thinks they’re probably just fooling around. The four of them leave the ramen shop, Koyama trusting his staff to close up, and then they stop at a 24-hour convenience store to buy refreshments before taking the subway. Not until they enter the lobby of his building does Shige realize his friends are serious about the party.
“There’s really nothing in my apartment, guys,” he says as they ride the elevator to his floor.
“It’s okay, we got provisions,” Massu replies, lifting the grocery bag filled with snacks.
“I’m not really the partying kind. I’ve never held any parties here,” Shige says as he fumbles with his keys in front of his door.
“We’re bringing the party to you,” Koyama assures him.
The guys seem impressed when they see the interior of the apartment. “This looks so cool, Shige!” Tegoshi squeals, looking right and left as he walks into the spacious living room.
“A really comfortable place,” Massu agrees. “Oh look, snow globes!”
Shige watches with horror as Massu picks up two of the miniature snow globes on the coffee table and acts like he’s going to juggle them. Shige quickly wrests them out of Massu’s hands, but the latter simply laughs and walks to the kitchen.
A stern reproach is at Shige’s lips, but he’s distracted by shrieks coming from his bedroom. When did they get there anyway? Taking rapid strides to his room, he finds Koyama and Tegoshi standing on his bed, engaged in an intense pillow fight.
“Surrender immediately, or else!” Koyama warns, but it doesn’t sound so menacing when his words are interspersed with giggles. Tegoshi responds by ramming a pillow against Koyama’s stomach, sending him toppling over to the edge of the bed.
“Stop it!” Shige yells.
“It’s okay, Shige, we took off our shoes,” Tegoshi says.
“That’s not the point!”
Massu pokes his head inside the door. “Hey Shige, where can I find the TV remote?”
“I... where did you get that?” Shige points at the open ice cream tub Massu is holding in one hand. His other hand was spooning the contents to his mouth.
“From your fridge.”
“Who says you can raid my fridge-”
Tegoshi jumps off the bed, screeching, “I want ice cream too!”
Shige stands there with his mouth open as Massu scampers off, Tegoshi hurrying after him. Sliding off the bed, Koyama walks up to him and pats his shoulder. “Lighten up, Shige. The party’s just beginning!”
Two hours later, Shige wishes he hadn’t let his friends hold this supposed ‘party’ in the first place. They didn’t leave a single place in the apartment untouched, going from trying on the suits in his wardrobe to ransacking his DVD collection to look for porn. They found the porn later in the form of magazines hidden behind a stack of books on the uppermost shelf. As Koyama put it, “It figures that Shige’s choice of smut would be the printed kind.”
In the beginning Shige had tried to stop them, but after they opened the bottle of champagne he had been saving, he gave up. He should be angry at these idiots, he tried to be, but as he watched them talk and laugh all he felt was a spark of warmth inside.
He had missed these guys without even realizing it.
When the clock strikes two, only he and Tegoshi are still awake. Massu had fallen asleep on the living room floor after their last round of Truth or Dare, Koyama following soon after. Shige thinks they’re going to be really sore in the morning, but he does nothing about it. He might not be angry, but not very merciful either - that champagne was expensive.
"I'm going to be so hung over in the morning," Tegoshi moans, leaning his head back on the sofa. "Good thing I don't have any TV appearances until the weekend."
Shige takes a sideways glance at him. "What is it that you do anyway? I know nothing about being an idol."
"A lot of things, but mainly I sing. It all started from that. I signed up at an agency wanting to become a singer, and there I got trained for a lot of other stuff, like acting, modeling and public speaking. Nowadays I do a little bit of everything."
"I never thought you'd end up doing this. I thought you were going into sports or something."
Tegoshi laughs. "I could have. I was actually thinking about finding a soccer scholarship if singing didn't work out. But once I went into it I got really serious, and from then on there was just no way back. I decided if I was going to do this, I was going to be the best."
Shige can't help to feel awed at Tegoshi's unshakeable belief in himself. I'm going to be the best... that's something unthinkable for Shige to say. He lets out a small, resigned sigh, which does not escape Tegoshi's attention.
"What's the matter?" asks Tegoshi.
Shige chuckles dryly. "I wish I had an ounce of your self-esteem. If I did I'd probably be doing better right now."
"Hey, you're not doing so bad yourself. You have this nice apartment and a good job."
"Yeah, but it's not the one I want."
Probably Tegoshi senses something, because he stays silent for a moment before turning to face Shige, putting a pillow on his lap. "Tell me," he says, his voice quiet and earnest.
So Shige tells him. He has kept this bottled up for so long that it pours out in a torrent of words, of hopes and dreams, of doubts and fears. He tells Tegoshi how he has been fantasizing about becoming an author, has written bits and pieces over the years that he rarely shares with anyone.
In college he studied finance because his parents recommended it, saying that it promised a solid future career. Writing is the exact opposite of that. Writing is a desolate road he has never fully traveled, not being courageous enough. But now that he's worked in finance for a few years, he has realized how dull the work is. Yet he puts in long hours because that's what expected of him, and because it enables him to live comfortably.
"On one hand I'm so sick of working in that company, but I don't know what I'd do if I quit. I haven't published anything yet-" he stops, correcting himself, "hell, I haven't even finished anything yet."
"What is it that you want to write? Novels?"
Shige nods. "I have all these big ideas, but making them work on paper is not as easy as it seems. And when I do want to write I'm already too tired from work, or I get writer's block."
"Quit your job, then," Tegoshi says straightforwardly.
"It's not that simple!" Shige exclaims. "How will I make a living? I don't even know if writing is going to work!"
"But you've been hesitating because you still have the job as a cushion, right?" Tegoshi jabs a finger at Shige's chest. "Well, I say remove that cushion. It's all or nothing now. Even if you fall on your face, you'll know that you've given all you've got."
Tegoshi makes everything sound so easy, but that’s because he’s Tegoshi. Shige, on the other hand, gets nervous just thinking about quitting his job. “I don’t even... I mean...” his voice grows smaller with each word, “...I’m not entirely sure I have what it takes.”
”Of course you do! It doesn’t really surprise me that you want to write. Remember when we were classmates in junior high? One day you were scribbling something during biology, and the teacher caught you and made you read it out loud. It turned out to be a poem so good that the whole class was clapping when you finished reading. Even our teacher admitted it was great.” Tegoshi smiles and adds, “You’ve had the gift in you all along, Shige. You just have to let it out.”
“I think you’re overestimating me,” Shige replies feebly.
Tegoshi stares at him in an odd way before saying, “You just don’t see it, do you? How awesome you are.”
Shige widens his eyes. “Eh...?”
“Do you know the manga Fruits Basket?”
“I’ve heard of it.”
“It was discussed recently in a variety show that I'm in. The main character in the manga once said that people’s good qualities are like umeboshi in an onigiri, because they’re stuck to their backs. Some people might not think there’s anything special about them, but that’s only because they can’t see the umeboshi in their own backs. The ones who can see them clearly are other people.”
Tegoshi bends over until his face is only inches away from Shige’s, his eyes gleaming as they hold Shige’s gaze. “You can’t see your own umeboshi, Shige, but I can. Since a long time ago.”
Something makes Shige’s breath quicken. He’s not sure if it’s Tegoshi’s words, or the fact that they’re so close he can see every strand of blond hair on Tegoshi’s head, the roots of which have begun to grow darker. Then Tegoshi closes the distance between them and wraps his arms around him, and for a second Shige loses his breath altogether.
Tegoshi rests his cheek on Shige’s shoulder, his hands traveling across Shige’s back and stopping right at the center.
“It’s right here,” he says. “Your umeboshi. It’s beautiful.”
Struck dumb by the words, it takes a while for Shige to figure out how to respond. Finally he does what feels natural: he hugs Tegoshi back. They had embraced each other several times that night, but this time it’s warmer, gentler. More personal. They stay locked in each other's arms for a long time.
Shige starts to say, "Tegoshi," but he notices his friend's body has slackened. "Tegoshi...?"
The answer comes in the form of a soft snore: Tegoshi is fast asleep.
Gently, Shige disengages himself from Tegoshi and arranges Tegoshi's body to lie down on the sofa, sliding a pillow under his head. Tegoshi mutters something inaudible and turns to his side. His sleeping face looks younger, much like the little Tegoshi that Shige used to know.
As he's about to retire to his bedroom, it dawns on Shige that Tegoshi is the only one sleeping on the couch while Koyama and Massu are on the floor. Idols are really special after all, Shige thinks with a smile.
"Thank you," he whispers before turning off the lights.
Shige quits his job the following week.
His co-workers are all puzzled to hear that he hasn't got a new job. "What are you going to do then?" asks Tanaka.
"I'm going to write a novel and get it published," he replies. "That, or fall on my face. Either way, I'll know that I've given all I've got."
The looks on his office mates' faces as he spins around and leaves are priceless. Luckily none of them notice how his hands are shaking.
His savings are enough to tide him over for the next three months, by the end of which he aims to finish his novel. He plans to keep a tight budget during that period, cutting everything down to the utmost necessities. He doesn't have a degree in finance for nothing. If he's really frugal he might be able to stretch it to three and a half months, maybe four. In the event that things don’t work out... well, he just hopes Koyama needs an extra hand at the ramen shop.
He establishes a strict writing regime. Finding out he writes best at night, he starts sleeping during the day and waking up in the afternoon, then settling down to review and edit what he had written the night before. By the time the sun goes down he starts writing new sections.
He takes occasional breaks to eat or clear his head a little by taking a walk outside, listening to music or turning on the TV, but only for a few minutes at a time. The funny thing is, now that he knows Tegoshi is an idol, he seems to catch him on TV all the time. It's like Tegoshi's reminding him of his goal while winking at him and offering an overly-sweetened, carbonated drink.
He tries not to think of what will happen if he really ends up falling on his face. All he does is reread and edit, consult his outline, perfect his characters, smooth the edges of his dialogues, and just write, write, write. It's all he lives and breathes.
He has never felt so alive.
“Are you all right?” is the first thing Tegoshi asks Shige when they meet again after four months.
They are in a secluded corner of a café near the studio where Tegoshi just finished recording. His concerned eyes are trained on Shige, taking in his appearance. “Looks like you lost some weight,” he says.
“I guess I did.”
“Did you sleep at all? You look like a...”
“Vampire?” Shige suggests. A combination of writing until the wee hours of the morning, not getting enough sunshine, and a steady diet of instant food has indeed wreaked havoc on Shige’s complexion.
“I was going to say zombie, but that’s pretty close.” Tegoshi leans forward on the table, his face a picture of anticipation. “So how did it go? Tell me everything.”
“Well, the rent for my apartment was eating up my savings, so I had to move to a smaller place.”
Tegoshi makes a sympathetic clicking noise with his tongue. “What a pity. We had good memories there.”
Glaring meaningfully at his friend, Shige continues. “But I finished the novel. I sent it to several publishers.” He pauses, voice dropping. “I got four rejection letters.”
Tegoshi’s expression is probably more dejected than Shige’s own when receiving those letters. It’s rather endearing how invested Tegoshi is in all this.
“There was another letter though.” Shige can’t hold in his smile any longer. “This one said they’re going to publish my novel.”
“Shige!” Tegoshi leaps to his feet and circles the table to launch himself against Shige. If Shige hadn’t been quick to stand up as well, he’d probably be knocked over by the sheer force.
“I knew it, I knew it!” Tegoshi keeps saying as he clings to Shige, arms around his neck. “I had no doubt at all.”
Shige pulls back to look Tegoshi in the eyes. “Thanks for having faith in me.”
Tegoshi says with a grin, “Now you believe you’re awesome?”
“No,” Shige replies, “you are.”
It’s like one of those perfect moments when he knows just exactly what he wants to write, when every word falls effortlessly into place. Shige bends forward at the same time Tegoshi tilts his head. As their lips fuse together, Shige thinks there’s no better ending to a story than this.
***
End note: This fic means a lot to me because I'm currently in a similar situation with Shige in the story - trying to change professions, although the details are different. But I'm not as brave as Shige's character in here, so I made him do things I'm still too much of a coward to do. Hopefully I will soon gather enough courage to achieve my dreams, or fall on my face in the process. Thank you so much for reading this far, I really appreciate it. ♥
Type: One-shot
Word count: 4,893
Rating: PG
Pairing: Shige/Tegoshi (NEWS)
Summary: Who would’ve thought that the push Shige desperately needs to finish his novel would come from the most unlikely source: his old friend, the idol Tegoshi Yuya? AU. Written for luna_truths in this year's newsficcon, first posted here. Thanks to my wonderful beta sanjihan.
Note: umeboshi = pickled plums, onigiri = rice balls wrapped in dried seaweed.
Shige’s days bleed into one another. When he goes to sleep, it feels like it’s only a moment before he has to wake up again. He showers, puts on his clothes, chomps on bland instant ramen for breakfast, rides the packed subway to the office, slogs through endless mountains of work, eats lunch at his desk instead of eating out.
Sometimes he leaves work on time, but most often he spends a few extra hours in overtime. By the time he clocks out of the office, he’s too tired to go anywhere. On the way back he stops at a convenience store to grab a bento, arrives home and takes a shower, has dinner in front of the TV before bed, then the alarm clock wakes him up in no time at all.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
On weekends, after sleeping in until late morning, he sits at a small desk near the window and stares at his laptop. A document is open, sometimes two or three, or even more. One of them may only contain a few paragraphs, disjointed bits of dialogue, while another boasts pages and pages filled with words. Yet another may be absolutely empty.
Hours go by as he sits in front of the laptop, but only a fraction of them are spent writing. Mostly he just stares at blank spaces, wondering why he's even trying in the first place.
None of the documents have ever been completed.
When his co-workers manage to persuade him to go out for a drink, it's not because he really wants to. They're just really insistent.
"Come on, Kato, you never hang out with us!" says Tanaka, who sits across from him at the office. "You need to let your hair down once in a while."
Shige is itching to strike back by saying that Tanaka is in desperate need of a haircut, but he just smiles weakly instead.
A total of five guys and three girls join in at the bar not far from their office building after work hours. Their table is lively with conversation and laughter, but Shige mostly remains quiet, sipping his drink.
“Remember the time we went to that club in Roppongi and Sawamura got really smashed?” Tanaka says.
The aforementioned Sawamura covers her face with her hands and says, “Oh my God, don’t tell me. I hardly remember a thing from that night... I didn’t do anything embarrassing, did I?”
The others explode in mirth, shouting “How can you not remember?” and “I’m sure that lucky dude won’t forget what happened!”
“What? What dude?” Sawamura squeaks. Everybody keeps cackling and teasing her, so she turns to Shige, who hasn’t said anything. “Did you know about this, Kato-kun?”
Suddenly self-aware, Shige shakes his head. “No.”
“You’re barking up the wrong tree,” another guy named Ueda says. “Kato didn’t come with us that night.”
Shige can almost see the thought bubbles above his co-workers’ heads saying: Not that he ever does - the guy who’s incapable of having fun.
“I think he has a secret part-time job or something,” Tanaka says.
While Sawamura continues to press the others to reveal what happened in the club, Shige asks Ueda, “When was this anyway?”
“Last month. It was the second Friday, I think.”
Shige’s mind traces back to the time his co-workers invited him to go to the posh new club in Roppongi. The second Friday of last month... that would mean July 11.
His birthday.
He remembers feeling particularly miserable that day, because his birthdays always remind him how time continues to go by while he stays stagnant, never fulfilling his aspirations. But his co-workers weren’t aware of that, shrugging off his refusal to their invitation as nothing out of the norm for him.
He looks around the table now, at the smiling faces flushed with alcohol. Nobody here knows his birthday, nobody ever sees him as someone other than an overworked, reclusive salaryman.
Nobody here really knows him.
“Sorry guys,” he mumbles, “I think I’ll call it a night.”
Most of them don’t even hear him amid the loud music at the bar. He slips out of his chair as Tanaka calls out, “Kato, come on! Where are you going, man?”
Shige doesn’t respond and simply walks away. He is unsure of where to go, not really keen on going back to his apartment and seeing the laptop on the desk with the unfinished stories in it. So he takes a detour and strolls around randomly, barely alert to his surroundings.
He realizes with a touch of irony that this is precisely what he has been doing for the past few years: wandering aimlessly, aware of his goal but not taking the actual steps to achieve it. He wonders if it’s caused by his chronic lack of confidence. Or maybe he’s just not brave enough to chuck comfort and security that a conventional life path has given him, not bold enough to take the necessary risks in order to pursue his dreams.
He loses track of time as he lets his feet take him wherever they want to go. The streets and buildings no longer seem familiar; he has strayed several blocks from the district where his office and the bar are located. He’s about to turn a corner and further lose himself in the city when a voice calls out from behind him, “Shige?”
He turns around to see a lanky, golden-haired man standing at the door of a restaurant, wearing an apron on top of his t-shirt and jeans. It takes a few seconds for Shige to connect the face and the name, but then the man smiles and Shige would recognize that smile anywhere.
“Koyama,” he says.
“It’s been a while, Shige!” Koyama walks over and gives him a hug. “Who would’ve thought I’d see you here?”
The hug is unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome. Koyama has always been forthright with his affections, and despite not having seen each other frequently for the last several years, they had been quite close as teenagers.
Pulling back, Koyama keeps his hands on Shige’s shoulders, looking him up and down with the euphoric grin still on his face. “Did you just get off work? Looking like a real businessman, huh?”
Shige waves a hand in front of his face. “Nah, I’m only a regular employee. I was just, um, walking around.”
Staring up at Koyama’s face, he feels like playing one of those games where you have to find the differences between two pictures. This Koyama and the one Shige remembers are not unlike, with only subtle changes. He had grown even taller over the years. There are faint lines near his eyes, and his face now has a sort of calm contentment to it, but still retains its jovial air.
“So you’re free tonight? Have you had something to eat? Come in and have a bite!”
Shige now remembers Koyama mentioning taking over his family’s ramen shop a few years back. He’d had no idea the place was within walking distance from his office.
“Actually I’m-” Shige begins, but he can’t find a proper excuse. I was just strolling around and taking pity on myself as per normal, and I don’t really feel like being with people right now. That doesn’t seem like it’ll sound so good out loud.
Koyama doesn’t seem to notice the unfinished utterance; he’s so happy his smile is practically splitting his face. “This is such a great coincidence. I’m treating special people today and having you here is like icing on the cake. Come on!”
He links his arm through Shige’s and drags him inside the restaurant, Shige helpless to stop him. The ramen shop isn’t too crowded at that time of night, but Koyama goes straight to a door at the back which leads to a small corridor.
“Private rooms,” he tells Shige. “Had to use one because of our VIP guest.”
Shige wonders if Koyama is referring to him sarcastically or something, but his friend sounds serious. Koyama opens the second door from the right and, pulling Shige in behind him, announces to the room, “Hey guys, you won’t believe who just showed up!”
Two men are sitting facing each other at a table laden with food, and both look up as Koyama and Shige walk in. The first is normal-looking, with brown hair and a friendly, round-cheeked face, but the other is striking in his appearance. Thinner than his companion, the second guy’s hair is dyed platinum blond, a contrast with his tanned skin. His earrings glint in the light, but the smile in his face is brighter as he cries out, “Shige! Is that really you?”
Their association with Koyama makes it slightly easier for Shige to place them. The brown-haired one is Masuda - Massu, as everybody used to call him. That means the blond is their other friend Tegoshi, but Shige is having trouble reconciling the image of the tiny boy in his head with the flashy young man now sitting in front of him.
Massu shakes Shige hand and pats his shoulder, saying, “Good to see you, man.” When he goes to the other side of the table, Tegoshi gives him a one-armed hug and pulls him to sit down with them. Koyama excuses himself (“Gotta make sure business is running well. Don’t talk about me behind my back!”) and leaves the three of them together.
“I totally didn’t expect to see you here, Shige,” Massu says. “How long has it been since we’ve seen each other?”
“Well... years, I think,” Shige replies.
He and Massu used to attend the same cram school, though in different levels. Koyama was Shige’s friend from the same neighborhood. Tegoshi was a newcomer at Shige’s junior high, and his parents just happened to be acquaintances of Massu’s. Thus their little group was born, a ragtag bunch of kids who stuck together until the inevitable occurred: they grew up and drifted apart.
“You haven’t changed much,” Shige tells Massu. Like Koyama, he can still see in Massu his younger version, now slightly hardened around the edges.
“I bet you think Tegoshi has, though,” Massu says.
Tegoshi laughs. “Everybody says that.”
Shige turns to look at Tegoshi. “It’s true,” he says, “you have changed. But you look oddly familiar at the same time...”
“You’ve probably seen him on TV,” Massu says.
“That’s right!” Shige slaps a hand on his thigh. He doesn’t pay much attention to showbiz, but now he recalls seeing the occasional glimpse of a certain celebrity in the media and feeling like he had seen that face somewhere. “So you’re an idol now?”
“Not an ordinary idol,” Massu jumps in, turning his voice exaggeratingly into that of a presenter, “he’s the singing sensation, TV personality, up-and-coming actor and CM prince, our very own Tegoshi Yuya!”
Tegoshi puts on an outwardly modest smile of someone who inwardly thinks himself worthy of all the praise heaped on him. Shige still remembers this aspect of him, at least. In another person it might seem like arrogance, but Tegoshi simply has that sense of overpowering self-assurance which, now that Shige considers it, makes him a perfect idol.
“Enough about me. What about you, Shige?” Tegoshi grins, patting Shige’s arm. “Wearing such a nice suit... been climbing the corporate ladder, I see.”
Shige shakes his head, having no intention to boast about an occupation he’s not proud of. “I work at an investment company. Just another employee, nothing special.”
“Well, you’ve always been the smart one,” Massu says. “And I’m the athletic one.”
“Wait, I thought I was the athletic one,” Tegoshi says. “I was on the soccer team.”
“You’re the ambitious one. You also wanted to join the basketball team and the choir, didn’t you?”
Tegoshi considers it, and then nods. “I guess you can say I’m ambitious. What does that make Kei-chan, then?”
“He’s the mother,” Shige says, remembering how thoughtful Koyama had been to all of them, being the eldest.
Tegoshi and Massu burst out laughing at the remark just as Koyama re-enters. “What did I miss?” he asks.
“You’re the mother!” the others say in unison and proceed to laugh at Koyama’s bewildered expression.
It’s incredible how easy it feels for Shige to talk to these guys, to slip into old manners and forget how unhappy he had felt earlier in the night. In a way it’s like returning to a time when life was easier, when the only thing he had to worry about was his mother getting angry at him for coming home too late for dinner. Koyama keeps the food and drinks coming, and they fuel the conversation to continue for hours.
“So now you’re back to school, but as a teacher,” Shige says to Massu.
“That’s right,” Massu replies. “There’s not a dull moment teaching physical education. It keeps you young at heart too, working with children.”
“And dressing like one too?” Koyama says teasingly.
Massu shrugs. “It’s summer. Shorts are airy.”
“I’ll drink to that!” Tegoshi raises his glass. “To shorts and summer!”
They all laugh and down their drinks. Putting his glass down with a thump, Koyama sighs. “Man, it’s been a while since we all got together like this. How come we don’t meet more often?”
Tegoshi puts up his hands in a gesture of defeat. “I know, I know - too busy entertaining people. Guilty as charged. But I came today, didn’t I?”
“Shige never comes to school reunions,” Massu says.
“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Koyama playfully punches Shige’s arm. “Too cool to hang out with your old buddies?”
Shige squirms uncomfortably. Between putting extra hours at work and feeling conflicted about his career path, he hasn’t spared a thought about socializing with former adolescent friends. Scratch that - he practically doesn’t socialize, period.
“Sorry about that,” he murmurs. “I guess I’m a bad friend.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it, man,” Koyama says. “What matters is you’re here now.”
“Wait,” Massu interjects, “isn’t Shige’s birthday not far from mine? In July?”
“Yes! Only a week apart, right?” Tegoshi says. “It’s a month late, but, well, happy birthday!”
Already half-drunk, each of them stands up to give Shige a hug, and then they make another toast to his health.
“Did you have a party? You should have a party,” Koyama says.
“Why don’t we have a party after this? Party at Shige’s place!” Tegoshi suggests.
Everyone seems to consider this an excellent idea, but Shige thinks they’re probably just fooling around. The four of them leave the ramen shop, Koyama trusting his staff to close up, and then they stop at a 24-hour convenience store to buy refreshments before taking the subway. Not until they enter the lobby of his building does Shige realize his friends are serious about the party.
“There’s really nothing in my apartment, guys,” he says as they ride the elevator to his floor.
“It’s okay, we got provisions,” Massu replies, lifting the grocery bag filled with snacks.
“I’m not really the partying kind. I’ve never held any parties here,” Shige says as he fumbles with his keys in front of his door.
“We’re bringing the party to you,” Koyama assures him.
The guys seem impressed when they see the interior of the apartment. “This looks so cool, Shige!” Tegoshi squeals, looking right and left as he walks into the spacious living room.
“A really comfortable place,” Massu agrees. “Oh look, snow globes!”
Shige watches with horror as Massu picks up two of the miniature snow globes on the coffee table and acts like he’s going to juggle them. Shige quickly wrests them out of Massu’s hands, but the latter simply laughs and walks to the kitchen.
A stern reproach is at Shige’s lips, but he’s distracted by shrieks coming from his bedroom. When did they get there anyway? Taking rapid strides to his room, he finds Koyama and Tegoshi standing on his bed, engaged in an intense pillow fight.
“Surrender immediately, or else!” Koyama warns, but it doesn’t sound so menacing when his words are interspersed with giggles. Tegoshi responds by ramming a pillow against Koyama’s stomach, sending him toppling over to the edge of the bed.
“Stop it!” Shige yells.
“It’s okay, Shige, we took off our shoes,” Tegoshi says.
“That’s not the point!”
Massu pokes his head inside the door. “Hey Shige, where can I find the TV remote?”
“I... where did you get that?” Shige points at the open ice cream tub Massu is holding in one hand. His other hand was spooning the contents to his mouth.
“From your fridge.”
“Who says you can raid my fridge-”
Tegoshi jumps off the bed, screeching, “I want ice cream too!”
Shige stands there with his mouth open as Massu scampers off, Tegoshi hurrying after him. Sliding off the bed, Koyama walks up to him and pats his shoulder. “Lighten up, Shige. The party’s just beginning!”
Two hours later, Shige wishes he hadn’t let his friends hold this supposed ‘party’ in the first place. They didn’t leave a single place in the apartment untouched, going from trying on the suits in his wardrobe to ransacking his DVD collection to look for porn. They found the porn later in the form of magazines hidden behind a stack of books on the uppermost shelf. As Koyama put it, “It figures that Shige’s choice of smut would be the printed kind.”
In the beginning Shige had tried to stop them, but after they opened the bottle of champagne he had been saving, he gave up. He should be angry at these idiots, he tried to be, but as he watched them talk and laugh all he felt was a spark of warmth inside.
He had missed these guys without even realizing it.
When the clock strikes two, only he and Tegoshi are still awake. Massu had fallen asleep on the living room floor after their last round of Truth or Dare, Koyama following soon after. Shige thinks they’re going to be really sore in the morning, but he does nothing about it. He might not be angry, but not very merciful either - that champagne was expensive.
"I'm going to be so hung over in the morning," Tegoshi moans, leaning his head back on the sofa. "Good thing I don't have any TV appearances until the weekend."
Shige takes a sideways glance at him. "What is it that you do anyway? I know nothing about being an idol."
"A lot of things, but mainly I sing. It all started from that. I signed up at an agency wanting to become a singer, and there I got trained for a lot of other stuff, like acting, modeling and public speaking. Nowadays I do a little bit of everything."
"I never thought you'd end up doing this. I thought you were going into sports or something."
Tegoshi laughs. "I could have. I was actually thinking about finding a soccer scholarship if singing didn't work out. But once I went into it I got really serious, and from then on there was just no way back. I decided if I was going to do this, I was going to be the best."
Shige can't help to feel awed at Tegoshi's unshakeable belief in himself. I'm going to be the best... that's something unthinkable for Shige to say. He lets out a small, resigned sigh, which does not escape Tegoshi's attention.
"What's the matter?" asks Tegoshi.
Shige chuckles dryly. "I wish I had an ounce of your self-esteem. If I did I'd probably be doing better right now."
"Hey, you're not doing so bad yourself. You have this nice apartment and a good job."
"Yeah, but it's not the one I want."
Probably Tegoshi senses something, because he stays silent for a moment before turning to face Shige, putting a pillow on his lap. "Tell me," he says, his voice quiet and earnest.
So Shige tells him. He has kept this bottled up for so long that it pours out in a torrent of words, of hopes and dreams, of doubts and fears. He tells Tegoshi how he has been fantasizing about becoming an author, has written bits and pieces over the years that he rarely shares with anyone.
In college he studied finance because his parents recommended it, saying that it promised a solid future career. Writing is the exact opposite of that. Writing is a desolate road he has never fully traveled, not being courageous enough. But now that he's worked in finance for a few years, he has realized how dull the work is. Yet he puts in long hours because that's what expected of him, and because it enables him to live comfortably.
"On one hand I'm so sick of working in that company, but I don't know what I'd do if I quit. I haven't published anything yet-" he stops, correcting himself, "hell, I haven't even finished anything yet."
"What is it that you want to write? Novels?"
Shige nods. "I have all these big ideas, but making them work on paper is not as easy as it seems. And when I do want to write I'm already too tired from work, or I get writer's block."
"Quit your job, then," Tegoshi says straightforwardly.
"It's not that simple!" Shige exclaims. "How will I make a living? I don't even know if writing is going to work!"
"But you've been hesitating because you still have the job as a cushion, right?" Tegoshi jabs a finger at Shige's chest. "Well, I say remove that cushion. It's all or nothing now. Even if you fall on your face, you'll know that you've given all you've got."
Tegoshi makes everything sound so easy, but that’s because he’s Tegoshi. Shige, on the other hand, gets nervous just thinking about quitting his job. “I don’t even... I mean...” his voice grows smaller with each word, “...I’m not entirely sure I have what it takes.”
”Of course you do! It doesn’t really surprise me that you want to write. Remember when we were classmates in junior high? One day you were scribbling something during biology, and the teacher caught you and made you read it out loud. It turned out to be a poem so good that the whole class was clapping when you finished reading. Even our teacher admitted it was great.” Tegoshi smiles and adds, “You’ve had the gift in you all along, Shige. You just have to let it out.”
“I think you’re overestimating me,” Shige replies feebly.
Tegoshi stares at him in an odd way before saying, “You just don’t see it, do you? How awesome you are.”
Shige widens his eyes. “Eh...?”
“Do you know the manga Fruits Basket?”
“I’ve heard of it.”
“It was discussed recently in a variety show that I'm in. The main character in the manga once said that people’s good qualities are like umeboshi in an onigiri, because they’re stuck to their backs. Some people might not think there’s anything special about them, but that’s only because they can’t see the umeboshi in their own backs. The ones who can see them clearly are other people.”
Tegoshi bends over until his face is only inches away from Shige’s, his eyes gleaming as they hold Shige’s gaze. “You can’t see your own umeboshi, Shige, but I can. Since a long time ago.”
Something makes Shige’s breath quicken. He’s not sure if it’s Tegoshi’s words, or the fact that they’re so close he can see every strand of blond hair on Tegoshi’s head, the roots of which have begun to grow darker. Then Tegoshi closes the distance between them and wraps his arms around him, and for a second Shige loses his breath altogether.
Tegoshi rests his cheek on Shige’s shoulder, his hands traveling across Shige’s back and stopping right at the center.
“It’s right here,” he says. “Your umeboshi. It’s beautiful.”
Struck dumb by the words, it takes a while for Shige to figure out how to respond. Finally he does what feels natural: he hugs Tegoshi back. They had embraced each other several times that night, but this time it’s warmer, gentler. More personal. They stay locked in each other's arms for a long time.
Shige starts to say, "Tegoshi," but he notices his friend's body has slackened. "Tegoshi...?"
The answer comes in the form of a soft snore: Tegoshi is fast asleep.
Gently, Shige disengages himself from Tegoshi and arranges Tegoshi's body to lie down on the sofa, sliding a pillow under his head. Tegoshi mutters something inaudible and turns to his side. His sleeping face looks younger, much like the little Tegoshi that Shige used to know.
As he's about to retire to his bedroom, it dawns on Shige that Tegoshi is the only one sleeping on the couch while Koyama and Massu are on the floor. Idols are really special after all, Shige thinks with a smile.
"Thank you," he whispers before turning off the lights.
Shige quits his job the following week.
His co-workers are all puzzled to hear that he hasn't got a new job. "What are you going to do then?" asks Tanaka.
"I'm going to write a novel and get it published," he replies. "That, or fall on my face. Either way, I'll know that I've given all I've got."
The looks on his office mates' faces as he spins around and leaves are priceless. Luckily none of them notice how his hands are shaking.
His savings are enough to tide him over for the next three months, by the end of which he aims to finish his novel. He plans to keep a tight budget during that period, cutting everything down to the utmost necessities. He doesn't have a degree in finance for nothing. If he's really frugal he might be able to stretch it to three and a half months, maybe four. In the event that things don’t work out... well, he just hopes Koyama needs an extra hand at the ramen shop.
He establishes a strict writing regime. Finding out he writes best at night, he starts sleeping during the day and waking up in the afternoon, then settling down to review and edit what he had written the night before. By the time the sun goes down he starts writing new sections.
He takes occasional breaks to eat or clear his head a little by taking a walk outside, listening to music or turning on the TV, but only for a few minutes at a time. The funny thing is, now that he knows Tegoshi is an idol, he seems to catch him on TV all the time. It's like Tegoshi's reminding him of his goal while winking at him and offering an overly-sweetened, carbonated drink.
He tries not to think of what will happen if he really ends up falling on his face. All he does is reread and edit, consult his outline, perfect his characters, smooth the edges of his dialogues, and just write, write, write. It's all he lives and breathes.
He has never felt so alive.
“Are you all right?” is the first thing Tegoshi asks Shige when they meet again after four months.
They are in a secluded corner of a café near the studio where Tegoshi just finished recording. His concerned eyes are trained on Shige, taking in his appearance. “Looks like you lost some weight,” he says.
“I guess I did.”
“Did you sleep at all? You look like a...”
“Vampire?” Shige suggests. A combination of writing until the wee hours of the morning, not getting enough sunshine, and a steady diet of instant food has indeed wreaked havoc on Shige’s complexion.
“I was going to say zombie, but that’s pretty close.” Tegoshi leans forward on the table, his face a picture of anticipation. “So how did it go? Tell me everything.”
“Well, the rent for my apartment was eating up my savings, so I had to move to a smaller place.”
Tegoshi makes a sympathetic clicking noise with his tongue. “What a pity. We had good memories there.”
Glaring meaningfully at his friend, Shige continues. “But I finished the novel. I sent it to several publishers.” He pauses, voice dropping. “I got four rejection letters.”
Tegoshi’s expression is probably more dejected than Shige’s own when receiving those letters. It’s rather endearing how invested Tegoshi is in all this.
“There was another letter though.” Shige can’t hold in his smile any longer. “This one said they’re going to publish my novel.”
“Shige!” Tegoshi leaps to his feet and circles the table to launch himself against Shige. If Shige hadn’t been quick to stand up as well, he’d probably be knocked over by the sheer force.
“I knew it, I knew it!” Tegoshi keeps saying as he clings to Shige, arms around his neck. “I had no doubt at all.”
Shige pulls back to look Tegoshi in the eyes. “Thanks for having faith in me.”
Tegoshi says with a grin, “Now you believe you’re awesome?”
“No,” Shige replies, “you are.”
It’s like one of those perfect moments when he knows just exactly what he wants to write, when every word falls effortlessly into place. Shige bends forward at the same time Tegoshi tilts his head. As their lips fuse together, Shige thinks there’s no better ending to a story than this.
***
End note: This fic means a lot to me because I'm currently in a similar situation with Shige in the story - trying to change professions, although the details are different. But I'm not as brave as Shige's character in here, so I made him do things I'm still too much of a coward to do. Hopefully I will soon gather enough courage to achieve my dreams, or fall on my face in the process. Thank you so much for reading this far, I really appreciate it. ♥