Dawn of Reality (chapter one)
Title: Dawn of Reality
Pairing: Ohmiya, susceptible to change
Length: ~1,300 words
Author's note: Here's my shot at writing a fanfic. Hope you like it!
Summary: January, 201X. Sho made the final arrangements for our cruise to Shikoku, south of Tokyo. Believe it or not, we gave Aiba the task of arranging our food stock. Looks like we'll all be dead in a matter of days. Ohno is in charge of all the activities and necessities we might need on the ship, seeing as he's practically half fish and spends all his time out in the sea. I'm the weather guy (and technically the medicine guy because let's face it, I'll be needing it most), and Jun was sort of the can-do-all guy as per usual. I want to say that I'm excited but... ugh why did I agree to this? I'm turning green just thinking about it. Blegh. [end of journal entry]
chapter I - scared
I’m scared. It’s nearly the beginning of February and I’m freezing cold. We all are, considering how close we are to the ocean. If it weren’t for Sho’s waterproof watch that survived the crash, we would have lost track of what time it was, or how many days we have been stranded here for. I hope I’m not wrong to assume that the four of us have been here for an entire week, and somehow we’ve managed to stay alive. Physically, that is. Mentally…questionable. I’ve decided not to talk about Aiba. Not now, not yet. We don’t know what happened to him, so who am I to say that he’s a goner? Sho says I’m being insensitive. ME. Over my best friend. If I’m being insensitive, then they’re all being selfish. I’m not going to fucking mope until I see his cold grey body with my own two fucking eyes… He paused to take a few breaths. ...Jun always was a materialistic guy, so there’s no hiding his depression on this small island of sand exfoliation and dried seaweed facials. And Sho was already looking a little malnutritioned before even boarding the ship. Ever since the second day stranded here, he began…mumbling small things to himself. A little unsettling, to say the least. He was supposed to be the brains of the group after all. Then there’s Ohno, who... He sighed. I hate that I can’t telepathically read his thoughts. I hate that he won’t open up to me at a time like this. I know for a fact that he is holding back, and with how long we’ve known each other, cared for each other, I still can’t get him to feel 100% comfortable around me. Ever since that day, -
Nino sensed someone coming from behind by the sound of bare feet padding onto dry sand. He quickly shut his notepad and turned to find the man he was just thinking about walking toward him. He rose to his feet, dusting the sand off of his shorts.
“Hey, what are you up to?” Ohno leaned in towards the palm tree that Nino was hiding behind.
“Writing. I’m going to start journaling,” he waved the cover of a pocket-sized leather notepad that had ruffled papers from dried moisture, “for sanity purposes.”
Ohno nodded, not too interested in the details. “Where did you get that notepad from?”
He patted the pouch of his cargo shorts, which was now stiff with sea salt and week-old grime. Luckily he brought the notepad with him to distract him of the fact that his body hates the sea. Also, he learned a new “disappearing-ink” magic trick that he hoped to corner his friends into watching. That’s why he kept it close to his side.
No one could have prepared for a sudden crash into this naturally formed sediment of an island.
It happened fast, but Nino remembers it clearly: it was pitch black outside and he couldn’t fall asleep because he had already slept so much in the daytime recovering from his fourth vomiting episode. Now he was wide awake, feeling better and sat talking with the night owl Aiba, sharing the same beach chair while the other three friends were inside the cabin fast asleep. At the front of the deck was their ship captain, manning the way. The five of them insisted the captain to rest, but apparently they ventured a little too far from land so they had to keep trucking if they wanted to get back to Tokyo on schedule. The captain had them moving quite fast, but at the time no one complained.
“How’s it going with you and Ohno?” Aiba asked, a bottle of beer finding his lips in the same second.
Nino sucked into his cigarette and blew smoke from the corner of his mouth. “Nothing different. We really are like an old married couple--nothing ever changes.”
Aiba watched him carefully, caught the pensive look in his eyes after mentioning marriage.
“Ohno loves you to death, don’t you forget that. But you know how old-fashioned he is.” Aiba said defensively. Although he was never the brightest of the five, Aiba was possibly his closest friend. Of course he could read Nino like a book. “Give him some time to reconsider it.”
“I’ve put up 20 years of friendship and 10 years of dating with that man. I want to know that I’m not wasting my time.” Nino frowned, crushing his cigarette into a glass ashtray between his legs. Recollections of his attempt to pitch marriage in front of Ohno and Ohno’s panic-stricken face rejecting the idea clouded his thoughts as dark as the tar black sky.
“Marriage isn’t a proof of anything. So what if he isn’t ready for marriage? Does that change anything? Will you love him any less, after all you two have been through?”
Fuck Aiba and his spontaneous moments of being logical. Making him speechless with the exception of a wimpish “no” coming out of his tight-lipped mouth. He grabbed for his Winstons, hitting the bottom of the box and pulling out a cigarette with his lips.
It was so silly, too. He was never the clingy person in the relationship, but when he's with someone that cares more about fish than him, he can't help but re-evaluate his boyfriend. Aiba's words were slowly sinking into his consciousness, but until he and Ohno had a ring to prove for, he couldn’t help but think that their love was a result of being best friends for so long. How far can he deal with Ohno’s passivity?
Just as he was about to break a comfortable silence, a menacing gust of wind whistled intensely around them. Aiba’s bottle of Asahi began to rattle in his hands, followed by his ashtray falling, shattering hard on the deck. The ship was shaking with the force of an unruly god.
“What the fuck?!” Aiba yelled, running to the edge of the ship.
He stumbled to follow despite the sour feeling growing in his stomach, and what he saw, he didn’t like one bit.
“Holy fuck,” he gulped dryly at the sight in front of them. Giant waves that made their ship look like a pebble in comparison. Seconds from engulfing them.
“C-captain… CAPTAIN!”
Aiba’s screaming sounded like a whisper against the roaring waters growing dangerously close to them. He saw Aiba run to the front of the ship. He couldn’t move. Too sick. He fell to his knees, holding the bar on the sideline for dear life. His other hand covered his mouth so tight that his fingernails made indents on his skin.
What happened next, he couldn’t confidently say. There were screams, lots of rocking, lots of seasickness, and his name was being yelled out.
“Nino! NINO!!”
He closed his eyes when he could feel the wave hovering above the ship. Time slowed down; a sign of imminent death, he’s heard.
Just before the impending wave could push the ship into some abandoned island, crushing every wooden part to useless bits, he felt firm arms embrace him, tucking his head into what could only be Ohno’s chest.
In a single crash, things went silent. He wondered if he had died. For what seemed like five minutes, he was suffocating under salty water. He couldn’t handle it any longer--let the burning water flow through him for a mere second, until he could finally breathe again.
A strong pair of hands pulled his shoulders onto a flat, dry surface. He only needed to cough out spits of salty water before he could gasp delicious air back into his lungs.
Against the black sky, he saw a bright angel holding his wet cheeks, crying his name. Exhausted, he closed his eyes.
“Nino, oh thank god, Nino...”
“Aiba…? AIBA!”
[to be continued]
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