[FIC] Untitled
Title: Untitled
Fandom/Pairing: KAT-TUN
Rating: pretty harmless
Word Count: haven't really counted but. it's pretty short lol.
Notes: oh god i haven't done this in a long long long time. anyway. remember those AU request things we put up ages back? i decided to try my hand at this particular request. no pairings as the entire thing is one-sided. it's short, but i don't know if i'll continue it. feedback, if you please? :)
--
"Thank you for waiting," the cashier was a young woman. Mid-twenties, at most. Her hair was honey brown--almost like the color of his desk back at home--and was tied up in a neat ponytail; it bounced with every move she made. Her eyes were warm chocolate, her lips pale pink. Kamenashi smiled at her and handed her the album in his hands.
"You're quite lucky," her nametag read Aya. A common name nowadays. Still, that smile was unique. "This is our last copy."
"I'm glad." Kamenashi's eyes watched her hands efficiently wrap up the plastic CD case, mesmerized. "I'm a huge fan."
The CD has been on repeat since six in the morning. He'd actually had a neighbor ask to him listen to something else. But Kame was unmoved. For a compromise, he lowered the volume; his neighbor left content. The flat was fairly large--a decent bedroom, a halfway decent bathroom, a kitchen and a living-cum-dining room--and in the middle of it was a lone stereo. The old stereo churned out a rock tune, accompanied by a soft melodious whisper of a man.
The flat was empty--nothing but doors and windows and walls--but Kame had all the necessities for now.
He'll live.
Every week, Kamenashi stood by the magazine rack, checking for newly published materials, occasionally grabbing a bite to eat. He was quite a regular that the owner invited him for tea when he was around. Kame usually turned this offer down.
"Fresh ones on the rack, Kazuya," the owner grunted. He was an old man, although not the least bit frail. Beside him was one of his employees, a highschool boy who was your stereotypical nerd: glasses, acne, braces and a voice that seemed to have lacked testosterone. Still, he was a good boy. Kame decided that that was what mattered.
"Thanks," Kame tipped his baseball cap and headed to the magazine racks, right beside the cold drinks. Sure enough, new issues were on display--doll-eyed girls, half-naked girls, technology, politics and there-- Kame's eyes lit up as he picked up what he came for.
The highschool boy looked surprised at the stack of magazine Kame brought to the counter. Kame didn't mind the surprise. Instead, he gave the boy a smile.
"For your sister?" the boy asked politely, as he punched in the magazines in the cash register. Behind him, the owner grunted.
Kame forgot, the boy was new.
"No," he said. He watched the boy pile the magazines up inside a plastic bag. "It's for me. I'm a huge fan."
The boy looked startled, but he returned the smile Kame gave. Kame left the store, humming a tune.
Kamenashi's flat three days later was no longer bare. There were hand-made shelves on the white walls, occasional pictures of beautiful scenery that the owner never visited in his life, furniture that actually made the space feel like a home and a large box. The box was crammed with its contents.
CDs, magazines, photobooks, DVDs--everything was there.
Once, Kame brought a girl home. The girl was Aya--the cashier--now a good friend of Kame's. She changed from her bland blue store uniform into a very trendy skirt, a tanktop and a fluffy sweater. Aya cooed once she saw the house. She suddenly went on about how she thought it looked so prim and proper. Kame smiled in reply.
The not-so-grand tour of the flat commenced, because Aya asked (and not too nicely at that). First was the bathroom--simple but efficient--followed by the smallish kitchen. Then came the bedroom. The bedroom was special. It contained Kame's bed and above it was a large poster, seemingly looming. Other than that, the room contained a desk and a tiny closet.
"You're really a fan, huh." Aya giggled. "At first, I thought you only said that to hit on me. Lots of guys used that trick before."
The notion sounded appalling to Kame.
"I would never do that." he said sincerely. "I'm a huge fan."
"I know that now," Aya looked up at him and smiled. Her smile meant something other than what smiles usually meant. Kame knew exactly what it was.
Some odd minutes later, the two were on the couch, Aya's skirt was hitched up and she was straddling Kame while giving him a generous kiss. For the first few seconds, Kame thought he enjoyed it--she did look promising--but the thought didn't last long.
Not long after, he got bored. He let her finish by herself.
Lonely. Kame was never lonely. He didn't recognize loneliness. That's because he was never alone.
Beside him, the CD continued to play on his stereo.
But sometimes, he'd miss it. He'd miss the hugs his mother used to give, or how his brothers would steal the meat off his bowl. He'd even miss how his father used to teach him how to pitch a ball. He'd yearn for them, write them letters that he never really meant to send, call them to hang up two rings later. Inside, he guessed he was still such a kid. And he wanted to stop being one immediately. He was a man. A fully-grown man.
But when the time came that he started missing them, Kame would play that CD. And then everything will be okay.
He had Akanishi Jin now, he didn't need anything else.
Beside him, the CD continued to play on his stereo.
--
Fandom/Pairing: KAT-TUN
Rating: pretty harmless
Word Count: haven't really counted but. it's pretty short lol.
Notes: oh god i haven't done this in a long long long time. anyway. remember those AU request things we put up ages back? i decided to try my hand at this particular request. no pairings as the entire thing is one-sided. it's short, but i don't know if i'll continue it. feedback, if you please? :)
--
"Thank you for waiting," the cashier was a young woman. Mid-twenties, at most. Her hair was honey brown--almost like the color of his desk back at home--and was tied up in a neat ponytail; it bounced with every move she made. Her eyes were warm chocolate, her lips pale pink. Kamenashi smiled at her and handed her the album in his hands.
"You're quite lucky," her nametag read Aya. A common name nowadays. Still, that smile was unique. "This is our last copy."
"I'm glad." Kamenashi's eyes watched her hands efficiently wrap up the plastic CD case, mesmerized. "I'm a huge fan."
The CD has been on repeat since six in the morning. He'd actually had a neighbor ask to him listen to something else. But Kame was unmoved. For a compromise, he lowered the volume; his neighbor left content. The flat was fairly large--a decent bedroom, a halfway decent bathroom, a kitchen and a living-cum-dining room--and in the middle of it was a lone stereo. The old stereo churned out a rock tune, accompanied by a soft melodious whisper of a man.
The flat was empty--nothing but doors and windows and walls--but Kame had all the necessities for now.
He'll live.
Every week, Kamenashi stood by the magazine rack, checking for newly published materials, occasionally grabbing a bite to eat. He was quite a regular that the owner invited him for tea when he was around. Kame usually turned this offer down.
"Fresh ones on the rack, Kazuya," the owner grunted. He was an old man, although not the least bit frail. Beside him was one of his employees, a highschool boy who was your stereotypical nerd: glasses, acne, braces and a voice that seemed to have lacked testosterone. Still, he was a good boy. Kame decided that that was what mattered.
"Thanks," Kame tipped his baseball cap and headed to the magazine racks, right beside the cold drinks. Sure enough, new issues were on display--doll-eyed girls, half-naked girls, technology, politics and there-- Kame's eyes lit up as he picked up what he came for.
The highschool boy looked surprised at the stack of magazine Kame brought to the counter. Kame didn't mind the surprise. Instead, he gave the boy a smile.
"For your sister?" the boy asked politely, as he punched in the magazines in the cash register. Behind him, the owner grunted.
Kame forgot, the boy was new.
"No," he said. He watched the boy pile the magazines up inside a plastic bag. "It's for me. I'm a huge fan."
The boy looked startled, but he returned the smile Kame gave. Kame left the store, humming a tune.
Kamenashi's flat three days later was no longer bare. There were hand-made shelves on the white walls, occasional pictures of beautiful scenery that the owner never visited in his life, furniture that actually made the space feel like a home and a large box. The box was crammed with its contents.
CDs, magazines, photobooks, DVDs--everything was there.
Once, Kame brought a girl home. The girl was Aya--the cashier--now a good friend of Kame's. She changed from her bland blue store uniform into a very trendy skirt, a tanktop and a fluffy sweater. Aya cooed once she saw the house. She suddenly went on about how she thought it looked so prim and proper. Kame smiled in reply.
The not-so-grand tour of the flat commenced, because Aya asked (and not too nicely at that). First was the bathroom--simple but efficient--followed by the smallish kitchen. Then came the bedroom. The bedroom was special. It contained Kame's bed and above it was a large poster, seemingly looming. Other than that, the room contained a desk and a tiny closet.
"You're really a fan, huh." Aya giggled. "At first, I thought you only said that to hit on me. Lots of guys used that trick before."
The notion sounded appalling to Kame.
"I would never do that." he said sincerely. "I'm a huge fan."
"I know that now," Aya looked up at him and smiled. Her smile meant something other than what smiles usually meant. Kame knew exactly what it was.
Some odd minutes later, the two were on the couch, Aya's skirt was hitched up and she was straddling Kame while giving him a generous kiss. For the first few seconds, Kame thought he enjoyed it--she did look promising--but the thought didn't last long.
Not long after, he got bored. He let her finish by herself.
Lonely. Kame was never lonely. He didn't recognize loneliness. That's because he was never alone.
Beside him, the CD continued to play on his stereo.
But sometimes, he'd miss it. He'd miss the hugs his mother used to give, or how his brothers would steal the meat off his bowl. He'd even miss how his father used to teach him how to pitch a ball. He'd yearn for them, write them letters that he never really meant to send, call them to hang up two rings later. Inside, he guessed he was still such a kid. And he wanted to stop being one immediately. He was a man. A fully-grown man.
But when the time came that he started missing them, Kame would play that CD. And then everything will be okay.
He had Akanishi Jin now, he didn't need anything else.
Beside him, the CD continued to play on his stereo.
--