fic for domoarigatoyo
For: domoarigatoyo
From: satsumatsu
Title: of years and days
Pairing: Matsumoto Jun / Ninomiya Kazunari
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Summary: Jun decided from the start for as long as Nino allows it he would continue visiting. Just sometimes, sometimes he wished this growing feeling of his, this strange need to share his life with the other, would be reciprocated.
Notes: Inspired by Hirokazu Kore-eda’s “Like Father, Like Son”...
I had a hard time finding my way into this fic as I wanted to fulfil your requests (in fact I started three other fics)... In the end this is what I settled with. I hope it doesn’t disappoint (too much) and you enjoy it (a little).
now.
Jun carefully browses through the stock of Kyurakudo sweets, finally deciding on the delicious looking strawberry daifuku. He pays for the delicate dessert worth every yen, and peels off the price tag on his way back to the car, only to be greeted with an amused smile by his manager.
"Buying omiyage for your brother again, Matsumoto-san?" he asks, as he folds his newspaper in half, getting ready for the drive back to Tokyo.
Jun just smiles wistfully in return.
then.
Jun never bothered to correct people's assumptions that he was related to Ninomiya Kazunari in a way; well, not a lot of people knew about him anyway, let alone his name, as he rarely mentioned his family during interviews and the like. The few who knew jumped on the brother wagon in the beginning and Jun... just had gone along with that.
It was hard to explain, after all, that they were swapped as babies and the only connection they should have had was the moment they were given back to their families after the mistake was discovered by the hospital - the moment when eight year old Jun had gotten a glimpse of the eight year old Nino with his blank face but huge eyes, the sight of confusion and fear evident in them. Jun couldn't forget that image, that moment, ever.
and now.
He lets his manager drop him off near Ochiai Station and walks the short distance to the glassy, oval apartment building, punches in the security code, greets the porter with a nod before swiftly taking the stairs up to the fourth floor.
There is no doubt that Nino would be home. He works from home and everything that has a delivery service Nino uses. He has even bribed the girl from the konbini downstairs to bring him his daily melon bread. Jun always jokes that he is close to a hikikomori to which Nino snorts in response, eyes glued to the small TV screen not far away from a bigger one, his attention never leaving the game. Jun says it as a joke but part of him is always afraid that it is just that.
He sighs, ruffling his hair before knocking. Almost instantly he hears familiar curses, a familiar thump indicating someone just bumped into something (the coffee table, most likely), and more cursing before the door opens, revealing a disheveled man in his late twenties, scratching his one ab six pack - as he calls it -, yawning an unenthusiastic "Jun-kun".
Jun smiles as brightly as he can, holding up the confectionery bag and is greeted by the next yawn and a grumpily drawn out “Should have bought curry at least.” But he leaves the door open for Jun to come in.
and then.
It had been Jun who had sought Nino out, after the initial shock, after settling and constantly unsettling; he had never gotten accustomed to his new, real family. And he had tried, by all means. It must have been due to the abruptness and finality of it all, he couldn’t adapt. Every contact with his family was cut off as if the Matsumotos wanted to make sure he would forget but even though they had tried hard to make it home for him it never felt like home after he became one of them.
And somehow, as a child he thought the only one who would understand was the other one.
So he searched, and snooped around, and years went by without any success. But he was relentless, desperate even, and then he finally managed to catch a letter by the Ninomiyas - and it was the strangest thing, thinking of them as something foreign, something he didn’t belong to anymore, even after such a long time. Tears had flooded his eyes before he knew it but he scribbled the unheard-of address down in haste, found himself boarding an unknown train to the depth of Nishi-Tokyo not many days later, walking around in the tidy neighborhood of Fussa with a self-drawn map, looking, looking, looking out.
Most probably he would have liked the smell of adventure if he hadn’t been so nervous. And maybe it had been due to his nerves that, when sixteen year old Jun finally found sixteen year old Nino, coming towards the school gates he was passing with a matching look of recognition and surprise, Jun ran.
and now.
“Did you have dinner yet?” Jun asks, after watching Nino playing Super Mario for a while. It always relaxes him to an unbelievable extent, the familiar picture of Nino’s curled up form in front of a glimmering TV screen, smashing buttons.
Nino shakes his head in response so Jun gets up wordlessly to prepare something. The sounds of Mario walking through world after world accompany him and he smiles to himself.
This.
This is the only time he feels he’s home, or the closest thing to the concept he imagined for years and years.
He sets down a serving bowl of simple pasta with two dishes not much later and serves Nino and himself a portion before tearing Nino’s game console out of his hands, motioning for the spaghetti bowl while continuing the game.
“I really don't know why you bother to come at all,” Nino murmurs between mouthfuls.
Jun just hums, making Mario jump into the lava pool which leaves Nino cringing. “Can’t even play Super Mario...” Jun laughs when the newborn Mario is all ready to try the world again and it’s mere seconds he dies in exact the same lava pool. “And we are not even related or anything.”
At the harsh words Jun just hits him over the head, unleashes Mario yet again into the game, ignoring the other’s whining.
and then.
It had taken Jun some time to gather the courage to go for a second time but he did and as he walked around in Fussa, strange thoughts of how his life would have been here filled his mind - though Jun knew the Ninomiyas might not have ended up here without the incident. But still. He passed a small fish shop and imagined himself doing groceries for his mother. He passed a small park near the school and saw himself playing catch ball with his father. And the more he wandered around, without any success at stealing a glance at the other one, the more frustrated and confused and sad he got before he finally gave up, stopping thirstily and god damn tired in front of a vending machine, throwing in a few coins before pondering on what would quench his thirst the most.
“Your stalker abilities are creepy, I hope you know that...” Jun flinched, his hair on his neck rising before he slowly turned around, facing the person he had wanted to meet the most while fearing it at the same time.
The other boy, now miraculously shorter than him, leaned forward and pressed the button for some soda and Jun watched half afraid, half amazed at how Ninomiya bent down to get the can, opening it in one fluid motion and gulping down the cold drink.
“Sorry?” Jun squeaked.
Ninomiya spared him a glance and sighed, holding out the half finished can for him. Jun took it with bewilderment.
“If you’re already here, you can help me,” Jun had merely caught up with those words before he was dragged off by the wrist.
That had been how he helped the seventeen year old Nino to move out.
and now.
While doing the dishes Jun begins to talk about his day, as always. Starting from have you ever been to, did you know and have you ever tried. That he does get answers in one way or another - no, hn, naw - makes him happier than it really should. When he starts showing Nino pictures of several locations taken with his smartphone, Nino, as always, barely glances at it, unimpressed. It should discourage Jun but it doesn’t because he has sworn at early age he would show Nino all the places he himself wouldn’t go to and maybe one day Nino would say something along the lines like let’s go there together next time. But that hasn’t happened for the past 10 years so--
“What’s with that?” Nino jerks him out of his thoughts, and he follows Nino’s outstretched hand gesturing to the photo that came up, showing Jun, all clad in Alexander Lee Chang clothes, in front of a huge cherry tree.
Jun all but blushes.
and then.
Jun knew his behavior of sticking to Nino was weird in a way since indeed they weren’t related. But, Jun came to think, Nino never voiced out any objections. And Jun decided from the start for as long as Nino allows it he would continue coming. Just sometimes, sometimes he wished this growing feeling of his, this strange need to share his life with the other, would be reciprocated. But they never even talked about the issue itself, the swapping, unsettling, detangling. However, Jun assumed Nino had a fair idea why he stuck around - after all moving out so very early must meant that he had just felt as disconnected as Jun.
And strangely enough, the less Nino seemed to leave the house the more Jun grew attached to him and tried to make him. Over time he had gotten the faint feeling that he indeed was the only one trying. So maybe this was what made their relationship brother-like to some degree, Jun wondered, him nagging for Nino to do something with him.
Wasn’t this how sibling relationships supposed to be? The youngest nagging the older one? One worrying over the other? One turning to the other when lost?
and now.
Jun laughs uncomfortably, wanting to swipe to the next picture but not wanting to draw any attention to his actual discomfort of Nino seeing just that.
“Just ignore me in the picture, look at the sakura tree!” He shoves Nino, which earns him a disapproving glare and something along the lines like bruising easily. Jun just rolls his eyes before emphasizing, “look at that. It’s huge!”
Nino still looks at him funnily but leans forward, suddenly studying it so intently that Jun’s getting embarrassed. He knows why he always avoids showing pictures of his work; ever since he practically bawled in front of Nino, he doesn’t. He tells Nino about the scenery, about the people he meets, the food he eats, but never does he talk about his actual work or shows it to him.
He is close to ripping the phone out of Nino’s hands, because he is still staring, by now certainly to annoy Jun but receiving that kind of (teasing) attention from Nino for once in awhile is nice too.
and then.
Jun had turned to Nino for comfort just once and he had felt silly from the moment Nino opened the door and he could hear the other gasp despite his own hiccups.
Still, it just needed a “Jun-kun...” and he had crumbled, talking about his failure, about his insecurity if he was really at the right place when his face was so messed up, when it needed so much editing, when his limbs are all over the place - and he told him at the door because he couldn’t even keep his outburst one second longer. He had needed to vent, to tell someone. He had needed someone telling him “You are beautiful. Don’t be stupid.”
Jun had frozen mid-snuffling, not believing his ears, not daring to look up. But then he had felt a hand in his hair, ruffling affectionately, before grabbing it rather roughly to make him look up. His eyes must have been wide as saucers because Jun, even today, could have sworn Nino had blushed. But he had no time then to confirm it because Nino had slid his hand down to his neck to push him into the apartment.
and now.
After a late dinner and some more Mario he catches the first train home; he’s almost all the way to Odaiba when he realizes he lost his keys. He curses, wondering if he dropped it somewhere while already fiddling with his smartphone to call Nino if by any chance he forgot it at his place - however small the chances are since he doesn’t just leave things at Nino’s. It rings and rings and rings. It rings for the twentieth time and Nino hasn’t picked up.
That’s when he panics.
He gets off at Takeshiba Pier Station, dials Nino’s number again and again but he doesn’t pick up. Nino, who is always, always home, doesn’t pick up. He runs to catch the train back, calling and calling all the while, even until he reaches Ochiai Station again, even as he takes the stairs in a haste and knocks.
There is no answer.
There is no answer. And when there is no answer he realizes how much he needs one. How he needs to see Nino, right now, and every day after, not only out of half-brother-like relations, not because they share something untouchable, but - and this ‘but’ should frighten the hell out of him. However, what frightens him more is that there is no reply from Nino, who is always, always home.
and then.
Jun had actually never expected Nino to be considerate. Jun hadn’t exactly needed him to be. He had needed him to be there and Nino had always fulfilled that just fine.
So the words “You can stay,” had rendered him speechless.
Silence followed which Nino used efficiently for getting a second futon and cushion. Jun was rooted to the spot between sofa and coffee table. Despite the fact that he had been drained, and tired, and could barely stay upright...he could just call a taxi. Just because the trains weren’t running anymore didn’t mean he had to stay.
“Thank you,” was all he could say when Nino dumped fresh smelling bedding right in front of him.
They wordlessly moved the coffee table and settled next to each other in the one room apartment, watching TV until their eyelids grew heavy and they were surrounded by darkness and silence.
Jun wondered if he should say good night or something as the silence had stretched out.
“Jun-kun, why do you keep coming?”
Jun jerked a little, surprised by the sudden question. He turned towards Nino in the dark, frowning, “You don’t want me to?”
“Don’t answer a question with a question.”
Jun huffed, thinking. It was not like he hadn’t asked himself the same thing but there was always just one answer.
“...Because this feels like home.”
He could see Nino smile in the dark and maybe - certainly - he smiled because he thought Jun couldn’t see but he could and the smile was so wide and beautiful unlike any other smile he had been treated with, so beautiful that had Jun wanted to reach out and feel it under his fingertips.
and now.
He must have fallen asleep, at some point, because when he wakes up he finds himself within familiar four walls, the expensive Norwegian blanket Jun had bought him for his 25th birthday thrown over his form.
He calls out for Nino, relieved for a moment, a rather brief one before no reply came. He sits up hastily, his head swimming.
“Nino?” he calls again while scrambling to his feet, confused. “Kazunari?”
He searches all over the apartment but the other is not there and Jun freaks out again, heading for the door. If Nino is not inside his apartment, he must be out there somewhere, however illogical it appears to him.
He’s opening the door while getting into his shoes, ready to search everywhere without even knowing where to start when he bumps into someone who grabs him by the shoulders in order not to fall.
It’s Nino, dressed in black from head to toe.
"You...” Jun starts, staring at him wide-eyed, comically so, as he takes in his appearance. “You do go out!" he blurts out because, really, despite everything (he should ask if he’s okay, he should ask where he has been, but) it’s the thing that gets to him the most.
Nino lets him go, watching him funnily and shrugs. "I suppose I do."
Jun feels himself tensing because, really, Nino having a world outside this apartment frightens him. Nino leaving this apartment frightens him. Nino being outside of Jun’s reach...
"You fucking--" he curses, but stops. He shouldn’t and he fucking won't. After all, it is not like Nino owes him anything like an explanation. It’s not like they are related. It’s not like Nino ever tried to comprehend Jun’s worry or feelings or longing.
Well, it’s not like Jun has acted upon it, either. His shoulders sag, his anger and tension leaving his body just like that. How could he understand his sheer anxiety of Nino leaving, anyway?
and then.
Before Jun had known it Nino occupied his mind at the most random moments. Since Jun had been rather selfish when it came to visits, popping up whenever his schedule allowed it, he always made sure to bring something the other would enjoy which was explicitly hard when it came to Nino and took him a lot of pondering. So he would end up thinking about Nino at work, on the way to work, at home - always.
Up until one point he was almost convinced that his way of caring, of pondering how to delight or enlighten the other’s life was solely on his part. But then after the sleepover and the awkward morning that followed, he discovered the spare toothbrush, the extra towel, and the stock of vegetable juice in the fridge Nino never touched but always restocked.
But besides that, Nino didn’t do anything, he never did besides playing games or working on a new software extension or sleeping soundly on the sofa, scratching his belly. But he was there and he turned out to be the only constant in Jun’s life to the point that sometimes Nino felt like all Jun could have wanted and ever would want.
and now.
When he reaches home finally, there are five calls on his answering machine, all from his mother to call back, so he does - reluctantly - several days later. Several days he has not visited or contacted Nino, either.
At first they play the expected catch ball, smalltalk which assured no party of their family ties, but then, along the lines his mother mentions the death of Ninomiya-san and Jun finds himself trembling. Since he was eight, it is the first time his mother has ever mentioned Ninomiya-san. And though he hasn’t seen her in more than twenty years, he can still remember her wide smile, showing her gums, simply because Nino smiles just the same way; and he wonders if the other ever realised that.
He thanks her for the call and dials Nino’s number immediately, worried to the core. There is no reply. He curses and curses some more and just when he is about to step out again, Nino is standing in front of his door.
The sense of a deja-vu is strong; Nino is still dressed in black from head to toe.
It's so surreal to see him outside that Jun jerks back in surprise. Nino merely lifts an eyebrow at that, before squeezing past him, toeing off his shoes and floundering into Jun’s apartment as if he comes every now and then.
Jun closes the door, kind of paralyzed, and before he can even ask, Nino shoves two train tickets into his hand.
“What...”
“I thought we should make a trip.”
“A trip”, Jun repeats dumbly, Ninomiya-san’s death forgotten for the moment upon the sheer unexpected turn of events.
“Yeah, we haven’t been, right?”
Jun wants to add like never but he sees Nino’s expression, daring him to say anything on that matter when he actually went all the way out to buy it. So Jun doesn’t.
But it’s what makes Jun frown. Of course he wants to go with Nino somewhere, anywhere where he can share the experience of exploring a new place with him but he doesn’t want to force him. Really, he just nagged all these years for the sake of nagging. So he stutters a “No, I... no--Are you...”
It’s then that Nino steps right up into his personal space, tiptoeing to kiss him, making him shut up in progress. It is coming out of nowhere and Jun wonders why Nino does it with so much (fucking) ease. So he grabs him by the nape to deepen the kiss, if only to make a point but Nino practically moulds into him which makes Jun shiver from the sensation of his smaller frame pliant against him.
Well, at least that feeling wasn’t one sided.
When they finally part Jun waves happily with the tickets, muttering a “cheapskate,” when he actually reads the destination. Nino just sighs, long and defeated.
And an afterthought.
If Jun thought Nino in front of his door was a phenomenon, actually seeing Nino interact with the outside world was simply weird. Jun didn't think it would feel that strange to walk with him through the jungle of Shinjuku Station or simply ride the train next to him, but--
People are staring at them. And Jun couldn’t quite tell if it is because of Nino by his side, and that unnaturally close, or because he wasn’t walking around in his usual disguise. Then again, him stealing occasional glances at Nino told him enough - if looks could kill. It’s just that he didn’t want to take the trouble of his usual charade of sunglasses, mask, and hat with Nino finally and for the first time by his side out of sheer fear he would have thought of Jun as ridiculous. But seeing the result he shouldn’t have settled only for teardrop sunglasses after all.
He sinks down in his green car seat, kind of dazed by the craziness of smartphone cameras and high pitched screams when a hand linking with his brought him back.
He looks at Nino’s small fingers surrounding his longer ones, still stunned.
Then Nino squeezes his hand while rushing out something that suspiciously sounded like a, "don't stop coming so suddenly."
"What?" Jun asks, not quite catching up.
Nino plays with his fingers, before lifting his other hand to Jun’s face. Jun follows the movement with wide eyes, before he feels fingertips gliding over his cheekbone before Nino swiftly grabs Jun’s sunglasses off his nose only so that he could wear them himself.
Just that moment Jun can't believe that this guy is turning thirty the next month.
"Don't.stop.coming.so.suddenly." Nino repeats sullenly, which left Jun, frankly speaking, baffled.
"All right."
Nino nods, seemingly satisfied for the moment but then he turns to look out of the window, away from Jun, but he can still make out some kind of lingering, underlying dissatisfaction until:
"Can we go home now?" Nino asks, finally.
They haven’t even reached Enoshima, in fact they haven’t even left Tokyo behind yet. The sea candle is nowhere near, nor was the beach or any shirasu dish; but, hell, Jun smiles widely, yeah, they can go home any time now.
From: satsumatsu
Title: of years and days
Pairing: Matsumoto Jun / Ninomiya Kazunari
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Summary: Jun decided from the start for as long as Nino allows it he would continue visiting. Just sometimes, sometimes he wished this growing feeling of his, this strange need to share his life with the other, would be reciprocated.
Notes: Inspired by Hirokazu Kore-eda’s “Like Father, Like Son”...
I had a hard time finding my way into this fic as I wanted to fulfil your requests (in fact I started three other fics)... In the end this is what I settled with. I hope it doesn’t disappoint (too much) and you enjoy it (a little).
now.
Jun carefully browses through the stock of Kyurakudo sweets, finally deciding on the delicious looking strawberry daifuku. He pays for the delicate dessert worth every yen, and peels off the price tag on his way back to the car, only to be greeted with an amused smile by his manager.
"Buying omiyage for your brother again, Matsumoto-san?" he asks, as he folds his newspaper in half, getting ready for the drive back to Tokyo.
Jun just smiles wistfully in return.
then.
Jun never bothered to correct people's assumptions that he was related to Ninomiya Kazunari in a way; well, not a lot of people knew about him anyway, let alone his name, as he rarely mentioned his family during interviews and the like. The few who knew jumped on the brother wagon in the beginning and Jun... just had gone along with that.
It was hard to explain, after all, that they were swapped as babies and the only connection they should have had was the moment they were given back to their families after the mistake was discovered by the hospital - the moment when eight year old Jun had gotten a glimpse of the eight year old Nino with his blank face but huge eyes, the sight of confusion and fear evident in them. Jun couldn't forget that image, that moment, ever.
and now.
He lets his manager drop him off near Ochiai Station and walks the short distance to the glassy, oval apartment building, punches in the security code, greets the porter with a nod before swiftly taking the stairs up to the fourth floor.
There is no doubt that Nino would be home. He works from home and everything that has a delivery service Nino uses. He has even bribed the girl from the konbini downstairs to bring him his daily melon bread. Jun always jokes that he is close to a hikikomori to which Nino snorts in response, eyes glued to the small TV screen not far away from a bigger one, his attention never leaving the game. Jun says it as a joke but part of him is always afraid that it is just that.
He sighs, ruffling his hair before knocking. Almost instantly he hears familiar curses, a familiar thump indicating someone just bumped into something (the coffee table, most likely), and more cursing before the door opens, revealing a disheveled man in his late twenties, scratching his one ab six pack - as he calls it -, yawning an unenthusiastic "Jun-kun".
Jun smiles as brightly as he can, holding up the confectionery bag and is greeted by the next yawn and a grumpily drawn out “Should have bought curry at least.” But he leaves the door open for Jun to come in.
and then.
It had been Jun who had sought Nino out, after the initial shock, after settling and constantly unsettling; he had never gotten accustomed to his new, real family. And he had tried, by all means. It must have been due to the abruptness and finality of it all, he couldn’t adapt. Every contact with his family was cut off as if the Matsumotos wanted to make sure he would forget but even though they had tried hard to make it home for him it never felt like home after he became one of them.
And somehow, as a child he thought the only one who would understand was the other one.
So he searched, and snooped around, and years went by without any success. But he was relentless, desperate even, and then he finally managed to catch a letter by the Ninomiyas - and it was the strangest thing, thinking of them as something foreign, something he didn’t belong to anymore, even after such a long time. Tears had flooded his eyes before he knew it but he scribbled the unheard-of address down in haste, found himself boarding an unknown train to the depth of Nishi-Tokyo not many days later, walking around in the tidy neighborhood of Fussa with a self-drawn map, looking, looking, looking out.
Most probably he would have liked the smell of adventure if he hadn’t been so nervous. And maybe it had been due to his nerves that, when sixteen year old Jun finally found sixteen year old Nino, coming towards the school gates he was passing with a matching look of recognition and surprise, Jun ran.
and now.
“Did you have dinner yet?” Jun asks, after watching Nino playing Super Mario for a while. It always relaxes him to an unbelievable extent, the familiar picture of Nino’s curled up form in front of a glimmering TV screen, smashing buttons.
Nino shakes his head in response so Jun gets up wordlessly to prepare something. The sounds of Mario walking through world after world accompany him and he smiles to himself.
This.
This is the only time he feels he’s home, or the closest thing to the concept he imagined for years and years.
He sets down a serving bowl of simple pasta with two dishes not much later and serves Nino and himself a portion before tearing Nino’s game console out of his hands, motioning for the spaghetti bowl while continuing the game.
“I really don't know why you bother to come at all,” Nino murmurs between mouthfuls.
Jun just hums, making Mario jump into the lava pool which leaves Nino cringing. “Can’t even play Super Mario...” Jun laughs when the newborn Mario is all ready to try the world again and it’s mere seconds he dies in exact the same lava pool. “And we are not even related or anything.”
At the harsh words Jun just hits him over the head, unleashes Mario yet again into the game, ignoring the other’s whining.
and then.
It had taken Jun some time to gather the courage to go for a second time but he did and as he walked around in Fussa, strange thoughts of how his life would have been here filled his mind - though Jun knew the Ninomiyas might not have ended up here without the incident. But still. He passed a small fish shop and imagined himself doing groceries for his mother. He passed a small park near the school and saw himself playing catch ball with his father. And the more he wandered around, without any success at stealing a glance at the other one, the more frustrated and confused and sad he got before he finally gave up, stopping thirstily and god damn tired in front of a vending machine, throwing in a few coins before pondering on what would quench his thirst the most.
“Your stalker abilities are creepy, I hope you know that...” Jun flinched, his hair on his neck rising before he slowly turned around, facing the person he had wanted to meet the most while fearing it at the same time.
The other boy, now miraculously shorter than him, leaned forward and pressed the button for some soda and Jun watched half afraid, half amazed at how Ninomiya bent down to get the can, opening it in one fluid motion and gulping down the cold drink.
“Sorry?” Jun squeaked.
Ninomiya spared him a glance and sighed, holding out the half finished can for him. Jun took it with bewilderment.
“If you’re already here, you can help me,” Jun had merely caught up with those words before he was dragged off by the wrist.
That had been how he helped the seventeen year old Nino to move out.
and now.
While doing the dishes Jun begins to talk about his day, as always. Starting from have you ever been to, did you know and have you ever tried. That he does get answers in one way or another - no, hn, naw - makes him happier than it really should. When he starts showing Nino pictures of several locations taken with his smartphone, Nino, as always, barely glances at it, unimpressed. It should discourage Jun but it doesn’t because he has sworn at early age he would show Nino all the places he himself wouldn’t go to and maybe one day Nino would say something along the lines like let’s go there together next time. But that hasn’t happened for the past 10 years so--
“What’s with that?” Nino jerks him out of his thoughts, and he follows Nino’s outstretched hand gesturing to the photo that came up, showing Jun, all clad in Alexander Lee Chang clothes, in front of a huge cherry tree.
Jun all but blushes.
and then.
Jun knew his behavior of sticking to Nino was weird in a way since indeed they weren’t related. But, Jun came to think, Nino never voiced out any objections. And Jun decided from the start for as long as Nino allows it he would continue coming. Just sometimes, sometimes he wished this growing feeling of his, this strange need to share his life with the other, would be reciprocated. But they never even talked about the issue itself, the swapping, unsettling, detangling. However, Jun assumed Nino had a fair idea why he stuck around - after all moving out so very early must meant that he had just felt as disconnected as Jun.
And strangely enough, the less Nino seemed to leave the house the more Jun grew attached to him and tried to make him. Over time he had gotten the faint feeling that he indeed was the only one trying. So maybe this was what made their relationship brother-like to some degree, Jun wondered, him nagging for Nino to do something with him.
Wasn’t this how sibling relationships supposed to be? The youngest nagging the older one? One worrying over the other? One turning to the other when lost?
and now.
Jun laughs uncomfortably, wanting to swipe to the next picture but not wanting to draw any attention to his actual discomfort of Nino seeing just that.
“Just ignore me in the picture, look at the sakura tree!” He shoves Nino, which earns him a disapproving glare and something along the lines like bruising easily. Jun just rolls his eyes before emphasizing, “look at that. It’s huge!”
Nino still looks at him funnily but leans forward, suddenly studying it so intently that Jun’s getting embarrassed. He knows why he always avoids showing pictures of his work; ever since he practically bawled in front of Nino, he doesn’t. He tells Nino about the scenery, about the people he meets, the food he eats, but never does he talk about his actual work or shows it to him.
He is close to ripping the phone out of Nino’s hands, because he is still staring, by now certainly to annoy Jun but receiving that kind of (teasing) attention from Nino for once in awhile is nice too.
and then.
Jun had turned to Nino for comfort just once and he had felt silly from the moment Nino opened the door and he could hear the other gasp despite his own hiccups.
Still, it just needed a “Jun-kun...” and he had crumbled, talking about his failure, about his insecurity if he was really at the right place when his face was so messed up, when it needed so much editing, when his limbs are all over the place - and he told him at the door because he couldn’t even keep his outburst one second longer. He had needed to vent, to tell someone. He had needed someone telling him “You are beautiful. Don’t be stupid.”
Jun had frozen mid-snuffling, not believing his ears, not daring to look up. But then he had felt a hand in his hair, ruffling affectionately, before grabbing it rather roughly to make him look up. His eyes must have been wide as saucers because Jun, even today, could have sworn Nino had blushed. But he had no time then to confirm it because Nino had slid his hand down to his neck to push him into the apartment.
and now.
After a late dinner and some more Mario he catches the first train home; he’s almost all the way to Odaiba when he realizes he lost his keys. He curses, wondering if he dropped it somewhere while already fiddling with his smartphone to call Nino if by any chance he forgot it at his place - however small the chances are since he doesn’t just leave things at Nino’s. It rings and rings and rings. It rings for the twentieth time and Nino hasn’t picked up.
That’s when he panics.
He gets off at Takeshiba Pier Station, dials Nino’s number again and again but he doesn’t pick up. Nino, who is always, always home, doesn’t pick up. He runs to catch the train back, calling and calling all the while, even until he reaches Ochiai Station again, even as he takes the stairs in a haste and knocks.
There is no answer.
There is no answer. And when there is no answer he realizes how much he needs one. How he needs to see Nino, right now, and every day after, not only out of half-brother-like relations, not because they share something untouchable, but - and this ‘but’ should frighten the hell out of him. However, what frightens him more is that there is no reply from Nino, who is always, always home.
and then.
Jun had actually never expected Nino to be considerate. Jun hadn’t exactly needed him to be. He had needed him to be there and Nino had always fulfilled that just fine.
So the words “You can stay,” had rendered him speechless.
Silence followed which Nino used efficiently for getting a second futon and cushion. Jun was rooted to the spot between sofa and coffee table. Despite the fact that he had been drained, and tired, and could barely stay upright...he could just call a taxi. Just because the trains weren’t running anymore didn’t mean he had to stay.
“Thank you,” was all he could say when Nino dumped fresh smelling bedding right in front of him.
They wordlessly moved the coffee table and settled next to each other in the one room apartment, watching TV until their eyelids grew heavy and they were surrounded by darkness and silence.
Jun wondered if he should say good night or something as the silence had stretched out.
“Jun-kun, why do you keep coming?”
Jun jerked a little, surprised by the sudden question. He turned towards Nino in the dark, frowning, “You don’t want me to?”
“Don’t answer a question with a question.”
Jun huffed, thinking. It was not like he hadn’t asked himself the same thing but there was always just one answer.
“...Because this feels like home.”
He could see Nino smile in the dark and maybe - certainly - he smiled because he thought Jun couldn’t see but he could and the smile was so wide and beautiful unlike any other smile he had been treated with, so beautiful that had Jun wanted to reach out and feel it under his fingertips.
and now.
He must have fallen asleep, at some point, because when he wakes up he finds himself within familiar four walls, the expensive Norwegian blanket Jun had bought him for his 25th birthday thrown over his form.
He calls out for Nino, relieved for a moment, a rather brief one before no reply came. He sits up hastily, his head swimming.
“Nino?” he calls again while scrambling to his feet, confused. “Kazunari?”
He searches all over the apartment but the other is not there and Jun freaks out again, heading for the door. If Nino is not inside his apartment, he must be out there somewhere, however illogical it appears to him.
He’s opening the door while getting into his shoes, ready to search everywhere without even knowing where to start when he bumps into someone who grabs him by the shoulders in order not to fall.
It’s Nino, dressed in black from head to toe.
"You...” Jun starts, staring at him wide-eyed, comically so, as he takes in his appearance. “You do go out!" he blurts out because, really, despite everything (he should ask if he’s okay, he should ask where he has been, but) it’s the thing that gets to him the most.
Nino lets him go, watching him funnily and shrugs. "I suppose I do."
Jun feels himself tensing because, really, Nino having a world outside this apartment frightens him. Nino leaving this apartment frightens him. Nino being outside of Jun’s reach...
"You fucking--" he curses, but stops. He shouldn’t and he fucking won't. After all, it is not like Nino owes him anything like an explanation. It’s not like they are related. It’s not like Nino ever tried to comprehend Jun’s worry or feelings or longing.
Well, it’s not like Jun has acted upon it, either. His shoulders sag, his anger and tension leaving his body just like that. How could he understand his sheer anxiety of Nino leaving, anyway?
and then.
Before Jun had known it Nino occupied his mind at the most random moments. Since Jun had been rather selfish when it came to visits, popping up whenever his schedule allowed it, he always made sure to bring something the other would enjoy which was explicitly hard when it came to Nino and took him a lot of pondering. So he would end up thinking about Nino at work, on the way to work, at home - always.
Up until one point he was almost convinced that his way of caring, of pondering how to delight or enlighten the other’s life was solely on his part. But then after the sleepover and the awkward morning that followed, he discovered the spare toothbrush, the extra towel, and the stock of vegetable juice in the fridge Nino never touched but always restocked.
But besides that, Nino didn’t do anything, he never did besides playing games or working on a new software extension or sleeping soundly on the sofa, scratching his belly. But he was there and he turned out to be the only constant in Jun’s life to the point that sometimes Nino felt like all Jun could have wanted and ever would want.
and now.
When he reaches home finally, there are five calls on his answering machine, all from his mother to call back, so he does - reluctantly - several days later. Several days he has not visited or contacted Nino, either.
At first they play the expected catch ball, smalltalk which assured no party of their family ties, but then, along the lines his mother mentions the death of Ninomiya-san and Jun finds himself trembling. Since he was eight, it is the first time his mother has ever mentioned Ninomiya-san. And though he hasn’t seen her in more than twenty years, he can still remember her wide smile, showing her gums, simply because Nino smiles just the same way; and he wonders if the other ever realised that.
He thanks her for the call and dials Nino’s number immediately, worried to the core. There is no reply. He curses and curses some more and just when he is about to step out again, Nino is standing in front of his door.
The sense of a deja-vu is strong; Nino is still dressed in black from head to toe.
It's so surreal to see him outside that Jun jerks back in surprise. Nino merely lifts an eyebrow at that, before squeezing past him, toeing off his shoes and floundering into Jun’s apartment as if he comes every now and then.
Jun closes the door, kind of paralyzed, and before he can even ask, Nino shoves two train tickets into his hand.
“What...”
“I thought we should make a trip.”
“A trip”, Jun repeats dumbly, Ninomiya-san’s death forgotten for the moment upon the sheer unexpected turn of events.
“Yeah, we haven’t been, right?”
Jun wants to add like never but he sees Nino’s expression, daring him to say anything on that matter when he actually went all the way out to buy it. So Jun doesn’t.
But it’s what makes Jun frown. Of course he wants to go with Nino somewhere, anywhere where he can share the experience of exploring a new place with him but he doesn’t want to force him. Really, he just nagged all these years for the sake of nagging. So he stutters a “No, I... no--Are you...”
It’s then that Nino steps right up into his personal space, tiptoeing to kiss him, making him shut up in progress. It is coming out of nowhere and Jun wonders why Nino does it with so much (fucking) ease. So he grabs him by the nape to deepen the kiss, if only to make a point but Nino practically moulds into him which makes Jun shiver from the sensation of his smaller frame pliant against him.
Well, at least that feeling wasn’t one sided.
When they finally part Jun waves happily with the tickets, muttering a “cheapskate,” when he actually reads the destination. Nino just sighs, long and defeated.
And an afterthought.
If Jun thought Nino in front of his door was a phenomenon, actually seeing Nino interact with the outside world was simply weird. Jun didn't think it would feel that strange to walk with him through the jungle of Shinjuku Station or simply ride the train next to him, but--
People are staring at them. And Jun couldn’t quite tell if it is because of Nino by his side, and that unnaturally close, or because he wasn’t walking around in his usual disguise. Then again, him stealing occasional glances at Nino told him enough - if looks could kill. It’s just that he didn’t want to take the trouble of his usual charade of sunglasses, mask, and hat with Nino finally and for the first time by his side out of sheer fear he would have thought of Jun as ridiculous. But seeing the result he shouldn’t have settled only for teardrop sunglasses after all.
He sinks down in his green car seat, kind of dazed by the craziness of smartphone cameras and high pitched screams when a hand linking with his brought him back.
He looks at Nino’s small fingers surrounding his longer ones, still stunned.
Then Nino squeezes his hand while rushing out something that suspiciously sounded like a, "don't stop coming so suddenly."
"What?" Jun asks, not quite catching up.
Nino plays with his fingers, before lifting his other hand to Jun’s face. Jun follows the movement with wide eyes, before he feels fingertips gliding over his cheekbone before Nino swiftly grabs Jun’s sunglasses off his nose only so that he could wear them himself.
Just that moment Jun can't believe that this guy is turning thirty the next month.
"Don't.stop.coming.so.suddenly." Nino repeats sullenly, which left Jun, frankly speaking, baffled.
"All right."
Nino nods, seemingly satisfied for the moment but then he turns to look out of the window, away from Jun, but he can still make out some kind of lingering, underlying dissatisfaction until:
"Can we go home now?" Nino asks, finally.
They haven’t even reached Enoshima, in fact they haven’t even left Tokyo behind yet. The sea candle is nowhere near, nor was the beach or any shirasu dish; but, hell, Jun smiles widely, yeah, they can go home any time now.