JE/KAT-TUN- "The Art of Being YOU-tachi"
Title: The Art of Being YOU-tachi
Universe: N/A
Theme/Topic: Jin/Nakamaru friendship
Rating: PG-13
Character/Pairing/s: Nakamaru, Jin (guest appearances by Tegoshi, Koyama, Nagase, the remaining members of KAT-TUN, and Toma)
Warnings/Spoilers: Crack, AU, philosophy. AU PHILOSOPHY.
Word Count: 4,595
Summary: Parallel fic (of sorts) to “It’s a Wonderful YOU-tachi”- In a different life in a different world, we learn that some things were simply meant to be.
Dedication: (LATE) birthday fic for swtjemz
A/N: So I clearly had no idea how to fulfill this request and as a result, cheaped out and decided to do a sort-of remix of a different story I wrote earlier. LOL Hopefully it all makes sense. Or something. SORRY I SUCK JEMZ. REALLY, REALLY SORRY. HAPPY (LATE) BIRTHDAY ANYWAY! If this is just total crap for you feel free to request something else. >>
Disclaimer: No harm is meant by this!
When Nakamaru sleeps he thinks he dreams; as he drifts off at night he is sometimes (suddenly, briefly) placed in a world where senpai and juniors alike are smiling beside him, patting his shoulders and making jokes together with him, completely at ease. He knows it’s a dream because it feels like a world where he wasn’t the one who Johnny pointed to the day before KUTTIN’s formation and said, “YOU, YOU are the leader. YOU are cool.” Rather, it is a world where Nakamaru doesn’t have that kind of responsibility resting on his shoulders alone, where all he needs to do is laugh and be at ease, say what he thinks, be as he feels.
It is a world where he can go shopping with Masuda on the weekends and where Koyama teases him for being anything but cool, where no one really notices him too loudly on the streets of Tokyo when he’s out for a walk by himself. In this dream world he sometimes sees himself in ways he never imagined he would when awake; he watches himself scream on roller coasters and cry in haunted houses and forget to give celebrities their candy presents before scurrying-starstruck- out of the room.
Every time the situation is different, but every time Nakamaru sees the same parts of himself that aren’t allowed to exist when he’s awake. It’s a wonderful, small big life.
He wants to talk about it sometimes but knows it sounds crazy, instead he tells his therapist during their one hour sessions on Monday nights that in reality, he’s a person who isn’t borderline obsessed with image; he promises her that he’s not really afraid of what people really think of him either. Actually, he’s a person who likes to laugh at himself.
It’s just, it only happens in his sleep.
Sometimes he sees a stranger in his dreams too, someone oddly familiar but not all at once. This person seems to be loud and idiotic and obnoxious; Nakamaru has a strange sense of longing when he sees this person and an even greater sense of longing when he sees himself beside this person. The dream dictionary he bought says this man represents freedom to his subconscious; a part of him feels that this man is what is missing in his life and that is why he manifests in Nakamaru’s dreams.
He thinks his dream dictionary is kind of gay.
When Nakamaru wakes up from this dream world today he is pleasantly surprised to discover that he is not nearly as hungover as he was expecting to be given the amount of alcohol he had consumed over the course of the previous evening. However, he is not so pleasantly surprised to wake up and discover that the girl who he’d picked up at the club last night is still in bed next to him; he’d given express instructions to her before stuff happened that she was be gone before nine am the following morning on account of nine am being about when the paparazzi gets here to stake out his building so they can take incriminating photos of him and whoever he happens to be with at the time.
He sighs; well, he’d tried his best. The industry is tougher on starlets about one night stands than it is with the male idols who do the same thing; unfair maybe, but that’s just how it goes.
He gets up wordlessly and showers, eats breakfast; he gets dressed for work and calls his mother before he leaves to say everything is fine. After his morning routine is over and done with he stops in the bedroom doorway to regard his guest for a moment, debating on whether or not he should rouse her and sneak her out of here before he has to go or let her sleep and leave her to her own devices until he gets back. She snores softly against his blankets, curled up against his favorite pillow and looking misleadingly innocent snuggled under all that downy white. After a moment he sighs and goes to the kitchen, grabbing a memo pad and a pen and writing her a quick note. He leaves it by the nightstand; just a brief missive telling her what food he has if she wants breakfast and reminding her to please be gone by the time he gets back for both of their careers’ sakes (though more hers than his). He also makes sure to tell her to lock the bottom latch on the door from the inside before she leaves. That done, he quietly grabs his car keys and heads out the door with his hands shoved deep in his trouser pockets.
On the elevator ride down to the garage he realizes that the whole internal debate on what to do with his houseguest this morning has made him late to work again today. He sighs to himself because he knows that this means Kame will bitch about it to Toma, who in turn will fret about it for three hours before trying to talk to Nakamaru directly, the results of which will be Nakamaru getting fed up with talking halfway through the conversation because no one is really interested in his side of the story given that they all have preconceived notions about his disposition as it is. After that Toma will get that wounded expression on his face because he knows Nakamaru wasn’t really listening to what he was saying; he’ll take it as a reminder of that rumor that was floating around the jimusho a few years before about how he’s only really in the group because they’d desperately needed another name-that-started-with-a-vowel to make their unit title pronounceable in human vocabulary.
Toma being mopey means Kame gets bitchier, Kame getting bitchier means no one is allowed to be in a good mood either (except for maybe Taguchi, who just doesn’t notice the others’ moods), and the day is thus ruined even though nothing really happened at all.
Such is life.
He hopes that the feathery-haired stranger he dreams about (in completely not gay ways) is out there somewhere, living out the life of freedom Nakamaru’s subconscious is apparently longing for but can’t have.
In the meantime, he speeds a little on the way to work; five minutes less late is five minutes less that someone can hold against him in the future.
~~~~~
Jin is late for work (again) this morning and crashes down the street on his bicycle cursing to himself; he steers one-handed as he desperately tries to button up the rest of his 7-11 uniform before he arrives at the convenience store (his boss hates disheveled employees, as well as most people in general). Jin’s alarm clock had gone off right on time this morning but stupid him, he’d swatted it off the nightstand and under the bed on instinct; he hadn’t been able to hear it again after that because he suspects that there are growths down there capable of creating their own vacuum space.
He’s halfway to work when his fingers get tangled in the third button down from the collar of his shirt and when he glances at it for a brief moment to try and correct himself, he is just in time to miss the sleek black sports car suddenly rounding the corner a little bit faster than it ought to be.
~~~~~
Nakamaru manages to hit the brakes and come to a skidding halt when he sees the clown on the bike who is barreling down the street right towards him without looking, but even still, the crash is kind of inevitable given that the other party doesn’t intend on stopping himself from hitting the stationary car. Nakamaru winces as the front of the bike slams into the side of his car and the rider is thrown-shrieking at supersonic pitch-right onto the hood of his vehicle.
Nakamaru blinks, wide-eyed, as human limbs splay out all over his windshield in ways that they probably weren’t ever meant to splay out in naturally.
Oddly enough, when everything is still again, it is Nakamaru’s ears that are the ones ringing.
That was some scream.
~~~~~
“Am I dead?” Jin moans to himself dazedly seconds later, and shakes his head to clear it. Then he realizes that even though he is currently flopped on top of some fancy foreign car like a squid, he is in fact, not dead. Not yet anyway. He sits up abruptly and looks at his watch.
“FUCK,” he screeches, and scrambles off.
If he’s not at work in the next three seconds he knows that death is going to start looking like a better and better option.
~~~~~
Nakamaru is only half out of his car when the 7-11 bicyclist suddenly springs up (with a surprising amount of vigor at that), and shouts, “FUCK” at the top of his lungs like he means it.
Nakamaru freezes for a moment in panic and is fairly certain that that kind of superhuman shriek can only be reached when someone is in a lot of pain. Concerned, he’s just about to call for an ambulance when the figure hops off the hood, grabs his slightly mangled bike, and gets right back on like nothing happened.
“Wait…” Nakamaru starts, when he finds his tongue again. “You might…be dying?”
Too late, the mysterious 7-11 stunt man is starting to peddle off.
But before he’s completely out of sight, he stiffens as if remembering something and turns around to call over his shoulder. “I’m sorry! I work down the street, come back here tonight and I’ll um, pay for whatever is wrong with your car!” he bellows, feathery bits of hair plastered to his cheek by the wind as he shouts against it in his rush.
When Nakamaru sees the man’s face-or the half of it that he can actually make out anyway- he freezes again, but for entirely different reasons this time.
“Freedom Man!” he sputters, and points.
He’s not sure why, but his first instinct is to give chase.
~~~~~
When Jin realizes that there is an angry motorist now chasing him on foot-with his arms up in the air over his head and shouting no less- he slaps a hand to his forehead and peddles faster.
Reio always said that people’s first impression of him is usually an inexplicable desire to throttle him; Jin really hates it when Reio is right.
~~~~~
Nakamaru is half out of breath by the time they reach the 7-11 four blocks down the street; he sees his Freedom Man’s bike haphazardly chained to the outside railing but no sign of the guy himself (who is probably, rightfully, in hiding right now). He debates going inside and seeming like a crazy person.
On the one hand, he’s really, really late for work.
But on the other hand, he totally left his cell phone in the car. Which is probably towed by now anyway, and if his manager can’t reach him, then his manager can’t yell at him.
After a moment, he mentally shrugs and walks into the convenience store; he doesn’t really have anything to lose for the moment.
When he enters, the only person he sees behind the counter is a fat guy who kind of looks like a mole-person except more damp.
“Excuse me,” Nakamaru starts, “Where’s the men’s room?”
The fat guy doesn’t look up from his morning newspaper when he points left.
~~~~~
Jin is balancing precariously on top of a toilet seat in the very last stall of the men’s room when he hears the bathroom door open; he tightens his hold on the plunger he’d managed to grab for self-defense purposes and silently prays to whatever god is listening that the angry motorist is winded from running and thus will not have the energy to really hurt him very badly right now.
His prayers are very much not answered when his pantleg suddenly gets hooked around the handle of the toilet and it flushes.
~~~~~
Nakamaru sighs when the toilet inside the very back stall suddenly flushes, he crosses his arms and leans against the sink. “Look, I know you’re in here,” he says, “I’m not going to kill you.”
“Yeah but you’d be surprised what you can live through!” a stubborn, pouting voice shoots back instinctively.
Nakamaru blinks.
And surprises them both when he suddenly, inexplicably starts laughing.
~~~~~
Ten minutes later (after Nakamaru’s shameless use of celebrity status to tell Freedom Man’s manager that he is taking his lunch break early today), the two of them are sitting outside the steps of the 7-11 eating microwaveable bentos and feeling awkward.
“Haha… so. Your car. Expensive, right?” Freedom Man starts.
“I’m Naka…”
Freedom Man brightens a bit at that. “I know! I sell magazines with your face on it pretty much every day.”
Nakamaru blinks. “You know? You’re pretty calm, considering.”
“Well, I didn’t know it when you hit me.” Pause. “When I hit you. When I hit you. I didn’t know then, but when I came out of the toilet and I saw you I knew.” He leans forward suddenly, studying Nakamaru’s face intently. “Wow.”
Nakamaru sighs and waits for the fanworship to begin. He thinks that maybe this had been a bad idea on his part after all.
Then, “Your nose is bigger in reality than it is on TV.”
A beat.
“What?”
“Your nose,” Jin begins, lips pursing in thought, “is bigger than it looks on TV. Do they make it look smaller with makeup? Or is it a camera thing? Because right now, it’s really big.”
“I heard you the first time,” Nakamaru sputters, “That’s rude, by the way. I don’t even know your name and you’re insulting me.”
Jin blinks. “Oh.” Fidget. “Um. I’m Akanishi Jin.” No apology, just an introduction.
“Huh. Your name begins with a vowel,” Nakamaru murmurs automatically, without knowing why. It seems like the thing to say.
“Yes. I’m always first in the alphabet.” Jin seems pleased about that though neither of them is really sure why.
Silence.
“My car…” Nakamaru begins, and Jin immediately tenses up again, “Don’t worry about it.”
Jin chokes on rice. “What? But it probably cost more than my life!”
Nakamaru chuckles and absently counts in his mind that he’s laughed more times today than he has in about a month. He wonders if freedom really means saying whatever you think whenever you want and if this is why his brain mysteriously conjured up dream images of this person to associate with the word. “If I told you something would you promise not to freak out?” he begins, and decides to try this whole saying what you think thing out. Right now, it seems like it might be okay to not be too concerned with image.
Jin blinks. “I…promise I won’t freak out unless what you say is very freaky?” he offers, after a beat.
Good enough.
“I think I dreamed about you last night.”
~~~~~
Nakamaru looks sideways at Jin-who is now sitting exactly five feet away from him-and can’t even find it in himself to be insulted because the expression on the other man’s face is oddly priceless.
“Are you…”
“I’m not hitting on you.”
“Because that would be gay.”
“Right.”
Jin slumps in relief; accepts the explanation just like that. “Well, okay then. I’ve never been hit on by guys before, so I wasn’t sure. I mean, how do you even respond to that kind of thing?”
Nakamaru is about to say he’s not sure either, but a sudden tapping from the glass inside the convenience store reveals Mole Man at the window behind them; he gestures pointedly to his watch and Jin scrambles to finish the rest of his curry rice.
Nakamaru checks his watch too; curses under his breath when he realizes that it’s almost eleven. “Look, I gotta get to work.”
Jin nods, wiping his face with a napkin. “I know what that’s like.”
Nakamaru wonders when being a pop star has ever been likened to working the register at a 7-11 and decides that he likes the comparison. They probably put up with similar kinds of crap-expectant customers wanting miracles, surly coworkers, forced smiles, bad outfits, no 401k.
Bemused, he stands and shoves his hands into his pockets again, studying Jin a little more as he finishes up his meal. “Okay, again this is going to be strange,” he starts after a beat, awkwardly, “but do you think I can… come talk to you again later, maybe?”
Jin pauses. Thinks about it. “Come talk to me… in a not gay way, right?”
“Right.”
Jin shrugs. “Sure. I’m done at seven.” He gets up too, neatly depositing his trash in the wastebasket before turning to go back inside. “I can bring the booze. I get a discount.”
A grin. “Sure.”
And Nakamaru heads back to where he left his car feeling oddly refreshed.
When his car isn’t there anymore, he doesn’t even worry about it.
~~~~~
“You’re look like you’re in a good mood today,” Toma marvels when Nakamaru arrives to the jimusho in a taxi only three hours late to rehearsal. “But then again, I heard from Koki that you got lucky last night, so that probably explains it.”
“It wasn’t luck,” Nakamaru replies offhandedly, and walks past Toma into the dressing room. He isn’t talking about the girl from last night at all, but it’s okay if Toma thinks he is.
~~~~~
“How do you know a pop star?” Mole Man asks Jin sourly as Jin concentrates on restocking the shelves.
“I don’t know. Maybe he remembers me from that time I tried out for Johnny’s.”
A wet-sounding snort. “You tried out for Johnny’s?”
“Sure!” Jin says, “But I got eliminated in the first round, so I handed in my number plate and went home. At least I got to see what the inside of the building was like. It was a long time ago.”
And as he stacks cans of Vienna sausages one on top of the other, he can’t help but wonder what life would be like if he had made it in all those years ago; maybe that is why Nakamaru appeared so suddenly today, as some kind of reminder or sign or something.
“I think,” he says out loud to himself (and to the can of sausages he is currently holding), “that maybe the universe is trying to tell me something!”
He pauses then; listening intently for any more signs from the universe should they happen to be out there right now.
“Get back to work, moron,” his boss tells him instead.
~~~~~
The moment the clock in the rehearsal room strikes six Nakamaru is out the door; his bandmates watch him leave with mixed feelings.
“We’re not done yet,” Kame sighs.
“Maybe he’s not feeling well,” Toma muses. “He’s been acting weird all day.”
Koki snorts. “Maybe he’s been acting weird because he has diarrhea.” He grins like he likes that idea.
Junno laughs. “Or maybe he’s been acting weird because he’s in love.”
Junno is ignored.
Ueda checks his watch. “Does this mean we can leave too?”
~~~~~
When Nakamaru gets to the 7-11 compliments of his reclaimed car (i.e. after his manager spent the better part of the day desperately rescuing it from the city impound), it is three minutes after seven and Jin is sitting on the curb outside the convenience store with a six pack of Asahi and a bag of chips.
“Your car,” Jin starts-again- as he slides in.
“Is fine,” Nakamaru assures him. It’s getting dark so Jin probably can’t see the deep scratches on the side from where his bike had impacted with the paint, but for some reason Nakamaru kind of likes that they’re there now; it seems like something happily normal on the face of such an outlandishly impractical car.
“Beer,” Jin declares, holding up his six pack. “Chips too, but if you want to eat first my mom doesn’t mind setting an extra place.”
“It’s alright, I don’t want to bother your family. There is this restaurant I’ve kind of been wanting to go to though,” Nakamaru starts, inexplicably. “If you’re up for it.”
Jin thinks about that. “In a…”
“…not gay way,” Nakamaru agrees.
“Sure. But I’ve only got like, 3000 on me.”
“Don’t wo…” Nakamaru is cut off by the look on Jin’s face. He sighs. “We’ll just get something light.”
~~~~~
The restaurant is trendy and upscale amd Jin feels out of place in his 7-11 uniform (rightfully so). He thinks the wait staff feels the same way he does, if the way they all eye him when he walks in the doors is any indication. But when someone as famous as Nakamaru follows immediately after him and indicates that they’ll be dining together, everyone is suddenly all smiles again; the 7-11 uniform instantly becomes extremely fashionable and Nakamaru and Jin are both cordially led to a booth in the back that’s reserved for important people should they just happen to stop by.
Jin thinks that living like this must be very difficult; he prefers to know what people really think of him and for them to treat him that way too. It keeps things less complicated, and that way you know who your friends are.
Besides, fake smiling for prolonged periods of time looks like it hurts.
~~~~~
In the middle of the meal it seems that Tegoshi and Nagase show up to eat as well; when Tegoshi sees the two of them at their table he bounces right up to them and chirps, “Yo, Nakamaru, Akanishi! How’s the special tonight?” by way of greeting.
Jin stares. “How do you know my name?” he marvels, thinking this kid must be magic or something.
Nakamaru blinks; usually people try to keep Tegoshi away from him on account of the kid being infuriating.
Tegoshi just cocks his head to the side, looking confused at Jin’s query. “How do I know your name?” he repeats, puzzled. “What do you mean…”
A beat.
Then he snaps his fingers when he figures out whatever he’s figured out; “Ah, I see! I must have turned left when I should have gone right this morning,” he laughs to himself. “I knew things seemed weird earlier!” He smiles sweetly at the two bewildered older men. “Forget I said anything, ne!”
He promptly bounces back to the table he is sharing with Nagase like nothing happened; he orders the lobster.
“That kid is so weird,” Nakamaru murmurs.
Jin can only sort of nod.
~~~~~
The food ends up being overpriced and only so-so in terms of taste; Jin eats a small steak and comes out of the meal still kind of hungry. Nakamaru too, and so they run into a 7-11 (not the one Jin works in) to get more chips after that to curb the edge.
They decide to hang out at the park near Jin’s house.
Before long they are both sprawled out on their backs on top of the merry-go-round; they pop open drinks and tear open chip bags while Jin carefully explains every single reason why the grilled cornpuff snacks are way better than the spicy BBQ chips even though the spicy BBQ chips are the ones Nakamaru has promoted on TV before.
“You really gotta talk to your agent about that gig,” Jin murmurs sagely. “This is the word of the little people.”
Nakamaru chuckles. “I’ll do that.”
Is isn’t until after he’s done with his second beer and somewhere in the middle of his third that Nakamaru realizes Jin isn’t talking anymore; rather, he’s looking up at the sky intently, hands outstretched so that he can frame constellations of stars between his fingers.
“What are you doing?”
“Did you ever feel,” Jin begins, brow furrowed in concentration, “That your life should be different from how it is?”
Every day, Nakamaru thinks. He says, “What do you mean?” instead.
Jin sticks out his tongue, bites it a little and skews one eye closed for a better view of whatever it is he is focused on for the moment. “Sometimes I think my life is much, much smaller than it’s supposed to be.”
Nakamaru puts his hands behind his head and sighs. “Sometimes I think my life is much, much bigger than I want it to be,” he counters. “So quit complaining.”
Jin laughs, sits up abruptly. “Alright, then. Here, I’ve got an idea.”
He starts waving his hands in the air immediately above Nakamaru’s chest, as if herding it all over to his side.
“What are you doing?” Nakamaru looks over to the six pack; Jin has only had one so far, so this probably means he is still sober and just kind of crazy.
“I’m taking some of the bigness of your life!” Jin states, “To even out the smallness of mine. Now we’re perfectly balanced.”
He crosses his legs and strikes a meditating pose. “Can you feel it?”
Nakamaru blinks. “Feel what?”
“Balance! Are you not paying attention at all?”
Nakamaru laughs at the indignant look on Jin’s face and accidentally drops his beer over the edge of the merry-go-round.
Jin pouts. “What’s so funny?”
Nakamaru sits up. “Thanks for today,” he tells his new friend, sincerely.
Jin blinks. “I scratched your car.”
“You know, if you stopped reminding me about that I would probably forget about it.”
Jin shrugs. “I’m dumb like that.”
“Yeah, you kind of are.” Nakamaru agrees. “But I guess not bringing it up wouldn’t work in the long run; even when you don’t say anything, whatever you’re thinking is always written all over your face any way.”
Jin grins. “It’s why I don’t play poker.” Pause. “Well, I also don’t play because I don’t know how.”
A moment.
And Nakamaru is surprised at the sharp, abrupt sound of his own giggle; it’s kind of high-pitched and undignified. Very uncool.
He’s even more surprised to discover that at the moment, he doesn’t really care.
~~~~~
“Does Nakamaru-san seem nicer to you lately?” Koyama inquires in a confused sort of way to an equally baffled Toma some weeks later.
Toma shrugs. “I can’t tell. Yesterday he came up to me and said it’s annoying when I worry so much about what everyone says and that I should stop it.”
Koyama laughs, nervously. “Oh, well. Maybe it’s just me, ne.”
“No,” Toma disagrees, “the way he said it… was odd.”
“Good odd?”
“I don’t know.”
The rest of the jimusho is as puzzled as they are.
Nakamaru is learning not to care so much about that either.
~~~~~
“Do you ever wish that you were different?” Nakamaru asks on Thursday night after Jin’s shift at the convenience store.
Jin snorts and traces constellations with his hands as they look up at the sky, sprawled out together on the merry-go-round at the park. “Different but still me, right?”
Nakamaru rolls his eyes. “Never mind, dumb question.”
Jin gets an idea. “Hey, do you think there are like, other mes and yous living in other universes and they’re sitting just like we are, thinking the exact same things we are?”
Nakamaru sighs and hands Jin another beer. “Drink more,” he says tiredly. “You only seem to make sense when you’re drunk.”
“Jerk!” Jin sulks, but takes the beer anyway.
Nakamaru laughs as they finish off the rest of the six-pack talking about ridiculous things that don’t make sense; he thinks to himself that the crushing bigness of his life is actually kind of okay when it’s taken in small moments like these.
END
EDITS PLZ.
Universe: N/A
Theme/Topic: Jin/Nakamaru friendship
Rating: PG-13
Character/Pairing/s: Nakamaru, Jin (guest appearances by Tegoshi, Koyama, Nagase, the remaining members of KAT-TUN, and Toma)
Warnings/Spoilers: Crack, AU, philosophy. AU PHILOSOPHY.
Word Count: 4,595
Summary: Parallel fic (of sorts) to “It’s a Wonderful YOU-tachi”- In a different life in a different world, we learn that some things were simply meant to be.
Dedication: (LATE) birthday fic for swtjemz
A/N: So I clearly had no idea how to fulfill this request and as a result, cheaped out and decided to do a sort-of remix of a different story I wrote earlier. LOL Hopefully it all makes sense. Or something. SORRY I SUCK JEMZ. REALLY, REALLY SORRY. HAPPY (LATE) BIRTHDAY ANYWAY! If this is just total crap for you feel free to request something else. >>
Disclaimer: No harm is meant by this!
When Nakamaru sleeps he thinks he dreams; as he drifts off at night he is sometimes (suddenly, briefly) placed in a world where senpai and juniors alike are smiling beside him, patting his shoulders and making jokes together with him, completely at ease. He knows it’s a dream because it feels like a world where he wasn’t the one who Johnny pointed to the day before KUTTIN’s formation and said, “YOU, YOU are the leader. YOU are cool.” Rather, it is a world where Nakamaru doesn’t have that kind of responsibility resting on his shoulders alone, where all he needs to do is laugh and be at ease, say what he thinks, be as he feels.
It is a world where he can go shopping with Masuda on the weekends and where Koyama teases him for being anything but cool, where no one really notices him too loudly on the streets of Tokyo when he’s out for a walk by himself. In this dream world he sometimes sees himself in ways he never imagined he would when awake; he watches himself scream on roller coasters and cry in haunted houses and forget to give celebrities their candy presents before scurrying-starstruck- out of the room.
Every time the situation is different, but every time Nakamaru sees the same parts of himself that aren’t allowed to exist when he’s awake. It’s a wonderful, small big life.
He wants to talk about it sometimes but knows it sounds crazy, instead he tells his therapist during their one hour sessions on Monday nights that in reality, he’s a person who isn’t borderline obsessed with image; he promises her that he’s not really afraid of what people really think of him either. Actually, he’s a person who likes to laugh at himself.
It’s just, it only happens in his sleep.
Sometimes he sees a stranger in his dreams too, someone oddly familiar but not all at once. This person seems to be loud and idiotic and obnoxious; Nakamaru has a strange sense of longing when he sees this person and an even greater sense of longing when he sees himself beside this person. The dream dictionary he bought says this man represents freedom to his subconscious; a part of him feels that this man is what is missing in his life and that is why he manifests in Nakamaru’s dreams.
He thinks his dream dictionary is kind of gay.
When Nakamaru wakes up from this dream world today he is pleasantly surprised to discover that he is not nearly as hungover as he was expecting to be given the amount of alcohol he had consumed over the course of the previous evening. However, he is not so pleasantly surprised to wake up and discover that the girl who he’d picked up at the club last night is still in bed next to him; he’d given express instructions to her before stuff happened that she was be gone before nine am the following morning on account of nine am being about when the paparazzi gets here to stake out his building so they can take incriminating photos of him and whoever he happens to be with at the time.
He sighs; well, he’d tried his best. The industry is tougher on starlets about one night stands than it is with the male idols who do the same thing; unfair maybe, but that’s just how it goes.
He gets up wordlessly and showers, eats breakfast; he gets dressed for work and calls his mother before he leaves to say everything is fine. After his morning routine is over and done with he stops in the bedroom doorway to regard his guest for a moment, debating on whether or not he should rouse her and sneak her out of here before he has to go or let her sleep and leave her to her own devices until he gets back. She snores softly against his blankets, curled up against his favorite pillow and looking misleadingly innocent snuggled under all that downy white. After a moment he sighs and goes to the kitchen, grabbing a memo pad and a pen and writing her a quick note. He leaves it by the nightstand; just a brief missive telling her what food he has if she wants breakfast and reminding her to please be gone by the time he gets back for both of their careers’ sakes (though more hers than his). He also makes sure to tell her to lock the bottom latch on the door from the inside before she leaves. That done, he quietly grabs his car keys and heads out the door with his hands shoved deep in his trouser pockets.
On the elevator ride down to the garage he realizes that the whole internal debate on what to do with his houseguest this morning has made him late to work again today. He sighs to himself because he knows that this means Kame will bitch about it to Toma, who in turn will fret about it for three hours before trying to talk to Nakamaru directly, the results of which will be Nakamaru getting fed up with talking halfway through the conversation because no one is really interested in his side of the story given that they all have preconceived notions about his disposition as it is. After that Toma will get that wounded expression on his face because he knows Nakamaru wasn’t really listening to what he was saying; he’ll take it as a reminder of that rumor that was floating around the jimusho a few years before about how he’s only really in the group because they’d desperately needed another name-that-started-with-a-vowel to make their unit title pronounceable in human vocabulary.
Toma being mopey means Kame gets bitchier, Kame getting bitchier means no one is allowed to be in a good mood either (except for maybe Taguchi, who just doesn’t notice the others’ moods), and the day is thus ruined even though nothing really happened at all.
Such is life.
He hopes that the feathery-haired stranger he dreams about (in completely not gay ways) is out there somewhere, living out the life of freedom Nakamaru’s subconscious is apparently longing for but can’t have.
In the meantime, he speeds a little on the way to work; five minutes less late is five minutes less that someone can hold against him in the future.
~~~~~
Jin is late for work (again) this morning and crashes down the street on his bicycle cursing to himself; he steers one-handed as he desperately tries to button up the rest of his 7-11 uniform before he arrives at the convenience store (his boss hates disheveled employees, as well as most people in general). Jin’s alarm clock had gone off right on time this morning but stupid him, he’d swatted it off the nightstand and under the bed on instinct; he hadn’t been able to hear it again after that because he suspects that there are growths down there capable of creating their own vacuum space.
He’s halfway to work when his fingers get tangled in the third button down from the collar of his shirt and when he glances at it for a brief moment to try and correct himself, he is just in time to miss the sleek black sports car suddenly rounding the corner a little bit faster than it ought to be.
~~~~~
Nakamaru manages to hit the brakes and come to a skidding halt when he sees the clown on the bike who is barreling down the street right towards him without looking, but even still, the crash is kind of inevitable given that the other party doesn’t intend on stopping himself from hitting the stationary car. Nakamaru winces as the front of the bike slams into the side of his car and the rider is thrown-shrieking at supersonic pitch-right onto the hood of his vehicle.
Nakamaru blinks, wide-eyed, as human limbs splay out all over his windshield in ways that they probably weren’t ever meant to splay out in naturally.
Oddly enough, when everything is still again, it is Nakamaru’s ears that are the ones ringing.
That was some scream.
~~~~~
“Am I dead?” Jin moans to himself dazedly seconds later, and shakes his head to clear it. Then he realizes that even though he is currently flopped on top of some fancy foreign car like a squid, he is in fact, not dead. Not yet anyway. He sits up abruptly and looks at his watch.
“FUCK,” he screeches, and scrambles off.
If he’s not at work in the next three seconds he knows that death is going to start looking like a better and better option.
~~~~~
Nakamaru is only half out of his car when the 7-11 bicyclist suddenly springs up (with a surprising amount of vigor at that), and shouts, “FUCK” at the top of his lungs like he means it.
Nakamaru freezes for a moment in panic and is fairly certain that that kind of superhuman shriek can only be reached when someone is in a lot of pain. Concerned, he’s just about to call for an ambulance when the figure hops off the hood, grabs his slightly mangled bike, and gets right back on like nothing happened.
“Wait…” Nakamaru starts, when he finds his tongue again. “You might…be dying?”
Too late, the mysterious 7-11 stunt man is starting to peddle off.
But before he’s completely out of sight, he stiffens as if remembering something and turns around to call over his shoulder. “I’m sorry! I work down the street, come back here tonight and I’ll um, pay for whatever is wrong with your car!” he bellows, feathery bits of hair plastered to his cheek by the wind as he shouts against it in his rush.
When Nakamaru sees the man’s face-or the half of it that he can actually make out anyway- he freezes again, but for entirely different reasons this time.
“Freedom Man!” he sputters, and points.
He’s not sure why, but his first instinct is to give chase.
~~~~~
When Jin realizes that there is an angry motorist now chasing him on foot-with his arms up in the air over his head and shouting no less- he slaps a hand to his forehead and peddles faster.
Reio always said that people’s first impression of him is usually an inexplicable desire to throttle him; Jin really hates it when Reio is right.
~~~~~
Nakamaru is half out of breath by the time they reach the 7-11 four blocks down the street; he sees his Freedom Man’s bike haphazardly chained to the outside railing but no sign of the guy himself (who is probably, rightfully, in hiding right now). He debates going inside and seeming like a crazy person.
On the one hand, he’s really, really late for work.
But on the other hand, he totally left his cell phone in the car. Which is probably towed by now anyway, and if his manager can’t reach him, then his manager can’t yell at him.
After a moment, he mentally shrugs and walks into the convenience store; he doesn’t really have anything to lose for the moment.
When he enters, the only person he sees behind the counter is a fat guy who kind of looks like a mole-person except more damp.
“Excuse me,” Nakamaru starts, “Where’s the men’s room?”
The fat guy doesn’t look up from his morning newspaper when he points left.
~~~~~
Jin is balancing precariously on top of a toilet seat in the very last stall of the men’s room when he hears the bathroom door open; he tightens his hold on the plunger he’d managed to grab for self-defense purposes and silently prays to whatever god is listening that the angry motorist is winded from running and thus will not have the energy to really hurt him very badly right now.
His prayers are very much not answered when his pantleg suddenly gets hooked around the handle of the toilet and it flushes.
~~~~~
Nakamaru sighs when the toilet inside the very back stall suddenly flushes, he crosses his arms and leans against the sink. “Look, I know you’re in here,” he says, “I’m not going to kill you.”
“Yeah but you’d be surprised what you can live through!” a stubborn, pouting voice shoots back instinctively.
Nakamaru blinks.
And surprises them both when he suddenly, inexplicably starts laughing.
~~~~~
Ten minutes later (after Nakamaru’s shameless use of celebrity status to tell Freedom Man’s manager that he is taking his lunch break early today), the two of them are sitting outside the steps of the 7-11 eating microwaveable bentos and feeling awkward.
“Haha… so. Your car. Expensive, right?” Freedom Man starts.
“I’m Naka…”
Freedom Man brightens a bit at that. “I know! I sell magazines with your face on it pretty much every day.”
Nakamaru blinks. “You know? You’re pretty calm, considering.”
“Well, I didn’t know it when you hit me.” Pause. “When I hit you. When I hit you. I didn’t know then, but when I came out of the toilet and I saw you I knew.” He leans forward suddenly, studying Nakamaru’s face intently. “Wow.”
Nakamaru sighs and waits for the fanworship to begin. He thinks that maybe this had been a bad idea on his part after all.
Then, “Your nose is bigger in reality than it is on TV.”
A beat.
“What?”
“Your nose,” Jin begins, lips pursing in thought, “is bigger than it looks on TV. Do they make it look smaller with makeup? Or is it a camera thing? Because right now, it’s really big.”
“I heard you the first time,” Nakamaru sputters, “That’s rude, by the way. I don’t even know your name and you’re insulting me.”
Jin blinks. “Oh.” Fidget. “Um. I’m Akanishi Jin.” No apology, just an introduction.
“Huh. Your name begins with a vowel,” Nakamaru murmurs automatically, without knowing why. It seems like the thing to say.
“Yes. I’m always first in the alphabet.” Jin seems pleased about that though neither of them is really sure why.
Silence.
“My car…” Nakamaru begins, and Jin immediately tenses up again, “Don’t worry about it.”
Jin chokes on rice. “What? But it probably cost more than my life!”
Nakamaru chuckles and absently counts in his mind that he’s laughed more times today than he has in about a month. He wonders if freedom really means saying whatever you think whenever you want and if this is why his brain mysteriously conjured up dream images of this person to associate with the word. “If I told you something would you promise not to freak out?” he begins, and decides to try this whole saying what you think thing out. Right now, it seems like it might be okay to not be too concerned with image.
Jin blinks. “I…promise I won’t freak out unless what you say is very freaky?” he offers, after a beat.
Good enough.
“I think I dreamed about you last night.”
~~~~~
Nakamaru looks sideways at Jin-who is now sitting exactly five feet away from him-and can’t even find it in himself to be insulted because the expression on the other man’s face is oddly priceless.
“Are you…”
“I’m not hitting on you.”
“Because that would be gay.”
“Right.”
Jin slumps in relief; accepts the explanation just like that. “Well, okay then. I’ve never been hit on by guys before, so I wasn’t sure. I mean, how do you even respond to that kind of thing?”
Nakamaru is about to say he’s not sure either, but a sudden tapping from the glass inside the convenience store reveals Mole Man at the window behind them; he gestures pointedly to his watch and Jin scrambles to finish the rest of his curry rice.
Nakamaru checks his watch too; curses under his breath when he realizes that it’s almost eleven. “Look, I gotta get to work.”
Jin nods, wiping his face with a napkin. “I know what that’s like.”
Nakamaru wonders when being a pop star has ever been likened to working the register at a 7-11 and decides that he likes the comparison. They probably put up with similar kinds of crap-expectant customers wanting miracles, surly coworkers, forced smiles, bad outfits, no 401k.
Bemused, he stands and shoves his hands into his pockets again, studying Jin a little more as he finishes up his meal. “Okay, again this is going to be strange,” he starts after a beat, awkwardly, “but do you think I can… come talk to you again later, maybe?”
Jin pauses. Thinks about it. “Come talk to me… in a not gay way, right?”
“Right.”
Jin shrugs. “Sure. I’m done at seven.” He gets up too, neatly depositing his trash in the wastebasket before turning to go back inside. “I can bring the booze. I get a discount.”
A grin. “Sure.”
And Nakamaru heads back to where he left his car feeling oddly refreshed.
When his car isn’t there anymore, he doesn’t even worry about it.
~~~~~
“You’re look like you’re in a good mood today,” Toma marvels when Nakamaru arrives to the jimusho in a taxi only three hours late to rehearsal. “But then again, I heard from Koki that you got lucky last night, so that probably explains it.”
“It wasn’t luck,” Nakamaru replies offhandedly, and walks past Toma into the dressing room. He isn’t talking about the girl from last night at all, but it’s okay if Toma thinks he is.
~~~~~
“How do you know a pop star?” Mole Man asks Jin sourly as Jin concentrates on restocking the shelves.
“I don’t know. Maybe he remembers me from that time I tried out for Johnny’s.”
A wet-sounding snort. “You tried out for Johnny’s?”
“Sure!” Jin says, “But I got eliminated in the first round, so I handed in my number plate and went home. At least I got to see what the inside of the building was like. It was a long time ago.”
And as he stacks cans of Vienna sausages one on top of the other, he can’t help but wonder what life would be like if he had made it in all those years ago; maybe that is why Nakamaru appeared so suddenly today, as some kind of reminder or sign or something.
“I think,” he says out loud to himself (and to the can of sausages he is currently holding), “that maybe the universe is trying to tell me something!”
He pauses then; listening intently for any more signs from the universe should they happen to be out there right now.
“Get back to work, moron,” his boss tells him instead.
~~~~~
The moment the clock in the rehearsal room strikes six Nakamaru is out the door; his bandmates watch him leave with mixed feelings.
“We’re not done yet,” Kame sighs.
“Maybe he’s not feeling well,” Toma muses. “He’s been acting weird all day.”
Koki snorts. “Maybe he’s been acting weird because he has diarrhea.” He grins like he likes that idea.
Junno laughs. “Or maybe he’s been acting weird because he’s in love.”
Junno is ignored.
Ueda checks his watch. “Does this mean we can leave too?”
~~~~~
When Nakamaru gets to the 7-11 compliments of his reclaimed car (i.e. after his manager spent the better part of the day desperately rescuing it from the city impound), it is three minutes after seven and Jin is sitting on the curb outside the convenience store with a six pack of Asahi and a bag of chips.
“Your car,” Jin starts-again- as he slides in.
“Is fine,” Nakamaru assures him. It’s getting dark so Jin probably can’t see the deep scratches on the side from where his bike had impacted with the paint, but for some reason Nakamaru kind of likes that they’re there now; it seems like something happily normal on the face of such an outlandishly impractical car.
“Beer,” Jin declares, holding up his six pack. “Chips too, but if you want to eat first my mom doesn’t mind setting an extra place.”
“It’s alright, I don’t want to bother your family. There is this restaurant I’ve kind of been wanting to go to though,” Nakamaru starts, inexplicably. “If you’re up for it.”
Jin thinks about that. “In a…”
“…not gay way,” Nakamaru agrees.
“Sure. But I’ve only got like, 3000 on me.”
“Don’t wo…” Nakamaru is cut off by the look on Jin’s face. He sighs. “We’ll just get something light.”
~~~~~
The restaurant is trendy and upscale amd Jin feels out of place in his 7-11 uniform (rightfully so). He thinks the wait staff feels the same way he does, if the way they all eye him when he walks in the doors is any indication. But when someone as famous as Nakamaru follows immediately after him and indicates that they’ll be dining together, everyone is suddenly all smiles again; the 7-11 uniform instantly becomes extremely fashionable and Nakamaru and Jin are both cordially led to a booth in the back that’s reserved for important people should they just happen to stop by.
Jin thinks that living like this must be very difficult; he prefers to know what people really think of him and for them to treat him that way too. It keeps things less complicated, and that way you know who your friends are.
Besides, fake smiling for prolonged periods of time looks like it hurts.
~~~~~
In the middle of the meal it seems that Tegoshi and Nagase show up to eat as well; when Tegoshi sees the two of them at their table he bounces right up to them and chirps, “Yo, Nakamaru, Akanishi! How’s the special tonight?” by way of greeting.
Jin stares. “How do you know my name?” he marvels, thinking this kid must be magic or something.
Nakamaru blinks; usually people try to keep Tegoshi away from him on account of the kid being infuriating.
Tegoshi just cocks his head to the side, looking confused at Jin’s query. “How do I know your name?” he repeats, puzzled. “What do you mean…”
A beat.
Then he snaps his fingers when he figures out whatever he’s figured out; “Ah, I see! I must have turned left when I should have gone right this morning,” he laughs to himself. “I knew things seemed weird earlier!” He smiles sweetly at the two bewildered older men. “Forget I said anything, ne!”
He promptly bounces back to the table he is sharing with Nagase like nothing happened; he orders the lobster.
“That kid is so weird,” Nakamaru murmurs.
Jin can only sort of nod.
~~~~~
The food ends up being overpriced and only so-so in terms of taste; Jin eats a small steak and comes out of the meal still kind of hungry. Nakamaru too, and so they run into a 7-11 (not the one Jin works in) to get more chips after that to curb the edge.
They decide to hang out at the park near Jin’s house.
Before long they are both sprawled out on their backs on top of the merry-go-round; they pop open drinks and tear open chip bags while Jin carefully explains every single reason why the grilled cornpuff snacks are way better than the spicy BBQ chips even though the spicy BBQ chips are the ones Nakamaru has promoted on TV before.
“You really gotta talk to your agent about that gig,” Jin murmurs sagely. “This is the word of the little people.”
Nakamaru chuckles. “I’ll do that.”
Is isn’t until after he’s done with his second beer and somewhere in the middle of his third that Nakamaru realizes Jin isn’t talking anymore; rather, he’s looking up at the sky intently, hands outstretched so that he can frame constellations of stars between his fingers.
“What are you doing?”
“Did you ever feel,” Jin begins, brow furrowed in concentration, “That your life should be different from how it is?”
Every day, Nakamaru thinks. He says, “What do you mean?” instead.
Jin sticks out his tongue, bites it a little and skews one eye closed for a better view of whatever it is he is focused on for the moment. “Sometimes I think my life is much, much smaller than it’s supposed to be.”
Nakamaru puts his hands behind his head and sighs. “Sometimes I think my life is much, much bigger than I want it to be,” he counters. “So quit complaining.”
Jin laughs, sits up abruptly. “Alright, then. Here, I’ve got an idea.”
He starts waving his hands in the air immediately above Nakamaru’s chest, as if herding it all over to his side.
“What are you doing?” Nakamaru looks over to the six pack; Jin has only had one so far, so this probably means he is still sober and just kind of crazy.
“I’m taking some of the bigness of your life!” Jin states, “To even out the smallness of mine. Now we’re perfectly balanced.”
He crosses his legs and strikes a meditating pose. “Can you feel it?”
Nakamaru blinks. “Feel what?”
“Balance! Are you not paying attention at all?”
Nakamaru laughs at the indignant look on Jin’s face and accidentally drops his beer over the edge of the merry-go-round.
Jin pouts. “What’s so funny?”
Nakamaru sits up. “Thanks for today,” he tells his new friend, sincerely.
Jin blinks. “I scratched your car.”
“You know, if you stopped reminding me about that I would probably forget about it.”
Jin shrugs. “I’m dumb like that.”
“Yeah, you kind of are.” Nakamaru agrees. “But I guess not bringing it up wouldn’t work in the long run; even when you don’t say anything, whatever you’re thinking is always written all over your face any way.”
Jin grins. “It’s why I don’t play poker.” Pause. “Well, I also don’t play because I don’t know how.”
A moment.
And Nakamaru is surprised at the sharp, abrupt sound of his own giggle; it’s kind of high-pitched and undignified. Very uncool.
He’s even more surprised to discover that at the moment, he doesn’t really care.
~~~~~
“Does Nakamaru-san seem nicer to you lately?” Koyama inquires in a confused sort of way to an equally baffled Toma some weeks later.
Toma shrugs. “I can’t tell. Yesterday he came up to me and said it’s annoying when I worry so much about what everyone says and that I should stop it.”
Koyama laughs, nervously. “Oh, well. Maybe it’s just me, ne.”
“No,” Toma disagrees, “the way he said it… was odd.”
“Good odd?”
“I don’t know.”
The rest of the jimusho is as puzzled as they are.
Nakamaru is learning not to care so much about that either.
~~~~~
“Do you ever wish that you were different?” Nakamaru asks on Thursday night after Jin’s shift at the convenience store.
Jin snorts and traces constellations with his hands as they look up at the sky, sprawled out together on the merry-go-round at the park. “Different but still me, right?”
Nakamaru rolls his eyes. “Never mind, dumb question.”
Jin gets an idea. “Hey, do you think there are like, other mes and yous living in other universes and they’re sitting just like we are, thinking the exact same things we are?”
Nakamaru sighs and hands Jin another beer. “Drink more,” he says tiredly. “You only seem to make sense when you’re drunk.”
“Jerk!” Jin sulks, but takes the beer anyway.
Nakamaru laughs as they finish off the rest of the six-pack talking about ridiculous things that don’t make sense; he thinks to himself that the crushing bigness of his life is actually kind of okay when it’s taken in small moments like these.
END
EDITS PLZ.