JE/NEWS- "Four Times NewS Members Use their Higher Education..."
Title: Four Times NewS Members Use their Higher Education and One Time all They Really Need is a Little Common Sense
Universe: JE/NewS
Theme/Topic: N/A
Rating: PG
Character/Pairing/s: NewS
Warnings/Spoilers: crack, ooc, random, stupid.
Word Count: 2,910
Summary: Sometimes NewS members actually use their college degrees and sometimes they use them too much.
Dedication: happy birthday jain and pinkpapyrus! I am sorry this is lame and that you both have to share, but know that my love for you is greater than this story.
Disclaimer: No harm or infringement intended.
1.
When Koyama walks into the dressing room that afternoon he finds a troubled looking Yamapi already there and already hard at work; the group leader’s brow is furrowed intently as he tries (but fails) to read through a popular fiction novel during the little bit of free time they have at the moment, when they’re between meetings. Mostly Yamapi just ends up dozing off every three seconds instead, and has to keep reading the same paragraph over and over again because he can’t focus on any of the words long enough for the sentences to start making actual sense.
“Leader,” Koyama begins on instinct, when he sees Yamapi nod so violently he ends up smacking his own forehead against the book pages, “maybe you should put that down and take a nap while we wait for the others to arrive, ne.”
Yamapi blinks back at him blearily. “This is the book that my next movie role might be on if the negotiations go well,” he admits, with a small frown. “So I need to know something about it before the meeting with the director next week.”
Koyama instantly recognizes it when Yamapi holds up a used paperback version of Murakami’s Norwegian Wood. “Eh, they’re making a movie about that?” he asks, and wonders what Leader will look like going into a sanitarium. Knowing Leader, he’ll still make it cool somehow. Probably.
Yamapi nods. “I thought it would mean getting to go to Europe to shoot, ne, but there’s nothing much about Norway or even trees in it so far.” Pause. “I think. I keep falling asleep.” He looks sheepish.
Koyama laughs. “I read that book for one of my literature courses, ne. It’s not really about what the title makes you think of at all, sorry.”
Yamapi stops. “Eh,” he breathes after a moment, “so you’ve read it already?”
Koyama nods. “I wrote a paper on it too, ne. It was…” he trails off abruptly when Yamapi very passionately grabs his arm. “Leader? Are you okay?”
Yamapi just looks at him, and he’s tired enough to not care that it’s obviously a little bit plaintive.
Koyama gets it right away and pat his hand reassuringly. “I still have all my notes, so you can borrow them if you want. And my paper too, ne. My teacher drew a smiley face on it.”
When Yamapi hears that he cheers silently to himself before falling back onto the couch with an immense sigh of relief. “Koya-chan is the best,” he breathes tiredly, and finally lets his eyes flutter closed.
He’s fast asleep before Koyama can fully count to three.
From there Koyama automatically moves to cover him with a blanket; as he does he can’t help but feel a little bit pleased to realize that his literature degree finally turned out to be good for something after all.
2.
“Eh, maybe I should buy everyone’s meals for them today, ne,” Tegoshi chirps at random one afternoon, once the group has finished phoning in their delivery order to a nearby katsu restaurant during their concert tour rehearsal break. “Since Kei-chan and Ryo-tan treat me all the time I should return the favor, right?”
That decided, he puts down his psychology textbook and takes out his wallet instead, very seriously debating between using cash or credit to pay. In the meantime Koyama coos at what a kind offer that is from their Tegorin while Yamapi declares (again) that Tegoshi has indeed become a wonderful adult.
“It’s about time,” is all Shige has to say on the matter. “I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to even offer, all things considered.”
Tegoshi laughs, not offended at all by Shige’s slightly accusatory tone. “Well everyone else always seems to offer first ne. I think they all want to be kind since I’m young, and I don’t feel like I have the kind of authority to fight with them over those types of things yet.”
“I’m young too and I still have to treat you people out all the time!” Shige retorts, not buying Tegoshi’s lame reasoning for even a minute.
Tegoshi just smiles back sweetly. “That’s because Shige always acts much older than he is, ne. Since he has that adult-like aura it’s more natural to treat Shige like that instead of trying to baby him.”
Shige scowls. “Your argument isn’t fair at all. I’m only four months older than you, so why can’t I be babied a little bit too?” he demands, in a rare moment of childish wistfulness.
Tegoshi giggles and reaches out to squeeze Shige’s shoulder with his free hand, credit card ready to go in the other. “Then I’ll baby Shige for today, okay? Since I’m paying for lunch. If you want, I’ll let you have first pick of the sauces too, ne. And which cutlet you think looks bigger.”
“How cute!” Koyama laughs, “Isn’t that nice, Shige?”
Shige isn’t so sure he agrees; something about Tegoshi’s tone when he makes those offers puts Shige off automatically in that it feels like the brat is speaking to him in an even more superior way than normal. Especially in this sort of context. “I don’t want to be babied by you,” Shige ends up snapping on instinct to Tegoshi, without thinking. “I just meant in general. Like, it would be nice if say, Nishikido-kun or Yamashita-kun spoiled me every once in a while since they’re older than me and I’m just as young as you are.”
Ryo snorts from where he is doing push ups in the back. “So that time I pretended to go to the bathroom and paid for both you and Koyama doesn’t count in the magical Kato Kingdom? I see how it is.”
Yamapi also frowns. “Am I not kind enough to Shige?” he wonders to himself aloud, clearly troubled. “If he doesn’t realize the feeling behind my actions, that means I have to make grander ones for him until my feelings can reach him properly, right?”
Koyama fidgets. “I’m sure that’s not what Shige meant at all, ne,” he tells both front and back leaders hastily, before turning to Shige with big eyes that clearly scream take it back right now please.
“It was just an example!” Shige sputters. “Since you’re both older than me!”
Yamapi and Ryo just give him a look.
Shige sighs.
Thirty minutes later, he is the one meeting the delivery man at the door, wordlessly handing over his credit card to pay for lunch (and forgiveness).
And even though they’re the same age (technically), Tegoshi still doesn’t feel like he has the authority to argue with Shige about it this time either. “Shige’s so nice,” he says instead, as he eats his lunch.
“Too bad moron ruined your first attempt to treat everyone though, Tego-nyan,” Ryo says.
The youngest member frowns a little at the reminder. “Oh yeah…”
“It’s okay! Tegoshi just offering was very thoughtful ne,” Koyama hastens to assure him. “And since I was so touched by the gesture I’ll return the favor by taking Tegorin out to lunch later this week. How’s that?”
Tegoshi lights up. “Eh, really?”
“Yup!”
“Kei-chan is nice too,” he adds with a smile, while everyone but Massu ignores the Shige-who-actually-paid-for-the-food (but only because Massu is wondering if Shige is going to eat his extra ebi fry).
“How did I end up paying while you got all the credit for doing nothing?” Shige demands under his breath to Tegoshi a few minutes later, when he has given up on a peaceful meal and passed the rest of his fried shrimp on to Massu after all.
Tegoshi blinks. “Is that what happened?” he responds absently, before picking up his psychology text again and resuming his section reading on System Justification.
“Don’t ignore me!”
“I’m listening to you, Shige,” Tegoshi promises, while at the same time, turning a page in his book.
“Don’t patronize me either!” Shige adds.
“Mmm hmmm,” Tegoshi answers.
Shige bristles. “That’s not an answer!”
“Stop bothering Tego-nyan when he’s studying. Aren’t you always complaining about us being noisy when you’re studying?” Ryo barks, when he catches the two of them.
“Ryo-tan’s nice,” Tegoshi murmurs, and stops to smile at the back leader sweetly. Ryo smiles back.
And through it all, Shige feels like somehow, he’s been played.
3.
Ryo isn’t exactly sure he wants to know what is going on when he arrives to work only to find Yamapi in the middle of very vigorously oiling up his own chest. But it will bug him otherwise if he doesn’t ask, and so eventually, he gives in and gets it over with despite knowing that he probably won’t like the answer. “What the fuck is going on here?”
Yamapi smiles and rubs his hands over his abs artfully. “I did some market research the other day, ne,” he explains proudly, like those four and a half arduous years at Meiji are finally going to pay off because of this feat and this feat alone. “It was on the internet.”
Ryo’s right eyebrow darts up. “Oh really?”
Yamapi nods and keeps on oiling. “I found out that these are some of the top things our target demographic wants to see from us, ne. Giving the people what they want is a very important sales strategy, you know.”
“I’m so glad you nearly killed yourself getting a degree to figure that out,” Ryo drawls, and cranes his neck over Yamapi’s shoulder to take in the rest of the damage.
From what he can see, Tegoshi is pouting to himself miserably in the corner as he sits clothed in a very pink, very frilly Lolita style cosplay outfit, while Koyama and Shige are bickering with one another in the background because they’ve somehow been handcuffed together and (from what Ryo can hear) the key is currently hidden somewhere in Yamapi’s pants. In the meantime, Massu is sitting on the couch wearing a giant teddy bear outfit while eating manju like he can endure all the fires of hell as long as he can distract himself with food in the meantime.
Ryo’s left eyebrow decides to join its companion. “This is really what the fans want to see from us?”
“Well, there were some other things they wanted more,” Yamapi admits, as he starts to undo his belt so that he can loosen it by three or four notches and have his jeans hang off of his hips strategically, “but I found out that those things are mostly illegal to show on video. Shige said so. And Shige would know, right?”
Ryo can only imagine. “I see.”
Then, once Yamapi’s pants are exactly where he (or rather, their target demographic) wants them to be (i.e. hanging half off his ass), the group leader turns around and grabs an over-sized kindergartener’s outfit from the couch beside Massu. “Here, this one is for you, Ryo-chan!”
Ryo’s (very mature) response is to kick him in the shin.
4.
“What are you doing?” Manager-san asks cautiously during the group’s latest commercial shooting, while he and Shige are patiently waiting on the patio for Shige’s turn to put on the steady cam harness.
Shige’s nose is currently buried in an enormous book imperiously entitled “Corporate and Entertainment Law”; he stops in his reading every few minutes to circle, cross out, and then make a fresh paragraph’s worth of notes on a familiar looking stack of papers as he methodically makes his way through the text. “I’m doing my thesis work,” Shige responds absently after about a minute of silence, without looking up. It clearly means that this is important and that he doesn’t want to be bothered right now because he’s busy trying to concentrate.
Curious, Manager-san blinks and cranes his neck a little closer towards his young charge anyway; after a moment he realizes that the stack of papers Shige is working on looks familiar for a very obvious reason. “Why are you marking up your contracts?” he asks despite Shige’s go away aura, because when the talent he represents and contracts are involved, he can’t help it.
Shige sighs in a long-suffering sort of way at the question and pauses to adjust his glasses. “Because now I actually know how screwed over we got when we signed them,” he replies matter-of-factly.
Manager-san isn’t sure he likes the sound of that. “Oh really.”
“Yup.”
Shige goes back to work.
After a beat, Manager-san clears his throat again. “So… that bad?”
“Your deal too,” Shige informs him straight out. “The whole thing is substandard and at this point, obsolete.”
Manager-san thinks he would probably have been better off not knowing that.
“Don’t worry,” Shige assures him eventually, and somehow manages to look even smugger than he’d been during the promotional work for his lawyer drama last year (even though he only got like five lines an episode in that whole stupid thing anyway), “I’ve already decided that my thesis concentration will have an emphasis on contract renegotiation.”
He laughs a little to himself then, and it is a much more unpleasant and ominous sound than a fresh-faced young idol like him should ever make.
Absently, Manager-san wonders if this is why Shachou never used to let the talent go to college before.
5.
Ryo and Massu return from filming their joint segment of the Summer Time video near the end of the shooting day and find themselves walking into the middle of a heated group argument between the other members.
“The answer is yes,” Shige insists stubbornly, the only one of the four who is so adamant about his stance on the issue that he is standing up and gesticulating as he speaks. “If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, it still makes a sound.”
“Maybe you being there to hear it changes the outcome, ne,” Yamapi philosophizes. “The sound wasn’t the goal of the motion but just a by-product of your presence. That’s possible too, right? The universe is mysterious.”
“It still makes an impact!” Shige says. “Gravity pulls the tree down, the tree hits the ground, and the moment that the two objects collide there is noise. It’s just physics.”
Koyama tries to mediate. “But I think I understand what Leader means, ne. Rather than does it make an actual sound the question is just an example trying to say something else, right? The tree and the act of falling is more of a symbol than actually a tree and…falling, ne. Like, if a person tries to do something kind but there is no one there for that act of kindness to affect, then that act of kindness doesn’t really exist. Like that.”
Shige scowls. “Stop trying to make this a literary device. In cold hard facts, the tree falls. When that happens, the tree makes a noise, whether you are there to hear it or not. If you put a tape recorder in the forest and a tree falls while you’re gone, once you play back the recording you’ll be able to hear the sound the tree made when it happened.”
“I think it’s more about perception,” Tegoshi intervenes. “Say if no one could hear any sounds and everyone and everything in the world was like this, then technically no, the tree wouldn’t make a sound, right? Because there would be no such thing as sound to us in the first place.”
The others consider this. “Mmm, that makes sense,” Yamapi supposes, while Koyama nods as well.
Shige scowls. “That’s not true at all!” he continues to argue. “Just because you can’t hear it doesn’t mean it’s not there! I can’t see atomic particles but my inability to perceive them doesn’t automatically nullify their existence! In that case the fault lies in my personal limitations, not in how the universe works on a fundamental level with or without me. The same with the tree. If I’m not there to hear it it’s not the tree’s fault that no one heard the sound. It doesn’t nullify the fact that there is a sound!”
“But Tegoshi’s argument still has validity,” Yamapi presses. “Since sound is a word that people made to describe the phenomenon of hearing, ne. If they didn’t experience that, then would there be such a thing as sound?”
Shige looks more and more bothered the more his groupmates fail to see that he is right. “The sound is still there! Just because it might be called something else or is an undefined phenomenon doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist without our assigning meaning to it first!”
In the background, Ryo and Massu kind of just stare as this continues in front of their eyes; they feel a mixture of confusion and disbelief (and pity too, there’s also some pity).
“What are they talking about?” Massu eventually asks the older idol in a hushed, very cautious whisper.
Ryo twitches. “Nothing,” he says. “They’re talking about absolutely nothing.” Pause. “You want to go get ice cream or something?”
Massu grins, and at the mention of ice cream, completely forgets about trees and forests and his concern over why Shige’s whole head seems to be turning red because of them. “Okay!”
The two of them go and get ice cream together.
And they don’t come back until sometime much later, after Koyama, Yamapi, and Tegoshi have all agreed to disagree with Shige and Shige has screamed himself too hoarse to argue any more either way.
END
EDITS? SO RUSHED. LATE FOR WORK.
Universe: JE/NewS
Theme/Topic: N/A
Rating: PG
Character/Pairing/s: NewS
Warnings/Spoilers: crack, ooc, random, stupid.
Word Count: 2,910
Summary: Sometimes NewS members actually use their college degrees and sometimes they use them too much.
Dedication: happy birthday jain and pinkpapyrus! I am sorry this is lame and that you both have to share, but know that my love for you is greater than this story.
Disclaimer: No harm or infringement intended.
1.
When Koyama walks into the dressing room that afternoon he finds a troubled looking Yamapi already there and already hard at work; the group leader’s brow is furrowed intently as he tries (but fails) to read through a popular fiction novel during the little bit of free time they have at the moment, when they’re between meetings. Mostly Yamapi just ends up dozing off every three seconds instead, and has to keep reading the same paragraph over and over again because he can’t focus on any of the words long enough for the sentences to start making actual sense.
“Leader,” Koyama begins on instinct, when he sees Yamapi nod so violently he ends up smacking his own forehead against the book pages, “maybe you should put that down and take a nap while we wait for the others to arrive, ne.”
Yamapi blinks back at him blearily. “This is the book that my next movie role might be on if the negotiations go well,” he admits, with a small frown. “So I need to know something about it before the meeting with the director next week.”
Koyama instantly recognizes it when Yamapi holds up a used paperback version of Murakami’s Norwegian Wood. “Eh, they’re making a movie about that?” he asks, and wonders what Leader will look like going into a sanitarium. Knowing Leader, he’ll still make it cool somehow. Probably.
Yamapi nods. “I thought it would mean getting to go to Europe to shoot, ne, but there’s nothing much about Norway or even trees in it so far.” Pause. “I think. I keep falling asleep.” He looks sheepish.
Koyama laughs. “I read that book for one of my literature courses, ne. It’s not really about what the title makes you think of at all, sorry.”
Yamapi stops. “Eh,” he breathes after a moment, “so you’ve read it already?”
Koyama nods. “I wrote a paper on it too, ne. It was…” he trails off abruptly when Yamapi very passionately grabs his arm. “Leader? Are you okay?”
Yamapi just looks at him, and he’s tired enough to not care that it’s obviously a little bit plaintive.
Koyama gets it right away and pat his hand reassuringly. “I still have all my notes, so you can borrow them if you want. And my paper too, ne. My teacher drew a smiley face on it.”
When Yamapi hears that he cheers silently to himself before falling back onto the couch with an immense sigh of relief. “Koya-chan is the best,” he breathes tiredly, and finally lets his eyes flutter closed.
He’s fast asleep before Koyama can fully count to three.
From there Koyama automatically moves to cover him with a blanket; as he does he can’t help but feel a little bit pleased to realize that his literature degree finally turned out to be good for something after all.
2.
“Eh, maybe I should buy everyone’s meals for them today, ne,” Tegoshi chirps at random one afternoon, once the group has finished phoning in their delivery order to a nearby katsu restaurant during their concert tour rehearsal break. “Since Kei-chan and Ryo-tan treat me all the time I should return the favor, right?”
That decided, he puts down his psychology textbook and takes out his wallet instead, very seriously debating between using cash or credit to pay. In the meantime Koyama coos at what a kind offer that is from their Tegorin while Yamapi declares (again) that Tegoshi has indeed become a wonderful adult.
“It’s about time,” is all Shige has to say on the matter. “I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to even offer, all things considered.”
Tegoshi laughs, not offended at all by Shige’s slightly accusatory tone. “Well everyone else always seems to offer first ne. I think they all want to be kind since I’m young, and I don’t feel like I have the kind of authority to fight with them over those types of things yet.”
“I’m young too and I still have to treat you people out all the time!” Shige retorts, not buying Tegoshi’s lame reasoning for even a minute.
Tegoshi just smiles back sweetly. “That’s because Shige always acts much older than he is, ne. Since he has that adult-like aura it’s more natural to treat Shige like that instead of trying to baby him.”
Shige scowls. “Your argument isn’t fair at all. I’m only four months older than you, so why can’t I be babied a little bit too?” he demands, in a rare moment of childish wistfulness.
Tegoshi giggles and reaches out to squeeze Shige’s shoulder with his free hand, credit card ready to go in the other. “Then I’ll baby Shige for today, okay? Since I’m paying for lunch. If you want, I’ll let you have first pick of the sauces too, ne. And which cutlet you think looks bigger.”
“How cute!” Koyama laughs, “Isn’t that nice, Shige?”
Shige isn’t so sure he agrees; something about Tegoshi’s tone when he makes those offers puts Shige off automatically in that it feels like the brat is speaking to him in an even more superior way than normal. Especially in this sort of context. “I don’t want to be babied by you,” Shige ends up snapping on instinct to Tegoshi, without thinking. “I just meant in general. Like, it would be nice if say, Nishikido-kun or Yamashita-kun spoiled me every once in a while since they’re older than me and I’m just as young as you are.”
Ryo snorts from where he is doing push ups in the back. “So that time I pretended to go to the bathroom and paid for both you and Koyama doesn’t count in the magical Kato Kingdom? I see how it is.”
Yamapi also frowns. “Am I not kind enough to Shige?” he wonders to himself aloud, clearly troubled. “If he doesn’t realize the feeling behind my actions, that means I have to make grander ones for him until my feelings can reach him properly, right?”
Koyama fidgets. “I’m sure that’s not what Shige meant at all, ne,” he tells both front and back leaders hastily, before turning to Shige with big eyes that clearly scream take it back right now please.
“It was just an example!” Shige sputters. “Since you’re both older than me!”
Yamapi and Ryo just give him a look.
Shige sighs.
Thirty minutes later, he is the one meeting the delivery man at the door, wordlessly handing over his credit card to pay for lunch (and forgiveness).
And even though they’re the same age (technically), Tegoshi still doesn’t feel like he has the authority to argue with Shige about it this time either. “Shige’s so nice,” he says instead, as he eats his lunch.
“Too bad moron ruined your first attempt to treat everyone though, Tego-nyan,” Ryo says.
The youngest member frowns a little at the reminder. “Oh yeah…”
“It’s okay! Tegoshi just offering was very thoughtful ne,” Koyama hastens to assure him. “And since I was so touched by the gesture I’ll return the favor by taking Tegorin out to lunch later this week. How’s that?”
Tegoshi lights up. “Eh, really?”
“Yup!”
“Kei-chan is nice too,” he adds with a smile, while everyone but Massu ignores the Shige-who-actually-paid-for-the-food (but only because Massu is wondering if Shige is going to eat his extra ebi fry).
“How did I end up paying while you got all the credit for doing nothing?” Shige demands under his breath to Tegoshi a few minutes later, when he has given up on a peaceful meal and passed the rest of his fried shrimp on to Massu after all.
Tegoshi blinks. “Is that what happened?” he responds absently, before picking up his psychology text again and resuming his section reading on System Justification.
“Don’t ignore me!”
“I’m listening to you, Shige,” Tegoshi promises, while at the same time, turning a page in his book.
“Don’t patronize me either!” Shige adds.
“Mmm hmmm,” Tegoshi answers.
Shige bristles. “That’s not an answer!”
“Stop bothering Tego-nyan when he’s studying. Aren’t you always complaining about us being noisy when you’re studying?” Ryo barks, when he catches the two of them.
“Ryo-tan’s nice,” Tegoshi murmurs, and stops to smile at the back leader sweetly. Ryo smiles back.
And through it all, Shige feels like somehow, he’s been played.
3.
Ryo isn’t exactly sure he wants to know what is going on when he arrives to work only to find Yamapi in the middle of very vigorously oiling up his own chest. But it will bug him otherwise if he doesn’t ask, and so eventually, he gives in and gets it over with despite knowing that he probably won’t like the answer. “What the fuck is going on here?”
Yamapi smiles and rubs his hands over his abs artfully. “I did some market research the other day, ne,” he explains proudly, like those four and a half arduous years at Meiji are finally going to pay off because of this feat and this feat alone. “It was on the internet.”
Ryo’s right eyebrow darts up. “Oh really?”
Yamapi nods and keeps on oiling. “I found out that these are some of the top things our target demographic wants to see from us, ne. Giving the people what they want is a very important sales strategy, you know.”
“I’m so glad you nearly killed yourself getting a degree to figure that out,” Ryo drawls, and cranes his neck over Yamapi’s shoulder to take in the rest of the damage.
From what he can see, Tegoshi is pouting to himself miserably in the corner as he sits clothed in a very pink, very frilly Lolita style cosplay outfit, while Koyama and Shige are bickering with one another in the background because they’ve somehow been handcuffed together and (from what Ryo can hear) the key is currently hidden somewhere in Yamapi’s pants. In the meantime, Massu is sitting on the couch wearing a giant teddy bear outfit while eating manju like he can endure all the fires of hell as long as he can distract himself with food in the meantime.
Ryo’s left eyebrow decides to join its companion. “This is really what the fans want to see from us?”
“Well, there were some other things they wanted more,” Yamapi admits, as he starts to undo his belt so that he can loosen it by three or four notches and have his jeans hang off of his hips strategically, “but I found out that those things are mostly illegal to show on video. Shige said so. And Shige would know, right?”
Ryo can only imagine. “I see.”
Then, once Yamapi’s pants are exactly where he (or rather, their target demographic) wants them to be (i.e. hanging half off his ass), the group leader turns around and grabs an over-sized kindergartener’s outfit from the couch beside Massu. “Here, this one is for you, Ryo-chan!”
Ryo’s (very mature) response is to kick him in the shin.
4.
“What are you doing?” Manager-san asks cautiously during the group’s latest commercial shooting, while he and Shige are patiently waiting on the patio for Shige’s turn to put on the steady cam harness.
Shige’s nose is currently buried in an enormous book imperiously entitled “Corporate and Entertainment Law”; he stops in his reading every few minutes to circle, cross out, and then make a fresh paragraph’s worth of notes on a familiar looking stack of papers as he methodically makes his way through the text. “I’m doing my thesis work,” Shige responds absently after about a minute of silence, without looking up. It clearly means that this is important and that he doesn’t want to be bothered right now because he’s busy trying to concentrate.
Curious, Manager-san blinks and cranes his neck a little closer towards his young charge anyway; after a moment he realizes that the stack of papers Shige is working on looks familiar for a very obvious reason. “Why are you marking up your contracts?” he asks despite Shige’s go away aura, because when the talent he represents and contracts are involved, he can’t help it.
Shige sighs in a long-suffering sort of way at the question and pauses to adjust his glasses. “Because now I actually know how screwed over we got when we signed them,” he replies matter-of-factly.
Manager-san isn’t sure he likes the sound of that. “Oh really.”
“Yup.”
Shige goes back to work.
After a beat, Manager-san clears his throat again. “So… that bad?”
“Your deal too,” Shige informs him straight out. “The whole thing is substandard and at this point, obsolete.”
Manager-san thinks he would probably have been better off not knowing that.
“Don’t worry,” Shige assures him eventually, and somehow manages to look even smugger than he’d been during the promotional work for his lawyer drama last year (even though he only got like five lines an episode in that whole stupid thing anyway), “I’ve already decided that my thesis concentration will have an emphasis on contract renegotiation.”
He laughs a little to himself then, and it is a much more unpleasant and ominous sound than a fresh-faced young idol like him should ever make.
Absently, Manager-san wonders if this is why Shachou never used to let the talent go to college before.
5.
Ryo and Massu return from filming their joint segment of the Summer Time video near the end of the shooting day and find themselves walking into the middle of a heated group argument between the other members.
“The answer is yes,” Shige insists stubbornly, the only one of the four who is so adamant about his stance on the issue that he is standing up and gesticulating as he speaks. “If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, it still makes a sound.”
“Maybe you being there to hear it changes the outcome, ne,” Yamapi philosophizes. “The sound wasn’t the goal of the motion but just a by-product of your presence. That’s possible too, right? The universe is mysterious.”
“It still makes an impact!” Shige says. “Gravity pulls the tree down, the tree hits the ground, and the moment that the two objects collide there is noise. It’s just physics.”
Koyama tries to mediate. “But I think I understand what Leader means, ne. Rather than does it make an actual sound the question is just an example trying to say something else, right? The tree and the act of falling is more of a symbol than actually a tree and…falling, ne. Like, if a person tries to do something kind but there is no one there for that act of kindness to affect, then that act of kindness doesn’t really exist. Like that.”
Shige scowls. “Stop trying to make this a literary device. In cold hard facts, the tree falls. When that happens, the tree makes a noise, whether you are there to hear it or not. If you put a tape recorder in the forest and a tree falls while you’re gone, once you play back the recording you’ll be able to hear the sound the tree made when it happened.”
“I think it’s more about perception,” Tegoshi intervenes. “Say if no one could hear any sounds and everyone and everything in the world was like this, then technically no, the tree wouldn’t make a sound, right? Because there would be no such thing as sound to us in the first place.”
The others consider this. “Mmm, that makes sense,” Yamapi supposes, while Koyama nods as well.
Shige scowls. “That’s not true at all!” he continues to argue. “Just because you can’t hear it doesn’t mean it’s not there! I can’t see atomic particles but my inability to perceive them doesn’t automatically nullify their existence! In that case the fault lies in my personal limitations, not in how the universe works on a fundamental level with or without me. The same with the tree. If I’m not there to hear it it’s not the tree’s fault that no one heard the sound. It doesn’t nullify the fact that there is a sound!”
“But Tegoshi’s argument still has validity,” Yamapi presses. “Since sound is a word that people made to describe the phenomenon of hearing, ne. If they didn’t experience that, then would there be such a thing as sound?”
Shige looks more and more bothered the more his groupmates fail to see that he is right. “The sound is still there! Just because it might be called something else or is an undefined phenomenon doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist without our assigning meaning to it first!”
In the background, Ryo and Massu kind of just stare as this continues in front of their eyes; they feel a mixture of confusion and disbelief (and pity too, there’s also some pity).
“What are they talking about?” Massu eventually asks the older idol in a hushed, very cautious whisper.
Ryo twitches. “Nothing,” he says. “They’re talking about absolutely nothing.” Pause. “You want to go get ice cream or something?”
Massu grins, and at the mention of ice cream, completely forgets about trees and forests and his concern over why Shige’s whole head seems to be turning red because of them. “Okay!”
The two of them go and get ice cream together.
And they don’t come back until sometime much later, after Koyama, Yamapi, and Tegoshi have all agreed to disagree with Shige and Shige has screamed himself too hoarse to argue any more either way.
END
EDITS? SO RUSHED. LATE FOR WORK.