JE/NEWS- "One Thousand and One NEWS Nippon Nights" (2/8)
*****
The Story of the Merchant and the Genie (or Massu Pisses off Arashi Vol. 1)
Massu runs down the hall of the jimusho as fast as he can, late for a Tegomassu concert meeting because of a traffic accident blocking off a section of the freeway right before the exit to work. His van had been stuck in the backup for the last hour, his manager fielding angry calls from the stage design company in charge of building the sets because their representatives have been left with only Tegoshi and his bizarre (and physically impossible) ideas about floating scaffolding and magically disappearing stages.
So it is while he is in a rush to get to the meeting that the incident happens; as quickly as Massu can move, he can’t always perceive what is going on in the world around him at the same time, and as such, he doesn’t notice that Nakamaru is hanging out in the hallway with a tank full of live eels that will be used for the junior game on Shounen Club later that afternoon. Naturally, the sight of an entire container full of writhing eels draws the attention of some of the passersby in the hallways, including Ninomiya-san and Matsumoto-san, who are on their way out to lunch when they see the tank.
Matsumoto grins and whips out his brand new cell phone to take a picture for his blog just as Massu rounds the corner at top speed, because apparently Massu’s timing today is full of fail.
What follows is this:
Massu’s shoulder forcibly slams into Matsumoto’s elbow.
Of the arm that’s holding the phone.
The phone goes flying out of Matsumoto’s hand.
And then, in something a lot like horrible, horrible slow motion, the phone arcs into the air and plops right into the water with a splash, startling the already irate looking eels.
Everyone watches in horror (except for Ninomiya, who watches with an amused sort of fascination) as the light on the brand new phone slowly flickers and dies amidst the slick mass of bodies slithering around in the murky water.
“Shit,” Nakamaru says first, because he is pretty sure this won’t end well.
The sound of his voice seems to break the spell of disbelief on everyone else’s face, and Matsumoto turns to look at Massu incredulously. “You did not just do that,” he says.
Massu shrinks backwards a little bit, still slightly out of breath from running. “I…”
“Dead,” Ninomiya diagnoses, calmly. “You’re dead.”
Matsumoto nods. “He’s dead.”
Massu quavers. Nakamaru tries to intervene. “It was an accident, guys.”
Down the hallway, Massu’s manager finally rounds the corner after him, the poor man completely out of breath from trying to keep up with the speeding idol. When he sees Massu idling in the hallway instead of idoling with the design company in the meeting room, he can’t help it when he raises his voice. “Massu, what the hell?!” he demands, waving his arms and gesturing in a pointed manner to his wrist watch. “We don’t have time for this!”
Massu, suddenly remembering that he is still very late for a meeting, turns panicked, apologetic eyes on Matsumoto. “I’m sorry!” he says quickly. “I have to go. There’s a meeting, and I’m late and…”
That, at the very least, is something everyone at Johnny’s can sympathize with. Gritting his teeth, Matsumoto gives the younger man a brusque nod. “Fine. Go,” he starts. “But tomorrow, you meet me back here to get your punishment, understand? I’m going to kill you twice over.”
Massu swallows. “Tomorrow?”
“Noon,” Matsumoto clarifies. “If you don’t show you’ll regret it even more.”
“MASSU!” his manager laments, and advances on his charge, sweating, breathing hard through his mouth, and looking generally cross.
“Right, tomorrow. Noon. I’m sorry!”
Matsumoto’s only answer is to hold up two fingers and mouth “Dead,” one more time, before Massu takes off down the hallway again, silently crying to himself while his manager stumbles to a halt in front of the eel tank, bracing himself against the wall to try and get air back into his abused lungs as Massu disappears down another corner.
Meanwhile, Matsumoto, Ninomiya, and Nakamaru stare at the tank and the dead cell phone.
“You get it,” they all say to Massu’s manager, at once.
*****
Meanwhile, Massu finally makes it to the meeting, apologizing profusely as he stumbles through the door into the room where Tegoshi is standing by the whiteboard in the back, drawing horrible, incomprehensible sketches of what looks like, to Massu, a baby raccoon sprouting wings and flying over an enormous pile of exploding poop.
“And then Massu can reach out and touch the audience’s hands!” Tegoshi declares, drawing a few more sketchy lines on the winged raccoon towards the exploding poop.
“That’s me?” Massu asks instinctively, as he files into a seat with an incredulous frown.
The stage designers all turn to him, looking hopeful. “Masuda-san, we’re so glad you’re here,” they say at the same time, the relief evident in their voices. “Do you have any ideas for the summer concert stage?”
Massu manages a small smile. “I don’t know if I’ll be alive after tomorrow, ne,” he admits, as Tegoshi continues to draw on the whiteboard, doing his strange flicking-wrist technique to make the exploding poop (which is apparently supposed to represent the audience) become hairy exploding poop.
“You’ll be okay, Massu,” Tegoshi assures him without asking him what’s wrong. He adds some blob type things in the air between flying-raccoon-Massu and the exploding-hairy-poop audience (later, he will explain that they’re sparkles).
The beleaguered stage designers don’t seem to notice Massu’s distress either. “Please tell us your ideas,” they beg.
Massu sighs and sits down to spend his last day on earth talking about a fun and exciting summer Tegomassu concert that he doubts he will actually live to see.
In the background, Tegoshi absently wonders-out loud-if they can make Tegomassu jet packs.
*****
“And so, the next morning…”
“Ah, it’s been thirty minutes guys, it’s been thirty minutes!” Koyama suddenly interrupts, just as the timer on his cell phone goes off obligingly. “We have to get back to work now, ne. Everyone’s waiting for us to finish the meeting.”
Ryo blinks as he and the members are suddenly yanked back to the present time and place, right in the middle of the story.
Shige, seeing the strange eyes Koyama is giving him, suddenly nods and sits up straighter; apparently having deciphered whatever his best friend is trying to tell him in their secret best friend eye language. “Right, uh, we better get back to work,” Shige agrees firmly, even as Massu looks anxious at the lack of closure regarding his imaginary fate and Ryo looks annoyed at being interrupted.
“Well, hurry up and tell us what happened then,” Ryo demands, looking particularly at Massu. “Obviously you lived. I just want to know how.” When Matsumoto is involved, one never knows, after all.
But Massu just looks as confused as Ryo does about the whole thing. “Uh…”
Shige holds up a hand before Massu can say anything else. “Let’s get to work. If things go smoothly for the rest of the meeting, and you’re still interested afterwards, I’ll tell you guys the rest of the story on the van ride back to the jimusho, okay?”
“Okay!” Koyama, Massu, Yamapi, and Tegoshi all agree very quickly, looking completely satisfied with the offer despite the fact that at least two of the aforementioned idols are notoriously impatient when it comes to these types of things.
Ryo isn’t sure if he’s as agreeable to the terms as his idiot groupmates are, but he supposes they had better get this show on the road before they’re stuck here planning until two in the morning like they were two years ago. “Yeah, alright,” he agrees, and reluctantly stands alongside the others. “But this had better be worth it.”
Shige looks a little bit nervous at that, like he’s hedging, but before Ryo can call him on it, Yamapi reaches out and claps Ryo heartily on the shoulder, giving his friend one of those special Yamapi smiles that has the power to just kind of suck the soul and the fight out of a person all at once. “Work!” NEWS’s leader enthuses brightly, and with the hand on Ryo’s shoulder, starts herding his old friend back towards the table, where the blueprints of the Dome stages lie in wait for each of the members’ color-coded pieces. “It’s a NEWS concert, guys!” he whoops.
“Yeah, yeah,” Ryo mutters and lets Yamapi pull him back into a chair. “Stop being a moron.”
But other than calling the others a few names through the course of the day, the anticipation of the conclusion to Shige’s story apparently keeps him from being much more trouble than that.
Though, admittedly, he does throw a wadded up tissue paper at Tegoshi when Tegoshi starts talking about jetpacks again.
*****
Hours later, after all the blocking is written down and printed out and ready for actual, physical rehearsals, the weary NEWS members all climb into their shared van for the ride from the rehearsal studio back to the main offices. Luckily this time it’s only midnight when they finish, and yawning, Shige climbs into the very back of the van, expecting Koyama to follow.
Except Ryo does before Koyama can, and he doesn’t look as tired or sleepy as he ought to be.
He promptly plops down on the seat beside Shige and pokes Shige in the side. “So? How the hell did Massu get away from Matsumoto?” Ryo demands, leaning back in the seat with his arms crossed.
Shige stares at him. “Excuse me?”
Koyama, poised midway between the center seats and the back seats in sort of an awkward bend, looks significantly at Shige as he abruptly steers himself into the middle row, where Tegoshi and Massu usually settle together, leaving shotgun for Yamapi and Ryo. “Shige! Remember the story from earlier? The story with Massu and the um, the cell phone?”
Shige manages not to roll his eyes because yes he remembers the story, he just didn’t expect Ryo to remember the story when it’s just past midnight and they’d spent the last six hours tirelessly figuring out the final logistics to their upcoming concerts.
Tegoshi, climbing in after Koyama and settling in next to the eldest member, peers over the back of his seat with a grin. “That’s right ne. I want to know what happens too, Shige.”
Thus, Massu gets relegated to the front, which is a new and exciting experience for him, and as the group manager gets into the driver’s seat and starts the car, Shige sighs and says, “Really? Right now? It’s like a fifteen minute drive tops back.”
Ryo glares. “You said…”
Koyama gives Shige another, even more significant look. “Right! And since everything at the meeting went so smoothly, Shige should finish. Like he promised. Because Shige keeps his promises.”
“Shige, finish!” Yamapi and Massu both cheer from the front, and throw their arms up in the universal banzai wave without turning around because they’re good boys and buckle up properly when a vehicle is in motion.
Shige sighs. “Right. Okay. First, you two buckle up and turn around,” he tells Koyama and Tegoshi, who both grin and secretly high-five well below the seat back, where neither Ryo nor Shige can see. Shige knows it happens anyway though, because subtle, NEWS is not.
He takes a deep breath. “Anyway, as I was saying earlier, Massu was worried about his fate, but since he’d given Matsumoto-san his word, he arrived at work the next day at noon…”
*****
When Massu arrives in the hallway of the jimusho that he has resigned as the last place on earth he will ever see, he does not expect Tegoshi to already be there, waiting for him.
Massu’s first reaction is to ask, voice full of dread, “Did you ruin Matsumoto-san’s new shoes or something?”
Tegoshi just laughs and shakes his head and before he can say anything, Matsumoto storms around the corner, looking severe and sadistic and like he is going to do something awful and embarrassing to Massu like take his pants and make him walk to the nearest bus station in his underwear for a public smiting or something.
Matsumoto blinks and pauses at the unexpected sight of Tegoshi dawdling cheerfully in the hallway next to Massu; the presence of that much aimless happy puts a distinctly less menacing turn on the atmosphere than what he had been going for just now (just now being when he’d been stomping down the hallway with the Darth Vader theme playing in his head and an imaginary cape swirling dramatically about his ankles). Now Tegoshi’s here and the mood is a lot less Death Star and a lot more Hobbits-frolicking-in-Rivendell or something.
“Morning, Matsumoto-kun!” Tegoshi chirps when he sees his sempai, voice bright like bells and not conducive to vindictive hazing at all.
Though Massu does look appropriately terrified, if slightly more confused.
“Go away, I have to kill Massu two times over for what he did to me yesterday,” Matsumoto tells Tegoshi bluntly. He’s learned that you kind of have to be frank with the kid for him to get the hint, and even then, it’s a fifty-fifty odds sort of game.
“I know! I was kinda wondering if maybe I could renegotiate that,” Tegoshi offers. “We have a tour coming up, you see. And I really like singing with Massu.”
Matsumoto frowns. This must be that member-ai thing NEWS members keep throwing around without ever really defining; it’s kind of like that Supreme Court judge and the whole “I’ll know it when I see it” reaction to porn.
Massu quickly puts himself next to Tegoshi, looking hopeful. “I like singing with you too!” he answers, and the way he says it is both cute and pathetic.
But Matsumoto is, understandably, intrigued by the proposition, mostly because having Tegoshi in his pocket might be something awesome, particularly because Nino insists that the little guy is Lucifer incarnate. “What kind of negotiation did you have in mind?” he asks Tegoshi out loud, and manages to school his voice to sound uninterested.
Tegoshi beams. “Well, I was wondering if I could tell you this really embarrassing story about Shige and Kei-chan,” he begins, and apparently knows how to play to his audience. “And if you found it entertaining enough, maybe you could let Massu’s accident slide.”
Matsumoto does like having potential blackmail material to file away for future use. “I guess it’s worth a shot.” He leans back and crosses his arms. “Entertain me, then.”
Tegoshi claps to himself happily and begins his tale.
*****
The History of the Old Man and the Hind (Or the History of the Young Idol and His Bitch)
Tegoshi often calls Tinny his girlfriend, which is fair considering she gets treated better by her owner than some girlfriends get treated by their lovers, but there has been, on occasion, instances when a lively young man prefers the company of other human beings to his faithful dog, no matter how long they have been together.
One night, after a particularly gruesome work schedule, Tegoshi comes back to his apartment with Shige and Koyama in tow, the three of them sore from running after finishing an on-location episode shoot with the staff members of Soukon this afternoon. Tinny is waiting by the door for her master when the three of them stumble in, and as per usual, she immediately runs up to Tegoshi’s feet and welcomes him home.
Koyama giggles and declares that that’s cute, and Tegoshi perfunctorily reaches down to pat her head while trying to maintain balance as he toes his shoes off in the entryway. Tegoshi leans bodily against Shige as he does it, one hand tangled in Shige’s hair as Shige gingerly bends down with sore quads to unlace his shoes. “I want to die,” Shige groans, while Koyama rests his weight against the threshold.
“I want beer and food,” the oldest member says with a groan, cricking his sore neck from left to right.
Tegoshi blinks. “I have food,” he says, as Tinny runs around in circles at his feet and he has to look at her and tell her to stop, before she trips someone and they end up falling on her.
She doesn’t seem to get this though, and at his sharp turn, makes an unhappy noise before growling at Shige, turning around, and padding off.
“What?” Shige mutters, frowning. “I didn’t do anything.”
“She’s jealous! How cute!” Koyama crows, pulling off a boot. “She really is Tego-nyan’s girlfriend.”
“I am not the other woman,” Shige protests.
Tegoshi grins. “Of course not, Shige. I like Kei-chan much more as a girlfriend.”
Koyama preens, Shige rolls his eyes, and together, the three of them stumble into the living room with the intent of passing out drunk on the couch after a full day’s worth of awful marathon-style running.
Meanwhile, Tinny stakes out the corner between the kitchenette and the living room, sitting on her haunches and glaring balefully at the intruders, as Tegoshi goes to the kitchen to reheat some of the food in his fridge. Koyama and Shige sprawl out on the couch and demand beer.
“Like I said,” Tegoshi tells them as the microwave buzzes in the background, “I’ve got food. If you want beer, one of you is going to have to run to the corner store and get some.”
“You’re the host, you should go,” Shige groans, already comfortable on the couch.
“Mmmph,” Koyama echoes, face buried in Shige’s shoulder.
Tegoshi frowns. “It’s not that bad, is it?”
“It is!” Koyama and Shige tell him in tandem.
“You’re not as sore as either of us is anyway,” Shige tells him. “What, with being a perfectly fit physical specimen or whatever it is you’re always bragging about. As the most able-bodied man here, clearly you should respect your elders and go get us alcohol.”
“Alcohol!” Koyama agrees, voice still muffled by Shige’s shoulder.
Tegoshi sighs. “Do we really need beer?”
“Beer!” Koyama and Shige insist, both raising their hands at the same time.
Tegoshi hears the microwave beep as it finishes the first round of the Chinese takeout he’d ordered the night before but he doesn’t take his eyes off of the Koyama and Shige lumps currently sprawled out over his incredibly comfortable couch. He supposes that being a good host is part of becoming a good adult, and the last time he’d been at Shige’s, Shige had poured him beer and made him pasta. Plus they’re probably right, he’s probably not as sore as either of them since he actually runs on a more regular basis.
“Okay fine,” he says, “but if I’m going to get it, then you two are treating.”
Two wallets are happily thrown in his direction. He catches Koyama’s, while Shige’s goes skittering to the floor. “Drinks on Kei-chan tonight!” he chirps, before grabbing his sweater and slipping on a pair of sandals to run out with. “I’ll be back soon! Don’t drool all over my couch, ne. And try to be a little quiet, because my neighbors are elderly.”
“I dropped my phone,” Koyama murmurs, and Shige feels it when his best friend starts fumbling around absently for the phone that must have fallen out of his pocket when he’d been reaching for his wallet. “Shige help me get my phone. I think it fell under the couch. On your side.”
“Get it yourself,” Shige answers him, before turning to call towards the door. “And buy the good stuff, Tegoshi! If it’s on Koyama, you can buy the good stuff.”
“Shige’s buying next time, and I’m going to order Crowne,” Koyama tells him matter-of-factly. “And next time you drop your phone, I’m not getting it for you either.”
“You two are silly,” Tegoshi chuckles, watching them both squirm around on the couch for a moment longer before he pulls a wad of cash out of Koyama’s wallet and leaves the apartment.
The minute the door closes behind him, Tinny goes nuts.
She starts barking non-stop, coming right up to the base of the couch and putting her front paws on it, yapping as loudly as she can.
Shige groans and turns so he can look down at her, wondering if it would be unethical to bark back and scare her off.
Koyama is harboring less dark thoughts. “Tinny-chan, is something wrong?” he asks indulgently. “Do you want to come up and sit in my lap?” He pats his lap invitingly then, because of course a fit of barking means he should indulge the dog in whatever it wants. Shige manages not to roll his eyes; Koyama totally spoils Nyanta like this too, which is why Shige is convinced he should never have kids, because he sucks at discipline.
Tinny in the meantime, keeps yapping. She even reaches out to nip the corner of Koyama’s sleeve, tugging on it.
Koyama, tickled, murmurs something Shige thinks sounds like “Lassie,” and grudgingly pulls himself up off the couch. “What is it, Tinny-chan?” he asks, still in that stupidly sweet speaking voice. “Are you hungry? Do you miss Tego-nyan?”
“Shut her up,” Shige groans. “I’m getting a headache.”
Koyama gives him a reproachful look while Tinny jumps around at his feet, very clearly herding him towards the bedroom. “Yes, yes,” Koyama tells her, and heads to the hallway. “What is it? Do you want to go out onto the balcony? Maybe she wants some air.”
“Lock her out there,” Shige suggests, but only half means it at the time.
Koyama ignores him, following Tinny down the hallway; he wonders if she needs to pee or something. Do dogs have litter trays like cats do? Uncertain, Koyama follows Tinny into the bedroom, where the door to the balcony reveals a small doggie door.
Koyama frowns. “So you didn’t need me to let you out after all?” he asks her, part chastising. Then, when she tilts her head cutely at him, kind of like Tegoshi does when he wants something, Koyama’s irritation deflates. “Ah, so you just wanted company then. Okay, okay.” He pulls open the balcony door, holding it open while Tinny happily trots out beside him, into the humid summer air.
It’s warm but not too warm tonight, and after a minute, with Tinny nosing around determinedly along the balcony, Koyama supposes he might as well have a smoke, since Tegoshi definitely won’t let him do it inside. He takes a seat on the balcony floor, pulling out his cigarettes and his lighter as Tinny circles around him, looking perfectly sweet and innocent.
It is while Koyama is lighting up that he is reminded of how pets take after their owners and that Tegoshi can be as not-sweet-and-innocent as anyone.
Tinny, apparently, no longer amused by the sights and sounds of the balcony, stops in front of the balcony door, which Koyama had left just slightly ajar.
Then, right in front of him, Tinny tilts her adorable little head again, puts a paw up, and pushes the door closed.
The freshly lit cigarette in Koyama’s mouth falls out of it just as the balcony door clicks and locks again. From the inside.
Then Tinny un-tilts her adorable little head, gets up, and pads happily through the very tiny pet door, back into the apartment.
Koyama stares. “Tinny-chan?” he asks after a moment, voice very small.
Meanwhile, back inside, Shige finally finds the wherewithal to sit up on the couch, shrugging out of his windbreaker because it’s too damn hot to be wearing jackets inside. He stumbles on sore legs to the bathroom a little while after that, where he absently picks up one of the music magazines Tegoshi leaves in a little box by the door, gets on the toilet, and proceeds with his business.
There is a really interesting article in the magazine about Usher that Shige finds himself engrossed in moments later, so it’s really not his fault when he fails to notice Tinny nosing her way into the bathroom and making her way to the toilet paper dispenser to Shige’s left.
While he’s reading about making love to people in clubs, Tinny gets up on her back paws, props herself up against the toilet paper dispenser, and noses the entire roll of bathroom tissue off the fancy curved hook-thing it hangs on.
It is only when the toilet paper hits the floor that Shige notices anything amiss, and as he turns from the magazine to see what’s going on, something a lot like horror flickers across his face as he watches Tinny determinedly nosing the fallen roll of toilet paper out the bathroom door.
“Bad dog!” Shige calls after her, to no avail. “Bad, bad dog! Bring that back!”
Tinny, much like Tegoshi, is very good at ignoring Shige’s demands.
It is in those moments that Shige realizes he’d left his phone in his windbreaker pocket. In the living room.
Vaguely, he weighs the merits of screaming until the neighbors call the police or very quietly waiting here for either air-headed Koyama or self-centered Tegoshi to realize he’s even missing.
Neither outcome doesn’t look particularly promising for his pride.
When Tegoshi gets back from the convenience store down the street a few minutes later, the only one to greet him in the living room is Tinny, who barks happily in greeting as her master steps out of his shoes and back into the apartment. She runs up to his feet, preens around his legs, and is delighted when Tegoshi puts down the bags of alcohol he’d purchased on Koyama’s cash and takes her into his arms. “Where did Kei-chan and Shige go, Tinny?” he asks her very seriously. To which her response is to lick his cheek and settle more comfortably in his arms.
Tegoshi supposes the two of them must have gotten impatient or something and went home. Tinny is busy enthusiastically nuzzling at his face when he passes the kitchenette so he fails to notice that Shige’s wallet is still on the floor from where he hadn’t caught it earlier, and Koyama’s is sitting on the kitchen counter, exactly where he’d put it after he’d taken out the older idol’s cash.
Shifting Tinny to one arm, Tegoshi manages to muscle out the food he’d left in the microwave one-handed and goes to settle on the couch, planning to watch late night talk shows and eat dinner with his dog.
Fifteen minutes later, there is a knock on his door.
The little old lady on the other side is Chiba-san, the elderly grandmother whose apartment is next to his. The first thing she does upon seeing him is press a bag full of vegetables into his hand, saying that her sister sent them from the family farm in Ibaraki prefecture.
The second thing she does is inform him that there is a possible burglar (or friend of his) who is pacing around on the balcony outside. If it’s a burglar, she says, use the daikon to knock him out. If it’s a friend, then share it.
She toddles off after that, and Tegoshi goes to check out the balcony.
Where he finds Koyama, indeed pacing back and forth outside, clearly torn between pounding and screaming on the door (he doesn’t want to wake up the elderly neighbors and all that) or dying alone and abandoned on the tiny balcony of a high rise apartment in the middle of summer.
After that the two of them find Shige in the bathroom, silently glowering at the door and demanding that someone get him a freaking roll of toilet paper now, and what kind of idiot doesn’t keep a package of spares under the sink like normal people do?
Tegoshi just holds a content-looking Tinny in his arms and wonders why his groupmates are so weird sometimes.
END
*****
“And that’s the story of how Kei-chan and Shige lost to my dog,” Tegoshi finishes with a flourish, much to both Massu’s and Matsumoto’s delight.
“Man, your group is full of morons,” Matsumoto snorts, grinning from ear to ear at the thought of a toy dog beating the crap out of two grown men. “I can imagine the look on Shige’s face!”
Massu and Tegoshi are both buoyed by this reaction. “So…does that mean it was a good enough story for you to let Massu live?” Tegoshi asks right out, because he’s subtle like that.
Matsumoto stops smiling abruptly. “No way,” he says.
TegoMass both deflate a little.
The older idol clears his throat. “But maybe I’ll only kill him one time over instead of two now.”
Massu looks at Tegoshi, who shrugs. “I tried my best, ne.”
Massu sighs. “Thanks, Tegoshi.” He supposes dying once has to be better than doing it twice.
Matsumoto looms in front of them, clearly prepared to make Massu strip and do a little dance down the hallways of the jimusho to show his repentance for destroying a sempai’s precious technology.
But before he can, Koyama rounds the corner at full speed, slightly out of breath and holding a bento box in his arms. “Am I too late?” he demands, causing all three of the men in the hallway to pause and look at him.
Tegoshi gives Koyama a look.
Koyama blinks once, then straightens abruptly. “I mean! Hello, Matsumoto-kun, would you like this bento I lovingly prepared this morning? I had too much food and thought it would be nice to give this as a present to one of my sempai if I happened to see them today.”
He holds out the box, which Matsumoto eyes suspiciously. “Wow, your group really is full of morons, isn’t it?” he asks, but takes the lunch anyway. “So what’s the bargain now?”
Koyama goes to stand beside Massu and Tegoshi, feigning innocence (badly). “What do you mean, bargain?” he asks, and might be sweating a little bit, in a strange way.
Tegoshi coughs. “Er, I know! Jun-kun can listen to one of Kei-chan’s stories next! Kei-chan always has good stories, and I’m sure one of them will be entertaining enough for you to forgive Massu for the last time you want to kill him over by.”
Matsumoto is already picking through his favorite parts of the bento. He seems rather amused by their attempts to mollify him. “Fine. You have until I’m done eating this to convince me why I shouldn’t take my 400,000 yen phone out of Massu’s ass.”
Koyama lights up. “Sure! Sure I can do that!” He wrings his hands a little nervously. “How about I tell you the story about the time…”
*****
“We’re here!” their manager announces as the van pulls up to the parking lot of the jimusho. “Thanks for your hard work today, guys!”
“Uh, looks like it’s time to go!” Shige says, and stops mid-sentence in his story, much to the others’ disappointment.
Ryo particularly, frowns at him. “What, you’re just going to end it there?”
“I don’t know about you guys, but I have to get home,” Shige says, gesturing to his watch. “It’s past mid-night, you know.”
“Yeah, but you can’t just leave it there, Shige,” Tegoshi protests, around a pout. “I want to see if Kei-chan saves Massu or not.”
Ryo gives him a strange look. “But weren’t you there?”
Shige slaps a hand to his forehead as Tegoshi blinks in confusion at the accusation, before remembering that apparently, he is still in the story of the story that Shige is telling.
A moment.
Then Shige hastily throws out his hands. “Look, everyone is a little bit tired and apparently stupid when they’re tired, so how about a compromise? Tomorrow, if we all get to the rehearsal on time, and things go smoothly, I’ll finish the story during the break, okay?”
“Okay!” the others all agree quickly, and eventually climb out of the van to get to their cars and go their separate ways, each of them anticipating Shige’s next story come the following morning.
Even Ryo, for the time being, seems to have forgotten about his guitar.
*****
But the next morning, when Ryo arrives to rehearsal promptly at six, the other members can instantly tell that he remembers again from the moment he walks into the room. The dark look on his face is fierce enough to send even the sleepiest staff members in his path skittering backwards instinctively, avoiding eye-contact with the irate idol as if looking directly at him will turn them all to stone.
In particular, the PA who had ordered the dump of Ryo’s guitar ducks into a corridor in the next hallway and doesn’t appear again for a very long time. Ryo in the meantime, stomps up to the breakfast table, pours coffee, and then plops down on the couch next to a dozing Tegoshi, while they wait for the arrival of the choreographer.
Shige notices it when everyone is looking expectantly at him again.
He sighs. “So,” he begins, and puts his own coffee down, “everyone here already knows what a moron Koyama is, right? So much so that sometimes, the only way I think he’s still alive is sheer dumb luck.”
Across from him, Koyama looks vaguely insulted, but a significant look from Shige quiets any protests about Shige being mean.
Ryo just blinks at the random segue and looks up from his coffee. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Shige leans back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head casually. “Well, picking up from yesterday, Koyama decided that rather than give Matsumoto-san more blackmail material on other idols, he’d try and charm him with regards to what a nice person Massu is. The story he told goes like this…”
*****
The History of the Old Man and the Black Dogs (Or Koyama is Too Nice)
Koyama has never been the kind of person to let fame get to his head, mostly because fame is relative and he wouldn’t really consider himself particularly famous as one of the many faces in NEWS, and also because he gets made fun of too often to have any sort of self-image that doesn’t involve very embarrassing things happening to him on a constant basis. As such, even as an idol and a college student, he finds himself, on the days when he has the time, helping his mom out at the ramen shop, particularly on the late nights in the middle of the week when their regulars come in to avoid the rush of fangirls and tourists to get a bowl of Koyama’s mother’s home cooking.
As Koyama is wiping down the counter on one of these particularly slow evenings, the bell above the door rings suddenly, signaling a new arrival. When he looks up to greet the customer in the doorway the face he sees looking back at his is a familiar one, though a bit more haggard and worn than it had been the last time he’d seen it.
It’s his high school classmate whose name is also Koyama; he remembers the other boy well because their JET ALT always joked that they seemed well-suited to be brothers, despite the fact that they hadn’t talked very much and were involved in completely different activities in class and after school. The joke must have stemmed from an American sense of humor or something.
“Tarou-kun!” Koyama greets, because they’d long ago decided that when it came to the two of them, first names would be necessary.
“Hey, Kei-kun,” Tarou greets, and comes in from the cold with a tired, hunched over gate. “I didn’t expect to see you working tonight. Aren’t you a world-famous movie star now or something?”
Koyama laughs and offers his old classmate a seat at the counter. “I’m just filling in while my mom goes out to buy more green onions ne,” he explains. “How are you?”
“I’ve been better,” Tarou answers, and despite the two of them not speaking to each other in years, Koyama easily finds himself leaning forward in concern, brow furrowed.
“What’s the matter?” he asks, and goes to get his classmate something warm to drink to stave off the chill from outside that seems to have followed him in. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Tarou frowns after a moment, then sighs at the look of genuine worry in the other man’s eyes, slumping forward against the counter with a huff. “Well,” he says, and gratefully accepts the cup of tea Koyama pours for him, “There was a business a friend and I wanted to start overseas, but I just found out today that I’m short the total amount we would need for the initial investment.”
Koyama lets himself sit down and listen to his classmate since there are no other customers in the shop yet, and finds out from Tarou-kun’s story that it has always been his lifelong dream to own his own business and build it from the ground up; he gets a starry-eyed look on his face when he talks about the general light-handedness the government in Hong Kong takes towards new business ventures, the laws there designed to help merchants flourish in the open market system much more than they do in Japan.
Koyama likes the bright look on his friend’s face when he talks about the possibilities, and before he can quite think about it, asks, “How much more money do you need?”
Tarou’s shoulders slump. “About one hundred thousand yen,” he admits. “I thought the bank would loan me the difference, but apparently I don’t have enough liquefiable assets or something. I guess I just don’t have that kind of luck.” He sighs heavily and puts the teacup back on the table before offering Koyama a miserable smile. “If it keeps going like this I’ll have to give up and take that job my brother offered me on his farm.”
Koyama, in that moment, realizes (not for the first time) that he is an idol, doing a job he loves and making a good amount of money. He knows that he, unlike a lot of young people his own age in this shaky economy, has some pretty solid job security. He even has savings, sitting nice and pretty in the bank from jobs he’d taken over the years, his mother saving it up for him since he was sixteen because she didn’t want him spending it frivolously like any teenager otherwise would, on gadgets and clothes and too many fancy things that he wouldn’t ever need.
But now that he is grown he’s in charge of his own affairs, and as he sits there listening to a young man his own age already talking about giving up on dreams because he doesn’t have the means to pursue them, Koyama’s naturally generous heart gives an empathetic lurch. Before he knows what he’s doing, he finds himself patting Tarou-kun on the arm and saying, “I can loan you the rest of the money.”
Tarou-kun is at first, hesitant to take it, but on Koyama’s insistence he very soon becomes overjoyed, and the two old classmates end up spending the rest of the evening talking about Tarou-kun’s plans and the business of handing over the money.
Koyama arranges the bank transfer just before morning and sees a much happier Tarou-kun off, feeling glad that in his life, he has been given the opportunity to do something he loves: make other people happy.
Some months later, Tarou-kun once again stumbles into the doors of the Koyama family’s ramen restaurant, and far from being the wealthy, successful business owner Koyama had expected to see, he notices that his friend is really quite haggard, with a lost, ghostly expression on his face.
“What’s wrong?” Koyama immediately asks, and Tarou-kun falls to the idol’s feet at the question, sobbing and begging for forgiveness.
“I’m sorry, but all the money’s gone,” Tarou-kun explains, eyes full of remorse as Koyama pulls him off of the floor and into a nearby booth.
Koyama blinks. “But when you e-mailed me last month you said everything was going well.”
Tarou folds his face into his hands and heaves a great sigh. “My mother,” he explains. “My mother got sick and I had to put all of my resources into her hospital bills.”
When Koyama hears that his heart immediately goes out to his former classmate and the issue of the lost money is wiped from his mind of any importance. “Is she okay? What’s wrong?” he asks.
Tarou just shakes his head. “She’s very sick, in a hospital in America, and I just found out today that I don’t have enough to cover her bills for the next month. I don’t even have enough to find a meal for today!”
Koyama sees that the other man is on the verge of tears and almost feels like crying himself; the thought of being without the means to take care of his own mother makes him sick to his stomach, and full of sympathy, Koyama gets him a free bowl of ramen and asks how much is needed for Tarou-kun’s mother this month.
“Five thousand US dollars,” Tarou laments, around a mouthful of steaming ramen. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, Kei-kun.”
Koyama of course, has since brought the balance on his own account back up again, from working hard on TV and on the stage and by investing and spending wisely (mostly from taking the advice of some of his wiser, older contacts in the entertainment world). Five thousand US dollars is a lot but not that much, and Koyama knows that if it was his mother who needed it, he would resort to anything to get it. Images of Tarou-kun robbing banks, dealing drugs, gambling, and working himself to death all assault Koyama’s thoughts like a drama-montage, and without missing a beat, Koyama says he’ll give Tarou-kun the money to pay his mother’s hospital bills.
Tarou-kun immediately perks up. “Really? Kei-kun, you’ve been too good to me!”
Koyama shakes his head. “John-san at school always thought we were brothers right? So let me treat you like a brother today.”
He pulls out his cell phone and arranges another bank transfer to Tarou-kun on it for a little over five thousand US dollars, just in case something else comes up. He also tells the other man that if he needs food, Koyama will always be happy to treat him to lunch.
They part ways after that, Tarou-kun effusive in his thanks and praises for Koyama’s kindness, and Koyama glad to be able to help.
He doesn’t hear from Tarou-kun again for another three months.
When he does Tarou-kun arrives at Koyama’s house with a friend in tow, a well-dressed Chinese man whose Japanese is difficult to understand but who smiles a lot and likes the beer Koyama serves him, even though it’s just out of his fridge because he hadn’t been expecting any other guests besides Tarou-kun tonight.
The two men sit on Koyama’s couch and drink his beer and talk about the possibility of opening a recycling plant in China within the next few months, and how they just need a few more investors before they can get their idea up and running.
Koyama wants to ask Tarou-kun about his mother but his guests are talking so quickly and so enthusiastically he doesn’t have the heart to interrupt them; in fact, he even gets carried away by their vision of making the world a greener, healthier place to live, starting first, with one of the most polluted places in the world. Koyama of course, wants to do his part, and before he quite knows what is happening, his cell phone is out again and he is trying to remember how much money he’d made on his last investments and jobs so that he can transfer over a decent amount out to help his friends improve the world.
Tarou-kun and Zhao-san are extremely grateful by his generosity of course, and quite before Koyama can say anything else, like inquire about how Tarou-kun’s family is doing and whether or not he is still paying his mother’s hospital bills, he finds his two guests in a hurry to leave, Tarou-kun exclaiming that he hadn’t realized it had gotten so late and that Kei-kun must have work early tomorrow or something, because idols always seem to have things to do.
Koyama, touched by his friend’s concern, doesn’t mention that he doesn’t have anything in particular to do tomorrow, and before long, Tarou-kun and Zhao-san are out the door, bowing in gratitude to their new benefactor and promising many grand returns for Koyama’s investments within the next year.
Koyama sees them off with smiles and well-wishes and in the next few months, gets so busy with work that he completely forgets about the recycling plant in China altogether.
It isn’t until the following summer that the issue of Tarou-kun comes up again; Koyama gets a call from his old classmate asking if they can meet as soon as physically possible, because he needs to talk to Koyama about something very important that can’t wait very long.
Koyama, who is currently planning to meet Massu and Shige for lunch later to treat them for their birthdays, supposes that he can meet Tarou-kun beforehand if it’s so important; he obligingly schedules to meet with them near the restaurant he is planning on going to later and hopes that everything is all right with the recycling plant, the environment in China, and poor Tarou-kun’s mother.
And so he arrives at a little café a few blocks from the nice sushi place he had scouted out to take Shige and Massu to; much to his relief Tarou-kun looks fine and Zhao-san even looks like he’s gained some weight.
“Kei-kun!” Tarou-kun shouts when he sees him, and stands up, waving enthusiastically. Koyama notices that his former classmate is in a crisp white suit like he’s right out of a Miami-set music video; it must mean, he reasons, that the recycling business in China is extremely successful. Why else would anyone have the confidence to wear that sort of outfit in public?
Koyama approaches them and shakes both of their hands before taking a seat; he orders an iced-tea but no food, because he’s really looking forward to sushi with Massu and Shige.
“So what did you need to talk to me about?” he asks after his tea comes, and can’t help but think that maybe he should buy himself an all-white suit too. “Is the recycling company in China doing well?”
Tarou-kun’s smile is huge. “Tanked two months ago, but we managed to bail before we lost everything,” the other man explains with an unworried wave of his hand. “Apparently recycling in China is too much work.”
Koyama frowns. “That’s too bad,” he says, feeling disappointment on behalf of the planet in his heart. But on the other hand, he is glad that Tarou-kun doesn’t seem to be destitute again, or miserable. In fact, his old classmate looks downright cheery. Zhao-san, mysterious as ever, sits behind a pair of dark sunglasses in a gray suit and eats a Panini.
“Forget about recycling,” Tarou-kun says hastily. “What we want to talk to you about next is bikinis.”
Koyama blinks. “Bikinis?”
A nod. “Bikinis. Zhao-san even helped me put this presentation together for you.”
Koyama looks hesitant. “A whole presentation? I told you I have somewhere to go in less than an hour, Tarou-kun.”
Another dismissive wave. “Don’t worry, don’t worry, it’s fast, it’s brilliant, and all you have to do is get your bank transfer ready. Are you ready?” He reaches out to grasp Koyama by the shoulders. “The bikini business in Canada is, at this moment, basically nonexistent. Which means if we get in, there will be zero competition.”
Koyama stares. “Isn’t it really cold in Canada?” he asks politely, after a beat.
Zhao-san, who is taking a bunch of papers out of a briefcase, just grins. “Think outside the box,” he says in broken Japanese, and hands Koyama several brightly colored folders.
They look like they had been a lot of work to put together, so Koyama manages a weak smile and politely takes them. Tarou-kun and Zhao-san share a triumphant smile.
Forty-nine minutes later, Koyama still doesn’t really get it, and he already has two text messages from Shige saying he’s a little bit early because traffic hadn’t been as bad as he’d expected it to be on the way here.
“Uh, I have to go soon, so can’t you call me about this a little bit later?” Koyama asks eventually, while Tarou-kun is in the middle of waxing poetic about how no one else has been clever enough to come up with a business like this in Canada, which apparently has tons of beaches.
In his pocket, Koyama’s phone buzzes again, and this time it is Massu, saying he’s already at the restaurant, because he is looking forward to lunch lots. He also asks if maybe they all could go shopping together afterwards.
Koyama starts to sweat a little. “Tarou-kun, I really have to go,” he explains. “I have to get to this restaurant in about ten minutes to meet my friends…”
Tarou-kun, unperturbed by this information, happily stands up. “No problem,” he says obligingly, and nods to Zhao-san, who starts packing up his files.
Koyama sighs in relief. “Thanks.”
“We’ll just come with you,” Tarou-kun adds, and before Koyama can think of anything polite to say about how they can’t, he has two eager businessmen all packed up and staring at him expectantly.
He sighs in defeat-too nice to say anything-and hopes that Shige and Massu won’t mind a little extra company.
As it turns out, Shige and Massu don’t mind that there are extra guests at their birthday lunch, because like Koyama, they’re nice guys and they like making new friends.
What Shige does mind however, is that these extra guests are incredibly fishy. Even Massu, with his strange animal-like instincts, reflexively finds himself shying away from Tarou-kun’s excited exclamations as they sit in a private room at the restaurant. Tarou-kun orders all the most expensive dishes, tries to engage Shige in a lot of chat about his personal finances, and generally insists on taking up center stage with everything going on.
“What do you guys feel about a bikini business in Canada?” Tarou-kun asks, eyeing Shige like he is made of gold or something.
Shige gives him a strange look. “Isn’t Canada really cold?” he asks.
Tarou-kun flashes a broad smile. “It has miles of beaches.”
Shige does not buy it. “Frozen beaches. Normal people don’t wear bikinis to frozen beaches.”
Tarou-kun waves him off. “I’m a visionary, Kato-san,” he insists. “I think outside the box. I don’t like to conform to normalcy.”
Shige snorts. “Neither do serial killers.”
A beat.
Tarou-kun moves towards Massu. “Masuda-san, what do you feel about wearing a bikini on the beach? It’s a very natural thing to see, right?”
Massu gives him strange, confounded look. “I’ve never worn a bikini on the beach,” he explains, and on the other side of the table, he sees Shige give Koyama a look, to which Koyama answers with an apologetic shrug and their universal expression for I’ll make it up to you later, I swear.
Shige glares some more but seems to accept this, and before long, is eating his sushi with a suspicious look on his face as he asks a bunch of questions about all the business ventures Tarou-kun and Zhao-san have undertaken in the past year.
The more he hears the darker his expression gets, and Massu starts to worry that Shige is going to say something insulting to Tarou-kun and Zhao-san and then Massu will be obliged to back him up in a fight because that’s what friends do, even though Massu is pretty sure that Chinese guy knows Kung Fu (he looks like a Triad in his suit and his sunglasses, chewing on a toothpick). Then they’ll get horribly disfigured in the fight, fail as idols, and NEWS will lose two (or even three, because Koyama will probably try to save them) members again and be doomed.
But before that can happen, and just before the second round of drinks arrives, Koyama excuses himself to the bathroom.
Shige gets a more thoughtful, seedy look on his face, and Massu sighs and sides closer to his friend, nervously gripping his chopsticks in one hand because obviously that means things are going to get hairy now.
“You two are total con artists, aren’t you?” Shige asks, sitting back and crossing his arms as he looks at Tarou-kun and Zhao-san. “And you’ve taken Koyama for thousands already and now you’re back for more. I know we’re idols, but not all of us are dumb.”
Tarou-kun looks insulted while Zhao-san’s expression doesn’t change. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Massu’s grip on his chopsticks tightens instinctively, and he starts to sweat. Once, Tegoshi told him that his scared face is a lot like his angry face, which is funny, and maybe that is true, because when Tarou-kun glances at him, he pauses for a moment, and then scoots back a little bit.
“Look,” Shige explains, sounding tired. “If you leave us and Koyama alone right now, I won’t call the police on you.” Pause. “Or immigration on your friend. He looks way too seedy to be here legally.”
Zhao-san finally twitches in response. Massu imagines the Chinese man standing suddenly, flipping the table up, and taking them all down with some Shaolin-fist style theatrics. The grip he has on his nice wooden chopsticks is white-knuckled now.
“Also,” Shige adds, because he is apparently on a roll with this intimidation thing, “Massu may look kind of small, but he’s a solid wall of muscle. Not that I’m threatening you or anything.”
Massu’s expression of disbelief is lost in the moment when, unexpectedly, his nice wooden chopsticks snap in half in his hand.
Tarou-kun and Zhao-san stare at the splintered wood.
And then they get up, bow, and quietly leave. “It was nice meeting you,” Tarou-kun says respectfully, as the door to the private room closes behind them.
Shige looks at Massu, who is pale and sweating and looks kind of fierce. He grins. “Nice, Massu.”
“Ow,” Massu says, after a moment.
After that, when Koyama returns to the bathroom, he asks his groupmates where Tarou-kun and Zhao-san went. Shige’s response is that they had to leave for business reasons. Koyama, satisfied with that, prompts them to order more of whatever they want, and promises to make up for accidentally inviting strangers to their birthday lunch by paying for a movie too.
He never hears from Tarou-kun or Zhao-san again.
END
*****
At the end of Koyama’s heartwarming story of friendship, Matsumoto chortles and gives Massu an incredulous look. “You really snapped them in two?”
Massu pauses, looking a little confounded. “Uh…” he says, while Tegoshi laughs and says, “Of course he did! Look at these muscles, ne.” He squeezes Massu’s arm.
Koyama pours Matsumoto more tea from the thermos he had brought with the bentos and looks hopeful. “So… do you forgive Massu?”
Matsumoto looks thoughtful around a mouthful of rice. “Sure,” he decides eventually. “I forgive him.”
The three NEWS members sigh in relief.
“But,” the older idol declares, looking firm, “he better fucking pay for a new phone.”
Everyone happily agrees that those terms are fair.
END
*****
At the end of Shige’s story, Ryo looks incredulously at his younger groupmate. “Seriously?” he asks, unimpressed. “That’s it?”
Shige blinks. “What the hell do you mean that’s it?!” he asks, while Koyama hastily starts laughing in a nervous, awkward sort of way.
“Yeah, Ryo-chan’s right, Shige,” the eldest member cuts in, with an imploring look at his best friend, “That definitely wasn’t as good as your other story ne.”
Shige scowls. “What other story?”
“You know, you’re other story.” Koyama makes a few vague, panicky motions with his hand.
Tegoshi claps in realization. “Right! That other story!” he confirms cheerfully. “That one was way better than this last one, Shige, I don’t know why you didn’t just start with the good one.”
Ryo looks confused. “Wait, so this moron wasted our time with a couple of lame-ass stories when he could have told a better one?”
Shige is sputtering too indignantly to respond.
Which makes Yamapi respond for him. “Yup!” Yamapi declares. “But since he’s obviously very sorry for it now, he’ll definitely tell us the good one next, right, Shige?”
Shige imagines all of their heads exploding.
“Right, Shige?” Yamapi repeats, confident and imploring all at once.
“Right,” Shige grinds out. “How silly of me to not start with that other one.”
“But you can’t tell it now,” Koyama says, pointing to the door, where a PA is anxiously waving his arms at them and pointing to his watch. “It’s time to rehearse ne. So maybe during the next break, Shige can start.” Pause. “You know, if everything goes smoothly.”
Shige has a headache. “Only if everything goes smoothly,” he says darkly. “Otherwise I definitely won’t be in the mood to entertain you five.”
“Then it’s settled,” Tegoshi chirrups, unintentionally superior as he helps Massu to his feet from the couch. “If everything goes well until our next break, then Shige will tell us that really good story.”
Shige grumbles something noncommittal and gets up to go learn a few dances.
And come up with another whole story.
Sometimes Shige wishes he was too dumb to rely on, like normal idols.
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