DEG: KAORU/SHINYA: The Airport
Title: The Airport
Author: cateris
Pairing: Kaoru/Shinya (Dir en Grey)
Rating: PG
Summary: He's not used with closeness.
Disclaimer: The events and characters depicted in the following piece of work are completely fictitious. Even though similarities with the members of Dir en Grey, or other public personae may be found they are in no way implying that any of the events or character traits are true. I do not know the members of Dir en Grey, and am in no way affiliated to them, the story itself is completely untrue and is in no way meant to reflect the private lives, actual practices, or activities of any persons named. No harm, libel or disrespect is intended. No statements whatsoever and no commercial gain are made out of the work archived here; this is simply for entertainment purposes.
NOTE: *I am DREADFULLY late with delivering this* HAPPY BIRTHDAY, hotarubi! I hope you had a BEAUTIFUL PERFECT DAY and that your set of goals this year will be even bolder and you'll amanage to also achieve more and more :) This is something that I have since September 18 last year, the original idea intact to the one back then. The only thing that added more to it right now is you and how I tormented myself with HOW I should make something perfect for you. In any case...I hope you'll like it :)
MANY THANKS to rheakurokawa for betaing this as soon as I finished it and for holding my hand the whole time :)
He's not used with closeness. He's not used with having to wake up in the morning and start a conversation after the night before he shared the same bed with that person. He's messy and he's loud in his own house and doesn't know how to tiptoe when another person stays over. He likes his dogs and cat and that's how far he likes his own silence. He's just Shinya.
"He's here again!" the young stewardess excitedly begins as soon as she enters the door, careful not to spill any of the coffee cups on the plate. "Always on Fridays," she comments lovingly, placing the hot cups on the long desk she and her male colleague share.
He's smiling sympathetically. He started detecting all the small details and the evident signs this stranger involuntarily caused in his funny colleague. He's been amused since the day she first started to notice the pattern. For him it was almost like witnessing a soap opera.
"He changed his hair again," she sing-songs while pouring milk into her own cup. "I like it better now," licks her spoon after using it to blend the whole thing in her coffee. "Sugar?" she briefly changes the subject, making him snort a little when he's just about to take a sip from his own cup.
"No, thank you."
The clock on the wall shows 4:00 am. And in an about half an hour the next flight will be off. It's the flight for Paris, the flight they're on every week together, teamed up with the other two French female attendants and the two talkative German males.
She's frowning giving a little tug to her perfect bun. "What's up?" he politely asks because he already knows what she'll start talking about next, because he’d actually been wondering how come she didn't start the conversation with that in the first place. "Why sulking?"
"Mmmm," she begins in a thoughtful voice. "I thought he'd never show up today," and prefers to leave it at that, taking another sip from her coffee.
So he was right. One hour ago she would’ve made lots of walks outside the staff area, always with excuses of taking and bringing reports from level 1 to level 2. Then it was the necessarily taken smoking break from where she came back not smelling at all of nicotine, shortly followed with quiet moments at the desk spacing out.
His phone starts to ring…
--------------------------------
He knows his kind. He’s seen enough movies and read enough reports to be able to recognize one. He’s always on guard. Always.
The security video control room is papered in fifty surveillance screens, all for the first floor of the Haneda International Airport, all covering the long wall from the control panel to the ceiling.
And he’s no fool. Buying a soda in a faked carefree manner with hunched shoulders and a rather disturbing slow walking pace means that he has to be prepared.
Mr.Masamune turns around in his chair announcing his other colleague that he’ll be out inspecting and that Mr.Yamamoto ought to better be back in his absence to take his place. Heading for the door he hands the walkie-talkie to him.
The hallways of the restricted area prepare him for the worse. In his journey Mr.Masamune decides that this will be the day when he’ll be able to face the enemy in the eye. This will be the closest he’ll achieve for now and the first warning he’ll give in the series of many more that will come, according to how things will evolve for the next weeks.
Arranging his tie impeccably, he brings his perfect manicured fingers through his dark hair silver-hued along his ears.
--------------------------------
What will I be doing with her?...
The long, one meter streak of wet floor continues to grow bigger and bigger under the rectangle mop obediently following its master.
Didn’t she think of that when she slept with him?
In the earphones the song is catchy and bouncy. Korean Pop.
I told her. Never go out with a Japanese man. Japanese are bad.
Almost half of the first floor area is done since she arrived at 3:00am sharp. The toilets will be next, only to verify if everything runs smoothly.
And the shop still didn’t pay this week…
The woman was about to turn around and continue towards the windowed facade when, in the corner of her eye ,she saw a man approaching, half bowing, waving his right hand as in getting her attention. She pretended she didn’t see and continued her work. In the reflection she instantly saw how the man remained silent in that same position, then straightened his back in sign of defeat. Still: he didn’t leave.
Japanese men. She thought to herself in utter disgust, already feeling insulted.
She tried to concentrate on the next song. A candy Korean female band ballad. She felt strong. Turned around facing him, her eyes not leaving the floor for once.
The man approached again and his steps were careful and shy, his courage of breaking her territory counting only two small steps onto the freshly wet area beneath him. He hunched once more and waved vaguely towards her.
She could see that he already uttered some words but the song deafened her for their acknowledgement. She took her earphones down.
“Excuse me,” sculptural flattened eyes met perfectly carved bigger ones. “I’m sorry for bothering you, but can you tell me-”
“No understand, no understand,” and she helped herself while using her body language, her head waving from left to right continuously in a definite sign of “no”.
She didn’t even let him finish although she knew what he said. The visible wrinkles underneath her eyes heard this language for more than twenty years already. No good ever came from them.
Putting the earphones on again she continued sullenly in her task.
--------------------------------
“Why yes, but that is such a perfect pick,” the shop clerk added almost instantly, hawkishly following Shinya’s eyes and the way they washed over that magazine briefly when he walked past it on his way to pay for the soda he picked.
Shinya appeared unhurried in contemplation when he positioned the can on the counter and gave a long stare at the shop clerk. “It’s always handy when one wants to settle down finally”. Caused Shinya to flinch a little.
“Excuse me?” his voice sounded like caught in his throat. Someone close to him would have recognized the audible shift.
“I saw you around these days,” he said leaning over the counter a little, speaking a little bit low in a confident manner. It didn’t stop him from doing his job though, his hand taking the can through the barcode reader and his eyes smiling at the corners at the price displayed on the screen. “We all end up in that very same spot, believe me,” the way he talked was kept entirely over polite and by his features he didn’t seem like he was the type of employer that would disturb the customers in such a way.
It was a pet magazine.
--------------------------------
He’s been staring at the ground in his quiet pose on the long bench facing the windowed façade. The airport’s structure stared back silently at him in the reflection. Although it had seen a lot, it couldn’t share any of its wisdom. It just offered a kind warm support in the shape of a quiet listener, giving Shinya’s monologue with himself some sort of hopeful tinge of a decision.
The continuous metal bars, the independent structure of the glass façade saw him first. Since day one they knew what he was looking for. What he didn’t know himself.
In this place without any sense of identity and belonging to some specific country they also wait, together with Shinya, for that phone call to be made. Because that’s his decision to make. And even the old security man gives him a long look when he goes past him, his scrutinizing eyes studying him coldly while he stays with the receiver lumping in his grasp. His stare makes the time stand still, or at least that’s how Shinya feels like.
--------------------------------
There’s a group of arrival passengers passing through. One group of catholic nuns, business men and excited tourists. They all walk in the same direction, they all know their path and the reason they are here. Opposite from them come the impeccably imposing flight attendants with their captain and the stewardesses. Their walk is regal, overpowering. Their small chats and exchanged smiles take all of the attention around. One of them is for Shinya only, but of course he’ll never know that in the end. The way he still doesn’t know Kaoru is just four meters away from him, approaching calmly, in casual clothes, eye glasses on and a face still graced by the touches of sleep.
Outside the newly arrived airplane is still roaring in the background, the engine still on.
On the long track the small glowing dots vibrate together signaling continuously in the calm night.
The airport is doing its job well. From them all only an alien would witness the reason why Shinya had been there in the first place. A little foreign girl from the west whose mother left her staying outside the shop because she was too tired in the end and bored to be dragged along like a luggage. With her Jessica doll she’ll be magically drawn to the sight of the two and like any other child of her age she’ll stare shamelessly.
She will see the way Kaoru would give Shinya a milkshake although he knows he doesn’t like it. The way he’ll be sitting down silently next to him and he’ll utter the first words to which Shinya will smile somehow shyly. Then it will be Shinya’s part to speak and to explain and his eyes would be averted from Kaoru and his own nervousness would be easier to grasp from the way he would rub his wrists with his hands and his back would get more hunched.
She will miss the end though, because her mother will come out with just a bag and she will be taken away from her spot.
--------------------------------
…
Kaoru nods, a soft smile on his face and gentleness in his eyes. Looking to the high above ceiling he utters: “Then this is what will be done. First a trip. Then the actual moving together.”
Author: cateris
Pairing: Kaoru/Shinya (Dir en Grey)
Rating: PG
Summary: He's not used with closeness.
Disclaimer: The events and characters depicted in the following piece of work are completely fictitious. Even though similarities with the members of Dir en Grey, or other public personae may be found they are in no way implying that any of the events or character traits are true. I do not know the members of Dir en Grey, and am in no way affiliated to them, the story itself is completely untrue and is in no way meant to reflect the private lives, actual practices, or activities of any persons named. No harm, libel or disrespect is intended. No statements whatsoever and no commercial gain are made out of the work archived here; this is simply for entertainment purposes.
NOTE: *I am DREADFULLY late with delivering this* HAPPY BIRTHDAY, hotarubi! I hope you had a BEAUTIFUL PERFECT DAY and that your set of goals this year will be even bolder and you'll amanage to also achieve more and more :) This is something that I have since September 18 last year, the original idea intact to the one back then. The only thing that added more to it right now is you and how I tormented myself with HOW I should make something perfect for you. In any case...I hope you'll like it :)
MANY THANKS to rheakurokawa for betaing this as soon as I finished it and for holding my hand the whole time :)
He's not used with closeness. He's not used with having to wake up in the morning and start a conversation after the night before he shared the same bed with that person. He's messy and he's loud in his own house and doesn't know how to tiptoe when another person stays over. He likes his dogs and cat and that's how far he likes his own silence. He's just Shinya.
"He's here again!" the young stewardess excitedly begins as soon as she enters the door, careful not to spill any of the coffee cups on the plate. "Always on Fridays," she comments lovingly, placing the hot cups on the long desk she and her male colleague share.
He's smiling sympathetically. He started detecting all the small details and the evident signs this stranger involuntarily caused in his funny colleague. He's been amused since the day she first started to notice the pattern. For him it was almost like witnessing a soap opera.
"He changed his hair again," she sing-songs while pouring milk into her own cup. "I like it better now," licks her spoon after using it to blend the whole thing in her coffee. "Sugar?" she briefly changes the subject, making him snort a little when he's just about to take a sip from his own cup.
"No, thank you."
The clock on the wall shows 4:00 am. And in an about half an hour the next flight will be off. It's the flight for Paris, the flight they're on every week together, teamed up with the other two French female attendants and the two talkative German males.
She's frowning giving a little tug to her perfect bun. "What's up?" he politely asks because he already knows what she'll start talking about next, because he’d actually been wondering how come she didn't start the conversation with that in the first place. "Why sulking?"
"Mmmm," she begins in a thoughtful voice. "I thought he'd never show up today," and prefers to leave it at that, taking another sip from her coffee.
So he was right. One hour ago she would’ve made lots of walks outside the staff area, always with excuses of taking and bringing reports from level 1 to level 2. Then it was the necessarily taken smoking break from where she came back not smelling at all of nicotine, shortly followed with quiet moments at the desk spacing out.
His phone starts to ring…
--------------------------------
He knows his kind. He’s seen enough movies and read enough reports to be able to recognize one. He’s always on guard. Always.
The security video control room is papered in fifty surveillance screens, all for the first floor of the Haneda International Airport, all covering the long wall from the control panel to the ceiling.
And he’s no fool. Buying a soda in a faked carefree manner with hunched shoulders and a rather disturbing slow walking pace means that he has to be prepared.
Mr.Masamune turns around in his chair announcing his other colleague that he’ll be out inspecting and that Mr.Yamamoto ought to better be back in his absence to take his place. Heading for the door he hands the walkie-talkie to him.
The hallways of the restricted area prepare him for the worse. In his journey Mr.Masamune decides that this will be the day when he’ll be able to face the enemy in the eye. This will be the closest he’ll achieve for now and the first warning he’ll give in the series of many more that will come, according to how things will evolve for the next weeks.
Arranging his tie impeccably, he brings his perfect manicured fingers through his dark hair silver-hued along his ears.
--------------------------------
What will I be doing with her?...
The long, one meter streak of wet floor continues to grow bigger and bigger under the rectangle mop obediently following its master.
Didn’t she think of that when she slept with him?
In the earphones the song is catchy and bouncy. Korean Pop.
I told her. Never go out with a Japanese man. Japanese are bad.
Almost half of the first floor area is done since she arrived at 3:00am sharp. The toilets will be next, only to verify if everything runs smoothly.
And the shop still didn’t pay this week…
The woman was about to turn around and continue towards the windowed facade when, in the corner of her eye ,she saw a man approaching, half bowing, waving his right hand as in getting her attention. She pretended she didn’t see and continued her work. In the reflection she instantly saw how the man remained silent in that same position, then straightened his back in sign of defeat. Still: he didn’t leave.
Japanese men. She thought to herself in utter disgust, already feeling insulted.
She tried to concentrate on the next song. A candy Korean female band ballad. She felt strong. Turned around facing him, her eyes not leaving the floor for once.
The man approached again and his steps were careful and shy, his courage of breaking her territory counting only two small steps onto the freshly wet area beneath him. He hunched once more and waved vaguely towards her.
She could see that he already uttered some words but the song deafened her for their acknowledgement. She took her earphones down.
“Excuse me,” sculptural flattened eyes met perfectly carved bigger ones. “I’m sorry for bothering you, but can you tell me-”
“No understand, no understand,” and she helped herself while using her body language, her head waving from left to right continuously in a definite sign of “no”.
She didn’t even let him finish although she knew what he said. The visible wrinkles underneath her eyes heard this language for more than twenty years already. No good ever came from them.
Putting the earphones on again she continued sullenly in her task.
--------------------------------
“Why yes, but that is such a perfect pick,” the shop clerk added almost instantly, hawkishly following Shinya’s eyes and the way they washed over that magazine briefly when he walked past it on his way to pay for the soda he picked.
Shinya appeared unhurried in contemplation when he positioned the can on the counter and gave a long stare at the shop clerk. “It’s always handy when one wants to settle down finally”. Caused Shinya to flinch a little.
“Excuse me?” his voice sounded like caught in his throat. Someone close to him would have recognized the audible shift.
“I saw you around these days,” he said leaning over the counter a little, speaking a little bit low in a confident manner. It didn’t stop him from doing his job though, his hand taking the can through the barcode reader and his eyes smiling at the corners at the price displayed on the screen. “We all end up in that very same spot, believe me,” the way he talked was kept entirely over polite and by his features he didn’t seem like he was the type of employer that would disturb the customers in such a way.
It was a pet magazine.
--------------------------------
He’s been staring at the ground in his quiet pose on the long bench facing the windowed façade. The airport’s structure stared back silently at him in the reflection. Although it had seen a lot, it couldn’t share any of its wisdom. It just offered a kind warm support in the shape of a quiet listener, giving Shinya’s monologue with himself some sort of hopeful tinge of a decision.
The continuous metal bars, the independent structure of the glass façade saw him first. Since day one they knew what he was looking for. What he didn’t know himself.
In this place without any sense of identity and belonging to some specific country they also wait, together with Shinya, for that phone call to be made. Because that’s his decision to make. And even the old security man gives him a long look when he goes past him, his scrutinizing eyes studying him coldly while he stays with the receiver lumping in his grasp. His stare makes the time stand still, or at least that’s how Shinya feels like.
--------------------------------
There’s a group of arrival passengers passing through. One group of catholic nuns, business men and excited tourists. They all walk in the same direction, they all know their path and the reason they are here. Opposite from them come the impeccably imposing flight attendants with their captain and the stewardesses. Their walk is regal, overpowering. Their small chats and exchanged smiles take all of the attention around. One of them is for Shinya only, but of course he’ll never know that in the end. The way he still doesn’t know Kaoru is just four meters away from him, approaching calmly, in casual clothes, eye glasses on and a face still graced by the touches of sleep.
Outside the newly arrived airplane is still roaring in the background, the engine still on.
On the long track the small glowing dots vibrate together signaling continuously in the calm night.
The airport is doing its job well. From them all only an alien would witness the reason why Shinya had been there in the first place. A little foreign girl from the west whose mother left her staying outside the shop because she was too tired in the end and bored to be dragged along like a luggage. With her Jessica doll she’ll be magically drawn to the sight of the two and like any other child of her age she’ll stare shamelessly.
She will see the way Kaoru would give Shinya a milkshake although he knows he doesn’t like it. The way he’ll be sitting down silently next to him and he’ll utter the first words to which Shinya will smile somehow shyly. Then it will be Shinya’s part to speak and to explain and his eyes would be averted from Kaoru and his own nervousness would be easier to grasp from the way he would rub his wrists with his hands and his back would get more hunched.
She will miss the end though, because her mother will come out with just a bag and she will be taken away from her spot.
--------------------------------
…
Kaoru nods, a soft smile on his face and gentleness in his eyes. Looking to the high above ceiling he utters: “Then this is what will be done. First a trip. Then the actual moving together.”