Leaps And Vicious Cycles
Synopsis: Food-loving Sho is now officially one-half of a bakappuru (stupid couple). Like he was always meant to be.
Note: Please excuse the grammar (tenses, run-on sentences, etc.), the incoherence, the lack of plot, the nameless lead, the weak/non-existent characterization and flat conversations, the inconsistencies, the typographical errors, the lack of ebb and flow, the general idea of me writing a fic. I found no other possibility of illustrating (not that I was able to) the leaps and the cycles of the characters' shared life without explicitly putting in the dates for each short. Chronology is difficult and I've seen good authors utilize this style so I thought it might be okay for me to attempt at it. It's the best I can do. I don't think this is considered a fic, though. It lacks too many elements for it to be called that. It’s just a hodgepodge of my imaginings (stimulated by a view, the unusual cold, and the feel of being in a far away place) as I waited to meet someone who is not one, not two, but three days late. :-/
Special thanks to arasukishi and ianne_xxyl for rubbing off on me good and productive fangirl habits! :-)
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Disguises [2015.03.29]
She sat at the farthest corner in Boo Boo Liv, a deli owned by one of Sho’s colleagues in Johnny’s Juniors, Yonehana. She wondered what backstreet Sho had taken after they lost each other in a sea of black as salarymen scurried about during rush hour. She thinks him stubborn for insisting on eating at Yonehana’s deli during the middle of the week at the most impertinent time of the day. They argued about what was best to wear and decided on matching hoodies. They then half-argued about the impertinence of wearing matching clothes when the last thing they wanted was rouse suspicion and bait the paparazzi. They wore them anyway. On his own, Sho is level-headed. With her, he makes half of a stupid couple. They walked the sidewalks a few meters apart of each other, pretending to be nothing more than two people coincidentally wearing the same jacket. People must surely have thought they were fooling around.
She waits patiently for him, like she has done all her life. Half an hour later, he makes his way in. His cap was nestled too low on his head she worried if he would start bumping into the deli’s furniture. He clearly looked annoyed that they were twenty-seven minutes behind schedule. She should know, he has saved a copy of his Excel-drafted weekly schedule into her smartphone. He sat on the table opposite hers, looked at her, smirked. He starts to beckon the waiter, ordering dish after dish of sausage. She ordered the same dishes. They start eating from different tables, eyes locked. This is how they always do dates - wear the same clothes, sit at different tables, eat the same food, eyes on each other, a half-smile or smirk here and there, and occasional mails to convey what knowing looks and expressions fail to.
“You’re eating like I don’t feed you” she mailed him as he was helping himself to a mouthful.
“You look sexy in that jacket” came his off-tangent reply. “You look suspicious in it” she typed. “That’s because you’re staring too much!” he retorted.
Later, they get on separate taxis. She arrives home first. He rings the doorbell a few minutes after. She lets him in, he thanks her for the date and plants a very wet kiss on her. He wraps his arm around her shoulder and they head to the fridge to get a can of beer. They then settle on the sofa, snuggle under a blanket and watch TV. Ohno’s new fishing/travel show is on. Ohno’s guests are Aiba and Nino. Ohno goes on and on about fishing but Aiba and Nino are too busy horsing around, ignoring/laughing at whatever he says.
~
After Yesterday [2014.12.03]
She woke up in a whirl of white sheets in a room with walls the color of dumpling wrappers on a high-rise mansion a few steps from the Imperial Palace. Yesterday was not a dream. It started with a trip to the ward office, hastily affixing her seal on papers and not trying to meet anyone’s eyes. Thereafter, a blur of profuse apologies to employers, managers, his groupmates, the staff.
It was her wedding day.
She got out of bed, slipping her cold feet into her new slippers. The room is a mess, clothes scattered on the carpeted floor, the bedside clock blinking lazily - 9:16, it read.
She found Sho in the kitchen, attempting French toast. He was barefoot, wearing frayed sweatpants and a white T-shirt, looking much younger than he actually is.
“Morning” she said softly. “Mmm” he managed to answer.
She hugged him from behind as he was attempting to turn over a toast. “Oi!” Sho let out a surprised sigh.
The slightly burnt toast fell on the marbled floor. They stared at it for a good ten seconds before they burst out laughing.
“Let’s just have strawberry milk and yogurt for today” he suggested.
She watched Sho sip noisily on his milk, the morning light on his rumpled hair. Their kitchen looked minimalist to the point of sterility. There was nothing on the cupboards, save for a bottle of shoyu. That would be her next project, she thought. Sho made a face when he emptied his milk box. She chuckled at how especially swollen Sho’s face is today.
“What are you laughing at?” Sho asked. “Your face, it’s begging for a pinch” came her reply.
~
Bonds And Domesticity [2015.12.14]
“Are you for real?!” Sho blurted, clearly irritated.
“Here, let me put some newspapers on the table, eat above them” she said with effortless nonchalance.
“It’s not like I’m being punished anyway, leaf pie is one of my favorites” Sho said sarcastically.
She felt bad making Sho eat leaf pie for breakfast three days in a row but she’s been extremely tired from cleaning his clutter for a week already. Newspaper clippings, notes, what-nots, they’ve taken over their bedroom. They have gone from wearing matching clothes to actually sharing each other’s clothes. They’ve hit a new low/high. She started wearing his watches too and he seemed to encourage it. They lost all sense of distance in a span of a year. What used to be a clearly demarcated sleeping position is now replaced by his legs enveloping her. Ironically, she finds this sleeping position most comfortable. She’s gained four brothers. She could not be happier about that. It’s nice that they live so near, in the same building, on different floors. They seem to have taken a liking on her, because they are imposing on her too much these days. Ohno asks her to buy art supplies when he hears that she’s going to the grocery. Nino habitually begs for cup noodles because he never really stocks up on food. Aiba has designated her to be his daily wake-up call. And then, there’s Jun, their permanent house guest. It was a full year and the year was full of them. They have such a strong presence in Sho’s life, and in true domino effect, on hers, that they have taken numerous trips to Yokohama and Atami just to get away from them. Their life has also acquired a certain rhythm, a balance, a feel of banality. The kitchen shelves are now filled with an obscene amount of condiments, the laundry basket never seems to get empty, and she now has twenty three clam recipes under her belt. She has days of endless waiting whenever they go on tours or shoots and mornings watching wide shows in typical Japanese housewife fashion. Life was beginning to feel like it.
Tonight she decides to cook abalone minestrone to make up for the lousy meals she has been making. Sho came home early. He miraculously secured a break from work tomorrow and the day after. They plan stay in and spend time to together, just the two of them. It was a cold night, just like many nights of this winter month. Dinner was noisy as Sho complimented her in the weirdest of ways.
“Did you order this?” he teased. “You saw me making it" she started.
“It tastes like something they would serve in an Italian restaurant”, says Sho with smirk clearly meant to get into her nerves.
“It’s also a taste that you’re never to taste again” she shots back playfully.
“You’re so strict. I meant to say, thank you for preparing a nice-tasting meal for today” Sho says in a small voice.
“That’s better. You can wash the dishes to thank me” she says, coming over to Sho’s side of the table and behind his back to wrap her arms around his neck, making sure he didn’t see the slight blush in her cheeks.
They decided to buy dessert from the nearby Lawson just because. They also picked up eclairs, cream puffs, cake roll slices, and tissue paper aside from the two small bowls of pudding they originally intended to buy. They walked back slowly, cold fingers intertwined, the evening breeze making their plastic bags rustle. Suddenly, they meet an intoxicated Jun, walking somewhat unsteadily, his face exposed for all the world to see.
“Sho-kun!” a tipsy Jun called out. “What do you think you’re doing? Did something happen?” Sho probed.
No explanation came from Jun, instead, he leaned on Sho for support. Sho positioned himself under Jun’s left arm and helped him walk. She walked behind them. Sho was struggling to keep their path straight, Jun being heavier and taller than he is. In the elevator, they decide that Jun was too drunk to be left alone in his own place. The lashing they would get from the office if something happened to his face would be too much. Sho dumped him on their couch. She put a blanket on him. He slept in an instant and they spent a good part of the night eating all the desserts they bought to the hum of Jun’s breathing. All their plans for the night were scrapped.
They were up early the next morning. They attempt to make a decent breakfast. The kitchen counter is a mess from all the clumsy chopping and mincing Sho has been doing. Jun wakes up an hour later. He heads straight to the bathroom to gurgle and wash his face. He is blindingly fair in the mornings. He then proceeds to sit in one of the chairs of the kitchen counter, drumming his fingers on the table, impatiently waiting for a plateful of food to be placed in front of him as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
“What is this new kind of food?” Jun asks.
“Oh, it’s omelet, there’s mushroom, goat cheese, and olives in there” she answers cheerfully.
“What’s the name of this omelet?”, Jun asks again, acting spoiled. “It’s the first time we made it. A rushed experiment. It might be too strong for break-”
“This kindness of yours is why he thinks it’s perfectly okay to half-live in our house and not thank us for our hospitality!” Sho cuts in, looking at her disbelievingly and then at the troublesome boy sitting in front of them, annoyed at how oblivious Jun is about wreaking havoc with his sex life in the way rainy weather wreaks havoc with picnic plans.
“I’ll make lemon muffins next time” she quickly gets back at Jun, ignoring Sho. “Oi, don’t indulge him!” Sho protests, not looking like he meant what he said at all.
“But I think this is better than ice cream sandwich you served me for breakfast the week before” Jun, stylishly making swirling, pointing motions with his fork to his plate, declares, laughing.