Oneshot - Tokyo Fairytale
TOKYO FAIRYTALE
A darkened loft apartment, no real walls besides the one separating off the bathroom and toilet, a messy, unmade single bed in one corner beside a nightstand holding a glass of water, half a blister pack of sleeping pills and a well thumbed paperback. A wide window opposite the door, a single couch facing the TV, opposite the bed, a kitchen area beside the door and a small table with three chairs. Hardwood floors, but carpet beneath the bed and white linoleum around the kitchen units. In front of the window a desk covered in paper, and sitting in the chair, a figure hunched over a fresh sheet of paper, scribbling away, completely engrossed, the waning orange light of the evening glowing off his hair, glinting on the nib of the pen, casting a heavy light on the paper, on the words:
Let me tell you a story, about a dancer and a writer, a fairytale of love and happiness, a tale of Jin and Tatsuya.
Tatsuya was a columnist for a small time magazine. He wrote columns every week, talking about whatever he wanted to talk about, whatever he was interested in, he was allowed to write anything as long as he made it interesting, and everyone loved his column. Tatsuya loved his job, he was happy.
Jin worked as a dancer for a company that put on shows all the time. He would act too, telling the story as he danced, he was good, very good, he almost always won the lead role, his dancing was mesmerising, the way he moved was captivating. Jin loved dancing more than anything.
One day, another writer at the magazine was given the job of writing a column about one of Jin’s performances, and asked Tatsuya to go too. Tatsuya agreed and followed his colleague to the performance.
They sat in their seats and watched the whole performance from start to finish. Tatsuya was amazed by how beautiful Jin was when he danced, he found himself unable to take his eyes off him as he moved his feet, his hips, his arms, and when Jin turned his head suddenly to look out at the audience Tatsuya felt as though he couldn’t breathe.
After the performance was over the other writer took Tatsuya with him backstage because as part of the job they had to interview the dancers. They interviewed a lot of dancers before they found Jin. But then when Tatsuya turned around Jin was standing right before him, staring at him.
He couldn’t hear what his colleague was saying, he couldn’t remember the questions that were asked, he could only remember how beautiful Jin was, how deep his eyes were, pulling him in and drowning him.
When the interview was over Tatsuya turned to leave, but Jin caught his arm
“What’s your name?”
“Tatsuya,”
“My name is…”
“I know…Jin,”
When Jin had been dancing he had turned to look at the audience and out of everyone seated in the hall he had caught sight of one face and his chest had felt like it was swelling. This person had such a beautiful face; Jin had almost forgotten to keep dancing.
When the person with the beautiful face had appeared backstage Jin was thrilled, he had such beautiful, mesmerising black eyes, soft looking lips, a delicate pretty curve to his face, and when he thought he might leave he couldn’t stop himself from catching his arm, bringing him back, asking his name.
Jin took Tatsuya out to eat and they got to know each other, Tatsuya told Jin he worked for a magazine, writing a weekly column about the things that interested him. Jin told him he had been dancing with his company for ten years, he had been taught to dance when he was very young and had a natural flair for it.
Tatsuya and Jin began to spend as much time as they could together, whenever they didn’t have to work they were together, they went out together, or they stayed in together, just enjoying being with each other.
Every day Jin would cup Tatsuya’s face in his hands and whisper
“You’re so beautiful,”
Tatsuya had never been happier in his life, whenever he was with Jin his heart beat faster, his body felt lighter, and he couldn’t help but smile. Whenever Jin was with Tatsuya he would smile too, he would hold him close and kiss him and tell him he’d never let go.
There are a few pages now, no longer blank, full of small, precise writing, the figure pauses, the pen poised above the paper, over the next blanks space to be filled with words. But he isn’t looking at the paper anymore, First he looks out of the window, a small sad smile staining his features as the setting sun sets off a gentle orange glow on his skin, his eyes shadowed by his bangs. Then he turns and looks towards the unmade bed and the suitcase that stands beside it. Then he glances round the room, wondering what else needs to be packed, and what can simply be left behind…
“Life is not a fairytale…” his voice is a whisper, a calm, low, gentle sound, soaked in anguish as he turns back to the paper and finally lowers his pen to it…
But life is not a fairytale and for Jin and Tatsuya there is no storybook ending, no castle, no white horse, no rainbows painted by elves…
Maybe there would have been, but for the smallest, seemingly most insignificant of mistakes, a split second of thought.
One morning, the sun shining through the curtains in Tatsuya’s apartment where Jin lay asleep on the bed and Tatsuya stood at the kitchenette making coffee, a mistake was made…
Jin sat up and checked his watch, it was a Saturday, a beautiful day, Tatsuya was listening to the radio as he made coffee, Jin stood and walked to him, wrapping his arms around his waist, kissing the back of his neck.
“I have a rehearsal this morning, I’m sorry, I forgot,”
“That’s okay, I’ll see you afterwards,”
Tatsuya stayed behind, singing along softly with the radio, writing articles and columns for work, moving around his apartment by himself, smiling when he thought of Jin, his arms on his waits, his lips against his skin…
At the theatre hall Jin walked through the doors, expecting to see his fellow dancers, the instructor, people he knew and recognized, instead he found a crowd of dancers he had never seen before. But they were good, the way they moved was beautiful…
He realised then that he must have mixed up his days or his times, another group was using the hall right now. He was going to leave, he was going to walk away, call someone he knew and ask them again when they were supposed to meet up, as he had forgotten…but as he turned he saw…another dancer…
Amongst all the dancers on the stage, stretching, practicing together, talking amongst themselves, was the most beautiful dancer Jin had ever seen in his life. He was only practicing, his bangs stuck to his forehead with sweat, his breathing was laboured, his cheeks flushed. When he stopped he tossed his hair out of his eyes and ran a hand through it, accepting a bottle of water from a fellow dancer with a gorgeous, dazzling smile.
Jin could not stop himself from moving, the dancer was walking across the stage, about to disappear behind the curtain, Jin couldn’t let him disappear, he caught up and found himself reaching out, catching his arm, the dancer turned and stared at him, his rich, hot brown eyes gazing at him in surprise and rapture.
“I’m sorry but…what’s your name?”
“Kazuya,”
This is when the fairytale ceased to be a fairytale and reality crashed down on their story.
Over the next couple of weeks Tatsuya noticed a change, a bad change, a change that caused him to stop smiling, a change that spread a cold feeling through his chest whenever he thought of it. Jin was different, distant, the time they spent together became shorter and less frequent, and when they were together, somehow, they weren’t as happy as they had been before.
Jin no longer held him close to tell him he was beautiful, whenever Jin kissed him it felt as though Jin wasn’t really there, his touches, embraces, the light in his eyes, was all cold, there was barely any warmth between them anymore and Tatsuya couldn’t understand why.
This coldness made him sad, beyond sad, it threatened to break his heart, with every thought, every movement, he felt his heart crack just a little bit more. He didn’t want this, this feeling that chilled and cracked his heart, he wanted to fix it, to be happy again, so he went to see Jin, after a dance rehearsal at the theatre hall.
When he arrived he stepped quietly inside, in case they weren’t quite finished yet. He could see Jin, standing in front of the stage, speaking to another dancer, Jin was smiling, he seemed warm, the way Tatsuya used to see him all the time.
Tatsuya wanted to walk to him, to smile and hug him, he wanted to talk to him, fix whatever had broken between them…until he saw Jin wrap his arms around the other dancer, and the other dancer hugged him back, tightening his arms around Jin’s neck, standing on his toes to bring them closer.
Closing his eyes and turning away Tatsuya left the hall and went home. He locked his door and turned out the lights. His phone rang but not once did he move to answer it, he had no idea who was calling him, and he didn’t care.
The next day at work Tatsuya’s colleague, the same writer who had taken him to the performance where he met Jin, came to tell him about an even bigger performance he will be writing about. Tatsuya said he doesn’t want to go this time. The colleague showed him the information on the production. Two different groups would be working together to make the performance bigger and more spectacular. Clipped to the sheaf of paper were some pictures with sticky labels. Tatsuya asked to see them, Jin’s face was at the top of the pile, and the next one down was…the dancer…the one had seen the day before…his name was…
Kazuya…
The next day Tatsuya and Jin went out to eat together, but instead of being pleased that they would finally spend some time together Tatsuya felt as though a knife were embedded in his chest, somehow, he knew this was an end…
Jin seemed distant again, and now Tatsuya knew why, his head was filled not with Tatsuya, but with Kazuya. Tatsuya watched him stare out of the window, at his food, barely looking at him, he wondered if that meant he felt guilty. Tatsuya mentions the big production coming up, Jin didn’t seem to be paying attention, and Tatsuya wondered just how to mention Kazuya, when…Jin’s phone beeped, alerting him of an incoming message…
“Is that Kazuya?”
Jin was shocked, how did Tatsuya know about Kazuya…but if he knew about the performance…
“Yes,”
“He must miss you,”
Again, Jin was shocked, he didn’t understand why Tatsuya was saying these things, did this mean he knew about…
Tatsuya asked Jin if Kazuya knew about him, if he knew Jin was seeing Tatsuya. Jin didn’t want to admit what he was doing, so he said he did, that most of the dancers probably knew. Tatsuya knew he was avoiding the truth and somehow that hurt even more.
“Please don’t lie to me Jin, you can’t keep doing this, you’re hurting us both, Kazuya and I, you have to choose between us,”
Even though he told Jin that, he knew who he would choose, so he left Jin there, he left the restaurant, and he went home. Jin may have called him, but he didn’t answer his phone. He didn’t want Jin to choose Kazuya, more than anything he wanted Jin to choose him, to hold him close and tell him again that he was beautiful and that he loved him. He wished Jin would hold him close, but he knew Kazuya was the only one Jin would hold close now…
When the article on the performance comes out Tatsuya reads it, and sees the pictures of Jin, of Kazuya, of the two of them, their fingers entwined, they look happy together, his colleague mentions in the article that they are together…
His heart shattered Tatsuya wanted only to curl up and cry until the end of time, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t let himself stay broken. Jin would never be there to fix him, so he would have to do it himself. He packed up his things, making the decision to leave Tokyo. He didn’t tell Jin, he didn’t tell his colleagues, he didn’t tell his boss, instead he would leave behind one last story, as a goodbye to the life he led in Tokyo before he moved on.
The figure, running a hand through his copper hair, stood from his desk and put all the sheaves of paper in order on the desk. He would leave the door unlocked, whoever came looking for him would find the story, his name scrawled at the bottom of the last page.
He pulled on his jacket, packed the last of his things into the suitcase and left the apartment, but not before returning to the pile of paper that held his final story and adding a title at the top of the page.
As the door clicked shut and the sound of his footsteps echoed away to nothing down the corridor the red-orange glow of the tail end of the sunset washed over the title, glinting in dazzling highlights off the ink as it dried:
東京童話
(Tokyo Fairytale)
おわり
A darkened loft apartment, no real walls besides the one separating off the bathroom and toilet, a messy, unmade single bed in one corner beside a nightstand holding a glass of water, half a blister pack of sleeping pills and a well thumbed paperback. A wide window opposite the door, a single couch facing the TV, opposite the bed, a kitchen area beside the door and a small table with three chairs. Hardwood floors, but carpet beneath the bed and white linoleum around the kitchen units. In front of the window a desk covered in paper, and sitting in the chair, a figure hunched over a fresh sheet of paper, scribbling away, completely engrossed, the waning orange light of the evening glowing off his hair, glinting on the nib of the pen, casting a heavy light on the paper, on the words:
Let me tell you a story, about a dancer and a writer, a fairytale of love and happiness, a tale of Jin and Tatsuya.
Tatsuya was a columnist for a small time magazine. He wrote columns every week, talking about whatever he wanted to talk about, whatever he was interested in, he was allowed to write anything as long as he made it interesting, and everyone loved his column. Tatsuya loved his job, he was happy.
Jin worked as a dancer for a company that put on shows all the time. He would act too, telling the story as he danced, he was good, very good, he almost always won the lead role, his dancing was mesmerising, the way he moved was captivating. Jin loved dancing more than anything.
One day, another writer at the magazine was given the job of writing a column about one of Jin’s performances, and asked Tatsuya to go too. Tatsuya agreed and followed his colleague to the performance.
They sat in their seats and watched the whole performance from start to finish. Tatsuya was amazed by how beautiful Jin was when he danced, he found himself unable to take his eyes off him as he moved his feet, his hips, his arms, and when Jin turned his head suddenly to look out at the audience Tatsuya felt as though he couldn’t breathe.
After the performance was over the other writer took Tatsuya with him backstage because as part of the job they had to interview the dancers. They interviewed a lot of dancers before they found Jin. But then when Tatsuya turned around Jin was standing right before him, staring at him.
He couldn’t hear what his colleague was saying, he couldn’t remember the questions that were asked, he could only remember how beautiful Jin was, how deep his eyes were, pulling him in and drowning him.
When the interview was over Tatsuya turned to leave, but Jin caught his arm
“What’s your name?”
“Tatsuya,”
“My name is…”
“I know…Jin,”
When Jin had been dancing he had turned to look at the audience and out of everyone seated in the hall he had caught sight of one face and his chest had felt like it was swelling. This person had such a beautiful face; Jin had almost forgotten to keep dancing.
When the person with the beautiful face had appeared backstage Jin was thrilled, he had such beautiful, mesmerising black eyes, soft looking lips, a delicate pretty curve to his face, and when he thought he might leave he couldn’t stop himself from catching his arm, bringing him back, asking his name.
Jin took Tatsuya out to eat and they got to know each other, Tatsuya told Jin he worked for a magazine, writing a weekly column about the things that interested him. Jin told him he had been dancing with his company for ten years, he had been taught to dance when he was very young and had a natural flair for it.
Tatsuya and Jin began to spend as much time as they could together, whenever they didn’t have to work they were together, they went out together, or they stayed in together, just enjoying being with each other.
Every day Jin would cup Tatsuya’s face in his hands and whisper
“You’re so beautiful,”
Tatsuya had never been happier in his life, whenever he was with Jin his heart beat faster, his body felt lighter, and he couldn’t help but smile. Whenever Jin was with Tatsuya he would smile too, he would hold him close and kiss him and tell him he’d never let go.
There are a few pages now, no longer blank, full of small, precise writing, the figure pauses, the pen poised above the paper, over the next blanks space to be filled with words. But he isn’t looking at the paper anymore, First he looks out of the window, a small sad smile staining his features as the setting sun sets off a gentle orange glow on his skin, his eyes shadowed by his bangs. Then he turns and looks towards the unmade bed and the suitcase that stands beside it. Then he glances round the room, wondering what else needs to be packed, and what can simply be left behind…
“Life is not a fairytale…” his voice is a whisper, a calm, low, gentle sound, soaked in anguish as he turns back to the paper and finally lowers his pen to it…
But life is not a fairytale and for Jin and Tatsuya there is no storybook ending, no castle, no white horse, no rainbows painted by elves…
Maybe there would have been, but for the smallest, seemingly most insignificant of mistakes, a split second of thought.
One morning, the sun shining through the curtains in Tatsuya’s apartment where Jin lay asleep on the bed and Tatsuya stood at the kitchenette making coffee, a mistake was made…
Jin sat up and checked his watch, it was a Saturday, a beautiful day, Tatsuya was listening to the radio as he made coffee, Jin stood and walked to him, wrapping his arms around his waist, kissing the back of his neck.
“I have a rehearsal this morning, I’m sorry, I forgot,”
“That’s okay, I’ll see you afterwards,”
Tatsuya stayed behind, singing along softly with the radio, writing articles and columns for work, moving around his apartment by himself, smiling when he thought of Jin, his arms on his waits, his lips against his skin…
At the theatre hall Jin walked through the doors, expecting to see his fellow dancers, the instructor, people he knew and recognized, instead he found a crowd of dancers he had never seen before. But they were good, the way they moved was beautiful…
He realised then that he must have mixed up his days or his times, another group was using the hall right now. He was going to leave, he was going to walk away, call someone he knew and ask them again when they were supposed to meet up, as he had forgotten…but as he turned he saw…another dancer…
Amongst all the dancers on the stage, stretching, practicing together, talking amongst themselves, was the most beautiful dancer Jin had ever seen in his life. He was only practicing, his bangs stuck to his forehead with sweat, his breathing was laboured, his cheeks flushed. When he stopped he tossed his hair out of his eyes and ran a hand through it, accepting a bottle of water from a fellow dancer with a gorgeous, dazzling smile.
Jin could not stop himself from moving, the dancer was walking across the stage, about to disappear behind the curtain, Jin couldn’t let him disappear, he caught up and found himself reaching out, catching his arm, the dancer turned and stared at him, his rich, hot brown eyes gazing at him in surprise and rapture.
“I’m sorry but…what’s your name?”
“Kazuya,”
This is when the fairytale ceased to be a fairytale and reality crashed down on their story.
Over the next couple of weeks Tatsuya noticed a change, a bad change, a change that caused him to stop smiling, a change that spread a cold feeling through his chest whenever he thought of it. Jin was different, distant, the time they spent together became shorter and less frequent, and when they were together, somehow, they weren’t as happy as they had been before.
Jin no longer held him close to tell him he was beautiful, whenever Jin kissed him it felt as though Jin wasn’t really there, his touches, embraces, the light in his eyes, was all cold, there was barely any warmth between them anymore and Tatsuya couldn’t understand why.
This coldness made him sad, beyond sad, it threatened to break his heart, with every thought, every movement, he felt his heart crack just a little bit more. He didn’t want this, this feeling that chilled and cracked his heart, he wanted to fix it, to be happy again, so he went to see Jin, after a dance rehearsal at the theatre hall.
When he arrived he stepped quietly inside, in case they weren’t quite finished yet. He could see Jin, standing in front of the stage, speaking to another dancer, Jin was smiling, he seemed warm, the way Tatsuya used to see him all the time.
Tatsuya wanted to walk to him, to smile and hug him, he wanted to talk to him, fix whatever had broken between them…until he saw Jin wrap his arms around the other dancer, and the other dancer hugged him back, tightening his arms around Jin’s neck, standing on his toes to bring them closer.
Closing his eyes and turning away Tatsuya left the hall and went home. He locked his door and turned out the lights. His phone rang but not once did he move to answer it, he had no idea who was calling him, and he didn’t care.
The next day at work Tatsuya’s colleague, the same writer who had taken him to the performance where he met Jin, came to tell him about an even bigger performance he will be writing about. Tatsuya said he doesn’t want to go this time. The colleague showed him the information on the production. Two different groups would be working together to make the performance bigger and more spectacular. Clipped to the sheaf of paper were some pictures with sticky labels. Tatsuya asked to see them, Jin’s face was at the top of the pile, and the next one down was…the dancer…the one had seen the day before…his name was…
Kazuya…
The next day Tatsuya and Jin went out to eat together, but instead of being pleased that they would finally spend some time together Tatsuya felt as though a knife were embedded in his chest, somehow, he knew this was an end…
Jin seemed distant again, and now Tatsuya knew why, his head was filled not with Tatsuya, but with Kazuya. Tatsuya watched him stare out of the window, at his food, barely looking at him, he wondered if that meant he felt guilty. Tatsuya mentions the big production coming up, Jin didn’t seem to be paying attention, and Tatsuya wondered just how to mention Kazuya, when…Jin’s phone beeped, alerting him of an incoming message…
“Is that Kazuya?”
Jin was shocked, how did Tatsuya know about Kazuya…but if he knew about the performance…
“Yes,”
“He must miss you,”
Again, Jin was shocked, he didn’t understand why Tatsuya was saying these things, did this mean he knew about…
Tatsuya asked Jin if Kazuya knew about him, if he knew Jin was seeing Tatsuya. Jin didn’t want to admit what he was doing, so he said he did, that most of the dancers probably knew. Tatsuya knew he was avoiding the truth and somehow that hurt even more.
“Please don’t lie to me Jin, you can’t keep doing this, you’re hurting us both, Kazuya and I, you have to choose between us,”
Even though he told Jin that, he knew who he would choose, so he left Jin there, he left the restaurant, and he went home. Jin may have called him, but he didn’t answer his phone. He didn’t want Jin to choose Kazuya, more than anything he wanted Jin to choose him, to hold him close and tell him again that he was beautiful and that he loved him. He wished Jin would hold him close, but he knew Kazuya was the only one Jin would hold close now…
When the article on the performance comes out Tatsuya reads it, and sees the pictures of Jin, of Kazuya, of the two of them, their fingers entwined, they look happy together, his colleague mentions in the article that they are together…
His heart shattered Tatsuya wanted only to curl up and cry until the end of time, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t let himself stay broken. Jin would never be there to fix him, so he would have to do it himself. He packed up his things, making the decision to leave Tokyo. He didn’t tell Jin, he didn’t tell his colleagues, he didn’t tell his boss, instead he would leave behind one last story, as a goodbye to the life he led in Tokyo before he moved on.
The figure, running a hand through his copper hair, stood from his desk and put all the sheaves of paper in order on the desk. He would leave the door unlocked, whoever came looking for him would find the story, his name scrawled at the bottom of the last page.
He pulled on his jacket, packed the last of his things into the suitcase and left the apartment, but not before returning to the pile of paper that held his final story and adding a title at the top of the page.
As the door clicked shut and the sound of his footsteps echoed away to nothing down the corridor the red-orange glow of the tail end of the sunset washed over the title, glinting in dazzling highlights off the ink as it dried:
東京童話
(Tokyo Fairytale)
おわり