Something Fishy (1/2)
Title: Something Fishy (1/2)
Rating: PG
Genre: AU (Highschool), fluff, friendship
Pairing: Sakumiya, Yama (friendship)
Length: One-Shot (within a series) ~10500 words
Summary: It's hard for Sho not to notice how worn out Nino has been lately. When he notices the strange smell coming off him and sees third-year Ohno at their classroom door asking for him, Sho has a feeling something fishy is going on...
Three Years (tentatively called) - Series
Cold Skin
Falling
Do not need to be read beforehand to understand this one, but there are definitely some references (Cold Skin is set chronologically after both)
Author Notes: Ah! How long has it been? 2 months?? I'm so sorry!! This has been in the making for a while but I just could never get around to finishing it with my exams coming up. By the end of it I sorta rushed through writing it but I hope it's still ok (also, did I write this entire chapter just to introduce Ohno?) Since it's mostly from Sho's perspective and he hasn't really fully come into his feelings for Nino yet, it's mostly friendship-py. But I tried to include hints at Nino's crush on him too. Due to my exams, I'll be out for the next two weeks but I hope to come back with another story about these two soon. Also I'm thinking of creating a separate livejournal to keep my fics on. I apologise for any mistakes in my writing, I hope you enjoy it!
Part II
Something Fishy
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“Nino.”
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“Nino!”
The boy sitting across from Sho jerked awake with a start to the sound of his pen tapping against the side of the table. Nino looked around himself with tired eyes. As realisation slowly sunk in as to where he was, he hung his head with a sigh.
The two sat at a low table in Sho’s room. It was neat, sufferably so. Definitely roomier than what Nino had expected for a boy his age, although he knew what he was in for as soon as the roof of his house had peeked into view from all the way down the street.
However unduly large the house was, the Sakurai home’s true grandeur could only be fully appreciated from within. Polished marble floors, oil paintings adorned with golden frames as elaborate as the art itself and grandiose chandeliers that tinkled light down from the ceiling; the whole shebang (Nino half-expected maids to greet them with a rehearsed ‘welcome home, young master’). It was a house that simply oozed money.
Nino felt out of place and not to mention a little embarrassed seeing how he had dragged Sho through his own less-than-humble home little more than a week ago, not knowing the full extent of the Sakurai family’s affluence. But even so, Sho never looked at him differently and Nino was grateful for that.
Though he was definitely looking slightly miffed at that moment.
Annoyed but admittedly amused, Sho leaned across the table and hit his head lightly with a pen.
“What are you doing falling asleep on me,” Sho chided him. “You’re the one that wanted me to tutor you, weren’t you?’
“I wasn’t sleeping,” the other boy denied, waving his pen away. “I was just closing my eyes for a bit.”
Sho gave a tired chuckle and poked the other boy playfully on the forehead, “Liar.” Of course Nino would try to lie even as he was rubbing the bleariness from his eyes.
But Sho’s amused expression soon gave way to one of worry and confusion.
Nino’s recent bouts of drowsiness hadn’t gone unnoticed by him. More often than not when he glanced back at Nino during class, his head would be resting against his table or his eyes on the verge of fluttering close as he lazily watched the clouds unfurl outside. He took more naps too, Sho noted, whether at lunch or at club where he would usually be inseparable from his DS. He slept even when Aiba was being loud beside him, and Aiba could be really loud.
An air of lethargy clung to him constantly in the way he spoke and acted, a heaviness to his steps that had not been there before. And then there were his eyes, specifically the dark rings beneath them. They stood out almost painfully on his fair skin.
But whenever he asked him about it, Nino dismissed his concerns with a “nothing” or “none of your business”. Even if he didn’t tell him though, Sho could see how worn out he was.
Nino noticed him staring.
“What is it?” he said, averting his eyes from Sho’s gaze, fidgeting with his fingers.
“Nothing,” the other boy replied quickly.
Shuffling around the papers on the table, Sho cleared his throat to dispel the awkward tension that had settled over the conversation.
“Shall we get back to it?” he motioned to the worksheets in his hand. Across from him, Nino nodded.
English, Sho thought, English was what he had to focus on now. There was no point in trying to get the other boy to confide in him. He was the most unyielding person he had ever met, frustrating at times but he liked that about him. Nino would talk to him when he felt comfortable, and Sho was okay with that.
“What’s the difference between the usages of the words ‘further’ and ‘farther’?” he quizzed him, reading the question off the sheet.
When no answer came, he looked up to see Nino dozing off.
“Oi!”
The boy’s eyes opened and he flashed Sho a cheeky grin.
“Just kidding.”
= = = = =
It became a regular thing for Sho to sit with Aiba and Nino during lunchtimes at school, and sometimes beforehand too. If you asked him about it, he would call them his friends…tentatively. Whether they regarded him as their friend he just couldn’t assume. Even thinking about it made Sho mildly anxious.
Nino confused him. One moment he acted cold, another he would be playfully teasing Sho into red-faced oblivion. He didn’t let Sho touch him, but sometimes he initiated skin-ship himself. The line between acquaintance and friend didn’t seem very clear-cut with him. And what if Aiba acted this way around everyone? Maybe he was just a super accommodating guy that lent a hand to every student in distress that came his way.
But it didn’t take long at all for him to settle in with Aiba’s rapid, fast-firing rhythm. The tall boy was the embodiment of fun, and it was entertaining for the other to watch him clamouring about something or other. Somehow he always found something to shout about. Sho had resolved to not think about it anymore, even if the thoughts creeped into his mind every once in a while. Whether or not he had friends, he was still having fun.
Aiba sat perched on his chair, regaling the other two with the misadventures of his puppy, Hime, as half-chewed lunch rolled about in his open gob. Sho would have scolded him for talking with his mouth full if he had been able to find an appropriate moment to interrupt his chatter. Instead he resigned himself to sitting back and absorbing the energy the other boy exuded.
But he found it a little hard to concentrate on Aiba’s stories when a fishy smell began to pervade the air.
Sho looked at the boy beside him. Nino was awake this time, though just barely. Even as Sho watched him, his head began to nod off several times before jolting back into consciousness. His hair was a mess, his clothes wrinkled, and his lunch even more half-arsed than usual. And Sho suspected, though confused as to why he might be giving off such a horrid smell.
“Nino?”
“Hmm?” the boy idly hummed his reply, eyes not leaving the bento box in his lap.
Without warning Sho leaned forward, pressing his face close to the other’s body. At the sudden intrusion of his personal space, Nino jerked back, body tensing up, heart racing and eyes wide.
If he wasn’t awake before he was now. Very awake.
“W-What are you doing, Sakurai?” he stammered, red beginning to colour his face.
“You smell like fish,” Sho answered plainly.
Nino gaped down at him with a look of pure bewilderment and embarrassment.
“…Come again?”
“You sorta smell of fish.”
Sho sat back against his seat, eyebrows slightly knotted in confusion. “Why?” he asked, head slightly tilted to one side.
Nino’s face was fully flushed now.
“Don’t try to act cute,” Nino rebuked him, looking away. “It’s not very polite to go around smelling people like that.”
“People don’t usually go around smelling of fish,” Sho countered.
“It’s none of your business anyways.”
Sho pouted. Nino’s defences were up again, though he couldn’t really say he was surprised. He was about to launch into a second round of questioning when their conversation was interrupted.
“Nino! Ohno-senpai wants to talk with you,” a girl in their class called to them.
“Coming!” he called back, jumping up with a thinly veiled expression of relief. Looking back, he pointed a finger at Sho. “Boundaries. Respect them, Sakurai.”
Sho watched him as he darted across the room to the door where an older boy waited, most likely a third-year and apparently named Ohno. Sho didn’t recognise him. He was small, maybe even shorter than Nino, maybe thinner too. He had a look of perpetual sleepiness and a puffy face that betrayed his age. As a person, he didn’t really appear to stand out. But what really caught Sho’s eye was the closeness between him and his junior.
What happened to personal space, Nino, he thought to himself.
In the time he had spent with him, although little, he had never seen him talk at length with anyone outside of him and Aiba, or the club members. He didn’t strike Sho as a very social butterfly. But here he was, grinning, chattering, hands slapping shoulders and poking cheeks. It was definitely unusual.
He turned to the boy beside him, nudging Aiba in the leg.
“Hey, who’s that?” he said, nodding his head towards the door.
Aiba thought for a moment. “Ohno Satoshi, I think,” he said. “A third year.”
“What’s he doing with Nino?”
“Dunno,” the boy shrugged before shooting Sho a mischievous look. “Are you jealous?”
“Of course not,” Sho grumbled. But if he were speaking honestly, he had to admit he was a little jealous.
Aiba chuckled at his reaction. “Well, I don’t really know much about the guy,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “I just know his family owns the fishmonger.”
“Fishmonger?” Sho’s ears perked.
“Yeah. I see him around there whenever my mom makes me go shopping with her.”
“I see…”
Sho’s head sunk down onto his hand. He wondered whether Nino’s fishy smell was connected to this Ohno Satoshi somehow. Though he didn’t know why Nino would be spending time with Ohno, let alone at a fishmonger. But there must have been some kind of link.
“Oh, also one other thing,” Aiba started, disturbing him from his thoughts.
“Yeah?”
“He’s really, really good at sports,” a grin began to spread on his face. “Unlike a certain someone.”
“I’m not that bad!”
But even as he jokingly shoved at the cackling Aiba, Sho was still happy that there was someone who could say that, because it meant someone had cared enough to notice.
“Hey Aiba,” Sho started tentatively but speaking fast enough so he didn’t give himself enough time to back down. “We’re friends, right?”
“What else would we be?” Aiba answered casually through another mouthful of food.
Sho nodded, trying to hide his giddiness. His rationality told himself that it was foolish to feel so happy over an offhanded remark such as that, but he couldn’t help it. It was in his nature.
He let a wide grin break out on his face. “Don’t eat with your mouth full.”
= = = = =
It was raining hard when Sho noticed something was wrong.
It was a weekend, and his parents were away in Tokyo for his father’s work. Nino was sitting at his table again, and their English homework for the week was spread out across the table in front of them. They worked silently, but the rain battering against the windows was overpowering. Everything was much too loud, and Sho could feel an ache building up in the back of his head.
Grunting, he got to his feet.
“I’m gonna get a glass of water, want anything?” Sho asked, looking across at Nino. But what he saw startled him.
Nino was looking far worse than he had that morning, worse than he had all week. His face was pale, all the colour drained from his face. The rings underneath his eyes were deeper and darker, and tinged with an unhealthy green. And despite the chill of the room, the fringe of his hair was damp with sweat.
Sho’s brow creased in worry. “Nino, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” the boy replied without looking up at him.
Sho bent down, and placed the back of his hand against the other’s forehead. It was burning.
“You’re not fine,” Sho said, concern ripe in his voice. “You’re running a temperature.”
The boy batted his hand away. “You know, you really gotta start warning people before you start touching them like that.”
“Nino, get serious,” Sho said firmly. “You have a fever.”
Nino grunted dismissively in reply.
Sho stood up. Pacing the room, he thought about the best thing to do in such a situation. No one else was home so he would have to take care of this himself; he couldn’t trust Nino to take care of himself any better than he had the last couple of weeks. The boy in question watched him with narrowed eyes until Sho suddenly stopped and tried to pull him to his feet.
“Come on,” he said. “You should rest in my bed.”
“It’s okay,” Nino brushed away his hands again, a little irritated. “I can go home and sleep in my own bed.”
“Not in this weather you’re not.”
They both looked out the window. The rain hadn’t ceased, and if anything had only begun coming down harder. After a long silence, Nino begrudgingly agreed and let him lead him to his bed. But when Sho tried to tuck him in, he hit his hand away again mumbling that he could do it himself.
Ignoring him, Sho muttered a quick, “Stay here,” before rushing out of the room.
As he dashed about the house, gathering the things he needed to tend to the sick boy lying in his bed, he ticked the items off the list in his mind. He hadn’t been in the house long, and it being so large he found himself stumbling around for simple things like towels and buckets. Breathlessly, he rummaged through drawers and cupboards. Nino had been acting difficult but Sho didn’t falter in his actions. He had a duty after all; Nino was his friend, whether he saw Sho as his or not.
He returned quickly to Nino holding a tub of tepid water, a thermometer between his teeth and hand towels clutched to his sides. It was a pleasant surprise to see him cooperating so well after his return, the boy obediently taking the thermometer when given. Soaking the towels in the water, Sho wrung one out and gently wiped away the sweat on Nino’s face.
“You’re such a mother hen, Sakurai,” the younger boy mumbled through the thermometer in his mouth.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Sho said with a jesting bow of his head. He replaced the moist towel in his hand for another, folding and positioning it on the other boy’s forehead. Taking the thermometer from Nino he checked his temperature with a frown. 39.5°C.
Sho held out his hand, “Arm please.”
Nino stuck it out promptly. Sho sponged down his arm with a damp towel, and the other arm as well when the boy held it out without being asked. Nino’s eyes followed his actions with a wry smile.
“Don’t look so worried,” Nino said, cocking his head. “You’re so serious all the time. You’ll get wrinkles.”
“A fever can be a very serious thing, Nino,” Sho responded, tucking his arm back underneath the blanket. He shot the other boy a knowing look. “This is what happens when you don’t get enough sleep.”
“When are you going to stop bringing that up already,” Nino grumbled petulantly, pushing his face into the pillow.
“When it stops interfering with your health.”
Nino said nothing. Sho sighed and got to his feet.
“I don’t think the rain is gonna let up any time soon,” he said, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “My parents aren’t home so it should be no problem if you stay over. But you should probably call your mom or something. Maybe she can pick you up.”
“No need,” Nino replied softly, his voice muffled by the pillows.
“Huh?”
The boy’s head turned to face the ceiling, staring with distant eyes. “I said, no need. Your parents aren’t the only ones working you know, though they’re probably not going for the minimum wage,” he said, a derisive edge in his voice. “She’s working until morning tonight, probably won’t even notice I’m not home.”
Sho fell silent. He had never really fully considered Nino’s situation before. Finally, after fumbling for the right words, he quietly said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
Nino waved away his apology.
“You know I have one too.”
Sho raised an eyebrow. “One what?”
“Job. Part-time,” Nino said blankly. He sighed, “I guess it’s about time I told you about it anyways.”
“Is that why you’ve been tired all this time?”
He nodded giving an affirmative sound. “5-8am then 6-10pm on weekdays, more hours on the weekend,” he counted on his fingers. “Add on top of that school, club, our little study sessions and all our homework, there isn’t much time for sleep. Or games, for that matter, unfortunately. Ah, now that I think about it, I probably won’t be able to make my shift tomorrow.”
“Even at a time like this you’re worrying about that,” Sho said quietly with disbelief. “They shouldn’t be making you work all those hours.”
“It’s nothing like that, I asked for those hours myself. The Ohnos are good people.”
“Ohno? You’re working at the fishmonger?”
“You said it yourself, didn’t you? That I smelt of fish,” Nino chuckled slightly. “I don’t really get much time to shower either.”
Sho exhaled, shaking his head slightly. “Still, you shouldn’t be working all those hours. It’s one thing to work, it’s another to work to the point of exhaustion. It’s just wrong.”
“But it’s something I have to do,” Nino spoke adamantly.
“Why though?” the older boy questioned, brow wrinkled in confusion and concern.
“We’re different, you and me. You get all this,” he said, casting his eyes around Sho’s room, much too lavish for a teenage boy.
Nino paused for a moment, the words hovering on his lips. “I’m not so lucky,” he whispered.
There was silence between them after that. Sho stared down at his hands, feeling almost guilty for the privileges and ignorance he had enjoyed up until that point. Even though he was older, Nino was working ten times harder than he was and there was still nothing he could do for his situation, even after everything Nino had done for him. Sho cursed himself for being so helpless.
He heard Nino shift in his bed. He seemed to have finally fallen asleep, his eyes closed and lips slightly parted. A shiver rippled through his body despite the heat of his fever. With tender hands, Sho dabbed away the sweat on his forehead with the towel before placing a fresh one on his head. He got up to let him sleep in peace but when he was about to leave the room he heard Nino speak.
“Sho, thank you.”
His voice was soft and Sho could hardly hear him over the rain but he was certain of what he had heard. He grinned to himself as he closed the door behind him, a warm feeling swelling in his chest.
Even if he was half-asleep or perhaps delirious, Nino had definitely called him by his first name.
= = = = =
Somehow or other, Sho had made it.
And with a glance down at his watch, it seemed he had made it with time to spare. It was still dark, but in the light haze skirting the edges of the horizon he could see the beginnings of a new day. The air was thick with yesterday’s rain, the town blanketed in a sheen of droplets, the streets misted over and glowing in the approaching morning.
4:52 am.
It was much too early for anyone to do anything, let alone for a teenage boy to try to find his way through the dark winding streets of an unfamiliar town by himself. He didn’t know how Nino had managed it every day.
Though he was probably not as hopeless as Sho was.
“You’re not going anywhere, Sakurai!” Nino had shouted from his bed, a little louder than Sho cared for at four in the morning.
“You’re still sick, you still have work, and if I can’t get you to quit then I might as well do something helpful,” he had replied in a frank tone, throwing on a warm jacket before leaning down to look Nino in the eye, ruffling a hand through the boy’s hair. “Sakurai-sensei is prescribing you some well-earned bed rest, so be good okay?”
Nino had slowly grown more flustered with each passing moment, becoming red in the face.
“Referring to yourself in third person like that makes you sound like a prick,” he then bit back.
In response Sho had only waved with a slight smile before closing his bedroom door, leaving Nino alone to his own devices within the safety of his room. That was only if he listened to him of course, which was unlikely. But Sho had spotted no shadow trailing his steps, so, so far so good.
Somehow though, he kind of wished he was back with Nino, instead of shivering out on the streets all alone.
He looked up towards the shop’s sign where its name was printed in large blocks of English letters rather than Japanese.
OHNO’S FRESH FISH
He was definitely in the right place. But what had him confused was the painting next to the sign. It was a fish with a man’s body, or perhaps a man with a fish's head. But it wasn’t just any man, it was a man with little to show for decency except a pair of bright red briefs that clad his nether regions.
“…Charming,” Sho said quietly to himself.
He squinted through the shop window. The lights in the store were off and there was no one in sight, fish or human. He reached for the door handle experimentally, but it was still locked. Sho wondered how long he would have to keep waiting in the cold when a small voice spoke up from behind him.
“Excuse me? Do you need something?”
Sho jumped at the noise. He spun around (a little too quickly) to find himself face-to-face with Ohno Satoshi. Half in his pyjamas, he held a closed umbrella in one hand and a book in the other. He looked bored, gazing upon the other boy with slight disinterest. But Sho couldn’t tell whether that was how he actually felt or just the way his face was.
Sho bowed to his senior, and stuck out his hand.
“I’m Ninomiya Kazunari’s classmate, Sakurai Sho, nice to meet you.”
“Ah, you too,” Ohno stumbled forward to accept his greeting, awkwardly moving his book from one hand to the other. “Nino’s friend, huh?”
“I’m afraid he has taken ill but I am prepared to work in his place,” Sho explained, deepening his bow. “So please, continue to pay him for these hours.”
Ohno glanced about unsurely, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Ah. Is that so? I hope he gets well soon.”
With hesitant motions, the older boy pointed towards the store. “Um, you can come in if you like. And speak to my parents.”
Without waiting for Sho’s response, Ohno went ahead, moving around the side of the store down a narrow alleyway with quick, shuffling steps. Sho followed him towards a side door. The stink of rotting fish assailed him, the store most likely making use of the huddle of garbage bins further down the alley. They were at a distinct disadvantage being downwind. Sho’s hand made to cover his nose but thought better of it for it might have been deemed impolite. Ohno however, seemed unfazed. It didn’t really seem like he would have noticed, and if he did he probably wouldn’t have cared.
After a brief struggle with the keys, the door opened and Sho was bathed with sudden light. He stood there blinking for a moment, trying to adjust to its brightness. In the glare he could see two small figures.
“Ah, Satoshi, you’re here,” a man’s voice sounded, creaking with age.
“Oh, who’s this?” someone else said, a woman this time. “Where’s Kazu-chan?”
As the glare of the light faded, two people came into focus, presumably Ohno’s parents. They resembled their son, or perhaps it would be more appropriate to say that he looked just like his parents. Deep creases had settled on his father’s face, wizened by age, at the corners of his eyes and down the curve of his cheeks. His eyes drooped, sloping towards the sides of his face as if sleepy. But the sharp glint of his eye whispered at the vigour his old age hid.
Ohno’s mother was similar. Her smile shone and her skin glowed, radiating raw energy despite her years. A rosy blush coloured her round cheeks. She had a kind softness to her but at the same time Sho saw the strength behind her stooped figure and shuffling steps. She was a force to be reckoned with.
Sho corrected himself mentally in his head. While Ohno definitely looked like them, he didn’t seem to inherit the spirit his parents possessed.
“Nino is sick,” the older boy answered simply, before making his way across the room to hang up his jacket. Sho stared after him as he went, waiting to see whether he would explain beyond his clipped reply but no dice. A man of few words, I guess, Sho thought to himself.
“Good morning, I’m Sakurai Sho,” he said, bending at a right angle. He explained the situation to them like he had to the couple’s son just a moment ago and as he did, the older Ohnos’ brows knitted together in worry. “I hope you will allow me to work in his place for today,” Sho finished off, straightening up and praying they wouldn’t reject his offer.
But instead, they seemed to ignore him quite entirely.
Ohno’s mother turned to her husband, slapping his arm. “I told you not to let that boy work so much,” she scolded him. “I told you, didn’t I? Now look at what’s happened.”
“He begged me for those hours,” Ohno’s father threw up his hands in his defence. “I told the kid ‘no’ but he just kept asking for more, what was I supposed to do?”
She just shook her head, having none of it.
“Shop is opening soon, but believe me, we’re going to talk about this later,” she said forcibly, grabbing her apron from the table and tying it behind her waist before making her way from the room. “It’s our fault poor Kazu-chan got sick, we need to do something about it.”
Sho winced, wondering whether he had dome something he shouldn’t have.
The older Ohno left in the room scratched the back of his head with a sigh, a silence settling over the room. Sho wondered whether he should speak up when the man suddenly turned, looking the boy up and down. Sho shifted awkwardly under his scrutinising gaze.
“Sho-kun, was it?” he said, scratching the sparse white stubble on his chin.
“Yes, sir.”
The man gave a hearty chuckle at his punctual response. He motioned to his son leaning on the wall across the room. His presence was so soft that Sho had almost forgotten he was there.
“You can help Satoshi around today,” Ohno’s father said. “He’ll show you the ropes.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You seem like a good kid, Sho-kun,” he remarked with a thoughtful look. “Satoshi, there’s a new shipment in the back of the truck,” he continued, this time to his son. “Unload it with Sho-kun, would you?”
And with that, he shuffled out of the room leaving the two alone, holding a large cleaver Sho had never noticed before. He wondered whether the man had always been holding it, and if not at what point during their conversation had it come to be in his possession.
“Don’t worry, Sho-kun,” Ohno interrupted his thoughts with a light touch on the shoulder. “It’s only used on the fish.”
Sho could only stare at the older boy’s face incredulously. How had he been able to know what he was thinking? Magic? In response, Ohno only returned his bewilderment with a knowing smile.
“Follow me out back.”
>Part II
Rating: PG
Genre: AU (Highschool), fluff, friendship
Pairing: Sakumiya, Yama (friendship)
Length: One-Shot (within a series) ~10500 words
Summary: It's hard for Sho not to notice how worn out Nino has been lately. When he notices the strange smell coming off him and sees third-year Ohno at their classroom door asking for him, Sho has a feeling something fishy is going on...
Three Years (tentatively called) - Series
Cold Skin
Falling
Do not need to be read beforehand to understand this one, but there are definitely some references (Cold Skin is set chronologically after both)
Author Notes: Ah! How long has it been? 2 months?? I'm so sorry!! This has been in the making for a while but I just could never get around to finishing it with my exams coming up. By the end of it I sorta rushed through writing it but I hope it's still ok (also, did I write this entire chapter just to introduce Ohno?) Since it's mostly from Sho's perspective and he hasn't really fully come into his feelings for Nino yet, it's mostly friendship-py. But I tried to include hints at Nino's crush on him too. Due to my exams, I'll be out for the next two weeks but I hope to come back with another story about these two soon. Also I'm thinking of creating a separate livejournal to keep my fics on. I apologise for any mistakes in my writing, I hope you enjoy it!
Part II
Something Fishy
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“Nino.”
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“Nino!”
The boy sitting across from Sho jerked awake with a start to the sound of his pen tapping against the side of the table. Nino looked around himself with tired eyes. As realisation slowly sunk in as to where he was, he hung his head with a sigh.
The two sat at a low table in Sho’s room. It was neat, sufferably so. Definitely roomier than what Nino had expected for a boy his age, although he knew what he was in for as soon as the roof of his house had peeked into view from all the way down the street.
However unduly large the house was, the Sakurai home’s true grandeur could only be fully appreciated from within. Polished marble floors, oil paintings adorned with golden frames as elaborate as the art itself and grandiose chandeliers that tinkled light down from the ceiling; the whole shebang (Nino half-expected maids to greet them with a rehearsed ‘welcome home, young master’). It was a house that simply oozed money.
Nino felt out of place and not to mention a little embarrassed seeing how he had dragged Sho through his own less-than-humble home little more than a week ago, not knowing the full extent of the Sakurai family’s affluence. But even so, Sho never looked at him differently and Nino was grateful for that.
Though he was definitely looking slightly miffed at that moment.
Annoyed but admittedly amused, Sho leaned across the table and hit his head lightly with a pen.
“What are you doing falling asleep on me,” Sho chided him. “You’re the one that wanted me to tutor you, weren’t you?’
“I wasn’t sleeping,” the other boy denied, waving his pen away. “I was just closing my eyes for a bit.”
Sho gave a tired chuckle and poked the other boy playfully on the forehead, “Liar.” Of course Nino would try to lie even as he was rubbing the bleariness from his eyes.
But Sho’s amused expression soon gave way to one of worry and confusion.
Nino’s recent bouts of drowsiness hadn’t gone unnoticed by him. More often than not when he glanced back at Nino during class, his head would be resting against his table or his eyes on the verge of fluttering close as he lazily watched the clouds unfurl outside. He took more naps too, Sho noted, whether at lunch or at club where he would usually be inseparable from his DS. He slept even when Aiba was being loud beside him, and Aiba could be really loud.
An air of lethargy clung to him constantly in the way he spoke and acted, a heaviness to his steps that had not been there before. And then there were his eyes, specifically the dark rings beneath them. They stood out almost painfully on his fair skin.
But whenever he asked him about it, Nino dismissed his concerns with a “nothing” or “none of your business”. Even if he didn’t tell him though, Sho could see how worn out he was.
Nino noticed him staring.
“What is it?” he said, averting his eyes from Sho’s gaze, fidgeting with his fingers.
“Nothing,” the other boy replied quickly.
Shuffling around the papers on the table, Sho cleared his throat to dispel the awkward tension that had settled over the conversation.
“Shall we get back to it?” he motioned to the worksheets in his hand. Across from him, Nino nodded.
English, Sho thought, English was what he had to focus on now. There was no point in trying to get the other boy to confide in him. He was the most unyielding person he had ever met, frustrating at times but he liked that about him. Nino would talk to him when he felt comfortable, and Sho was okay with that.
“What’s the difference between the usages of the words ‘further’ and ‘farther’?” he quizzed him, reading the question off the sheet.
When no answer came, he looked up to see Nino dozing off.
“Oi!”
The boy’s eyes opened and he flashed Sho a cheeky grin.
“Just kidding.”
= = = = =
It became a regular thing for Sho to sit with Aiba and Nino during lunchtimes at school, and sometimes beforehand too. If you asked him about it, he would call them his friends…tentatively. Whether they regarded him as their friend he just couldn’t assume. Even thinking about it made Sho mildly anxious.
Nino confused him. One moment he acted cold, another he would be playfully teasing Sho into red-faced oblivion. He didn’t let Sho touch him, but sometimes he initiated skin-ship himself. The line between acquaintance and friend didn’t seem very clear-cut with him. And what if Aiba acted this way around everyone? Maybe he was just a super accommodating guy that lent a hand to every student in distress that came his way.
But it didn’t take long at all for him to settle in with Aiba’s rapid, fast-firing rhythm. The tall boy was the embodiment of fun, and it was entertaining for the other to watch him clamouring about something or other. Somehow he always found something to shout about. Sho had resolved to not think about it anymore, even if the thoughts creeped into his mind every once in a while. Whether or not he had friends, he was still having fun.
Aiba sat perched on his chair, regaling the other two with the misadventures of his puppy, Hime, as half-chewed lunch rolled about in his open gob. Sho would have scolded him for talking with his mouth full if he had been able to find an appropriate moment to interrupt his chatter. Instead he resigned himself to sitting back and absorbing the energy the other boy exuded.
But he found it a little hard to concentrate on Aiba’s stories when a fishy smell began to pervade the air.
Sho looked at the boy beside him. Nino was awake this time, though just barely. Even as Sho watched him, his head began to nod off several times before jolting back into consciousness. His hair was a mess, his clothes wrinkled, and his lunch even more half-arsed than usual. And Sho suspected, though confused as to why he might be giving off such a horrid smell.
“Nino?”
“Hmm?” the boy idly hummed his reply, eyes not leaving the bento box in his lap.
Without warning Sho leaned forward, pressing his face close to the other’s body. At the sudden intrusion of his personal space, Nino jerked back, body tensing up, heart racing and eyes wide.
If he wasn’t awake before he was now. Very awake.
“W-What are you doing, Sakurai?” he stammered, red beginning to colour his face.
“You smell like fish,” Sho answered plainly.
Nino gaped down at him with a look of pure bewilderment and embarrassment.
“…Come again?”
“You sorta smell of fish.”
Sho sat back against his seat, eyebrows slightly knotted in confusion. “Why?” he asked, head slightly tilted to one side.
Nino’s face was fully flushed now.
“Don’t try to act cute,” Nino rebuked him, looking away. “It’s not very polite to go around smelling people like that.”
“People don’t usually go around smelling of fish,” Sho countered.
“It’s none of your business anyways.”
Sho pouted. Nino’s defences were up again, though he couldn’t really say he was surprised. He was about to launch into a second round of questioning when their conversation was interrupted.
“Nino! Ohno-senpai wants to talk with you,” a girl in their class called to them.
“Coming!” he called back, jumping up with a thinly veiled expression of relief. Looking back, he pointed a finger at Sho. “Boundaries. Respect them, Sakurai.”
Sho watched him as he darted across the room to the door where an older boy waited, most likely a third-year and apparently named Ohno. Sho didn’t recognise him. He was small, maybe even shorter than Nino, maybe thinner too. He had a look of perpetual sleepiness and a puffy face that betrayed his age. As a person, he didn’t really appear to stand out. But what really caught Sho’s eye was the closeness between him and his junior.
What happened to personal space, Nino, he thought to himself.
In the time he had spent with him, although little, he had never seen him talk at length with anyone outside of him and Aiba, or the club members. He didn’t strike Sho as a very social butterfly. But here he was, grinning, chattering, hands slapping shoulders and poking cheeks. It was definitely unusual.
He turned to the boy beside him, nudging Aiba in the leg.
“Hey, who’s that?” he said, nodding his head towards the door.
Aiba thought for a moment. “Ohno Satoshi, I think,” he said. “A third year.”
“What’s he doing with Nino?”
“Dunno,” the boy shrugged before shooting Sho a mischievous look. “Are you jealous?”
“Of course not,” Sho grumbled. But if he were speaking honestly, he had to admit he was a little jealous.
Aiba chuckled at his reaction. “Well, I don’t really know much about the guy,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “I just know his family owns the fishmonger.”
“Fishmonger?” Sho’s ears perked.
“Yeah. I see him around there whenever my mom makes me go shopping with her.”
“I see…”
Sho’s head sunk down onto his hand. He wondered whether Nino’s fishy smell was connected to this Ohno Satoshi somehow. Though he didn’t know why Nino would be spending time with Ohno, let alone at a fishmonger. But there must have been some kind of link.
“Oh, also one other thing,” Aiba started, disturbing him from his thoughts.
“Yeah?”
“He’s really, really good at sports,” a grin began to spread on his face. “Unlike a certain someone.”
“I’m not that bad!”
But even as he jokingly shoved at the cackling Aiba, Sho was still happy that there was someone who could say that, because it meant someone had cared enough to notice.
“Hey Aiba,” Sho started tentatively but speaking fast enough so he didn’t give himself enough time to back down. “We’re friends, right?”
“What else would we be?” Aiba answered casually through another mouthful of food.
Sho nodded, trying to hide his giddiness. His rationality told himself that it was foolish to feel so happy over an offhanded remark such as that, but he couldn’t help it. It was in his nature.
He let a wide grin break out on his face. “Don’t eat with your mouth full.”
= = = = =
It was raining hard when Sho noticed something was wrong.
It was a weekend, and his parents were away in Tokyo for his father’s work. Nino was sitting at his table again, and their English homework for the week was spread out across the table in front of them. They worked silently, but the rain battering against the windows was overpowering. Everything was much too loud, and Sho could feel an ache building up in the back of his head.
Grunting, he got to his feet.
“I’m gonna get a glass of water, want anything?” Sho asked, looking across at Nino. But what he saw startled him.
Nino was looking far worse than he had that morning, worse than he had all week. His face was pale, all the colour drained from his face. The rings underneath his eyes were deeper and darker, and tinged with an unhealthy green. And despite the chill of the room, the fringe of his hair was damp with sweat.
Sho’s brow creased in worry. “Nino, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” the boy replied without looking up at him.
Sho bent down, and placed the back of his hand against the other’s forehead. It was burning.
“You’re not fine,” Sho said, concern ripe in his voice. “You’re running a temperature.”
The boy batted his hand away. “You know, you really gotta start warning people before you start touching them like that.”
“Nino, get serious,” Sho said firmly. “You have a fever.”
Nino grunted dismissively in reply.
Sho stood up. Pacing the room, he thought about the best thing to do in such a situation. No one else was home so he would have to take care of this himself; he couldn’t trust Nino to take care of himself any better than he had the last couple of weeks. The boy in question watched him with narrowed eyes until Sho suddenly stopped and tried to pull him to his feet.
“Come on,” he said. “You should rest in my bed.”
“It’s okay,” Nino brushed away his hands again, a little irritated. “I can go home and sleep in my own bed.”
“Not in this weather you’re not.”
They both looked out the window. The rain hadn’t ceased, and if anything had only begun coming down harder. After a long silence, Nino begrudgingly agreed and let him lead him to his bed. But when Sho tried to tuck him in, he hit his hand away again mumbling that he could do it himself.
Ignoring him, Sho muttered a quick, “Stay here,” before rushing out of the room.
As he dashed about the house, gathering the things he needed to tend to the sick boy lying in his bed, he ticked the items off the list in his mind. He hadn’t been in the house long, and it being so large he found himself stumbling around for simple things like towels and buckets. Breathlessly, he rummaged through drawers and cupboards. Nino had been acting difficult but Sho didn’t falter in his actions. He had a duty after all; Nino was his friend, whether he saw Sho as his or not.
He returned quickly to Nino holding a tub of tepid water, a thermometer between his teeth and hand towels clutched to his sides. It was a pleasant surprise to see him cooperating so well after his return, the boy obediently taking the thermometer when given. Soaking the towels in the water, Sho wrung one out and gently wiped away the sweat on Nino’s face.
“You’re such a mother hen, Sakurai,” the younger boy mumbled through the thermometer in his mouth.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Sho said with a jesting bow of his head. He replaced the moist towel in his hand for another, folding and positioning it on the other boy’s forehead. Taking the thermometer from Nino he checked his temperature with a frown. 39.5°C.
Sho held out his hand, “Arm please.”
Nino stuck it out promptly. Sho sponged down his arm with a damp towel, and the other arm as well when the boy held it out without being asked. Nino’s eyes followed his actions with a wry smile.
“Don’t look so worried,” Nino said, cocking his head. “You’re so serious all the time. You’ll get wrinkles.”
“A fever can be a very serious thing, Nino,” Sho responded, tucking his arm back underneath the blanket. He shot the other boy a knowing look. “This is what happens when you don’t get enough sleep.”
“When are you going to stop bringing that up already,” Nino grumbled petulantly, pushing his face into the pillow.
“When it stops interfering with your health.”
Nino said nothing. Sho sighed and got to his feet.
“I don’t think the rain is gonna let up any time soon,” he said, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “My parents aren’t home so it should be no problem if you stay over. But you should probably call your mom or something. Maybe she can pick you up.”
“No need,” Nino replied softly, his voice muffled by the pillows.
“Huh?”
The boy’s head turned to face the ceiling, staring with distant eyes. “I said, no need. Your parents aren’t the only ones working you know, though they’re probably not going for the minimum wage,” he said, a derisive edge in his voice. “She’s working until morning tonight, probably won’t even notice I’m not home.”
Sho fell silent. He had never really fully considered Nino’s situation before. Finally, after fumbling for the right words, he quietly said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
Nino waved away his apology.
“You know I have one too.”
Sho raised an eyebrow. “One what?”
“Job. Part-time,” Nino said blankly. He sighed, “I guess it’s about time I told you about it anyways.”
“Is that why you’ve been tired all this time?”
He nodded giving an affirmative sound. “5-8am then 6-10pm on weekdays, more hours on the weekend,” he counted on his fingers. “Add on top of that school, club, our little study sessions and all our homework, there isn’t much time for sleep. Or games, for that matter, unfortunately. Ah, now that I think about it, I probably won’t be able to make my shift tomorrow.”
“Even at a time like this you’re worrying about that,” Sho said quietly with disbelief. “They shouldn’t be making you work all those hours.”
“It’s nothing like that, I asked for those hours myself. The Ohnos are good people.”
“Ohno? You’re working at the fishmonger?”
“You said it yourself, didn’t you? That I smelt of fish,” Nino chuckled slightly. “I don’t really get much time to shower either.”
Sho exhaled, shaking his head slightly. “Still, you shouldn’t be working all those hours. It’s one thing to work, it’s another to work to the point of exhaustion. It’s just wrong.”
“But it’s something I have to do,” Nino spoke adamantly.
“Why though?” the older boy questioned, brow wrinkled in confusion and concern.
“We’re different, you and me. You get all this,” he said, casting his eyes around Sho’s room, much too lavish for a teenage boy.
Nino paused for a moment, the words hovering on his lips. “I’m not so lucky,” he whispered.
There was silence between them after that. Sho stared down at his hands, feeling almost guilty for the privileges and ignorance he had enjoyed up until that point. Even though he was older, Nino was working ten times harder than he was and there was still nothing he could do for his situation, even after everything Nino had done for him. Sho cursed himself for being so helpless.
He heard Nino shift in his bed. He seemed to have finally fallen asleep, his eyes closed and lips slightly parted. A shiver rippled through his body despite the heat of his fever. With tender hands, Sho dabbed away the sweat on his forehead with the towel before placing a fresh one on his head. He got up to let him sleep in peace but when he was about to leave the room he heard Nino speak.
“Sho, thank you.”
His voice was soft and Sho could hardly hear him over the rain but he was certain of what he had heard. He grinned to himself as he closed the door behind him, a warm feeling swelling in his chest.
Even if he was half-asleep or perhaps delirious, Nino had definitely called him by his first name.
= = = = =
Somehow or other, Sho had made it.
And with a glance down at his watch, it seemed he had made it with time to spare. It was still dark, but in the light haze skirting the edges of the horizon he could see the beginnings of a new day. The air was thick with yesterday’s rain, the town blanketed in a sheen of droplets, the streets misted over and glowing in the approaching morning.
4:52 am.
It was much too early for anyone to do anything, let alone for a teenage boy to try to find his way through the dark winding streets of an unfamiliar town by himself. He didn’t know how Nino had managed it every day.
Though he was probably not as hopeless as Sho was.
“You’re not going anywhere, Sakurai!” Nino had shouted from his bed, a little louder than Sho cared for at four in the morning.
“You’re still sick, you still have work, and if I can’t get you to quit then I might as well do something helpful,” he had replied in a frank tone, throwing on a warm jacket before leaning down to look Nino in the eye, ruffling a hand through the boy’s hair. “Sakurai-sensei is prescribing you some well-earned bed rest, so be good okay?”
Nino had slowly grown more flustered with each passing moment, becoming red in the face.
“Referring to yourself in third person like that makes you sound like a prick,” he then bit back.
In response Sho had only waved with a slight smile before closing his bedroom door, leaving Nino alone to his own devices within the safety of his room. That was only if he listened to him of course, which was unlikely. But Sho had spotted no shadow trailing his steps, so, so far so good.
Somehow though, he kind of wished he was back with Nino, instead of shivering out on the streets all alone.
He looked up towards the shop’s sign where its name was printed in large blocks of English letters rather than Japanese.
OHNO’S FRESH FISH
He was definitely in the right place. But what had him confused was the painting next to the sign. It was a fish with a man’s body, or perhaps a man with a fish's head. But it wasn’t just any man, it was a man with little to show for decency except a pair of bright red briefs that clad his nether regions.
“…Charming,” Sho said quietly to himself.
He squinted through the shop window. The lights in the store were off and there was no one in sight, fish or human. He reached for the door handle experimentally, but it was still locked. Sho wondered how long he would have to keep waiting in the cold when a small voice spoke up from behind him.
“Excuse me? Do you need something?”
Sho jumped at the noise. He spun around (a little too quickly) to find himself face-to-face with Ohno Satoshi. Half in his pyjamas, he held a closed umbrella in one hand and a book in the other. He looked bored, gazing upon the other boy with slight disinterest. But Sho couldn’t tell whether that was how he actually felt or just the way his face was.
Sho bowed to his senior, and stuck out his hand.
“I’m Ninomiya Kazunari’s classmate, Sakurai Sho, nice to meet you.”
“Ah, you too,” Ohno stumbled forward to accept his greeting, awkwardly moving his book from one hand to the other. “Nino’s friend, huh?”
“I’m afraid he has taken ill but I am prepared to work in his place,” Sho explained, deepening his bow. “So please, continue to pay him for these hours.”
Ohno glanced about unsurely, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Ah. Is that so? I hope he gets well soon.”
With hesitant motions, the older boy pointed towards the store. “Um, you can come in if you like. And speak to my parents.”
Without waiting for Sho’s response, Ohno went ahead, moving around the side of the store down a narrow alleyway with quick, shuffling steps. Sho followed him towards a side door. The stink of rotting fish assailed him, the store most likely making use of the huddle of garbage bins further down the alley. They were at a distinct disadvantage being downwind. Sho’s hand made to cover his nose but thought better of it for it might have been deemed impolite. Ohno however, seemed unfazed. It didn’t really seem like he would have noticed, and if he did he probably wouldn’t have cared.
After a brief struggle with the keys, the door opened and Sho was bathed with sudden light. He stood there blinking for a moment, trying to adjust to its brightness. In the glare he could see two small figures.
“Ah, Satoshi, you’re here,” a man’s voice sounded, creaking with age.
“Oh, who’s this?” someone else said, a woman this time. “Where’s Kazu-chan?”
As the glare of the light faded, two people came into focus, presumably Ohno’s parents. They resembled their son, or perhaps it would be more appropriate to say that he looked just like his parents. Deep creases had settled on his father’s face, wizened by age, at the corners of his eyes and down the curve of his cheeks. His eyes drooped, sloping towards the sides of his face as if sleepy. But the sharp glint of his eye whispered at the vigour his old age hid.
Ohno’s mother was similar. Her smile shone and her skin glowed, radiating raw energy despite her years. A rosy blush coloured her round cheeks. She had a kind softness to her but at the same time Sho saw the strength behind her stooped figure and shuffling steps. She was a force to be reckoned with.
Sho corrected himself mentally in his head. While Ohno definitely looked like them, he didn’t seem to inherit the spirit his parents possessed.
“Nino is sick,” the older boy answered simply, before making his way across the room to hang up his jacket. Sho stared after him as he went, waiting to see whether he would explain beyond his clipped reply but no dice. A man of few words, I guess, Sho thought to himself.
“Good morning, I’m Sakurai Sho,” he said, bending at a right angle. He explained the situation to them like he had to the couple’s son just a moment ago and as he did, the older Ohnos’ brows knitted together in worry. “I hope you will allow me to work in his place for today,” Sho finished off, straightening up and praying they wouldn’t reject his offer.
But instead, they seemed to ignore him quite entirely.
Ohno’s mother turned to her husband, slapping his arm. “I told you not to let that boy work so much,” she scolded him. “I told you, didn’t I? Now look at what’s happened.”
“He begged me for those hours,” Ohno’s father threw up his hands in his defence. “I told the kid ‘no’ but he just kept asking for more, what was I supposed to do?”
She just shook her head, having none of it.
“Shop is opening soon, but believe me, we’re going to talk about this later,” she said forcibly, grabbing her apron from the table and tying it behind her waist before making her way from the room. “It’s our fault poor Kazu-chan got sick, we need to do something about it.”
Sho winced, wondering whether he had dome something he shouldn’t have.
The older Ohno left in the room scratched the back of his head with a sigh, a silence settling over the room. Sho wondered whether he should speak up when the man suddenly turned, looking the boy up and down. Sho shifted awkwardly under his scrutinising gaze.
“Sho-kun, was it?” he said, scratching the sparse white stubble on his chin.
“Yes, sir.”
The man gave a hearty chuckle at his punctual response. He motioned to his son leaning on the wall across the room. His presence was so soft that Sho had almost forgotten he was there.
“You can help Satoshi around today,” Ohno’s father said. “He’ll show you the ropes.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You seem like a good kid, Sho-kun,” he remarked with a thoughtful look. “Satoshi, there’s a new shipment in the back of the truck,” he continued, this time to his son. “Unload it with Sho-kun, would you?”
And with that, he shuffled out of the room leaving the two alone, holding a large cleaver Sho had never noticed before. He wondered whether the man had always been holding it, and if not at what point during their conversation had it come to be in his possession.
“Don’t worry, Sho-kun,” Ohno interrupted his thoughts with a light touch on the shoulder. “It’s only used on the fish.”
Sho could only stare at the older boy’s face incredulously. How had he been able to know what he was thinking? Magic? In response, Ohno only returned his bewilderment with a knowing smile.
“Follow me out back.”
>Part II