Mannequin Ch. 6: Curious Days and Fiery Nights
Title: Mannequin
Pairings: Matsumoto Jun x Sakurai Sho, Ohno Satoshi x Ninomiya Kazunari (and more as the story progresses)
Rating: NC-17
When Sakurai's father sends him to manage a small costume shop, he doesn't understand why he's being punished. He doesn't belong there-- he belongs in the heart of the city, leading his department and working his way towards being company president. But somehow he finds the queer little shop more intriguing than he anticipated, and he's especially drawn to one of the shop's mannequins. Which is pathetic, he knows, because the thing is an inanimate object...
Or is it?
Curious Days and Fiery Nights
The following morning didn’t start well. Aiba cut himself with the box-cutter after Sho accidentally stumbled into him while he was slicing open a package. Swearing there was something on the floor that tripped him, Sho hovered as Nino cleaned and bandaged Aiba’s palm.
Watching the small hands move quickly and efficiently over the slice down the fleshy part of Aiba’s hand, Sho pressed his lips together after the smaller man shushed him. Nino told Aiba, on the other hand, that he could make all the noise he wanted because he was the one who had gotten hurt. Aiba didn’t whine or cry, though, instead appearing more interested in watching the peroxide sizzle and Nino apply butterfly bandages to keep the cut together. It wasn’t deep enough that he needed to go to the doctor, but it wasn’t necessarily shallow either. But they’d run it under the faucet, and Sho thought Nino seemed competent enough.
“You think it’ll leave a scar?” Aiba asked, sounding more hopeful than worried.
“Not if you keep it clean and take care of it like I tell you to,” Nino answered.
Nino was wrapping gauze around the injured hand when a familiar jingle had Sho’s head turning to the front of the store. Seeing that it was just a young man in a trendy hoodie and baggy short-pants, Sho figured he’d let the guy browse for a bit. In his experience (and generally, in his own preference), young people liked time to shop and would approach an attendant if they wanted assistance. Sho just moved from behind the counter to greet the man and let him know where he was if he wanted help.
But as he did, Sho noticed the man was walking briskly, with purpose, through the store. He wasn’t even looking at the costumes, and when he pushed his hood from his head, the guy had a head full of pinkish hair that faded to an ashy color. He was striking, even though his cheeks were sweetly round.
Just as he was about to walk right past him, Sho stepped in front of him. “Can I help you?”
The young man looked up, surprised to be stopped.
“No,” he replied, simply.
Then he grinned at Sho, revealing endearing dimples, and continued on his way. As he walked right past the counter, Aiba gave him a little wave that the young guy returned.
“He’s back here, right?” the stranger asked, pointing.
“Yep,” Aiba responded as Sho and Nino watched the exchange, confused.
“Got a mannequin with him?”
“Yeah. Both, I think.”
“Thanks,” the guy said before disappearing into the back room.
Sho turned to Aiba, “You could have told me you knew him.”
“I forgot you didn’t know him,” Aiba shrugged, “He comes every month. It feels like you’ve been here longer.”
“You too, Nino-kun,” Aiba added when Nino opened his mouth to speak.
“Well, who is he?” Nino asked, determined to have opened his mouth for a reason. Aiba read him far too easily, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.
“Massu-kun,” Aiba supplied. Still fascinated by his bandaged hand, Aiba didn’t look up as he ran a careful finger over the taped gauze and continued, “He’s a friend of the owner. Or maybe he’s in the business. I’m not sure. They have some sort of secret meeting every month.”
“The owner meets with him every month? That guy?” Nino asked, skeptical.
“Every month,” Aiba replied, now looking at the blood drying on his t-shirt where he’d swiped his palm earlier.
“And you don’t know why?” Nino pressed.
“Nope.”
“You’re not curious?” Sho asked, because he was growing curious. The guy had asked if the mannequins were there. Did he know about them? Is that why he was here? Because of Jun?
“You two are like little old ladies,” Aiba chuckled, “Just ask the owner later, if Massu bothers you. I like him.”
“You like everyone, Aiba-kun,” Nino sighed, and Aiba laughed again. He’d rather learn dislike, or worse, ambivalence, for a person instead of starting out that way. But Nino was different from him when it came to people, and Aiba accepted that. He liked Nino, too.
In the back room, Masuda “Massu” Takahisa found the owner at a sewing machine. He looked up to see Massu approaching, and wordlessly moved toward a sitting area he’d created that was more cushions-on-the-floor than actual seating.
“What’s the good news?” the owner asked congenially, but he was a little concerned. He hadn’t expected to see Massu before the week with his lover and the mannequins’ One Day. Was something wrong? They weren’t from the same sect, but he and Massu were both Guardians. He was charged with the protection of those under his lover’s spell, and Massu protected the Spellbinder-- and that spellbinding yumemi, who Masuda guarded, was rather important to his own charges. Because if Tegoshi wasn’t safe, none of them were-- and that included his lover, in his weakened state.
Speaking of Tegoshi, the owner cleared his throat to ask about him, too “How’s your dream-walking, monster trapperkeeper doing?”
“Trapperkeeper,” Massu repeated, his smile small, before adding, “He’s not walking through as many dreams these days… Or, at least, he’s not walking through mine.”
“Well he hasn’t been with me. Tegoshi knows better than that.”
“He’s getting weaker,” Masuda sighed.
The pink-haired guardian flopped on a cushion, grabbing a pillow. The way he sat had his shirts caught up in the back, and the owner caught a glimpse of well-defined muscle moving beneath the skin as Massu adjusted. The temple-dwelling guardian trained diligently, maintaining a strict balance between physical, mental, and magical strength. The owner didn’t train, he had confidence in his own abilities as they were, but at the same time, he and Massu were guarding very different things. There was a reason Masuda could move small boulders while the owner was rather good at refinishing wooden limbs.
The owner’s tension rose, “How badly is it draining his power? The kekkai is still strong, isn’t it?”
“Tegoshi doesn’t wake in this world at all anymore,” Massu didn’t look up, as if the thought pained him, “He still looks the same, like he’s just sleeping, but his hair… it’s almost white.”
The owner’s eyes sharpened in the shadows. This wasn’t sounding good. “Does he have a message for me?” the owner asked briskly, taking the authoritative tone of a Guardian, which he so rarely used.
“He does,” Masuda straightened, matching the serious tone.
The owner’s voice lost a bit of its edge when he thought of his lover and added, “Does he?”
“Yasuda?” Massu asked, although the question was unnecessary, “Yasuda Shota, Lifebinder, also leaves a message for you, Guardian.”
“Don’t call me that,” the owner sighed, nervous yet pleased to know he’d be receiving word from Yasu, “Subaru is fine.”
Aiba had left to get a fresh tee shirt from the restaurant after Sho told him there was no way he could work, even in the horror section, with blood on his shirt, when the door jingled, announcing the arrival of a rather imposing-looking woman.
Nino greeted her immediately, but when she sniffed down her nose at him, her regal chin held high in the air, Sho realized it was time to turn on his charm that can only come from a background in high society. Nino, who was regularly able to charm the pants off of anyone, was insulted and turned away to sulk with in the contemporary costume section with a particular mannequin.
Sho behaved like a snobbish, overly-competent manager, and was met with mild acceptance from the woman as she lowered her gaze to meet his. “I am in need of an ensemble for the festival, and I was told this shop offers unique costumes that will meet my standards… although that remains to be seen.”
“Allow me to pull some garments for you,” Sho said, smiling and gesturing to a seating area by the dressing rooms.
“Bring them to me. I’m going to look around; see what I can find for myself.”
“Right away,” Sho nodded and turned away, walking past Nino to hear the younger man muttering unflattering remarks about the haughty woman to Captain, who was agreeing with him even though Nino couldn’t hear it. Sho found the period pieces and retrieved a few he thought his great-aunt might wear. He didn’t like this woman, didn’t like the way she’d treated Nino or sized him up-- and he especially got an off-putting feeling from the way the woman stared at Jun when she found him.
Sho had returned with her costumes to find her engrossed with Jun, fingering his costume and then his hair and his face…. and Sho had quickly cleared his throat and steered her away. He couldn’t understand why, but he really hadn’t liked that woman being so close to Jun.
Both he and Nino were glad to see her leave.
It was around 3 in the afternoon when Aiba returned from the lunch rush, having been wrangled into staying at the restaurant, and ominous, black clouds were rolling in from the east. Sho was gathering up fantasy accessories; wands, sparkling amulets, etc., so he could take his work over to where Jun was standing, when the owner came out with Sho’s tablet in his hand.
The fantasy section wasn’t far from the counter, and he probably could have stayed there and carried a conversation with the mannequin just fine, but he’d just finished going over spending costs with Ninomiya, and was a little wary of how sharp the leaner man was. If he slipped and accidentally spoke to Jun outloud, he didn’t know what Nino would think of him-- or report back to his father.
So Sho had just settled down next to Jun, fingers fiddling with a strap at the mannequin’s ankle. He was irritated by Jun’s continued silence toward him, and was trying to think of a way to convince the mannequin that he didn’t care for his ex (although that didn’t seem to be the answer Jun wanted either), when the owner beckoned him back over to join them. Sho got up, begrudgingly because he’d just sat down and had wanted to just stick by Jun for a while, planning to eventually get back on his good side.
"Okay, I’m back," he told the owner as he rested on his elbows on the counter before raising an eyebrow at the owner, "And what are you doing with my iPad?"
"I’m using it. Does that bother you? I’ll ask next time," the owner returned casually, "See, I created a schedule and list of objectives for the rest of the month."
"Why-" Sho started, but the owner wasn’t finished.
"Since Ninomiya here has joined us full time, I thought now might be a good time to take my trip,” Subaru, the owner, started. After Massu’s shared the messages, Subaru discussed it with the other Guardian and it was decided that it was time he paid Tegoshi a visit at the temple-- at least until Yasu joined him. The message from Tegoshi was shared via a memory Masuda held from a brief visit Tegoshi had made to his dreams-- but the message had been vague, dark, and almost like a grimace. A twist of Tegoshi’s shoulder, and Subaru had caught a glimpse of the monster Tegoshi’s kekkai was imprisoning.
And it wasn’t good.
“Obviously, Sakurai, you will be in charge. I expect you’ll be able to handle everything. After all, what is a small costume shop in comparison to an entire department? Although… I do expect you to know all of your co-workers’ names," Subaru continued, teasing lightly.
"I won’t forget them," Sho retorted, and Aiba chuckled while Nino smiled a small smile that Sho couldn’t glare at, even if he wanted to. This Nino was going to be trouble, Sho could just tell. Turning back to the owner, he added, "So when are you leaving?"
“Soon. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe tonight. Maybe now.”
“Right now?” Nino asked as Sho listened to a chorus of complaints burst from the fantasy section and a question or two from the contemporary section. Jun’s voice was clearer, as he was closer. Captain was towards the front of the store, and impossible for Sho to understand… but Sho didn’t think he was happy.
“Well, I’ll head home to pack first. If you need me, just give me a call… Are you going to need me?” Subaru directed the question to Sho, who shook his head quickly.
“We will be fine,” Sho responded, although he couldn’t help but add, telepathically, “But you’re upsetting Jun.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re the one who’s been upsetting him,” Subaru responded before saying out loud, “Alright! I’m off! Try not to call me!”
Less than an hour after the owner left, Sho noticed the sky outside was growing darker and the wind was picking up. He wondered just how bad this storm was going to be, and he also wondered if a different type of storm was brewing within the store.
For the past 45 minutes, Aiba had been going on about the various dreams he had. He dreamed of cooking on variety shows. He dreamed of working with exotic animals. He dreamed of owning a monkey. He dreamed of having a spa. He dreamed of playing the saxophone for a stadium full of people.
This sort of wishful thinking didn’t seem to really bother Nino, except that Nino wasn’t exactly supportive. Which Sho wouldn’t have noticed if Jun hadn’t wondered what was bugging the smaller man. Jun thought that Nino looked about ready to cave in on himself. Somehow, though, Sho had cared more about the fact that Jun was talking to him, albeit a little, than Nino’s sour mood.
But then Aiba started talking about a future filled with people he loved. People who made him smile-- people he adored. And Aiba had dreams of the life he’d like to lead all around Japan with these loved ones.
And Nino snapped.
“Dreams are something you’ll lose one day,” Nino spat, silencing Aiba, and he almost regretted saying it when he saw the way the excitement in the other man’s eyes flickered and faltered. He didn’t take the words back though. Instead, his shoulders just slumped a little more and the possibility of the young man caving in on himself seemed even more probable. Sakurai didn’t like it.
“Don’t tell him that, Nino,” Sho scolded, “If you plan accordingly and work hard enough, you can achieve anything. You can make your dreams come true.”
“No you can’t. That’s bullshit,” Nino retorted, “No amount of hard work is going to make Aiba the king of fucking England.”
“No...,” Sho ceded, then added thoughtfully, “But the dream isn’t to have the title, right? It’s to have what the title represents-- and that could be achieved. I shudder to think how, and the name Hitler comes to mind, but you get my point.”
“Whatever,” Nino muttered, fingers fumbling over scraps of fabric on the counter, “I get your point, now get mine: Some dreams are more specific. Some dreams are one of a kind and can only be fulfilled once... And some dreams can be lost before you’ve reached them. Sometimes, sometimes your dreams can be living things, and sometimes those things--those things that you love more than you’ve ever loved anything-- can die. And hard work isn’t going to bring them back... Now where the fuck are Ohno’s hands!?”
Nino’s voice rose, nearly breaking, as he yelled the last part. Both Sho and Aiba were taken aback, and Aiba couldn’t stop his own eyes from prickling when he saw that Nino’s were glistening angrily.
“Who’s Ohno?” Aiba whispered just as Sho asked, “You named the mannequin?”
Nino’s cheeks flushed. He hadn’t meant to say the name out loud; didn’t mean to ever let anyone else know that the mannequin meant anything to him... or really, that it looked like someone who had meant something to him. Nino inwardly cursed and chose not to answer either of them as he pushed past them to get to the accessories display where, lo and behold, the tawny mannequin’s hands were posed with chainlink, fingerless gloves.
“Get out of there,” Nino muttered to the hands as he unlocked the case, his own fingers shaking and making the key miss the mark twice before he got it in, twisted, and could push the glass panel aside to snatch the hands out.
Nino walked briskly across the store to where the handless mannequin was dressed in a prison costume with the stumps of his arms tucked behind him to make it seem like his wrists were bound. Neither Sho nor Aiba had noticed that the owner had taken the mannequin’s hands off; it wasn’t especially visible from the counter or where they’d been hanging new costumes... but Nino had obviously noticed.
Aiba and Sho both jumped when Nino swore again, and then Aiba was hopping over the counter to rush over and see what had happened.
“We have to watch people who come in here with kids,” Nino said, anger edging his words.
“Why? Did someone spill something? Is something ripped? Is it ruined?” Sakurai asked quickly, always mindful of a lost sale.
“No, but that kid in here earlier must have spilled something on Oh-- on this mannequin. His face is fucking wet.”
And sure enough, there were clear droplets leaving wet tracks down the mannequin’s cheeks.
“What a sick joke,” muttered Sho when he saw it, “To make it look like he’s crying. Like he’s being executed or something.”
“Shut up,” Nino whispered.
“How do you think the kid did that?” Aiba asked quietly, “You don’t think he spit on him, do you?”
“Oh God, I’m getting a washcloth,” Nino yelped and ran off to the back room. Sho went back to the front, shaking his head, and Aiba used his sleeve to wipe the mannequin’s face before following.
"Captain... Captain! You cried! I saw it!" Jun whispered across their connection, his voice echoing in awe and confusion.
"Real Tears! At least six of them!" Jun continued, "How did you do that?"
He waited a moment for Captain to respond, but there was nothing but silence.
"Captain? Captain! Answer me!" Jun pleaded, suddenly a little afraid. For Captain to be able to cry real tears, when it wasn’t his One Day, was amazing. It was impossible. It wasn’t like anything that had ever happened to either of them before. Jun couldn’t ignore it.
It wasn’t often he pushed across their connection. It was usually Captain that would enter his mind, gentle and warm, so they wouldn’t feel alone. So they could share the thought of an embrace and let their thoughts and memories intertwine...
But this time, Jun was scrambling back out of Captain’s head as quickly as he entered it. Perhaps faster even. When he’d gotten into Captain’s head. When he’d crossed the barrier...
Captain was screaming.
And in that half-second, Jun felt more pain than he’d ever known.
Later that night, Captain had wandered off almost as soon as the doors locked, just as the shutters were being closed, and the taller mannequin couldn’t help but wonder if Captain was taking unnecessary risks... If he was hurting again. Although this time, Jun was too afraid to ask.
Instead, he walked cautiously, trying to keep his joints from creaking too loudly, around the store. It was pouring down rain outside, and every once in awhile, he could hear the thunder in the distance. Sho had gone across the street with Aiba and a moody Nino, so the mannequins were alone... Not being able to immediately see Captain was disconcerting. It reminded Jun too much of the lonely days before Captain, when it had just been him and the owner, and the owner had had to go home or away somewhere. Panic gripped his chest as he suddenly wondered if Captain had left him. If Captain had tried to go outside.
He’d be destroyed! Jun’s echo of a heart was beating hard. There was no way a walking wooden person wouldn’t frighten people, and people generally kill what scares them. Jun couldn’t survive losing his friend.
"Captain?!"
Or, what had Nino called him?
"Ohno?!"
"I’m over here, Jun-kun," Captain--no-- Ohno’s quiet voice sounded tired, but Jun was so relieved to hear it. Following the connection, Jun found him on the floor surrounded by clothes, strewn paper, and some pencils. It looked like he was trying to write or draw again, although Jun was sure Ohno had given up on both of those. Their fingers were fused. There was no way they could grip a pencil. Ohno knew this.
"Are you okay?" Jun asked, already believing his friend wasn’t.
Ohno didn’t reply at first, but then Jun felt Ohno’s warmth probing softly and he welcomed him into his head. There was a moment when Jun just tried to think of things to comfort Ohno. Thoughts of hugs, a shoulder to lean on, and fingers intertwined... but then Ohno replayed the memory that was hurting him.
It was from before, when Nino had brought Ohno’s hands back to him. Jun had only been able to see the back of Nino then, but even so, he’d noticed that Nino had pressed himself awfully close to the other mannequin. What Jun hadn’t been able to see or hear was what Ohno was showing him now.
Nino’s body was pressed right up against Ohno’s front, and even through hard exterior of the wooden body, he could feel the thin man’s warmth. He could feel his heartbeat.... And he could feel it, although barely, when the slight man’s lips pressed against Ohno’s painted ones.
“I have one wish...I don't wish on a star, but pray softly to you,” Nino whispered, lips still touching Ohno’s, “Because that is a miracle that only you can make happen.”
And then Nino was pulling back, touching his face. Nino’s brows furrowed in confusion. There was the wetness. Jun felt it now too, running down Ohno’s cheeks in the memory. Tears. Teardrops.
And so much pain.
Ohno withdrew himself, abruptly, leaving Jun cold and sad in his own hollow shell of a wooden body. Crying on the inside, he spoke brokenly to Ohno, "I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry..."
Ohno echoed that he was sorry too, but Jun’s mind was still reeling from the pain they’d shared.
The storm peaked late, and Sho woke with a jolt to the sound of heavy rain pounding the windowpanes. The wind was strong, forcing the rain to hit horizontally against the building. It was quickly followed by rolling thunder that practically shook the apartment. Looking at the clock, Sho groaned at the hour. He didn’t want to be awake at 2 when he’d have to get up in a few hours for work. Luckily for him, he could sleep through almost anything. Sho just smooshed his pillow around his ears and worked his way back to sleep.
Just as he was drifting off, he remembered that Nino was downstairs. When they'd come back from dinner, the wind was really whipping hard. The forecast called for heavy rain, and it was a long walk and train ride for Nino to return to his apartment in the city. So, despite Captain/Ohno and Jun losing a night of freedom, Nino was invited to stay over. Now, Sho thought, if worst came to worst, he could pull rank and get him to open the shop… but he really didn’t anticipate much difficulty getting back to sleep.
Sho didn’t remember when exactly he did fall asleep again, but suddenly he was jerked away by the shrill beeping of the fire alarm. Sho blinked and practically tumbled out of bed, feet caught in the sheets, as he was horrified to realize he could also smell smoke. Only stopping to pull on pajama bottoms, Sho used his discarded tee shirt to turn the knob on the door. It wasn’t hot yet, but there was definitely dark smoke climbing up the ceiling of the stairwell.
And Sho would be lying if he said there wasn’t only one person on his mind.
Jumping down the last five or six steps, he landed hard on his heels and almost fell as he rounded the corner and raced toward the front of the store, where the smoke was thick and dark. The light from his phone wasn’t going to cut it, and he stopped to grab the large flashlight from the wall where it hung with the fire extinguisher. When he did run into storefront, he hunched over and swept the light back and forth as he moved.
Sho opened his mouth to call out for Jun, but before he could, a voice called out to him.
“Sho?! Sho, grab the extinguisher and get over here!” Nino yelled, sounding more authoritative than afraid.
“I got it!” She screamed back, and then choked on smoke from taking too deep a breath. He wiped where his eyes watered and ran to where Nino’s voice sounded like it came from, all the while calling out to Jun in his mind: Where are you? Where are you? Where are you?
But neither he nor Captain answered.
Within seconds, Sho reached Nino and the fire. It was coming from the trademarked character section, against the wall they shared with the electronics place, and Sho lifted an arm to shield his eyes as he scanned the scene. It wasn’t good. The fire was building quickly. He wanted to spray the wall first, but there was a long rack that had caught on fire between him and his goal, and there was something else there… Something between the burning clothes rack and the wall. He had to squint to see what it was, because the heat radiating from the flames made his vision blurry, but he recognized it. No, them. And Sho’s heart stopped.