[fic] Breathing Room
Title: Breathing Room
Author/Artist: fencer_x
Permalink: Archived @ Chicklit here
Warnings/Rating: PG
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Tsujimoto Yuuki/Takasaki Shouta (5th cast Golden Pair)
Notes: Series of disjointed drabbles taking them from their first meeting to...well, you'll see :D Time lines are kinda out of whack, but hopefully it won't be too jarring :P (read: it won't be jarring at all unless you're a detail whore like myself)
In the relatively short time he'd known Shouta (a year now? God, had it been that long? Sometimes each play run seemed to blend into the next until suddenly they'd never spent more than a week apart and it was just life as usual to spend all their waking hours around each other, the other Seigaku members, the staff and supporting cast), he'd come to realize that, for a guy who had only just made his acting debut playing a 15-year-old tennis player, he took his craft quite seriously. And when Ueshima-sensei told them to be each other's shadows, Shouta had leapt to the task quite literally.
Not one week after they'd been contacted regarding their role assignments for the Imperial Match (Tsujimoto had been thrilled that "Takasaki-kun" had been cast, since he was possibly the only person at the audition Tsujimoto found he got along with better than Baba-kun) they'd found themselves sitting at long tables situated in a horseshoe shape, standing one by one and politely introducing themselves to the other actors in the room who, over the next month or two, would become their teammates, their rivals, their friends, their partners. Like some metaphysical game of Twister, Shouta had soundly placed appendages in all four corners when he'd approached Tsujimoto during the lunch break they'd taken between reading for the first and second acts.
"I like your hat," Shouta had commented, idly wandering up behind Tsujimoto while he rifled through his bag looking for his wallet, nearly scaring the pants off of him when he announced his presence by tugging on the brim. "Really cool."
Hand reflexively reaching up to readjust it, he'd smiled out of habit. "Oh. Thanks. It was a present from an actor friend of mine." It was a lie, he'd bought it himself; a shameful extravagance as reward for landing the only role he'd ever need likely for the rest of his 20s. Once you were in TeniMyu, you were someone in the small theatre world.
Shouta smiled widely, the corners of his lips curling strangely, like the Grinch. It was cute, he had to admit, and somehow he knew that this guy was going to be one of the ones the girls giggled over at events, whose photosets they would paw through and coo, "So cute~". Tsujimoto knew he didn't have that adorable air to him--he was just...too normal. Girls had never giggled over him or cooed at him, and he didn't think donning what amounted to a swim-cap with a few pieces of hair sticking up from it was going to accomplish that any time soon. He offered his silent sympathies to Oishi Shuuichiroh on that count; what a trooper!
"Tsuji-kun must be really popular then; how long have you been acting?" By now, Shouta had pulled up one of the foldable chairs scattered about the room and slid into it backwards, cradling his head on his folded arms as he watched Tsujimoto (he felt like a bug under glass with the way Shouta was focusing on him, so interested in his wordly experiences in acting) continue pawing through his bag--where was that damn wallet?
"A while," he answered absently--there it was, in the side pocket he'd zipped up leaving his apartment that morning--and stuffed the wallet into his back jeans pocket. He jerked a thumb at nowhere in particular. "I'm going to run and get some lunch at the 7-11 by the station--" I'll be right back, he'd meant to add.
But Shouta interrupted him, "Mind if I come, too? I'm famished, just been waiting for someone else to go so I didn't have to go alone."
"...People have been going in and out for the past fifteen minutes." This was true; it was the nearest conbini to their rehearsal hall, and the only one that served the karaage he really liked. "Baba-kun even asked if anyone needed anything--"
"I...I don't know anyone else. It would've been weird just following someone around when you don't even know their name, right?"
"Yeah..." he agreed distantly, glancing around the room. Shouta was a weird guy; not creepy-weird, but not entirely not creepy-weird either. They'd hit it off grandly when they'd just been two nervous wannabe actors hoping to land the roles of their lives, but here now...now something had changed, and they had to get along, had to be perfect together, because as unfamiliar as Tsujimoto was with the Tennis no Oujisama series as a whole, he definitely knew who his character was, who Shouta's character was, and who those characters were together. They had to be closer than close, had to be two halves of a whole, had to...had to not be weirded out by one another just because they didn't want to go to the conbini alone. He pursed his lips and nodded. "Really weird, right? Let's get outta here before someone else tries to tag along and ruin our pair."
Shouta's lips were doing that weird curly thing again. Tsujimoto idly thought that he kind of wanted to see just how far in on itself he could make them curl. "Definitely!" He pushed the chair forward and was standing up before Tsujimoto could even settle his bag on his shoulder.
As they wandered out the door, side by side and ostensibly off to a positive start as the newest Golden Pair, Tsujimoto found himself blurting out superiorly, "You know, my last big role was with the first TeniMyu Oishi."
Ueshima-sensei had told them to get close. To be close. "Shouta, I don't--" Tsujimoto whirled on his partner, "Seriously--I don't think even Kikumaru follows Oishi around this much."
"Kikumaru and Oishi have been friends and partners for years. You and I only met for the first time two weeks ago."
He had a point.
"Still--" He held up his hands, miming the distance he'd prefer between them. "I don't think he follows Oishi into the bathroom. I'm pretty sure it's a one-man job there."
Shouta frowned, but stayed in place when Tsujimoto backed away. He half wondered if Shouta was mentally going through every scene with their characters in his mind just to make sure there wasn't some scene wherein Kikumaru followed Oishi into the toilet. "Five minutes, geez," he laughed, waving his friend off. "I'm not going to fall in." Rounding the corner and jogging towards the men's room at the end of the hall, he didn't doubt that if he took one second longer, Shouta would be knocking on the door wondering if he had fallen in.
As it was, Tsujimoto pulled open the door in less than half that time and still found Shouta relaxing against the wall in the hallway, glancing up expectantly at the sound of the knob turning. "We have a lot of catching up to do, is all," he explained.
"We'll be fine, Shouta," he sighed, stepping down onto the linoleum flooring and looping one arm around Shouta's, jerking him forward.
"We could be more than fine, though."
"We're only human."
"No, we're the Golden Pair, it's different."
Somehow this was supposed to make sense. Tsujimoto didn't quite know how this was to happen, yet, but trusted Shouta knew what he was talking about. "You're really weird, you know?"
Shouta pulled his arm in close to his body, yanking Tsujimoto over until their hips brushed together on every other step. "No, you're just not weird enough yet."
The first time he woke up next to Shouta (there was a first time--this probably should've weirded him out more than it did. But it didn't) it hadn't, amazingly enough, been the morning following one of their many (many) yakiniku-and-beer parties with Baba-kun. It'd been deep in the bowels of the Seinenkan, in that blessed hour or so of free time between the high of just getting off stage the high just before going on stage, between the matinee and soiree shows.
Tsujimoto had deliberately sought out the most remote, quietest place in the backstage area (a feat in and of itself) that wasn't overrun by Seigaku or Hyoutei or Higa or makeup artists or hairdressers or Ueshima-sensei himself. Some kept themselves warmed up by going through choreography in the wings or batting around a shuttlecock on the curtained stage, and others like himself just wanted a place to catch a few winks before starting his mental and physical preparations for the evening show.
Once off the stage, he'd darted back to his makeup station and carefully begun his motions to remove the wig, wiping away two hours' worth of sweat and heavy makeup and feeling like a new man underneath. Pulling on a tattered old shirt so he didn't wrinkle his costume, he'd dodged makeup artists and his fellow members, navigating the maze of halls with the ease that came of spending a few days here now, before finally arriving at his destination, a cramped practice hall that was currently being used to store sound equipment and lighting replacements.
He'd wadded up his sweatsuit jacket underneath his head and made sure the lights were turned off, shutting the door soundlessly behind him and feeling his way to the center of the room in the dark. No one would disturb him, of this he was sure, and within moments--barely ten minutes after stepping off the stage and waving goodbye to the fans--he was out like a light.
Some time later, he awoke feeling somehow even more tired, jarred back to the waking world by the frentic buzzing and beeping of his cellphone alarm. He reached out a hand into the darkness, feeling around desperately for his phone that he was afraid he'd sent sliding to the other side of the pitch-black room in his surprise at being awoken.
"Nngh, Tsuji-kun...turn off your cellphone..."
Tsujimoto scrambled upright, feeling in the darkness and hand falling across the head of his doubles partner, who apparently had been sleeping back-to-back with him before his cellphone alarm had gone off. "Sh--Shouta?"
There was the sound of a yawn, and then he found himself with one of Shouta's feet in his lap. "What time is it?"
Casting a glance around him (for all the good it would do), Tsujimoto frowned in the darkness. "An hour after I went to sleep I guess..." The phone had ceased its buzzing, and this meant he really had no hope of finding it in the dark now. He pushed himself up, letting Shouta's foot drop roughly to the floor, and felt around blindly for the doorknob, beside which he knew was the light switch. Fingers finding purchase after a few moments' searching, he flicked the switch on, blinking rapidly at the swift change from dark the light.
On the floor, Shouta winced and blocked the light with a hand. "You pick the hardest places to find to sleep."
"Mostly cause I wanted some privacy," he grinned wryly, knowing Shouta would never take the hint.
Shouta rubbed his eyes and stretched broadly, cracking his back even. "Well--" He shook himself to brush off the fatigue, "--you don't get privacy here, not even during breaks."
"If you were a really good partner, you'd have stood guard outside and made sure I wasn't disturbed."
"I stood guard inside and made sure you weren't disturbed. Isn't that better?"
"I...guess?" he laughed, quite sure he'd never understand Shouta's logic, but happy for the distraction as he picked his cellphone off the floor, rolling it up inside his jacket. He took shook his head to ward off the fatigue threatening to overtake him again. "We should probably get back and start getting ready for the evening shows." He held out a hand, helping yank Shouta upright.
"Yeah." Shouta lifted his arms to stretch, leaning from one side, then the other. When Tsujimto reached for the doorknob, he called back, "Tsuji-kun?"
He turned, "Hm?"
"...I'll wait outside next time."
Tsujimoto paused, regarding his partner, who now busied himself gathering his own makeshift pillow and personal items. "How exactly does that help make us closer?"
Shouta's lips curled in on themselves three times.
They were popular.
This was something new, something unexpected. And he liked it.
Who cared that it came from people (girls, he reminded himself) who only saw them as their characters, who just read volumes into every shoulder squeeze and high five Ueshima-sensei told them to execute, who just saw them as Oishi and Eiji and couldn't care less about their very real friendship (very weird friendship)? Fans were fans, fans brought them money, fans paid to see their shows, paid to keep them employed.
And made them really popular.
"Tsuji-kun's such a ham," Shouta complained good-naturedly after their event, grabbing a slice of perfectly-cooked kalbi right from under Tsujimoto's tongs, smiling even more smugly when his partner glared daggers at him. There was one rule that all of Tsujimoto's friends new and followed: You did not fuck with Tsujimoto Yuuki's cooked meat. True, he was particularly fond of his takoyaki (honestly, what Kansai boy wasn't?), but yakiniku was something he felt very much in tune with his character on. "Oh get over it, we're having a takoyaki party tomorrow. Besides, this is punishment for being annoying on stage."
Tsujimoto shoved his chopsticks into his mouth, ranting around a mouthful of rice, "They paid to see us flirt--I was just doing my job." He took a swig of water, swallowing hard, "If anyone should have their kalbi stolen from under their tongs it's you for being so prissy up there. Na, Baba-chan?"
Baba eyed them both in turn, shaking his head and digging into his rice bowl. "You're both insane, you know?"
"Oi--"
"Toshi can be your MC next time."
"But we like Baba-chan," Tsujimoto wheedled, settling another few slices of meat onto the hot griddle and shooting Shouta a look that dared him to try stealing it this time. "You had fun, admit it."
Baba nodded, reaching for the beer he'd treated himself to after the harrowing experience of keeping up with his costars. "Not more than you two, though."
"We've just got more experience," Shouta smiled, glancing over at Tsujimoto.
"One year best friend experience."
"We'd invite you to join us, but..."
"It's the Golden Pair."
Baba followed them with his eyes as their conversation jumped back and forth, rolling along quite contentedly without him. When they finished, he took a swig of his beer, raising an eyebrow. "That was fucking creepy."
'I'm getting a haircut tomorrow--come with me?'
When had they started taking Ueshima-sensei's advice beyond the rehearsal hall doors? Christmas? No, he definitely remembered a few trips to Akihabara together (sometimes with Baba-chan) and there'd been that one time Shouta had fallen asleep on his couch after coming over to watch old Myus together (they should really do that again...!), so...well, what did it really matter?
Tsujimoto's phone buzzed in his pocket insistently, alerting him to a received text. 'You need moral support to get your split ends trimmed?' Fighting back a grin at Shouta's cheeky response, he quickly texted back instructions to meet at Shinjuku station's southern exit at 1 and possibly be rewarded with a treat at Baskin Robbins afterwards. Five minutes later, another response came:
'Can I get mine cut, too? Synchro practice!'
"Toshi wasn't too happy you shoved him on stage you know." He glanced over at his countermate out of the corner of his eye as he gingerly peeled away the wig, breathing still heavy from getting off stage barely a few minutes earlier. "If you're gonna keep doing that, you should probably warn him so he can flinch next time."
"Oi, Toshi~" Shouta called out immediately, leaning back and holding his wig to his head so it didn't fall off. From the other side of the room came an annoyed, "What?" to which Shouta replied. "Scoot your ass over next time!"
"Stay in your own spot!" was the retort, and someone somewhere in the room let out a little whoop of encouragement. Tsujimoto could only regard their fellow members with mild amusement.
"Well, I warned him," was Shouta's long-suffering reply, and he turned his focus back to his wig, carefully setting the clips in the bangs to keep the curl.
"Why did you do that, anyways?"
There was a beat of silence while Shouta lifted the wig from his head, settling it gingerly on the mannekin head before his, being sure every hair was exactly perfect before he continued his down-dressing routine. "Do what?"
"Come over."
A shrug. "Wanted to. We're always together, only seemed right we should be doing curtain calls together."
"You messed up the order, though."
"You think Ueshima-sensei'll get mad?" Tsujimoto turned the idea over in his mind, deciding that actually, it was probably something the crazy old man had been expecting all along. He glanced over, locking eyes with Shouta, whose lips curled into a smile. "Didn't think so."
"Still, you can't just go changing the order up because you feel like it."
"It's not just cause I feel like it, you know."
"No?"
"It's a Golden Pair thing."
"Ah." One of those things. Tsujimoto was starting to hear that excuse from Shouta a lot lately. It's a Golden Pair thing. He'd hear that, and then his mind would flash to just how far did Shouta intend to take this Golden Pair "thing"?
"You don't like it."
"I don't mind. Especially not if Ueshima-sensei's fine with it."
"But you don't like it." He'd settled an elbow on his station, twisting his upper body so that he was facing Tsujimoto more directly. They weren't alone--they didn't even have the semblance of privacy provided by a corner. He hoped Shouta knew this. "Or else you wouldn't bring it up."
Tsujimoto hid his discomfort behind a smile. "We can talk about it later."
The way Shouta's lips pursed, thin and flat and not curling up at all, told him this had not been the answer he'd been looking for.
"Later" was just that--much much later, until it almost wasn't even the same day. But tomorrow (today) there were no shows, no need to be at a rehearsal hall at such and such time, no need to be at the theater before whenever, no interviews or events or anything but time between one show and the next to fill however Tsujimoto pleased.
And he pleased to fill it with Shouta. For a little while, at least.
Ebo-kun, Ikkou, Toshi, and Akki had all headed out for dinner together, entreating any parties "looking for a good time" to join them. Having been first-hand witness to Toshi's idea of "a good time" before, everyone else politely declined. Ryuuki and Hashimoto had a meeting at the Watanabe offices, and Baba-chan's manager had dropped by to pick him up for a short radio spot he was doing to promote the shows. Their being the only two left without anywhere to go couldn't have been planned better.
It wasn't the first time Tsujimoto had invited Shouta over. Hell, there'd been one stretch a few weeks into rehearsals where they'd literally switched off sleeping at one another's apartments every day for a week almost, marathoning old musicals or anime episodes or just reading through their scenes together, giving each other critique neither one would've appreciated in a more public setting. After all, who really wanted to hear all his friends say, "Oishi has to sound like he really really needs Kikumaru right there! You don't sound like you need him enough"? Even if it was good critique?
"Mind the bags by the door--I need to set them out in the morning." He gestured absently to two large bags full of PET bottles stacked up in his genkan, threatening to encroach upon his boots and sandals. Shouta slipped off his shoes carefully, though, setting them up neatly in the corner next to Tsujimoto's long-toed boots, and dutifully followed his friend inside. "Want anything to drink? I've got some ramune I picked up at the Sunkus the other day, or...a Chuu-hi, too." He bent forward, peering into his refrigerator and moving a few items around. "Some oolong tea, some apple juice--"
"Tsuji-kun, you know why Oishi and Kikumaru never have to do this?"
Tsujimoto nearly hit his head on the door to his freezer, so quickly did he straighten up. His stomach twisted, and he realized it was because Shouta had this look on his face that was half disappointment, half nervous energy, and he wouldn't look him in the eye. "...Never have to do what?"
"Whatever you asked me to come over for." He started picking at the frayed edges to the thin jacket he'd pulled on back at the theater.
"...Why?"
He looked up. "Because we're still not as close as they are."
Tsujimoto wanted to laugh, and it was only the look on Shouta's face, how utterly serious he was taking this all, that stopped him. "Shouta, they're...they're something no one could ever really be like. They're not even real, they're--more than we are." The way he said it made it sound like he just didn't want to try.
Shouta scratched the side of his head, gaze averted again. "Yeah...I know." And of course he knew. Tsujimoto knew he knew. So why was he trying so damn hard? Why couldn't they just go back to hanging out like normal, having takoyaki parties with Baba-chan, making Toshi do stupid things in the dressing room like put on the Sakuno wig and run around confessing to random Regulars, or just lying there in a corner of the rehearsal hall (or that dark, forgotten room in the bowels of the Seinenkan, like the first time) and nap back to back, feeling each other's breath pushing back against them.
He rand a hand through his hair. "So...what do we do?" Shouta shrugged; a fat lot of good that did him. "I just--I want it to be like before--"
Shouta looked up, expression quizzical and confused. "Before what?"
"Before..." He struggled to define whatever it was he was feeling that was different now, whatever it was that made him feel weird when Shouta squeezed up beside him and called it a Golden Pair thing, whatever it was that had stopped him from telling Shouta what was bothering him in front of the rest of their friends. "Just--before."
The confusion melted into amused patronization, and Shouta snorted. "...Tsuji-kun's so weird."
"I don't know what it is, is all." He was frowning now (pouting, more like it, he knew), and he sighed loudly through his nose, not enjoying Shouta's change in behavior now. "I just--I don't...like it."
Shouta swallowed audibly, clear enough to hear in his silent apartment--he hadn't even turned the air conditioner on yet. "If it's about my ruining the line-up--"
He waved off his worry here. "No--no it's not that. That's--no. It's..." He slapped his face a few times to wake himself up. "Why'd you do it, Shouta?"
The confusion was back. "I just felt like--"
"Toshi's not here, Shouta." He waved a hand around, pushing himself away from the sink and stalking towards his friend, who'd migrated further into the apartment towards the low couch situated across from his Wii. "Baba-chan's not here, no one's here. It's just us, so why are you still acting like we aren't close enough. Aren't we?"
Shouta slumped onto his couch with a sigh, glaring at him. "Why do you think it ever mattered to me if anyone else heard or saw? I did it because I wanted to. Not--because you're Oishi and I'm Kikumaru. That's...just a perk. It all works out."
Scooting across the floor to share scripts, waiting outside the bathroom (every time), sleeping back to back and sometimes front to front if they both rolled right, inane side trips to who-cared-where, synchro in aspects of their lives completely unrelated to their roles, get-outta-the-way-Toshi and getting matching haircuts just because Shouta thought his frizzy hair was cute.
Tsujimoto blinked. Shouta slouched down even further.
"...Are you gonna be weird about it now?" Shouta spoke first. He always made the first move. When Tsujimoto didn't respond, he at least didn't take it to mean he had nothing to say. "We've still go another six months of work, I mean..."
He blinked some more, as if maybe that'd wind time back a bit and he could parse what the hell had just happened. "Shouta, are you...?"
"No," he snapped, arms crossed and eyes glinting in challenge. "No. I'm not. I just..." The glare lost some of its fire here, and the moody, self-conscious Shouta was back. "I just...like Tsuji-kun. That's all."
A year they'd been friends and his logic still didn't make sense to Tsujimoto.
"Shouta...I don't--"
"You don't have to say it, you know," Shouta interrupted flatly, staring up at him from the couch and looking like he'd really have rather been anywhere but in Tsujimoto's apartment at the moment. "Really. I shouldn't have said anything anyways."
"I don't know, Shouta," he repeated calmly, lips pursed, then added in an almost patronizing tone, "You should let me finish when I speak." Shouta at least had the good graces to look properly chastized. And that was the truth--he didn't know. He'd never even contemplated it, really. Sure, he'd known coming into this gig about the "special relationship" between Kikumaru and Oishi--Eiji was his favorite character, how could he have possibly been blinded to it? Anyone who'd read more than a few volumes pretty much had it shoved down their throats, and Tsujimoto...he just took it as another aspect of the characters they had to play. Oishi and Kikumaru were close, he and Shouta needed to be just as much so in order to pull it off believably. Every encouraging touch, every high five, every wave and peace sign and every single glance had to tell the same story about their relationship, or they'd never be taken seriously. And neither one of them was of a mind to not be taken seriously.
So that's all he'd seen. When Shouta squeezed onto the bench next to him during lunch break and bumped shoulders with him, it was to let him know he wanted to share Tsujimoto's copy of the latest issue of Jump. When he woke up in the middle of the night because they'd fallen asleep in the middle of watching a DVD together only to find Shouta's hand on his own, it was because his couch was too small to hold two 20-somethings who needed to bone up on their sempai's performances and just couldn't make it past 2 AM in that endeavor. And when Shouta laced their fingers together during bows instead of just gripping and holding on like everyone else did, it was because he was Kikumaru and Tsujimoto was Oishi and that was a Golden Pair thing.
Right about now he was wishing he had something stronger than Chuu-hi in his fridge.
He knew it was rude to Shouta. To say he just "didn't know." Like a good night's sleep was going to leave him with a clearer head and he could just give a straight answer after he had a good long think about it. It wasn't that simple, and Shouta knew that. Which was why Tsujimoto wasn't so surprised when the corners of Shouta's lips curled up, just like before.
"That's why I never asked how you felt." He shrugged. "If you weren't thinking about it, then there wasn't any reason to bother you with it, and if you were...then whatever." He gave a small cough. "Just...so long as it's not weird or anything. It's not for me."
Tsujimoto frowned, confused at himself more than Shouta. "...I want to think about it, though. Now. I mean--" He scrambled to explain himself, "Of course I don't want it to be weird either, but...come on, it's not..." A sigh. He really sucked at this. "Will you wait? Just...until I catch up?"
Shouta regarded him for a minute, like he could see right through Tsujimoto and knew the guy didn't have a clue what he was asking for, or what he hoped to catch up to. "...You're really weird, you know that?"
Tsujimoto allowed a faint smile. "...I learned from the best."
Author/Artist: fencer_x
Permalink: Archived @ Chicklit here
Warnings/Rating: PG
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Tsujimoto Yuuki/Takasaki Shouta (5th cast Golden Pair)
Notes: Series of disjointed drabbles taking them from their first meeting to...well, you'll see :D Time lines are kinda out of whack, but hopefully it won't be too jarring :P (read: it won't be jarring at all unless you're a detail whore like myself)
In the relatively short time he'd known Shouta (a year now? God, had it been that long? Sometimes each play run seemed to blend into the next until suddenly they'd never spent more than a week apart and it was just life as usual to spend all their waking hours around each other, the other Seigaku members, the staff and supporting cast), he'd come to realize that, for a guy who had only just made his acting debut playing a 15-year-old tennis player, he took his craft quite seriously. And when Ueshima-sensei told them to be each other's shadows, Shouta had leapt to the task quite literally.
Not one week after they'd been contacted regarding their role assignments for the Imperial Match (Tsujimoto had been thrilled that "Takasaki-kun" had been cast, since he was possibly the only person at the audition Tsujimoto found he got along with better than Baba-kun) they'd found themselves sitting at long tables situated in a horseshoe shape, standing one by one and politely introducing themselves to the other actors in the room who, over the next month or two, would become their teammates, their rivals, their friends, their partners. Like some metaphysical game of Twister, Shouta had soundly placed appendages in all four corners when he'd approached Tsujimoto during the lunch break they'd taken between reading for the first and second acts.
"I like your hat," Shouta had commented, idly wandering up behind Tsujimoto while he rifled through his bag looking for his wallet, nearly scaring the pants off of him when he announced his presence by tugging on the brim. "Really cool."
Hand reflexively reaching up to readjust it, he'd smiled out of habit. "Oh. Thanks. It was a present from an actor friend of mine." It was a lie, he'd bought it himself; a shameful extravagance as reward for landing the only role he'd ever need likely for the rest of his 20s. Once you were in TeniMyu, you were someone in the small theatre world.
Shouta smiled widely, the corners of his lips curling strangely, like the Grinch. It was cute, he had to admit, and somehow he knew that this guy was going to be one of the ones the girls giggled over at events, whose photosets they would paw through and coo, "So cute~". Tsujimoto knew he didn't have that adorable air to him--he was just...too normal. Girls had never giggled over him or cooed at him, and he didn't think donning what amounted to a swim-cap with a few pieces of hair sticking up from it was going to accomplish that any time soon. He offered his silent sympathies to Oishi Shuuichiroh on that count; what a trooper!
"Tsuji-kun must be really popular then; how long have you been acting?" By now, Shouta had pulled up one of the foldable chairs scattered about the room and slid into it backwards, cradling his head on his folded arms as he watched Tsujimoto (he felt like a bug under glass with the way Shouta was focusing on him, so interested in his wordly experiences in acting) continue pawing through his bag--where was that damn wallet?
"A while," he answered absently--there it was, in the side pocket he'd zipped up leaving his apartment that morning--and stuffed the wallet into his back jeans pocket. He jerked a thumb at nowhere in particular. "I'm going to run and get some lunch at the 7-11 by the station--" I'll be right back, he'd meant to add.
But Shouta interrupted him, "Mind if I come, too? I'm famished, just been waiting for someone else to go so I didn't have to go alone."
"...People have been going in and out for the past fifteen minutes." This was true; it was the nearest conbini to their rehearsal hall, and the only one that served the karaage he really liked. "Baba-kun even asked if anyone needed anything--"
"I...I don't know anyone else. It would've been weird just following someone around when you don't even know their name, right?"
"Yeah..." he agreed distantly, glancing around the room. Shouta was a weird guy; not creepy-weird, but not entirely not creepy-weird either. They'd hit it off grandly when they'd just been two nervous wannabe actors hoping to land the roles of their lives, but here now...now something had changed, and they had to get along, had to be perfect together, because as unfamiliar as Tsujimoto was with the Tennis no Oujisama series as a whole, he definitely knew who his character was, who Shouta's character was, and who those characters were together. They had to be closer than close, had to be two halves of a whole, had to...had to not be weirded out by one another just because they didn't want to go to the conbini alone. He pursed his lips and nodded. "Really weird, right? Let's get outta here before someone else tries to tag along and ruin our pair."
Shouta's lips were doing that weird curly thing again. Tsujimoto idly thought that he kind of wanted to see just how far in on itself he could make them curl. "Definitely!" He pushed the chair forward and was standing up before Tsujimoto could even settle his bag on his shoulder.
As they wandered out the door, side by side and ostensibly off to a positive start as the newest Golden Pair, Tsujimoto found himself blurting out superiorly, "You know, my last big role was with the first TeniMyu Oishi."
Ueshima-sensei had told them to get close. To be close. "Shouta, I don't--" Tsujimoto whirled on his partner, "Seriously--I don't think even Kikumaru follows Oishi around this much."
"Kikumaru and Oishi have been friends and partners for years. You and I only met for the first time two weeks ago."
He had a point.
"Still--" He held up his hands, miming the distance he'd prefer between them. "I don't think he follows Oishi into the bathroom. I'm pretty sure it's a one-man job there."
Shouta frowned, but stayed in place when Tsujimoto backed away. He half wondered if Shouta was mentally going through every scene with their characters in his mind just to make sure there wasn't some scene wherein Kikumaru followed Oishi into the toilet. "Five minutes, geez," he laughed, waving his friend off. "I'm not going to fall in." Rounding the corner and jogging towards the men's room at the end of the hall, he didn't doubt that if he took one second longer, Shouta would be knocking on the door wondering if he had fallen in.
As it was, Tsujimoto pulled open the door in less than half that time and still found Shouta relaxing against the wall in the hallway, glancing up expectantly at the sound of the knob turning. "We have a lot of catching up to do, is all," he explained.
"We'll be fine, Shouta," he sighed, stepping down onto the linoleum flooring and looping one arm around Shouta's, jerking him forward.
"We could be more than fine, though."
"We're only human."
"No, we're the Golden Pair, it's different."
Somehow this was supposed to make sense. Tsujimoto didn't quite know how this was to happen, yet, but trusted Shouta knew what he was talking about. "You're really weird, you know?"
Shouta pulled his arm in close to his body, yanking Tsujimoto over until their hips brushed together on every other step. "No, you're just not weird enough yet."
The first time he woke up next to Shouta (there was a first time--this probably should've weirded him out more than it did. But it didn't) it hadn't, amazingly enough, been the morning following one of their many (many) yakiniku-and-beer parties with Baba-kun. It'd been deep in the bowels of the Seinenkan, in that blessed hour or so of free time between the high of just getting off stage the high just before going on stage, between the matinee and soiree shows.
Tsujimoto had deliberately sought out the most remote, quietest place in the backstage area (a feat in and of itself) that wasn't overrun by Seigaku or Hyoutei or Higa or makeup artists or hairdressers or Ueshima-sensei himself. Some kept themselves warmed up by going through choreography in the wings or batting around a shuttlecock on the curtained stage, and others like himself just wanted a place to catch a few winks before starting his mental and physical preparations for the evening show.
Once off the stage, he'd darted back to his makeup station and carefully begun his motions to remove the wig, wiping away two hours' worth of sweat and heavy makeup and feeling like a new man underneath. Pulling on a tattered old shirt so he didn't wrinkle his costume, he'd dodged makeup artists and his fellow members, navigating the maze of halls with the ease that came of spending a few days here now, before finally arriving at his destination, a cramped practice hall that was currently being used to store sound equipment and lighting replacements.
He'd wadded up his sweatsuit jacket underneath his head and made sure the lights were turned off, shutting the door soundlessly behind him and feeling his way to the center of the room in the dark. No one would disturb him, of this he was sure, and within moments--barely ten minutes after stepping off the stage and waving goodbye to the fans--he was out like a light.
Some time later, he awoke feeling somehow even more tired, jarred back to the waking world by the frentic buzzing and beeping of his cellphone alarm. He reached out a hand into the darkness, feeling around desperately for his phone that he was afraid he'd sent sliding to the other side of the pitch-black room in his surprise at being awoken.
"Nngh, Tsuji-kun...turn off your cellphone..."
Tsujimoto scrambled upright, feeling in the darkness and hand falling across the head of his doubles partner, who apparently had been sleeping back-to-back with him before his cellphone alarm had gone off. "Sh--Shouta?"
There was the sound of a yawn, and then he found himself with one of Shouta's feet in his lap. "What time is it?"
Casting a glance around him (for all the good it would do), Tsujimoto frowned in the darkness. "An hour after I went to sleep I guess..." The phone had ceased its buzzing, and this meant he really had no hope of finding it in the dark now. He pushed himself up, letting Shouta's foot drop roughly to the floor, and felt around blindly for the doorknob, beside which he knew was the light switch. Fingers finding purchase after a few moments' searching, he flicked the switch on, blinking rapidly at the swift change from dark the light.
On the floor, Shouta winced and blocked the light with a hand. "You pick the hardest places to find to sleep."
"Mostly cause I wanted some privacy," he grinned wryly, knowing Shouta would never take the hint.
Shouta rubbed his eyes and stretched broadly, cracking his back even. "Well--" He shook himself to brush off the fatigue, "--you don't get privacy here, not even during breaks."
"If you were a really good partner, you'd have stood guard outside and made sure I wasn't disturbed."
"I stood guard inside and made sure you weren't disturbed. Isn't that better?"
"I...guess?" he laughed, quite sure he'd never understand Shouta's logic, but happy for the distraction as he picked his cellphone off the floor, rolling it up inside his jacket. He took shook his head to ward off the fatigue threatening to overtake him again. "We should probably get back and start getting ready for the evening shows." He held out a hand, helping yank Shouta upright.
"Yeah." Shouta lifted his arms to stretch, leaning from one side, then the other. When Tsujimto reached for the doorknob, he called back, "Tsuji-kun?"
He turned, "Hm?"
"...I'll wait outside next time."
Tsujimoto paused, regarding his partner, who now busied himself gathering his own makeshift pillow and personal items. "How exactly does that help make us closer?"
Shouta's lips curled in on themselves three times.
They were popular.
This was something new, something unexpected. And he liked it.
Who cared that it came from people (girls, he reminded himself) who only saw them as their characters, who just read volumes into every shoulder squeeze and high five Ueshima-sensei told them to execute, who just saw them as Oishi and Eiji and couldn't care less about their very real friendship (very weird friendship)? Fans were fans, fans brought them money, fans paid to see their shows, paid to keep them employed.
And made them really popular.
"Tsuji-kun's such a ham," Shouta complained good-naturedly after their event, grabbing a slice of perfectly-cooked kalbi right from under Tsujimoto's tongs, smiling even more smugly when his partner glared daggers at him. There was one rule that all of Tsujimoto's friends new and followed: You did not fuck with Tsujimoto Yuuki's cooked meat. True, he was particularly fond of his takoyaki (honestly, what Kansai boy wasn't?), but yakiniku was something he felt very much in tune with his character on. "Oh get over it, we're having a takoyaki party tomorrow. Besides, this is punishment for being annoying on stage."
Tsujimoto shoved his chopsticks into his mouth, ranting around a mouthful of rice, "They paid to see us flirt--I was just doing my job." He took a swig of water, swallowing hard, "If anyone should have their kalbi stolen from under their tongs it's you for being so prissy up there. Na, Baba-chan?"
Baba eyed them both in turn, shaking his head and digging into his rice bowl. "You're both insane, you know?"
"Oi--"
"Toshi can be your MC next time."
"But we like Baba-chan," Tsujimoto wheedled, settling another few slices of meat onto the hot griddle and shooting Shouta a look that dared him to try stealing it this time. "You had fun, admit it."
Baba nodded, reaching for the beer he'd treated himself to after the harrowing experience of keeping up with his costars. "Not more than you two, though."
"We've just got more experience," Shouta smiled, glancing over at Tsujimoto.
"One year best friend experience."
"We'd invite you to join us, but..."
"It's the Golden Pair."
Baba followed them with his eyes as their conversation jumped back and forth, rolling along quite contentedly without him. When they finished, he took a swig of his beer, raising an eyebrow. "That was fucking creepy."
'I'm getting a haircut tomorrow--come with me?'
When had they started taking Ueshima-sensei's advice beyond the rehearsal hall doors? Christmas? No, he definitely remembered a few trips to Akihabara together (sometimes with Baba-chan) and there'd been that one time Shouta had fallen asleep on his couch after coming over to watch old Myus together (they should really do that again...!), so...well, what did it really matter?
Tsujimoto's phone buzzed in his pocket insistently, alerting him to a received text. 'You need moral support to get your split ends trimmed?' Fighting back a grin at Shouta's cheeky response, he quickly texted back instructions to meet at Shinjuku station's southern exit at 1 and possibly be rewarded with a treat at Baskin Robbins afterwards. Five minutes later, another response came:
'Can I get mine cut, too? Synchro practice!'
"Toshi wasn't too happy you shoved him on stage you know." He glanced over at his countermate out of the corner of his eye as he gingerly peeled away the wig, breathing still heavy from getting off stage barely a few minutes earlier. "If you're gonna keep doing that, you should probably warn him so he can flinch next time."
"Oi, Toshi~" Shouta called out immediately, leaning back and holding his wig to his head so it didn't fall off. From the other side of the room came an annoyed, "What?" to which Shouta replied. "Scoot your ass over next time!"
"Stay in your own spot!" was the retort, and someone somewhere in the room let out a little whoop of encouragement. Tsujimoto could only regard their fellow members with mild amusement.
"Well, I warned him," was Shouta's long-suffering reply, and he turned his focus back to his wig, carefully setting the clips in the bangs to keep the curl.
"Why did you do that, anyways?"
There was a beat of silence while Shouta lifted the wig from his head, settling it gingerly on the mannekin head before his, being sure every hair was exactly perfect before he continued his down-dressing routine. "Do what?"
"Come over."
A shrug. "Wanted to. We're always together, only seemed right we should be doing curtain calls together."
"You messed up the order, though."
"You think Ueshima-sensei'll get mad?" Tsujimoto turned the idea over in his mind, deciding that actually, it was probably something the crazy old man had been expecting all along. He glanced over, locking eyes with Shouta, whose lips curled into a smile. "Didn't think so."
"Still, you can't just go changing the order up because you feel like it."
"It's not just cause I feel like it, you know."
"No?"
"It's a Golden Pair thing."
"Ah." One of those things. Tsujimoto was starting to hear that excuse from Shouta a lot lately. It's a Golden Pair thing. He'd hear that, and then his mind would flash to just how far did Shouta intend to take this Golden Pair "thing"?
"You don't like it."
"I don't mind. Especially not if Ueshima-sensei's fine with it."
"But you don't like it." He'd settled an elbow on his station, twisting his upper body so that he was facing Tsujimoto more directly. They weren't alone--they didn't even have the semblance of privacy provided by a corner. He hoped Shouta knew this. "Or else you wouldn't bring it up."
Tsujimoto hid his discomfort behind a smile. "We can talk about it later."
The way Shouta's lips pursed, thin and flat and not curling up at all, told him this had not been the answer he'd been looking for.
"Later" was just that--much much later, until it almost wasn't even the same day. But tomorrow (today) there were no shows, no need to be at a rehearsal hall at such and such time, no need to be at the theater before whenever, no interviews or events or anything but time between one show and the next to fill however Tsujimoto pleased.
And he pleased to fill it with Shouta. For a little while, at least.
Ebo-kun, Ikkou, Toshi, and Akki had all headed out for dinner together, entreating any parties "looking for a good time" to join them. Having been first-hand witness to Toshi's idea of "a good time" before, everyone else politely declined. Ryuuki and Hashimoto had a meeting at the Watanabe offices, and Baba-chan's manager had dropped by to pick him up for a short radio spot he was doing to promote the shows. Their being the only two left without anywhere to go couldn't have been planned better.
It wasn't the first time Tsujimoto had invited Shouta over. Hell, there'd been one stretch a few weeks into rehearsals where they'd literally switched off sleeping at one another's apartments every day for a week almost, marathoning old musicals or anime episodes or just reading through their scenes together, giving each other critique neither one would've appreciated in a more public setting. After all, who really wanted to hear all his friends say, "Oishi has to sound like he really really needs Kikumaru right there! You don't sound like you need him enough"? Even if it was good critique?
"Mind the bags by the door--I need to set them out in the morning." He gestured absently to two large bags full of PET bottles stacked up in his genkan, threatening to encroach upon his boots and sandals. Shouta slipped off his shoes carefully, though, setting them up neatly in the corner next to Tsujimoto's long-toed boots, and dutifully followed his friend inside. "Want anything to drink? I've got some ramune I picked up at the Sunkus the other day, or...a Chuu-hi, too." He bent forward, peering into his refrigerator and moving a few items around. "Some oolong tea, some apple juice--"
"Tsuji-kun, you know why Oishi and Kikumaru never have to do this?"
Tsujimoto nearly hit his head on the door to his freezer, so quickly did he straighten up. His stomach twisted, and he realized it was because Shouta had this look on his face that was half disappointment, half nervous energy, and he wouldn't look him in the eye. "...Never have to do what?"
"Whatever you asked me to come over for." He started picking at the frayed edges to the thin jacket he'd pulled on back at the theater.
"...Why?"
He looked up. "Because we're still not as close as they are."
Tsujimoto wanted to laugh, and it was only the look on Shouta's face, how utterly serious he was taking this all, that stopped him. "Shouta, they're...they're something no one could ever really be like. They're not even real, they're--more than we are." The way he said it made it sound like he just didn't want to try.
Shouta scratched the side of his head, gaze averted again. "Yeah...I know." And of course he knew. Tsujimoto knew he knew. So why was he trying so damn hard? Why couldn't they just go back to hanging out like normal, having takoyaki parties with Baba-chan, making Toshi do stupid things in the dressing room like put on the Sakuno wig and run around confessing to random Regulars, or just lying there in a corner of the rehearsal hall (or that dark, forgotten room in the bowels of the Seinenkan, like the first time) and nap back to back, feeling each other's breath pushing back against them.
He rand a hand through his hair. "So...what do we do?" Shouta shrugged; a fat lot of good that did him. "I just--I want it to be like before--"
Shouta looked up, expression quizzical and confused. "Before what?"
"Before..." He struggled to define whatever it was he was feeling that was different now, whatever it was that made him feel weird when Shouta squeezed up beside him and called it a Golden Pair thing, whatever it was that had stopped him from telling Shouta what was bothering him in front of the rest of their friends. "Just--before."
The confusion melted into amused patronization, and Shouta snorted. "...Tsuji-kun's so weird."
"I don't know what it is, is all." He was frowning now (pouting, more like it, he knew), and he sighed loudly through his nose, not enjoying Shouta's change in behavior now. "I just--I don't...like it."
Shouta swallowed audibly, clear enough to hear in his silent apartment--he hadn't even turned the air conditioner on yet. "If it's about my ruining the line-up--"
He waved off his worry here. "No--no it's not that. That's--no. It's..." He slapped his face a few times to wake himself up. "Why'd you do it, Shouta?"
The confusion was back. "I just felt like--"
"Toshi's not here, Shouta." He waved a hand around, pushing himself away from the sink and stalking towards his friend, who'd migrated further into the apartment towards the low couch situated across from his Wii. "Baba-chan's not here, no one's here. It's just us, so why are you still acting like we aren't close enough. Aren't we?"
Shouta slumped onto his couch with a sigh, glaring at him. "Why do you think it ever mattered to me if anyone else heard or saw? I did it because I wanted to. Not--because you're Oishi and I'm Kikumaru. That's...just a perk. It all works out."
Scooting across the floor to share scripts, waiting outside the bathroom (every time), sleeping back to back and sometimes front to front if they both rolled right, inane side trips to who-cared-where, synchro in aspects of their lives completely unrelated to their roles, get-outta-the-way-Toshi and getting matching haircuts just because Shouta thought his frizzy hair was cute.
Tsujimoto blinked. Shouta slouched down even further.
"...Are you gonna be weird about it now?" Shouta spoke first. He always made the first move. When Tsujimoto didn't respond, he at least didn't take it to mean he had nothing to say. "We've still go another six months of work, I mean..."
He blinked some more, as if maybe that'd wind time back a bit and he could parse what the hell had just happened. "Shouta, are you...?"
"No," he snapped, arms crossed and eyes glinting in challenge. "No. I'm not. I just..." The glare lost some of its fire here, and the moody, self-conscious Shouta was back. "I just...like Tsuji-kun. That's all."
A year they'd been friends and his logic still didn't make sense to Tsujimoto.
"Shouta...I don't--"
"You don't have to say it, you know," Shouta interrupted flatly, staring up at him from the couch and looking like he'd really have rather been anywhere but in Tsujimoto's apartment at the moment. "Really. I shouldn't have said anything anyways."
"I don't know, Shouta," he repeated calmly, lips pursed, then added in an almost patronizing tone, "You should let me finish when I speak." Shouta at least had the good graces to look properly chastized. And that was the truth--he didn't know. He'd never even contemplated it, really. Sure, he'd known coming into this gig about the "special relationship" between Kikumaru and Oishi--Eiji was his favorite character, how could he have possibly been blinded to it? Anyone who'd read more than a few volumes pretty much had it shoved down their throats, and Tsujimoto...he just took it as another aspect of the characters they had to play. Oishi and Kikumaru were close, he and Shouta needed to be just as much so in order to pull it off believably. Every encouraging touch, every high five, every wave and peace sign and every single glance had to tell the same story about their relationship, or they'd never be taken seriously. And neither one of them was of a mind to not be taken seriously.
So that's all he'd seen. When Shouta squeezed onto the bench next to him during lunch break and bumped shoulders with him, it was to let him know he wanted to share Tsujimoto's copy of the latest issue of Jump. When he woke up in the middle of the night because they'd fallen asleep in the middle of watching a DVD together only to find Shouta's hand on his own, it was because his couch was too small to hold two 20-somethings who needed to bone up on their sempai's performances and just couldn't make it past 2 AM in that endeavor. And when Shouta laced their fingers together during bows instead of just gripping and holding on like everyone else did, it was because he was Kikumaru and Tsujimoto was Oishi and that was a Golden Pair thing.
Right about now he was wishing he had something stronger than Chuu-hi in his fridge.
He knew it was rude to Shouta. To say he just "didn't know." Like a good night's sleep was going to leave him with a clearer head and he could just give a straight answer after he had a good long think about it. It wasn't that simple, and Shouta knew that. Which was why Tsujimoto wasn't so surprised when the corners of Shouta's lips curled up, just like before.
"That's why I never asked how you felt." He shrugged. "If you weren't thinking about it, then there wasn't any reason to bother you with it, and if you were...then whatever." He gave a small cough. "Just...so long as it's not weird or anything. It's not for me."
Tsujimoto frowned, confused at himself more than Shouta. "...I want to think about it, though. Now. I mean--" He scrambled to explain himself, "Of course I don't want it to be weird either, but...come on, it's not..." A sigh. He really sucked at this. "Will you wait? Just...until I catch up?"
Shouta regarded him for a minute, like he could see right through Tsujimoto and knew the guy didn't have a clue what he was asking for, or what he hoped to catch up to. "...You're really weird, you know that?"
Tsujimoto allowed a faint smile. "...I learned from the best."