ludwig von drake is always the right answer
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, STILL_CIIRCEE!!! ♥ ♥ ♥
Title: in that certain time
Rating: PG
Pairing(s): Ohno/Nino, Arashi gen
Length ~3,000 words
Summary: Five short vignettes from the same universe/time frame as Saudade. I don't know if these clear anything up or just make everything more complicated, but I feel like I can just let this story premise rest now.
Notes: An birthday gift for the ever-wonderful still_ciircee! You make this fandom so much fun to be in. ♥
Three years ago:
Sho spends the drive back from Ohno's house worrying.
Satoshi had seemed pretty shaken, quiet and somewhat lost in a way that had nothing with his usual floating consciousness and probably a lot to do with the six or so glasses of wine that Nino had downed at Jun's reception and an emotional landmine that, in Sho's opinion, has been building up for longer than was healthy.
Nino isn't rash, but he takes his chances. Sho taps his fingers on the steering wheel, waiting for the traffic light to turn green. He isn't sure - or rather, he really doesn't want to think about exactly what might have happened - Ohno and Nino are both members, after all, and as good as brothers to him.
It doesn't make him uncomfortable exactly, just uneasy.
Whatever Sho thinks though, he really just wants them to be happy. And right now, Nino is alone in his apartment, drunk and probably upset or depressed or confused.
Sho parks the Pajero in Nino's usual spot and bolts out of the car and into Nino's building. In the elevator, he taps out a quick text to Kyoko, letting her know that he probably wouldn't make it over to her place after all that night. She'll understand, even if Sho doesn't explain.
Sho doesn't have a key, but there's surprisingly no fight from Nino. After three knocks and a bit of a pause, Sho can hear socks shuffling across carpet and the lock clicks.
Nino's face, his eyes guarded but hopeful, appears around the door. His mouth twists a little when he sees Sho, like he's trying not to look disappointed.
"Can I come in?" Sho asks. He tucks his hands into his pockets casually, resisting the urge to reach out and smooth down the wayward, damp stickiness of Nino's bangs clinging to his forehead.
"Sho-chan," Nino says, a little thickly. He considers Sho, his eyes still a little vacant. He was way, way drunker, Sho realizes, than Sho had thought he was at the reception, unfocused and still wearing his tuxedo.
Nino wavers a little, leaning sideways against the door frame and Sho takes his chance, catching an arm around his waist and guiding him back into the apartment.
Nino sighs, tilting his head against Sho's shoulder, skin too hot. His eyes are red-rimmed, raw from crying and Sho's heart breaks a little for him. "'M a mess."
"It's okay," Sho says automatically. He steers Nino into his bedroom, gently pushing him down to sit on the bed. He sits beside him, wrapping his arm around Nino's bony shoulders, brushing Nino's bangs off his forehead. "Did you want some water? Anything?"
Nino shakes his head, turning half sideways and nuzzling his face into the broad expanse of Sho's chest, inhaling deeply. "I'm okay." His deep breaths somehow turn into a hitched half-sob, half-laugh, Nino's shoulders shaking. "I fucked up so badly."
"Shh." Sho strokes his hands slowly through Nino's hair, feeling helpless. "Is this about Aemi?"
Nino laughs bitterly, coughing a little. "Was it ever?" He pushes himself away from Sho, wiping at his face. Sho waits, watching Nino struggle to bring himself together. He isn't making any sense at all.
"Are you going to stay?" Nino asks after a minute, not even bothering to hide the neediness or demand in his voice.
Sho doesn't answer him, but he slides Nino's suit jacket off his shoulders gently, folding it as he stands up. Nino lets Sho undress him, obediently and wordlessly lifting his limbs until his clothes are folded neatly on his chair, next to Sho's.
Sho steals an old sweatshirt from Nino's closet, a faded dark green one he's pretty sure originally belonged to Aiba and slides in under the covers next to Nino, staying still as Nino tucks himself against his chest. He slides an arm around Nino, stroking carefully up and down the warm skin of his back.
It feels safe and warm under the sheets, in the dim cool of Nino's bedroom. It seems to sink through to Nino as well, and he starts to calm down a little, dozing against Sho's chest, their breaths evening out together.
"I don't want to talk about it," Nino finally says, about fifteen minutes later, the vibration of his words buzzing against Sho's neck, stirring him from a half-slumber.
"Really?" Sho asks, drowsy. Part of him is honestly dying of curiosity and the other half of him really doesn't want to know why Ohno stumbled back into the car with puffy lips and a noticeably looser tie. "It might help."
Nino nuzzles his cold nose against Sho's neck, hands fisting in Sho's sweatshirt. "That only works if it's something you can fix," he says, his voice small.
"Of course you can fix it," Sho says softly, tightening his grip around Nino's waist, drawing him closer. "Did you and Ohno-san fight?"
Nino is silent for long minutes, still in Sho's arms. Sho has almost resigned himself to never getting an answer when Nino exhales, pulling away from Sho just enough so that he can see his face.
"Did you watch Jun dancing with his wife today?"
Sho studies Nino's face, unsure where this conversation is going. "Of course I did. We all did." Jun had been so bright with happiness, easy and carefree, no tightness in his shoulders and no worry in his eyes. Sho remembers feeling so proud of him that he could have burst. "Why?"
Nino traces a finger against Sho's cheek, tracking the movement of his own fingertips with his eyes. "He has something new to hold onto now," he says quietly, "Besides Arashi."
"That doesn't mean -" Sho begins, but Nino interrupts him.
"He wouldn't say it," Nino moves so that he's lying half on top of Sho, cheek pressed against Sho's chest. "But his heart is divided now. It can't not be. It will be, for all of us."
"Nino," Sho says, exasperated. He combs his fingers gently through Nino's hair. It isn't like that, and even Nino probably wouldn't think so if he wasn't so completely pissed and emotionally wrung-out.
"For Leader, too." Nino's voice cracks and Sho cranes his neck up from the pillows to see the tears sliding down Nino's cheeks. "Him too, he'll - I love him. I don't even think I realized it until today. Stupid."
Sho pulls the sheets above their heads, letting them settle around them like a tent. He doesn't know what to say to that. He can't do anything but hold Nino while he breaks himself apart.
"If I could take it back," Nino asks a few minutes later, voice muffled against Sho's sweatshirt. "Do you think he'll forgive me?"
*
Two years ago:
There's something very comforting, very familiar about Ohno's house. Nino doesn't know if he just thinks about it like that because it is Ohno's place, but even with Ohno gone, it has a certain warmth that seems to block out the seeping chill of the outside world.
Nino spends at least twenty minutes at the hardware store picking just the right shade - bright, but not gaudy, a simple pale golden yellow, like a hot noon sun set high in the sky, or sunflowers. He can't find Ohno's brushes, so he borrows a set from the Akiyama cottage near to Ohno's.
("Are you staying with Satoshi-kun for awhile?" Sumiko-baachan asks him, pouring him tea while Nino fidgets on his cushion, impatient to get back and start his project. "Isn't that nice! I always think that the poor boy must get so lonely, being by himself all the time.")
Ohno's island (Nino has never been able to think about Toshimajima any other way. It only has any significance to him at all because Ohno lives there.) is a tiny rock in the middle of the Pacific, blessed with an apparent surplus of little hotels that cater to bemused American tourists, luxuriously verdant and well-groomed mountain paths and a fishing-mad population of tiny and energetic grandpas.
Ohno fits in like a fish in water. Appropriately enough.
It's not so bad, really. Even with the tourists - Aiba thinks they're funny. One time, he and Nino convinced an entire senior's group from Wisconsin that Jun was the island's volcano god and that it was a custom to throw flowers at him whenever he walked by.
Matsujun exploded better than any volcano, Nino reflected wistfully.
It's been ages since he and Ohno have been alone together at all for any stretch of time, and Nino was slightly worried at first that it would be awkward. It was a bit, but only in Nino's mind. Ohno seemed like himself, the same as ever.
Although sometimes - sometimes Nino could swear that Ohno watched him like he was waiting for Nino to do something.
That was stupid, though. Things were better the way they were now. Or at least, if not better, not irrevocably fucked-up. Nino can live with that.
It's really beginning to feel like fall, and Nino has to raid Ohno's closet for extra sweaters halfway through his painting, even though the entire door frame doesn't take more than an hour to finish. He does it carefully, slowly, two and then three coats.
He wants it to last.
*
One year ago:
Out of all of the members, only Aiba had known, because Jun was too excited to keep it to himself and Aiba had happened to be in the area and drop by for a visit. They had laughed and talked all afternoon and Aiba had left, promising to keep his secret, insides warm even in the deep December chill with a glowing happiness.
Jun was going to be a papa, come summertime.
("Aiko's got me sworn to secrecy." Jun's hands were wrapped around his tea mug, but Aiba could see his fingers shaking with excitement, his smile almost too wide for his face to contain it. "She wants to wait until we're past the first trimester, we haven't even told our parents."
"I won't tell anyone," Aiba promised, and then, "Are you going to name it after me?"
"Only if it's a girl," Jun grinned and ducked the swat Aiba aimed at his head.)
No one else had known, and so no one else knew what it meant when Jun's manager quietly pulled him off the set during a break one day about two weeks later, whispering quietly and urgently to him.
Aiba sees Jun's eyes widen, his whole body visibly tensing.
"I think we'll have to reschedule," Jun's manager begins, when the producer came over to see what was going on. "There's been a -"
"No, it's all right," Jun cuts in. "Let's keep going."
Filming takes another two hours to finish and Aiba can't stop watching Jun the whole time. He gives no outward sign of distress and he laughs and talks pleasantly with the guests until the cameras are off and everyone's packing up to leave.
Aiba brushes off Ohno's offer to go out for drinks and searches for Jun in the maze of green rooms and corridors until he finds Jun curled into himself in a corner of an empty wardrobe room, fingers gripping tightly into his own hair.
"Jun-chan," Aiba says, softly. He doesn't know what else to say.
"It was a miscarriage. Early pregnancy termination." Jun's eyes are closed, his whole face screwed up like he's in pain. "The doctor said that they're fairly common, at the beginning."
Aiba slides down the wall and sits next to him. Jun looks like his world is broken in half and Aiba can't fix it for him. "Are you going to the hospital? Is Aiko there?"
"She's already at home." Jun buries his face in his hands. "I can't face her now. I don't know how. She wanted this baby so much."
Aiba leans against his side, unsure what to do. "She probably needs you right now, though."
"I know." Jun rubs at his face with both hands. "I know. Listen, Masaki - don't tell anyone, okay?"
"I won't," Aiba promises quietly.
He never does.
*
Six months ago:
Ohno is dead tired, with a relaxed, bone-weary sort of lethargy that he always gets after spending about six hours in a boat. He feels tired, exhilarated but exhausted, high on fresh ocean air, salty and sharp. They had left from the dock near the Tanaka cottage and Ohno chose to walk back to his own place on the beach, instead of taking the main roads through the town.
It's twice as long, but Ohno is fine with that. He can put one foot in front of the other, but he's not feeling up to making conversation right now, since he's so tired. He always sees people that he knows when he walks through town.
He probably wouldn't have noticed the box under the pier at all if he hadn't been absentmindedly looking at the high-water marks on the posts that had been left before the tide went out. It was a small box, wet cardboard and - as Ohno gets closer, he realizes that there are small, frantic noises coming from inside the box.
The kittens are tiny, all huddled together in one corner of the box for warmth, mewing pathetically. The black one, the smallest of the three, is completely still. Ohno kneels beside the box, heart suddenly sick with fear and anger.
"It's okay," he tells the kittens soothingly, and he carefully gathers the box up in his arms. It isn't far to his house now. "It's okay, I'll take you somewhere safe." The two conscious kittens look up at him curiously as he jogs carefully, trying to shield the kittens from the cold wind.
Luckily for Ohno, Sugiura-san who lives just on the other side of the island is a retired veterinarian and he hurries over as soon as he gets Ohno's call. Ohno has turned up the heat in his house as far as he can, but the kittens are still shivering, huddled together in the middle of the soft blue afghan that Ohno's mother gave him as a homewarming present.
Sugiura-san's mouth is a grim line as he kneels down next to Ohno on the carpet. Ohno stays quiet while he examines the kittens. "About three weeks old," he says quietly. "You said they were on the beach?"
"The box was wet." It feels like there's a lump in Ohno's throat as he watches Sugiura-san prod at the prone form of the tiny black kitten. "The tide might have come in on them once already."
Sugiura-san mutters a curse under his breath. "I can get you some milk replacement, but they're going to need to be watched closely. Kittens this young die of cold very easily." He strokes the black one's head with one finger. "It's a miracle that this one is still breathing. He may not make it yet."
"He will," Ohno says quietly, firmly. "They all will."
*
Now:
"Good morning," Aiba mumbles directly into Jun's ear, breath hot and ticklish. Jun squirms away, batting Aiba's heavy arm off his chest.
"It's still night, Masaki." Jun shoves Aiba closer towards Sho. It was that idiot's idea to make them all sleep out on Leader's back porch, so he can damn well steal someone else's body heat.
"Stingy," Aiba mutters, snuggling backwards into Sho.
Jun has to admit, it's kind of nice - they're all swaddled in long underwear and what feels like five sweaters and sets of socks each and stuffed into Leader's two big thermal sleeping bags that he uses on overnight fishing trips. Jun feels toasty and comfortable, the sharp chill of the night wind stinging his cheeks. Everything feels so bright and crisp, the stars are unimaginably clear in the pitch black sky.
Jun tries to think back a year, then two. He wonders what Aiko is doing, probably back at her parent's house in Fukuoka. He didn't imagine that things would turn out like this. He twists the weight of his wedding band around his finger, burrowing his head deeper into the sleeping bag. He doesn't know what changed. He certainly didn't - and maybe that's just it. He didn't change at all, he was too afraid to.
Ohno is snoring softly in the other sleeping bag, he and Nino tangled together in a way that looks almost claustrophobic to Jun. Under the light of the stars, Jun can see that Nino's eyes are still open, watching Ohno sleep.
Sho lets out a rattling snore that completely drowns out Ohno's warbly nosewhistling. Jun silently hopes that it doesn't match any of the local bird species' mating calls.
Aiba buries his face in the back of Jun's neck, the tip of his nose freezing cold. "So noisy," Aiba groans.
Jun gives no response, still watching the stars. "Cold?" he asks, finally. He can feel Aiba shake his head against the back of his neck.
"It's a new year now," Aiba says. His words are punctuated with a giant yawn. "A brand new year."
Jun moves his head so that Aiba's head moves onto his shoulder, sharp chin jutting against Jun's collarbone. "Go to sleep," he says softly.
Aiba yawns again, consenting. "We need to watch the sunrise," he mumbles, snuggling in closer against Jun's back.
Jun lies still, listening to Aiba's breaths even out, watching the stars flicker overhead and breathing in the stillness of the winter night. He's warm and content, sluggish with heat and sleepiness and a few too many beers. There's a strange, happy tightness in his chest, a seed of hope beginning to bloom behind the sharp anger and frustration that's cut through him like a knife for the past few months.
He keeps an eye on the east, waiting for the new day to begin.
FIN
Cross-posted to kotobayori
Title: in that certain time
Rating: PG
Pairing(s): Ohno/Nino, Arashi gen
Length ~3,000 words
Summary: Five short vignettes from the same universe/time frame as Saudade. I don't know if these clear anything up or just make everything more complicated, but I feel like I can just let this story premise rest now.
Notes: An birthday gift for the ever-wonderful still_ciircee! You make this fandom so much fun to be in. ♥
Three years ago:
Sho spends the drive back from Ohno's house worrying.
Satoshi had seemed pretty shaken, quiet and somewhat lost in a way that had nothing with his usual floating consciousness and probably a lot to do with the six or so glasses of wine that Nino had downed at Jun's reception and an emotional landmine that, in Sho's opinion, has been building up for longer than was healthy.
Nino isn't rash, but he takes his chances. Sho taps his fingers on the steering wheel, waiting for the traffic light to turn green. He isn't sure - or rather, he really doesn't want to think about exactly what might have happened - Ohno and Nino are both members, after all, and as good as brothers to him.
It doesn't make him uncomfortable exactly, just uneasy.
Whatever Sho thinks though, he really just wants them to be happy. And right now, Nino is alone in his apartment, drunk and probably upset or depressed or confused.
Sho parks the Pajero in Nino's usual spot and bolts out of the car and into Nino's building. In the elevator, he taps out a quick text to Kyoko, letting her know that he probably wouldn't make it over to her place after all that night. She'll understand, even if Sho doesn't explain.
Sho doesn't have a key, but there's surprisingly no fight from Nino. After three knocks and a bit of a pause, Sho can hear socks shuffling across carpet and the lock clicks.
Nino's face, his eyes guarded but hopeful, appears around the door. His mouth twists a little when he sees Sho, like he's trying not to look disappointed.
"Can I come in?" Sho asks. He tucks his hands into his pockets casually, resisting the urge to reach out and smooth down the wayward, damp stickiness of Nino's bangs clinging to his forehead.
"Sho-chan," Nino says, a little thickly. He considers Sho, his eyes still a little vacant. He was way, way drunker, Sho realizes, than Sho had thought he was at the reception, unfocused and still wearing his tuxedo.
Nino wavers a little, leaning sideways against the door frame and Sho takes his chance, catching an arm around his waist and guiding him back into the apartment.
Nino sighs, tilting his head against Sho's shoulder, skin too hot. His eyes are red-rimmed, raw from crying and Sho's heart breaks a little for him. "'M a mess."
"It's okay," Sho says automatically. He steers Nino into his bedroom, gently pushing him down to sit on the bed. He sits beside him, wrapping his arm around Nino's bony shoulders, brushing Nino's bangs off his forehead. "Did you want some water? Anything?"
Nino shakes his head, turning half sideways and nuzzling his face into the broad expanse of Sho's chest, inhaling deeply. "I'm okay." His deep breaths somehow turn into a hitched half-sob, half-laugh, Nino's shoulders shaking. "I fucked up so badly."
"Shh." Sho strokes his hands slowly through Nino's hair, feeling helpless. "Is this about Aemi?"
Nino laughs bitterly, coughing a little. "Was it ever?" He pushes himself away from Sho, wiping at his face. Sho waits, watching Nino struggle to bring himself together. He isn't making any sense at all.
"Are you going to stay?" Nino asks after a minute, not even bothering to hide the neediness or demand in his voice.
Sho doesn't answer him, but he slides Nino's suit jacket off his shoulders gently, folding it as he stands up. Nino lets Sho undress him, obediently and wordlessly lifting his limbs until his clothes are folded neatly on his chair, next to Sho's.
Sho steals an old sweatshirt from Nino's closet, a faded dark green one he's pretty sure originally belonged to Aiba and slides in under the covers next to Nino, staying still as Nino tucks himself against his chest. He slides an arm around Nino, stroking carefully up and down the warm skin of his back.
It feels safe and warm under the sheets, in the dim cool of Nino's bedroom. It seems to sink through to Nino as well, and he starts to calm down a little, dozing against Sho's chest, their breaths evening out together.
"I don't want to talk about it," Nino finally says, about fifteen minutes later, the vibration of his words buzzing against Sho's neck, stirring him from a half-slumber.
"Really?" Sho asks, drowsy. Part of him is honestly dying of curiosity and the other half of him really doesn't want to know why Ohno stumbled back into the car with puffy lips and a noticeably looser tie. "It might help."
Nino nuzzles his cold nose against Sho's neck, hands fisting in Sho's sweatshirt. "That only works if it's something you can fix," he says, his voice small.
"Of course you can fix it," Sho says softly, tightening his grip around Nino's waist, drawing him closer. "Did you and Ohno-san fight?"
Nino is silent for long minutes, still in Sho's arms. Sho has almost resigned himself to never getting an answer when Nino exhales, pulling away from Sho just enough so that he can see his face.
"Did you watch Jun dancing with his wife today?"
Sho studies Nino's face, unsure where this conversation is going. "Of course I did. We all did." Jun had been so bright with happiness, easy and carefree, no tightness in his shoulders and no worry in his eyes. Sho remembers feeling so proud of him that he could have burst. "Why?"
Nino traces a finger against Sho's cheek, tracking the movement of his own fingertips with his eyes. "He has something new to hold onto now," he says quietly, "Besides Arashi."
"That doesn't mean -" Sho begins, but Nino interrupts him.
"He wouldn't say it," Nino moves so that he's lying half on top of Sho, cheek pressed against Sho's chest. "But his heart is divided now. It can't not be. It will be, for all of us."
"Nino," Sho says, exasperated. He combs his fingers gently through Nino's hair. It isn't like that, and even Nino probably wouldn't think so if he wasn't so completely pissed and emotionally wrung-out.
"For Leader, too." Nino's voice cracks and Sho cranes his neck up from the pillows to see the tears sliding down Nino's cheeks. "Him too, he'll - I love him. I don't even think I realized it until today. Stupid."
Sho pulls the sheets above their heads, letting them settle around them like a tent. He doesn't know what to say to that. He can't do anything but hold Nino while he breaks himself apart.
"If I could take it back," Nino asks a few minutes later, voice muffled against Sho's sweatshirt. "Do you think he'll forgive me?"
*
Two years ago:
There's something very comforting, very familiar about Ohno's house. Nino doesn't know if he just thinks about it like that because it is Ohno's place, but even with Ohno gone, it has a certain warmth that seems to block out the seeping chill of the outside world.
Nino spends at least twenty minutes at the hardware store picking just the right shade - bright, but not gaudy, a simple pale golden yellow, like a hot noon sun set high in the sky, or sunflowers. He can't find Ohno's brushes, so he borrows a set from the Akiyama cottage near to Ohno's.
("Are you staying with Satoshi-kun for awhile?" Sumiko-baachan asks him, pouring him tea while Nino fidgets on his cushion, impatient to get back and start his project. "Isn't that nice! I always think that the poor boy must get so lonely, being by himself all the time.")
Ohno's island (Nino has never been able to think about Toshimajima any other way. It only has any significance to him at all because Ohno lives there.) is a tiny rock in the middle of the Pacific, blessed with an apparent surplus of little hotels that cater to bemused American tourists, luxuriously verdant and well-groomed mountain paths and a fishing-mad population of tiny and energetic grandpas.
Ohno fits in like a fish in water. Appropriately enough.
It's not so bad, really. Even with the tourists - Aiba thinks they're funny. One time, he and Nino convinced an entire senior's group from Wisconsin that Jun was the island's volcano god and that it was a custom to throw flowers at him whenever he walked by.
Matsujun exploded better than any volcano, Nino reflected wistfully.
It's been ages since he and Ohno have been alone together at all for any stretch of time, and Nino was slightly worried at first that it would be awkward. It was a bit, but only in Nino's mind. Ohno seemed like himself, the same as ever.
Although sometimes - sometimes Nino could swear that Ohno watched him like he was waiting for Nino to do something.
That was stupid, though. Things were better the way they were now. Or at least, if not better, not irrevocably fucked-up. Nino can live with that.
It's really beginning to feel like fall, and Nino has to raid Ohno's closet for extra sweaters halfway through his painting, even though the entire door frame doesn't take more than an hour to finish. He does it carefully, slowly, two and then three coats.
He wants it to last.
*
One year ago:
Out of all of the members, only Aiba had known, because Jun was too excited to keep it to himself and Aiba had happened to be in the area and drop by for a visit. They had laughed and talked all afternoon and Aiba had left, promising to keep his secret, insides warm even in the deep December chill with a glowing happiness.
Jun was going to be a papa, come summertime.
("Aiko's got me sworn to secrecy." Jun's hands were wrapped around his tea mug, but Aiba could see his fingers shaking with excitement, his smile almost too wide for his face to contain it. "She wants to wait until we're past the first trimester, we haven't even told our parents."
"I won't tell anyone," Aiba promised, and then, "Are you going to name it after me?"
"Only if it's a girl," Jun grinned and ducked the swat Aiba aimed at his head.)
No one else had known, and so no one else knew what it meant when Jun's manager quietly pulled him off the set during a break one day about two weeks later, whispering quietly and urgently to him.
Aiba sees Jun's eyes widen, his whole body visibly tensing.
"I think we'll have to reschedule," Jun's manager begins, when the producer came over to see what was going on. "There's been a -"
"No, it's all right," Jun cuts in. "Let's keep going."
Filming takes another two hours to finish and Aiba can't stop watching Jun the whole time. He gives no outward sign of distress and he laughs and talks pleasantly with the guests until the cameras are off and everyone's packing up to leave.
Aiba brushes off Ohno's offer to go out for drinks and searches for Jun in the maze of green rooms and corridors until he finds Jun curled into himself in a corner of an empty wardrobe room, fingers gripping tightly into his own hair.
"Jun-chan," Aiba says, softly. He doesn't know what else to say.
"It was a miscarriage. Early pregnancy termination." Jun's eyes are closed, his whole face screwed up like he's in pain. "The doctor said that they're fairly common, at the beginning."
Aiba slides down the wall and sits next to him. Jun looks like his world is broken in half and Aiba can't fix it for him. "Are you going to the hospital? Is Aiko there?"
"She's already at home." Jun buries his face in his hands. "I can't face her now. I don't know how. She wanted this baby so much."
Aiba leans against his side, unsure what to do. "She probably needs you right now, though."
"I know." Jun rubs at his face with both hands. "I know. Listen, Masaki - don't tell anyone, okay?"
"I won't," Aiba promises quietly.
He never does.
*
Six months ago:
Ohno is dead tired, with a relaxed, bone-weary sort of lethargy that he always gets after spending about six hours in a boat. He feels tired, exhilarated but exhausted, high on fresh ocean air, salty and sharp. They had left from the dock near the Tanaka cottage and Ohno chose to walk back to his own place on the beach, instead of taking the main roads through the town.
It's twice as long, but Ohno is fine with that. He can put one foot in front of the other, but he's not feeling up to making conversation right now, since he's so tired. He always sees people that he knows when he walks through town.
He probably wouldn't have noticed the box under the pier at all if he hadn't been absentmindedly looking at the high-water marks on the posts that had been left before the tide went out. It was a small box, wet cardboard and - as Ohno gets closer, he realizes that there are small, frantic noises coming from inside the box.
The kittens are tiny, all huddled together in one corner of the box for warmth, mewing pathetically. The black one, the smallest of the three, is completely still. Ohno kneels beside the box, heart suddenly sick with fear and anger.
"It's okay," he tells the kittens soothingly, and he carefully gathers the box up in his arms. It isn't far to his house now. "It's okay, I'll take you somewhere safe." The two conscious kittens look up at him curiously as he jogs carefully, trying to shield the kittens from the cold wind.
Luckily for Ohno, Sugiura-san who lives just on the other side of the island is a retired veterinarian and he hurries over as soon as he gets Ohno's call. Ohno has turned up the heat in his house as far as he can, but the kittens are still shivering, huddled together in the middle of the soft blue afghan that Ohno's mother gave him as a homewarming present.
Sugiura-san's mouth is a grim line as he kneels down next to Ohno on the carpet. Ohno stays quiet while he examines the kittens. "About three weeks old," he says quietly. "You said they were on the beach?"
"The box was wet." It feels like there's a lump in Ohno's throat as he watches Sugiura-san prod at the prone form of the tiny black kitten. "The tide might have come in on them once already."
Sugiura-san mutters a curse under his breath. "I can get you some milk replacement, but they're going to need to be watched closely. Kittens this young die of cold very easily." He strokes the black one's head with one finger. "It's a miracle that this one is still breathing. He may not make it yet."
"He will," Ohno says quietly, firmly. "They all will."
*
Now:
"Good morning," Aiba mumbles directly into Jun's ear, breath hot and ticklish. Jun squirms away, batting Aiba's heavy arm off his chest.
"It's still night, Masaki." Jun shoves Aiba closer towards Sho. It was that idiot's idea to make them all sleep out on Leader's back porch, so he can damn well steal someone else's body heat.
"Stingy," Aiba mutters, snuggling backwards into Sho.
Jun has to admit, it's kind of nice - they're all swaddled in long underwear and what feels like five sweaters and sets of socks each and stuffed into Leader's two big thermal sleeping bags that he uses on overnight fishing trips. Jun feels toasty and comfortable, the sharp chill of the night wind stinging his cheeks. Everything feels so bright and crisp, the stars are unimaginably clear in the pitch black sky.
Jun tries to think back a year, then two. He wonders what Aiko is doing, probably back at her parent's house in Fukuoka. He didn't imagine that things would turn out like this. He twists the weight of his wedding band around his finger, burrowing his head deeper into the sleeping bag. He doesn't know what changed. He certainly didn't - and maybe that's just it. He didn't change at all, he was too afraid to.
Ohno is snoring softly in the other sleeping bag, he and Nino tangled together in a way that looks almost claustrophobic to Jun. Under the light of the stars, Jun can see that Nino's eyes are still open, watching Ohno sleep.
Sho lets out a rattling snore that completely drowns out Ohno's warbly nosewhistling. Jun silently hopes that it doesn't match any of the local bird species' mating calls.
Aiba buries his face in the back of Jun's neck, the tip of his nose freezing cold. "So noisy," Aiba groans.
Jun gives no response, still watching the stars. "Cold?" he asks, finally. He can feel Aiba shake his head against the back of his neck.
"It's a new year now," Aiba says. His words are punctuated with a giant yawn. "A brand new year."
Jun moves his head so that Aiba's head moves onto his shoulder, sharp chin jutting against Jun's collarbone. "Go to sleep," he says softly.
Aiba yawns again, consenting. "We need to watch the sunrise," he mumbles, snuggling in closer against Jun's back.
Jun lies still, listening to Aiba's breaths even out, watching the stars flicker overhead and breathing in the stillness of the winter night. He's warm and content, sluggish with heat and sleepiness and a few too many beers. There's a strange, happy tightness in his chest, a seed of hope beginning to bloom behind the sharp anger and frustration that's cut through him like a knife for the past few months.
He keeps an eye on the east, waiting for the new day to begin.
FIN
Cross-posted to kotobayori