[Team 1] The Smiles Situation
Smiles are to be had for a dime a dozen in these lush, vibrant Western countries, they're so easy to come by. All it takes is an embarrassed attempt at pronouncing hola and buenos días and Tsubasa can get half the block to beam proudly at him, good will written in every wrinkle of their sun-warmed faces. And Tsubasa always finds himself smiling back, the corners of his lips curving up in a response that feels more and more natural on his face the longer he's in the country.
In Japan, smiles are a lot harder to come by. For Tsubasa, they come at the expense of 12 bottles of little white pills a year, and secret anxiety attacks in a corner of his dressing room, and a desperate twitch of his facial muscles every time the camera lands on him. Just the cost of medication alone is enough to pay for several trips to Spain. (Which, really, is why he goes so often these days: if it's all the same, he might as well see the world than sit at home popping pills.)
But the smiles situation isn't as clear-cut as all that. If there were only lazy post-siesta grins and stimulant-induced grimaces to weigh against each other on the balance, Tsubasa would have quit the industry and moved to Spain years ago. But there's Hideaki, too, and Hideaki comes with Japan and Johnnys.
Hideaki is Tsubasa's biggest, brightest, most dazzling source of smiles, and persists in being so even when they're halfway across the world from each other. They used to try to Skype or video call each other when Tsubasa first started traveling, but Hideaki's schedule and Tsubasa's lack of reliable Internet got in the way of that. Nowadays, they content themselves with MMS, images of contented happiness transmitted both ways over the wide Eurasian continent. Hideaki likes to send Tsubasa sappy messages too, silly things like Snow Men said they miss you, but I definitely miss you more! and I'm reserving a ticket for you on the Tackey Express, so come home soon~ that make Tsubasa smile so hard he sometimes has to throw back his head and laugh out loud.
Note: The 'Tackey Express' bit refers to lyrics from their song Yamanote-sen Mawari.
In Japan, smiles are a lot harder to come by. For Tsubasa, they come at the expense of 12 bottles of little white pills a year, and secret anxiety attacks in a corner of his dressing room, and a desperate twitch of his facial muscles every time the camera lands on him. Just the cost of medication alone is enough to pay for several trips to Spain. (Which, really, is why he goes so often these days: if it's all the same, he might as well see the world than sit at home popping pills.)
But the smiles situation isn't as clear-cut as all that. If there were only lazy post-siesta grins and stimulant-induced grimaces to weigh against each other on the balance, Tsubasa would have quit the industry and moved to Spain years ago. But there's Hideaki, too, and Hideaki comes with Japan and Johnnys.
Hideaki is Tsubasa's biggest, brightest, most dazzling source of smiles, and persists in being so even when they're halfway across the world from each other. They used to try to Skype or video call each other when Tsubasa first started traveling, but Hideaki's schedule and Tsubasa's lack of reliable Internet got in the way of that. Nowadays, they content themselves with MMS, images of contented happiness transmitted both ways over the wide Eurasian continent. Hideaki likes to send Tsubasa sappy messages too, silly things like Snow Men said they miss you, but I definitely miss you more! and I'm reserving a ticket for you on the Tackey Express, so come home soon~ that make Tsubasa smile so hard he sometimes has to throw back his head and laugh out loud.
Note: The 'Tackey Express' bit refers to lyrics from their song Yamanote-sen Mawari.