[fic]: narrow road to far province - part 1 (ryo/shige)
Title: Narrow Road To Far Province
Written: 311208
Summary: Shige's journey from where he was, to where he is, and of the person who accompanied him along the way. Pre-Ryo/Shige :p
Chapter: Part 1. WC: 2016.
Fandom: Johnny's Entertainment
Notes: This is another one of those times I think I'm biting off more than I can chew, but if I don't put it up, then I might never continue or finish it XP Also supposed to be dark3princess' belated bdae gift. forgive me, dear, i hope you don't mind that your gift comes in installments lolz.
The blast of sunlight bursts in, flooding Shige's bedroom when his mother forcefully draws back the curtains during mornings of high summer.
Shige's first instinct has always been to shy away, turning his head to bury his face into the pillow, away from the blinding brilliance pricking his tender eyes. But even with his eyes shut, he still senses the glowing illumination warm and red behind his eyelids.
Eventually, Shige will shift and gradually peek out from beneath the covers, marvelling at how bright and airy his room seems with the light pouring in through the double windows, how the spaces all seem that much wider, compared to the cosy gloom of the night before. He slowly tumbles out of bed and crawls out of the tangle of bedding he's half-trailed down to the floor with him, pushing to his feet and softly padding across the floor to the window, pressing his cheek to the smooth glass pane.
Shige daydreams a bit, under the view of the wispy clouds slowly floating by and the impossibly blue sky, before the voice of his mother calling to breakfast pulls him away.
“Shift, you.” Shige jumps a little at the brusque instruction, accompanied by the sharp poke to the back of his shoulder.
“What?” He turns, ostensibly to meet his senpai's impatient gaze, but all he manages is to fixate on the dirty blond curls on top of the other boy's head.
“I said, shift,” Nishikido Ryo repeats, his Kansai-ben further accentuating his 'I'm talking to an idiot' tone. “You're blocking my face.” And sure enough, the photographer signals for Shige to crouch lower.
Shige flushes and bends down further, privately seething at being dictated to by a virtual stranger, even if it's a jimusho senpai who is two years his senior. In between takes, he looks over longingly at Koyama and Kusano, who, though not totally enjoying themselves, at least appear more at ease.
“Oi, pay attention to the camera.” Shige jumps again, cursing his own nerves, and mumbles an apology as he forces himself to concentrate on the cues from the photographer.
When the torturous shoot is over, he hurries back to the refuge of the remaining two-thirds of K.K.Kity, sighing with relief as he sinks down next to Kusano.
“That wasn't too bad, right?” Koyama asks with a consoling note in his voice as he cranes his head around Kusano.
“I guess,” Shige replies as he sips from his water bottle, surreptitiously watching the blond-haired boy stalk back to the other end of the room, where the only table and couch is situated, and where Yamashita Tomohisa and the other Kansai Junior - Shige vaguely remembers his name is Uchi - are sitting.
“I wonder why we're all here, it's a strange combination, isn't it?” Koyama continues. He's looking at Moriuchi and Masuda, who appears a little forlorn away from the rest of Kisumai. There's also another Junior they barely know, all wary eyes and messy hair.
Shige 'hmm's in response, but he thinks he might have an inkling. He'll just rather not vocalise it yet, in case it jinxes the whole thing. It's something every boy who joins the Jimusho works for, but he's not completely sure whether he's happy with the notion, if it means he'll end up having to work closely with the likes of that Kansai tyrant. Still, he understands that chances like these are hard to come by, so he merely shrugs to himself, and waits for the inevitable.
*
There are days when the skies seem sort of overcast, somewhere between off-white and not-grey, and the oppressive heat gathers under the cloud bank, nowhere to go but to remain cloyingly upon skin and under his clothes, leaving Shige with sticky palms and a damp scalp.
Days like these, Shige wants nothing more than to sprawl on his stomach in his father's study, the air-conditioning at full blast, lazing like the nameless cat in Soseki's fascinating novel.
But the alarm on his phone beeps, and he reluctantly uncurls from his spot on the couch, preparing to go to the Jimusho for more tedious dance practices and rehearsals.
Shige trudges through the doors of the Jimusho, the barely cool air doing nothing to remove the humidity suffocating his lungs. When he drags his feet towards the dance studio and opens the door, he finds seven other faces, half of them worried and the other half annoyed, all focused upon him.
“There you are! Now that his highness has arrived, we can finally do a proper run-through!” Nishikido pushes up from where he's sitting to position himself in front of the mirror, Yamashita-kun also mechanically following him to take his own place. Uchi flashes Shige an irritated glance before standing behind Ryo.
“Hurry up!”
Everyone else springs up and scurries into formation at Ryo's bark. Still confused, Shige quickly drops his bag by the wall and moves to catch up with the rest as the music starts. Being flustered and bewildered does not help him.
“Where were you?” Koyama asks when they take a short break.
“What do you mean?” Shige tries to control his panting breaths, telling himself he's imagining the killer glares coming from the elite section of the room.
“He means you were nearly forty-five minutes late,” Kusano interjects from Shige's other side. “And Nishikido-jun was blistering our ears off about people who can't stick to schedule and end up wasting his goddamn precious time.” He slips into Kansai-ben for the last few words, imitating Nishikido's typical cheesed-off expression.
“No! I was on-- I was late?” Shige exclaims disbelievingly as he rummages through his bag for their schedule. The incriminating digits stare back at him accusingly from the piece of crumpled paper. “Oh... shit, I was late.”
The knowledge of his inexplicable carelessness plagues him throughout the rest of practice, making him stumble even more than normal, and earning twice the number of sharp-tongued barbs from Nishikido. He knows he more or less deserves it this time, and it's just his turn being unlucky today - Nishikido is impartial with his poison-tongue towards all members of the group with the exception of Uchi and Yamashita-kun - but each word still pricks deep, sinking through Shige's skin to clutch at his throat and squeeze at his heart.
It gets to a point that even Uchi seems to feel sorry for him, because at the end of practice, he whispers apologetically to Shige, “We're really on a super-packed schedule these past couple days, so he's doubly cranky.” He doesn't ask Shige to not mind, seeing as it's a little too late for that.
Uchi and Nishikido have already packed their stuff, Nishikido already striding out the studio door. Shige wishes he could have just let them go, but he's seen Nishikido's tired, irritable expression as he was leaving, and Shige's parents haven't raised him to be an individual who squirms his way past mistakes. Which is probably why, though half of him hates it and is kicking and screaming at the other half for even contemplating it, he finds himself following Uchi through the doorway, out into the corridor where Nishikido is waiting, leaning against the wall with one foot tapping impatiently.
“Ano, Nishikido-kun,” Shige blurts out before he loses his courage. “I'm sorry for being late for practice today, especially when yours and Uchi-kun's schedules are so tight. It was careless and irresponsible of me.” He straightens out from his bow to meet Nishikido's startled gaze, for once devoid of a sneer or smirk.
“...Whatever,” Shige thinks he hears Nishikido mumble, before the older boy hitches the strap on his bag higher and walks away, urging Uchi to hurry up.
Uchi winks at Shige, giving him a thumbs-up and a quick grin as he darts past, easily catching up to Nishikido.
Shige stands there, until they turn the corner and are lost from sight.
*
It starts pelting just seconds before the train pulls into the station and Shige glares at the gloomy skies from where he has paused at the entrance of the train station, debating whether to make a dash for it.
The outlines of the buildings on the opposite side of the street are blurred by the straight lines of water and the Jimusho building, three blocks down, is practically invisible.
There's just no way to win in situations like these, Shige thinks sourly to himself as he unfolds his umbrella, shaking it out. He could wait for the downpour to lessen, making himself inevitably late, or he could be on time and suffer soggy footwear for the rest of the day.
The frown line cuts deeper into Shige's forehead as he clutches his bag closer and steps out of the train station's shelter.
It has not been a good afternoon.
Rehearsal ultimately started late as some of the other members ranked their love for dry feet over their dedication to punctuality, and their choreographer, Kuroda-san, felt that better use could be made of the time remaining to practise their solos for the upcoming concert instead.
Shige reluctantly faces himself in the mirror after Kuroda-san runs through how he wants Shige to perform 'Survival'. The bass beats start and Shige feels himself hating the song already.
After the seventh time Shige messes up the steps as the song enters the chorus, Kuroda-san gives up and suggests for Shige to take a break, wandering over to Yamashita-kun, who is executing his dance flawlessly, and really doesn't need any supervision at all.
Shige slowly walks over to where he's left his bag and leans back against the wall. The tears come unbidden from one breath to the next.
He touches the moisture trickling down his cheeks, as the pressure in his chest and head grows. It becomes harder and harder to breathe, and he hysterically wonders why he can't do this when it comes to actual drama filming.
He rubs his face harshly with his towel to stop the tears but it just makes everything worse. When he looks up, it's to see, of all people, Nishikido staring at him with a frown. Before Shige knows it, his feet have carried him out of the dance studio, down the corridor and into the washroom, where he locks himself into one of the cubicles and sits down heavily on the toilet seat, trying and failing to control his heaving sobs.
Suddenly the door to the washroom opens and someone enters. The footsteps stop outside his cubicle and there's a rap on the door.
“Shige, you there?” Nishikido's voice seems abnormally loud in the silence, echoing through the room.
Shige takes a deep breath, praying for his voice to be steady before he answers. “Y-yes, must have been something I ate.” But his voice wobbles and cracks towards the end, and it just brings on a fresh wave of crying again.
Nishikido doesn't say anything for a long time, and Shige can almost imagine he's alone again if not for the fact that he hasn't heard any footsteps heading towards the door.
“Did you really think things would always happen the way you expect it to?”
Shige's head jerks up in surprise.
There's a soft thud as Nishikido leans against the cubicle door and unconsciously, Shige stands up, drawing closer.
“You signed up for this, and you've come this far. If it's been peaches and cream all this time, then you were just damn lucky. In this industry, we do the things we hate, so that we get to do what we love.”
The words resound in Shige's mind as his fingers dig crescents into his palms. He leans his forehead against the hard vinyl of the cubicle door, his jagged breathing gradually evening out.
In the resulting quiet, the only thing Shige hears is the hollow patter of raindrops against the washroom's tiny window, and then Nishikido softly saying, “Don't lose to yourself.”
Shige closes his eyes and unlocks the door.
end part 1
A/N: any comments are always greatly loved and appreciated. happy new year! ^__^
part 2
Written: 311208
Summary: Shige's journey from where he was, to where he is, and of the person who accompanied him along the way. Pre-Ryo/Shige :p
Chapter: Part 1. WC: 2016.
Fandom: Johnny's Entertainment
Notes: This is another one of those times I think I'm biting off more than I can chew, but if I don't put it up, then I might never continue or finish it XP Also supposed to be dark3princess' belated bdae gift. forgive me, dear, i hope you don't mind that your gift comes in installments lolz.
The blast of sunlight bursts in, flooding Shige's bedroom when his mother forcefully draws back the curtains during mornings of high summer.
Shige's first instinct has always been to shy away, turning his head to bury his face into the pillow, away from the blinding brilliance pricking his tender eyes. But even with his eyes shut, he still senses the glowing illumination warm and red behind his eyelids.
Eventually, Shige will shift and gradually peek out from beneath the covers, marvelling at how bright and airy his room seems with the light pouring in through the double windows, how the spaces all seem that much wider, compared to the cosy gloom of the night before. He slowly tumbles out of bed and crawls out of the tangle of bedding he's half-trailed down to the floor with him, pushing to his feet and softly padding across the floor to the window, pressing his cheek to the smooth glass pane.
Shige daydreams a bit, under the view of the wispy clouds slowly floating by and the impossibly blue sky, before the voice of his mother calling to breakfast pulls him away.
“Shift, you.” Shige jumps a little at the brusque instruction, accompanied by the sharp poke to the back of his shoulder.
“What?” He turns, ostensibly to meet his senpai's impatient gaze, but all he manages is to fixate on the dirty blond curls on top of the other boy's head.
“I said, shift,” Nishikido Ryo repeats, his Kansai-ben further accentuating his 'I'm talking to an idiot' tone. “You're blocking my face.” And sure enough, the photographer signals for Shige to crouch lower.
Shige flushes and bends down further, privately seething at being dictated to by a virtual stranger, even if it's a jimusho senpai who is two years his senior. In between takes, he looks over longingly at Koyama and Kusano, who, though not totally enjoying themselves, at least appear more at ease.
“Oi, pay attention to the camera.” Shige jumps again, cursing his own nerves, and mumbles an apology as he forces himself to concentrate on the cues from the photographer.
When the torturous shoot is over, he hurries back to the refuge of the remaining two-thirds of K.K.Kity, sighing with relief as he sinks down next to Kusano.
“That wasn't too bad, right?” Koyama asks with a consoling note in his voice as he cranes his head around Kusano.
“I guess,” Shige replies as he sips from his water bottle, surreptitiously watching the blond-haired boy stalk back to the other end of the room, where the only table and couch is situated, and where Yamashita Tomohisa and the other Kansai Junior - Shige vaguely remembers his name is Uchi - are sitting.
“I wonder why we're all here, it's a strange combination, isn't it?” Koyama continues. He's looking at Moriuchi and Masuda, who appears a little forlorn away from the rest of Kisumai. There's also another Junior they barely know, all wary eyes and messy hair.
Shige 'hmm's in response, but he thinks he might have an inkling. He'll just rather not vocalise it yet, in case it jinxes the whole thing. It's something every boy who joins the Jimusho works for, but he's not completely sure whether he's happy with the notion, if it means he'll end up having to work closely with the likes of that Kansai tyrant. Still, he understands that chances like these are hard to come by, so he merely shrugs to himself, and waits for the inevitable.
*
There are days when the skies seem sort of overcast, somewhere between off-white and not-grey, and the oppressive heat gathers under the cloud bank, nowhere to go but to remain cloyingly upon skin and under his clothes, leaving Shige with sticky palms and a damp scalp.
Days like these, Shige wants nothing more than to sprawl on his stomach in his father's study, the air-conditioning at full blast, lazing like the nameless cat in Soseki's fascinating novel.
But the alarm on his phone beeps, and he reluctantly uncurls from his spot on the couch, preparing to go to the Jimusho for more tedious dance practices and rehearsals.
Shige trudges through the doors of the Jimusho, the barely cool air doing nothing to remove the humidity suffocating his lungs. When he drags his feet towards the dance studio and opens the door, he finds seven other faces, half of them worried and the other half annoyed, all focused upon him.
“There you are! Now that his highness has arrived, we can finally do a proper run-through!” Nishikido pushes up from where he's sitting to position himself in front of the mirror, Yamashita-kun also mechanically following him to take his own place. Uchi flashes Shige an irritated glance before standing behind Ryo.
“Hurry up!”
Everyone else springs up and scurries into formation at Ryo's bark. Still confused, Shige quickly drops his bag by the wall and moves to catch up with the rest as the music starts. Being flustered and bewildered does not help him.
“Where were you?” Koyama asks when they take a short break.
“What do you mean?” Shige tries to control his panting breaths, telling himself he's imagining the killer glares coming from the elite section of the room.
“He means you were nearly forty-five minutes late,” Kusano interjects from Shige's other side. “And Nishikido-jun was blistering our ears off about people who can't stick to schedule and end up wasting his goddamn precious time.” He slips into Kansai-ben for the last few words, imitating Nishikido's typical cheesed-off expression.
“No! I was on-- I was late?” Shige exclaims disbelievingly as he rummages through his bag for their schedule. The incriminating digits stare back at him accusingly from the piece of crumpled paper. “Oh... shit, I was late.”
The knowledge of his inexplicable carelessness plagues him throughout the rest of practice, making him stumble even more than normal, and earning twice the number of sharp-tongued barbs from Nishikido. He knows he more or less deserves it this time, and it's just his turn being unlucky today - Nishikido is impartial with his poison-tongue towards all members of the group with the exception of Uchi and Yamashita-kun - but each word still pricks deep, sinking through Shige's skin to clutch at his throat and squeeze at his heart.
It gets to a point that even Uchi seems to feel sorry for him, because at the end of practice, he whispers apologetically to Shige, “We're really on a super-packed schedule these past couple days, so he's doubly cranky.” He doesn't ask Shige to not mind, seeing as it's a little too late for that.
Uchi and Nishikido have already packed their stuff, Nishikido already striding out the studio door. Shige wishes he could have just let them go, but he's seen Nishikido's tired, irritable expression as he was leaving, and Shige's parents haven't raised him to be an individual who squirms his way past mistakes. Which is probably why, though half of him hates it and is kicking and screaming at the other half for even contemplating it, he finds himself following Uchi through the doorway, out into the corridor where Nishikido is waiting, leaning against the wall with one foot tapping impatiently.
“Ano, Nishikido-kun,” Shige blurts out before he loses his courage. “I'm sorry for being late for practice today, especially when yours and Uchi-kun's schedules are so tight. It was careless and irresponsible of me.” He straightens out from his bow to meet Nishikido's startled gaze, for once devoid of a sneer or smirk.
“...Whatever,” Shige thinks he hears Nishikido mumble, before the older boy hitches the strap on his bag higher and walks away, urging Uchi to hurry up.
Uchi winks at Shige, giving him a thumbs-up and a quick grin as he darts past, easily catching up to Nishikido.
Shige stands there, until they turn the corner and are lost from sight.
*
It starts pelting just seconds before the train pulls into the station and Shige glares at the gloomy skies from where he has paused at the entrance of the train station, debating whether to make a dash for it.
The outlines of the buildings on the opposite side of the street are blurred by the straight lines of water and the Jimusho building, three blocks down, is practically invisible.
There's just no way to win in situations like these, Shige thinks sourly to himself as he unfolds his umbrella, shaking it out. He could wait for the downpour to lessen, making himself inevitably late, or he could be on time and suffer soggy footwear for the rest of the day.
The frown line cuts deeper into Shige's forehead as he clutches his bag closer and steps out of the train station's shelter.
It has not been a good afternoon.
Rehearsal ultimately started late as some of the other members ranked their love for dry feet over their dedication to punctuality, and their choreographer, Kuroda-san, felt that better use could be made of the time remaining to practise their solos for the upcoming concert instead.
Shige reluctantly faces himself in the mirror after Kuroda-san runs through how he wants Shige to perform 'Survival'. The bass beats start and Shige feels himself hating the song already.
After the seventh time Shige messes up the steps as the song enters the chorus, Kuroda-san gives up and suggests for Shige to take a break, wandering over to Yamashita-kun, who is executing his dance flawlessly, and really doesn't need any supervision at all.
Shige slowly walks over to where he's left his bag and leans back against the wall. The tears come unbidden from one breath to the next.
He touches the moisture trickling down his cheeks, as the pressure in his chest and head grows. It becomes harder and harder to breathe, and he hysterically wonders why he can't do this when it comes to actual drama filming.
He rubs his face harshly with his towel to stop the tears but it just makes everything worse. When he looks up, it's to see, of all people, Nishikido staring at him with a frown. Before Shige knows it, his feet have carried him out of the dance studio, down the corridor and into the washroom, where he locks himself into one of the cubicles and sits down heavily on the toilet seat, trying and failing to control his heaving sobs.
Suddenly the door to the washroom opens and someone enters. The footsteps stop outside his cubicle and there's a rap on the door.
“Shige, you there?” Nishikido's voice seems abnormally loud in the silence, echoing through the room.
Shige takes a deep breath, praying for his voice to be steady before he answers. “Y-yes, must have been something I ate.” But his voice wobbles and cracks towards the end, and it just brings on a fresh wave of crying again.
Nishikido doesn't say anything for a long time, and Shige can almost imagine he's alone again if not for the fact that he hasn't heard any footsteps heading towards the door.
“Did you really think things would always happen the way you expect it to?”
Shige's head jerks up in surprise.
There's a soft thud as Nishikido leans against the cubicle door and unconsciously, Shige stands up, drawing closer.
“You signed up for this, and you've come this far. If it's been peaches and cream all this time, then you were just damn lucky. In this industry, we do the things we hate, so that we get to do what we love.”
The words resound in Shige's mind as his fingers dig crescents into his palms. He leans his forehead against the hard vinyl of the cubicle door, his jagged breathing gradually evening out.
In the resulting quiet, the only thing Shige hears is the hollow patter of raindrops against the washroom's tiny window, and then Nishikido softly saying, “Don't lose to yourself.”
Shige closes his eyes and unlocks the door.
end part 1
A/N: any comments are always greatly loved and appreciated. happy new year! ^__^
part 2