[06/20] Gravity
Gravity
April to August 2012
Previously
Chapter Five: The Distractions of Kanji and Fake Eyelashes
Vega bowed as Sakurai stepped into the elevator. As Sakurai bowed at her father one last time, and as his eyes landed on hers, he thought she looked exactly as he felt. Relieved.
A/N
[12 May 2012] I finished a book today - it’s called The Third Lady by Natsuki Shizuko, originally published in Japan in 1978 by Shueisha. I bought it at a second-hand bookstore about a month ago because the front page said it ‘recalls Strangers on a Train’, one of the Japanese stage versions of which Ninomiya Kazunari acted in. The Third Lady is about a professor named Daigo, who meets a mysterious woman in France, and unwittingly makes a deal with her to exchange murders - that is, they kill each other’s enemies. Eventually the man Daigo wants dead dies. What does Daigo choose to do? Honestly, his decision is very entertaining - and so is the way he thinks.
But anyway, I wanted to thank everyone who reads this story - especially those who comment on it! [As I don’t think anyone wanders here to read without commenting, haha.] This chapter marks the official end of the ‘Getting to Know You’ phase, and I like to think everything will be plenty interesting hereon. Thanks so much, once more, and please, please, please enjoy this! ::D
Disclaimer
The mastermind behind this plot derives no material profit from it. While several people, places, and events exist in reality, everything that follows should be digested with a healthy dose of suspicion.
Warning
I cannot write bromance or erotica to save my life.
All conversations in this chapter are assumed to be in Japanese.
The Independence Day of the Philippines is on June 12.
The Japanese Golden Week is a - ha! - week with a lot of national holidays scheduled in succession.
Lumpia is basically the Filipino version of spring rolls.
Adobo is a meat-based dish - often pork or chicken - best described as mysterious dark lumps swimming in a garnished abundance of soy sauce.
Words 1,670
Gravity
For Arashi
Chapter Six
The Way to a Man’s Heart is Via His Taste Buds
3 June 2012
It was Sunday, but for some reason, Ashley Vega was camping out in the restaurant the Dimaano first-generation were tasked to maintain. A party of five was grouped messily around the mid-level kitchen, throwing random pieces of food together for their customized version of the annual celebration of the Philippine Independence Day. Karina, France Dimaano’s insatiably loquacious and unbelievably sweet six-year-old, was dutiful entertaining her grandparents as the two puttered around the stoves, the pots and pans they supervised steaming. Ashley silently relegated herself to a corner table, kneading ground pork and vegetables together with enough determination to reduce solids into mush. Even with her concentration, however, Ashley felt the question in her friend France’s gaze as the latter approached, nervously.
Instantly, almost defensively, Ashley glared up from her cooking. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
France calmly placed her bowl of starched water between them. “Don’t take this the wrong way, okay? But isn’t the Embassy Independence Day Parade today?” She motioned to herself and her family, blinking innocently. “Obviously, we can’t attend, but you - um - might have a personal responsibility to - uh - make an appearance? Perhaps?”
Ashley scoffed, returning to her massacre. “I was highly encouraged not to go.”
“Your father told you this?” France literally bit her tongue.
“No.” She had lost all control of her hand, her murderous fingers seeking revenge on the innocent meat. “His secretary did. Can you believe that? His secretary finds my presence unnecessary in arguably the most important Embassy event of the year?” She grinned, eyes disappearing into slits. “Can you believe that?”
“But your father-?”
“Probably doesn’t know.” Ashley shrugged, throwing little balls of meat on lengthy strips of frying paper. “But I doubt he’d do anything even if he found out.”
France merely continued standing with a hand on her hip, her apron miraculously clean even after more than an hour of kitchen work. “If it’s any help, I have a surprise that might make you just the teensiest bit happier?”
Ashley paused from her concentration, looking up and smiling a bit more gently. “Yeah? What’s that?”
“The Almighty Jun Matsumoto is paying us a visit today.” France leaned close, dipping a finger into Ashley’s plate and sampling it. “I told him it’s a week to a major Philippine holiday - something like the Filipino version of Golden Week - and he said he wanted to help celebrate.”
Ashley felt her jaw drop in indignation. “B-but the store-!”
“Pfssh! We can have it to ourselves for one day.” She lifted and wagged a finger to preempt Ashley, who was horrified to see that one of the gems on her friend’s lacquered nails had disappeared. Had it fallen into her unsuspecting lumpia mix? “He’s bringing some friends along. Or, no- I think it’s just Ikuta-san who’s coming-”
“Toma freakin’ Ikuta?!”
“Yes, Toma Ikuta.” France rolled her eyes - the veteran showbiz insider - and patted Ashley’s shoulder with the same hand she had used to messily muddle her way through today’s carefully prepared food. “So do your best, okay? I’m sure you want to make a good impression.”
Ashley narrowed her mascara-less eyes ever slowly, squinting at France through her unwashed, barely brushed Sunday hair. “You thought it necessary to tell me this just now?”
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Sho Sakurai blinked at Ashley Vega, who had been watching him irritably since the moment he had stepped into Shihoin, the restaurant the Dimaano family managed. There was something even odder about her today, and it was not just the absence of her usual facial palette. He shot a fake frown at his makeup assistant as she set a plate between him and Jun Matsumoto. “Are you angry at me or something?”
Vega, holding the thick, dark tray to her chest, frowned at him and unabashedly replied, “I was expecting Ikuta-san, not you. Frankly, I’m disappointed-”
“Hey! Is that the way to speak to your employer?!” He pointed his chopsticks at her - which was rude - but she had started everything! “This is the first time we’ve met outside work, you know. I expect you to be more polite than this-!”
“If I’m mean to you at work, what makes you think I’ll be polite outside of it?”
“We really were expecting Ikuta-san, though,” France Dimaano suddenly added, placing yet another dish between her guests. “Not that we don’t want you here, Sho-san, but-”
Sakurai exclaimed, “She certainly doesn’t want me here!” To which Vega only replied by pulling a face at him.
“-we’re not mentally prepared to have two Arashi members in this restaurant, you understand?” She sought Matsumoto’s eyes and begged an adequate explanation. “You understand, MachoJun?”
Matsumoto swallowed before he deigned to answer. “He had something to attend to.” A traditional Kyoto theater actress he was wooing on his days off. “There was no other time for it.” And certainly, with Ikuta’s popularity, there would be no future for them, too. “I’m sorry, but maybe next time I can bring him here with me. This food’s really good, you know!”
“It is,” Sakurai agreed obtusely, muttering to himself. The spring rolls he was coursing through were slightly different from the others he had met so far, but far more appetizing. Was there butter in that? He had the sudden urge to ask what the name of this concoction was when he caught the smitten look on Ashley Vega’s face. Her face was flushed and shining, her eyes targeted at a point very close to Matsumoto’s moving right hand. To her, Sakurai abruptly realized, there was only Jun Matsumoto’s smile. There was only Jun Matsumoto’s congeniality. There was only Jun Matsumoto’s intestine. The ingratitude of it all was almost sickening.
“Of course, Matsumoto-san,” he barely heard her breathless reply. “Please don’t concern yourself with me.” To which Matsumoto, with his warm, trusting nature, only answered, “Thank you for having us today.”
Before he knew it, Sakurai was nodding his gratitude as well, smiling the whole time only at Dimaano, who seemed remarkably alarmed at the look on his face. Taking a quick sip of water, he was cheerfully poking at the mysterious brown lumps swimming in an abundance of garnished soy sauce before him, when he inevitably found himself thinking back on the conversation he and Vega had had all those weeks ago. Had they not crossed bridges that day? Had he not changed her opinion since then of his relationship with Matsumoto?
After all, he was here, wasn’t he? He was sitting around a cramped, tiny table across the man a considerable number of Arashi fans believed he was not on good terms with. He had been thinking almost chronically about what she had said for almost two weeks, and the end result had been this. He had plucked up the courage to invite Matsumoto to hang out alone, Matsumoto had said he had been planning to eat at France Dimaano’s parents’ restaurant, and as luck would have it, Dimaano would be hanging out with a certain Ashley Vega on this particular Sunday!
Perfect, Sakurai fumed to himself as Matsumoto pleasantly began a conversation on the other side of the table. Perfect! And if she dare started to think he was doing this for her- He was doing this for Matsumoto, who deserved more than unrequited admiration from him! He was doing this for himself, for closure or peace of mind or whatever it was he running after these days!
Damn it! Sakurai raged as he smiled at Matsumoto, not hearing a word of what his band mate had said. Before long she would realized she was in his head, that he had barely any control over it, and that discovery would only complicate things - complicate things more than his agency could handle-
She wasn’t even Japanese!
Just then, Matsumoto worriedly met his unfocused gaze and asked, “Sho-san? Is something wrong?”
Sakurai, realizing an answer was expected of him, snapped out of his reverie and chuckled nervously. “No, no! It’s just-” His gaze fell instantly, and landed on the innocuous plate of spring rolls before him. He pointed at it, eyes glazed. “I’m trying to figure out exactly how to describe this dish. It’s very good, but I can’t quite point out what I like about it.”
“The lumpia?” Dimaano prompted, easing into her seat beside Matsumoto. “Oh, Ashley cooked that.”
Sakurai gulped as he felt a presence descend into the space beside him. Turning his face left, he witnessed Ashley Vega pull a mask of supreme and unshakeable self-confidence.
Damn it.
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Chapter Six End.
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A/N
The MachoJun nickname is a direct rip-off from the AniShi episode feat. Yashima Norito. Remember that? The Lakeshore Murder Mystery with Sho playing a transvestite and the Chief Detective being branded the killer? But anyway-
I had promised myself, about two days ago, that if I should finish this chapter before Sunday, I’d up my game and increase my postings to twice a week. So one chapter - or two, depending on how boring the first chapter is, ha - on Wednesday, and another on Sunday. I’m really nervous about maintaining this pace, but I really do think this is the best course of action. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, as I’ve only ever written one other fanfic that went beyond ten chapters. That was a complete failure, partly due to the fact that there were large gaps between the irrational posting schedule. So, basically, to ease the transitions between the chapters - aka to make sure the people who are kind enough to read this virtual mind-fart don’t get lost in the complicated plot - I’ve decided to go sleepless. Two chapters a week!!!
Thank you for reading this! I didn’t mean to rant, but I’ve discovered I type faster sloshed. ::( I’ll do my best to have this done by June! If all goes well, I can have everything out by June. Thanks so much!!! ::D
Edit: Dropped Series.
Gravity End.