#37: Fic: Steering Mechanism
Title: Steering Mechanism
Fandom: Arashi
Rating: PG
Summary: (a) to (k). Nino tries to work it out.
Notes: Placed second in the shoneenclub June contest; originally posted here.
(a)
It ends like this: Nino sees her crossing the street, hand in hand with someone else, and decides, for the last time, that he's going to give up.
It is by no means a simple choice, even though it should be. He needs to stop, he needs to wait. He needs to let it pass.
You're wonderful, she tells him sometimes. The last time she says that is when they are having udon at that tiny noodle place he used to frequent when he was still a teenager. Just patronising it now requires a recce from his staff and enough money to reserve at least half the seats, but it's worth the trouble just to have her sitting across from him, brow slightly furrowed as she examines the menu. After the meal she sends him a thank-you mail that he scrutinises far more closely than he would like to admit.
This is practical criticism despite himself; reader response - an endless barrage of perhaps she means this, or maybe nots that Nino cannot help but dwell on. He spends the moments before he falls asleep thinking about these words, composing a reply, the glowing rectangle of his cellphone screen harsh and glaring in the darkness of his bedroom. He has far too little time to worry about anything but the next day's schedule, but he finds that when it comes to her, he's around, always around; lonely and beaten and tired but still there - phone under pillow, heart in mouth, heart in hand outstretched.
And so it ends, like he knows these things will. With her crossing the street, with her hand in hand with someone else.
(You're too wonderful, she says, and what she means is I'm sorry, he thinks, or maybe - you're too much for me, too bright, or - and he's still picking apart her words even though he knows that he's got to give up.)
It should be a simple choice. It's not a simple choice.
(a), revised.
Nino is not entitled to this heartache.
It's his fault, after all, for deciding that this was love.
(b)
Nino works. He buries himself in it; comes to relish the long, tiring days of endless location shoots and programme recordings. It's a steady routine: get into the car, get out of the car; the crane's coming (please wait while we set up) - let's do this scene and get a close-up here. He goes for concert rehearsals when his schedule allows it, and steps in line and learns his dance moves like they are the only things that keep him in place. He catches sight of his reflection in the glass and doesn't care who he sees.
None of the others mention it, not because they don't know or they don't care, but because Nino doesn't want them to. They let Nino make halfway-witty one-liners about how it wouldn't have worked out anyway and try their best not to send him any looks of concern. Aiba takes him drinking, though, and Matsujun gets him one of those expensive neck pillows with added support and softness for the long car rides to his filming locations. Ohno lets Nino throw make-believe punches at him and leaves packets of apricot Hi-chew in Nino's bag.
"These give me phlegm," Nino tells him.
"Would you rather have grape flavour, then?" Ohno asks kindly.
At the end of each day Nino returns home in the wee hours of the morning, battered and aching and looking forward to a few hours of rest. He falls asleep almost immediately after his shower, his hair slightly damp and his feet deliciously cool under the warm sheets. When he wakes up in the morning there are a few heady moments in which he can remember what it is like to not harbour hurt in some way. Fifteen minutes later, he's out of the house again.
(c)
"I'm fine," says Nino, not because he is, but because it's been a month and a half and enough time has passed for him to think that he might be.
"I'm glad," Ohno replies.
(c) erratum
"You're not fine," says Sho over the phone. He's calling from London during a dinner break in the middle of filming a News Zero report; Nino has just changed into his nightshirt and is getting into bed.
A part of him wonders vaguely how Sho can know this, but he's too sleepy to actually ask.
"I'm going to fall asleep," Nino tells Sho instead.
"Okay," Sho replies. He doesn't hang up.
(d)
The next night Sho calls at the same time. Nino says he'll drift off soon but Sho waits until he does.
"I don't think these count as actual conversations," says Nino on the third night, stifling a yawn. "You're wasting money on these phone calls."
"Would you rather hear about the amazing gyoza they're serving at the dinner buffet?" asks Sho.
"Tell me," says Nino. "Is it better than any gyoza in Japan?"
"Yes."
"Better than Aiba's dad's gyoza?"
"...possibly," says Sho. "But don't tell him I said that."
(e)
It takes just one mail for him to realise that maybe he wasn't so fine after all.
All she does is ask him how he's been doing; if he's been busy. He would like to hate her but can't find a valid reason to do so because she doesn't know.
He's trained himself to look away, to dwell on other things. He thinks he's trained himself to forget. He's mostly succeeded, but all he is left with is a undefined ache in his chest, the source of which he has forced himself not to remember.
(e), revised
Nino doesn't want to be a footnote in someone else's romance. He's never seen himself as a supporting character.
(f)
Sho returns; Nino finds him in the green room giving out souvenirs before they start filming for that week's Shiyagare. Everyone else gets little ceramic telephone booths or small replicas of buses (or in Aiba's case, a shiny red letterbox). Nino gets a tiny soldier figurine, complete with red coat and tall furry hat.
"I wanted a bus," he tells Sho flippantly. "You're getting me a bus the next time."
"Okay," says Sho.
Nino stands the soldier on his bedside table that night. It stares at him glossily from beside the alarm clock; arms at attention, rifle in hand.
(g)
"You're still acting strange," Sho tells him over the phone.
"Don't you have to sleep, too?"
Sho yawns. "Yes."
"Good work today," says Nino.
"You too."
They don't speak, but neither of them hangs up.
(h)
If he manages to steal his way through this, he will level up.
All he needs to do is finish the quest. If he had an Invisibility Potion in his inventory that would be best, but he doesn't, so his only option is to bide his time.
Some important facts:
- He cannot just ride round and finish the quest.
- He is Unfriendly with the nearby factions (7500) so he cannot interact with them.
- He has to follow the spirit guide.
- IT IS IMPORTANT TO FOLLOW THE WOLF.
"What are you talking about?" Sho demands.
Nino opens his eyes. He still has his phone pressed to his ear. "I dropped off for a moment," he murmurs.
"Me too, until you started talking about ancestral spirit wolves."
"I just need to finish the quest," says Nino, remembering his dream.
"What?"
"Nothing. I haven't gamed properly in a while."
(h) addendum
He might not be able to steal past the opposite faction, so it's worth bringing along a buddy.
(i)
It doesn't become a ritual. Or rather, neither of them thinks of it as such. Sho just calls Nino on nights when he can. Nino just answers.
They don't talk much. As Sho becomes busier again Nino increasingly finds himself the one who has to hang up when Sho falls asleep. They can't possibly be on the phone for all that long because they drop off almost immediately, but it's enough.
Sho doesn't mention it when they meet, and neither does Nino. They look out for each other though; always have.
(j)
"Hi, I haven't heard from you for ages. I hope you're okay? I know you're busy so I'm just leaving you a voice message, but if you hear this in time, we're having a class reunion on-"
Sorry, can't make it. (^^);; Again.
She sends him a reply in which one emoji cheerfully punches another.
(k)
"So how is it, with that girl?" Aiba asks, one evening. Someone kicks him under the table, judging by the look of pain that crosses his face almost immediately after.
Nino thinks back to two months ago and remembers his solitary heartache, by now a faint shadow of an imprint. He knows he started out thinking that one day he'd get used to it. He knows now that it is a myth. What is true, on the other hand, is that he can wait it out; wait out the continuous crest-to-trough of waves on shallow water. They break, he erodes; he carries on.
"I suppose I was bored," Nino replies, shrugging. "It didn't work out."
(k), revised
What Nino means is that he's all right.
Sho claps him on the back and pours him another beer. It's a little bit like levelling up.
Fandom: Arashi
Rating: PG
Summary: (a) to (k). Nino tries to work it out.
Notes: Placed second in the shoneenclub June contest; originally posted here.
(a)
It ends like this: Nino sees her crossing the street, hand in hand with someone else, and decides, for the last time, that he's going to give up.
It is by no means a simple choice, even though it should be. He needs to stop, he needs to wait. He needs to let it pass.
You're wonderful, she tells him sometimes. The last time she says that is when they are having udon at that tiny noodle place he used to frequent when he was still a teenager. Just patronising it now requires a recce from his staff and enough money to reserve at least half the seats, but it's worth the trouble just to have her sitting across from him, brow slightly furrowed as she examines the menu. After the meal she sends him a thank-you mail that he scrutinises far more closely than he would like to admit.
This is practical criticism despite himself; reader response - an endless barrage of perhaps she means this, or maybe nots that Nino cannot help but dwell on. He spends the moments before he falls asleep thinking about these words, composing a reply, the glowing rectangle of his cellphone screen harsh and glaring in the darkness of his bedroom. He has far too little time to worry about anything but the next day's schedule, but he finds that when it comes to her, he's around, always around; lonely and beaten and tired but still there - phone under pillow, heart in mouth, heart in hand outstretched.
And so it ends, like he knows these things will. With her crossing the street, with her hand in hand with someone else.
(You're too wonderful, she says, and what she means is I'm sorry, he thinks, or maybe - you're too much for me, too bright, or - and he's still picking apart her words even though he knows that he's got to give up.)
It should be a simple choice. It's not a simple choice.
(a), revised.
Nino is not entitled to this heartache.
It's his fault, after all, for deciding that this was love.
(b)
Nino works. He buries himself in it; comes to relish the long, tiring days of endless location shoots and programme recordings. It's a steady routine: get into the car, get out of the car; the crane's coming (please wait while we set up) - let's do this scene and get a close-up here. He goes for concert rehearsals when his schedule allows it, and steps in line and learns his dance moves like they are the only things that keep him in place. He catches sight of his reflection in the glass and doesn't care who he sees.
None of the others mention it, not because they don't know or they don't care, but because Nino doesn't want them to. They let Nino make halfway-witty one-liners about how it wouldn't have worked out anyway and try their best not to send him any looks of concern. Aiba takes him drinking, though, and Matsujun gets him one of those expensive neck pillows with added support and softness for the long car rides to his filming locations. Ohno lets Nino throw make-believe punches at him and leaves packets of apricot Hi-chew in Nino's bag.
"These give me phlegm," Nino tells him.
"Would you rather have grape flavour, then?" Ohno asks kindly.
At the end of each day Nino returns home in the wee hours of the morning, battered and aching and looking forward to a few hours of rest. He falls asleep almost immediately after his shower, his hair slightly damp and his feet deliciously cool under the warm sheets. When he wakes up in the morning there are a few heady moments in which he can remember what it is like to not harbour hurt in some way. Fifteen minutes later, he's out of the house again.
(c)
"I'm fine," says Nino, not because he is, but because it's been a month and a half and enough time has passed for him to think that he might be.
"I'm glad," Ohno replies.
(c) erratum
"You're not fine," says Sho over the phone. He's calling from London during a dinner break in the middle of filming a News Zero report; Nino has just changed into his nightshirt and is getting into bed.
A part of him wonders vaguely how Sho can know this, but he's too sleepy to actually ask.
"I'm going to fall asleep," Nino tells Sho instead.
"Okay," Sho replies. He doesn't hang up.
(d)
The next night Sho calls at the same time. Nino says he'll drift off soon but Sho waits until he does.
"I don't think these count as actual conversations," says Nino on the third night, stifling a yawn. "You're wasting money on these phone calls."
"Would you rather hear about the amazing gyoza they're serving at the dinner buffet?" asks Sho.
"Tell me," says Nino. "Is it better than any gyoza in Japan?"
"Yes."
"Better than Aiba's dad's gyoza?"
"...possibly," says Sho. "But don't tell him I said that."
(e)
It takes just one mail for him to realise that maybe he wasn't so fine after all.
All she does is ask him how he's been doing; if he's been busy. He would like to hate her but can't find a valid reason to do so because she doesn't know.
He's trained himself to look away, to dwell on other things. He thinks he's trained himself to forget. He's mostly succeeded, but all he is left with is a undefined ache in his chest, the source of which he has forced himself not to remember.
(e), revised
Nino doesn't want to be a footnote in someone else's romance. He's never seen himself as a supporting character.
(f)
Sho returns; Nino finds him in the green room giving out souvenirs before they start filming for that week's Shiyagare. Everyone else gets little ceramic telephone booths or small replicas of buses (or in Aiba's case, a shiny red letterbox). Nino gets a tiny soldier figurine, complete with red coat and tall furry hat.
"I wanted a bus," he tells Sho flippantly. "You're getting me a bus the next time."
"Okay," says Sho.
Nino stands the soldier on his bedside table that night. It stares at him glossily from beside the alarm clock; arms at attention, rifle in hand.
(g)
"You're still acting strange," Sho tells him over the phone.
"Don't you have to sleep, too?"
Sho yawns. "Yes."
"Good work today," says Nino.
"You too."
They don't speak, but neither of them hangs up.
(h)
If he manages to steal his way through this, he will level up.
All he needs to do is finish the quest. If he had an Invisibility Potion in his inventory that would be best, but he doesn't, so his only option is to bide his time.
Some important facts:
- He cannot just ride round and finish the quest.
- He is Unfriendly with the nearby factions (7500) so he cannot interact with them.
- He has to follow the spirit guide.
- IT IS IMPORTANT TO FOLLOW THE WOLF.
"What are you talking about?" Sho demands.
Nino opens his eyes. He still has his phone pressed to his ear. "I dropped off for a moment," he murmurs.
"Me too, until you started talking about ancestral spirit wolves."
"I just need to finish the quest," says Nino, remembering his dream.
"What?"
"Nothing. I haven't gamed properly in a while."
(h) addendum
He might not be able to steal past the opposite faction, so it's worth bringing along a buddy.
(i)
It doesn't become a ritual. Or rather, neither of them thinks of it as such. Sho just calls Nino on nights when he can. Nino just answers.
They don't talk much. As Sho becomes busier again Nino increasingly finds himself the one who has to hang up when Sho falls asleep. They can't possibly be on the phone for all that long because they drop off almost immediately, but it's enough.
Sho doesn't mention it when they meet, and neither does Nino. They look out for each other though; always have.
(j)
"Hi, I haven't heard from you for ages. I hope you're okay? I know you're busy so I'm just leaving you a voice message, but if you hear this in time, we're having a class reunion on-"
Sorry, can't make it. (^^);; Again.
She sends him a reply in which one emoji cheerfully punches another.
(k)
"So how is it, with that girl?" Aiba asks, one evening. Someone kicks him under the table, judging by the look of pain that crosses his face almost immediately after.
Nino thinks back to two months ago and remembers his solitary heartache, by now a faint shadow of an imprint. He knows he started out thinking that one day he'd get used to it. He knows now that it is a myth. What is true, on the other hand, is that he can wait it out; wait out the continuous crest-to-trough of waves on shallow water. They break, he erodes; he carries on.
"I suppose I was bored," Nino replies, shrugging. "It didn't work out."
(k), revised
What Nino means is that he's all right.
Sho claps him on the back and pours him another beer. It's a little bit like levelling up.