#41: Fic: The First League Out From Land
Title: The First League Out From Land
Fandom: Arashi (Inception crossover)
Summary: AU/Inception crossover. Ohno doesn’t come out of hiding because Nino asks him to. It’s not as simple as that.
Notes: Contains spoilers for the movie. darong requested spy!Arashi but last night all roads appeared to lead to Inception, so she can have this instead. Thank you forochel for the look through. ETA: Has been expanded into Setting Sail.
Ohno doesn’t come out of hiding because Nino asks him to. It’s not as simple as that.
Nino comes to him the only way Nino will - in a dream. Ohno knows it’s a dream because he’s seen this landscape before: a mazelike city of light and glowing letters; Nino’s city, built from a combination of memory and imagination.
“You’ve found me, then,” says Ohno, when Nino finally appears.
“It wasn’t easy,” Nino replies. “Especially after you started fishing in the South China Sea.”
It’s a dream. The thought hits Ohno like ice, even though he already knows this for a fact on some level. Almost immediately, the intersection they are standing at becomes less steady, the ground below his feet beginning to take on the familiar rocking motion of the boat they must actually be on.
“My boat-” Ohno begins.
“Honestly, the lengths I go to,” says Nino, shaking his head. He is beginning to look a little seasick.
“You could just save yourself the trouble and ask me straight out,” Ohno offers.
Nino rolls his eyes. “And have you say ‘no’?”
A woman passing by gives them a stare more pointed than the last.
“You know I don’t do this any more,” Ohno says.
“Please don’t say no,” Nino tells him hurriedly, truthfully. “I need you for this one.” He has always been all about the sleight-of-hand, the switches and changes and clever manipulation, but with Ohno he’s always approached something halfway like honesty.
Apart from the last time.
“You know what my answer will be,” Ohno says.
“It won’t be like Ayase,” says Nino. “You know it won’t.”
“But I don’t, Kazu-chan,” Ohno replies. “And that’s entirely the problem.”
The projections are starting to take notice of them, now; a couple of them approaching with distinctly malevolent expressions. The thing about Nino-city, Ohno has come to realise over the handful of times they have shared this dreamscape, is that the brain tends to fill it with a lot of people.
“Just say yes,” Nino tells him, invoking the same words he had used when they were just two boys, two curious boys getting tangled up in an art that would become both their weapon and their curse.
Ohno’s experienced this dozens of times before, but nothing will take away the choking fear of having scores of projections close in around him, previously benign faces now filled with wary hatred. They’re coming nearer and nearer, and one of them is holding some sort of screwdriver that he’s very certainly going to stab Nino with because these are Ohno’s projections-
“Just say yes,” Nino repeats urgently. “Satoshi.”
“No,” says Ohno.
He wakes up.
“Urashima Tarou,” says Jun.
They are on Ohno’s boat. Nino is still crouched by his chair, doubled over in a mixture of seasickness and the plain shock of being stabbed in a dream.
“Jun-kun,” Ohno murmurs. “It’s been a while.”
Jun is still holding his pocket watch the same way he used to do. It was a particular quirk of his that Ohno had always found amusing.
“Urashima Tarou,” Jun repeats. “I’m sure you know the rest of the story.”
“I might,” says Ohno.
“Tell it to him, anyway,” says Nino.
“Just stick to throwing up, will you?” Jun snaps.
Nino responds by vomiting rather demonstratively into a nearby bucket.
“Urashima Tarou is a talented fisherman, who one day rescues a turtle from some children who are torturing it. The turtle turns out to be the daughter of the Emperor of the Sea, who wants to see him and thank him,” says Jun. “So he journeys down to the palace at the bottom of the sea and meets the beautiful princess Otohime.”
“And he remains there for three entire days, mesmerised by his surroundings,” Ohno says.
“By the time he thinks to return, three hundred years have passed,” Jun finishes.
“I know this story,” says Ohno. “Why are you telling it to me?”
“I’m telling you,” Jun replies, “because I want you to take out your box.”
“I’m not supposed to open it,” Ohno says.
“I’m not asking you to open it,” Jun tells him. “Just take it out.”
“I can’t,” says Ohno, instinctively, and for a moment he’s not sure why.
Jun glances sharply at him. “Why not?”
“I don’t want to,” Ohno tells him, simply. “I don’t need a box.”
“Take it out,” says Jun. “Just take it out.”
“Jun-kun.”
“Take it out.”
Ohno reaches into the pocket of his coat for the paper tamatebako, expecting a cube formed of six identical modules tucked together. What he gets is a handful of paper pinwheels unfurled together in an impossible cluster.
“No,” says Ohno.
He wakes up.
“This is how good we’ve become, Oh-chan,” says Aiba, beaming down at him.
On his left and right, Nino and Jun are sitting up from their deep slumber, pulling away the tubing from their skin and standing up to stretch and pace away the sleep.
Ohno reaches into his pocket again and touches a closed cube.
They are in what used to be their workshop and base of operations - the second floor of Aiba’s parent’s restaurant. How they’ve managed to transport Ohno here is partially explained by the rather inconvenient bruise he is now sporting on the back of his head.
“Clever,” Ohno murmurs, glancing around.
“Glad you think so,” says Aiba excitedly. “That boat felt real, didn’t it?”
“Horribly so,” says Nino, still looking rather green. “As it should have been.”
“We’re not playing at the same level as two years ago, Satoshi-kun,” Jun tells Ohno seriously. “We’re at the top of the game, and we don’t make mistakes.”
“So all of that was to convince me?” Ohno asks.
“All of that,” says Nino, nodding. “Yes.”
“Again,” says Ohno reasonably, “you could have just asked straight out.”
“You would have said no,” Nino replies.
Ohno smiles and shrugs. “My answer hasn’t changed.”
He puts his hand back into his coat pocket and pulls out the tamatebako. Quickly, deftly, he unfolds one of the faces.
“My question, on the other hand, has,” Ohno continues, moving to unfold the next face.
“Don’t,” Jun snaps, before he can stop himself.
Ohno pulls open the second pinwheel. The cube holds.
He turns to them. “Why would you go to so much trouble?”
“We needed to make certain that you would say yes,” Nino tells him.
Ohno looks at their faces, all serious and expectant, and back down at his tamatebako, eerily maintaining its shape despite more than one face being open.
“No,” says Ohno.
He wakes up.
“Three levels,” someone is saying. “These guys are nutjobs.”
It’s Mao, this time, and she’s seen to it that all of them have been sent sprawling out of their chairs and onto the floor.
“How did you know?” Nino demands. “You weren’t supposed to figure it out so quickly.”
“Mao-chan got the smell wrong,” says Jun accusingly.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” says Mao indignantly. “The smell?”
“He has spent a lot of time in this workshop,” Aiba supplies. “And, he’s Oh-chan, after all. If anyone would know, it would be Oh-chan.”
They are back in the workshop again - the real one this time, Ohno knows, without having to check - Nino may be reckless but he wouldn’t be foolhardy enough to try four levels. Not yet, at least.
“Kazu-chan,” says Ohno seriously. “Exactly what point are you trying to prove?”
“You can’t refuse us,” Nino says. “You no longer have any grounds to. Those three levels were near perfect and you know it.”
“Yes, they were,” Ohno agrees, “but you haven’t given me any grounds on which to accept your offer, either.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asks Jun.
“You haven’t actually told me what sort of job you’re thinking of doing,” says Ohno.
“Is that a yes, then?” asks Nino.
“Not until you tell me,” says Ohno. “Why haven’t you?”
“Because you weren’t asking the right question,” Nino replies.
“And what would that be?” Ohno asks, but the moment the words leave his mouth he finds that he knows the answer.
He looks around the workshop - Mao, hovering uncertainly over the briefcase; Aiba fiddling with the ship-maze model Ohno had constructed years ago. Jun standing slightly behind Nino, looking stricken.
Sho isn’t there.
“That can’t be true.”
“It is,” Nino says.
“How?”
“We made a mistake,” Jun tells him. “Our biggest-”
“And our last,” Nino interrupts.
Aiba nods. “We’re going to get him back.”
“You could really have just asked me straight out,” says Ohno, after a long pause. “But I figured it’s not really our style.”
“Do I know what your answer is, now?” asks Nino, and there’s that desperation again, that wild look like panic that Ohno’s only seen twice before: at the end of the line, with no kick forthcoming and the knowledge that they’re in too deep. Then again, Nino’s always managed to manoeuvre his way out, to land on his feet.
“Yes,” says Ohno, for the first time in two years. “Yes.”
End
---------
This is a Tamatebako.
Fandom: Arashi (Inception crossover)
Summary: AU/Inception crossover. Ohno doesn’t come out of hiding because Nino asks him to. It’s not as simple as that.
Notes: Contains spoilers for the movie. darong requested spy!Arashi but last night all roads appeared to lead to Inception, so she can have this instead. Thank you forochel for the look through. ETA: Has been expanded into Setting Sail.
Ohno doesn’t come out of hiding because Nino asks him to. It’s not as simple as that.
Nino comes to him the only way Nino will - in a dream. Ohno knows it’s a dream because he’s seen this landscape before: a mazelike city of light and glowing letters; Nino’s city, built from a combination of memory and imagination.
“You’ve found me, then,” says Ohno, when Nino finally appears.
“It wasn’t easy,” Nino replies. “Especially after you started fishing in the South China Sea.”
It’s a dream. The thought hits Ohno like ice, even though he already knows this for a fact on some level. Almost immediately, the intersection they are standing at becomes less steady, the ground below his feet beginning to take on the familiar rocking motion of the boat they must actually be on.
“My boat-” Ohno begins.
“Honestly, the lengths I go to,” says Nino, shaking his head. He is beginning to look a little seasick.
“You could just save yourself the trouble and ask me straight out,” Ohno offers.
Nino rolls his eyes. “And have you say ‘no’?”
A woman passing by gives them a stare more pointed than the last.
“You know I don’t do this any more,” Ohno says.
“Please don’t say no,” Nino tells him hurriedly, truthfully. “I need you for this one.” He has always been all about the sleight-of-hand, the switches and changes and clever manipulation, but with Ohno he’s always approached something halfway like honesty.
Apart from the last time.
“You know what my answer will be,” Ohno says.
“It won’t be like Ayase,” says Nino. “You know it won’t.”
“But I don’t, Kazu-chan,” Ohno replies. “And that’s entirely the problem.”
The projections are starting to take notice of them, now; a couple of them approaching with distinctly malevolent expressions. The thing about Nino-city, Ohno has come to realise over the handful of times they have shared this dreamscape, is that the brain tends to fill it with a lot of people.
“Just say yes,” Nino tells him, invoking the same words he had used when they were just two boys, two curious boys getting tangled up in an art that would become both their weapon and their curse.
Ohno’s experienced this dozens of times before, but nothing will take away the choking fear of having scores of projections close in around him, previously benign faces now filled with wary hatred. They’re coming nearer and nearer, and one of them is holding some sort of screwdriver that he’s very certainly going to stab Nino with because these are Ohno’s projections-
“Just say yes,” Nino repeats urgently. “Satoshi.”
“No,” says Ohno.
He wakes up.
“Urashima Tarou,” says Jun.
They are on Ohno’s boat. Nino is still crouched by his chair, doubled over in a mixture of seasickness and the plain shock of being stabbed in a dream.
“Jun-kun,” Ohno murmurs. “It’s been a while.”
Jun is still holding his pocket watch the same way he used to do. It was a particular quirk of his that Ohno had always found amusing.
“Urashima Tarou,” Jun repeats. “I’m sure you know the rest of the story.”
“I might,” says Ohno.
“Tell it to him, anyway,” says Nino.
“Just stick to throwing up, will you?” Jun snaps.
Nino responds by vomiting rather demonstratively into a nearby bucket.
“Urashima Tarou is a talented fisherman, who one day rescues a turtle from some children who are torturing it. The turtle turns out to be the daughter of the Emperor of the Sea, who wants to see him and thank him,” says Jun. “So he journeys down to the palace at the bottom of the sea and meets the beautiful princess Otohime.”
“And he remains there for three entire days, mesmerised by his surroundings,” Ohno says.
“By the time he thinks to return, three hundred years have passed,” Jun finishes.
“I know this story,” says Ohno. “Why are you telling it to me?”
“I’m telling you,” Jun replies, “because I want you to take out your box.”
“I’m not supposed to open it,” Ohno says.
“I’m not asking you to open it,” Jun tells him. “Just take it out.”
“I can’t,” says Ohno, instinctively, and for a moment he’s not sure why.
Jun glances sharply at him. “Why not?”
“I don’t want to,” Ohno tells him, simply. “I don’t need a box.”
“Take it out,” says Jun. “Just take it out.”
“Jun-kun.”
“Take it out.”
Ohno reaches into the pocket of his coat for the paper tamatebako, expecting a cube formed of six identical modules tucked together. What he gets is a handful of paper pinwheels unfurled together in an impossible cluster.
“No,” says Ohno.
He wakes up.
“This is how good we’ve become, Oh-chan,” says Aiba, beaming down at him.
On his left and right, Nino and Jun are sitting up from their deep slumber, pulling away the tubing from their skin and standing up to stretch and pace away the sleep.
Ohno reaches into his pocket again and touches a closed cube.
They are in what used to be their workshop and base of operations - the second floor of Aiba’s parent’s restaurant. How they’ve managed to transport Ohno here is partially explained by the rather inconvenient bruise he is now sporting on the back of his head.
“Clever,” Ohno murmurs, glancing around.
“Glad you think so,” says Aiba excitedly. “That boat felt real, didn’t it?”
“Horribly so,” says Nino, still looking rather green. “As it should have been.”
“We’re not playing at the same level as two years ago, Satoshi-kun,” Jun tells Ohno seriously. “We’re at the top of the game, and we don’t make mistakes.”
“So all of that was to convince me?” Ohno asks.
“All of that,” says Nino, nodding. “Yes.”
“Again,” says Ohno reasonably, “you could have just asked straight out.”
“You would have said no,” Nino replies.
Ohno smiles and shrugs. “My answer hasn’t changed.”
He puts his hand back into his coat pocket and pulls out the tamatebako. Quickly, deftly, he unfolds one of the faces.
“My question, on the other hand, has,” Ohno continues, moving to unfold the next face.
“Don’t,” Jun snaps, before he can stop himself.
Ohno pulls open the second pinwheel. The cube holds.
He turns to them. “Why would you go to so much trouble?”
“We needed to make certain that you would say yes,” Nino tells him.
Ohno looks at their faces, all serious and expectant, and back down at his tamatebako, eerily maintaining its shape despite more than one face being open.
“No,” says Ohno.
He wakes up.
“Three levels,” someone is saying. “These guys are nutjobs.”
It’s Mao, this time, and she’s seen to it that all of them have been sent sprawling out of their chairs and onto the floor.
“How did you know?” Nino demands. “You weren’t supposed to figure it out so quickly.”
“Mao-chan got the smell wrong,” says Jun accusingly.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” says Mao indignantly. “The smell?”
“He has spent a lot of time in this workshop,” Aiba supplies. “And, he’s Oh-chan, after all. If anyone would know, it would be Oh-chan.”
They are back in the workshop again - the real one this time, Ohno knows, without having to check - Nino may be reckless but he wouldn’t be foolhardy enough to try four levels. Not yet, at least.
“Kazu-chan,” says Ohno seriously. “Exactly what point are you trying to prove?”
“You can’t refuse us,” Nino says. “You no longer have any grounds to. Those three levels were near perfect and you know it.”
“Yes, they were,” Ohno agrees, “but you haven’t given me any grounds on which to accept your offer, either.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asks Jun.
“You haven’t actually told me what sort of job you’re thinking of doing,” says Ohno.
“Is that a yes, then?” asks Nino.
“Not until you tell me,” says Ohno. “Why haven’t you?”
“Because you weren’t asking the right question,” Nino replies.
“And what would that be?” Ohno asks, but the moment the words leave his mouth he finds that he knows the answer.
He looks around the workshop - Mao, hovering uncertainly over the briefcase; Aiba fiddling with the ship-maze model Ohno had constructed years ago. Jun standing slightly behind Nino, looking stricken.
Sho isn’t there.
“That can’t be true.”
“It is,” Nino says.
“How?”
“We made a mistake,” Jun tells him. “Our biggest-”
“And our last,” Nino interrupts.
Aiba nods. “We’re going to get him back.”
“You could really have just asked me straight out,” says Ohno, after a long pause. “But I figured it’s not really our style.”
“Do I know what your answer is, now?” asks Nino, and there’s that desperation again, that wild look like panic that Ohno’s only seen twice before: at the end of the line, with no kick forthcoming and the knowledge that they’re in too deep. Then again, Nino’s always managed to manoeuvre his way out, to land on his feet.
“Yes,” says Ohno, for the first time in two years. “Yes.”
End
---------
This is a Tamatebako.