[one-shot] Unbroken
Title: Unbroken
Type: One-shot
Word count: 4,685
Rating: G
Pairing: Yamapi/Shige
Summary: The boy doesn’t entirely understand, but he feels as if he’s witnessing something special. Future fic. sanjihan deserves cookies for the super quick beta-ing last night. My first ShigePi one-shot, yay! ♥
Tomoaki doesn’t really like writing. He thinks it’s ironic, because his father is an author of numerous bestselling books. It’s not so much that he hates writing in itself, but he often finds the task difficult. Even with an assigned theme from his elementary school teacher, he can only write a few sentences before he starts biting his pen, at a loss about how to continue. His father says it’s probably because he lacks exercise; he should practice more and not give up. Tomoaki thinks it’s easy for his father to say, since he seems to be able to effortlessly churn out pages and pages of writing on his laptop.
“How many pages do you write for your books, daddy?” asks Tomoaki.
His father puts down his coffee mug on the dining table, scrunches his eyebrows and glances upwards like he often does when he’s thinking. “For photo collections of course I don’t need to write too much, just a few paragraphs of introduction, but for travel memoirs I’d say around 300 to 400 pages. For novels it can be longer.”
Tomoaki sinks lower in his seat as he stares at his omurice. Three hundred pages? He can barely write three paragraphs. Seeing the glum look on his face, his father says, “Hey, chin up. You never know what you can do until you try.”
The boy stabs at his breakfast randomly with his fork. “But sometimes I just don’t know what to write.”
The corners of his father’s lips lift up in a quiet smile. “My friend used to have the same problem. He wanted to write a diary every day but sometimes he would have no clue what write about.”
“What did your friend do then?”
His father chuckles a little, but Tomoaki detects a sort of melancholic tinge to it. “He would just write ‘I don’t know what to write’.”
The boy doesn’t find that very encouraging. He is certain his teacher will not be very impressed if his composition homework consists only of that sentence, repeated until the bottom of the page.
His father soon adds, “Tell you what, I’m going to ask you to start a little project. I’ll give you a notebook where you’ll write a little something every day. It doesn’t have to be long. The point is to practice writing more and more.”
“What should I write about?”
“Anything. You can write about simple things like how your day was, or something imaginative-” his father raises his hands in a grand gesture, “-like what you would do if you find a door to another world. Or if your reflection in the mirror could talk to you. Be creative!”
It really does sound interesting, Tomoaki thinks. “Can I pretend I’m somebody else when I’m writing?”
“Of course! I haven’t told you this, but...” his father grins, “I used to pretend I was a cat in my writing. The cat would follow me around and describe what happened to me, in cat perspective, of course.”
Tomoaki cocks his head. “But daddy... you’re allergic to cats.”
His father’s eyes twinkle in amusement as he reaches for his mug and lifts it to his lips. “That’s the whole point, isn’t it?”
Suddenly brightening up, Tomoaki can hardly believe he is looking forward to writing.
This is Pirate King Tomoaki.
Today I’m starting my writing project!
My dad (the previous King) got me this notebook, and I will try to write in it every day.
Let the Pirate King’s adventures begin!
Tomoaki soon falls into the routine of writing in his notebook. He brings it everywhere, to school, to baseball practice, even to his friend Hitomi’s house when he comes to visit (the house is a ramen shop and her parents always let him eat as much as he wants). At first Hitomi is upset that he’s busy with his book instead of playing with her, but then he starts reading her his adventures as the Pirate King and that immediately attracts her attention. She is soon appointed Pirate Queen and begins to accompany the King in his voyages, which he describes in his notebook.
Hitomi’s father is Tomoaki’s godfather, and vice versa. The two kids have been best friends for as long as they can remember. Hitomi’s father hosts of the famous talk show/variety The Koyama Keiichiro Show, which they often watch together. Their fathers even used to be members of the same band, although Tomoaki’s dad had long since retired to pursue his dream of becoming an author and photographer. He is still quite busy though, with all the book signings and writing and photography workshops. He used to travel a lot to write his memoirs but since the last few years he reduced his journeys significantly, opting to stay at home more and focus on novels instead. Tomoaki knows it’s because his father wants to have more time with him, now that his mother is not around.
A few years ago his mother and father sat down with him and told him they were separating. They would live in different houses and not be husband and wife anymore, but they said that didn’t mean they would stop being his parents. Tomoaki probably should’ve seen it all coming, what with the increasing arguments behind closed doors and the lengthy silences on the dining table, but his parents always tried to conceal the worst of it from him so he didn’t know the actual extent of the damage. When they told him he could choose who he wanted to live with, he burst into tears without intending to and said he wanted to stay with both of them. All three of them cried that day but the result was that Tomoaki went to live with his mother, since his father was still traveling a lot. They kept to their promise and loved Tomoaki all the same, always looking out for his interest and putting whatever discord they had to the side.
Then his mother won a scholarship to pursue her master’s degree in England, something she had wanted for a long time, and again the three of them sat together and discussed what they were going to do. They are the kind of family who supported each other’s decisions, and Tomoaki, knowing that his mother would always encourage him to follow his dreams, agreed that she should follow hers. After his father wrapped up his latest leg of travels, Tomoaki moved into his apartment while his mother left for England. They maintained regular contact, and not once has Tomoaki felt that either of his parents broke the promise they made to him. They are family and nothing can change that.
His daily life follows a simple routine. He wakes up in the morning and has breakfast with his father. Although his father sometimes stays up late to write (“Inspiration often hits at the most unexpected times”), he never fails to get up and make him breakfast. After that Tomoaki goes to school while his father goes to work on his laptop, or takes a nap if he has spent most of the night writing.
Tomoaki has baseball practice twice a week after school. On his free afternoons he goes to Hitomi’s house to play or to the game center with his other friends. Sometimes he just goes straight home and, when his father is there and not running some errands, they play a video game or do some other thing together. His mother sometimes calls him later in the evening when he’s doing his homework, or he calls her to catch up on the goings on in each other’s lives. For dinner his father whips up something again in the kitchen, or they go to a restaurant or to the Koyamas’ for a night of good ramen and excellent friends.
If someone asks Tomoaki whether he is happy, he will say he is. He has an awesome father and a wonderful mother who love him wholeheartedly although they are not together anymore. He has a comfortable home and a best friend and despite his composition problems, his grades are generally good. He is not the best player on his baseball team and is prone to unnecessary blunders, but he tries his best and enjoys the sport (which his father says is good enough already, since he and Uncle Keiichiro seems to have a standing bet over whether or not Tomoaki will be as helpless as his father in terms of athletic prowess). Thanks to his father he has developed a habit of reading and through newspapers and books he learns about children less fortunate than he is in various parts of the world. This makes him grateful for all that he has, imperfect as it may be.
He sometimes wonders, though, whether his father feels the same way. During quiet, unguarded moments he often catches his father with a vacant look in his eyes, the book in his lap forgotten as he rubs his forehead absently like something serious is burdening his mind. Tomoaki then worries that he is the cause of his father’s troubles, that he is not smart enough or not diligent enough. Most of all he assumes that his father is lonely without his mother. He sidles closer to his father on the couch and, tugging the sleeve of his father’s shirt, asks slowly, “Daddy, are you unhappy?”
His father turns to him, his frown instantly replaced by a tender smile, and slings an arm around Tomoaki’s smaller form. “Of course not. I have you.”
Circling his arms around his father’s waist, Tomoaki tucks himself against the familiar warmth of his father’s chest. He knows his father is not lying when he says he’s lucky to have him, but a part of him thinks his father is keeping something under wraps.
I don’t know if it’s because he misses my mom or not, but I feel my dad (the previous King) isn’t entirely happy.
It may not be enough, but I always try to be better for him.
I want to make him proud to call me his son.
I will make our name famous in all the corners of the seven seas.
One evening Tomoaki is in the living room, alternating between doing his math homework and watching TV - mostly the latter, if you want him to tell the truth. His father is working in his study. The doorbell rings and Tomoaki gets up to get it. When he opens the door he is faced with a sturdy man about his father’s age, his skin tanned, longish dark hair covering his eyes. The man puts on a languid smile and says, “Hey, kiddo. Is your father home?”
Tomoaki looks up at him suspiciously, at the deep, liquid eyes that were unreadable but not entirely unkind. He feels he has seen this man before but can’t exactly remember where. Despite his doubts he asks politely like his father taught him, “May I know who you are, sir?”
The unknown guest has barely opened his mouth to reply when Tomoaki hears the sound of footsteps behind him. “Tomo-kun, who is it?” His father reaches the genkan and freezes when he sees the person standing at the door. His voice sounds unsteady when he says, “Pi...?”
Tomoaki watches as the smile on the newcomer’s face grows wider at the sight of his father. “Hi, Shige.”
The man appears to want to come closer but hesitates, seemingly waiting for a signal from Shige. Feeling suddenly in the way, Tomoaki steps back from the door, leaving an open space between his father and the man called Pi. After a moment of tense silence Shige makes a slight advance and his guest, shedding his inhibitions, moves forward and embraces him. Shige’s arms hang restlessly at his sides before he lifts them up to hug the man back. Tomoaki notices how the newcomer slides his hand upward to let it rest at the back of his father’s neck.
They stand there for a while with their arms around each other before parting. Shige clears his throat awkwardly and puts a hand on Tomoaki’s shoulder to pull him closer. “Tomoaki, this is my old friend, Yamashita.”
The boy makes a courteous bow. “Kato Tomoaki. Nice to meet you."
The newcomer bends over, smiles and pats Tomoaki’s head. “Great to meet you too. I’m Tomo too, you know? Tomohisa. Everybody calls me Yamapi, though.”
All of a sudden it hits Tomoaki where he had seen this man before: on the covers of the CDs, DVDs and magazines his father keeps on the top shelf in his study. This man is one of the six people whose faces grace those items, along with Tomoaki’s father and Uncle Keiichiro. “You’re one of the band members!” he exclaims.
Yamapi laughs. “It’s nice to be reminded of the good old days.” He throws a glance at Shige, and the two share a look which makes Tomoaki finally understand what it means when a book describes its characters communicating without using any words. He feels like the only person in the room who is not getting the message.
Since it’s already near dinnertime, Shige invites Yamapi to eat with them. Tomoaki sits with their guest at the dining table and talks to him while Shige cooks in the adjoining kitchen. The boy notices that his father is unusually silent, but Yamapi always tries to include him in the conversation, throwing a remark at him every now and then or asking for confirmation about something. Yamapi tells Tomoaki he just returned from learning acting and dancing in New York.
“It’s been such a long time, I missed Japan so much,” he says. “The food, the atmosphere, the language... and the people, of course. It’s what I miss the most.” Tomoaki sees his eyes flitting at Shige’s direction, which he does a lot. Shige has his back facing them so Tomoaki can’t see his expression.
The food is soon ready and the three of them dig in, talking casually between bites. Tomoaki can sense the familiarity between Yamapi and his father despite the seemingly distant behavior the latter appears to have adopted since his friend came in the door. Yamapi seems to be a pretty nice guy, but although Tomoaki takes an immediate liking to him he thinks that beneath the cool exterior there are layers and layers of his personality that he doesn’t know about. He has a feeling his father does, though.
When they are done Tomoaki offers to take their plates to the sink since it’s his turn anyway to do the dishes tonight. As he turns on the tap he hears Yamapi saying behind him in the dining room, his voice carrying faintly amid the sound of running water, “It’s been a long time.”
A drawn-out silence ensues before Shige answers, “Yes.”
Tomoaki steals a look over his shoulder and glimpses Yamapi reaching across the table and putting a hand over his father’s. Shige only spares a few seconds before pulling his hand away.
Uncle Yamapi is very nice to my dad and to me too.
But it seems like there was a problem between them, and it remained unresolved.
Perhaps they fought over a hidden treasure in a remote island.
Whatever it is, I hope they work it out. It’s sad to lose a friend over something like that.
After all, you need all the friends you can get, living the dangerous life of a pirate.
Yamapi came to the apartment a lot throughout the next couple of weeks. Tomoaki finds himself enjoying the man’s company, and despite himself it looks as if that Shige does too. It is clear to Tomoaki that his father and Yamapi have been close, perhaps not in the same way he and Uncle Keiichiro are close, but there is a certain dynamic between them that even years of separation cannot undo. They talk a lot about their former band NEWS, and it is from Yamapi that Tomoaki learns with a shock something he never expected.
“You sang the theme to One Piece?!” he cries out in disbelief at his father, who has just come home to find him and Yamapi going through the long untouched collection of NEWS discography.
“Well, yes,” Shige scratches his head. “Is there something wrong with that?”
Tomoaki tries to explain but he knows his father probably doesn’t understand the significance of singing the theme song to the chronicles of the awesomest pirate in the whole world, Monkey D. Luffy. Meanwhile Yamapi just laughs out loud; he rarely laughs with such carefree abandon but when he does the sound of it is fresher than the first drops of a spring shower. Shige’s eyes always soften a bit, his mood seeming to improve a bit, every time Yamapi laughs like that.
They do, however, lose their reserve the most when Tomoaki is not around. The boy finds out about this when Yamapi stops by one night bringing pizza for them to eat. It’s a school night so Tomoaki repairs to bed early while his father and Yamapi go on talking. Hours later the boy wakes up to go to the bathroom, and when he is going to return to bed he notices the light of the living room still on, accompanied by something that sounds like music. As he slowly approaches he can make out the chime of laughter.
Standing at the edge of the living room, he sees the two men on the sofa watching a DVD. A more careful observation tells Tomoaki it’s a NEWS concert - the images of the younger versions of Shige and his friends flashing on the screen. The concert is interspersed by documentary footage of the band members backstage, at hotels and airports, jetting from city to city to entertain people with song and dance. Occasionally Shige points at something and he and Yamapi will chuckle over some private joke, or guffaw unstoppably over their horrendous stage outfits. Tomoaki can’t remember the last time his father laughed this hard, until he’s wiping tears from his eyes.
When the concert is over and the credits are rolling on the screen, Shige and Yamapi sit back on the couch, worn out from all the excitement. Yamapi throws his head back and sighs. “We had the time of our lives back then, huh?”
Shige nods lethargically. “Lots of problems, but lots of fun too.”
“I wish...” Yamapi starts, then pauses before continuing. “I wish things could go back the way they used to be.”
At first Tomoaki thinks his father isn’t going to respond, but then he opens his mouth and utters in a small voice like he is afraid someone might hear, “Me too.”
Yamapi scoots nearer and gently rests his head on Shige’s shoulder. This time Shige doesn’t pull away, and they just sit together like that for a long time. Tomoaki doesn’t entirely understand, but he feels as if he’s witnessing something special.
The smooth fabric of those peaceful days is suddenly disturbed when Tomoaki arrives home early one day after his baseball practice was canceled because the coach is sick. He has just spotted Yamapi’s pair of worn sneakers in the genkan when he hears the shouts wafting from inside.
“I’m not going to listen to any of this!” The boy makes out his father’s angry voice. “Now shut up and get out of my house!”
“Shige, please!” Yamapi sounds exasperated and not a little furious himself. “If you’d just stop and listen to me for a minute-”
“I said GET OUT!”
Tomoaki shivers a little at the tone Shige is using. He has never seen nor heard his father this angry; his parents always spared him the ugly details of their divorce so he barely ever saw them fighting. Even when Shige was really upset with him there was never any excessive yelling, never a complete loss of temper like this.
He’s not really keen on seeing either of the disputing parties, so when he hears a door being slammed and footsteps marching his way he slips away to hide in the space between the shoe closet and the umbrella stand. Yamapi comes past, just a hazy blur in his hurry to wear his shoes before vanishing out the door. Tomoaki stays in his hiding place for a while before he gathers enough courage to go inside the house in tiptoes, exhaling in relief when he sees that the door to his father’s study is closed. Shige only comes out hours later when it’s time for dinner, and even then he won’t look at Tomoaki in the eye or say a word. The boy is too scared to start asking anything and he knows it isn’t his business anyway.
There are no visits from Yamapi for the next few days. Sometimes when Shige’s cell phone rings he rejects the call after a cursory glance at the screen, and Tomoaki has a sneaking suspicion that the call is from Yamapi. After a while the man starts calling on the house phone but Shige always refuses to take it, leaving a stuttering Tomoaki to make up excuses although he knows he’s not fooling anybody. Yamapi just says on the other end, “Ah, I see. Well, please let him know I called.” His voice is low and full of defeat, the sound of dry leaves crushed under one’s foot.
On Sunday Tomoaki finds a letter next to the newspaper on the doormat with a single word handwritten on the envelope: Shige. He hands it to his father, who opens the envelope rapidly, reads the contents in what seems to the boy to be less than five seconds, scrunches the paper into a ball and throw it into the wastepaper basket, ignoring Tomoaki’s open-mouthed stare. Later when Shige is out doing grocery shopping, Tomoaki’s curiosity gets the better of him. He fishes the crumpled piece of paper from the wastepaper basket and smoothes it out, reading the two simple lines scribbled there:
I’m sorry, Shige. I don’t know what else to say to you.
Tomoaki remembers what his father told him once, about a friend who didn’t know what to write, and now he thinks he knows who that friend is.
There is a tiny spark of hope within Tomoaki’s heart that his father and Yamapi can work it out somehow, but the flame is forcefully put out the day he comes home from Hitomi’s house to find Yamapi sitting on the steps to his apartment building. A suitcase stands at the bottom of the steps near the man’s feet, and a large bag is slung over his shoulder. He greets the boy with a lopsided smile and pats the empty space next to him on the steps. Tomoaki sits down, eyeing the suitcase and bag worriedly. “You’re leaving?”
“Yeah, back to New York. I didn’t want to go before meeting you two, but I rang the bell and no one answered.”
“Daddy is at the publisher’s office, I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” Tomoaki bites his bottom lip, trying to stop the words from escaping his mouth but he can’t help himself. “Why don’t you and daddy make up?”
Yamapi’s rather stunned expression only lasts a split second before being replaced by a look of gentle amusement. “Thank you for your concern. It’s just that the problems go way back, and it’s tough for the both of us.”
“But my dad looks happy when he’s with you.”
Yamapi’s eyes gleam as a wave of emotions washes over his face in turns: astonishment, delight, sadness, but above all there’s relief. He ruffles Tomoaki’s hair as he croaks out, “Thanks, kiddo. That means a lot.”
The boy wants to say more, to persuade Yamapi to do something to save the friendship, but the sound of footsteps scatters his thoughts and he looks up to see his father walking up the path to the apartment building. Shige positively blanches when he sees the two figures on the steps, the dark circles that have developed under his eyes becoming even more pronounced. He slows a little in his gait before coming to a full stop, his gaze taking in Yamapi’s bag and suitcase just like his son did before him. “...Pi,” is all he manages, his inflection making it unclear what he means by the utterance.
Yamapi gets up and offers him a big smile unlike the one he gave Tomoaki earlier. “I have to go back to New York for a bit, Shige. There are dance routines waiting to be learnt.”
Shige shakes his head, all the anger from the day Tomoaki heard him fighting with Yamapi seemingly evaporating. “Pi, I... I’m sorry.”
His friend lets out a throaty sound between a chuckle and a groan, and says, “There’s no need for any of that now.”
This time it’s Shige who moves forward first and hugs him, without hesitation, without even worrying that his son is watching. And Tomoaki does watch with fascination as the two men’s bodies mold perfectly into each other, Yamapi’s hand fisting the shirt on Shige’s back while Shige leans his face into Yamapi’s shoulder and closes his eyes. The air is hushed and Tomoaki realizes he’s holding his breath, trying not to intrude in a moment that clearly belongs to the two of them. Finally they break apart albeit with some reluctance, but Yamapi leaves his hands on Shige’s shoulders. “I’ll be seeing you later. Take care, all right?”
Shige keeps his gaze down and merely nods. Yamapi smiles and turns to Tomoaki, stooping down so that their eyes are level. “Watch over your daddy for me, will you?”
Suddenly Tomoaki wants to hug Yamapi too so he does just that, pushing Yamapi a step backward as he throws his short arms around the man’s waist. Yamapi laughs and holds him close, and the boy thinks the hug is just as warm as his father’s.
They let each other go and Yamapi says he’ll find a cab to go to the airport. He gives father and son one last look, a small wave of the hand and that trademark smile before he turns and disappears round the corner. Tomoaki looks up at his father concernedly. “Daddy...?”
Shige seems to be snapping out of a reverie, and he puts a hand on his son’s head. “Yes, Tomo-kun?”
The boy wracks his brain for something to cheer up his father. “How about... how about going to Hitomi’s house? To eat ramen?” Never mind that he just returned from that very place.
His father looks at him and Tomoaki can swear something like an understanding passes between them, about Yamapi and everything that has happened since he showed up on their door, although if you ask him later the boy can’t possibly explain it to you. Shige simply smiles and pulls the boy closer against his side.
“I think ramen would be a good idea.”
In the end my daddy and Uncle Yamapi said goodbye.
But I feel it’s not truly the end, not really.
Because pirates are like peas in a pod.
They’ll meet again one day, to find the precious One Piece.
~Epilogue~
“Okay, who wants dessert?” Koyama pipes up.
“Me! Me! Me!” Tomoaki and Hitomi start bouncing on their seats, and Shige, feeling suddenly impish, shoots up his hand in the air as well. “Me too!”
“You don’t count!” Koyama playfully swats Shige’s hand, but he soon gets up to fetch the dessert anyway. As the two children chat away about the hottest new game console everybody at school is playing, Shige checks his phone and finds a new mail. It’s from Yamapi, probably sent just before his plane took off.
I just want you to know I’m not giving up.
I’ll find a way back to you, Shige.
I always will.
Shige’s breath catches in his throat, and he feels something warm crawling from deep inside his chest all the way to the tips of his fingers. It’s something to hold on to, and for now it’s enough.
Type: One-shot
Word count: 4,685
Rating: G
Pairing: Yamapi/Shige
Summary: The boy doesn’t entirely understand, but he feels as if he’s witnessing something special. Future fic. sanjihan deserves cookies for the super quick beta-ing last night. My first ShigePi one-shot, yay! ♥
Tomoaki doesn’t really like writing. He thinks it’s ironic, because his father is an author of numerous bestselling books. It’s not so much that he hates writing in itself, but he often finds the task difficult. Even with an assigned theme from his elementary school teacher, he can only write a few sentences before he starts biting his pen, at a loss about how to continue. His father says it’s probably because he lacks exercise; he should practice more and not give up. Tomoaki thinks it’s easy for his father to say, since he seems to be able to effortlessly churn out pages and pages of writing on his laptop.
“How many pages do you write for your books, daddy?” asks Tomoaki.
His father puts down his coffee mug on the dining table, scrunches his eyebrows and glances upwards like he often does when he’s thinking. “For photo collections of course I don’t need to write too much, just a few paragraphs of introduction, but for travel memoirs I’d say around 300 to 400 pages. For novels it can be longer.”
Tomoaki sinks lower in his seat as he stares at his omurice. Three hundred pages? He can barely write three paragraphs. Seeing the glum look on his face, his father says, “Hey, chin up. You never know what you can do until you try.”
The boy stabs at his breakfast randomly with his fork. “But sometimes I just don’t know what to write.”
The corners of his father’s lips lift up in a quiet smile. “My friend used to have the same problem. He wanted to write a diary every day but sometimes he would have no clue what write about.”
“What did your friend do then?”
His father chuckles a little, but Tomoaki detects a sort of melancholic tinge to it. “He would just write ‘I don’t know what to write’.”
The boy doesn’t find that very encouraging. He is certain his teacher will not be very impressed if his composition homework consists only of that sentence, repeated until the bottom of the page.
His father soon adds, “Tell you what, I’m going to ask you to start a little project. I’ll give you a notebook where you’ll write a little something every day. It doesn’t have to be long. The point is to practice writing more and more.”
“What should I write about?”
“Anything. You can write about simple things like how your day was, or something imaginative-” his father raises his hands in a grand gesture, “-like what you would do if you find a door to another world. Or if your reflection in the mirror could talk to you. Be creative!”
It really does sound interesting, Tomoaki thinks. “Can I pretend I’m somebody else when I’m writing?”
“Of course! I haven’t told you this, but...” his father grins, “I used to pretend I was a cat in my writing. The cat would follow me around and describe what happened to me, in cat perspective, of course.”
Tomoaki cocks his head. “But daddy... you’re allergic to cats.”
His father’s eyes twinkle in amusement as he reaches for his mug and lifts it to his lips. “That’s the whole point, isn’t it?”
Suddenly brightening up, Tomoaki can hardly believe he is looking forward to writing.
This is Pirate King Tomoaki.
Today I’m starting my writing project!
My dad (the previous King) got me this notebook, and I will try to write in it every day.
Let the Pirate King’s adventures begin!
Tomoaki soon falls into the routine of writing in his notebook. He brings it everywhere, to school, to baseball practice, even to his friend Hitomi’s house when he comes to visit (the house is a ramen shop and her parents always let him eat as much as he wants). At first Hitomi is upset that he’s busy with his book instead of playing with her, but then he starts reading her his adventures as the Pirate King and that immediately attracts her attention. She is soon appointed Pirate Queen and begins to accompany the King in his voyages, which he describes in his notebook.
Hitomi’s father is Tomoaki’s godfather, and vice versa. The two kids have been best friends for as long as they can remember. Hitomi’s father hosts of the famous talk show/variety The Koyama Keiichiro Show, which they often watch together. Their fathers even used to be members of the same band, although Tomoaki’s dad had long since retired to pursue his dream of becoming an author and photographer. He is still quite busy though, with all the book signings and writing and photography workshops. He used to travel a lot to write his memoirs but since the last few years he reduced his journeys significantly, opting to stay at home more and focus on novels instead. Tomoaki knows it’s because his father wants to have more time with him, now that his mother is not around.
A few years ago his mother and father sat down with him and told him they were separating. They would live in different houses and not be husband and wife anymore, but they said that didn’t mean they would stop being his parents. Tomoaki probably should’ve seen it all coming, what with the increasing arguments behind closed doors and the lengthy silences on the dining table, but his parents always tried to conceal the worst of it from him so he didn’t know the actual extent of the damage. When they told him he could choose who he wanted to live with, he burst into tears without intending to and said he wanted to stay with both of them. All three of them cried that day but the result was that Tomoaki went to live with his mother, since his father was still traveling a lot. They kept to their promise and loved Tomoaki all the same, always looking out for his interest and putting whatever discord they had to the side.
Then his mother won a scholarship to pursue her master’s degree in England, something she had wanted for a long time, and again the three of them sat together and discussed what they were going to do. They are the kind of family who supported each other’s decisions, and Tomoaki, knowing that his mother would always encourage him to follow his dreams, agreed that she should follow hers. After his father wrapped up his latest leg of travels, Tomoaki moved into his apartment while his mother left for England. They maintained regular contact, and not once has Tomoaki felt that either of his parents broke the promise they made to him. They are family and nothing can change that.
His daily life follows a simple routine. He wakes up in the morning and has breakfast with his father. Although his father sometimes stays up late to write (“Inspiration often hits at the most unexpected times”), he never fails to get up and make him breakfast. After that Tomoaki goes to school while his father goes to work on his laptop, or takes a nap if he has spent most of the night writing.
Tomoaki has baseball practice twice a week after school. On his free afternoons he goes to Hitomi’s house to play or to the game center with his other friends. Sometimes he just goes straight home and, when his father is there and not running some errands, they play a video game or do some other thing together. His mother sometimes calls him later in the evening when he’s doing his homework, or he calls her to catch up on the goings on in each other’s lives. For dinner his father whips up something again in the kitchen, or they go to a restaurant or to the Koyamas’ for a night of good ramen and excellent friends.
If someone asks Tomoaki whether he is happy, he will say he is. He has an awesome father and a wonderful mother who love him wholeheartedly although they are not together anymore. He has a comfortable home and a best friend and despite his composition problems, his grades are generally good. He is not the best player on his baseball team and is prone to unnecessary blunders, but he tries his best and enjoys the sport (which his father says is good enough already, since he and Uncle Keiichiro seems to have a standing bet over whether or not Tomoaki will be as helpless as his father in terms of athletic prowess). Thanks to his father he has developed a habit of reading and through newspapers and books he learns about children less fortunate than he is in various parts of the world. This makes him grateful for all that he has, imperfect as it may be.
He sometimes wonders, though, whether his father feels the same way. During quiet, unguarded moments he often catches his father with a vacant look in his eyes, the book in his lap forgotten as he rubs his forehead absently like something serious is burdening his mind. Tomoaki then worries that he is the cause of his father’s troubles, that he is not smart enough or not diligent enough. Most of all he assumes that his father is lonely without his mother. He sidles closer to his father on the couch and, tugging the sleeve of his father’s shirt, asks slowly, “Daddy, are you unhappy?”
His father turns to him, his frown instantly replaced by a tender smile, and slings an arm around Tomoaki’s smaller form. “Of course not. I have you.”
Circling his arms around his father’s waist, Tomoaki tucks himself against the familiar warmth of his father’s chest. He knows his father is not lying when he says he’s lucky to have him, but a part of him thinks his father is keeping something under wraps.
I don’t know if it’s because he misses my mom or not, but I feel my dad (the previous King) isn’t entirely happy.
It may not be enough, but I always try to be better for him.
I want to make him proud to call me his son.
I will make our name famous in all the corners of the seven seas.
One evening Tomoaki is in the living room, alternating between doing his math homework and watching TV - mostly the latter, if you want him to tell the truth. His father is working in his study. The doorbell rings and Tomoaki gets up to get it. When he opens the door he is faced with a sturdy man about his father’s age, his skin tanned, longish dark hair covering his eyes. The man puts on a languid smile and says, “Hey, kiddo. Is your father home?”
Tomoaki looks up at him suspiciously, at the deep, liquid eyes that were unreadable but not entirely unkind. He feels he has seen this man before but can’t exactly remember where. Despite his doubts he asks politely like his father taught him, “May I know who you are, sir?”
The unknown guest has barely opened his mouth to reply when Tomoaki hears the sound of footsteps behind him. “Tomo-kun, who is it?” His father reaches the genkan and freezes when he sees the person standing at the door. His voice sounds unsteady when he says, “Pi...?”
Tomoaki watches as the smile on the newcomer’s face grows wider at the sight of his father. “Hi, Shige.”
The man appears to want to come closer but hesitates, seemingly waiting for a signal from Shige. Feeling suddenly in the way, Tomoaki steps back from the door, leaving an open space between his father and the man called Pi. After a moment of tense silence Shige makes a slight advance and his guest, shedding his inhibitions, moves forward and embraces him. Shige’s arms hang restlessly at his sides before he lifts them up to hug the man back. Tomoaki notices how the newcomer slides his hand upward to let it rest at the back of his father’s neck.
They stand there for a while with their arms around each other before parting. Shige clears his throat awkwardly and puts a hand on Tomoaki’s shoulder to pull him closer. “Tomoaki, this is my old friend, Yamashita.”
The boy makes a courteous bow. “Kato Tomoaki. Nice to meet you."
The newcomer bends over, smiles and pats Tomoaki’s head. “Great to meet you too. I’m Tomo too, you know? Tomohisa. Everybody calls me Yamapi, though.”
All of a sudden it hits Tomoaki where he had seen this man before: on the covers of the CDs, DVDs and magazines his father keeps on the top shelf in his study. This man is one of the six people whose faces grace those items, along with Tomoaki’s father and Uncle Keiichiro. “You’re one of the band members!” he exclaims.
Yamapi laughs. “It’s nice to be reminded of the good old days.” He throws a glance at Shige, and the two share a look which makes Tomoaki finally understand what it means when a book describes its characters communicating without using any words. He feels like the only person in the room who is not getting the message.
Since it’s already near dinnertime, Shige invites Yamapi to eat with them. Tomoaki sits with their guest at the dining table and talks to him while Shige cooks in the adjoining kitchen. The boy notices that his father is unusually silent, but Yamapi always tries to include him in the conversation, throwing a remark at him every now and then or asking for confirmation about something. Yamapi tells Tomoaki he just returned from learning acting and dancing in New York.
“It’s been such a long time, I missed Japan so much,” he says. “The food, the atmosphere, the language... and the people, of course. It’s what I miss the most.” Tomoaki sees his eyes flitting at Shige’s direction, which he does a lot. Shige has his back facing them so Tomoaki can’t see his expression.
The food is soon ready and the three of them dig in, talking casually between bites. Tomoaki can sense the familiarity between Yamapi and his father despite the seemingly distant behavior the latter appears to have adopted since his friend came in the door. Yamapi seems to be a pretty nice guy, but although Tomoaki takes an immediate liking to him he thinks that beneath the cool exterior there are layers and layers of his personality that he doesn’t know about. He has a feeling his father does, though.
When they are done Tomoaki offers to take their plates to the sink since it’s his turn anyway to do the dishes tonight. As he turns on the tap he hears Yamapi saying behind him in the dining room, his voice carrying faintly amid the sound of running water, “It’s been a long time.”
A drawn-out silence ensues before Shige answers, “Yes.”
Tomoaki steals a look over his shoulder and glimpses Yamapi reaching across the table and putting a hand over his father’s. Shige only spares a few seconds before pulling his hand away.
Uncle Yamapi is very nice to my dad and to me too.
But it seems like there was a problem between them, and it remained unresolved.
Perhaps they fought over a hidden treasure in a remote island.
Whatever it is, I hope they work it out. It’s sad to lose a friend over something like that.
After all, you need all the friends you can get, living the dangerous life of a pirate.
Yamapi came to the apartment a lot throughout the next couple of weeks. Tomoaki finds himself enjoying the man’s company, and despite himself it looks as if that Shige does too. It is clear to Tomoaki that his father and Yamapi have been close, perhaps not in the same way he and Uncle Keiichiro are close, but there is a certain dynamic between them that even years of separation cannot undo. They talk a lot about their former band NEWS, and it is from Yamapi that Tomoaki learns with a shock something he never expected.
“You sang the theme to One Piece?!” he cries out in disbelief at his father, who has just come home to find him and Yamapi going through the long untouched collection of NEWS discography.
“Well, yes,” Shige scratches his head. “Is there something wrong with that?”
Tomoaki tries to explain but he knows his father probably doesn’t understand the significance of singing the theme song to the chronicles of the awesomest pirate in the whole world, Monkey D. Luffy. Meanwhile Yamapi just laughs out loud; he rarely laughs with such carefree abandon but when he does the sound of it is fresher than the first drops of a spring shower. Shige’s eyes always soften a bit, his mood seeming to improve a bit, every time Yamapi laughs like that.
They do, however, lose their reserve the most when Tomoaki is not around. The boy finds out about this when Yamapi stops by one night bringing pizza for them to eat. It’s a school night so Tomoaki repairs to bed early while his father and Yamapi go on talking. Hours later the boy wakes up to go to the bathroom, and when he is going to return to bed he notices the light of the living room still on, accompanied by something that sounds like music. As he slowly approaches he can make out the chime of laughter.
Standing at the edge of the living room, he sees the two men on the sofa watching a DVD. A more careful observation tells Tomoaki it’s a NEWS concert - the images of the younger versions of Shige and his friends flashing on the screen. The concert is interspersed by documentary footage of the band members backstage, at hotels and airports, jetting from city to city to entertain people with song and dance. Occasionally Shige points at something and he and Yamapi will chuckle over some private joke, or guffaw unstoppably over their horrendous stage outfits. Tomoaki can’t remember the last time his father laughed this hard, until he’s wiping tears from his eyes.
When the concert is over and the credits are rolling on the screen, Shige and Yamapi sit back on the couch, worn out from all the excitement. Yamapi throws his head back and sighs. “We had the time of our lives back then, huh?”
Shige nods lethargically. “Lots of problems, but lots of fun too.”
“I wish...” Yamapi starts, then pauses before continuing. “I wish things could go back the way they used to be.”
At first Tomoaki thinks his father isn’t going to respond, but then he opens his mouth and utters in a small voice like he is afraid someone might hear, “Me too.”
Yamapi scoots nearer and gently rests his head on Shige’s shoulder. This time Shige doesn’t pull away, and they just sit together like that for a long time. Tomoaki doesn’t entirely understand, but he feels as if he’s witnessing something special.
The smooth fabric of those peaceful days is suddenly disturbed when Tomoaki arrives home early one day after his baseball practice was canceled because the coach is sick. He has just spotted Yamapi’s pair of worn sneakers in the genkan when he hears the shouts wafting from inside.
“I’m not going to listen to any of this!” The boy makes out his father’s angry voice. “Now shut up and get out of my house!”
“Shige, please!” Yamapi sounds exasperated and not a little furious himself. “If you’d just stop and listen to me for a minute-”
“I said GET OUT!”
Tomoaki shivers a little at the tone Shige is using. He has never seen nor heard his father this angry; his parents always spared him the ugly details of their divorce so he barely ever saw them fighting. Even when Shige was really upset with him there was never any excessive yelling, never a complete loss of temper like this.
He’s not really keen on seeing either of the disputing parties, so when he hears a door being slammed and footsteps marching his way he slips away to hide in the space between the shoe closet and the umbrella stand. Yamapi comes past, just a hazy blur in his hurry to wear his shoes before vanishing out the door. Tomoaki stays in his hiding place for a while before he gathers enough courage to go inside the house in tiptoes, exhaling in relief when he sees that the door to his father’s study is closed. Shige only comes out hours later when it’s time for dinner, and even then he won’t look at Tomoaki in the eye or say a word. The boy is too scared to start asking anything and he knows it isn’t his business anyway.
There are no visits from Yamapi for the next few days. Sometimes when Shige’s cell phone rings he rejects the call after a cursory glance at the screen, and Tomoaki has a sneaking suspicion that the call is from Yamapi. After a while the man starts calling on the house phone but Shige always refuses to take it, leaving a stuttering Tomoaki to make up excuses although he knows he’s not fooling anybody. Yamapi just says on the other end, “Ah, I see. Well, please let him know I called.” His voice is low and full of defeat, the sound of dry leaves crushed under one’s foot.
On Sunday Tomoaki finds a letter next to the newspaper on the doormat with a single word handwritten on the envelope: Shige. He hands it to his father, who opens the envelope rapidly, reads the contents in what seems to the boy to be less than five seconds, scrunches the paper into a ball and throw it into the wastepaper basket, ignoring Tomoaki’s open-mouthed stare. Later when Shige is out doing grocery shopping, Tomoaki’s curiosity gets the better of him. He fishes the crumpled piece of paper from the wastepaper basket and smoothes it out, reading the two simple lines scribbled there:
I’m sorry, Shige. I don’t know what else to say to you.
Tomoaki remembers what his father told him once, about a friend who didn’t know what to write, and now he thinks he knows who that friend is.
There is a tiny spark of hope within Tomoaki’s heart that his father and Yamapi can work it out somehow, but the flame is forcefully put out the day he comes home from Hitomi’s house to find Yamapi sitting on the steps to his apartment building. A suitcase stands at the bottom of the steps near the man’s feet, and a large bag is slung over his shoulder. He greets the boy with a lopsided smile and pats the empty space next to him on the steps. Tomoaki sits down, eyeing the suitcase and bag worriedly. “You’re leaving?”
“Yeah, back to New York. I didn’t want to go before meeting you two, but I rang the bell and no one answered.”
“Daddy is at the publisher’s office, I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” Tomoaki bites his bottom lip, trying to stop the words from escaping his mouth but he can’t help himself. “Why don’t you and daddy make up?”
Yamapi’s rather stunned expression only lasts a split second before being replaced by a look of gentle amusement. “Thank you for your concern. It’s just that the problems go way back, and it’s tough for the both of us.”
“But my dad looks happy when he’s with you.”
Yamapi’s eyes gleam as a wave of emotions washes over his face in turns: astonishment, delight, sadness, but above all there’s relief. He ruffles Tomoaki’s hair as he croaks out, “Thanks, kiddo. That means a lot.”
The boy wants to say more, to persuade Yamapi to do something to save the friendship, but the sound of footsteps scatters his thoughts and he looks up to see his father walking up the path to the apartment building. Shige positively blanches when he sees the two figures on the steps, the dark circles that have developed under his eyes becoming even more pronounced. He slows a little in his gait before coming to a full stop, his gaze taking in Yamapi’s bag and suitcase just like his son did before him. “...Pi,” is all he manages, his inflection making it unclear what he means by the utterance.
Yamapi gets up and offers him a big smile unlike the one he gave Tomoaki earlier. “I have to go back to New York for a bit, Shige. There are dance routines waiting to be learnt.”
Shige shakes his head, all the anger from the day Tomoaki heard him fighting with Yamapi seemingly evaporating. “Pi, I... I’m sorry.”
His friend lets out a throaty sound between a chuckle and a groan, and says, “There’s no need for any of that now.”
This time it’s Shige who moves forward first and hugs him, without hesitation, without even worrying that his son is watching. And Tomoaki does watch with fascination as the two men’s bodies mold perfectly into each other, Yamapi’s hand fisting the shirt on Shige’s back while Shige leans his face into Yamapi’s shoulder and closes his eyes. The air is hushed and Tomoaki realizes he’s holding his breath, trying not to intrude in a moment that clearly belongs to the two of them. Finally they break apart albeit with some reluctance, but Yamapi leaves his hands on Shige’s shoulders. “I’ll be seeing you later. Take care, all right?”
Shige keeps his gaze down and merely nods. Yamapi smiles and turns to Tomoaki, stooping down so that their eyes are level. “Watch over your daddy for me, will you?”
Suddenly Tomoaki wants to hug Yamapi too so he does just that, pushing Yamapi a step backward as he throws his short arms around the man’s waist. Yamapi laughs and holds him close, and the boy thinks the hug is just as warm as his father’s.
They let each other go and Yamapi says he’ll find a cab to go to the airport. He gives father and son one last look, a small wave of the hand and that trademark smile before he turns and disappears round the corner. Tomoaki looks up at his father concernedly. “Daddy...?”
Shige seems to be snapping out of a reverie, and he puts a hand on his son’s head. “Yes, Tomo-kun?”
The boy wracks his brain for something to cheer up his father. “How about... how about going to Hitomi’s house? To eat ramen?” Never mind that he just returned from that very place.
His father looks at him and Tomoaki can swear something like an understanding passes between them, about Yamapi and everything that has happened since he showed up on their door, although if you ask him later the boy can’t possibly explain it to you. Shige simply smiles and pulls the boy closer against his side.
“I think ramen would be a good idea.”
In the end my daddy and Uncle Yamapi said goodbye.
But I feel it’s not truly the end, not really.
Because pirates are like peas in a pod.
They’ll meet again one day, to find the precious One Piece.
~Epilogue~
“Okay, who wants dessert?” Koyama pipes up.
“Me! Me! Me!” Tomoaki and Hitomi start bouncing on their seats, and Shige, feeling suddenly impish, shoots up his hand in the air as well. “Me too!”
“You don’t count!” Koyama playfully swats Shige’s hand, but he soon gets up to fetch the dessert anyway. As the two children chat away about the hottest new game console everybody at school is playing, Shige checks his phone and finds a new mail. It’s from Yamapi, probably sent just before his plane took off.
I just want you to know I’m not giving up.
I’ll find a way back to you, Shige.
I always will.
Shige’s breath catches in his throat, and he feels something warm crawling from deep inside his chest all the way to the tips of his fingers. It’s something to hold on to, and for now it’s enough.