"Meaning"
Uchi meant well.
But Uchi wasn’t a cook because of his drama any more than Ryo was a doctor or social worker because he played one on TV.
Koyama also meant well.
The mother hen of News had noticed that Ryo wasn’t really recovering from his last cold and was too tired to take care of himself. Koyama then told Shige who promptly visited Uchi’s dressing room to relay the message. Shige and Uchi had joked about how stubborn Ryo was sometimes, mocking the absentee with the glee of younger guys toward someone older.
But when Shige was ready to leave, Uchi simply said he would stop by Ryo’s place tonight and bring him dinner. Shige had smiled and texted Koyama as he walked back to his set. While an assistant applied a last touch-up on him before filming, Shige’s cellphone had a new message from his best friend; a giant pulsing yellow heart. Mission accomplished.
Uchi had texted Yamapi when he finished filming to ask when had Ryo left, he wanted to try to make it a surprise. The answer came quick (it was almost as if Yamapi had surgically fixed his cellphone to hand) Ryo had just gone to his Tokyo apartment and would be there shortly.
Ryo thought he could use that free evening (that wasn’t a Reccomen night when he would be disturbed at midnight to answer stupid questions) to rest. Though his voicemail was filled with offers to go out from his friends, he just wanted to crash on his bed to get rid definitely of the pounding headache that had tortured him for days.
He didn’t expect his doorbell to ring a mere 20 minutes after he arrived himself. And he especially didn’t expect Uchi to be standing in the hallway with a stupid grin and two plastic bags filled with food.
Yes Uchi meant well but he had barely mastered the art of laundry, cooking was on a whole other level.
Ryo was tempted to close the door in Uchi’s face (had it been anyone else say Jin he would have) but the excited puppy face the other was making was too cute. Ryo groaned, he had a weak spot for the kid, had one for years it wasn’t like it would disappear overnight.
Uchi went straight in the kitchen, unloading his purchases like he owned the place, whistling a nameless tune. Ryo’s kitchen barely had room enough to fit two people side by side, it was unthinkable to enter right now.
Uchi filled pots of water for something and prepared the rice cooker before declaring that things needed to boil for a while before they could properly cook. Ryo sighed like a mother watching her child prepare a meal for Mother’s Day before grabbing two beers and motioning the couch.
They started to drink in silence, Uchi on the couch, Ryo in his overstuffed chair that Tegoshi and Massu gave him for his birthday a year or two ago.
“So.” Began Uchi staring at Ryo with curiosity.
“So?” retorted Ryo shifting in his seat, wondering if something what was going on more than a simple dinner between friends.
“You look better than what Koyama and Shige said.” Uchi declared, not hiding one bit that this was a set up.
“What have those two morons told you?”
Uchi’s eyes gleamed with mischief while he laughed softly though, Ryo couldn’t tell at whom Uchi was laughing to.
“That you were sick from being overworked and that you probably had pneumonia or worse.” Uchi explained before taking a long gulp of beer.
“Morons, as if I haven’t been doing triple duty for years.” Ryo laughed, he’d been in the business for so long his body was used to a lot of crap he was putting it through.
A shadow passed on Uchi’s face but something Ryo couldn’t name and it unnerved him. Ryo could feel it in his guts that something was bothering Uchi (who despite being a loud mouth and usually was saying everything that was on his mind) that he couldn’t say out loud.
“What’s wrong?” Ryo asked leaning forward, Uchi’s eyes briefly gazed on him before staring at everything but him in the room. His gaze was on the lamp, his bottle of beer, the kitchen as if trying to find inspiration to change the subject.
“Nothing.” Uchi finally said as he peer at his watch with fake fascination.
“Hiroki, don’t give me your drama queen act. If you want to tell me something go ahead.” Ryo leaned back and waited. He knew that Uchi would say what was on his mind just by the faraway look in his eyes.
“You said…” Uchi’s voice trailed off before he breathed in deeply.
“Look it doesn’t matter, I’m here because you were sick and I wanted to make you dinner for a change.” Uchi straightened his shoulders looking far more mature, he even attempted a smile.
Ryo was torn. On one hand he was proud that Uchi was now more grateful for what he had and more hardworking and less of a spoiled brat. By on the other hand, he was a bit disappointed that Uchi was trying his bravado act on him. Ryo had seen Uchi in every spectrum of life; seen him sick, seen him cry, seen him sob, seen him yelled, seen him through every human emotion possible.
“What’s wrong?” Ryo asked again, thinking about it, he didn’t like the fact that Uchi wouldn’t tell him everything, it would feel like there was distance between them.
“I read an interview where you said that liked being the only Johnny’s that was in two bands.” Uchi admitted, shaking the beer bottle but not raising it to his lips.
“So?” Of all things to be angsting about, they both resolved every issues dealing with Uchi’s suspension through and through.
Ryo was starting to doubt it.
“I just wondered if it wasn’t true that you like being the only and you don’t want me back in either groups.” Uchi’s brown eyes were so hard as if knowing the answer already.
“That’s a load of crap! We want you to come back, all of us!” Ryo shouted feeling waves of anger and guilt, his voice didn’t quite match the same indignant tone he used over 2 years ago.
“I know! It just struck me in the interview.” Uchi defended, though his face showed that he did doubt Ryo’s reassurances. News was working so well as a 6 members band, they were all closer than before the suspension. Uchi barely had the patience to learn guitar for one song even Yasu had agreed to stop teaching him, where would be his place in an all instruments band with Murakami-kun playing piano and Kimi-kun playing bongos. Kanjani Eito’s songs weren’t so much about dance steps, “Master Key” seemed amateurish compared “BJ” or “Fuka Fuka”. Even “Eden” didn’t sound the same when he saw them at the Tokyo Dome.
“You know as well as I do how much crap we say in interviews!” Ryo chastised, his voice held a bit of desperation to change the subject that Uchi heard too well.
“Yes, I know. Forget I ask.” Uchi then took a long gulp of his beer.
The two sat, keeping their mouths shut but their minds reeling with hundred of things to say.
“You know it’d be nice to have you back.” Ryo repeated out loud after a while, the atmosphere felt heavy like a sky that would be overcast with a thunderstorm.
“Yeah, it’s just with Kusano leaving to New York. It really hit me that there’s no more chance of things being what they used to.” Uchi said slowly, Ryo’s face darkened hearing what Uchi left unsaid.
“And the manager didn’t tell me what I was doing next but most of you guys are being called for dramas. Even Subaru-kun and Murakami-kun have roles.”
Ryo rose and sat next to Uchi instead of across. Maybe the words would be let out easier if Uchi could pretend Ryo wasn’t watching tears leak from his eyes. Uchi may be good enough actor to keep it from being too obvious but Ryo had years of experience picking up clues of Uchi’s from a four minutes phone conversation.
“What’s wrong? What’s really bothering you?” Ryo sighed, as if he was doing Uchi the biggest of favours listening to him whine.
“I’m just scared of being left behind again.” Uchi’s voice trembled losing part of his control. He quickly took two large gulp of air to calm down and passed a hand over his face as if wiping the frustrations away.
“Idiot. You won’t be.” Consoled Ryo, bumping his shoulder into Uchi’s, as much as Uchi needed a hug right now, Ryo kept his hands on his lap. After keeping their friendship alive through phone calls and texting it still felt surreal to be in the same room within hand’s reach.
“How do you know? Osen’s ratings weren't that good. Yours were better.”
Ryo winced, he couldn’t refute the truth and as much as he wanted to tell that Uchi had been good in his role, Ryo wasn’t sure Uchi would see his compliment as anything else but pity.
“Yours was better than Shige’s show.” Ryo settled for his comment, it was a safer territory.
“Shige can’t act.” Uchi snarked, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.
“Hey, if they give that idiot roles, I don’t see how you wouldn’t. You’re not suspended anymore. You’re going to have plenty of other roles. Try to cope…” Ryo trailed his voice and waited for Uchi to meet his eyes.
“Cope with what?” Uchi asked finally darting his glance sideways towards Ryo.
“With the fact that I’m going to be the better actor with the better rating in all of you.” Ryo declared smugly, leaning back on the couch and crossing his arms against his chest.
Uchi scoffed and looked elsewhere while Ryo’s eyes started to throw daggers.
“Isn’t Gokusen and the juniors that are getting the best ratings?” Uchi asked in feigned innocence, one fine eyebrow raising in question.
“Shut up!” Ryo yelled half angry, half joking. The mood felt lighter now and stomachs were starting to scream their hunger. Ryo left to re-enter the kitchen. He washed his hands before grabbing a knife and started to slice again.
“Wait, I get to cut the daikons. I know how.” Uchi hurried to grab the vegetable and settled to his own cutting board while Ryo resumed chopping his onion.
The pair prepared the rest of the meal in quasi silence, making a little comment there, while the radio played low to fill the rooms with sounds.
Ryo handed up with a lot more work than if he ate alone, the sink was filled with cutlery and dishes, the living room was a mess. Uchi had remembered at 10 o’clock in the evening that the next day was a 6 am shoot and he needed his full night of sleep. Ryo watched him go with a smile on his face before seeing the state of the kitchen.
Despite everything, Uchi had worn his place in Ryo’s life that no distance or time could erase.
Lifelong friends were like that.
Even the brats. Especially them.
But Uchi wasn’t a cook because of his drama any more than Ryo was a doctor or social worker because he played one on TV.
Koyama also meant well.
The mother hen of News had noticed that Ryo wasn’t really recovering from his last cold and was too tired to take care of himself. Koyama then told Shige who promptly visited Uchi’s dressing room to relay the message. Shige and Uchi had joked about how stubborn Ryo was sometimes, mocking the absentee with the glee of younger guys toward someone older.
But when Shige was ready to leave, Uchi simply said he would stop by Ryo’s place tonight and bring him dinner. Shige had smiled and texted Koyama as he walked back to his set. While an assistant applied a last touch-up on him before filming, Shige’s cellphone had a new message from his best friend; a giant pulsing yellow heart. Mission accomplished.
Uchi had texted Yamapi when he finished filming to ask when had Ryo left, he wanted to try to make it a surprise. The answer came quick (it was almost as if Yamapi had surgically fixed his cellphone to hand) Ryo had just gone to his Tokyo apartment and would be there shortly.
Ryo thought he could use that free evening (that wasn’t a Reccomen night when he would be disturbed at midnight to answer stupid questions) to rest. Though his voicemail was filled with offers to go out from his friends, he just wanted to crash on his bed to get rid definitely of the pounding headache that had tortured him for days.
He didn’t expect his doorbell to ring a mere 20 minutes after he arrived himself. And he especially didn’t expect Uchi to be standing in the hallway with a stupid grin and two plastic bags filled with food.
Yes Uchi meant well but he had barely mastered the art of laundry, cooking was on a whole other level.
Ryo was tempted to close the door in Uchi’s face (had it been anyone else say Jin he would have) but the excited puppy face the other was making was too cute. Ryo groaned, he had a weak spot for the kid, had one for years it wasn’t like it would disappear overnight.
Uchi went straight in the kitchen, unloading his purchases like he owned the place, whistling a nameless tune. Ryo’s kitchen barely had room enough to fit two people side by side, it was unthinkable to enter right now.
Uchi filled pots of water for something and prepared the rice cooker before declaring that things needed to boil for a while before they could properly cook. Ryo sighed like a mother watching her child prepare a meal for Mother’s Day before grabbing two beers and motioning the couch.
They started to drink in silence, Uchi on the couch, Ryo in his overstuffed chair that Tegoshi and Massu gave him for his birthday a year or two ago.
“So.” Began Uchi staring at Ryo with curiosity.
“So?” retorted Ryo shifting in his seat, wondering if something what was going on more than a simple dinner between friends.
“You look better than what Koyama and Shige said.” Uchi declared, not hiding one bit that this was a set up.
“What have those two morons told you?”
Uchi’s eyes gleamed with mischief while he laughed softly though, Ryo couldn’t tell at whom Uchi was laughing to.
“That you were sick from being overworked and that you probably had pneumonia or worse.” Uchi explained before taking a long gulp of beer.
“Morons, as if I haven’t been doing triple duty for years.” Ryo laughed, he’d been in the business for so long his body was used to a lot of crap he was putting it through.
A shadow passed on Uchi’s face but something Ryo couldn’t name and it unnerved him. Ryo could feel it in his guts that something was bothering Uchi (who despite being a loud mouth and usually was saying everything that was on his mind) that he couldn’t say out loud.
“What’s wrong?” Ryo asked leaning forward, Uchi’s eyes briefly gazed on him before staring at everything but him in the room. His gaze was on the lamp, his bottle of beer, the kitchen as if trying to find inspiration to change the subject.
“Nothing.” Uchi finally said as he peer at his watch with fake fascination.
“Hiroki, don’t give me your drama queen act. If you want to tell me something go ahead.” Ryo leaned back and waited. He knew that Uchi would say what was on his mind just by the faraway look in his eyes.
“You said…” Uchi’s voice trailed off before he breathed in deeply.
“Look it doesn’t matter, I’m here because you were sick and I wanted to make you dinner for a change.” Uchi straightened his shoulders looking far more mature, he even attempted a smile.
Ryo was torn. On one hand he was proud that Uchi was now more grateful for what he had and more hardworking and less of a spoiled brat. By on the other hand, he was a bit disappointed that Uchi was trying his bravado act on him. Ryo had seen Uchi in every spectrum of life; seen him sick, seen him cry, seen him sob, seen him yelled, seen him through every human emotion possible.
“What’s wrong?” Ryo asked again, thinking about it, he didn’t like the fact that Uchi wouldn’t tell him everything, it would feel like there was distance between them.
“I read an interview where you said that liked being the only Johnny’s that was in two bands.” Uchi admitted, shaking the beer bottle but not raising it to his lips.
“So?” Of all things to be angsting about, they both resolved every issues dealing with Uchi’s suspension through and through.
Ryo was starting to doubt it.
“I just wondered if it wasn’t true that you like being the only and you don’t want me back in either groups.” Uchi’s brown eyes were so hard as if knowing the answer already.
“That’s a load of crap! We want you to come back, all of us!” Ryo shouted feeling waves of anger and guilt, his voice didn’t quite match the same indignant tone he used over 2 years ago.
“I know! It just struck me in the interview.” Uchi defended, though his face showed that he did doubt Ryo’s reassurances. News was working so well as a 6 members band, they were all closer than before the suspension. Uchi barely had the patience to learn guitar for one song even Yasu had agreed to stop teaching him, where would be his place in an all instruments band with Murakami-kun playing piano and Kimi-kun playing bongos. Kanjani Eito’s songs weren’t so much about dance steps, “Master Key” seemed amateurish compared “BJ” or “Fuka Fuka”. Even “Eden” didn’t sound the same when he saw them at the Tokyo Dome.
“You know as well as I do how much crap we say in interviews!” Ryo chastised, his voice held a bit of desperation to change the subject that Uchi heard too well.
“Yes, I know. Forget I ask.” Uchi then took a long gulp of his beer.
The two sat, keeping their mouths shut but their minds reeling with hundred of things to say.
“You know it’d be nice to have you back.” Ryo repeated out loud after a while, the atmosphere felt heavy like a sky that would be overcast with a thunderstorm.
“Yeah, it’s just with Kusano leaving to New York. It really hit me that there’s no more chance of things being what they used to.” Uchi said slowly, Ryo’s face darkened hearing what Uchi left unsaid.
“And the manager didn’t tell me what I was doing next but most of you guys are being called for dramas. Even Subaru-kun and Murakami-kun have roles.”
Ryo rose and sat next to Uchi instead of across. Maybe the words would be let out easier if Uchi could pretend Ryo wasn’t watching tears leak from his eyes. Uchi may be good enough actor to keep it from being too obvious but Ryo had years of experience picking up clues of Uchi’s from a four minutes phone conversation.
“What’s wrong? What’s really bothering you?” Ryo sighed, as if he was doing Uchi the biggest of favours listening to him whine.
“I’m just scared of being left behind again.” Uchi’s voice trembled losing part of his control. He quickly took two large gulp of air to calm down and passed a hand over his face as if wiping the frustrations away.
“Idiot. You won’t be.” Consoled Ryo, bumping his shoulder into Uchi’s, as much as Uchi needed a hug right now, Ryo kept his hands on his lap. After keeping their friendship alive through phone calls and texting it still felt surreal to be in the same room within hand’s reach.
“How do you know? Osen’s ratings weren't that good. Yours were better.”
Ryo winced, he couldn’t refute the truth and as much as he wanted to tell that Uchi had been good in his role, Ryo wasn’t sure Uchi would see his compliment as anything else but pity.
“Yours was better than Shige’s show.” Ryo settled for his comment, it was a safer territory.
“Shige can’t act.” Uchi snarked, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.
“Hey, if they give that idiot roles, I don’t see how you wouldn’t. You’re not suspended anymore. You’re going to have plenty of other roles. Try to cope…” Ryo trailed his voice and waited for Uchi to meet his eyes.
“Cope with what?” Uchi asked finally darting his glance sideways towards Ryo.
“With the fact that I’m going to be the better actor with the better rating in all of you.” Ryo declared smugly, leaning back on the couch and crossing his arms against his chest.
Uchi scoffed and looked elsewhere while Ryo’s eyes started to throw daggers.
“Isn’t Gokusen and the juniors that are getting the best ratings?” Uchi asked in feigned innocence, one fine eyebrow raising in question.
“Shut up!” Ryo yelled half angry, half joking. The mood felt lighter now and stomachs were starting to scream their hunger. Ryo left to re-enter the kitchen. He washed his hands before grabbing a knife and started to slice again.
“Wait, I get to cut the daikons. I know how.” Uchi hurried to grab the vegetable and settled to his own cutting board while Ryo resumed chopping his onion.
The pair prepared the rest of the meal in quasi silence, making a little comment there, while the radio played low to fill the rooms with sounds.
Ryo handed up with a lot more work than if he ate alone, the sink was filled with cutlery and dishes, the living room was a mess. Uchi had remembered at 10 o’clock in the evening that the next day was a 6 am shoot and he needed his full night of sleep. Ryo watched him go with a smile on his face before seeing the state of the kitchen.
Despite everything, Uchi had worn his place in Ryo’s life that no distance or time could erase.
Lifelong friends were like that.
Even the brats. Especially them.