Gift fic for changetje
To: changetje
From: acchikocchi
SEASON'S GREETINGS!
Title: All Around (1/2)
Pairing/Group: Jin/Kame, Jun/Aiba, Subaru/Yasu, others mentioned or implied.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: AU (and how). Minor kpop cameo. Please excuse all liberties taken with: the Japanese political system, ichthyology, the Tokyo Disneyland hiring process, and/or the West Coast hip-hop scene. They are legion.
Notes: With apologies to Richard Curtis and company. Deepest thanks to Koizumi Kyoko, Oguri Shun, and Ayase Haruka for their suggestions, proofreading help, and general cheerleading.
Summary: JE does Love Actually.
TRANSCRIPT
AUGUST 30, 2009
NTV SPECIAL NEWS PROGRAM ZERO x SENKYO 2009
MURAO: ...coming to you live on election night, this is NTV's Zero x Senkyo 2009. This is Murao Nobutaka, and joining me tonight are Shimada Shinsuke and Sakurai Sho. The first round of ballots from today's elections for the National Diet's House of Representatives have been counted and the preliminary results are shocking. As many predicted, the Liberal Democratic Party appears on the brink of the House for only the second time in fifty-five years - but in stark contrast to the results predicted by almost every single pre-election poll, the new victor looks not to be Hatoyama Yukio's Democratic Party of Japan but a little-known fringe party that until weeks ago boasted a mere handful of candidates. Sakurai-kun, what can you tell us about this new - excuse the pun - "surprise" party?
SAKURAI: Of course we must emphasize these results are only preliminary and may not indicate the final outcome of the election, but the Happiness Realization Party's sudden leap in popularity is boggling politicians and political scientists alike. Even the Tokyo municipal elections in early July - which as we know are generally considered a fairly reliable gauge of general election trends - failed to predict the HRP's ascendance, as they stood no candidates.
SHIMADA: Fascinating.
MURAO: Indeed.
SAKURAI: Naturally, everyone's scrambling for information on what was previously considered at best a mere fringe party and at worst a group of, well, lunatics. So far credit seems to lie with an unusually penetrating and widespread viral marketing campaign as well as increased voter turnout among residents of Tokyo's Akihabara ward and women of all ages, blocs that voted nearly unanimously for the HRP. Street interviews with individuals who self-identified as HRP voters indicate strong personal support for party leader A -
MURAO: Excuse me, Sakurai-kun, I'm receiving a message... [pause] It's official. Breaking news: Prime Minister Aso, on behalf of the Liberal Democratic Party, has conceded - for the first time in history, the Happiness Realization Party has swept the Lower House and the new Prime Minister of Japan is party leader Akanishi Jin.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
NOVEMBER 20
Takki looked at Tsubasa. Tsubasa looked at Takki.
"No," they said in perfect unison.
"It's so heartwarming to see you finally agree on something," said their manager. "It's a shame I don't care. Come on. Out."
"Fuck," Takki said succintly as they got out of the company van, to which Tsubasa could only agree. Not that he was going to say so. It was his own personal promise to himself never to let Takki know he was right, something he liked to pull out to mull over and mentally cherish whenever the urge to throttle his so-called partner got too strong.
"I think it's going to rain," he said instead, moodily, eyeing the steely sky.
"Aren't you a ray of sunshine today," Takki sniped, at which point they reached the door of the recording studio and their manager gave them each an elbow in the side, muttering, "Best behavior or you'll be singing your next single soprano."
They rolled their eyes simultaneously, and then glared at each other. Their manager heaved a big sight and then, plastering a smile on his face, pushed open the door.
They were greeted with a high-pitched roar. Tsubasa's eyes crossed. They were trapped in a sea - no, an ocean of preteen girls. School uniforms. Braids. Squeals. He was going to lose his hearing. Oh god.
A piercing whistle cut through the clamor and, miraculously, the squealing (mostly) ceased. Tsubasa shook his head briefly, to clear it.
"Girls, girls, quietly." Somewhere, somehow, an adult had materialized from the seething masses of schoolgirlhood, an older woman with masses of artificially black hair and heavy blue eyeshadow. She was smiling at them a little... predatorily. "How nice to meet you, gentlemen."
"Our pleasure," Takki said smoothly, gracing her with a charming smile.
Was she giving Tsubasa the eye? Surreptitiously - he hoped - he edged backward.
"Let me introduce you," their manager interjected. "Boys, may I present Miss Mori Mitsuko and the Ochanomizu Girls' Junior High School Chorus." He gestured to the sea of uniforms with a wide sweep of his arm and the squealing returned full force. "Ladies, Imai Tsubasa - " Tsubasa waved, worrying distantly that the grin plastered on his face might crack it " - and Takizawa Hideaki." Takki dropped the girls a wink, and the squealing jumped another decibel. Takki's eyes slid towards Tsubasa and the corner of his mouth curled up in a nearly undetectable smirk. Tsubasa continued to smile for all he was worth.
"Now," their manager said, all genial smiles. "Shall we begin recording?"
More squeals.
There was no question about it. Tsubasa was in hell.
NOVEMBER 24
"Well," Jin said brightly. "I think that went well."
Yamapi's head met the table with an audible thunk. "No, Jin. No, that did not go well. What did I tell you beforehand?"
"Not to refer to myself as The Boss in front of heads of state," Jin said promptly.
Yamapi opened his mouth, and then closed it again. "You're right. I did tell you that. And you haven't yet. Very good. What else did I tell you?"
"Not to open my mouth for anything other than conversation?"
Yamapi's fingers crept up to massage his temples. "Yes. That, too. Though now I'm thinking maybe it should have been the other way around. What else?"
Jin looked shifty. "Not to... play cell phone games during cabinet meetings...?"
There was an awful silence. "No," Yamapi said eventually. "No, I didn't say that, and I'll pretend you didn't say it either because I know even you wouldn't consider something like that." He took a deep breath. "No," he repeated, "what I said was not to piss off Korea!"
"Oh," said Jin. "Right."
"This is one of our key policy changes! Cultivate good relations with Korea, a valuable trading partner and heir to the same rich cultural heritage that influenced Japan - " Yamapi cut himself off and took a deep breath. Unconsciously reciting campaign materials was usually a sign he was getting too stressed.
"I don't like their ambassador," Jin said sullenly. "He reminds me of Ryo. We don't need more than one Ryo."
"Of course you don't," Yamapi sighed.
"Besides," Jin continued, "the Americans like me."
"They like you because you like them - you like them so much you're not pushing for closure of any of the military bases because you like going down there to chat with the soldiers about Justin Timberlake!"
"There's nothing wrong with intercultural exchange," Jin said loftily.
At that fortuitous moment, a knock sounded on the door.
Thank god. Yamapi was ready devour an entire herd of livestock. More and more frequently, snack time was all that got him through the day, a state of affairs that really didn't bear thinking about. Fortunately, in Prime Minister Akanishi's residence, snack time was early and often.
"Come in," he called, and the door opened.
After the unfortunate incident with the young woman and the aphrodisiac-spiked curry, Yamapi had been sure to screen all the residence employees personally - which was why he took in the sight of an unfamiliar young man rolling the heavily laden snack cart in with surprise and no small amount of alarm. He cleared his throat, and the cart and its handler immediately stopped. The young man looked up.
"I'm sorry," Yamapi said pleasantly, with an undertone of menace, "I don't think we've met."
The young man straightened his shoulders and executed an exceedingly correct bow. "It's a pleasure to meet you. My name's Kamenashi, I was recommended by Nishikido-san...?'
Aha. Yamapi remembered the application now; on the strength of Ryo's recommendation he'd approved it without a personal interview. "Right, of course," he said, and modulated his smile from threatening to friendly. "Sorry about that. Nice to have you with us, Kamenashi. I'm Yamashita, chief of staff, and you know who this is - " He turned to Jin.
Jin was staring.
"Sorry," Jin said with a warm and heartfelt smile, the sort of smile that wrung votes from impressionable women like tears from Korean soap opera fans, "what did you say your name was? Kamenashi?"
Kamenashi nodded with a terribly earnest expression. "It's an honor to meet you, Prime Minister." Oh no. He probably respected the political system and the office of the prime minister and read up on current events and voted in every election. There was no way this could end well.
"Kamenashi," Jin said. "Do you have a nickname?"
Kamenashi looked understandably taken aback. "Um. Some of my friends call me Kame?"
"Can I?" Jin asked. "I like to cultivate friendly relations with my staff."
"Um," Kamenashi repeated. He blinked once. "If you'd like. Sir."
"Great." Jin was still smiling. "Thank you, Kame. I look forward to talking with you again."
Kamenashi apparently took that as a dismissal and backed out of the room, a hesitant smile on his face. Yamapi waited until the door snicked shut, and then lunged.
Jin yelped and scrabbled backward but not quickly enough; Yamapi grabbed a handful of Jin's shirt collar and held on tight. "Akanishi Jin," he hissed, "if you so much as suggest - no, if you even think about suggesting - "
"I didn't do anything! I didn't - argh let me go!"
"I've known you practically longer than your own mother, and I know what you're thinking, and if after everything Ryo and I did for that campaign you get yourself thrown out of office on a sexual harassment scandal so help me God - "
"I can't breathe!"
Yamapi loosened his grip slightly and Jin took a wheezing gulp of air. "Promise me," Yamapi pressed, giving Jin a little shake.
"Fine," Jin said sulkily. "Fine. I promise."
Yamapi stared him in the eye. Jin stared back, unblinking. With a deep release of breath, Yamapi let go and returned to his seat. "Right," he said. "Let's eat."
If he'd looked at Jin's left hand, casually tucked behind the heavy wooden chair, he would have seen two fingers, crossed.
NOVEMBER 27
"...can you believe that quote from the press conference last week? I swear he thinks the Diet is a national weight loss initiative, we're going to wake up and find he's declared a personal dictatorship. Where's Sho? Didn't he cover..."
"...heard about Ohno's exhibition, when's it going open..."
Jun had had just enough wine to feel a pleasant, warm buzz; he surveyed the (newly) joint Ninomiya-Ohno apartment through a haze of contentment he'd have been forced to disown in the cold light of day. Sho was talking to a well-coiffed young woman Jun didn't know, accompanying whatever the subject of their fervent conversation was - even odds it was the new administration - with a series of increasingly impassioned gestures. Ninomiya was across the room, chatting with an actor Jun vaguely recognized. Ohno had an arm around Ninomiya's waist. He probably didn't even realize it.
Jun was terribly afraid his expression was closer to disgustingly fond than, well, disgusted. All the people Jun cared about most (and he would have the balls of anyone who tried to make him admit it), all in one place. Almost.
He checked his watch. Almost midnight; he could probably slip away. The buzz of conversation followed him to the entryway as he unearthed his coat (black camelhair, full length) and shoes (Zegna) from the pile
"I thought I could hear dozens of tiny animals crying for vengeance," said a voice behind him.
Jun turned. "You are sold separately," he said in mock surprise, with his special Ninomiya-reserved grin.
Nino gave him the finger. Jun cuffed Nino on the shoulder harder than was strictly necessary, to make up for the excessive feeling earlier.
"Ow," Nino complained. "I bruise easily. So what's the hurry? You always stick around 'til we kick you out."
Jun would have to play it carefully. "Oh," he said, faux-casual. "I've just got this thing - "
Nino immediately looked suspicious. "What kind of a 'thing'? More important than your oldest friends?" He narrowed his eyes, and a grin that could only be described as "shit-eating" spread across his face.
Shit. "No," Jun said quickly - god, why was he such an awful liar - "it's this thing for work - "
"You filthy liar," Nino said gleefully. "Who is he? Tell me or I'll go get Satoshi right now."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Jun said, hastily pulling on his coat, "and I have to go now anyway. Thanks for the party."
"I'll find out," Nino promised. "You know I will."
"I'll see you next week," Jun said loudly and made his way very quickly to the door.
"I'll be waiting," Nino caroled. Jun heard him turn to go back to into the apartment.
"Oi, Ninomiya," he said. Nino turned.
Jun smiled, a real smile, the kind he wasn't allowed to use for work because they showed all his teeth and everything. "Congratulations."
Nino shrugged. The corners of his mouth crept up anyway. "Thanks," he said. The door shut.
Sometime during the party it had started to drizzle. Jun tightened the purple cashmere scarf - a freebie from work - around his neck and felt absurdly cheerful. He was getting maudlin, he told himself sternly. It must be because Christmas was approaching. He loved Christmas in all its glitzy commercialized romantic saccharine glory. Maybe this year - No, he was getting ahead of himself. It was a casual thing, he reminded himself, and no one had said anything about something more than - well - that night - Oh god, he was blushing like a thirteen-year-old.
Jun made sure his knock was soft. The wrap party for Hiro's show had been earlier that night, and if he'd come home to crash now that filming was over - or if he hadn't returned yet - Jun didn't want to disturb -
The door swung open to reveal Oguri Shun.
They regarded each other in equal puzzlement.
"Jun," Shun said after a minute. "Hi."
"Shun," Jun answered, still confused. "Nice to see you. Can I...?" He gestured at the entryway.
Shun blinked. "Sure. Sorry." He stood aside and Jun stepped up into the entryway.
"Sorry," Shun said, rubbing a hand across the back of his head. "I was just surprised to see you here so late, that's all. What time is it, midnight?"
"Just after." Shun was looking at him expectantly. Jun cleared his throat. "Well, he said, fully aware his casual voice was not sounding casual one bit. "I, see, Hiro and I - that is, it's kind of - " He broke off as he realized he was perilously close to babbling.
Shun was staring at him. "You have got to be kidding me."
"I'm sorry?"
"No, sorry, it's nothing - really, you are? That's great. Really." Shun edged around him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to act so surprised. Hiro never said anything."
"Yeah," Jun said, feeling - damn it! - the corners of his mouth creeping upward, "it's not official or anything - I mean, it's not a thing at all, just - "
"Right," said Shun. "I totally understand. Well, I just came by to pick up this thing I borrowed from Hiro and now I've got it, so I'd better head off now, it's getting late - " He broke off at the sound of unsteady footsteps.
Jun recognized the sound of Hiro's laughter before Hiro himself tumbled into the hall. His dress shirt was half unbuttoned and there was a bright red mark on his collarbone. He didn't even seem to notice Jun. "Shun," he purred, "what's keeping you?"
Jun's bag hit the floor.
NOVEMBER 30
Kame found the bar and made his way to where Nakamaru and Koki were waiting in a daze. "Kame, my man!" Koki beamed. "How's it hanging?"
"The Prime Minister remembered my name," Kame said. "My nickname."
"Kame," Nakamaru said, "you're the smart one, talk some sense into this lunatic. He's been babbling about Los Angeles and ice cubes, I don't know where he got this idea - "
"Ice Cube," Koki interrupted witheringly. "You believe in me, right, Kame? I've totally got what it takes to hang on the West Coast, I know it. I mean, the Tokyo scene is so lame - "
"Wait until you hear about his tattoos. Just wait."
Koki flushed bright red. "You going to tell everyone about that? I never should have taken you to the parlor, Jesus."
"Oh, don't even start with me, you needed someone to hold your hand - and now my eyes are never going to heal - "
"Don't listen to anything he says, Kame, he's just jealous I'm headed for the sweet life. Okay, Kame? Kame?" Koki waved a hand in front of Kame's face.
Kame blinked twice and looked at them curiously. "What were you saying?"
DECEMBER 1
"Attention, temporary cast members. Please proceed to room 38A for registration and assignments. Attention, temporary cast members. Please proceed to room 38A for registration and assignments.
Room 38A had been easy to find; it was the one disgorging a winding line of college students and 20-something-year-olds with headphones and dyed hair and silver jewelry. Subaru longed for his own headphones; he had been waiting patiently for almost half and hour, and the music blaring over the loudspeaker was - of course - gratingly cheerful instrumental arrangements of popular Disney tunes. He was never going to think of "Under the Sea" with the same childhood nostalgia again.
"Next!"
At last. The man behind the desk had to be the same age as Subaru, if not younger, but in stark contrast to the rest of the room he was possibly the most normal man Subaru had ever seen. Subaru eyed his sweater vest. The initials "Y. N." were stitched neatly over where the left breast pocket would be.
"I.D., please?"
Subaru handed his ID over. Y. N. squinted at it. "Shibutani... Shibutani..." He ran his forefinger down a sheet of paper until it came to a stop halfway down. "Ah. Shibutani. Wait just a minute." He raised his voice. "Number 45, Yasuda? Yasuda Shota?"
"Here!" A hand waved from the other side of the room and suddenly a young man materialized in front of Subaru in a whirl of blond hair, colorful beads, and an outfit that Subaru had definitely never seen on Omotesando.
"Yasuda, Shibutani. Shibutani, Yasuda," said Y. N. "You'll be working together. Here's your assignment." He handed them each a colorful printed card.
Subaru looked down. A cartoon mouse looked back up at him.
"Really?" Yasuda said next to him. "Great!" Subaru glanced over. Sure enough, the mouse on Yasuda's card was wearing a red and white polka-dotted hair ribbon.
Subaru looked at Yasuda's face in disbelief.
"No questions?" Y. N. said, clearly eager to get rid of them. "Great. Wait on the other side of the room for your casting call, please, and you'll be measured for costumes and given further instructions." He gave them a brief perfunctory smile. "Welcome to Tokyo Disney."
The moment they reach the waiting area, Yasuda turned and gave him a smile that lit up his whole face. "So," he said. "We'll be working together. Hi!" He stuck out his hand, Western-style.
"Oh, uh - " Subaru shook the proffered hand awkwardly. "Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you, Shibutani-san," Yasuda said with every appearance of sincerity. "You're from Osaka, too?"
"Yeah," Subaru said softly, "I moved here a few months ago."
Yasuda beamed. "Me, too! Where did you - " He was interrupted by the intercom.
"Attention. Mickeys and Minnies, please proceed to room 34 for costume fittings. Mickeys and Minnies, room 34."
Subaru exchanged a glance with Yasuda. Yasuda smiled cheerfully at him with no appearance of self-consciousness whatsoever. "That's us," he said.
"You really don't mind, Yasuda-san?" Subaru said dubiously.
"I really don't," Yasuda confirmed. "And call me Yasu, everyone does."
"Then," Subaru said, gathering his courage, "please call me Subaru."
Yasuda - Yasu - winked at him. "Sure."
DECEMBER 2
"But what about the pasta?" Jin asked.
His staff exchanged glances.
"All right," Yamapi said briskly. "It's been a busy morning, why don't we take a break?" He pressed a button next to the table - he could hear a faint buzz sounding through the door - and leaned back in his chair, rolling his shoulders slowly and examining the Prime Minister's personal staff.
Ryo was looking at him across the table, a certain amount of pleading evident in his expression. It was undoubtedly taking all of his willpower not to open his mouth. Yamapi shook his head, and Ryo made a face but stayed quiet. Next to Ryo, Shige was tapping furiously at his BlackBerry and across from Shige, on Yamapi's other side, Yokoyama appeared to be doing deep breath exercises.
Their Prime Minister was flipping through a volume of Hetalia: Axis Powers.
That explained the pasta at least. Yamapi closed his eyes; there was a persistent pounding at his temples that wouldn't seem to go away. The Asia-Pacific relations summit was in ten days' time and he was no more certain Jin wouldn't open his mouth and torpedo years of diplomatic negotiations with a single well-placed sentence than he had been three months ago. There'd better be cream puffs on the snack cart today. That was possibly the only thing that would get him through the morning.
The door opened.
"Hi, Kame," Jin said with another of the smiles Shige had likened to a guided missile.
The sheer force of it seemed to pin Kamenashi in place for a moment, before he recovered himself. "Good morning," he said, glancing up with a tentative return smile as he uncovered the cart. "Er, good morning, sir. Sorry."
Jin's eyes crinkled at the corners. "Hm? Oh, you don't have to call me that. How's your day going?"
"My day?" Kamenashi paused for another fraction of a second, and resumed his duties with what appeared to Yamapi to be a modicum of uncertainty. "Fine? How - how's yours?"
"Oh, it's going great," Jin said breezily. "We're accomplishing a ton, aren't we?" The staff murmured appropriately inaudible responses. "See," he continued, "another busy day of legislating!"
Yamapi felt an iron grip on his arm. Yokoyama was staring at him with horror in his eyes.
It's fine, he mouthed, even though it very clearly wasn't.
Kamenashi's brow was furrowed. "But the Prime Minister's office doesn't propose legislation...?"
Jin laughed airily. "Right. Just a joke. We're busy with the summit right now, you know, next week's - "
" - on relations within the Asia-Pacific region, right, of course," Kamenashi said, nodding quickly. "I'm excited to see the results - this is going to provide some really ground-breaking opportunities for the new administration - anyway." He cleared his throat and backed toward the door. "Um. Do your best. Please enjoy your refreshment."
At the door, Kamenashi paused.
Jin beamed at him. "Need something else?"
"Well - you know," Kamenashi said diffidently. "If you're thinking of promoting public interest in international relations through popular literature - " he gestured at the Hetalia volume lying forgotten on the table, "you might want to consider expanding into other current issues, too. There's some great resources out there, like Kawasumi Hiroshi's work on judicial reform - " At that moment, he seemed to realize the room was staring at him, and immediately flushed a deep red. "Just a suggestion," he murmured, and looked at his shoes.
"No," Jin said, eyes bright. "I think that's great. What was that name?"
Kamenashi risked a glance up. "Um, Kawasumi Hiroshi? I could make a list," he said in a rush.
Jin was beaming. "That would be great," he said. "I'll check them all out myself. Thanks, Kame, that's awes - I mean, this could be a great help."
"Oh," Kamenashi said faintly, "it's nothing. Um. Have a good day." To Yamapi's complete and utter horror, there was the faintest tinge of pink to Kamenashi's cheeks. Or maybe he was imagining it. Please god let him be imagining it.
The moment the door closed behind the snack cart, four voices rose as one.
"Akanishi!"
"What?" Jin said, wounded. And then, "Someone's going to find me this manga, right?"
DECEMBER 4
Warm sun beat down on his face. The breeze wafted delicate tropical fragrances past his nose. On either side of him rose a stand of shady palms; before him, pristine white sand stretched down to a crescent of calm blue-green ocean. In the distance, breakers rolled.
Jun was not impressed.
He adjusted his sunglasses (Prada, oversize) and scowled as he sipped his guava daquiri. Everyone said Guam would be a perfect change from the miserable weather plaguing Tokyo. Nino's friend Masami lent him her private vacation estate. Nino and Ohno drove him to the airport. There were lots of smiles and manful pats on the shoulder and attempts at hugs.
Ugh. Why had everyone had to tiptoe around like he was made of glass, honestly, it wasn't like there was anything to feel sorry about, he'd had a little fling and now it was over and he hadn't even told anyone in the first place so how did they even know.
He couldn't even stay in Guam until Christmas was over and done with. Christmas was a miserable holiday.
Sunk in a black cloud, it was a minute before Jun registered the sound of approaching voices, or the purr of an approaching motor. He sat upright, sliding his sunglasses up, and squinted at the bay.
The boat was unremarkable - a little white motorboat emblazoned, incongruously, Simba - but its passengers less so. They were clearly a television crew - Jun counted two live cameras, another sitting unused atop a pile of technical gear, the two attendant camera, a couple of tech assistants, and a small knot of what had to be production staff. All attention seemed focused on a slim shape leaning over the side of the boat.
As Jun stood up to approach them, the motor cut out and the crew fell silent.
From the edge of the beach, Jun could make out the crew more clearly. The shape resolved into a young man about Jun's age, wearing the most intent expression Jun had ever seen and.. talking to the fish? That couldn't be. As the boat drifted closer, his voice suddenly carried clearly.
"...not rare, but beautiful anyways," the young man was narrating in a hushed voice. "Look at the star-shaped markings on her right fin. Isn't she cute? Here, let's zoom in a little bit more - "
The young man leaned over. Jun raised an involuntary hand and found himself opening his mouth in warning -
In the blink of an eye, there was a yell, a brief flail of limbs, a loud splash - and the young man disappeared from sight. The air of concentration vanished, and a ripple of laughter ran through the crew. "Aiba-kun, not again," someone called. One of the cameramen sat back, stretching, and the other leaned over to peer into the bay. No one seemed particularly worried.
In seconds, the young man surfaced spluttering and shaking his head like a dog. "She's gone," he said, expression woebegone. "I must have scared her away."
Another wave of laughter. "Don't worry, Aiba-kun," said a woman with a clipboard and a sleek pair of sunglasses, "I'm sure we'll have another encounter soon. And we did get some excellent footage."
"I thought she liked me," the young man - Aiba? - said sadly, treading water.
"In the meantime," the woman said, raising her voice, "break for lunch, this looks like a nice little place - " She turned toward the beach, and caught sight of Jun.
Jun placed his hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow.
He was uncomfortably aware that deep purple swim trunks and feathered flip-flops did exactly contribute to a forbidding image, but the pose appeared to have sufficient effect. The woman exchanged a speaking glance with the boat's pilot - also Japanese, Jun could see, and likely part of the production crew - and the boat nosed its way toward the beach.
"Wait for me?" came Aiba's voice from its wake.
The boat nudged up on the sandy beach. Jun waited for the pilot to jump out and steady it and the clipboard woman to disembark before saying, in his most haughty voice, "May I ask what business you have here?"
The woman's lips formed a perfect, glossy "o". A second later, they curved in an ingratiating smile. "I'm so sorry," she said. "Please excuse our intrusion. Is this your property? I represent Nippon Television's 'A to Z Around The World Natural Zoo' program - we're filming a series of episodes on location in Guam and this is really a perfect location, perhaps you might consider - "
"Oh, you're Japanese, too!" Something hurled itself up the beach. Jun caught a flash of wet hair and brown skin as several drops of water splattered him in the face. Someone was gripping his hand. Jun blinked several times.
When he refocused, he was greeted with the brightest, most dazzling smile he had ever seen.
"Nice to meet you," its owner said breathlessly. "I'm Aiba Masaki, have you seen our show?"
Aiba's fingers were calloused, and his grip was very warm. Jun took an involuntary step backward. "I'm sorry?"
"NTV, Wednesday afternoon at four. A for Aiba, that's me, Z for Zoo. You'll check it out back in Japan, right?"
Aiba's eyes pleaded earnestly. Jun found himself nodding.
"Great!" Aiba beamed. "You don't mind if we use footage from your beach, do you? It won't show anything other than the fish, promise."
"It's not mine," Jun finally managed to get out. "It belongs to a friend. She's back in Japan, and I'm not sure how she'd feel about her property - " He broke off. Aiba was staring at him imploringly.
"I could call her," Jun said finally, and Aiba's face immediately creased with delight.
"Thank you!" he exclaimed, squeezing Jun's captive hand with both his own. "Thank you so much! This is going to be great! This is going to be the best episode! Maybe the sea turtles - " Apparently struck with an idea, he released Jun's hand and dashed back toward the boat. Jun watched him go, dazed.
"He's awfully convincing, isn't he," the woman said drily.
Jun's spine stiffened. "Good luck with your filming," he said coolly and marched away with as much dignity as he could muster.
DECEMBER 5
A familiar pair of shoes were lined up neatly in the entryway. Shoes that belonged to neither Shige nor Koyama. Shige stared at them and then, for just a second, leaned his forehead against the wall and wondered what he'd done to deserve his life. Then he kicked off his own shoes and went inside.
"Shige!" Koyama beamed from where he sat on the floor cradling a video game controller. "Welcome back!"
"Shige!" Tegoshi beamed from next to Koyama. "Long time no see!"
"I'm back," Shige muttered. "Hi. 'S been a while." He dropped his briefcase unceremoniously by the door and headed for the kitchen, pulling his tie loose as he did so.
"Shige?" Koyama's voice floated after him. "Are you all right?"
They did have beer. Thank god. Shige pulled a can from the refrigerator and took a long, long drink before he answered. "Yeah," he said at last. "Long day. As usual."
When he returned to the living room Koyama was watching him with concern written all over his face. "Maybe you should take a day off," he said. "Stress can make you sick."
"Can stupidity make you sick?" Shige said acidly. "Because that's what I'm dealing with all day. Every day." He took another long drink.
"Aren't you working for the new administration?" Tegoshi interjected. Shige slanted a glance at him. He looked innocently curious, which meant he was anything but.
"That's right," Shige answered against his better judgement. "An old classmate who was part of the campaign asked me to join the prime minister's staff. I couldn't really say no."
Tegoshi's gaze sharpened. "Not Yamashita Tomohisa?"
Shige sat up. "No," he said suspiciously. "Nishikido Ryo. But how do you know Yamashita?"
Tegoshi's expression dissolved, once again, into angelic sweetness. "I like to follow politics. It's part of being a good citizen."
Shige was not convinced one bit but something told him he would probably be happier not knowing. He contented himself with raising an eyebrow and settling back into the couch as Koyama praised Tegoshi's civic virtue. He was so ready for this day to be over. Maybe Tegoshi go home early, and Koyama would take pity on him and make dinner, and then afterwards they'd find out Tegoshi had suddenly discover a valuable internship opportunity in Africa. He lost himself in this happy fantasy for a moment.
"Shige," Koyama said in the cajoling tone he only hauled out when Shige was in an especially awful mood, usually before producing some kind of placating treat. It also, unfailingly, induced in Shige a niggling tendril of guilt.
Shige rolled his head over. Koyama's were full of earnestness. "I bet you'd feel better if you relaxed and did something fun with us..."
Shige's brain had just enough time to reverse gear and process the warning signals before Koyama went on, voice bubbling with enthusiasm. "Guess what Tegoshi brought?" Koyama didn't wait for Shige to answer. "Karaoke!"
DECEMBER 7
"Good morning, Jun-kun!"
Jun gave Aiba a little smile - no one, he'd quickly discovered, could avoid smiling at Aiba - and waved. He'd taken to wandering down to the beach first thing in the morning with a nice cold tropical smoothie in hand. It was much more pleasant before the sun got too high, after all. The afternoon was nice, too. And, Jun told the specter of Ninomiya in his head, he'd been sent here to enjoy the ocean so he was damn well going to enjoy the ocean. It had nothing to do with the company. At all.
"Good morning, Matsumoto-san," Shibata-san - clipboard woman and, Jun had found, executive producer - echoed. "Another beautiful day."
"Morning," Jun said, and strolled over to where Aiba was squinting at what appeared to be the day's shooting schedule. He peered over Aiba's shoulder and said teasingly, "What are you going to find today?"
"I think you're making fun of me, Jun-kun," Aiba said seriously. "But! Today we're going to find spinner dolphins and sea turtles."
Aiba had mentioned sea turtles before. Jun had the vague idea this wasn't nesting season - did they call them nests? - or mating season, or whenever it was that sea turtles came out of the water, but he wasn't going to say so. If he knew that, the undoubtedly so did Aiba.
"Dolphins?" he said instead. "Here?"
"We're going out to the ocean today," Aiba explained. "We'll have to leave Simba here but there's another boat all ready and we're going to meet the dolphins and maybe find something else, too."
"Oh," Jun said, and relentlessly quashed the immediate rush of disappointment. "Well. Have fun."
This was met with silence. Jun glanced over. Aiba's eyes, watching him, were slowly widening.
"What," Jun said uneasily.
"Jun-kun," Aiba said in a hushed voice. "I have an idea." He gestured for Jun to lean in.
Jun leaned in.
Aiba said, "Want to be my assistant?"
Jun's mouth fell open.
Aiba bounced upright. "You don't do anything but sit around on the beach all day, right? You could come out on the boat with us, and see the dolphins - there are manatees, too, and sometimes they see humpbacks, wait until you see them, they're huge."
"I," Jun started, and stopped in the face of Aiba's expectant expression.
"You'd be really good at it, I bet. And it would be more fun with you."
"But my agency," Jun said helplessly.
Shibata-san swooped like a hawk. Jun hadn't even "Your agency? You're an actor?"
He was cornered. "A model," he said reluctantly. "M.A.D. Productions."
"Really," she said, eyes gleaming. "Do you happen to have their number with you?"
Jun looked at Aiba. Aiba was nodding at him encouragingly, like nothing so much as a very large puppy. Jun didn't even like puppies.
He took the offered clipboard and wrote down their number.
Shibata-san gave him a shark-like smile and strolled away, already opening her cell. Jun was left with the uncomfortable feeling he'd just been played like a violin. Aiba was practically vibrating in place. "Wow," he repeated. "This is going to be great. The dolphins will like you, I can tell."
Despite his best efforts, Jun said, "How can you tell."
"Because I like you," said Aiba with a puzzled smile, like it was the most obvious answer, ever. "Come on, we have to get you a wetsuit!" He grabbed Jun's arm and tugged.
Helpless, Jun followed.
DECEMBER 8
Kame was going to be late for work. He was never late for work. Shit, shit, shit, he repeated silently to himself as he fumbled for his ID card, waving it at the security check. They waved him through and he pelted up the walk to the service entrance, already envisioning Yamashita's face at the snack cart's late arrival. He took the stairs in two bounds, slipped inside, rounded the corner to the kitchen -
The supervisor of the house staff was waiting with crossed arms. "Kamenashi," she began.
"I apologize for my lateness, excuse me, sorry, be right back - " Kame snagged the early morning snack cart and careened out of the kitchen before she could do more than watch him go, open-mouthed.
He stopped in front of the door to the Prime Minister's meeting room. Deep breath. Kame tucked back his hair, smoothed his shirt, straightened up, took another deep breath and tried a polite smile. Then, a model of decorum, he gave the door a precise rap and swung it opened.
And, once inside, stopped still.
The Prime Minister was leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up on the table, crossed at the ankles, to all appearances fast asleep.
Kame froze. A corner of his traitorous mind couldn't help noting every detail of Akanishi's sleeping face, his relaxed mouth. But it lost so much of its brightness with his eyes closed -
No. No, Kame was not going there, that was whole new worlds of not going to happen.
At that moment, the Prime Minister yawned, and sat up. He blinked once, twice, and stretched -
"Excuse me, sir," Kame croaked, before he did something extraordinarily stupid.
Prime Minister Akanishi bolted straight upright and made a sound that - that almost sounded like a yelp. "I-was-studying-Pi-really-I-was-look-right-here- " He broke off and squinted at Kame. "You're not Yamapi."
"Um. No," said Kame. "I'm Kamenashi."
"I know," the Prime Minister said. "Kame. I remember. Uh. Sorry about that. I fell asleep reading..." He waved a vague hand at an uneven stack of papers on the table and looked around him with a certain air of confusion. "What time is it?"
"Just after nine," Kame said. "I'm very sorry, I know I'm late - "
Akanishi furrowed his brow. "Nine in the morning?"
"Yes, it's - have you been here all night?" Akanishi looked extraordinarily guilty. "Sir! What - I'm so sorry, someone should have - I can't imagine what - "
"It's not their fault," Akanishi said. "I told all the house staff not to disturb me because I had work to do. I don't know if they believed me, though," he said, and winked. The part of Kame that wasn't hyperventilating over impending unemployment was embarrassingly warm.
"Is that breakfast?" Akanishi added inquiringly and Kame nearly tripped over his feet in an effort to get the cart moving.
It wasn't really breakfast, it was early morning snack (as opposed to mid-morning snack, at ten-thirty), but it would have to do. Kame kept his eyes on the table as he transferred several dishes from the cart and laid out a full table setting for one.
"Wow, you've got everything in there," said a voice in his ear. "Thanks."
Kame made the mistake of looking up.
He'd never realized there was a little mark just by the corner of Akanishi's left eye -
Akanishi's eyes (up close, he could note their precise shade of brown) were wide and quizzical. They were also shadowed by dark circles. Kame gulped and looked away.
"Please excuse my impertinence," Kame said to the table, "but - but you really should be sure to sleep well. You have to take care of yourself. You're the most important person in the country now."
Akanishi laughed with genuine amusement. "I bet I could find you some people who disagree."
Kame looked up. "Sir?"
Akanishi leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. "I wasn't ever really into school - maybe you don't know, I never finished university" - of course Kame knew, it had been a key part of the campaign message - "so I've got a lot of catching up to do. Most of it I leave to my staff, you know? They're the smart ones. it would be a lot easier if they could do the talking for me. Maybe I should look into voice changers..."
Part of Kame was wondering what Yamashita and Nishikido would do if they knew this conversation was taking place; the rest of him was listening in a peculiar combination of shock and fascination.
"Anyway," Akanishi continued, "I thought I'd actually read what they told me to for once, to surprise them, but it's pretty far over my head. But everyone knows I didn't get elected for my brains, right?" He gave Kame another disarming smile.
"Um," Kame said, casting wildly about for a reply.
Akanishi's beautiful dark eyes creased at the corners. "It's all right. They tell me I'm good with people."
"You are," Kame blurted out. "I mean, I've been wanting to tell you - I - I really appreciate how well you treat your staff. I thought maybe you'd be more - I mean, not that I knew, but - anyway, you remember everyone's names and treat us like actual people and - I really appreciate that," he finished lamely. Inside, he writhed in mortification.
Prime Minister Akanishi looked honestly puzzled. "What else would I do?" he said.
"Well." Kame cleared his throat and hoped vainly that his cheeks would cool down. "Thank you all the same. Sir."
The Prime Minister ran a hand through his hair and poked his tongue in one side of his cheek. "You know," he said, looking past Kame, "Yamapi probably wouldn't want me to do this, but why don't you stop calling me 'sir'? It feels weird when we're more or less the same age, and, you know, kind of friendly..." He looked helplessly at Kame.
"What - what would you prefer?" Kame stuttered. Curse his traitorous voice. "Um. Akanishi-san?"
Akanishi tilted his head to the side. "Jin?" he offered with a guilty little smile, and Kame's mouth went dry.
DECEMBER 10
"Break time."
"Thank goodness, this weighs a ton. I think it's Minnie's hairbow. Ahhhhh, much better. Water?"
"Ah, thank you..."
"So... what're you planning for the weekend?"
"...I'm, um, not very social, I was just planning to, to work on my music some..."
"Music? You play?"
"Yeah. ...Guitar, mostly. And some other things."
"You do? So do I!"
"...you do?"
"Do you write? We have to get together sometime. Have you got a band? I know this great live house..."
DECEMBER 11
"Welcome to another episode of A to Z Around The World Natural Zoo! I'm Aiba Masaki and this is my assistant Matsumoto Jun-kun! Say hi, Jun-kun!"
"Aiba-san," Jun said, pained, "you really don't need to keep using -kun. Really." 'Jun-kun.' Every time he heard it he saw himself with a big red round elementary school backpack and knee shorts.
Aiba blinked at him. "Really? You're sure?"
Jun nodded. "Really."
"Okay," Aiba said. "Then I'll call you... Matsujun!"
"Huh?"
"I like nicknames," said Aiba. "You can call me Aiba-chan."
"I - "
"Of course, Aiba-chan!" Aiba parroted. Surely Jun would never sound like that. "'I'm so glad we're friends!'"
Jun looked at Aiba. Aiba grinned and flashed a v-sign.
Jun gave up, buried his face in his hands, and laughed.
"Ready to film again, Aiba?" one of the cameraman asked, sounding highly amused. People around Aiba were always amused, in a way that was affectionate rather than mocking.
"Okay, okay," Aiba said. "Stop laughing, Matsujun, we're professionals. Ouch! All right. We're ready."
"Standing by in three, two, one..."
DECEMBER 13
"Okay, people, look alive!" Ryo barked as a small whirlwind of assistants scurried back and forth backstage. "Opening ceremony begins in T-minus five minutes!"
Yamapi was speaking quickly and quietly. "Remember, Australians aren't American, never have been American, and never will be American. India and Indonesia are two different places. No hitting on the delegates no matter how much they're hitting on you. And don't, for god's sake, say anything to the Korean ambassador about his new hairstyle - yes," he said, as Jin opened his mouth, "I know it's really, really awful. You know that, he knows that, no need to say it." Jin rolled his eyes but nodded obediently. "Last but not least - "
"Here's the final draft," Shige interrupted breathlessly, thrusting a sheaf of papers in Jin's hands. "Watch the middle," he said to Jin, and disappeared as quickly as he'd appeared.
"Last but not least," Yamapi continued grimly, plucking the papers from Jin's grasp and fixing Jin with a gimlet eye, "deviate so much as a word from this speech and there will be consequences you could not even dream of."
Jin snatched the speech back and said with obvious irritation, "I can actually read."
Yamapi gave Jin hard look. Jin's eyes were narrowed, and his lips pressed together. Yamapi decided against saying, That's not what I'm worried about and instead held up his hands grudgingly. "I know. Sorry. We're all on edge."
Jin's moods were as changeable as the clouds in the sky. In a second his face was transformed and he was flashing Yamapi a lightning grin. "Come on. If you guys wrote it, it'll go over great." He clapped Yamapi on the shoulder. "You got me elected, after all."
Yamapi's mouth fell open. Before he could gather his wits to answer, Ryo was at his elbow saying, "Time."
"Understood." Yamapi took a deep, calming breath and looked at Jin. Jin looked back at him. "Ready?"
Jin nodded. "Ready to roll."
Yamapi gave Jin a light punch on the shoulder. "Good luck."
Jin winked and turned back to the curtain. With a deep breath, he stepped out on stage and Yamapi could hear a roar of applause.
Yamapi and Ryo joined Shige and Yokoyama where they were clustered at the edge of the curtain as Jin took his place behind the miked podium. He cleared his throat; adjusted the mike; gave the audience a wide trademark Akanishi smile.
"Friends and fellow citizens of the world," Jin began. "As a representative of the sovereign nation of Japan, and on behalf of all nations gathered here today, I'd like to officially open the 2009 Tokyo Summit on Asia-Pacific Relations."
Applause.
*
Ripples lapped at the side of the boat where it rocked gently in the moonlit bay. The motor was silent; at the bow, Moribe and Kuwata, two of the tech assistants, manipulated a pair of paddles with surprising skill.
Jun risked a glance at Aiba. He was intent on the water. Just past his shoulder, a camera was poised to roll.
"There," Aiba said suddenly, pointing. Sure enough, a small fluorescent buoy bobbed a few feet away.
"Standby," Shibata-san's voice whispered. "Three, two, one..."
The cameras rolled. Aiba's voice was hushed. "We're approaching the spot we marked earlier, where we're guessing the zebras will gather. They're very shy, so we have to approach very quietly and hope they don't notice...
The boat silently slid across the surface of the water. Jun found himself holding his breath. Just short of the buoy, one of the production assistants raised a hand, and the boat bobbed the last few inches forward.
Aiba made a gesture of silence.
Very carefully, he leaned over the side. Jun and one of the cameras followed.
There was a gasp in Jun's ear, and a damp hand gripping his.
Just under the water's surface, a swirl of glowing shapes darted back and forth. Jun watched, mesmerized, as the tiny fish wove in and out among each other and the swirl expanded, contracted, spun.
"We did it!" Aiba exclaimed in a whisper. "Look, Jun!"
Jun looked. Aiba's wet hair gleamed in the moonlight. The streak of saltwater across his cheekbone shone. He looked up at Jun and his eyes were round with excitement.
Jun cleared his throat. "Yeah," he whispered. "They're amazing."
*
Jin wasn't the best judge of speechwriting in the world, but everyone had seemed to like Shige's speech plenty. From the moment Jin set foot in the ballroom he barely had a moment free as delegates crowded to shake his hand. Fortunately, there were so many of them he couldn't manage more than a greeting or a word of thanks to each one, and just as fortunately, he had an excellent memory for faces. Charming crowds was what he was good at - when he wanted to be. And given Yamapi and Shige's recent moods, tonight he wanted to be.
There were limits, though, right? Limits to what the human body could take. There was only so much you could smile before your face fell off - Jin was pretty sure he'd read that somewhere. Literally fell off, leaving a gruesome writhing surface of muscles and dangly eye sockets.
Or maybe that had been his secret pre-summit horror movie marathon.
It was definitely time to take a break. At the next lull, he gave the Thai delegate his most charming smile, made an excuse in English that he was fairly sure made sense, and fled in the direction of the private bathroom.
It was much quieter behind the tall columns lining the edge of the ballroom. Quiet enough that - Jin quickly averted his eyes. That had to be another of those things he wasn't supposed to notice. As he pointedly avoided looking in the direction of the entwined tangle of limbs in the corner, a lone figure dressed in a waiter's uniform, half-hidden against one of the columns, caught his eye.
He knew that figure. Just as he opened his mouth to say Kame's name, a voice behind him spoke and Jin's stomach went icy.
"Prime Minister," Ambassador Kim said. "I'd like to congratulate you on your moving speech."
Very slowly, Jin turned. "Thank you," he said. No sign of any of his staff. Shit.
"You must tell me how you managed it," the ambassador said. "I understand reading Japanese is quite difficult and I've heard even the honorable Prime Minister finds it challenging."
This, this was the reason he couldn't stand the ambassador. Jin could always think up the right retort for Yamapi, but never when it actually mattered.
"Tell me," he was saying - help help help, Jin thought furiously - "is it true that you're considering a push to make English the second official language of Japan?"
Jin frowned. It might have come up as a joke - okay, it wouldn't have been a joke if his staff hadn't shouted him down - but he just knew that this was not the place to admit it. Though he still didn't understand why it would be so bad to have two official languages - wasn't English part of the required curriculum? Obviously everyone wanted to be bilingual -
He opened his mouth to answer and a new voice cut in.
"Ambassador Kim," Kame said. "You're interested in bilingual education, too."
The ambassador turned. "I'm sorry?"
"That's very admirable," Kame said earnestly. "Your Japanese is very good."
The ambassador was not exactly known for his keen grasp of language. "Thank you," he said suspiciously.
"Please pardon my interruption. My name is Kamenashi." Kame bowed politely. The ambassador mirrored the gesture. "You know, I understand you're an accomplished musician. I studied music in university, maybe you could tell me more about..." Kame's voice faded as he led Kim away.
As Jin stood gaping after them, Kame looked back.
Go! he mouthed over his shoulder.
With what Jin was sure was the most pathetically grateful expression ever to cross his face, he went.
DECEMBER 14
Koki thrust the ticket printout in Yuichi's face before the door was even half open. "The Joker's taking off," he crowed. "December 21st, baby, I'm outta here!"
Yuichi's mouth fell open. "You aren't serious."
"I am completely serious. Completely fucking serious." Koki punched the air for emphasis. "L.A. won't know what hit it."
"Do you know what hip-hop is like in L.A.? You're going to get yourself killed!"
Koki looked at Yuichi skeptically. "Do you know what hip-hop is like in L.A.?"
"I saw 'Boyz N The Hood,'" Yuichi said defensively. "Shut up!" - as Koki burst into laughter. "I'm serious, you don't have any money, you don't know anyone, all you've got are your 'dope rhyming skillz.'" He actually did those fucking irritating air quotes. Yuichi and his air quotes and his sweater vests wouldn't last an hour in L.A. But the Joker would. The Joker was going to fucking own Los Angeles. Hell yeah.
" - hello? Koki? Did you hear anything I said?"
"I'm broke and single and that's why I should stay in Tokyo, to be broke and single forever with you," Koki said, rolling his eyes. He could recite this speech in his sleep.
Yuichi was grinding his teeth again. "Koki," he said, in a pathetically obvious last-ditch grab at the straws, "you can't speak English!"
"Yes I can," Koki said in English. "Joker's here, y'all, make some noise! Check out my flow, baby, peeeeeace."
"Oh my god," said Yuichi.
"Haters to the left," Koki told him.
DECEMBER 15
The sandy beach was silver in the moonlight. Overhead, a mass of glittering stars stretched in every direction - to Jun's rum-blurred senses, infinite.
In fifteen hours, Jun would be flying back to Tokyo. The A to Z crew would move on to Indonesia the day after that.
A warm length wriggled against Jun's side. "Share?" Aiba's dreamy voice said in Jun's ear.
Jun fumbled for the bottle and dangled it in the air. Aiba, clumsy, grasped at the neck once, twice, and burst into drunken giggles; his fingers, brushing Jun's, were rough. Jun shivered.
Jun lost track of how long they lay still, silent but for the soft roar of the waves.
"Ne, Matsujun," Aiba whispered. His breath tickled Jun's neck. "Why don't you come with us?"
For some reason Jun was having trouble speaking. "I have to go back to Tokyo," he said eventually. "I have a job."
"Is it more fun than working with me?"
Jun rolled over and looked down. Aiba's face was perfectly still; his eyes were wide and serious.
"No," Jun whispered. There was something in his throat. "It's more fun with you."
"Ne, Jun," Aiba said again, softly. "Call me Masaki."
Warm, callused fingers curled around the back of Jun's neck. Aiba's huge eyes shone dark in the moonlight.
Jun leaned down.
Part 2
From: acchikocchi
SEASON'S GREETINGS!
Title: All Around (1/2)
Pairing/Group: Jin/Kame, Jun/Aiba, Subaru/Yasu, others mentioned or implied.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: AU (and how). Minor kpop cameo. Please excuse all liberties taken with: the Japanese political system, ichthyology, the Tokyo Disneyland hiring process, and/or the West Coast hip-hop scene. They are legion.
Notes: With apologies to Richard Curtis and company. Deepest thanks to Koizumi Kyoko, Oguri Shun, and Ayase Haruka for their suggestions, proofreading help, and general cheerleading.
Summary: JE does Love Actually.
TRANSCRIPT
AUGUST 30, 2009
NTV SPECIAL NEWS PROGRAM ZERO x SENKYO 2009
MURAO: ...coming to you live on election night, this is NTV's Zero x Senkyo 2009. This is Murao Nobutaka, and joining me tonight are Shimada Shinsuke and Sakurai Sho. The first round of ballots from today's elections for the National Diet's House of Representatives have been counted and the preliminary results are shocking. As many predicted, the Liberal Democratic Party appears on the brink of the House for only the second time in fifty-five years - but in stark contrast to the results predicted by almost every single pre-election poll, the new victor looks not to be Hatoyama Yukio's Democratic Party of Japan but a little-known fringe party that until weeks ago boasted a mere handful of candidates. Sakurai-kun, what can you tell us about this new - excuse the pun - "surprise" party?
SAKURAI: Of course we must emphasize these results are only preliminary and may not indicate the final outcome of the election, but the Happiness Realization Party's sudden leap in popularity is boggling politicians and political scientists alike. Even the Tokyo municipal elections in early July - which as we know are generally considered a fairly reliable gauge of general election trends - failed to predict the HRP's ascendance, as they stood no candidates.
SHIMADA: Fascinating.
MURAO: Indeed.
SAKURAI: Naturally, everyone's scrambling for information on what was previously considered at best a mere fringe party and at worst a group of, well, lunatics. So far credit seems to lie with an unusually penetrating and widespread viral marketing campaign as well as increased voter turnout among residents of Tokyo's Akihabara ward and women of all ages, blocs that voted nearly unanimously for the HRP. Street interviews with individuals who self-identified as HRP voters indicate strong personal support for party leader A -
MURAO: Excuse me, Sakurai-kun, I'm receiving a message... [pause] It's official. Breaking news: Prime Minister Aso, on behalf of the Liberal Democratic Party, has conceded - for the first time in history, the Happiness Realization Party has swept the Lower House and the new Prime Minister of Japan is party leader Akanishi Jin.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
NOVEMBER 20
Takki looked at Tsubasa. Tsubasa looked at Takki.
"No," they said in perfect unison.
"It's so heartwarming to see you finally agree on something," said their manager. "It's a shame I don't care. Come on. Out."
"Fuck," Takki said succintly as they got out of the company van, to which Tsubasa could only agree. Not that he was going to say so. It was his own personal promise to himself never to let Takki know he was right, something he liked to pull out to mull over and mentally cherish whenever the urge to throttle his so-called partner got too strong.
"I think it's going to rain," he said instead, moodily, eyeing the steely sky.
"Aren't you a ray of sunshine today," Takki sniped, at which point they reached the door of the recording studio and their manager gave them each an elbow in the side, muttering, "Best behavior or you'll be singing your next single soprano."
They rolled their eyes simultaneously, and then glared at each other. Their manager heaved a big sight and then, plastering a smile on his face, pushed open the door.
They were greeted with a high-pitched roar. Tsubasa's eyes crossed. They were trapped in a sea - no, an ocean of preteen girls. School uniforms. Braids. Squeals. He was going to lose his hearing. Oh god.
A piercing whistle cut through the clamor and, miraculously, the squealing (mostly) ceased. Tsubasa shook his head briefly, to clear it.
"Girls, girls, quietly." Somewhere, somehow, an adult had materialized from the seething masses of schoolgirlhood, an older woman with masses of artificially black hair and heavy blue eyeshadow. She was smiling at them a little... predatorily. "How nice to meet you, gentlemen."
"Our pleasure," Takki said smoothly, gracing her with a charming smile.
Was she giving Tsubasa the eye? Surreptitiously - he hoped - he edged backward.
"Let me introduce you," their manager interjected. "Boys, may I present Miss Mori Mitsuko and the Ochanomizu Girls' Junior High School Chorus." He gestured to the sea of uniforms with a wide sweep of his arm and the squealing returned full force. "Ladies, Imai Tsubasa - " Tsubasa waved, worrying distantly that the grin plastered on his face might crack it " - and Takizawa Hideaki." Takki dropped the girls a wink, and the squealing jumped another decibel. Takki's eyes slid towards Tsubasa and the corner of his mouth curled up in a nearly undetectable smirk. Tsubasa continued to smile for all he was worth.
"Now," their manager said, all genial smiles. "Shall we begin recording?"
More squeals.
There was no question about it. Tsubasa was in hell.
NOVEMBER 24
"Well," Jin said brightly. "I think that went well."
Yamapi's head met the table with an audible thunk. "No, Jin. No, that did not go well. What did I tell you beforehand?"
"Not to refer to myself as The Boss in front of heads of state," Jin said promptly.
Yamapi opened his mouth, and then closed it again. "You're right. I did tell you that. And you haven't yet. Very good. What else did I tell you?"
"Not to open my mouth for anything other than conversation?"
Yamapi's fingers crept up to massage his temples. "Yes. That, too. Though now I'm thinking maybe it should have been the other way around. What else?"
Jin looked shifty. "Not to... play cell phone games during cabinet meetings...?"
There was an awful silence. "No," Yamapi said eventually. "No, I didn't say that, and I'll pretend you didn't say it either because I know even you wouldn't consider something like that." He took a deep breath. "No," he repeated, "what I said was not to piss off Korea!"
"Oh," said Jin. "Right."
"This is one of our key policy changes! Cultivate good relations with Korea, a valuable trading partner and heir to the same rich cultural heritage that influenced Japan - " Yamapi cut himself off and took a deep breath. Unconsciously reciting campaign materials was usually a sign he was getting too stressed.
"I don't like their ambassador," Jin said sullenly. "He reminds me of Ryo. We don't need more than one Ryo."
"Of course you don't," Yamapi sighed.
"Besides," Jin continued, "the Americans like me."
"They like you because you like them - you like them so much you're not pushing for closure of any of the military bases because you like going down there to chat with the soldiers about Justin Timberlake!"
"There's nothing wrong with intercultural exchange," Jin said loftily.
At that fortuitous moment, a knock sounded on the door.
Thank god. Yamapi was ready devour an entire herd of livestock. More and more frequently, snack time was all that got him through the day, a state of affairs that really didn't bear thinking about. Fortunately, in Prime Minister Akanishi's residence, snack time was early and often.
"Come in," he called, and the door opened.
After the unfortunate incident with the young woman and the aphrodisiac-spiked curry, Yamapi had been sure to screen all the residence employees personally - which was why he took in the sight of an unfamiliar young man rolling the heavily laden snack cart in with surprise and no small amount of alarm. He cleared his throat, and the cart and its handler immediately stopped. The young man looked up.
"I'm sorry," Yamapi said pleasantly, with an undertone of menace, "I don't think we've met."
The young man straightened his shoulders and executed an exceedingly correct bow. "It's a pleasure to meet you. My name's Kamenashi, I was recommended by Nishikido-san...?'
Aha. Yamapi remembered the application now; on the strength of Ryo's recommendation he'd approved it without a personal interview. "Right, of course," he said, and modulated his smile from threatening to friendly. "Sorry about that. Nice to have you with us, Kamenashi. I'm Yamashita, chief of staff, and you know who this is - " He turned to Jin.
Jin was staring.
"Sorry," Jin said with a warm and heartfelt smile, the sort of smile that wrung votes from impressionable women like tears from Korean soap opera fans, "what did you say your name was? Kamenashi?"
Kamenashi nodded with a terribly earnest expression. "It's an honor to meet you, Prime Minister." Oh no. He probably respected the political system and the office of the prime minister and read up on current events and voted in every election. There was no way this could end well.
"Kamenashi," Jin said. "Do you have a nickname?"
Kamenashi looked understandably taken aback. "Um. Some of my friends call me Kame?"
"Can I?" Jin asked. "I like to cultivate friendly relations with my staff."
"Um," Kamenashi repeated. He blinked once. "If you'd like. Sir."
"Great." Jin was still smiling. "Thank you, Kame. I look forward to talking with you again."
Kamenashi apparently took that as a dismissal and backed out of the room, a hesitant smile on his face. Yamapi waited until the door snicked shut, and then lunged.
Jin yelped and scrabbled backward but not quickly enough; Yamapi grabbed a handful of Jin's shirt collar and held on tight. "Akanishi Jin," he hissed, "if you so much as suggest - no, if you even think about suggesting - "
"I didn't do anything! I didn't - argh let me go!"
"I've known you practically longer than your own mother, and I know what you're thinking, and if after everything Ryo and I did for that campaign you get yourself thrown out of office on a sexual harassment scandal so help me God - "
"I can't breathe!"
Yamapi loosened his grip slightly and Jin took a wheezing gulp of air. "Promise me," Yamapi pressed, giving Jin a little shake.
"Fine," Jin said sulkily. "Fine. I promise."
Yamapi stared him in the eye. Jin stared back, unblinking. With a deep release of breath, Yamapi let go and returned to his seat. "Right," he said. "Let's eat."
If he'd looked at Jin's left hand, casually tucked behind the heavy wooden chair, he would have seen two fingers, crossed.
NOVEMBER 27
"...can you believe that quote from the press conference last week? I swear he thinks the Diet is a national weight loss initiative, we're going to wake up and find he's declared a personal dictatorship. Where's Sho? Didn't he cover..."
"...heard about Ohno's exhibition, when's it going open..."
Jun had had just enough wine to feel a pleasant, warm buzz; he surveyed the (newly) joint Ninomiya-Ohno apartment through a haze of contentment he'd have been forced to disown in the cold light of day. Sho was talking to a well-coiffed young woman Jun didn't know, accompanying whatever the subject of their fervent conversation was - even odds it was the new administration - with a series of increasingly impassioned gestures. Ninomiya was across the room, chatting with an actor Jun vaguely recognized. Ohno had an arm around Ninomiya's waist. He probably didn't even realize it.
Jun was terribly afraid his expression was closer to disgustingly fond than, well, disgusted. All the people Jun cared about most (and he would have the balls of anyone who tried to make him admit it), all in one place. Almost.
He checked his watch. Almost midnight; he could probably slip away. The buzz of conversation followed him to the entryway as he unearthed his coat (black camelhair, full length) and shoes (Zegna) from the pile
"I thought I could hear dozens of tiny animals crying for vengeance," said a voice behind him.
Jun turned. "You are sold separately," he said in mock surprise, with his special Ninomiya-reserved grin.
Nino gave him the finger. Jun cuffed Nino on the shoulder harder than was strictly necessary, to make up for the excessive feeling earlier.
"Ow," Nino complained. "I bruise easily. So what's the hurry? You always stick around 'til we kick you out."
Jun would have to play it carefully. "Oh," he said, faux-casual. "I've just got this thing - "
Nino immediately looked suspicious. "What kind of a 'thing'? More important than your oldest friends?" He narrowed his eyes, and a grin that could only be described as "shit-eating" spread across his face.
Shit. "No," Jun said quickly - god, why was he such an awful liar - "it's this thing for work - "
"You filthy liar," Nino said gleefully. "Who is he? Tell me or I'll go get Satoshi right now."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Jun said, hastily pulling on his coat, "and I have to go now anyway. Thanks for the party."
"I'll find out," Nino promised. "You know I will."
"I'll see you next week," Jun said loudly and made his way very quickly to the door.
"I'll be waiting," Nino caroled. Jun heard him turn to go back to into the apartment.
"Oi, Ninomiya," he said. Nino turned.
Jun smiled, a real smile, the kind he wasn't allowed to use for work because they showed all his teeth and everything. "Congratulations."
Nino shrugged. The corners of his mouth crept up anyway. "Thanks," he said. The door shut.
Sometime during the party it had started to drizzle. Jun tightened the purple cashmere scarf - a freebie from work - around his neck and felt absurdly cheerful. He was getting maudlin, he told himself sternly. It must be because Christmas was approaching. He loved Christmas in all its glitzy commercialized romantic saccharine glory. Maybe this year - No, he was getting ahead of himself. It was a casual thing, he reminded himself, and no one had said anything about something more than - well - that night - Oh god, he was blushing like a thirteen-year-old.
Jun made sure his knock was soft. The wrap party for Hiro's show had been earlier that night, and if he'd come home to crash now that filming was over - or if he hadn't returned yet - Jun didn't want to disturb -
The door swung open to reveal Oguri Shun.
They regarded each other in equal puzzlement.
"Jun," Shun said after a minute. "Hi."
"Shun," Jun answered, still confused. "Nice to see you. Can I...?" He gestured at the entryway.
Shun blinked. "Sure. Sorry." He stood aside and Jun stepped up into the entryway.
"Sorry," Shun said, rubbing a hand across the back of his head. "I was just surprised to see you here so late, that's all. What time is it, midnight?"
"Just after." Shun was looking at him expectantly. Jun cleared his throat. "Well, he said, fully aware his casual voice was not sounding casual one bit. "I, see, Hiro and I - that is, it's kind of - " He broke off as he realized he was perilously close to babbling.
Shun was staring at him. "You have got to be kidding me."
"I'm sorry?"
"No, sorry, it's nothing - really, you are? That's great. Really." Shun edged around him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to act so surprised. Hiro never said anything."
"Yeah," Jun said, feeling - damn it! - the corners of his mouth creeping upward, "it's not official or anything - I mean, it's not a thing at all, just - "
"Right," said Shun. "I totally understand. Well, I just came by to pick up this thing I borrowed from Hiro and now I've got it, so I'd better head off now, it's getting late - " He broke off at the sound of unsteady footsteps.
Jun recognized the sound of Hiro's laughter before Hiro himself tumbled into the hall. His dress shirt was half unbuttoned and there was a bright red mark on his collarbone. He didn't even seem to notice Jun. "Shun," he purred, "what's keeping you?"
Jun's bag hit the floor.
NOVEMBER 30
Kame found the bar and made his way to where Nakamaru and Koki were waiting in a daze. "Kame, my man!" Koki beamed. "How's it hanging?"
"The Prime Minister remembered my name," Kame said. "My nickname."
"Kame," Nakamaru said, "you're the smart one, talk some sense into this lunatic. He's been babbling about Los Angeles and ice cubes, I don't know where he got this idea - "
"Ice Cube," Koki interrupted witheringly. "You believe in me, right, Kame? I've totally got what it takes to hang on the West Coast, I know it. I mean, the Tokyo scene is so lame - "
"Wait until you hear about his tattoos. Just wait."
Koki flushed bright red. "You going to tell everyone about that? I never should have taken you to the parlor, Jesus."
"Oh, don't even start with me, you needed someone to hold your hand - and now my eyes are never going to heal - "
"Don't listen to anything he says, Kame, he's just jealous I'm headed for the sweet life. Okay, Kame? Kame?" Koki waved a hand in front of Kame's face.
Kame blinked twice and looked at them curiously. "What were you saying?"
DECEMBER 1
"Attention, temporary cast members. Please proceed to room 38A for registration and assignments. Attention, temporary cast members. Please proceed to room 38A for registration and assignments.
Room 38A had been easy to find; it was the one disgorging a winding line of college students and 20-something-year-olds with headphones and dyed hair and silver jewelry. Subaru longed for his own headphones; he had been waiting patiently for almost half and hour, and the music blaring over the loudspeaker was - of course - gratingly cheerful instrumental arrangements of popular Disney tunes. He was never going to think of "Under the Sea" with the same childhood nostalgia again.
"Next!"
At last. The man behind the desk had to be the same age as Subaru, if not younger, but in stark contrast to the rest of the room he was possibly the most normal man Subaru had ever seen. Subaru eyed his sweater vest. The initials "Y. N." were stitched neatly over where the left breast pocket would be.
"I.D., please?"
Subaru handed his ID over. Y. N. squinted at it. "Shibutani... Shibutani..." He ran his forefinger down a sheet of paper until it came to a stop halfway down. "Ah. Shibutani. Wait just a minute." He raised his voice. "Number 45, Yasuda? Yasuda Shota?"
"Here!" A hand waved from the other side of the room and suddenly a young man materialized in front of Subaru in a whirl of blond hair, colorful beads, and an outfit that Subaru had definitely never seen on Omotesando.
"Yasuda, Shibutani. Shibutani, Yasuda," said Y. N. "You'll be working together. Here's your assignment." He handed them each a colorful printed card.
Subaru looked down. A cartoon mouse looked back up at him.
"Really?" Yasuda said next to him. "Great!" Subaru glanced over. Sure enough, the mouse on Yasuda's card was wearing a red and white polka-dotted hair ribbon.
Subaru looked at Yasuda's face in disbelief.
"No questions?" Y. N. said, clearly eager to get rid of them. "Great. Wait on the other side of the room for your casting call, please, and you'll be measured for costumes and given further instructions." He gave them a brief perfunctory smile. "Welcome to Tokyo Disney."
The moment they reach the waiting area, Yasuda turned and gave him a smile that lit up his whole face. "So," he said. "We'll be working together. Hi!" He stuck out his hand, Western-style.
"Oh, uh - " Subaru shook the proffered hand awkwardly. "Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you, Shibutani-san," Yasuda said with every appearance of sincerity. "You're from Osaka, too?"
"Yeah," Subaru said softly, "I moved here a few months ago."
Yasuda beamed. "Me, too! Where did you - " He was interrupted by the intercom.
"Attention. Mickeys and Minnies, please proceed to room 34 for costume fittings. Mickeys and Minnies, room 34."
Subaru exchanged a glance with Yasuda. Yasuda smiled cheerfully at him with no appearance of self-consciousness whatsoever. "That's us," he said.
"You really don't mind, Yasuda-san?" Subaru said dubiously.
"I really don't," Yasuda confirmed. "And call me Yasu, everyone does."
"Then," Subaru said, gathering his courage, "please call me Subaru."
Yasuda - Yasu - winked at him. "Sure."
DECEMBER 2
"But what about the pasta?" Jin asked.
His staff exchanged glances.
"All right," Yamapi said briskly. "It's been a busy morning, why don't we take a break?" He pressed a button next to the table - he could hear a faint buzz sounding through the door - and leaned back in his chair, rolling his shoulders slowly and examining the Prime Minister's personal staff.
Ryo was looking at him across the table, a certain amount of pleading evident in his expression. It was undoubtedly taking all of his willpower not to open his mouth. Yamapi shook his head, and Ryo made a face but stayed quiet. Next to Ryo, Shige was tapping furiously at his BlackBerry and across from Shige, on Yamapi's other side, Yokoyama appeared to be doing deep breath exercises.
Their Prime Minister was flipping through a volume of Hetalia: Axis Powers.
That explained the pasta at least. Yamapi closed his eyes; there was a persistent pounding at his temples that wouldn't seem to go away. The Asia-Pacific relations summit was in ten days' time and he was no more certain Jin wouldn't open his mouth and torpedo years of diplomatic negotiations with a single well-placed sentence than he had been three months ago. There'd better be cream puffs on the snack cart today. That was possibly the only thing that would get him through the morning.
The door opened.
"Hi, Kame," Jin said with another of the smiles Shige had likened to a guided missile.
The sheer force of it seemed to pin Kamenashi in place for a moment, before he recovered himself. "Good morning," he said, glancing up with a tentative return smile as he uncovered the cart. "Er, good morning, sir. Sorry."
Jin's eyes crinkled at the corners. "Hm? Oh, you don't have to call me that. How's your day going?"
"My day?" Kamenashi paused for another fraction of a second, and resumed his duties with what appeared to Yamapi to be a modicum of uncertainty. "Fine? How - how's yours?"
"Oh, it's going great," Jin said breezily. "We're accomplishing a ton, aren't we?" The staff murmured appropriately inaudible responses. "See," he continued, "another busy day of legislating!"
Yamapi felt an iron grip on his arm. Yokoyama was staring at him with horror in his eyes.
It's fine, he mouthed, even though it very clearly wasn't.
Kamenashi's brow was furrowed. "But the Prime Minister's office doesn't propose legislation...?"
Jin laughed airily. "Right. Just a joke. We're busy with the summit right now, you know, next week's - "
" - on relations within the Asia-Pacific region, right, of course," Kamenashi said, nodding quickly. "I'm excited to see the results - this is going to provide some really ground-breaking opportunities for the new administration - anyway." He cleared his throat and backed toward the door. "Um. Do your best. Please enjoy your refreshment."
At the door, Kamenashi paused.
Jin beamed at him. "Need something else?"
"Well - you know," Kamenashi said diffidently. "If you're thinking of promoting public interest in international relations through popular literature - " he gestured at the Hetalia volume lying forgotten on the table, "you might want to consider expanding into other current issues, too. There's some great resources out there, like Kawasumi Hiroshi's work on judicial reform - " At that moment, he seemed to realize the room was staring at him, and immediately flushed a deep red. "Just a suggestion," he murmured, and looked at his shoes.
"No," Jin said, eyes bright. "I think that's great. What was that name?"
Kamenashi risked a glance up. "Um, Kawasumi Hiroshi? I could make a list," he said in a rush.
Jin was beaming. "That would be great," he said. "I'll check them all out myself. Thanks, Kame, that's awes - I mean, this could be a great help."
"Oh," Kamenashi said faintly, "it's nothing. Um. Have a good day." To Yamapi's complete and utter horror, there was the faintest tinge of pink to Kamenashi's cheeks. Or maybe he was imagining it. Please god let him be imagining it.
The moment the door closed behind the snack cart, four voices rose as one.
"Akanishi!"
"What?" Jin said, wounded. And then, "Someone's going to find me this manga, right?"
DECEMBER 4
Warm sun beat down on his face. The breeze wafted delicate tropical fragrances past his nose. On either side of him rose a stand of shady palms; before him, pristine white sand stretched down to a crescent of calm blue-green ocean. In the distance, breakers rolled.
Jun was not impressed.
He adjusted his sunglasses (Prada, oversize) and scowled as he sipped his guava daquiri. Everyone said Guam would be a perfect change from the miserable weather plaguing Tokyo. Nino's friend Masami lent him her private vacation estate. Nino and Ohno drove him to the airport. There were lots of smiles and manful pats on the shoulder and attempts at hugs.
Ugh. Why had everyone had to tiptoe around like he was made of glass, honestly, it wasn't like there was anything to feel sorry about, he'd had a little fling and now it was over and he hadn't even told anyone in the first place so how did they even know.
He couldn't even stay in Guam until Christmas was over and done with. Christmas was a miserable holiday.
Sunk in a black cloud, it was a minute before Jun registered the sound of approaching voices, or the purr of an approaching motor. He sat upright, sliding his sunglasses up, and squinted at the bay.
The boat was unremarkable - a little white motorboat emblazoned, incongruously, Simba - but its passengers less so. They were clearly a television crew - Jun counted two live cameras, another sitting unused atop a pile of technical gear, the two attendant camera, a couple of tech assistants, and a small knot of what had to be production staff. All attention seemed focused on a slim shape leaning over the side of the boat.
As Jun stood up to approach them, the motor cut out and the crew fell silent.
From the edge of the beach, Jun could make out the crew more clearly. The shape resolved into a young man about Jun's age, wearing the most intent expression Jun had ever seen and.. talking to the fish? That couldn't be. As the boat drifted closer, his voice suddenly carried clearly.
"...not rare, but beautiful anyways," the young man was narrating in a hushed voice. "Look at the star-shaped markings on her right fin. Isn't she cute? Here, let's zoom in a little bit more - "
The young man leaned over. Jun raised an involuntary hand and found himself opening his mouth in warning -
In the blink of an eye, there was a yell, a brief flail of limbs, a loud splash - and the young man disappeared from sight. The air of concentration vanished, and a ripple of laughter ran through the crew. "Aiba-kun, not again," someone called. One of the cameramen sat back, stretching, and the other leaned over to peer into the bay. No one seemed particularly worried.
In seconds, the young man surfaced spluttering and shaking his head like a dog. "She's gone," he said, expression woebegone. "I must have scared her away."
Another wave of laughter. "Don't worry, Aiba-kun," said a woman with a clipboard and a sleek pair of sunglasses, "I'm sure we'll have another encounter soon. And we did get some excellent footage."
"I thought she liked me," the young man - Aiba? - said sadly, treading water.
"In the meantime," the woman said, raising her voice, "break for lunch, this looks like a nice little place - " She turned toward the beach, and caught sight of Jun.
Jun placed his hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow.
He was uncomfortably aware that deep purple swim trunks and feathered flip-flops did exactly contribute to a forbidding image, but the pose appeared to have sufficient effect. The woman exchanged a speaking glance with the boat's pilot - also Japanese, Jun could see, and likely part of the production crew - and the boat nosed its way toward the beach.
"Wait for me?" came Aiba's voice from its wake.
The boat nudged up on the sandy beach. Jun waited for the pilot to jump out and steady it and the clipboard woman to disembark before saying, in his most haughty voice, "May I ask what business you have here?"
The woman's lips formed a perfect, glossy "o". A second later, they curved in an ingratiating smile. "I'm so sorry," she said. "Please excuse our intrusion. Is this your property? I represent Nippon Television's 'A to Z Around The World Natural Zoo' program - we're filming a series of episodes on location in Guam and this is really a perfect location, perhaps you might consider - "
"Oh, you're Japanese, too!" Something hurled itself up the beach. Jun caught a flash of wet hair and brown skin as several drops of water splattered him in the face. Someone was gripping his hand. Jun blinked several times.
When he refocused, he was greeted with the brightest, most dazzling smile he had ever seen.
"Nice to meet you," its owner said breathlessly. "I'm Aiba Masaki, have you seen our show?"
Aiba's fingers were calloused, and his grip was very warm. Jun took an involuntary step backward. "I'm sorry?"
"NTV, Wednesday afternoon at four. A for Aiba, that's me, Z for Zoo. You'll check it out back in Japan, right?"
Aiba's eyes pleaded earnestly. Jun found himself nodding.
"Great!" Aiba beamed. "You don't mind if we use footage from your beach, do you? It won't show anything other than the fish, promise."
"It's not mine," Jun finally managed to get out. "It belongs to a friend. She's back in Japan, and I'm not sure how she'd feel about her property - " He broke off. Aiba was staring at him imploringly.
"I could call her," Jun said finally, and Aiba's face immediately creased with delight.
"Thank you!" he exclaimed, squeezing Jun's captive hand with both his own. "Thank you so much! This is going to be great! This is going to be the best episode! Maybe the sea turtles - " Apparently struck with an idea, he released Jun's hand and dashed back toward the boat. Jun watched him go, dazed.
"He's awfully convincing, isn't he," the woman said drily.
Jun's spine stiffened. "Good luck with your filming," he said coolly and marched away with as much dignity as he could muster.
DECEMBER 5
A familiar pair of shoes were lined up neatly in the entryway. Shoes that belonged to neither Shige nor Koyama. Shige stared at them and then, for just a second, leaned his forehead against the wall and wondered what he'd done to deserve his life. Then he kicked off his own shoes and went inside.
"Shige!" Koyama beamed from where he sat on the floor cradling a video game controller. "Welcome back!"
"Shige!" Tegoshi beamed from next to Koyama. "Long time no see!"
"I'm back," Shige muttered. "Hi. 'S been a while." He dropped his briefcase unceremoniously by the door and headed for the kitchen, pulling his tie loose as he did so.
"Shige?" Koyama's voice floated after him. "Are you all right?"
They did have beer. Thank god. Shige pulled a can from the refrigerator and took a long, long drink before he answered. "Yeah," he said at last. "Long day. As usual."
When he returned to the living room Koyama was watching him with concern written all over his face. "Maybe you should take a day off," he said. "Stress can make you sick."
"Can stupidity make you sick?" Shige said acidly. "Because that's what I'm dealing with all day. Every day." He took another long drink.
"Aren't you working for the new administration?" Tegoshi interjected. Shige slanted a glance at him. He looked innocently curious, which meant he was anything but.
"That's right," Shige answered against his better judgement. "An old classmate who was part of the campaign asked me to join the prime minister's staff. I couldn't really say no."
Tegoshi's gaze sharpened. "Not Yamashita Tomohisa?"
Shige sat up. "No," he said suspiciously. "Nishikido Ryo. But how do you know Yamashita?"
Tegoshi's expression dissolved, once again, into angelic sweetness. "I like to follow politics. It's part of being a good citizen."
Shige was not convinced one bit but something told him he would probably be happier not knowing. He contented himself with raising an eyebrow and settling back into the couch as Koyama praised Tegoshi's civic virtue. He was so ready for this day to be over. Maybe Tegoshi go home early, and Koyama would take pity on him and make dinner, and then afterwards they'd find out Tegoshi had suddenly discover a valuable internship opportunity in Africa. He lost himself in this happy fantasy for a moment.
"Shige," Koyama said in the cajoling tone he only hauled out when Shige was in an especially awful mood, usually before producing some kind of placating treat. It also, unfailingly, induced in Shige a niggling tendril of guilt.
Shige rolled his head over. Koyama's were full of earnestness. "I bet you'd feel better if you relaxed and did something fun with us..."
Shige's brain had just enough time to reverse gear and process the warning signals before Koyama went on, voice bubbling with enthusiasm. "Guess what Tegoshi brought?" Koyama didn't wait for Shige to answer. "Karaoke!"
DECEMBER 7
"Good morning, Jun-kun!"
Jun gave Aiba a little smile - no one, he'd quickly discovered, could avoid smiling at Aiba - and waved. He'd taken to wandering down to the beach first thing in the morning with a nice cold tropical smoothie in hand. It was much more pleasant before the sun got too high, after all. The afternoon was nice, too. And, Jun told the specter of Ninomiya in his head, he'd been sent here to enjoy the ocean so he was damn well going to enjoy the ocean. It had nothing to do with the company. At all.
"Good morning, Matsumoto-san," Shibata-san - clipboard woman and, Jun had found, executive producer - echoed. "Another beautiful day."
"Morning," Jun said, and strolled over to where Aiba was squinting at what appeared to be the day's shooting schedule. He peered over Aiba's shoulder and said teasingly, "What are you going to find today?"
"I think you're making fun of me, Jun-kun," Aiba said seriously. "But! Today we're going to find spinner dolphins and sea turtles."
Aiba had mentioned sea turtles before. Jun had the vague idea this wasn't nesting season - did they call them nests? - or mating season, or whenever it was that sea turtles came out of the water, but he wasn't going to say so. If he knew that, the undoubtedly so did Aiba.
"Dolphins?" he said instead. "Here?"
"We're going out to the ocean today," Aiba explained. "We'll have to leave Simba here but there's another boat all ready and we're going to meet the dolphins and maybe find something else, too."
"Oh," Jun said, and relentlessly quashed the immediate rush of disappointment. "Well. Have fun."
This was met with silence. Jun glanced over. Aiba's eyes, watching him, were slowly widening.
"What," Jun said uneasily.
"Jun-kun," Aiba said in a hushed voice. "I have an idea." He gestured for Jun to lean in.
Jun leaned in.
Aiba said, "Want to be my assistant?"
Jun's mouth fell open.
Aiba bounced upright. "You don't do anything but sit around on the beach all day, right? You could come out on the boat with us, and see the dolphins - there are manatees, too, and sometimes they see humpbacks, wait until you see them, they're huge."
"I," Jun started, and stopped in the face of Aiba's expectant expression.
"You'd be really good at it, I bet. And it would be more fun with you."
"But my agency," Jun said helplessly.
Shibata-san swooped like a hawk. Jun hadn't even "Your agency? You're an actor?"
He was cornered. "A model," he said reluctantly. "M.A.D. Productions."
"Really," she said, eyes gleaming. "Do you happen to have their number with you?"
Jun looked at Aiba. Aiba was nodding at him encouragingly, like nothing so much as a very large puppy. Jun didn't even like puppies.
He took the offered clipboard and wrote down their number.
Shibata-san gave him a shark-like smile and strolled away, already opening her cell. Jun was left with the uncomfortable feeling he'd just been played like a violin. Aiba was practically vibrating in place. "Wow," he repeated. "This is going to be great. The dolphins will like you, I can tell."
Despite his best efforts, Jun said, "How can you tell."
"Because I like you," said Aiba with a puzzled smile, like it was the most obvious answer, ever. "Come on, we have to get you a wetsuit!" He grabbed Jun's arm and tugged.
Helpless, Jun followed.
DECEMBER 8
Kame was going to be late for work. He was never late for work. Shit, shit, shit, he repeated silently to himself as he fumbled for his ID card, waving it at the security check. They waved him through and he pelted up the walk to the service entrance, already envisioning Yamashita's face at the snack cart's late arrival. He took the stairs in two bounds, slipped inside, rounded the corner to the kitchen -
The supervisor of the house staff was waiting with crossed arms. "Kamenashi," she began.
"I apologize for my lateness, excuse me, sorry, be right back - " Kame snagged the early morning snack cart and careened out of the kitchen before she could do more than watch him go, open-mouthed.
He stopped in front of the door to the Prime Minister's meeting room. Deep breath. Kame tucked back his hair, smoothed his shirt, straightened up, took another deep breath and tried a polite smile. Then, a model of decorum, he gave the door a precise rap and swung it opened.
And, once inside, stopped still.
The Prime Minister was leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up on the table, crossed at the ankles, to all appearances fast asleep.
Kame froze. A corner of his traitorous mind couldn't help noting every detail of Akanishi's sleeping face, his relaxed mouth. But it lost so much of its brightness with his eyes closed -
No. No, Kame was not going there, that was whole new worlds of not going to happen.
At that moment, the Prime Minister yawned, and sat up. He blinked once, twice, and stretched -
"Excuse me, sir," Kame croaked, before he did something extraordinarily stupid.
Prime Minister Akanishi bolted straight upright and made a sound that - that almost sounded like a yelp. "I-was-studying-Pi-really-I-was-look-right-here- " He broke off and squinted at Kame. "You're not Yamapi."
"Um. No," said Kame. "I'm Kamenashi."
"I know," the Prime Minister said. "Kame. I remember. Uh. Sorry about that. I fell asleep reading..." He waved a vague hand at an uneven stack of papers on the table and looked around him with a certain air of confusion. "What time is it?"
"Just after nine," Kame said. "I'm very sorry, I know I'm late - "
Akanishi furrowed his brow. "Nine in the morning?"
"Yes, it's - have you been here all night?" Akanishi looked extraordinarily guilty. "Sir! What - I'm so sorry, someone should have - I can't imagine what - "
"It's not their fault," Akanishi said. "I told all the house staff not to disturb me because I had work to do. I don't know if they believed me, though," he said, and winked. The part of Kame that wasn't hyperventilating over impending unemployment was embarrassingly warm.
"Is that breakfast?" Akanishi added inquiringly and Kame nearly tripped over his feet in an effort to get the cart moving.
It wasn't really breakfast, it was early morning snack (as opposed to mid-morning snack, at ten-thirty), but it would have to do. Kame kept his eyes on the table as he transferred several dishes from the cart and laid out a full table setting for one.
"Wow, you've got everything in there," said a voice in his ear. "Thanks."
Kame made the mistake of looking up.
He'd never realized there was a little mark just by the corner of Akanishi's left eye -
Akanishi's eyes (up close, he could note their precise shade of brown) were wide and quizzical. They were also shadowed by dark circles. Kame gulped and looked away.
"Please excuse my impertinence," Kame said to the table, "but - but you really should be sure to sleep well. You have to take care of yourself. You're the most important person in the country now."
Akanishi laughed with genuine amusement. "I bet I could find you some people who disagree."
Kame looked up. "Sir?"
Akanishi leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. "I wasn't ever really into school - maybe you don't know, I never finished university" - of course Kame knew, it had been a key part of the campaign message - "so I've got a lot of catching up to do. Most of it I leave to my staff, you know? They're the smart ones. it would be a lot easier if they could do the talking for me. Maybe I should look into voice changers..."
Part of Kame was wondering what Yamashita and Nishikido would do if they knew this conversation was taking place; the rest of him was listening in a peculiar combination of shock and fascination.
"Anyway," Akanishi continued, "I thought I'd actually read what they told me to for once, to surprise them, but it's pretty far over my head. But everyone knows I didn't get elected for my brains, right?" He gave Kame another disarming smile.
"Um," Kame said, casting wildly about for a reply.
Akanishi's beautiful dark eyes creased at the corners. "It's all right. They tell me I'm good with people."
"You are," Kame blurted out. "I mean, I've been wanting to tell you - I - I really appreciate how well you treat your staff. I thought maybe you'd be more - I mean, not that I knew, but - anyway, you remember everyone's names and treat us like actual people and - I really appreciate that," he finished lamely. Inside, he writhed in mortification.
Prime Minister Akanishi looked honestly puzzled. "What else would I do?" he said.
"Well." Kame cleared his throat and hoped vainly that his cheeks would cool down. "Thank you all the same. Sir."
The Prime Minister ran a hand through his hair and poked his tongue in one side of his cheek. "You know," he said, looking past Kame, "Yamapi probably wouldn't want me to do this, but why don't you stop calling me 'sir'? It feels weird when we're more or less the same age, and, you know, kind of friendly..." He looked helplessly at Kame.
"What - what would you prefer?" Kame stuttered. Curse his traitorous voice. "Um. Akanishi-san?"
Akanishi tilted his head to the side. "Jin?" he offered with a guilty little smile, and Kame's mouth went dry.
DECEMBER 10
"Break time."
"Thank goodness, this weighs a ton. I think it's Minnie's hairbow. Ahhhhh, much better. Water?"
"Ah, thank you..."
"So... what're you planning for the weekend?"
"...I'm, um, not very social, I was just planning to, to work on my music some..."
"Music? You play?"
"Yeah. ...Guitar, mostly. And some other things."
"You do? So do I!"
"...you do?"
"Do you write? We have to get together sometime. Have you got a band? I know this great live house..."
DECEMBER 11
"Welcome to another episode of A to Z Around The World Natural Zoo! I'm Aiba Masaki and this is my assistant Matsumoto Jun-kun! Say hi, Jun-kun!"
"Aiba-san," Jun said, pained, "you really don't need to keep using -kun. Really." 'Jun-kun.' Every time he heard it he saw himself with a big red round elementary school backpack and knee shorts.
Aiba blinked at him. "Really? You're sure?"
Jun nodded. "Really."
"Okay," Aiba said. "Then I'll call you... Matsujun!"
"Huh?"
"I like nicknames," said Aiba. "You can call me Aiba-chan."
"I - "
"Of course, Aiba-chan!" Aiba parroted. Surely Jun would never sound like that. "'I'm so glad we're friends!'"
Jun looked at Aiba. Aiba grinned and flashed a v-sign.
Jun gave up, buried his face in his hands, and laughed.
"Ready to film again, Aiba?" one of the cameraman asked, sounding highly amused. People around Aiba were always amused, in a way that was affectionate rather than mocking.
"Okay, okay," Aiba said. "Stop laughing, Matsujun, we're professionals. Ouch! All right. We're ready."
"Standing by in three, two, one..."
DECEMBER 13
"Okay, people, look alive!" Ryo barked as a small whirlwind of assistants scurried back and forth backstage. "Opening ceremony begins in T-minus five minutes!"
Yamapi was speaking quickly and quietly. "Remember, Australians aren't American, never have been American, and never will be American. India and Indonesia are two different places. No hitting on the delegates no matter how much they're hitting on you. And don't, for god's sake, say anything to the Korean ambassador about his new hairstyle - yes," he said, as Jin opened his mouth, "I know it's really, really awful. You know that, he knows that, no need to say it." Jin rolled his eyes but nodded obediently. "Last but not least - "
"Here's the final draft," Shige interrupted breathlessly, thrusting a sheaf of papers in Jin's hands. "Watch the middle," he said to Jin, and disappeared as quickly as he'd appeared.
"Last but not least," Yamapi continued grimly, plucking the papers from Jin's grasp and fixing Jin with a gimlet eye, "deviate so much as a word from this speech and there will be consequences you could not even dream of."
Jin snatched the speech back and said with obvious irritation, "I can actually read."
Yamapi gave Jin hard look. Jin's eyes were narrowed, and his lips pressed together. Yamapi decided against saying, That's not what I'm worried about and instead held up his hands grudgingly. "I know. Sorry. We're all on edge."
Jin's moods were as changeable as the clouds in the sky. In a second his face was transformed and he was flashing Yamapi a lightning grin. "Come on. If you guys wrote it, it'll go over great." He clapped Yamapi on the shoulder. "You got me elected, after all."
Yamapi's mouth fell open. Before he could gather his wits to answer, Ryo was at his elbow saying, "Time."
"Understood." Yamapi took a deep, calming breath and looked at Jin. Jin looked back at him. "Ready?"
Jin nodded. "Ready to roll."
Yamapi gave Jin a light punch on the shoulder. "Good luck."
Jin winked and turned back to the curtain. With a deep breath, he stepped out on stage and Yamapi could hear a roar of applause.
Yamapi and Ryo joined Shige and Yokoyama where they were clustered at the edge of the curtain as Jin took his place behind the miked podium. He cleared his throat; adjusted the mike; gave the audience a wide trademark Akanishi smile.
"Friends and fellow citizens of the world," Jin began. "As a representative of the sovereign nation of Japan, and on behalf of all nations gathered here today, I'd like to officially open the 2009 Tokyo Summit on Asia-Pacific Relations."
Applause.
*
Ripples lapped at the side of the boat where it rocked gently in the moonlit bay. The motor was silent; at the bow, Moribe and Kuwata, two of the tech assistants, manipulated a pair of paddles with surprising skill.
Jun risked a glance at Aiba. He was intent on the water. Just past his shoulder, a camera was poised to roll.
"There," Aiba said suddenly, pointing. Sure enough, a small fluorescent buoy bobbed a few feet away.
"Standby," Shibata-san's voice whispered. "Three, two, one..."
The cameras rolled. Aiba's voice was hushed. "We're approaching the spot we marked earlier, where we're guessing the zebras will gather. They're very shy, so we have to approach very quietly and hope they don't notice...
The boat silently slid across the surface of the water. Jun found himself holding his breath. Just short of the buoy, one of the production assistants raised a hand, and the boat bobbed the last few inches forward.
Aiba made a gesture of silence.
Very carefully, he leaned over the side. Jun and one of the cameras followed.
There was a gasp in Jun's ear, and a damp hand gripping his.
Just under the water's surface, a swirl of glowing shapes darted back and forth. Jun watched, mesmerized, as the tiny fish wove in and out among each other and the swirl expanded, contracted, spun.
"We did it!" Aiba exclaimed in a whisper. "Look, Jun!"
Jun looked. Aiba's wet hair gleamed in the moonlight. The streak of saltwater across his cheekbone shone. He looked up at Jun and his eyes were round with excitement.
Jun cleared his throat. "Yeah," he whispered. "They're amazing."
*
Jin wasn't the best judge of speechwriting in the world, but everyone had seemed to like Shige's speech plenty. From the moment Jin set foot in the ballroom he barely had a moment free as delegates crowded to shake his hand. Fortunately, there were so many of them he couldn't manage more than a greeting or a word of thanks to each one, and just as fortunately, he had an excellent memory for faces. Charming crowds was what he was good at - when he wanted to be. And given Yamapi and Shige's recent moods, tonight he wanted to be.
There were limits, though, right? Limits to what the human body could take. There was only so much you could smile before your face fell off - Jin was pretty sure he'd read that somewhere. Literally fell off, leaving a gruesome writhing surface of muscles and dangly eye sockets.
Or maybe that had been his secret pre-summit horror movie marathon.
It was definitely time to take a break. At the next lull, he gave the Thai delegate his most charming smile, made an excuse in English that he was fairly sure made sense, and fled in the direction of the private bathroom.
It was much quieter behind the tall columns lining the edge of the ballroom. Quiet enough that - Jin quickly averted his eyes. That had to be another of those things he wasn't supposed to notice. As he pointedly avoided looking in the direction of the entwined tangle of limbs in the corner, a lone figure dressed in a waiter's uniform, half-hidden against one of the columns, caught his eye.
He knew that figure. Just as he opened his mouth to say Kame's name, a voice behind him spoke and Jin's stomach went icy.
"Prime Minister," Ambassador Kim said. "I'd like to congratulate you on your moving speech."
Very slowly, Jin turned. "Thank you," he said. No sign of any of his staff. Shit.
"You must tell me how you managed it," the ambassador said. "I understand reading Japanese is quite difficult and I've heard even the honorable Prime Minister finds it challenging."
This, this was the reason he couldn't stand the ambassador. Jin could always think up the right retort for Yamapi, but never when it actually mattered.
"Tell me," he was saying - help help help, Jin thought furiously - "is it true that you're considering a push to make English the second official language of Japan?"
Jin frowned. It might have come up as a joke - okay, it wouldn't have been a joke if his staff hadn't shouted him down - but he just knew that this was not the place to admit it. Though he still didn't understand why it would be so bad to have two official languages - wasn't English part of the required curriculum? Obviously everyone wanted to be bilingual -
He opened his mouth to answer and a new voice cut in.
"Ambassador Kim," Kame said. "You're interested in bilingual education, too."
The ambassador turned. "I'm sorry?"
"That's very admirable," Kame said earnestly. "Your Japanese is very good."
The ambassador was not exactly known for his keen grasp of language. "Thank you," he said suspiciously.
"Please pardon my interruption. My name is Kamenashi." Kame bowed politely. The ambassador mirrored the gesture. "You know, I understand you're an accomplished musician. I studied music in university, maybe you could tell me more about..." Kame's voice faded as he led Kim away.
As Jin stood gaping after them, Kame looked back.
Go! he mouthed over his shoulder.
With what Jin was sure was the most pathetically grateful expression ever to cross his face, he went.
DECEMBER 14
Koki thrust the ticket printout in Yuichi's face before the door was even half open. "The Joker's taking off," he crowed. "December 21st, baby, I'm outta here!"
Yuichi's mouth fell open. "You aren't serious."
"I am completely serious. Completely fucking serious." Koki punched the air for emphasis. "L.A. won't know what hit it."
"Do you know what hip-hop is like in L.A.? You're going to get yourself killed!"
Koki looked at Yuichi skeptically. "Do you know what hip-hop is like in L.A.?"
"I saw 'Boyz N The Hood,'" Yuichi said defensively. "Shut up!" - as Koki burst into laughter. "I'm serious, you don't have any money, you don't know anyone, all you've got are your 'dope rhyming skillz.'" He actually did those fucking irritating air quotes. Yuichi and his air quotes and his sweater vests wouldn't last an hour in L.A. But the Joker would. The Joker was going to fucking own Los Angeles. Hell yeah.
" - hello? Koki? Did you hear anything I said?"
"I'm broke and single and that's why I should stay in Tokyo, to be broke and single forever with you," Koki said, rolling his eyes. He could recite this speech in his sleep.
Yuichi was grinding his teeth again. "Koki," he said, in a pathetically obvious last-ditch grab at the straws, "you can't speak English!"
"Yes I can," Koki said in English. "Joker's here, y'all, make some noise! Check out my flow, baby, peeeeeace."
"Oh my god," said Yuichi.
"Haters to the left," Koki told him.
DECEMBER 15
The sandy beach was silver in the moonlight. Overhead, a mass of glittering stars stretched in every direction - to Jun's rum-blurred senses, infinite.
In fifteen hours, Jun would be flying back to Tokyo. The A to Z crew would move on to Indonesia the day after that.
A warm length wriggled against Jun's side. "Share?" Aiba's dreamy voice said in Jun's ear.
Jun fumbled for the bottle and dangled it in the air. Aiba, clumsy, grasped at the neck once, twice, and burst into drunken giggles; his fingers, brushing Jun's, were rough. Jun shivered.
Jun lost track of how long they lay still, silent but for the soft roar of the waves.
"Ne, Matsujun," Aiba whispered. His breath tickled Jun's neck. "Why don't you come with us?"
For some reason Jun was having trouble speaking. "I have to go back to Tokyo," he said eventually. "I have a job."
"Is it more fun than working with me?"
Jun rolled over and looked down. Aiba's face was perfectly still; his eyes were wide and serious.
"No," Jun whispered. There was something in his throat. "It's more fun with you."
"Ne, Jun," Aiba said again, softly. "Call me Masaki."
Warm, callused fingers curled around the back of Jun's neck. Aiba's huge eyes shone dark in the moonlight.
Jun leaned down.
Part 2